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Something's happened. Bucky can tell.
It's not every day that the main nurse's station of Maria Stark Memorial Hospital is so gossipy, so fluttery, so... not appropriate for five in the morning, Jesus Christ. Bucky hasn't even had time to have his coffee yet, not since Alpine batted his one and only French press off the counter this morning when he was staring blearily at the toaster and he had to spend ten minutes cleaning glass off the kitchen floor. So instead of immediately rushing over to Scott's side and listening in on whatever is going on, Bucky instead walks straight past and into the locker room, gets dressed, then makes a beeline for the coffee machine. Which is, unfortunately, directly next to the desk.
"Bucky!" Sharon says, sounding far too pleased to see him for such an early hour. "So great to see you!"
She's laying it on thick today, batting her eyelashes at him and giving him a saccharine smile that makes him want to vomit. Instead of rising to the bait, Bucky instead gives her an unimpressed glare as he waits for his garbage coffee to be ready.
"What happened?" Bucky asks. May as well get it out of the way - otherwise Sharon's going to be insufferable.
"New patient in the military ward," Riley replies, taking a sip of his own coffee. Starbucks, because Riley is an asshole who lives down the block from the place that sells the nectar of the gods and never gets Bucky a coffee no matter how many times he's been bribed. "A captain of some sort. Real big, real blonde. Just your type."
Bucky groans, then immediately perks up because hell yes, his coffee is done. He takes a reverent sip and sighs happily. Nothing can beat the taste of rocket fuel in the morning. Then he remembers the situation at hand and immediately starts glaring again at a gleeful Sharon.
"No way."
"You don't even know what I was going to say," she whines, pouting dramatically.
"We all know," Maria says on her way past. She grabs a stack of files on the top of the nurse's station, leaning over far too low to be practical. However, it does give Sharon a clear view down the front of her scrubs. "You're not subtle."
"Neither are you," Riley mumbles under his breath, before taking a large, innocent sip of his coffee. Maria whacks him on the ass with the files as she leaves.
"I was going to say that you should totally go check up on him!" Sharon says - as soon as she's dragged her gaze away from Maria's ass, that is. "All in the name of professionalism, of course."
"Absolutely not," Bucky replies flatly, cradling his coffee in his hands like it'll somehow be able to shield him from his best friend's schemes. "Military, Shar? Really? Like hell am I touching that with a ten-foot pole."
"He might be into guys," Riley says, sounding much too hopeful.
"Or he's got an army-brat wife at home and five kids," Bucky retorts.
"His chart said he's unmarried," Sharon says. "And you know how good I am at gay-spotting - if that man isn't on an all-dick diet, he at least supplements -"
"You're only good at gay-spotting when we go to gay bars - it's almost impossible to get it wrong there-"
"Anyway," Scott interrupts, piping up from his seat in front of the computer. "More about Captain Hottie?"
"Fucking huge," Sharon gushes, swooning back into her chair. "His shoulders are too big for the regular cots so we had to get one of those extra-big ones up from storage."
"I think one of my ovaries exploded just looking at him," Riley sighs, and Bucky snorts into his coffee.
"You don't have ovaries."
"He makes me feel like I do," Riley replies seriously. "I want to have his children."
"Not before I have them first," Sharon mumbles. Riley throws his straw at her.
"You're a lesbian."
"I've changed my mind. Those biceps have changed me as a person."
Bucky bites his tongue to keep from sighing dramatically, and instead just sips at his coffee.
----
Bucky doesn't see Hot Captain Perfect (as he's been dubbed unanimously by the nurses who've seen him and also Doctor Banner) for the first week he's there, but he definitely hears things. For one, the guy's apparently sweet as honey, listening to Bev talk about her grandkid for half an hour without getting bored and complimenting Claire on her hair. According to Sharon, Hot Captain Perfect (HCP for short) has the general disposition of a golden retriever puppy in the body of a line-backer, and Bucky absolutely refuses to give her any leverage because he's sure that as soon as he starts showing interest, Sharon will take it upon herself to play Cupid. Again.
Turns out Bucky doesn't even need to do anything for Sharon to have her way, because on his day off a week later she's calling him up with an impressively croaky throat and begging him to take her shift that night.
"Please, Bucky," she begs. She sounds miserable, honestly; she keeps sniffing and hacking and Bucky's pretty sure that he can hear David Attenborough in the background - a sure sign of illness. "Nobody else is around, and the rehab department only has a couple of nurses on duty at a time. If you don't go, then poor Bev will be there all by herself, and she's still recovering from her knee reconstruction!"
Bucky sighs, letting his head fall back onto the couch. Beside him, Alpine chirrups and rubs her face against his leg, leaving white hair all over his sweatpants.
"Okay, fine," Bucky finally says. "But you owe me, okay?"
"Absolutely," Sharon says emphatically. "Thank you so much, Bucky, you're amazing."
And that's how Bucky finds himself taking the six-to-six night shift on a goddamned Sunday night.
Normally, Bucky doesn't mind the night shift. There's rarely anyone else around, and he can go about his check-ups and duties peacefully enough, but he's been at work the last five days with twelve-hour shifts and today was meant to be the start of his three-day break before he gets his new schedule. Now it seems his break will only be two days before he's back into it, and he can't stop himself from groaning as he pours himself some coffee at the nurse's station. Bev had given him his list of duties as soon as he'd arrived, with a pat on the cheek and promises of midnight cookies she'd brought from home, so the first couple of hours are spent peacefully restocking supply closets and waking up patients to take their medications. He takes his break at eleven, his feet already hurting and the stump of his arm throbbing where it's connected to his prosthetic, but Bev's got cookies and like hell is he going to turn that down.
"I almost forgot to tell you," Bev says when he's halfway through his third cookie, "Can you check on the patient in room 107 for me? He's just gotten out of surgery and I want to keep a close eye on him, but the military ward is only accessible up those damn stairs since the elevator's stopped working, and my knee is still too sore to make that trek."
"Sure thing," Bucky mumbles through a mouthful of cookies. "His info sheet's in the room?" Bev nods in affirmation, and there's a glint in her eyes that Bucky hasn't seen before, but he's too tired to question her about it.
Bucky quickly regrets that decision, as when he knocks gently on the door of room 107 he comes face-to-face with the most gorgeous guy he's ever seen. A guy who has to be none other than Hot Captain Perfect.
"You've got to be kidding me," Bucky blurts out, and HCP startles from his position staring out the window at the dark city. His eyes immediately find Bucky, bright blue and unfocused, pupils huge, and yeah, this guy is stoned out of his mind.
"Hi," HCP breathes, and Bucky desperately tries to pull himself together. Even with his words slurring, HCP has a voice that makes Bucky want to get on his knees and call the guy Sir, and he's not even that kinky. Usually.
Clearing his throat and making sure his voice doesn't sound too high-pitched, Bucky gives the guy a smile. "My name's Bucky, I'm just coming up to check on you."
HCP doesn't respond to that, instead continuing to stare at Bucky with glassy eyes, so Bucky takes that as his cue to cross the room and examine the chart hanging up next to the bed. Apparently, HCP's real name is Steven Rogers, and he'd come in with a giant shrapnel wound in his thigh that had quickly turned septic. From Doctor Banner's notes, they'd only been able to remove all of the shrapnel a few hours ago in surgery, and from the dose of morphine that's meant to be administered every four hours, it's no wonder the guy's so out of it.
"Okay, Captain Rogers," Bucky says, closing the chart and grabbing a couple of gloves from the box beside the bed, "I'm going to top up your morphine, and then I'll check on your bandages, see if they need a change, okay?"
"Okay," Rogers replies amiably. He's still staring up at Bucky, a dumb smile spreading over his face. "You're really pretty."
