Bucky: A Short Story

Words: 1045
Pages: 5

Bucky's breathing is just starting to even out when he hears Steve suck in a quick, deep breath. His hands act before his brain can think and he turns so he can slip his hand up to Steve's chest. In any normal situation, it would be nothing to worry about; Steve could have just been settling in his sleep. Steve has had a rough night, however, and it put Bucky on edge. The slightest noise from Steve had Bucky thinking something was seriously wrong with him.

It takes Bucky less than five seconds to feel that Steve's heart is beating a little too fast for his liking. The little punk was sleeping on his left side, like the doctor had told him specifically not to do. No regard for what the doctor had told him, just straight up ignoring the fact
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His eyes are closed again and Steve watches his face carefully, lips slightly parted.

"It was fine until you moved me, you ass," Steve says, nudging his knee up so it hits Bucky's thigh. The way his voice carries suggests that he isn't really mad, but Bucky still feels guilty. "M'back kinda hurts, too. It was actin' up earlier before you came home."

And now Bucky feels kind of like an ass. Okay, a huge ass who shouldn't have woken Steve in the first place, but he didn't want to risk anything in case Steve would've stopped breathing or something.

And isn't that a scary thought, Bucky thinks to himself. There's only been a few times where Steve has really given him a scare. The worst was the night after an especially long walk that ended up in the cold: the air was dry and it had caused Steve's lungs to not work how lungs should, and his back had started up right after. Bucky had managed to get him home in time to get Steve to the nebulizer - thank you Sarah Rogers taking up a profession in nursing - and once the initial pain in his lungs and back had died down the fever had started. Steve had slept almost the whole next three days and his back would flare up occasionally through it