Stucky oneshots

Sick Bucky. Again.

Steve hurried out of the quinjet and back to the compound. He'd been on a mission and gotten a call from Sam. Bucky was sick and he couldn't take care of him. So Steve left the mission in Natasha, Tony, Bruce, and Wanda's hands and went back to Bucky. Having all of them on the mission was overkill, anyway.

He walked out of the elevator and onto his and Bucky's floor, seeing an annoyed Sam in the kitchen.

"Where is he? How's Buck?" Steve asked, not seeing his husband in the living room or kitchen.

Sam shook his head. "How you married him is beyond me. I've driven to Brooklyn and back twice for the soup he likes, only to get it wrong both times, attempt to make soup from scratch, and now, he doesn't even want soup. It's, and I quote, 'too liquid.'" He turned the stove off and set the pot of soup he'd tried to make aside. "He's laying on the bathroom floor and he refuses to move. I am done here. I am finding new friends. Good luck. Godspeed. Goodbye."

Steve suppressed a laugh as Sam stormed out, clearly beyond frustrated. Steve knew exactly where he was coming from though; Bucky could be excessively needy and stubborn when he was sick.

He went to their bathroom and saw Bucky laying on the floor with his cheek against the cool tile. He knelt down beside him and laid his hand against his cheek.

"Hey baby. I heard you're not feeling too good." He gently brushed the hair away from his sweaty forehead.

Bucky whined in response, his bottom lip in a pout.

Steve grabbed the thermometer from the counter and guided it into Bucky's mouth, holding it in place until it beeped. "That's quite a fever you've got there: 103.6. Did you take any medicine?"

Bucky averted his gaze to the tiles, telling Steve everything he wouldn't say.

"You refused to take anything, didn't you?" He sighed, shaking his head. "You can't refuse medicine when you're sick, sweetheart. You know that."

"Can't swallow." He explained shortly, the words hurting as he spoke in a quiet, raspy voice.

"Alright tell you what, let's get you in a bath and I'll bring you a popsicle and some medicine." Steve decided, not leaving room for argument. Bucky found room anyway.

"Hmm-mm." He shook his head in disagreement with the plan, not about to move from his spot on the floor.

"Which part are you 'hmm-mm'ing about?" Steve sighed softly. "The bath, the popsicle, or the medicine?"

"Yes." He mumbled, opposed to all of it.

"Bucky, come on. You'll feel better after." He tried to coax him to no avail.

Bucky turned his head away from Steve in defiance.

"Bucky, seriously." Steve shook his head. "How about no popsicle then? Just a bath and medicine."

"No meds." He negotiated, keeping his head turned away.

"Meds are non-negotiable. How about meds, no bath, no popsicle, and I'll throw in some cuddles." He counter-offered, feeling like an attorney negotiating a plea deal.

Bucky considered the offer for a moment. "Ice pack?"

"I can get an ice pack, yes. Deal?"

Bucky turned back to face him and nodded, making Steve smile. Steve had known what he was doing all along; if he negotiated and gave Bucky options, he could almost always get him to come to an agreement.

"Okay, I'm going to grab the ice pack and medication. I'll be right back." He explained, hurrying to get the items before Bucky got more stubborn and refused again.

He returned and handed him the ice pack, which Bucky instantly held to his throat.

"Alright, we need to sit up to take the meds. Can I help you sit up?" He asked, setting the medication and glass of water on the counter while he kneeled beside him again.

"Can't move." Bucky decided, closing his eyes to avoid looking at Steve because he didn't have the energy to turn his head again.

"Honey, just for a minute. I'll help you, okay? All you have to do it take the pills." He promised, carding his fingers through his hair.

Bucky gave an incoherent grunt in response, which Steve took as a 'yes.' He picked him up and held him upright with one arm, using his other arm to put the meds in Bucky's mouth and practically pour the water down his throat. All the while, Bucky held the ice pack to his throat and whined.

"Good job, bubba. Do you want to go lay in bed?" Steve asked before letting go of him, looking at Bucky's face in the mirror. His eyes were still closed and he was pale as a ghost.

"Floor." Bucky pointed back to his previous spot. "Cuddles." He reminded him.

Steve breathed a laugh before nodding. "Okay."

He gently put Bucky back where he had been laying and laid down beside him. Bucky immediately cuddled against Steve, who wrapped his arms around him and kissed his head.

"Get some rest. I'm right here." Steve encouraged him to sleep. It wouldn't be long now; his eyes had been closed for the last few minutes anyway.

Bucky fell asleep in minutes and woke up a few hours later. The meds had kicked in, his fever was lower, and he felt less like death. He opened his eyes and realized Steve was still holding him on the bathroom floor.

"Steve?" He got his attention, his voice still raspy.

"Yeah baby?" He looked down at him lovingly, placing a hand on his cheek to feel his temperature. "You feel any better?"

Bucky nodded. "You must really love me."

"Of course I do. Why do you say that?" He asked, tracing patterns on his arm.

"Because you're laying on the bathroom floor." He explained, a hint of a smile on his face.

Steve laughed, kissing his forehead. "I'd lay anywhere with you."

Bucky closed his eyes again, still feeling tired and ready to go back to sleep again. "That's gross."