Bucky can't help the bark of laughter he lets out, and Rogers' grin turns pleased. "Thank you, Captain. I'm just going to pull back these blankets, now."
"Okay," Rogers says again, still smiling. He has a really nice smile.
It doesn't take long to top up the IV bag attached to Rogers' arm and inject the morphine into the port, and it's only a matter of seconds before that gorgeous smile is turning fuzzy at the edges
Bucky forces himself to look away and focuses on pulling the blankets down so that Rogers' left leg is out from the blankets. The bandages covering his leg from the knee up are slowly unwound, and Bucky winces sympathetically at the wound. It's pretty big, an ugly gash across Rogers' thigh that's been sewn up as best as it could, with several other wounds surrounding the main one. The bandages are gunky and pretty gross, so Bucky gathers them up and places them in the hazards bin as quickly as he can. Rogers doesn't seem to mind the absolute state of his leg, and is instead just watching Bucky with wide, glassy eyes.
"Are you in any pain?" Bucky asks, quickly changing gloves before grabbing some fresh bandages.
"Who could be in pain with an angel standing over them?" Rogers says dreamily, and Bucky cannot be held accountable for the flush that rushes to his cheeks.
"That morphine really isn't playing around with you, huh?" Bucky mumbles, forcing out a laugh. It's been so damn long since he's been hit on by a guy as cute as this, and he's very much out of practice. It doesn't help that his hair is unwashed and the bags under his eyes are big enough to empty an entire Macy's.
"Bucky," is all Rogers says in response, eyes growing unfocused. "Bucky, Bucky, Bucky."
"That's me," Bucky says, unable to stop grinning. This guy is just too cute.
"I'm Steve," Rogers says happily. "Steve and Bucky. Bucky, Bucky..."
"It's nice to meet you, Steve," Bucky says, slowly wrapping up Steve's leg as he talks.
"You're so pretty, Bucky," Steve hums, his eyelids fluttering. "Pretty eyes, pretty face. Pretty, so pretty..."
Steve keeps mumbling to himself as Bucky finishes changing his bandages, and by the time Bucky's stood up and disposed of his gloves Steve's eyes are almost shut, but still focused on Bucky.
"You can go back to sleep, Steve," Bucky murmurs. Without thinking, he pulls up the blankets further and tucks them under Steve's chin. "One of the day nurses will be back in a few hours to change that bag."
"Wh't about you?" Steve slurs. He reaches out and grabs onto Bucky's left hand, rough fingertips stroking clumsily across the metal. "Pretty eyes, c'mere..."
Fuck, this guy's making Bucky's heart melt. "I'll be back in a few days, okay? I'll see if I can get this shift again."
"Mmkay," Steve mumbles. "S' long as you come back. Wanna see those pretty eyes again."
Bucky finds himself blushing at that, and he gives Steve's hand a careful squeeze before disentangling himself from Steve's hold. By the time Bucky turns off the light, Steve's already asleep.
----
Bucky gets his schedule a few days later. He's got one regular shift in the ICU on Wednesday, then night shift in rehab all week.
Sharon texts him a few hours later with just a winking emoji. The words You're welcome are quick to follow.
----
"So," Sharon says. She's cornered him in the breakroom at lunchtime, and Bucky groans loudly through a mouthful of cheese and lettuce.
"Can't you wait for me to finish my sandwich before you interrogate me?" he whines, gesturing at the delicious goodness he's holding in his hand.
"Nope," she chirps, sitting down beside him and taking an obnoxious sip of her water. "A little birdy told me that Captain Rogers has a crush on you."
Fucking Bev.
"Does this little birdy also happen to have pink hair and varicose veins?" Bucky grumbles, and yelps when she elbows him.
"I told you he's cute!" she says, grinning. "What did he say to you?"
Bucky feigns indifference, giving a shrug that probably isn't nearly as unaffected as he wants it to be. "He was pretty out of it - Banner's really got him on the good stuff."
"Cut the shit, Barnes - what did he say?"
Bucky studiously avoids Sharon's eyes, taking a large bite of his sandwich. She waits impatiently as he takes as long as he physically can with chewing it, but it's only a matter of time before he has to swallow. "He called me pretty eyes."
Sharon shrieks with glee, almost spilling her glass of water in the process. "I told you! I told you he's queer!"
"Sharon," Bucky whines, dragging out her name as much as possible. "He was high out of his mind and half-asleep to boot - he probably doesn't even remember."
"Uh-huh," Sharon says, unimpressed. "So the fact that he asked me this morning about when a certain dark-haired nurse with a prosthetic has his next shift was a complete coincidence?"
Bucky pretends not to hear her.
----
He's on night shift with Scott this week - a rare occurrence. Scott's usually down in paediatrics, but apparently this week he's been placed up in rehab with Bucky. Because of course the universe is laughing at him.
"I've got the geriatrics hall," Scott says brightly when it's time to serve dinner. "You can take the rest, right?"
Bucky tries not to let his eye twitch when Scott gives him a big wink on his way out, the food cart being pushed with one hand. He can't help the satisfaction he gets when Scott inevitably bumps into the wall.
It takes Bucky about fifteen minutes to get dinner to the other patients in rehab. There's Pete, a middle-aged man who's recovering from a hip replacement, Hailey, a young woman who'd had a foot amputated from cancer, and Walt, a burn victim who seems far too chipper for his current situation. Finally, Bucky can't put it off any longer, and reluctantly makes his way into the military ward. The elevator's been fixed, thank God, so he doesn't have to drag the cart up a flight of stairs, but honestly, he probably would have preferred to take the stairs. Just to give himself more time.
The Maria Stark Memorial Hospital's military ward is considerably bigger than most other hospitals, with transfers from active war zones coming in often with injuries that the field medics and local doctors just can't treat without proper equipment. Most of the time the patients in the ward are honourably discharged, no longer able to serve. Sometimes they go right back into the field. Sometimes they leave the hospital in a body bag.
It's only when Bucky's dropped off dinner to all the other residents of the ward that he makes his way towards room 107, nervousness and something else bubbling up inside his belly. When he knocks on the door, the deep voice inside that calls out "Come in," almost causes his knees to buckle.
"Get a hold of yourself, Barnes," Bucky mutters to himself. Then he takes a deep breath and opens the door.
Steve is sitting in pretty much the exact same position as he was when Bucky was last in here, but this time he's got his uninjured leg propped up and has a pencil and sketchbook held in his hands. Bucky can't tell if the book is really small, or if Steve's hands are just that big. Unlike last time, as soon as Steve sees him he lets out a high-pitched yelp and throws the sketchbook across the room, where it crashes into a pile of clothes that tumble to the floor from their place on a chair. Bucky blinks once, glances between the clothes and Steve's bright red face, and tries not to let his smile show on his face.
"That was certainly one of the more interesting welcomes I've had," Bucky says lightly. Steve's blush grows darker.
"Bucky," he squeaks out. "Uh, hi."
Bucky can't stop the smile on his face this time, and wheels the cart further into the room. "So you do remember me. I was wondering about that."
Steve clears his throat a few times. "Look, uh, Bucky. I want to apologize for my crass behaviour earlier this week. It was... It was rude of me to put you in such a compromising position at your place of employment, and I understand if you do not wish to interact with me any further -"
"Captain Rogers," Bucky interrupts. He's fully grinning now, unable to stop himself, not when Steve is stumbling over his words and licking his lips nervously and looking like that. "It's fine, I promise. Everyone says weird stuff under morphine, it's pretty much a law of the universe. Believe me, I didn't find it rude at all."
Steve swallows, averting his eyes as Bucky sets his dinner tray on the table beside the bed. "I just... I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
Bucky laughs quietly. "Don't worry Captain, you didn't make me uncomfortable. It was sweet."
He doesn't know why he adds that last bit, but it makes Steve's cheeks bloom red again. "Call me Steve. Please."
