Steve had first noticed the petals when they were younger. Maybe fourteen. He didn't mention it to anybody. Saw no reason to at first. They weren't a constant in his ever long list of ailments. He didn't cough up petals all the time. It was just one or two when he was close to Bucky. When he had looked it up it sounded much worse than it was. Hanahaki Disease wasn't common, but people had studied it enough to be able to share their knowledge with the world. He knew his own lungs were wrapped with veins and filled with flowers. Probably made his health problems worse. As they grew older it became harder to hide the petals. Thankfully Bucky never noticed but his mother sure did. The flowers dwindled when Bucky decided at eighteen to join some branch of the military and left. His frequent letters turned sparse and then nonexistent. A few days after the last letter Steve quit spitting up petals. Never saw them again. Never worried about them. Figured the flowers had left on their own accord. Probably died along with his hopes...
It took a few years for Steve to see Bucky again.
He hadn't moved away like all his other friends. He had stayed while his mother was in declining health and then stayed in their small house after she passed. He didn't want to leave since it held the only thing that still mattered to him. He had started some freelancing for advertisements and what not and also worked at the cafe near his house.
He had been wearing a pair of khakis and a dark blue sweater since it was a cold October day when he saw Bucky again.
"Good morning, what can I get you?" He asked in his customer service voice.
The man studied the hand written menu before looking Steve up and down. "You know, I always hated it when you wore khakis."
Steve's heart felt like it was being squeezed and the air was knocked from his lungs as he stared at the man in front of him. "Hey, Buck." He said hoarsely.
"Hey, Steve. Ma told me you've been working here since your mom passed. Sorry to hear about that by the way."
"Yeah, well it was five years ago. She's next to dad. I worked here before she passed though. Since you left. Actually." Steve was trying his hardest to ignore the feeling of his lungs being filled once again with botany that didn't belong there.
He didn't love Bucky anymore. He couldn't. He had left him for almost ten years and stopped writing him after only a few months. There was no way.
"I just wanted to see if you wanted have dinner sometime so I can tell you about my time. My therapist told me to tell my friends and family and you're my only friend..."
Steve covered his mouth as he coughed. Goddamn it. This couldn't be happening. He excused himself to the small sink nearby to wash his hands, throwing the blood spattered yellow petals in the trash along with his paper towel. "Sure. It's been a long time since anybody talked to me. Nat texts occasionally and Clint calls at random hours. It'd be nice to have a real conversation for once." He said with a fake smile.
Bucky smiled uneasily before grabbing a napkin and a pen to write his number down. "I have my own place so I can make you dinner like I used to, yeah? Just let me know when you'd like to meet."
"Of course." Steve folded the napkin and slipped it into his pocket.
"It'll be nice to catch up." The smile this time is genuine and kind.
It broke Steve's heart.
"I'll you see then."
"Bye, Steve."
He watched as Bucky walked out and covered his mouth again as he coughed. The little old lady that had been sitting at a nearby table brought up her empty mug and smiled sadly at Steve.
"You poor boy. You should see someone about that cough." Her words were full of sympathy and she lingered by the counter before leaving.
Steve washed her mug as he washed his hands again. He couldn't believe this was happening. It had been so long. He hadn't even thought about the flowers the whole time Bucky was gone.
He decided to close the cafe early and headed straight home. He tried to keep ahold of every petal he coughed and spit up along the way. His mother had collected them at first and brought them with to every hospital visit. He entered his house with tears in his eyes, blaming it on the wind. He ran up the stairs and used the edge of the wall to swing himself into his mom's room. He grabbed the jar off her dresser and added the petals to it. The original ones were all dried up and turning brown. He stared at the brown and yellow before closing the jar and putting it back down.
"Today was good, mom." He said as he sat on her bed. "Well until the end of it. Bucky came back. Stopped and said hi. I know you hate swearing but the fucking flowers came back. Sunflowers of all things. Just a kick to the goddamn teeth." He didn't even notice the tears streaming down his cheeks as he talked. "He asked me to have dinner with him so he could talk about what happened I guess. I don't know if I'm going to do it. I don't-" He was going to finish with 'want to' but that was a lie. "I just want to live a normal life again."
He noticed the tears then when he started sobbing. He curled up on his mom's bed and gripped her quilt as he cried. He thought he was done with the pain and the blood and the petals. He didn't want this. He didn't want this! Not again...
When he quit crying he stared at the jar. He knew that the flowers could be removed. There was always a risk of never loving again but he was fine with that. He was fine with his life being alone within this house. He rubbed his eyes and got up from the bed.
"Love you, mom." He said softly before walking out, closing the door behind him.
