Chapter 11
Waking up the next morning was hellish. His fever decided to get worse just when Steve thought it was getting better and his voice was hoarse and scratchy.
He was tired, eyes red from crying last night and all he wanted to do was roll up in his blanket and pretend he didn't exist.
Last night's argument still echoed in his head like a skipping track, reminding him why he went to bed miserable and angry. Realistically, he knew he couldn't stay in bed all day no matter how horrible he felt.
But he was going to try.
So he slept. He slept when the sun was high and shining into his bedroom brightly and he slept through Bucky knocking at his door.
It was the persistent ringing of his cell that finally pulled him from his shapeless dreams and back to the land of the living. Sniffling, nose still stuffed up, Steve answered it without glancing at the screen.
"Hello?" He croaked, cringing at the sound of his own voice.
Static filtered through the phone, crackling in Steve's ear, "Steve? Can you hear me?"
Pulling the phone away from his ear, he squinted at the caller ID and wondered why the universe decided today would be a great day to test him.
"Sam, not today," he whined. Steve took the phone under his blanket to hide from the sun and let out another chest wracking cough.
"You sound awful, do you need me to drive Riley down there?" Sam asked, concern bleeding through the phone and he should probably take him up on the offer. But he really didn't want to see anyone right now and he told Sam so. "Okay, what happened?"
Steve bit back a groan, "Nothing happened. Why does something have to happen?"
Years ago, when Sarah had him register as a legal extraterrestrial, he didn't expect himself to get along with the agents of the MIB. Sam was professional, even then when he was new to the department and he had always been able to see through Steve's bullshit.
"Wouldn't have anything to do with Bucky Barnes, would it?" He asked and if only he knew…
Steve curled into a ball, keeping the phone to his ear while he got comfortable. He was still sleepy, the fever made his mind sluggish when he just wakes up and it'd be nice if Sam would leave him be.
"Nope. Buck is doing just fine," he lied as he yawned. Sam knew that Bucky could be dying and hadn't told him, probably because it's confidential but it still hurt to be left in the dark.
"Alright, well I'm gonna call him and ask why you sound like you've smoked three packs of cigarettes then," and before Steve could find his voice to stop him, he hung up.
Tossing his phone to the side, Steve decided to let Sam be nosy if he wanted to. It's not like Bucky wanted to talk to him anyway, not after last night.
He stayed under the blanket for a while until soft knocks fell against his bedroom door and when he refused to leave the bed, the door creaked open.
"Stevie…?" When Bucky only got a groan in reply, Steve could hear him step slowly into the room. "C'mon, if your fever is getting worse you need to take your medicine."
Steve popped his head out of the blanket, fully aware that he looked just as bad as he felt and glared at the sight of Bucky's abs. Here he was, sick and pissed off and this man couldn't put on a shirt so he could think clearly?
He reached for some tissues grumpily, cleaning up his nose as best he could while Bucky set a bottle of water on the nightstand.
"Are we gonna talk or are you gonna pretend you're asleep all day?" He asked, pulling his hair up into a sloppy bun.
"I was sleeping, you know. Fevers make me sleepy," Steve grumbled.
"And grouchy," Bucky added while Steve took measured sips of the water. "But last night probably didn't help."
Steve sighed, rubbing his throat with a wince, "Look, I'm not really up for arguing right now. If you're just here because Sam asked, you can go. I'm fine."
His throat and chest disagreed but Steve felt raw from last night's argument and he'd rather have space than get upset again.
"Why would you say that? You know I don't mind takin' care of ya," Bucky said softly, ruffling Steve's hair with a small smile. "I almost had your fever gone until you decided to hibernate for the day."
Steve sneezed, "Can you blame me?"
Grey-blue eyes softened, taking in his flushed cheeks and tiny body wrapped up in the blankets. Steve will never get tired of Bucky looking at him like that, like nothing else existed outside of the two of them.
Right now, his heart ached to be at the end of that look.
"No, I can't," he murmured. Steve scooted over, patting the space beside him for the human to sit down. When he did, they sat back against the headboard shoulder to shoulder. "I don't blame you for anything. I wanted to apologize to you this morning but you never came out of your room."
Steve snuck a glance at his alarm clock beside the bed and felt the blood drain out of his face when he realized it was way past noon.
"Last night, I…," Bucky cleared his throat and pulled the blanket over his legs. "I realize I said some shitty stuff to you. Well, Sam threatened to kick my ass, but I am sorry I said it."
He let Bucky's warm hand hold his own and slowly, the anger he had woken with began to dissolve.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Steve said, he couldn't talk above a raspy whisper and Bucky's face slipped into a frown.
"You sound awful, doll," he ghosted a finger down Steve's throat and smirked when Bucky felt a shiver run through him. "I shouldn't have had you yelling like that when I know you're sick-"
"Buck," he croaked, "I shouldn't be pressuring you…"
But the idea of losing Bucky had shaken him. He wasn't sure when the human had carved himself an irreplaceable spot in Steve's heart but he knew nothing could ever fill it if he left.
"The truth is, I'm scared too," he whispered into the space between them and squeezed Steve's hand. "I feel like I'm always scared and the idea of getting tests run on me by an alien… It freaks me out."
Steve let his head fall onto Bucky's shoulder, "I'd be there, you know. I wouldn't let you go through it alone and I'd never let anything hurt you."
He pressed his face against Bucky's shoulder, letting out a soft sigh when Bucky gently put his chin on top of his head.
