Holdin' On (Assorted Stucky One-Shots)

Sick Days

Setting: 7:00 AM, Int. Steve and Bucky's Apartment, Bedroom

Note: Pre-Serum (Before Bucky got drafted)

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Pain burned in Steve's chest. He grasped blindly around him, his fist closing around the soft fabric of a shirt.

"Hands off, Stevie. I'm tryna sleep..." A deep voice grumbled. Steve gulped, trying his best to breathe steadily.

"S-sorry, Buck," Steve wheezed. He shook with the threat of a coughing fit scratching at his rasping throat. The brunette's eyes snap open. One look at Steve was all it took. The brunette sat up, quick enough to give him a headrush. He reached over Steve, yanking open a drawer and snatching out Steve's inhaler.

"Stevie? Here..." The brunette passed Steve the inhaler. The blonde took it from him, smiling weakly.

"Thanks, Buck," he whispered hoarsely. Bucky got out of the bed and Steve shivered. With one last fleeting glance at Steve, Bucky hurried into the kitchen, opening the cabinets in search of tea. Finally, he found the small box of tea bags he had been collecting, despite the price. For Steve... He turned the stove on and grabbed a kettle, filling it with water. From the other room, he could hear Steve's breathing even out and he sighed with relief. Pulling a cup out of the cabinet, he strode back to their room.

"Punk...get back in bed," Bucky ordered as Steve shakily stood.

"N-n-no...I'm f-fine, Buck..." Steve stumbled to the door. Bucky caught his wrist as the blonde's legs gave out beneath him. He carefully picked Steve up, bridal style and carried him back to their bed, laying him down gently on the thin, ragged blankets. Steve shivered as Bucky pulled the blankets over him. Bucky watched Steve for a moment, lost in his wide, ocean blue eyes. The kettle whistled from the kitchen, snapping Bucky out of his daze. He turned, walking back towards the kitchen.

"Bucky..." Steve choked on his own breath, stopping Bucky in his tracks.

"Yeah, Steve?"

"You need...to go....to work..." Steve croaked.

Bucky shook his head, walking into the kitchen and pouring the burning water into the cup. "Nah, I really don't, Stevie. I'd rather stay here. You're gonna kill yourself if I don't."

"Not true!" Steve protested. Bucky padded back into the room to find a sulking Steve. He stifled a laugh, plopping down beside his best friend.

"C'mere and drink up, punk."

Steve huffed, but shifted closer to Bucky. "Fine, jerk."

Bucky slung his arm around Steve's bony shoulders, carefully setting the steaming cup in Steve's upturned palm. "Be careful. It's hot."

"Yessir," Steve mumbled, raising the cup to his lips and taking a big swig. His mouth burned as if it was on fire and he gasped, his eyes widening.

Bucky snatched the cup from Steve's hands, trading it for the glass of water he always kept on their beside table for Steve. "Steve! I said be careful!"

" 'M fine, Buck."

"Yeah, right."

Steve took a tentative sip of the water, settling into Bucky's side. Bucky sighed, but couldn't help but grin. Stevie...I'm always gonna take care of you, punk...

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((So far, fluff. Love these guys.))