Proper story’s supposed to start at the beginning. Ain’t so simple with this one.
There was no real beginning to all of this. No second it all started going downhill. No turning point. No hidden explanation. Truth to be told, there was nothing. Well, and then suddenly there was something. Did that make sense? Actually nothing really did. Certainly not this.
Something woke him up. That lean frame on the bed with fairly tan skin, wearing nothing but boxers. Trying to come to senses, Bucky peeled his eyes open, feeling his lack of sleep trying to work against his actions. He was tired. Exhausted from weird, vivid dreams and basically just sleeping like crap. After a while, Bucky’s arms moved first, then his legs which tried to get the blanket to cover his feet, too. Whatever it was, that little wake up call sure wasn’t pleasant. But it didn’t take long until he realized they were already on their way down and there was no ending in sight.
Right, he wasn’t alone. Sometimes he needed a second to remember that Steve never left his side after all that happened to them. Quite unbelievable, honestly. According to his own mind, Bucky wasn’t exactly the easiest person to be around but then again, nothing compared to-
Wait.
“Steve?”
And that was where their story began. Somewhere in the middle of a complete disaster.
The sound of wet coughing echoed through their mostly empty bedroom, grabbed Bucky by his imaginary collar and harshly pulled him out of his unpeaceful yet somehow restful slumber. And God, how much he hated that sound in particular. It didn’t stop either. The closer he inched toward the source of it, the more frequent it got up until the point of Steve having to gasp for air, for anything at all entering his lungs in between the coughs. Finally somewhat awake, Bucky switched on the dusty old lamp on his nightstand, sat up and instantly regretted turning it on. Steve looked miserable. His beautiful blonde hair was all over the place, face squished into his pillow, skin pale and sweaty, cheeks stained with red spots all over just like his neck, body shaking like crazy, mouth constantly wide open in an effort to just breathe. Even if it wasn’t much, all of the light let Bucky see almost all of the little pearls of sweat running down Steve’s forehead and the way his eyes were glistening with unshed tears.
“Stevie, hey, hey, hey…Shhh darlin’…” Steve immediately reacted to the body and voice coming closer and tried to close the last little gap between them, his chest and throat burning with pain while Bucky wrapped his arms around him protectively, carefully pulling his body up into a sitting position next to him. Only a second later his warm hands found their way to Steve’s small, heaving chest, placing them underneath the white shirt he wore while sleeping, trying to keep him steady and mentally grounded just a bit. “Need your inhaler?” The question was declined immediately by Steve who almost thought he’d die any second now. Bucky for his part knew that a coughing fit always made the younger one freak out with fear of getting sick, always made him have a mini panic attack and always made him long for physical affection. Bucky kissed his hair softly, then began caressing the chest of the man who was no longer coughing but just whimpering and gasping softly now, the distant rattling sound in the back of his throat making Bucky worry.
“Shh…Easy now. I’m here, Steve. You ain’t gotta be scared, hm? No needa be scared when I’m here.”
What was he dealing with though? An asthma attack? A panic attack? The aftermath of a nightmare? A cold?
Steve whined softly in response, nudging his head into Bucky’s shoulder. “Just breathe slowly. That’s all you gotta do. I’ve got you.”
“Nghh…”
“I’ve got you, darlin’ “, Bucky repeated softly at the distressed noise, trying to calm his own mind, too while running a hand across his sweaty forehead. “Just breathe for me.” The smaller one nodded softly, trying to anchor his mind in what he was supposed to do, trying to get his burning chest to move the way he wanted it to. But even as he somewhat copied the rhythm, the pain just didn’t wanna stop, actually making him consider the possibility of a heart attack as he pressed his body closer to the man holding him tight, trying to feel more of its warmth. The digital numbers on their alarm clock read 4:30 am and both were more than just exhausted in their own ways,one fighting to stay awake while the other didn’t exactly have much of a choice and rather wanted to be asleep than coughing mucus up right now. God, the last time that happened he-...Tears worked their way into Steve’s eyes. No, it couldn’t be like last time, right? Last time it all started with throat pain and not with whatever this was. Last time was hell. The pneumonia had gotten the best of him and made him sleep almost all day, made him lose way too much weight, made him cry whenever he had to get up for the bathroom and it made him lose his voice.