Steve looks up at him through long, thick eyelashes, and god, Bucky is in danger with this one.
"Steve," Bucky repeats softly. "Don't worry. You were sweet."
"Okay, Bucky."
"What happened to pretty eyes?" Bucky blurts out. Then he internally curses himself and ducks down behind the cart to grab a bottle of water, willing the blush off his face.
"Oh god," Steve groans, and when Bucky resurfaces with a bottle of water in his hand the other man's got his face in his hands. "I'm really sorry about that."
"Relax, Steve, I'm just pulling your leg," Bucky chuckles. "Do you need anything else while I'm here?"
Steve shakes his head, still hiding his face. Bucky finds it far too cute for the situation.
"Well, you can press that red button next to you if you need anything," Bucky says, gesturing at the assistance button. "Or if you just wanna chat. I, uh... The night shift is usually pretty slow, so if you want company..."
Bucky trails off, ignoring the heat in his face. Steve's lifted his head out of his hands and is watching him, a look in his eye that Bucky can't pinpoint.
"Anyway," Bucky clears his throat. "Call if you need. I'll be around."
And with a little dorky wave, Bucky starts making his way to the door.
"I'd like that," Steve says suddenly from behind him. When Bucky turns, he's blushing. "If you came in. When you're free, a'course."
"Okay," Bucky says, hoping his voice isn't as breathy as it sounds to him. "I'll see you later, then."
Steve smiles then, a crooked, embarrassed little thing that makes Bucky's heart skip a beat in his chest. "Okay. See you then, pretty eyes."
Bucky bumps into the doorframe on his way out.
----
The next couple of weeks pass... surprisingly easily. Bucky's apparently been permanently moved to rehab - something that he's pretty sure was orchestrated by Sharon, but she always denies it when he asks - and it's... nice. Steve never throws his book again, or calls Bucky pretty eyes, but he does smile every time Bucky comes into his room, casting shy glances towards him as Bucky goes about his duties.
Bucky tries not to think about how Steve's not going to be staying forever, how he's going to either go home or go back into the field.
They get to talking, too. Steve's originally from Brooklyn, same as Bucky, and when he's on leave he usually stays with friends in the area.
"I'm thinking of getting my own place, though," Steve confesses one night. The room's mostly dark, the light of the moon shining in through the window. "I've been in the military for... Fuck, a long time now. I wanna have a life again. Figure out who I am after everything I've done."
Bucky isn't sure what to say to that, so he just grasps Steve's hand, his stomach fluttering when Steve squeezes back.
----
It's a Wednesday, and Bucky's been put on the day shift - probably a good thing, since his sleep schedule was on its way to being completely obsolete. He's in Steve's room, again, and he's meant to be redressing Steve's leg. Instead, he's sitting on the edge of Steve's bed, Steve's hand on his hip and trying very hard not to give in to the urge to swing his leg over Steve's body and kiss him silly.
"Steve," Bucky sighs fondly, and Steve pouts a bit more. "I've got other patients I need to see."
"You're not the only nurse on shift, right?" Steve says, batting those big, blue eyes and seriously testing Bucky's professional ability. "Can't you keep me company? Just for a little bit?"
Bucky rolls his eyes as he carefully cleans out the gash on Steve's thigh. Steve had, apparently, tried to go to the bathroom by himself last night, causing his almost-healed wound to reopen. That's probably why he's so shameless now, Bucky thinks. Banner must have given him a bit more morphine than usual.
"Steve, you're high," Bucky reminds him. "And I'm at work."
"I'm not high," Steve says, looking affronted.
"Really?" Bucky deadpans. "Why are your pupils so big, then?"
"Don't you know that someone's pupils dilate when they're looking at something they love?" Steve croons. Bucky has to focus especially hard on Steve's leg to hide his blush.
"Oh yeah, you're completely sober. How's your leg feeling?"
"Achy," Steve mumbles. "Can you kiss it better, pretty eyes?"
"I am not putting my lips anywhere near your giant, festering wound, Steve, Jesus," Bucky sighs. When he looks up, Steve's pouting even more. "It wouldn't hurt this bad if you hadn't been an idiot and gotten out of bed, y'know."
"You're being mean, Buck," Steve whines. "This is abuse. Domestic abuse."
Bucky can't help but laugh at that, finishing up with the cleaning and grabbing a fresh set of bandages. "Sure thing, honey. Now stay still so I can get this all wrapped up again." Steve's suspiciously quiet, then, and when Bucky looks up warily he sees the sappy grin on Steve's face. "What's with that face?"
"You called me honey," Steve says happily. Bucky immediately looks back down at what he's meant to be doing, cursing internally. God, he really needs to learn when to keep his mouth shut.
They spend the next few minutes in silence as Bucky finishes wrapping Steve's leg, with Bucky trying to desperately will away his blush and Steve staring at him with a besotted smile on his face. When Bucky's all finished, he gives Steve's uninjured leg a pat and stands up, busying himself with cleaning up.
"Anything else you need while I'm here?" Bucky asks when he's disposed of the dirty bandages and his gloves. Steve pouts up at him and reaches out with grabby hands.
"A kiss?"
"Try again," Bucky replies, trying hard not to laugh. Steve lets out an exaggerated sigh and collapses against his pillows.
"Please? I've been good."
"You absolutely have not been good," Bucky chuckles. "You're a menace, is what you are."
Steve bites his lip at that, looking up at Bucky through his eyelashes. "Yeah? You gonna punish me?"
"Steve," Bucky laughs. "If you don't need anything, I need to go. I have other, less annoying patients I need to see."
Steve huffs. "Fine. Can you fluff up my pillows, please?"
Bucky rolls his eyes but dutifully crosses the room, helping Steve sit up full so he can fluff up the pillows. Once Steve's all settled again, Bucky can't help but run his fingers through the hair that flops onto Steve's forehead.
"You good now?" Bucky asks softly. Steve just smiles lazily up at him with slightly unfocused eyes, reaching up to wrap his fingers around Bucky's wrist.
"I'm always good when you're here," Steve says. Bucky's breath catches in his throat, and Steve brushes his lips over the delicate skin of Bucky's inner wrist. "You sure you can't stay?"
"I'm sure," Bucky says breathlessly. "I-I'll come and check up on you later, okay?"
"You gonna give me my kiss then?" Steve murmurs. He kisses Bucky's palm, this time, and fuck, Bucky should really pull away because this is not at all professional, and he could definitely be suspended because of this, but Steve's looking up at him with those big, blue eyes and all Bucky wants to do is sit on his lap and kiss him for all he's worth.
"Steve," Bucky says helplessly. Steve doesn't answer, just curls Bucky's hand into a loose fist and kisses his knuckles once, twice. The brush of his stubble against Bucky's skin is electric. When he's kissed his way across Bucky's knuckles Steve turns his hand over again, pressing the palm to his cheek.
And Bucky's going to be suspended, maybe even fired, if someone finds out about this, if someone watches the video tape from the camera that's pointed right at them, but Bucky can't help himself, can't help stepping forward and brushing his lips ever so gently across Steve's forehead. When he pulls away Steve's looking at him in awe, lips parted, and god, Bucky's tempted.
"I'll be back later," Bucky says shakily, and, without waiting for Steve's answer, flees from the room.
----
Turns out, Bucky does see Steve later. He's almost at the end of his break when someone raps on the nurse's station, causing him to almost spill his coffee. Biting back a curse, he looks up. Then curses out loud.
"God fucking damn it."
"Good to see you too, James," Natasha fucking Romanoff says, a smirk on her face.
Bucky can't remember the last time he saw her; she may be the best rehabilitation physiotherapist the hospital has, but that doesn't mean he's comfortable around her. It's definitely not helped by the fact that she was the one to help him when he'd lost his arm. She's also cold as ice, and has not once shown any meaningful emotion in the several years he's known her. She, honestly, terrifies him a bit - and not in a good way.
