Home (HE/HIM VERSION)

9

"Temperature is high, pretty congested, and a bad cough. All symptoms of a heavy cold, so there's nothing to worry about!"

Just as Bucky had suspected, y/n was sick. He'd barely been able to sleep due to his blocked nose and cough, meaning that Bucky hadn't had much sleep either. He wasn't upset about that, though. He was far more worried about his husband. Bucky didn't like seeing y/n sick and miserable. It wasn't the same around the house without his bubbly personality to light up the room. So, as soon as their alarm chimed at seven, Bucky called the local doctor.

Y/n was bundled up on the couch. His head rested on Bucky's chest, keeping his eyes closed as he tried his hardest to focus on his husband's heartbeat instead of the pounding headache ravaging through his mind. He hadn't been sick in a long, long time, so to be hit with such a heavy cold was a big shock to his system. His plans for the day had been completely ruined, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to be held by his husband.

Bucky nodded along to what the doctor said, letting out a slight sigh of relief as he was told that it was just a heavy cold. "Okay, good." He murmured, pressing a comforting kiss to the top of y/n's head as he continued to listen to the doctor ramble on. It was just a cold. God, the poor man had already spiralled into thinking it was something much worse, so it was nice to be reassured. But, the worry in his eyes still hadn't completely disappeared.

You see, y/n being sick meant that he didn't have much control over his powers. Every cough, sneeze, or sniffle caused something to move, flicker, or float. Bucky had been dealing with it all night, catching flying objects before they smashed into the wall - or, even better, his head. So not only did Bucky have to deal with staying in character, but he had to deal with distracting the doctor from any flying objects.

"I recommend lots of rest, warm blankets, and some hot drinks. We don't want you to still be sick for the fundraiser this weekend!" The doctor exclaimed as he tapped y/n's shoulder, earning a tired hum from y/n and an awkward laugh from Bucky. "Oh, I might have some medicine he can take to speed up the recovery! Let me have a look in my bag..." He hummed, bending down to rummage through his bag.

God, it was lucky the doctor bent down. A book had been flying straight toward his head.

Bucky quickly caught the book, his eyes wide with shock as he set it down on the small table beside the couch. One arm stayed protectively wrapped around his husband as he scanned around the room for anything else trying to hit him or the doctor, and it was good that he did. A tissue box had launched itself right at y/n. The super soldier obviously caught it, setting it down on top of the book he'd caught moments before. "I think we're okay without the medication. Jack hasn't got much of an appetite, so I'm not sure if he'll be able to stomach it." Bucky rushed out, just wanting to get the doctor out of the house.

"Oh, are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Thank you anyway, though!"

*****

A few hours had passed, and y/n had convinced Bucky to go into work, despite him offering to close the store for the day. Y/n didn't want Bucky to miss out on running the store, he loved his little job as a shoemaker. Plus, y/n was very aware that he had orders to finish.

So, there Bucky was, sat behind the counter polishing a fresh pair of leather shoes. He wasn't focused at all. The only thing on his mind was his husband. He never liked leaving him home alone, but now that he was sick, it made him even more paranoid. Bucky felt as if he was being an asshole for heading into work. He should've just stayed at home with him. Maybe they could've had a cozy day watching television.