Bucky looked around in distress, trying to make Steve lean against the headboard on his own. “Let me get ya a towel, I’ll be right back.” Noticing that he was moving and about to leave, Steve whined hoarsely, grabbing his wrist, trying to keep him here because if there was anything he didn’t want right now it was being alone. Bucky kissed his forehead, then met his sleepy and terrified gaze. “It won’t take more than a minute, promise. C’mon, you’re so strong, you can wait here for me, yeah? Just to the bathroom and back.” As soon as he sat alone on the bed though, his breathing became more frantic and some of the coughing returned, as if his body was allergic to being left alone or something. All Steve could focus on was the way his throat ached with every weak cough and the way his chest felt all tingly and constricted for no reason. He just wanted the person that entered the room with a few towels to cuddle him again, although he cringed at the sight of the fabrics. All the bad memories seemed to flood back into his head as one of them was spread over his thighs and Bucky took a seat right next to him again, immediately hugging his body close and softly wiping some more of the sweat away from Steve’s forehead with one of the towels he brought. The shaking man grabbed Bucky’s hands hard.
“W-What i-if…if it's like la-ast time?”, he whined in distress, some more salty and hot tears running across his red-spotted cheeks, praying to God that it wouldn’t be like that. He couldn’t handle that. “It ain’t gonna be like that, sweetheart. You’re not sick, maybe the warm air just upset your lungs again.” Bucky for his part didn’t know if he should try to comfort Steve or tell him the truth. Well, at least what he thought might be true. And that if he was right, he Bucky would stay awake tonight, trying to plan the day ahead and how not to have a breakdown again. Last time Steve caught pneumonia, the older one found himself locked up in the bathroom, crying and pulling his own hair while his boyfriend seemed to be coughing his lungs out in the bedroom. It wouldn’t be like that again. He had to pull himself together. He was supposed to be the strong one now. The person who began rubbing Steve’s stomach softly in an attempt to calm him down while watching all the red spots on his face disappear ever so slowly and fade into his pale skin tone. Eventually, his tears became rare, just like the occasional coughs.
Maybe Bucky had been wrong about him falling sick?
“Startin’ to get a lil’ sleepy?”
The younger one gave a simple nod, then scooted up closer to let his head rest against Bucky’s chest that offered warmth and comfort. Both knew it was probably best if he slept sitting tonight but they were scared of what the morning might bring and as soon as Steve was asleep for about an hour, Bucky decided to get up and clean their place a little, just in case things went downhill from now on.
And boy was he right.
He just finished cleaning up the kitchen and was given a sight he couldn’t forget easily. Steve wanted to make his way into the bathroom when Bucky noticed his pale face was partly covered in red spots again, just like his chest and he practically jumped from the chair he was resting on to stop him, hands on his small hips, concerned eyes all over his body. Carefully, he ran a thumb across a red, bumpy spot on his cheek, finally making Steve realize something wasn’t right. On top of that, his body appeared weak and just…kind of sluggish. “Where’s that rash coming from all of a sudden?” Their eyes met for a second. “Does it hurt?” The younger one shook his head softly, as if unsure of what to say. “Don’t bullshit me, Steve. Please.”
“Just a little tender…”, he started, then added a little “And itchy…” as he noticed that his boyfriend was still waiting for further information. He’d never be able to hide anything from Bucky. But truth to be told, apart from the rash and a little inertness he didn’t feel any different.
Bucky nodded and gestured toward the kitchen. “You sit down, I’ll get the lotion.”
Steve didn’t even try to fight him. He just wondered why their kitchen seemed all tidied up, then felt a sudden wave of guilt rush through his body at the thought of last night and how he had kept Bucky awake for what felt like an eternity just because of some stupid cough. Even as Bucky was softly massaging the lotion into his cheeks, he couldn’t shake the thought of being sick. Why else would his body feel so heavy and as if it took double times the effort than usual to walk around? Like he had to drag his body around instead of simply walking? “You okay, Stevie?” “Y-Yeah, I’m good.” God, why did his voice sound so scratchy? Steve cleared his throat, trying not to focus on the sudden dull pain spreading in it now. Both just sat in silence until the work was done and a pleasant, cooling sensation spread all over his face and chest. “Try not to touch the spots too much, yeah?”