"Romanoff," Bucky sighs. "Which poor sucker are you taking today? And why are you here, and not with them?"
"Because I need a nurse with me for this one," Romanoff says bluntly. "And you're the first one I saw."
"Fine," Bucky mumbles. He downs his coffee in one and stands up, dusting the crumbs off his scrubs. "Which patient?"
"Room 107, Steven Rogers," Romanoff replies easily, falling into step beside him. Bucky bites back a curse; of course it's Steve. Spending time with Steve - the man he'd kissed on shift not three hours ago - while Romanoff's around isn't going to be fun. "You know him?"
"Yeah," Bucky says easily, trying to remain casual. "Army Captain, came in with a shrapnel wound. He opened it up again last night - when I checked on him this morning, he'd been given extra morphine."
"Hopefully it's worn off a bit by now," Romanoff murmurs. "I prefer my patients to be present when working on them."
"You're sadistic," Bucky grumbles, and Romanoff grins at him.
"Perhaps."
The rest of the walk to Steve's room is quiet, and by the time Bucky's knocking on the door, he's calmed himself down enough to at least be professional about this. Steve brightens up immediately when Bucky walks into the room, but then his eyes catch on Romanoff and his smile falters a bit - not much, but just enough for Bucky to notice.
"Hey, Buck," Steve says, and Bucky can't help the fond smile on his face.
"Captain Rogers," he replies smartly, and Steve grins at him. "How're you feeling? You were a bit out of sorts when I saw you last."
When Steve pressed kisses to his hand and wrist. When he brushed his lips across Steve's forehead. When Steve asked him to stay, to keep him company, to kiss him properly.
"A lot more sober, definitely," Steve says. He doesn't take his eyes off Bucky.
Bucky clears his throat, hyperaware of Romanoff standing behind him. "Steve, this is Natasha Romanoff; she's the head physiotherapist here at MSM."
Romanoff steps forward, then, and Steve looks away from Bucky almost reluctantly to smile at her. "Nice to meet you."
"You too," Romanoff says, giving him a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. Then again, Bucky thinks, not many of Romanoff's smiles reach her eyes. "Captain, I'm here to take you to your first physio appointment with me. You're a few weeks out of surgery now, and even though you had a bit of an accident last night, you still need to get the rest of your body moving a bit."
Steve looks a bit unsure, his eyes flicking to Bucky before he looks back at Romanoff. "Will Bucky be coming?"
"James will be helping escort you to and from the exercise room," Romanoff replies. "Unless you want me to grab one of the other nurses currently on duty; I saw Riley and Claire on our way up here -"
"No!" Steve says quickly, then flushes when Romanoff raises an eyebrow at him. "No, uh, that's okay, doc."
Natasha looks over at Bucky, her eyes far too knowing. "James, could you grab a wheelchair?" Bucky just nods, sends a reassuring smile in Steve's direction, and starts making his way down to the wheelchair bay. Why they didn't stop there on their way up, Bucky has no idea.
It doesn't take him long to get a wheelchair and get back to Steve's room, and when he walks back in he sees Steve sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning back slightly. Romanoff's between his legs, her hands pressing just above his bandages and her brow furrowed in concentration, and Bucky almost stumbles from the wave of possessiveness that comes over him. Romanoff's small hands are so close to Steve's crotch, and she's tucked herself so close to his body - too close, Bucky's brain keeps thinking, and he has to take a deep breath to calm himself down a bit.
"How's your leg feel now?" Bucky asks, pushing the wheelchair close to the bed. Steve jumps and looks over at him a bit guiltily, and that doesn't help the pit in Bucky's stomach.
"Not great," Steve says quietly. "Sore."
"No wonder," Romanoff says, almost to herself. "Reopening a wound is never pleasant. But we've gotta get you moving, at least a little bit, otherwise it'll be a hell of a lot harder for you to recover."
She moves out from between Steve's legs, and Bucky immediately relaxes a bit. It doesn't go unnoticed by Steve, who raises an eyebrow at him. Bucky can't help but blush.
"Let's get you into the chair," Bucky says hurriedly. With a bit of manoeuvring, he and Romanoff manage to lift Steve from the bed into the wheelchair, and Bucky tries not to focus on the way Steve's arm fits around his shoulders, how his body feels under Bucky's hands.
The trip to the PT room is quiet, and Steve's stiff in the wheelchair, shifting every so often and clenching his hands on the armrests. Bucky desperately wants to slide his arms around Steve's shoulders, to press a kiss to that fluffy blond hair, but Romanoff's not two feet away, so he just settles for letting his fingers brush against Steve's back as he pushes the wheelchair down the hallway.
When they get to the PT room he and Romanoff transfer Steve to a bench, before Romanoff gracefully excuses herself to get things set up and to grab a few things from her office. Bucky can't help but be grateful to her for that.
"How are you feeling?" Bucky asks quietly. He lets his fingers curl through Steve's hair, and Steve leans into his side, pressing his nose into Bucky's stomach.
"Nervous," Steve mumbles. "This is going to hurt, isn't it?"
Bucky doesn't even consider lying to him. "Yeah, it will. But more often than not, getting better is a lot more painful than getting hurt."
"I know," Steve sighs. One large hand brushes against Bucky's leg. "I didn't... I didn't make you uncomfortable, this morning? I didn't push you too far?"
Bucky swallows, lets his free hand come up to cradle the back of Steve's neck. "I should be asking you that question."
"I regret you not kissing me properly," Steve replies.
"I can't do that, Steve," Bucky sighs. "I'm not permitted to have... Relations, with my patients. It could get me suspended, or fired, if I'm caught with you."
Steve's quiet, but his hand comes up to lightly grasp the back of Bucky's thigh.
"What if you weren't my nurse? What if I was looked after by someone else?"
Bucky swallows through the lump in his throat. He really doesn't want to stop being Steve's nurse. "You're still a patient of this hospital, and you will be up until you're discharged."
Steve groans. "So I have to wait until I'm out to kiss you?"
"Afraid so," Bucky hums in reply, tugging lightly on a lock of Steve's hair. Steve looks up at him, his eyes glinting.
"As soon as I'm discharged," he declares, "I'm gonna sweep you off your feet, and ask you out."
"Is that so?" Bucky asks, amused despite himself. "Well, you'll be waiting a while. You're not scheduled to leave for another month, at least."
"I can wait," Steve says confidently. "If it's for you, I can wait."
And fuck, Bucky's gone for this guy. He pats Steve on the head one more time before pulling away.
Romanoff comes back a few minutes later, holding a notepad, a pen, and a few feet of elastic rope. It shouldn't have taken her so long to retrieve them, but she looks at Bucky meaningfully when she comes in, and Bucky can't help but smile at her.
"Okay, Steve," she says once her hands are free. "We're gonna get started. James, could you come back in about forty-five minutes?"
Bucky glances at the clock and nods. "Sure thing. I'll see you then, Steve."
Steve gives him a smile, but it's a bit strained at the corners. Bucky, reluctantly, leaves.
The next forty-five minutes are far too slow for Bucky's liking. He keeps himself busy, collecting empty lunch trays for the kitchen and then, when that's done, doing some admin at the nurse's station. Riley and Claire are both on shift with him, and he sees them every so often, flitting through the halls. It's hard to concentrate, but by the time forty minutes are up Bucky's at least completed a bit of work. He quickly finishes up, and soon enough he's hurrying through the halls back towards the PT room.
Steve's lying on his back on the floor, his face red and gown soaked through with sweat. He's got his injured leg raised about half a foot off the ground, and Romanoff's got her hands on his calf, holding him up. He looks like he's about to pass out, and Romanoff's murmuring quiet encouragement to him. As much as Bucky wants to rush over, to get Romanoff to stop, to take Steve's face in his hands and wipe the sweat and tears from his cheeks, he stays by the door, watching quietly.
