→ 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

[punchedhitler]

[Steve laughs; the sound is right from his chest, where Bucky's face is.]

We'll tell them we live on the street.

[yourbestguysgun]

[ Bucky's hum is soft, calmed by the noise in Steve's chest. It's different, to hear a strong heartbeat in there. ]

Good. Give 'em a sob story, they can't have here. It's ours.

[ And okay, maybe it's the medicine, but Bucky likes to claim things. Mostly things Steve has. ]

[punchedhitler]

Mmhmm.

[They both know that Steve couldn't actually do that. He would invite them to stay because that's the Kind Of Guy He Is.]

[yourbestguysgun]

[ Which is pretty much why Bucky prods him in the stomach. He knows. ]

[punchedhitler]

[Yelp!]

How am I supposed to actually lie? I'm terrible at it!

[yourbestguysgun]

[ Muffling his laugh. ] Fine. Leave it to me.

[punchedhitler]

Only if you're not sick.

[Steve is smirking.]

[yourbestguysgun]

Shut up.

[ Sense the hatred, Steve. Sense it. ]

[punchedhitler]

[Steve miraculously does shut up, just to suppress some laughter for a moment.]

Are you starting to feel better?

[yourbestguysgun]

Maybe.

[ What do you know? Steve and medicine works wonders, Crepe snoring at the foot of the bed. It makes Bucky more happy than it should.

Quieter. ] Thanks.

[punchedhitler]

We take care of each other.

[yourbestguysgun]

S'just weird, it should be the other way round.

[punchedhitler]

Yeah, it's about time I return the favor.

[yourbestguysgun]

You won't get sick anymore, will you? How am I supposed to gert revenge then?

[punchedhitler]

You'll have to wait for someone to shoot me.

[yourbestguysgun]

)'say that like I'd let anyone get near enough to take you out.

[punchedhitler]

Sorry, my mistake.

[yourbestguysgun]

Damn straight. Nobody's gettin' t'you as long as I'm around.

[punchedhitler]

[There's one of Steve's strange silences - grown less common but then he can't help it some days, when Bucky says things like that.]

You've never let me down.

[His hand keeps rubbing, warm and consistent.]

[yourbestguysgun]

You go all funny sometimes.

[ Sickness shakes the wall they build a little, Bucky sounding hazier by the second, but it's something he's noticed. ]

Do I? Let y'down, I mean.

[punchedhitler]

[Steve shakes his head]

Not even once.

[yourbestguysgun]

'Kay.

[ A long pause. ] Because y'know if I ever do, I don't mean it.

[punchedhitler]

Get some sleep, Buck. You'll feel better.

[yourbestguysgun]

Bossy.

[punchedhitler]

You know me.