#young bucky | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

avonne-writes · 6 months ago

Text

sweetest of the sunflowers

Fandom: Masters of the Air

Pairing: Buck/Bucky

Rating, word count: T, 4k

Summary: John takes care of Gale after his wisdom teeth surgery. (young vets au)

A/N: This is my gift to the amazing, sweet @bcolfanfic in the HBO War Summer Exchange organized by @hbowardaily (thank you for all your work!). My prompt was hurt/comfort with Buck and Bucky, preferably in the young vets au. Mollie, I hope you'll like what I came up with, I tried to do your lovely au justice. Happy exchange day, dear 💕

Link to the AO3 post

Bucky taps his right foot against the ugly brown-gray vinyl of the waiting room's floor, trying to focus. Goosebumps skitter down his arms, but he doesn’t know if it’s from the cold air blasting from the dental clinic's AC to combat the summer heat or if it’s a symptom of his mounting anxiety. Somewhere behind the door he has been staring at for the better half of an hour, Gale is getting his wisdom teeth pulled out under general anesthesia. He’s unconscious, at their mercy. What if something goes wrong? What if they measured the drugs incorrectly and he never wakes up? What if there are complications and he wakes up in excruciating pain? Bucky bounces his knee and digs the fingers of his right hand into the back of his left in a white-knuckled grip. The faux-leather chair creaks under him, barely containing his bulk.

When his ears pick up on the blare of an approaching ambulance, his head snaps up like a hypervigilant dog’s. It’s not coming here, the rational part of his mind reasons. Everything is okay with Gale. No complications, just a clean, routine surgery, and he’ll be back to normal in a few days. But the sound of the siren keeps getting louder. It’s impossible to ignore it. Bucky’s pounding heartbeat plays a cresting drum solo to accompany it. His mind jumps back to that dreadful night when he tried to end it all. How the ambulance sped with him through those dark Wyoming roads, the long hours when he could barely tell if he was dead or alive, and whether life was the better option out of the two. The most fretful sleep he has ever had.

He remembers how Gale followed him with the car all the way there in the middle of the night. Seven hours. What if Bucky has to do the same for him? What if something happened in there, behind that dark door, and the ambulance is coming to take Gale and rush him to the ER?

Nervous sweat gathers under Bucky's arms, soaking into his short-sleeved shirt. After they’d called Gale in for his surgery, he went down a rabbit hole of Reddit posts and articles describing the most horrifying wisdom teeth surgery outcomes until he felt like he was going to throw up. He was itching for a smoke - or better yet, a drink, since he has a flask hidden in the glove compartment of the car - but he held himself back. Gale needs him to be at full capacity today. He’s determined to stay firmly planted in his seat until they call for him to take Gale home.

His leg continues jiggling in agitation until the ambulance comes into view through the wide windows of the clinic. Bucky clenches his teeth, but it just speeds down the road in a plume of dust, its destination unknown. It wasn’t coming to the dental clinic.

Never even blinking, he keeps staring at the window in utter stillness for a long moment before he finally relaxes. When he sinks back in his chair and looks around the room, several pairs of eyes flicker away. The flush of embarrassment creeps up his neck, especially when he spots a teary-eyed kid with trembling lips clinging to his mom. Fuck, Croz was right not to let him babysit in the state he's in. He’s not fit to be around children. Not fit to be around anyone, he thinks with a dark tone. He’s in public, completely sober, and still, he can’t get a grip on himself and ended up scaring a child, who must have already been in need of comfort because dentists are freakin’ scary. What would Bucky’s episodes do to a kid of his own? No, he can’t subject anyone to that. He can’t even bring himself to think about it. It’s more than enough to see how badly it affects Gale, and Gale is a grown-ass man who sticks around out of his own volition. Before he could even consider parenthood, he needs to get better first.

“Don’t worry, dear.” The elderly woman sitting next to him tells him gently and pats the back of Bucky’s linked hands. “They’re the best around here. They’ll sort your teeth out before you know it. You won’t feel a thing.”

Bucky clears his throat and croaks out a thanks, glancing around and finding strangers turning away again as they get startled by him looking back. He knows his ears must be bright red. I’m a veteran, he wants to tell them. The shit I’ve seen doesn’t go away just like that. But what kind of an excuse is that? By all means, he should have already recovered. He’s not the one whose leg - He shuts that thought down before he could spiral deeper into it. This is neither the place, nor the time. Gale depends on him. He had tried to postpone his own surgery because of Bucky’s issues until his sister found out about it and had a tense talk with both of them. What does that say about Bucky as a husband? It’s high time for him to step up and show Gale that he’s there for Gale too, not just the other way around. He can’t let him down by causing a scene or freaking out.

Besides, it’s nice not to be “the crazy vet” for once. Now, he’s just the hulking guy with the dentist phobia. Marginally better.

He spins his wedding band around his finger to distract himself. He wants to text Curt just to have someone tell him he’s an idiot to worry and nothing’s gonna happen, but he holds himself back. His incessant unhinged texts and calls are enough of a burden already. He’ll manage this on his own for as long as he can.