Soon enough Romanoff lowers Steve's leg to the ground, and when she finally lets go Steve lets out a relieved half-sob, his head falling back.
"You did really well," Romanoff says softly. "I know that was hard, but it's all over now. Do you wanna get back in the wheelchair, or just wait a couple of minutes?"
"Give me some time, please," Steve wheezes. Romanoff nods and stands up, but not before giving Steve's ankle a soft squeeze.
"I'll just be at the door, okay? Just speak up when you're ready to go back," she says. When Steve nods, she walks over to where Bucky's standing, leaning against the wall in front of him.
"How'd he do?" Bucky asks quietly.
"He'd have done a lot better if he hadn't reopened that damn hole in his leg," she mutters. "He's in a lot of pain, but I think we made some good progress. He just needs a wipe-down, some morphine and a nap."
"You written up the report yet?"
"Not yet - I'll get onto it once I'm back in my office. I'll have it uploaded to the system within the next couple of hours."
Bucky nods, lets his eyes slide off Romanoff's face to the trembling body on the exercise mats. Steve's breathing has evened out a bit, and the trembling in his hands has lessened.
"James," Romanoff says, and when he looks back at her, her eyes are serious. "You know the rules. About patient-staff relationships."
"I know," Bucky replies quietly. "I'm not... I'm not doing anything. With him."
Not for lack of trying on Steve's part.
"Just... Be careful," Romanoff says carefully. "You're a good nurse. I don't want you gone over something like this."
Bucky looks at her in surprise. "Didn't know you cared, Romanoff."
She huffs out a laugh. "I care about my career, about having competent colleagues. You, shockingly, are competent."
That's probably the highest compliment Romanoff could possibly give someone. Bucky smiles slightly. "Well, thanks."
"You should check on him," is all Romanoff says in reply.
Bucky crosses the room quietly and kneels down at Steve's side, reaching out to press his hand to Steve's shoulder.
"Hey," Bucky says quietly. "You ready to get going?"
Steve opens his eyes with some difficulty, and Bucky's heart almost breaks to see the pain in them. "Hey, Buck. How're you doing?"
"Should be asking you that question," Bucky replies, sliding an arm under Steve's back. "Let's get you back up in that wheelchair, yeah?"
Steve's dead weight in his arms, and Romanoff hurries over to help Bucky lift him up into the wheelchair. Steve whimpers when they accidentally jostle him, and Bucky's heart breaks.
"It was nice to meet you today, Captain Rogers," Romanoff says, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder. "I'll be back to see you again in a few days."
Steve just nods, his head lolling back against the headrest. Romanoff shoots Bucky a look that he can't decipher, before she's gathering her stuff and walking out, her heels clicking on the linoleum floor.
The trip back to Steve's room takes about five minutes, and by the time they get there Steve's face is twisted up in pain again. Bucky closes the door behind them, to give them some privacy, and moves to kneel in front of Steve.
"You're pretty sweaty," Bucky says softly. "How about we get you wiped down before a nap?"
Steve takes a shaky breath in, his eyes glistening with tears. "Hurts, Buck."
"I know," Bucky murmurs. "But you'll feel better if you're clean. Then we'll get you some more morphine, and you'll be feeling a lot better, okay?"
Steve nods, his eyes shutting again. Bucky moves as quickly and carefully as he can, pushing Steve into the bathroom and getting him out of the wheelchair and onto the shower stool. Steve's wearing a T-shirt and boxers under his hospital gown; it's relatively easy to get the gown and shirt off, but Bucky ends up cutting off his boxers. Pulling them off would jostle Steve around too much, and they're hospital property, anyway.
Bucky quickly fills up the bucket in the shower stall with water, and squirts a bit of body wash in there too. Steve looks half-unconscious, and Bucky tries to be as quick as he can, sponging Steve's body down and getting rid of the sweat. Soon enough he's dried Steve off and managed to get him into a fresh hospital gown, and Steve's lucid enough to help Bucky get him into the wheelchair again.
"Okay, Stevie," Bucky says, parking the wheelchair beside the bed. "Let's get you nice and comfortable, and I'll get you on some morphine, okay?"
Steve nods drowsily and wraps his arms around Bucky's neck, letting Bucky haul him out of the wheelchair and onto the mattress. He looks so pale, his hands trembling as he pulls the blankets over his feet, and Bucky has to tear his eyes away to get the IV ready. Steve hasn't been hooked up to the drip constantly for a few days now, but it doesn't take Bucky long to insert a new needle into Steve's hand and get him on a new drip.
The instant Bucky injects the morphine into the IV Steve sighs quietly and relaxes, just a bit. Bucky sits down gingerly on the edge of the bed and reaches up to run his hand through Steve's hair. Steve reaches out blindly with the hand not attached to the drip, and Bucky lets him lace their fingers together.
"Can you stay until I fall asleep?" Steve whispers.
"Yeah, Stevie. I'll wait."
Bucky stays until long after Steve's drifted off.
----
It isn't until a few nights later that Bucky sees Steve again. It's another night shift with Bev, who cheerfully gives Bucky the military ward duties before trundling off to do rounds in geriatrics. Bucky tries not to rush through his duties, but he still finds himself done after only a few hours - with one more round to do, of course.
Steve's room is dark when he peeks his head in, the window cracked open and the curtains fluttering in the light breeze. Steve is lying on his back, his eyelashes casting long shadows across his face, his lips parted slightly in sleep.
Bucky's quiet as he enters, puttering around the room to fiddle with the thermostat, place a fresh blanket at the foot of the bed, tidy up the remains of Steve's dinner. It's only when he sits on the edge of the bed, his hand moving to brush the stray locks of hair off Steve's forehead, that Steve shifts, opening his eyes blearily.
"Buck," Steve murmurs, lifting a hand blindly. Bucky hushes him gently, catching Steve's hand and pressing it to his cheek.
"How are you feeling?" Bucky asks softly.
"Tired. Sore," Steve replies, his voice slurred from sleep. "Missed you."
Bucky swallows against the lump that forms in his throat at those words. "I missed you too."
Steve sighs, fingers stroking across Bucky's face, and Bucky can't help but turn into his hand, press a kiss to the pad of Steve's thumb.
"Tell me a story?" Steve asks. He presses his forehead against Bucky's thigh, leaning in to softly kiss his leg. Bucky can barely feel it through the scrub pants, but it sends shivers up his spine all the same.
He carts his fingers through Steve's hair and tells him stories of mythical creatures, towering beasts and star-crossed lovers until long after Steve's breaths even out.
----
When Bucky walks into Steve's room the next Monday, he's expecting Steve to be alone, or maybe with Natasha. Not once in the month he's been in this room has Steve had any visitors - but apparently that's changed, because when Bucky comes in that Monday morning there's a cute guy sitting in the chair next to Steve's bed, arms crossed lazily and legs splayed out in front of him.
Steve, as usual, brightens up significantly when he sees Bucky; perking up in his seat, eyes growing bright, a grin spreading across his face. It makes Bucky's heart do cartwheels in his chest.
"Bucky! Hey!" Steve chirps. Cute Guy's eyebrows raise, and he starts looking at Bucky with a sly grin on his face.
"Morning, trouble," Bucky replies cheerfully, tugging at a lock of Steve's hair as he passes the bed on his way to grab the chart. "What's this I hear about not listening to Natasha?"
Steve has had one more therapy session with Romanoff since the first one, and she'd told him that under no circumstances he was meant to try walking without aid. Of course, Steve hadn't listened, and had been caught half out of bed not two hours later when Romanoff had come back in to check on him. She'd told Bev, who'd been on duty, who'd told Bucky.