He made himself something light to eat. He was never hungry after sobbing but he hadn't ate much today and he didn't now if the shaking was low blood sugar or the aftershocks of his episode. He pulled the napkin from his pocket and stared at the number. He left the napkin on the counter and went to his bedroom after doing his dishes. He tried to keep in the coughs, hating himself even more when he couldn't and he was forced to clean up the petals.
"Your hair is the same yellow as the sunflowers!" Bucky had told him when he was fifteen as his younger sister Becca made him a flower crown of the flower.
He learned later while looking into it that you couldn't have actual sunflowers in your lungs. The flower was far too large. What he had within his lungs was Heliopsis helianthoides, or false sunflowers. They looked similar to the looming flower, but were much smaller.
He still hated sunflowers even if that wasn't what was actually within his lungs. Avoided them at all costs. He refused to work with a client if they demanded sunflowers and wouldn't compromise. He shorted himself money sometimes because of it, but he refused to look at the wretched flowers. He didn't like working with any type of botany, but he wouldn't do anything that involved sunflowers.
He felt tears stinging his eyes again and he blinked them away as he climbed into bed. He was an adult now. He had more important things to think about besides some school crush he had years ago. He kept his eyes closed even when he coughed. He'd clean up in the morning. He didn't want to move until he was forced to wake up.
He didn't know what time it was when he woke up. His alarm wasn't the reason he was awake, the strong feeling of needing to vomit was. He stumbled his way to the bathroom and gripped the edge of the toilet as he watched the bowl fill with yellow petals and blood. He wanted to scream but he was so tired. He didn't want to go through this again. He decided to take a shower and get ready for his day since he was already forced to be awake. He'd just have time to make more decorative pastries. He decided on khakis again and put on a large, maroon sweater before slipping on his coat and leaving his house to head to the bakery. It was still dark out. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten ready this early.
The people that eventually entered the cafe didn't notice how tired Steve looked and nobody seemed to mind when he'd excuse himself to the bathroom more than necessary. They all commented on what was in the display cases though. He had never made macarons but he had had some time today and tried some basic ones. His other desserts were just more intricate than usual since he liked to have pretty things in the display. He told them all he had just made them the night before instead of just a few hours ago. They were all impressed and he watched a lot of people take pictures before eating their treats.
When it was about ten to close Bucky entered again. Steve held in a cough as he watched him look over the display.
"This is pretty." He said, pointing to the cupcake he had decorated to look like a sunflower.
He had made a couple dozen of them and they were all gone but one. Fucking sunflowers were destroying his life. False or not. Other people might as well enjoy them while they killed him.
"Thanks. I decided to try some new stuff." Steve covered his mouth with his sweater as he coughed, hating the feeling of wet petals against his chest and stomach.
"I'd like it please, and a black coffee to go."
Steve nodded as he got the cupcake and put it in a little carrier before getting the coffee.
"What do I owe?"
"It's fine. It was the last cupcake and the coffee gets thrown out in like five minutes."
Bucky frowned at that and instead shoved some money into the tip jar. "Thanks, Steve. Don't forget the offer of dinner still stands," he said as he left with a wave.
Steve waved back a little before he stared to cough again. He gripped the edge of the counter as he doubled over and watched partly formed flowers fall to the floor.
Now he'd need to mop.
He closed down the cafe and mopped up his mess. He could handle the petals, he couldn't handle the blood. He had forgotten how uncomfortable the whole thing was. He shook the petals out of his sweater and into the garbage before he left.
When he got home he finally texted Bucky that he was done tomorrow at five. He left his phone in his room before going to lay on his mom's bed. That was his ritual. Wake up, go to work, come home, work on anything he needed to, lay on his mom's bed, and then he'd either eat something and then go to bed or just go to bed depending on his exhaustion levels. He had nothing he needed to work on though so he just stared at the rose wallpaper and tried not to cough up anything on her quilt. He had no more tears left after yesterday so he just sat in the silence.
"I don't know why these things happen to me, mom. Why am I the only one who gets these stupid diseases nobody hears about? It took going to a children's specialty hospital just to learn about this bullshit disease. I hate it. I just want it to be over. Maybe if I'm an ass to Bucky it'll just go away. How could I still possibly love him after all the shit he put me through? I hadn't even thought about him since you got sick. How can there still be feelings?"
The empty room didn't answer him. It never did. His mom was gone. His dad was gone. It was just him. And he couldn't answer his own question. Today was a day he went straight to bed and slept without eating. He knew he'd hate himself in the morning for it, but he already hated himself. The fact that flowers were forming after only a day meant he was even more stupid than he had originally thought. He glanced at his phone and saw Bucky had sent him an address.
