a tiny ficlet sprouted in my head so I wrote it down and here it is!
1940s Steve and Bucky, looks like our boy’s gonna have to take a sick day but that’s not so bad when you have a smol Steve dishing out TLC.
Steve was making coffee when he heard a soft groan from the bedroom. He had woken up before Bucky, which was unusual, and he was starting to suspect his guy might be coming down sick. He’d been extra tired the night before, not talking much and falling asleep early with a headache, and this morning he’d been snoring a little like he was getting congested.
Steve crossed the tiny kitchen to look in on the shared bedroom, where Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking sleep-rumpled but unrested, and pale with a slight flush suggesting a fever. He rubbed a hand over his face and gave a husky cough. Then his breath caught, his eyebrows turned up, and his eyes glazed over before squeezing shut as he turned to the side and sneezed heavily, “huh, huh—UHSCHiieew!”
He rubbed his nose with a groan and croaked, “mornin.”
“Oh, Buck,” Steve sighed sympathetically. He crossed the room and gently felt Bucky’s neck under his jaw, where his glands were definitely swollen. He ran his hand over his forehead and through his hair, noting the warmth of a slight fever. He tutted. “You’re sick, honey.” Bucky gave a small, hazy smile at the endearment. “This looks like what I had two weeks ago. I was hopin you’d dodged it.”
“Guess not,” Bucky rasped, leaning into Steve’s touch. His expression turned hazy and urgent the next moment, and he leaned away. “Stevie—snff— I’m gonna sneeze—huh—again—” he gasped the last word and snapped his head to the side, “huh—ah—HUH-KSSCHooo!! Uugh.” He sniffed again, and Steve could hear how stuffed and runny his nose was already getting. “Think I’mb gonna, snff, need a handkerchief before too long,” he said, worrying his nose like the tickle was still bothering him.
“I’ll get you a few. And some tea— fine, coffee,” Steve said in response to Bucky’s whimper of protest. “But then tea, and some soup from the deli. You’re taking it easy today.”
“Yes, ndurse,” Bucky grinned, before a shiver and another sneeze came over him. This time he tried to hold it back against his wrist and it came out as a pitiful-sounding, wet “hhh—TDSSCHhh!”
He definitely needed that handkerchief. Steve left to get some, feeling sorry that Bucky was sick with his miserable cold, but still a little happy he had the chance to pay back some of the care Bucky was always giving him.