With that being said they were about done for now. Well, if it wasn’t for Steve to start clearing his throat more often and coughing as the morning went by, trying to pull himself together not to freak Bucky out but failing. It was a particularly hard cough that had him bending over in the living room, fist patting his own chest and throat burning as Bucky came up from behind and started rubbing his back, his other hand supporting Steve’s body so he didn’t fall over. “Not feelin’ too hot?” Steve wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, suddenly feeling a little dizzy and out of it. “Mh-mh.”, he agreed, leaning back to let the taller one support his body weight, cringing at the faint taste of mucus in the back of his throat. It couldn’t be like last time, God, please don’t let it be like that. At this point he'd rather die than having to live through that hell again. Steve hated getting sick but he hated doctors and hospitals even more than that so the smaller one had protested as hard as he possibly could so he could sleep it off in the comfort of their own four walls and not some foreign place with children screaming and machines beeping at three in the morning.
“You’re startin’ to panic again, Steve. Everything’s alright, calm down.”
Taking deep, long breaths the dizziness faded away but his body felt extremely heavy and as if he could fall asleep the second his head hit a pillow. Steve didn’t want to sleep, though. He didn’t want to wake up in the morning and be all weary and sick and achy. He didn’t want to suddenly be overwhelmed by all the symptoms. If he thought about it that way, sleeping was the worst part of being sick for him.
“There you go, just lie down.” Wait what? When did that happen? Why was he suddenly on their couch? Why was Bucky laying him down and draping a soft blanket over his body? Did he fall asleep or pass out just now?
His head shot up, eyes lit with fear as his hands reached out to grab Bucky’s flannel, trying to pull him closer or make him lie down next to him. Steve whined in distress as his hands were kissed gently. “Hey, hey…Relax…Just relax, Steve, I’m here. Ain’t gonna leave ya.”
“Don-wan-...get sick…”, Steve pleaded with all of his strength as if his boyfriend had the power and tools to make the last few hours just unhappen. “I know, sweetheart. Just rest now, you’ll feel better if you do.” Still whimpering hoarsely, Steve unwillingly let go of Bucky’s clothes and fisted the blanket instead, his eyes fluttering shut every now and then, although the older one noticed that his boyfriend was fighting against falling asleep as hard as he could and with all of the strength his body had left to use. “Shhh…C’mon, darlin’ just relax now. Close your eyes, it’s okay.” Bucky was kneeling on the floor next to him at this point, attempting to ease him into sleeping a little now which had always been a challenge when Steve got sick and anxious. As soon as a warm, careful hand came up to caress Steve’s head, he had already fallen into a light sleep, finally resting from whatever it was that his body was fighting against right now.
He stayed on the floor for a while, already mentally preparing himself for Steve to wake up and feel much worse because one: this was definitely pneumonia and two: he knew exactly that Steve’s immune system wasn’t the strongest. Oh, and three: Bucky always liked to imagine the worst so he couldn’t really get surprised anymore.
After a while he had already cooked some chicken noodle soup and collected some more blankets and pillows for the couch (because if there was one thing he wouldn’t ever get Steve to do it was sleeping and resting in their bed while he was sick if that meant being further away from the older one and feeling lazy, so he always made him sleep on the couch) but cursed only a second after he had placed the supplies down in the living room. Today was Friday. They usually went grocery shopping on Fridays but there was no way in hell Steve would let him leave the house now. Fuck. What should he do now? Maybe he’d just-...
Body covered in a giant, dark, fuzzy coat and a gray scarf, Bucky stood outside of their neighbor's house for about a few seconds now, knocked and waited. Old Mrs. Johnson had always cooked meals for them and asked for their wellbeing so maybe there was a chance she’d help. Bucky smiled gently as the door opened and saw her face. “Oh my, hello there James, how are you, sweetheart?” He laughed sweetly at her words. “I’m good, Mrs. Johnson, thank you.”, Bucky tried to smile but was offered a doubting gaze immediately. Why did he even think that’d work? As for a 60-year old, she was still extremely observant and active. “You seem troubled, dear.” “It’s about Steve, actually. He just fell sick with pneumonia again and I’m afraid he won’t let me leave him alone to go grocery shopping. We could use some more soup and meds, though.” Lowering his head in embarrassment, Bucky buried his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat, then shyly met her gaze again. “You’re doing an amazing job taking care of him. I’ll do what I can, okay? Let the old lady find her purse then I will go to the store for you, hm? And tell Steve I wish him well.” After Bucky thanking her for what seemed like half an eternity, both said goodbye and he made his way back to Steve as fast as he could to find him somewhere between asleep and awake, coughing weakly.