Steve's eyes go big and sad. "Buck, she's so mean. And I can totally walk by myself!"
"Of course you can, Stevie," Bucky croons. "But only when you don't have a massive hole in your leg."
"It's healing," Steve grumbles, but leans his head into Bucky's side. Cute Guy snorts from his seat, and Bucky can't help but smile.
"You gonna introduce me to this lovely gentleman, Steven?" Bucky asks teasingly, and Steve immediately perks up again.
"Oh yeah! Buck, this is my best friend Sam. Sam, meet Bucky."
"Hey man," Sam says easily, giving Bucky a crooked grin. It's really cute, and Bucky internally despairs at the fact he's alone in a room with two gorgeous guys and can't jump them both. "It's real good to finally meet you."
"Finally, huh?" Bucky glances over at Steve, who's stubbornly looking somewhere behind Bucky's back. "You been talking about me?"
"You're the only interesting thing that happens around here," Steve mumbles. His face is slowly turning red, and Bucky has to resist the urge to squeeze his cheeks.
"Yeah, that's definitely it," Sam snickers. "Definitely has nothing to do with -"
"Sam," Steve snaps. "Do you wanna wait outside while Bucky redoes my bandages?"
Sam's eyebrows raise, a sly grin on his face. "Sure thing, man. I'll just go, let you guys, uh, redo Steve's bandages."
Bucky feels his face heat up at that, and looks down to see Steve's cheeks bright red, too. Sam just gives them both a wink and rises from his chair, sauntering out of the room and closing the door quietly behind him.
"How've you been, Buck?"
Bucky turns back to Steve, unprepared for the softness in his eyes.
"Not bad," Bucky shrugs, fluffing up Steve's pillows - to distract himself, more than anything else. "Had a couple days off, which was nice."
Steve hums, reaching out to grasp Bucky's wrist in his hand. "Sit with me?"
Bucky ducks his head, feeling his cheeks flush. "I don't have much time."
"Just a little while," Steve insists, and his hand slides down to press against Bucky's, their fingers linking together.
There's no way Bucky can say no to that, especially not when Steve's looking at him with those big, blue eyes, so he makes himself comfortable in the chair that Sam just vacated (much to Steve's displeasure, if the indignant grumble he lets out is any indication).
"You do need to listen to Natasha, you know," Bucky says quietly. He doesn't think he can look Steve in the eyes, not after what happened the week before, so instead he focuses on their hands, twined together on the edge of the bed. "You'll heal faster if you don't keep straining yourself."
Steve sighs. "I know. I just... I hate being like this, y'know? Trapped in this stupid room, with no way to do anything without help."
"I know what you mean," Bucky murmurs. He chances a glance up to see Steve looking at him, a mixture of sadness and fondness etched across his face.
"Yeah, you do," Steve says quietly.
They sit in silence for a little while, Steve's thumb tracing circles into Bucky's hand, leaving tingles in its wake. It's peaceful, the only thing disrupting the calm being the tension rippling the air between the two of them.
"I ever tell you about being a kid?" Steve asks suddenly.
"Tell me," Bucky says, half-entranced by the movement of Steve's lips. Steve smiles, a quick quirk of his lips that makes Bucky think he knows exactly what's going on in Bucky's head.
"I was this sick, frail little thing. Went to the hospital probably at least once a year, especially when there was a cold winter. Lot of my doctors thought I wasn't going to make it to thirty."
Bucky's throat closes up, and he chuckles to try and dispel it. "No wonder you don't like staying in bed."
Steve laughs too, a quick, amused huff of breath. "No kidding. My pa died when I was a baby, and my ma had to look after me by herself. She was a nurse; moved to America a decade or so before I was born from Ireland to look for better work. We didn't have much, and a lot of the time she went hungry so she could afford my medications, or pay for my hospital bills.
"The only thing that got me through those hospital stays would be her. Her and the other nurses, who'd comfort me when I cried and brought me toys to play with throughout the day." He pauses for a second. "I wanted to be a nurse, too, for a while. To help people the way they helped me."
"What happened?" Bucky asks softly. "You're not sick anymore, are you?"
"No, I'm not," Steve chuckles. "Combination of a few things - puberty hit me like a truck, for one. I had surgery to cure my scoliosis, got put on this round of meds designed by some doctor from Germany to help with autoimmune disorders. I still have my asthma, and I still get sick a bit easier than a regular person, but I could... live."
"And your ma?"
Steve goes quiet, his head bowed so that Bucky couldn't see his expression. "She passed. Nine years ago now. Cancer."
"I'm sorry," Bucky murmurs. Steve looks up at him, a sad smile on his face.
"It's okay. It was a long time ago."
"Why didn't you become a nurse?"
"Ma's hospital bills were expensive. I was... Fuck, nineteen? Nursing school cost money - more than we had - and I was working three jobs just to keep on top of the hospital bills. Saw an ad about the military - paid a hell of a lot more than bussing tables and cleaning toilets. So I joined up. Made enough money to send back home for Ma, but... There was nothing else the doctors could do." Steve took a shaky breath. "After she died, I couldn't bear the thought of going back. So I stayed in the army."
Bucky looks at him; looks at this beautiful, sad man, and thinks I might be in love with him.
He says, "When I was twenty-one, I was diagnosed with stage two osteosarcoma."
Steve looks up at him, then glances at his left arm. "Is that..."
Bucky nods, taking a deep breath. "I was halfway through my nursing course, doing placement at a clinic in Bushwick. I'd been in pain for a few weeks, and one day one of the doctors took a look at me and told me to get my arm checked out. When the results came back, it showed almost my entire radius was tumorous.
"I don't know how it managed to spread so fast, but soon the lower part of my humerus was infected, too. The cancer was in danger of spreading further. The doctors had no choice but to take the whole arm off."
"Bucky..." Steve sounds so sad, and Bucky squeezes his hand again.
"It's okay. I got picked as a candidate for a prosthetics program, sponsored by Stark Industries. Got fitted with this a few months after the surgery. Took a little while, but I managed to graduate. I've had this arm for about six years now - works just as well as the original."
Steve traces his fingers over the plates of the arm, then, before Bucky can do anything, lifts Bucky's left hand and presses a kiss to the palm.
"Thank you for telling me," Steve says.
I'm in love with you,, Bucky doesn't say. Instead, he just tightens his grip on Steve's hand and blinks back the stinging in his eyes.
They're quiet for a bit longer, until Sam comes back into the room, a smug look on his face that turns gleeful when he notices Steve and Bucky's hands twined together on the edge of the bed.
"You two look cosy," he teases as both Steve and Bucky jump and snatch their hands back.
"Shut up, Sam," Steve says, without heat.
"I should get back," Bucky says, standing up. "Sam, good to meet you. I'll see you later, Steve?"
Steve's expression turns soft. "Sure thing, pretty eyes. I'll see you later."
"I'll walk you out," Sam says cheerfully, winking at Steve before clapping Bucky on the shoulder and guiding him out of the room. Bucky can't help but glance over his shoulder one more time. Steve smiles at him, lifting his hand in an almost shy wave, and Bucky's heart almost beats out of his chest.
Riley's out in the corridor when Bucky and Sam exit, fiddling with a cart and looking suspiciously pink. Next to him, Sam immediately straightens up, and when Bucky glances over at him, he's smirking in Riley's direction.
"Riley," Sam greets as he reaches them. Riley, impossibly, turns even redder.
"Lieutenant Wilson," Riley replies. He turns his head to watch Sam walk past, and Bucky catches sight of several purple marks on his neck.
No way.
There's probably a massive smirk on Bucky's face, judging from the furious glare Riley shoots at him and the grin that Sam gives them both before he's walking back down the corridor, whistling quietly to himself. Bucky gleefully watches the way Riley stares after him until Sam's turned the corner and out of sight.
