Till the End of the Line: Our Beginning | Stucky Fanfic

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

1942

Bucky crawled into bed, groaning softly as he did so. Steve was right behind him, closing the door softly. "Don't forget to check the window," Bucky mumbled as he pulled the covers up and around him.

"Buck, I know." Steve gave him a small smile and double checked that the window was closed.

This afternoon, when Bucky came home from work he had an awful migraine. It wasn't the first time he'd come home with an attitude and his head throbbing, nor would it be the last. It was the only time Steve was ever allowed to look after him (granted, Bucky hardly ever got sick in the first place). So when Bucky walked into the house, face screwed and twisted in pain and his body lumbering towards the couch, Steve knew exactly what was going on.

"Dinner's almost ready," he called softly, only for Bucky to whine as he plopped down onto the couch. "Don't go to sleep yet. Gotta eat first, or you'll wake up sick." Steve walked away from the soup he was heating up and moved to sit beside Bucky's head.

"Not a child, Stevie," Bucky grumbled, his words slurring a little.

Steve hummed and gently ran his fingers through Bucky's hair. "I know. But you'd treat me the same way. Let me take care of you, yeah?" Despite his long, pitchy whine, Bucky leaned into Steve's touch.

The skinny blond had managed to feed Bucky and get him to bathe before the two climbed into the dark, chilly bedroom. Steve checked the windows, like Bucky had reminded, and climbed into bed beside his warm, brunet boyfriend. "You feel a little better?"

"Lil' bit. Dark's nice," he mumbled, face already planted into the cool pillow. "You warm 'nough?"

Steve nodded, curling into Bucky's strong embrace. "Yeah, I am. Toes aren't, though." With that, the blond wedged his toes between Bucky's calves.

The older boy hissed, nose scrunched and lips curled. "Shit, Stevie. Fuckin' icicle." Steve chuckled and eased his feet back into the slot between Bucky's calves. "Seriously, punk. How do you stay cold?"

"Dunno. Good excuse to cuddle with you, though." Steve gave him a goofy smile and laid his head on Bucky's chest.

Bucky gave him a weak chuckle. "That is very true." He kissed lightly at Steve's forehead, barely pressing his lips to the skin. They laid in silence, curled up under the covers and wrapped in each other's arms. Slowly, the throbbing in Bucky's head eased up as the dark surrounded them. It wasn't gone, by no means, but it was a little more tolerable.

Except for the fact he couldn't fall asleep.

"Hey Steve?" he whispered, eyes still closed and face still in the pillow. He barely got a hum in response, the blond squirming in his arms. "You still pissed I didn't enlist?"

Steve pulled away a little, moving so they were eye level. "No," he croaked. Even with the room pitch dark, Bucky knew Steve was blushing everywhere. He couldn't stop himself from smirking. Steve cleared his throat and tried again. "No, I'm not. Couldn't stay mad at you, you know that."

Bucky shrugged half-heartedly. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean you agree with what I did." Silence lulled over them, only the sounds of the night outside the window and the creak of their neighbors walking overhead. "You know," Bucky eventually said with a deep sigh, "I'd go if I had to. If they started drafting people like they did in the Great War, I'd go. Not like I have much choice in the matter. But," his voice cracked a little - Steve didn't comment, "if going over there to fight in this god forsaken war makes somebody a hero in your eyes. . . I'd go in a heartbeat. I'd go fight for you, Steve. Not for the country or for the Europeans or whatever else they're saying the war's over. You." Steve sniffled and curled into Bucky's embrace again, head tucked under Bucky's chin.