Without wasting a second thought, he put down a pillow on the floor next to their couch, then let his knees rest on it so they didn’t hurt and turned all red later. Slowly, Bucky brought a hand up and underneath the warm blanket to softly rub Steve’s stomach, watching his face twitch, as if he was aware of his surroundings and not all too far away from reality. His hand moved in big circles. “You know who I just talked to, Steve?”, he prompted, not too sure if Steve could actually understand him but a little distraction for sick people was never inappropriate, right? “I talked to old Mrs. Johnson. She wishes you well.”
The man on the bed grunted a little in response, as if trying to tell Bucky, he was there and listening to what he said. “Yeah,I know, she’s very sweet.”, Bucky agreed, smiling sadly and examining his pale skin. “She’s gonna go to the store for us, bring you some more soup and meds. Sounds good? You wanna take some meds to get better soon?” Another tiny noise of approval left his lips but eventually, it didn’t take long for Steve to start snoring slightly, though and fall back asleep while he received some belly rubs. Bucky for his part was so lost in thought and busy imagining all worst-case scenarios he could possibly think of that the short ring of the doorbell made him shriek up and notice that he had wasted the last hour following his stupid train of thought and chasing it to death. It didn’t work, by the way. Not even after he brought the grocery bag inside and started unpacking it on the kitchen counter. Turns out she bought a lot more than promised and Bucky couldn’t be more thankful. The last item in the bag was a cute little box filled with chocolate and a sticky note on it that read “Never lose your smile” Shaking his head and laughing with joy, Bucky placed it down for now, then was interrupted by a loud whine that had him running back to Steve in the matter of a few seconds.
"Steve? Hey, what’s wrong, hm?”
The younger one was a lot more awake now, eyes open and hands reaching out for Bucky until they met another pair of hands. There seemed to be even less color on his face now which made the rash appear worse. “N-Need th’bathr’m.”, he stuttered, having Bucky nod and try to collect his thoughts. “Alright, sweetheart. C’mon, I’ll help you.” Just as his body was in a sitting position a wet cough interrupted both of their actions and made Steve curl in on himself, just wanting to fall unconscious again until this whole thing was over and his immune system was done fighting off the infection. Why did he never get what he wanted? But this was exactly why Steve hated sleeping while he was sick. He fell asleep feeling somewhat fine and woke up feeling as if something weighed him down, his chest was constricted and his lungs were on fire. “Easy…Let it out, Steve.”, he instructed, then helped him to get up on shaky legs, supporting his weight on the way to the bathroom only to come to halt in front of it and find that Steve didn’t exactly intend to let go of him. Bucky tried to meet his gaze in confusion as he opened the door. “There. You can go inside, Steve. Want me to wait here?” The younger one shook his head but didn’t loosen his grip either, his knees buckling. “Then what’s the matter, darlin’? You gotta let go of me, hm?” His fingers immediately gripped Bucky tighter, shaking his head again, staring into the bathroom, his breath coming short and fast. But if he didn’t want to let Bucky go and didn’t want him to wait outside either then…
Wait
Bucky’s expression softened as the rattling sound in the back of Steve’s throat increased. “Do you want me to come with you? Is that it?” A tiny nod confirmed his thoughts and they made their way inside slowly, getting Bucky to think about how miserable and vulnerable Steve must have felt in order to be so scared of being alone. Should he help Steve undress? Turn around? Should he calm him down? “Steve? Hey, what do you need me to do? Hm?” Said person looked up at him shyly, visibly thinking of what to say now, still holding Bucky’s hands as tight as ever before, searching for the confidence to speak up. He didn’t quite find it. So Bucky guided Steve’s hands up to his shoulders, then kneeled down in front of him to undo his pants only to receive even more stressed out breaths. The last thing he wanted was to make Steve uncomfortable in any way but God, was it hard to communicate and make Steve feel safe right now. Careful fingers undid his belt, then pulled the zipper of his soft pants down. “Calm down, Stevie, it’s all good. You can relax, okay? I ain’t gonna judge ya, you know that. I understand that you wanna feel safe right now. I’d feel the same.” Some weak, wet coughs interrupted Bucky for a few seconds who then guided his boyfriend to sit down on the toilet, still holding his hands tight, looking up to his face only to find that Steve was close to tears, the rash and his unnaturally pale skin didn’t exactly calm Bucky down either.