"So," Bucky says, his eyebrows raised. Riley shrugs, his face pink.
"Sam - uh, Lieutenant Wilson has been over to visit Captain Rogers a few times now," he says casually.
"Oh, really?" Bucky asks, grinning. "You and Lieutenant Wilson get to know each other at all?"
Riley's face turns redder. "No, Bucky, jeez. We chatted for a bit when I changed Steve's bandages, and since my break was right after that we grabbed wraps from the cafeteria together. "
"And what's that on your neck?" Bucky asks slyly. Riley squeaks quietly and slaps his hand to his neck.
"Uh, I... I tripped?"
"Onto Lieutenant Wilson's lips?"
Riley hushes him frantically. "Okay, fine, he might have found me when I was restocking the bandages in the cupboard."
"Riley," Bucky says, delighted. "You made out with a government official in a closet?"
"He's Air Force, not CIA," Riley complains. "See if I tell you anything else now, when you're making fun of me."
"Aw, Riles, no," Bucky croons. "I'm here for you, you can tell me about the filthy closet sex you just had with an officer of the armed forces -"
Riley shoves him into the wall.
----
Time passes both too quickly and not fast enough. Steve, by some miracle, doesn't open his wound up again, and every time Bucky sees him he seems brighter, healthier. Bucky doesn't know whether to be happy about that or scared.
Natasha seems pleased by Steve's progress too - so much so that she's cleared him for short walks around the hospital; supervised by a nurse, of course. Bucky usually finds himself accompanying Steve on these walks, often going down to the courtyard and sitting in the garden, despite the chill in the air.
Almost a month after that first PT session, on a dreary Wednesday morning, Bucky walks into Steve's room to find him sitting up in bed, waiting for him.
"They're discharging me tomorrow," Steve says, and Bucky's steps falter.
"Tomorrow?" Bucky asks. He feels a smile start to take over his face, and when Steve nods, he can't stop himself from crossing the room to fling his arms around Steve's neck. "Steve, that's amazing! I - God, have you got a place in the city? Are you gonna stay with someone? I know a few people that could give you a place to stay for a while, if you need -"
"Bucky," Steve interrupts, and Bucky pulls back. Steve doesn't look excited; he looks sad.
"What is it? Aren't you happy?"
Steve takes a deep breath. "Buck, I'm going back over."
It takes a couple of seconds for Bucky to understand, but when he does he jerks back, his stomach sinking so rapidly he feels sick.
"To Afghanistan? Steve, are you serious?"
Steve's jaw is set, that stubborn look on his face that Bucky's grown to hate and love in equal measure. "My men are still out there, Buck. They need me."
"Fuck that, and fuck your martyr complex," Bucky spits out. "Steve, you're not fit to go back to active duty - you can barely stand on your own for more than ten minutes!"
"I wouldn't be going straight back out," Steve protests weakly. "I'll still have more rehab to do; but I'll be able to do my job, even if it's from behind a desk."
Bucky's throat feels tight. His hands, where they're resting on Steve's bedspread, shake. "What if something happens?"
"It won't," Steve says, and his hands cover Bucky's, warm and comforting. "I'll be back before you know it, Buck - I'm taking you out on that date, no matter what happens. I promised, didn't I?"
Bucky blinks back tears, and slips his hands from Steve's grasp. "I... I need to do my rounds."
He can't help but glance at Steve's face, then quickly regrets it; Steve looks devastated.
"Buck, wait -"
"I'll see you later, Steve," Bucky says. When he leaves the room, he doesn't look back.
Sharon finds him a few hours later, furiously shoving dirty sheets into the laundry.
"Bucky? What's going on?"
She sounds concerned, and that's almost enough to give him pause; Sharon never sounds concerned.
"You hear about Steve?" he asks instead, slamming the washing machine door shut a bit harder than necessary. He chances a glance at Sharon; she's leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes look sad.
"Yeah," she says.
"And you don't think it's a bad idea?"
"What I think doesn't matter. It's out of my hands; out of Steve's, too. He's been ordered back over there; there's nothing he can do."
Bucky takes a deep breath in, resisting the urge to kick something. "He isn't fully healed yet."
"I know."
"He could get hurt."
"I know." Sharon sounds so, so sad.
Bucky's legs suddenly feel weak; he sits down heavily on a pile of unfolded laundry.
"I'm scared, Shar," he whispers. His voice cracks. "I... I can't lose him."
"Oh, honey," Sharon says. Bucky doesn't hear her cross the room, but he leans into her when she wraps her arms around him.
----
When it came to the end of his shift at eight in the evening, Bucky doesn't go home. Instead, he walks around the city for a little while, scuffing his shoes on the pavement as he goes. He grabs a slice of pizza even though he's not hungry. He bums a cigarette from a man outside a bar even though he hasn't smoked in years.
He finds himself back at the hospital at around ten, and despite knowing it's a bad idea, he goes inside.
He doesn't run into anyone in the hallways. It's quiet, save for the mumblings of sleeping patients. He catches sight of Bev trundling along with her cart, but if she sees him, she doesn't say a word.
It doesn't take him long to reach Steve's room. When he peeks his head inside Steve's lying down, eyes open and staring at the ceiling. He's got headphones in, and even from the door, Bucky can hear the tinny notes of music. He doesn't notice Bucky until he's next to the bed, when he shoots upright, hands outstretched like he wants to pull Bucky in, but doesn't know if it would be welcomed. Bucky just kicks his shoes off, throws his jacket in the general direction of the visitor's chair, and crawls into Steve's lap, resting his forehead on Steve's shoulder.
His breaths are loud and shallow in the quiet room, and when Steve's arms wrap around his back and pull him closer he lets out a sob, tucking his face into the crook of Steve's neck. Steve's voice is soothing in his ear, his lips pressing kisses to the side of Bucky's head.
At some point, Steve moves them onto their sides on the bed. It's a bit too small to fit both of them comfortably, and there are lumps in the mattress and the pillow, but there's nothing that could make Bucky want to move.
"How long will you be over there for?" Bucky asks in a whisper. His tears have left a wet patch on Steve's shirt.
"I don't know," Steve murmurs. Bucky shuffles closer, his hands tightening on Steve's shirt.
"You come back to me, understand?" Bucky says fiercely. He feels like he'd cry more, if he had any tears left.
"I'll always come back to you, Buck," Steve whispers back, and Bucky squeezes his eyes shut and holds him tighter.
----
Bev finds them a few hours later, curled up together like parentheses. Steve's still asleep when Bucky slides out of his grasp, but he can't help but press a kiss to Steve's cheek before he goes.
"Take a few days off, honey," Bev says gently when they've left the room. "I can tell management you've come down with the flu."
Bucky just nods, before walking away from Steve's room, back through the hospital until he's breathing fresh, crisp air. He barely remembers catching a taxi, or the trip back to his apartment. Alpine meows indignantly when he gets home; he forgot to feed her dinner last night. He tops up her dry food and gives her two pouches of wet food to make up for it.
Then he crawls into bed and pulls the covers over his head.
----
Life doesn't stop for anyone, so after Bucky's spent his few days off huddled on his couch with Alpine, watching Studio Ghibli and trying not to cry, he shoves all his Steve-related feelings into a nice, small box, which he then superglues shut and shoves into the deepest corner of his mind, where he doesn't have to look at it. He goes to work, he looks after his patients, he cooks when he has the time and the energy, and he buys a new cat tree for Alpine because her old one is falling apart and he wants to spoil her a bit.
He hangs out with his co-workers after work and on days off; Sharon's got something going on with Maria (which no one is surprised about), and more often than not Riley is flushed and bright-eyed (which apparently has nothing to do with Sam fucking Wilson staying with him for his annual leave).