Steve wore jeans the next day. And a hoodie that used to be his mom's. Nothing eventful happened at the cafe. Nothing usually did anyways. His treats were not as interesting as they were yesterday but he did start another batch of macarons since those sold so fast. They were just time consuming but he had time. It made him late to Bucky's but he didn't care. He puked up flowers in the dying garden in front of the apartment building. He wiped his mouth with the tissue he had in his pocket before heading inside and to the door Bucky said was his. He knocked and waited a moment. Bucky answered looking disheveled but smiled anyways.
"Hey. I was worried you weren't coming."
"Had to finish at the cafe."
"Right. Yeah. It's fine. Come in."
Bucky moved out of the doorway and Steve walked in. The apartment was small and absolutely spotless. He smelled tomato once he entered and upon entering the kitchen he saw two plates prepared with spaghetti which had been Steve's favorite meal as a kid. He covered his mouth with a tissue as he coughed and discreetly set it into the nearby trash can.
"Are you getting pneumonia? You usually got it so much later though."
"It's nothing. Just a cough."
They sat down at the small table and ate in silence. Steve didn't know what to talk about and Bucky seemed to be working his way up to talk. He tried to keep his coughs in by eating or taking sips of water. Bucky was as good a cook as ever and even made something as easy as spaghetti taste gourmet.
"Ten years is a long tour." Steve said softly. "I always asked your ma about how you were doing, figured you kept writing her at least. After a while she wouldn't answer the question and started avoiding me."
"Yeah. No. Tour wasn't ten years." Bucky mumbled. "I was uh- I was captured. For I don't know. A while. Time felt weird during that time. Didn't feel completely real. Honestly if not for what they did I'd say it felt like I was dreaming. It was more of a nightmare though."
"Oh." Steve whispered, keeping his eyes locked on his plate.
"I'm sorry I stopped writing you. I shouldn't have stopped. I can't even tell you why I did. I think I forgot one day and then it all started going to shit and I just never got back to you."
"Got back to your mom." Steve pointed out and swirled his fork in the noodles.
"That's different, Steve. She worried about me-"
"And I didn't?" He hadn't meant to get angry about that. Really had no reason to be this upset. But he had started and now he couldn't stop. "You were one of my few friends, James. The only one who actually talked to me. Do you know how fucking upset I was when I kept sending letters and never got one back? Took me a while to decide to stop. Only did because my mom was fucking dying, which you would've known if you read my letters. Did you even read the last few, James?"
"No." Bucky answered softly before looking up at Steve with furrowed brows. "I didn't get them because I was captured! If you quit thinking about yourself for once and listened to me you would've heard me say that!"
"So now I'm the one being selfish?"
"You're always being selfish! I'm trying to tell you about the fucking years I lost being a POW and all you want to talk about is how I didn't write you! You sound like a love sick little bitch!"
Steve slammed his hands against the table as he stood up. "Fuck you James Barnes! I only agreed to come here because I thought it would help and I think it really did!"
"What would it help?" All the anger in his voice was gone and now it was drowning in concern.
"None of your goddamn business you prick!"
Steve tried to storm out but Bucky wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted him off his feet. Steve of course began to start swinging his arms and legs.
"Put me down!"
"What would it help, Steve?"
"My fucking Hanahaki!"
He quit struggling in his arms and Bucky set him back down on his feet gently.
"Your... Hanahaki?"
"Yeah. I fucking cough up flowers whenever I see your stupid face. Started when I was fourteen. I thought it was gone when you quit writing and then you had to come back. Stupid jackass." He mumbled.
"That's why you've been coughing..."
"Obviously. I just said that. Sorry about the outburst. You can keep talking about your shit now. I'm always like this. No wonder you're my only friend."
Bucky smiled nervously. "We're a little codependent, huh?"
"Nope." Steve said as he headed back to the table and continued to eat like nothing had happened.
Bucky sat back down after a moment and told Steve about his capture. They had tried to turn him into a killing machine but he was as stubborn as he was pretty. Which was very. It was almost successful but the base had been infiltrated before it was completely set. Bucky was brought to some other base in Wakanda and taken care of for a while. They told him he had been stuck in the other base for almost six years and were shocked he was still mostly himself since the others that had been captured with him had been controlled for some years. It took him a while to finally piece himself back completely, but even then he was still missing parts. They had tried to wipe his memory and it worked but only a little. He had forgotten weird things like his sister's name but he remembered Steve's favorite flowers were sunflowers, the color of his hair in the Sun. He had been back for a few months but had finally worked up the courage to see him only a few days ago.
