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Bucky sipped the bitter coffee he’d bought at the deli on the corner. He froze momentarily as a couple of neighbourhood cops walked in, some of the jobs he’d taken in the past to make ends meet and keep a roof over Steve’s head when he was unwell were a little less than respectable, but the store owner began chatting easily with them.
Bucky almost let out a sigh of relief and continued to sip the coffee, when he overheard something that made his blood run cold. “Yeah a real scrawny blonde fella… the dame ran up to us screaming that her date was going to kill a guy for protecting her honour when he got too fresh. We thought she was just over-reacting, but when we got to the alley there was just this runt, all covered in his own blood and unconscious on the ground. The ambulance came and took him away, still breathing thank goodness, although I don’t know how.”
It couldn’t be Steve? There has to be hundreds of blonde… No, not stupid enough to get into a fight with someone much larger than them.
Bucky tried to appear casual as he walked out the front door of the store, then bolted in the direction of the nearest hospital.
By the time he reached the reception desk, he was covered in sweat and panting hard. Barely able to catch his breath, Bucky blurted out between gasps for air “Is there a Steve Rogers here? Blonde guy, got beaten up real bad?”
“And who is asking?” The prim middle-aged nurse looked over her glasses at him,
Bucky straightened, trying not to sound so out of breath and smoothing his hair back, “James Buchanan Barnes, his.. uh… half brother.”
The nurse narrowed her eyes but Bucky held her gaze and she relented. “This way, dear.”
The nurse led Bucky to a bed in a large ward. It almost looked too large for Steve’s small frame.
Steve’s eyes widened in surprise, “Bucky, how did you know I was here?” Steve’s face was black and blue, as was every other part of him that was visible.
Bucky waited until the nurse had left, giving them both a suspicious look on her way out.
“Stevie,” Buckie reached out a hand but stopped short, resting it palm down on the bed beside Steve’s arm instead, “I overheard some cops talking about ya, they said you were unconscious!”
Steve looked sheepish, as much as that was possible with two puffy black eyes, “Just a concussion, and they did have to re-set my nose…”
“Just a concussion?!” Bucky ran his free hand through his hair in exasperation, “when we get home I’m going to paddle your scrawny ass myself. That guy could have killed you, and if that had happened…” Bucky went deathly quiet, a tear streaming down his cheek.
Steve took Bucky’s hand that was resting on the bed in his own on, lacing their fingers together. “‘m sorry,” he looked down at the bed sheets.
Bucky let out a loud sigh. “It’s ok, Punk,” and then leaning forward to whisper in Steve’s ear “but I’m still going to paddle your ass as soon as we get home.”
The way Steve’s breath hitched told Bucky he would be blushing if he could see the colour in Steve’s cheeks.
It was a couple of days before the doctors were willing to release Steve from the hospital, concerned there may have been some internal bleeding.
Bucky was desperate for more, but careful of Steve’s healing split and bruised lips as they kissed slow and deep as soon as they got in the door of their apartment and closed it behind themselves.
“Now, about what you promised to do as soon as we got home?” Steve smirked against Bucky’s lips, as Bucky stepped back, raised an eyebrow and pulled him towards the couch.