Before he knows it, it's been close to six months since Steve left, and Bucky's fine.
Really, he is.
----
(He definitely didn't ask Riley if Sam was in contact with Steve, when Sam went back in the field and Riley was on his phone all hours of the day.
"He doesn't know," Riley admitted. "They don't work together often, and Steve's special forces - whatever he's doing, it's classified to hell and back." He'd looked at Bucky then, his hazel eyes wide and sad. "I'm sorry, Bucky. I wish I knew."
Bucky had laughed it off, casually excused himself from the conversation, then locked himself in a storage closet and sobbed, praying that Steve was still alive.)
----
The nurse's station is full of chatter when Bucky gets to work one day in April, almost eight months since that night in room 107. It's early as hell, but Riley's standing at the station gesturing him over with an extra Starbucks cup in hand, so Bucky takes a deep breath and goes over, barely saying hello before he's taking a long drink from the cup Riley passes over.
"What's got you all so excited?" Bucky mumbles as soon as he's surfaced for air from the coffee. "It's too early for this."
"There was a big, blonde guy chatting up Peter yesterday," Maria says immediately. Peter, the new nursing student, burrows deeper into his seat, cheeks blazing red.
"He wasn't chatting me up," Peter mumbles. "He was just... Really pretty. And big."
Bucky steadfastly ignores Riley and Sharon's side-eyes and takes another drink. "Was he harassing you?"
"No!" Peter yelps. "No, he was just asking about who still works here - said he was an inpatient a little while ago and wanted to say hi to the nurses who took care of him."
"What was his name?" Riley asks, and Peter looks sheepish.
"He didn't say - and I was a bit distracted to ask."
There's a strange feeling in Bucky's stomach; a weird mixture of nausea and hope and terror. He sets his cup down on the nurse's station, suddenly not wanting it anymore.
"I've gotta do my rounds," Bucky mumbles.
"Wait, Bucky - " Sharon starts, but Bucky's already turned away and hurrying down the hall.
It's not Steve, Bucky knows that. Big, blonde guys are a dime a dozen in the city, and Bucky's long past the time when a pair of broad shoulders and sunshine hair on the street makes his knees weak. If it was Steve, he would have said something. Would have asked for Bucky by name.
If he still felt the same way Bucky does.
It's been a long time, Bucky knows that. Most of their time together, Steve was out of his mind with morphine and pain. Bucky wouldn't be surprised if Steve does come back, he wouldn't want Bucky the way that he said he did when he was in that hospital bed.
It doesn't matter anyway, Bucky tells himself. Steve's still in Afghanistan, he probably isn't coming back for Bucky, and gossip about some hot guy flirting with nursing students is not going to ruin Bucky's carefully-curated mental stability.
It's not.
----
Bucky's shift seems to go on forever, despite it only being eight hours today, and by the time three o'clock rolls around he's dead on his feet. He's successfully managed to evade both Sharon and Riley and their concerned faces, and he's more than ready to go home, cuddle with Alpine, and order pizza for dinner. However, as he's stuffing his dirty scrubs in his backpack and yanking a hoodie on, Maria walks into the room.
"Oh good, you haven't left yet," she says, sounding almost relieved. "Could you drop by the nurse's station on your way out?"
Bucky raises an eyebrow at her, hefting the backpack onto his shoulder. "Why?"
Maria shrugs. "Don't ask me - something about a patient?"
Bucky tries not to groan; all he really wants to do is get out of here, but he nods anyway. "Okay, I'll go now. Thanks."
Maria does a little half-salute as she leaves, and Bucky lets himself let out a breath. It's probably something small; he'll be out of here in ten minutes at the most. Tucking his phone into his jeans pocket, he makes the short trek from the changing room to the main nurse's station.
There's already someone there, leaning against the desk and chatting away with Riley, who looks far too excited for this time of day. The guy's wearing jeans and a brown leather jacket that stretches across his broad shoulders so tightly it looks like it's about to tear, and he towers over Riley's five-ten frame, even though he's not standing upright. His short hair's the colour of corn silk, his skin tanned and golden, and there's a bouquet of red roses in his hand.
Bucky's heart stops.
Riley catches sight of him and beams, waving him over, but Bucky's feet won't move. His body feels frozen, his knees weak, his hands shaking, and when the man turns to face him, a shy smile on his beautiful face, he forgets how to breathe.
"Hey, Buck."
It's Steve.
"You fucking bastard," Bucky breathes out, then he can move again, and he shrugs the backpack off and closes the space between him and Steve with long strides, and Steve's moving towards him and opening his arms, and their bodies collide with such force Bucky's teeth rattle and the breath is knocked from his lungs. Steve's arms are tight around him, the flowers still clenched in one of his massive hands, and the petals tickle the sensitive skin of Bucky's neck between his hairline and hoodie.
The next breath Bucky lets out sounds more like a sob than an exhale, and one big, calloused hand cradles his jaw, moving him away just enough to see Steve's face. He's more tanned than he was the last time Bucky saw him, sickeningly pale and gaunt in his hospital gown - bigger, too; standing to his full height he's half a head taller than Bucky and probably twice as wide. But those cornflower-blue eyes, those pink, soft lips, that shy half-smile - those haven't changed.
"You're here," Steve whispers, and that makes the tears gathering at the corners of Bucky's eyes spill over. He reaches a shaky hand out to touch Steve's cheek, and stubble grazes against his palm.
"You're alive," Bucky croaks out, and Steve's lips quirk upwards, his thumb settling in the dimple of Bucky's chin.
"Told you I'd come back to you, didn't I?"
Bucky laughs wetly, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "Can't blame me for being a bit sceptical. It's been a long time."
Steve's face turns devastated, his fingers brushing along the damp skin under Bucky's eyes. "I'm sorry it took me so long. I needed to tie up some loose ends - but I'm not going back there. Got my honourable discharge. I'm not leaving you again."
Bucky can't help himself then - he lurches forward to kiss Steve, his lips landing awkwardly at the edge of Steve's mouth, but then they're slotting together like their lips were made to fit into one another and it's perfect.
"Come home with me," Bucky pleads once they've surfaced for air. "We don't have to do anything, we can just sit on the couch, but I - fuck, Steve, if I have to let go of you for one second I'll die, I'll -"
"Shh, hey, it's okay," Steve whispers, his mouth brushing against Bucky's lips, his nose, his cheek, his chin. "I'm not going anywhere without you, sweetheart, not for one second. I got my bike - just tell me your address, we'll go there right now."
It's torture to step out of Steve's arms, but they're still at the hospital, and while Riley's made himself scarce, there are still patients and visitors around, and really, the sooner they leave, the sooner Bucky can get Steve's body pressed against his again.
The flowers Steve's holding look a little squashed, and Steve's cheeks flush pink when he glances at them.
"I got them for you, from the flower shop downstairs," he mumbles. "I, uh, didn't think about how they'd go on the bike."
Bucky's chest feels light, his stomach like it's full of bubbles. He wouldn't have been able to stop the smile that feels like it splits his face in half. "You didn't need to get me flowers."
Steve shrugs, his face growing redder. "You deserve everything, Buck. Of course I'm gonna get you flowers."
And god, it's almost impossible to stay upright, to not press Steve against the wall and kiss him until they ran out of air. Bucky just bends down to pick up his backpack, grabs Steve by the hand, and yanks him towards the exit.
"You can buy me more some other time. Right now, I just want you."
Steve's grip tightens, and he presses himself to Bucky's body, a solid line of heat against Bucky's side.
"You've got me," Steve says, and when Bucky looks up at him he's smiling, eyes soft and warm and so full of emotion that Bucky's blinking back tears. "For as long as you want me."
I love you, Bucky thinks. Wordlessly, he squeezes Steve's hand and lets himself be led out of the hospital.