"I know," he said, lips brushing against Steve's hair. "You're something else, Rogers. And I took the time to think about it…"
Steve hummed, a little smile pulling at his lips when he felt Bucky's thumb running over the back of his hand.
"Yeah?" He asked, sniffling again.
"And I thought, what if it was you?" Steve lifted his head to squint at Bucky in confusion. "Like, what if you were the one that could be dying? I was running around like a chicken with it's head cut off because you have a fever. If you were in my position, I'd be a mess…"
Steve shifted uneasily, "I'm not trying to guilt you into anything."
He let Steve wiggle closer, the length of their sides pressed against each other and hands intertwined between them. Something warm blossomed across Steve's chest when he felt Bucky's metal hand touch his cheek.
The cool metal felt nice against his face and he leaned into the touch, surprised that Bucky was willingly touching him with the prosthetic.
"I'd want you to get those tests done," he admitted. "It'd eat me alive to wonder if you were… I understand why you got upset. I was acting awful because-"
He cut himself off and when Steve looked up, Bucky was blinking furiously.
"I just," his voice cracked with emotion and Steve held his hand tighter. "I'm sorry. I was acting like a fool."
Steve shook his head, "I'm relieved you're considering it. That's all I wanted, Buck."
"Anything for you, doll." He replied, combing Steve's hair out of his face and feeling his forehead. "Anything at all."
Apparently 'anything' didn't include another nap even though Steve was exhausted. Bucky refused to let him go back to sleep until he ate something and took his medicine.
He didn't have the energy to argue.
"If you aren't better by tomorrow, I'm calling Sam's husband," Bucky muttered from the kitchen. Whatever he was cooking smelled delicious and Steve's stomach growled loudly from his seat on the couch.
Blushing, Steve finished his sketch of Bucky in his apron and tried to ignore the weird noises his stomach kept making.
"Riley hates coming down here," Steve called to him. "It's hard to get his wheelchair in the cabin so I try to only call him if it's an emergency."
He set his sketchbook to the side, walking into the kitchen to talk to Bucky directly. The soft throw blanket they usually kept on the couch was thrown over his shoulders, trailing behind him like a cape as he shuffled over to the kitchen table.
"As far as I'm concerned, this fever of yours is an emergency," he mumbled, turning the stove top off and turning to look at Steve. "The party is this weekend and if you're still sniffling, we should stay home."
Steve stood up to shuffle himself and the blanket over to Bucky with a sleepy smile.
"I like staying home," he didn't add that he'd also be all too happy to stay at home with Bucky instead of going out.
He gently steered Steve to sit back down at the table before pulling down plates, "Sunshine, you're always here at home and it's your friend's anniversary party."
"Yeah, I know…," since Steve's been up, Bucky has been using all sorts of names for him and each time, without fail, he'd blush embarrassingly bright. "You still want to go with me?"
Bucky set a plate of steaming food in front of him, "Unless you'd rather take someone else…"
"Buck, I'd love to take you," he said, knocking his foot against Bucky's underneath the table. "I wouldn't want to take anyone else."
And it was the truth, the idea of Bucky dressed in a tux, pulling him into a slow dance had delightful shivers running down Steve's spine.
"Thought maybe you'd want to take Stark," the human huffed around a mouthful of food. Instantly, Steve was pulled out of his daydream scowling.
"Tony? Why would I take him?"
"Dunno," he shrugged. "You were singing his praises last night, figured you'd rather take him."
Steve didn't mean to but he couldn't stop the giggles from escaping, "You-" He gasped, clutching his chest with amusement. "Thought I'd take Tony? What-"
Now Bucky looked embarrassed, "I just thought you'd rather take a 'super nice, great, handsome genius' than some cyborg."
Steve bit back more laughter and raised a brow, "You think Tony's handsome?"
The human groaned, letting his head fall onto the table with a dull thud. Shoulders still shaking with silent laughter, Steve reached over the plates to tuck a piece of Bucky's hair behind his ear.
"That's what you said-"
"No, I don't think I said he was a 'super nice, great handsome genius' ," Steve repeated with a grin. "Although I'm sure he'd agree if you told him so..."
"He flirts with you every time he comes over," Bucky said against the table, looking up at Steve carefully.
He tilted his head, why Bucky would ever think Tony was flirting with him was a mystery but it seemed to really bother him.
"That's just how Tony is, plus he's been with Pepper for like, a decade already," Bucky blinked once, seemingly lost. "They're um… the equivalent of engaged, I think."
Bucky looked away, the tips of his ears red, "Oh."
"Yeah, oh." Steve said, rolling his eyes. "Did you think me and Tony had like… a thing? A romantic thing?"
The human nodded, sitting back up and looking everywhere but at Steve. Well this was sort of humiliating, he can't believe that Bucky would think him and Tony we're together like that.
The fact that they were friends was a miracle in and of itself.
"Oh, Buck. No… We aren't interested in each other like that and never have been. Pepper is everything to Tony and-" Steve cleared his throat before he had the chance to embarrass himself further. "And I meant it when I said I'd like to take you with me."
Bucky let out a relieved sigh and matched Steve's smile, "Sure looked like it though."
"Jerk," he snorted.
"Punk," Bucky shot back, tangling their legs underneath the table. "So I'm still going as your plus one?"
He nodded, glad that the misunderstanding was taken care of and out of the way. There was only one person he's ever wanted in such a way and it was the human smiling brightly across from him.
Someone he couldn't have.