“Do you want me to turn around? Anything that’d make you more comfortable?” Steve shook his head and so they were on their way to the living room again after a few minutes.
With Steve back on the couch, the older one had enough time to read through all the package inserts of the drugs he was way too familiar with, then drop two of the large tablets right into the center of his palm and fill a glass of water before he made his way back. Once again, he found his boyfriend cuddled up underneath the blanket and offered the bowl of soup he had cooked earlier to him. “Just a few spoons for me?”, Bucky asked sweetly and received a weak nod, then watched as Steve tried to bring the spoon up to his dry lips with a hand shaking as hard as a leaf. And Steve seemed to hate himself for having to stop mid-way to gather his strength, then try again. “Let me help you, Steve.” He didn’t decline but instead let the older one help guide the spoon to his mouth every now and then until the bowl was a little emptier.
The tablets definitely scared Steve at first sight, so he only looked at his boyfriend, hoping he could switch them up or give him different ones instead. As soon as that didn’t happen, he internally refused to take them until Bucky gave his forehead a sweet little kiss. “Hey. I know those look intimidating. But the trick is not to think, okay? If you start thinkin’ then you’ll never get 'em down.” That did make sense. Kind of. After all, the first tablet and some water found their way into Steve’s mouth who started to panic again, reaching out for one of his boyfriend’s hands to hold him or make it better again. Their eyes met. “I’ll count, okay? One, two, three…and down, c’mon, pal.”, he encouraged. “Don’t think, just one, two and do it. C’mon, one, two, don’t think…There you go, well done.” Bucky smiled gently, bringing his thumbs up to softly massage Steve’s throat and ease the last gulps of water down. “That’s it…Just breathe for a second, then you’ll take the last one.”
That little game repeated itself until Bucky massaged his throat once again, wandering up to his jaw as Steve let his eyes close in exhaustion. Just this picture for itself seemed to immediately burn itself into Bucky’s brain, his boyfriend all pale, red spots on his face and neck, body shaking and lacking energy, appearing lifeless. And no matter what he did it didn’t ever feel like enough.
The next heavy cough finally let some of the tears in Steve’s eyes spill over and roll down his cheeks as Bucky kept squeezing his hands, reminding him of his presence which seemed to make a lot of things a little easier. “Do you wanna cuddle?” Crying and sobbing, the smaller one nodded desperately, looking forward to just being held because if there was one thing that made him feel safe it was body contact. Only a few seconds later Bucky sat down on the couch, legs stretched out in front of him and spread wide for Steve to lie down between them, head resting on his chest so his upper body was lifted upward - a way too comfortable position that immediately made Steve close his eyes. “I’ve got you, Steve.” With that little whisper Bucky began massaging his chest and occasionally let his thumbs travel up to his throat again, making him sigh. “Try and catch some more sleep, yeah? Just close your eyes.” He didn’t even have to say twice before Bucky was left alone with all of his thoughts again, mindlessly moving from the chest massage to a belly rub and back, just letting his hands do their work, grabbing the little package if breathe easy - balm he had left on the table earlier and started spreading it across Steve’s small chest.
“Shhh…it’s okay, Steve. Just relax.”, Bucky whispered at the small whimper that left his lips but was satisfied as he seemed to take some deeper breaths again. Even Bucky himself had to admit that the smell of that thing wasn’t even bad.
With Steve back asleep he just gave it a sigh. What else was there to do but to wait for the medicine to kick in now? And while he was at it, why not make his boyfriend feel loved? Why not help him in the bathroom again or help him eat again? They’d make it through this one, too, just like they always have. He just knew it. And when they have, he’d give Steve a kiss and tell him how much -
“- I love you, hm? ‘Cause I do. A lot.”, Bucky whispered and gave Steve a big squeeze about two weeks later. He just knew it. He always did.