→ i know we'll make it anywhere away from here

[yourbestguysgun]

[ His device switches on, a big, black nose snuffling at the camera for a moment. There's a growl, and a yip of excitement before Bucky's voice can be heard, sounding far more hoarse and stuffed up than usual. ]

Crepe. As much as I'd like y'to destroy the damn thing, it isn't food and - [ Okay then, having to stop to sneeze six times in a row isn't good, he should have realised when he started to feel off last night. ] Damnit.

[ Bucky's footfalls are heavy as they cross his bedroom, the snuffling dog thumping her tail against the floor and licking Bucky's wrist as he reaches to pick up the device. The camera pans to the dog, Bucky ruffling the fur on the top of her head. ] Good girl. Now c'mon, back to bed.

[ It's 11am. Neither Bucky nor the dog seem to care. Crepe bounces off, jumps on to the empty, rumpled bed, and Bucky's sigh turns weary before he cuts the feed off. ]

Comments

[yourbestguysgun]

You're tellin' me.

[ Fine. Bucky's just going to drape against you now. Take that. Mostly because his head hurts and Steve's shoulder is the best place for it. ]

Y'warm.

[punchedhitler]

You've got a rising fever, that's why you feel cold.

[He knows he shouldn't but he can't help it, he remembers how miserable he had been when he was cold. He maneuvers himself so he has one arm around Bucky and his best friend is leaning mostly on his chest]

[yourbestguysgun]

Feels different.

[ Bucky hums a little. ] You're supposed to be the one I take care of, okay? Opposite land ain't fun.

[punchedhitler]

I owe you. You used to do this for me all the time.

[yourbestguysgun]

No y'don't. Would'a done it anyway.

[punchedhitler]

You must really feel bad.

[You're being slightly sentimental]

[yourbestguysgun]

I'd feel better if I could get my best friend to kill me. Then I'd be swell.

[punchedhitler]

I'm not going to kill you.

You're not that sick.

[yourbestguysgun]

Crepe can jus' smother me then, we'll be fine.

[punchedhitler]

She wouldn't she loves you too much.

[Steve is rubbing the base of Bucky's back now]

[yourbestguysgun]

[ Well, okay. Steve can stay, because that feels good. ]

What's with all this love, huh? I just want someone to take me out.

[punchedhitler]

You need Dugan for that. He would oblige.

[yourbestguysgun]

Oh jeez. He'd be so friggin' gleeful about it too.

[punchedhitler]

He would. I don't know if I approve.

[yourbestguysgun]

We promise not to kill each other.

[punchedhitler]

Some days I'm amazed you all made it through Basic.

[yourbestguysgun]

By the skin of our teeth.

[ He's sick, okay? That allows this half sprawl thing he's got going on, nudging Steve's shoulder with his cheek and letting out a breath. ]

[punchedhitler]

[Steve doesn't mind. He keeps rubbing Bucky's back]

Well, I needed you crazy jerks to get through what we did.

[yourbestguysgun]

[ If he were a cat, he'd be purring. As it is, he just lets his breathing deepen like Steve's hand is slowly helping him relax. ]

Yeah, you'd be lost without us.

[punchedhitler]

[Steve is just as relaxed]

Probably.

[yourbestguysgun]

Totally.

[ Bucky's supposed to be stronger than this, not some boneless, sleepy heap. Tomorrow he'll have to man up. Tomorrow. ]

You miss the guys?

[punchedhitler]

[Besides Steve is so warm.]

Of course I do. Can you imagine them here?

[yourbestguysgun]

[ Laughing. ]

Oh god, the place wouldn't be standin'.

[punchedhitler]

And so with so many dames around?

[yourbestguysgun]

[ Snorting into Steve's shoulder. ] Maybe we should be thankful for small mercies, huh? Falsworth'd have a ball.