Masquerade

8- Cuts

"Where are you going?" You ask when Bucky walks out of the bathroom dressed in his combat suit. "I figured out where their spot is so I'm gonna go check it out," he says.

"Okay, well, be safe. I don't wanna finish this mission alone," you say.

"I'll be back before the suns up," Bucky says before walking out of the hotel room.

Your dream stays fresh in your mind as you turn the tv on to try and focus on something else. The moon hangs high in the sky as the sounds of dialogue drown out your thought. But it's not enough.

So you decide to take a shower. Maybe water hitting your face with clear your head. The soapy substance of shampoo sits in your hair as you stare at the shower head.

He'll be fine. Why are you so worried? You hate him. You always say you want him dead. You're never scared when he goes on missions alone. It's probably your sick head getting to you. You probably just need sleep.

Washing the soap out of your hair, you turn the water off and wrap a towel around you. Changing into something more comfortable, you take a pill of Advil and swallow it with the help of water. Wrapping a blanket around your body in the form of a burrito, you lay down on the bed and try to fall asleep.

Leaving the light on for Bucky.

—

The sound of the door opening and closing jolts you awake. You see Bucky limping over to the bed. His metal hand is pressed firmly against his right side and you immediately get up. "Shit, I'm sorry, doll. I didn't mean to wake you," he says. The moonlight still peers in the room and you wonder how long he was go for.

Thank god I left the light on.

"What happened?" You ask as you get up and walk over to him before having to sit down from being lightheaded. "You're bleeding," you say, noticing the cuts on his face.

"You should see the other guys," Bucky groans with pain as he lays on his back. He closes his eyes and lets out a few grunts and you feel your face grow hot.

"C'mon, we need to clean you up," you say as you stand up again.

"One, you're sick, two, it's fine I'll clean up in the morning," Bucky says.

"One, you're gonna get blood on the bed, two, no you won't," you say. Bucky opens one eye to look at you. "Get your god damn ass in the bathroom, James, or so help me god, sick or not, I will drag you there by your ear," you say.

A few moments of silence pass before Bucky gets up and limps to the bathroom. "You should call me James more often. Is sounds hot in your voice," he flirts as he sits on the counter.

You remove his metal hand from his right side. He unzipped his vest and you see that his black undershirt is dark from blood. You swallowed your gasp as you look around for something to clean it with. "Take your shirt off," you say as you walk out of the bathroom and grab one of the bags Tony made you pack in case one of you got injured.

Walking back into the bathroom, Bucky is now shirtless and you can get a good look at his cut. "You wanna tell me what happened?" You ask as you wash and sanitize your hands throughly to avoid giving him an infection.

"I was right about where they meet up. A few of their guys saw me and jumped me as I was sneaking out. They got me a few times, but I was able to kill them so they wouldn't leak anything to whoever's in charge," he says.

You press a gauze to his cut and he hiss with pain and throws his head back to lean against the mirror behind him. You clear your throat and are glad you have a cold so you could blame it on that. Glancing at Bucky's right hand gripping the edge of the sink, you feel heat grow between your thighs. For some reason the way his veins are popping out of his bicep is hot as fuck. Mouth feeling dry, you swallow a wad of cottony saliva as you tape up his stomach wound.

"I have to clean your face," you say. Bucky nods and you grab some more gauzes and lean up on your tiptoes to clean the on on his forehead. He spreads his legs and you move in between them. His eyes study your face as you focus on taping his cuts closed so you don't have to stitch them.

You move on to clean his cheek cuts. His hands grab your waist tightly when the alcohol burned his cut. "Sorry," you mumble when he lets out a hiss of pain. "S'okay," he says.

Wiping dry blood away from his nose, you focus on the cuts on his lips. Mentally preparing and mentally kicking yourself for saving his lip cuts for last. "I have to clean your lips and then you'll be done," you say. Bucky nods as his gaze focuses on your lips, snapping back up to your eyes.

Gently, you wipe away the dried up blood. His grip on your hips tighten when you start cleaning the cut itself. You feel his eyes burning holes in your face as they stare at you. Giving in, you look up at his eyes and make eye contact with his blue ones.

"You should be more careful," you say. Bucky doesn't say anything as he continues to study your eyes. "I'd hate it if someone killed you before me," you say before continuing to clean his cut up lips.

"Sorry," he says softly.

You clean up the last cut and start to pack everything up. Bucky doesn't let go of your waist and you grab his hands with yours. "You need to get to bed," you say. He smirks at you and your roll your eyes.

"You can let go of my waist now," you say. He leans in slowly, until his lips are inches from yours. "Till next time," he says before letting go of you and sliding off the counter.

Did I magically heal from my sickness in the span of a few hours? Also what the fuck?

—

A/n: Not me writing the cleaning cuts part to 'Do I Wanna Know' by Arctic Monkeys, 'Earned It' by The Weekend and 'Don't Blame Me' by Taylor Swift.