Steve tried to hide his coughing again by drinking some water and instead choked on it. Bucky looked at him with worry as his coughs turned violent. Fear swelled in his heart as he watched Steve run from the table. He was worried the story had caused him to be ill even though he left out all the worst things. He followed behind him once the sound of puking stopped. He froze in the doorway when he saw all the small yellow flowers on the floor and int the toilet. He didn't know what scared him most, the fact that all the flowers were covered in blood, or that it was obviously Steve's blood. He walked around them carefully and sat on the edge of the tub. They had done that a lot as kids. Steve would be sick over the toilet and Bucky would sit nearby to rub his back. He didn't know how he felt about touching right now though so he just sat close.
"I hate you so much." Steve said shakily around tears. "Knowing why you quit answering breaks my goddamn heart. I didn't think it would get any worse and here we are."
"What does it mean?" Bucky asked softly.
"Petals are fine. Just the first sign or whatever. The longer it goes on the more developed the flowers get. Full flowers mean that I'll probably die in a few months or so. It's just a fucking waste of time. Absolute bullshit."
"Why do you have them? I don't know what Hanahaki is, Steve."
The blond was quiet then. It felt weird since he was always so loud even when he was silent. Always needed to make sure his presence was known so people would look at him. Now it looked like he was trying to dissolve through the floor.
"I've loved you since I was fourteen. I never told you because we were just little. You don't really know what love is besides from your family. It started small. Only a petal or two when we'd hang out. And then it got a little worse as we grew up. Watching you run around with others. Doing your own thing without me. It wasn't just a few petals then. It looked like a horrible romance movie scene with the rose petals all the way from the door to the bed. There was so much. So much. It already hurt so damn bad to breathe and then you made it worse. Why did you have to become my friend? Why did you have to save me from that stupid bully when I was eight? Why did you have to pick that day in particular to finally do something? Why couldn't you just leave me like everyone else does?"
Bucky frowned and moved to sit on the floor next to Steve. "I saved you that day because I actually saw it. Usually when I'd see you you were already banged up from starting a fight. I have a sister you know. Don't like seeing people pick on others who can't protect themselves. Not that Becca couldn't protect herself but I'm the older one so it's my job to protect her. I just happened to see it that day. I can't leave you because... I think I love you too, Steve."
Steve laughed bitterly. "You think. Great. I feel so much better. Anyway, sorry for the mess. I'll clean it up and then I'll be on my way."
"Knock it off, Steve! You can't keep acting like it's you against the whole fucking world! I just told you they got rid of some memories but they've been- They've been coming back. I remember all our sleepovers. All the times we'd sneak out to just watch the stars. I never told you how I felt because I thought the same thing. We were just kids, we didn't know what love was. I ran around because I didn't think you felt the same. I didn't want to force my feelings on you."
They sat in silence as Steve began to slowly pick up the flowers he could reach. He had made a complete mess of this bathroom and was beginning to feel guilty. He tried to tear apart each word Bucky said to see if there was a lie somewhere. There had to be a lie. Nobody loved him. Except...
He felt a laugh bubble up past his lips. A real laugh unlike all the other ones he'd been forcing for years. He tossed a sunflower into the toilet before covering his face with his hands. Bucky laughed a little too just because Steve's laugh was contagious.
"We're so fucking stupid. Who let us become adults without supervision?" Steve asked as he kept picking up after himself. "We can't even tell each other how we feel without there being a fight or something dramatic happen."
"We've always been like this I suppose. Ma always told us about how we'd fight and say we weren't friends and then hang out the next day. Doesn't help that you think fighting will solve all your problems. Push it away before you have to really deal with it."
"Mom always told me it'd get me in trouble." Steve said softly as he twirled one of the mini sunflowers between his fingers.
"Steve. That's gross. Let's clean up and then talk like adults instead of childrem."
"Yeah. Okay."
They got to their feet and Steve picked up all the flowers while Bucky went to get the mop. His lungs felt completely clear for the first time since he was little. He took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. He looked at Bucky with a small smile when he came back in.
"I forgive you for ignoring me for years."
Bucky smiled back. "I forgive you for being a complete dumbass and not telling me when we were younger."
They finished cleaning and then cuddled on Bucky's couch while they watched a movie. Steve finally noticed all the small decorations he had around the apartment. There was so much yellow and even more sunflowers. He placed a quick kiss on Bucky's cheek before cuddling closer to him. They had a long ways to go to establish a real relationship since they both had their own problems to handle first, but as long as Steve stopped puking up botany, he was okay with that. He decided he'd also start agreeing to work with sunflowers since they weren't choking him anymore.