Suddenly, the door swings open and the peppy assistant steps out, smiling as she calls for “Mr. Egan.”

Bucky goes deaf and blind from nerves for a split second before he stands up, wipes his clammy palms on his thighs and makes his shaky legs carry him to follow after the woman. She smiles at him warmly as if she hasn’t noticed.

“Did -” Bucky clears his throat again once they're inside. He struggles with the words, feeling awkward. This place is nothing like the psych ward, but clinical environments will probably never fail to unsettle him. “Did it go all right?”

“Yes, everything went well. All impacted teeth have been removed without any complications.” She directs her cheerful expression at him again as they walk past the operatory. “Mr. Cleven is just through here, in our recovery room.”

She gestures at the second door they’re approaching. “He’ll be a bit dazed and confused, and he might not be in control of what he says, but remember that this is perfectly normal after anesthesia. Try to reassure him and keep him calm. He needs to stay in the recovery room for at least thirty minutes, then the doctor’s going to check if everything is all right, and whether Mr. Cleven is able to stand and walk on his own.” Her reassuring smile never wavers, and her persistence pays off - Bucky feels the worst of his anxiety drain from his body. “If all is well, he’ll be discharged and you can take him home.”

Bucky nods, feeling slightly dazed himself. He already knew what to expect, but he doesn’t know what the reality of that is going to look like. Gale was so anxious about this part beforehand, and it’s easy to understand why. Helplessness and loss of control would be scary to anyone, but to Gale? It’s a nightmare. He was so scared of it that he refused his sister’s offer to be here in Bucky’s place. I’m not letting anyone else see me like that, John, he said when Bucky tried to discuss whether that would have been the better idea instead. Bucky can only hope that he can provide him enough support.

He exchanges a few more words and a quiet thanks with the assistant, then pushes the door handle hesitantly.

The room is specifically designed to be a calming space for recovery after procedures requiring anesthesia. It’s quiet, the walls are painted in warm beiges and browns, and the lights are much dimmer than the harsh neon of the operatory. There’s a small cot in one corner and several padded chairs scattered around. Opposite, close to a door with a bathroom sign, a comfy-looking brown recliner armchair takes up the space. That’s where Bucky finds Gale sitting with his feet propped up and his hands limp on the armrests as though the staff arranged him like that themselves. Gale watches him silently, with hooded blue eyes that match his t-shirt and a displeased downward curve of his mouth that makes him look like a cat. There’s gauze sticking out between his lips, but otherwise, he looks fine.

Bucky feels like the sharp inhale of relief he takes is the first one since he saw Gale walk inside.

“Hi sweetheart.” He says gently as he pads over to Gale and pulls up a chair on Gale’s right side. He doesn’t know why he lowers his voice. It’s not as if speaking louder would hurt Gale. He feels ridiculous for it, but it’s instinctive. He hopes Gale doesn’t mind. With a sigh, he sits down and takes Gale’s hand.

Gale pulls it away sluggishly. “Don’t touch me.”

Bucky’s heart freezes in his chest at those slurred words. Is Gale angry with him? Or is he in pain, maybe? How can Bucky make it better? “I’m sorry. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.”

At a snail’s pace, Gale turns his head to direct his hazy gaze at the door. “You’re handsome but I have a husband, you know.” He mumbles, barely able to get the words out clear enough to be understood. “I’m not a widower.”

The way Bucky’s heart sinks leaves him lightheaded. He has seen a lot of videos about people saying weird things after sedation and he laughed heartily at them all. But there’s nothing funny about this. Nothing. Not being recognized wounds already, but it’s Gale’s second sentence that leaves him truly speechless with guilt and grief. It sounded like Gale was trying to reassure himself that he does, indeed, still have a husband. That the bullet went into the wall, and Bucky to the psych ward instead of the cemetery. There’s nothing funny about hearing Gale unintentionally admit that he thought he might become a widower.

“I know.” Bucky tells him, trying not to get overwhelmed. “I know, darling. It’s me. I’m your husband.”

Gale frowns at the door and blinks slowly, not turning back to Bucky. “My husband is a soldier. A soldier… Your’re in jeans.”

It takes a second for Bucky to make sense of the logic of Gale’s jumbled thoughts and realize that he expected someone in uniform. He’s not sure how to argue with that, so he just bites his lip and reaches for Gale’s hand again. He remembers not to touch only at the last moment, so his hand is left hanging awkwardly on the armrest. Gale’s head tilts as he looks down at it. Slowly, he touches Bucky’s ring with a fingertip and tries to spin it on Bucky’s finger, but his strength leaves him after a moment and he lets his hand drop into Bucky’s open palm. Bucky shifts to hold it properly. This time, Gale doesn’t protest.

“Gale, look at me, sweetheart. It’s me, John. Bucky.”

Gale’s pale blue eyes find his, blink a few times, then Gale’s lips split into a loopy smile that Bucky finds adorable despite the gauze sticking out of his mouth.

“John!” Gale exclaims, startling Bucky with the volume. “I missed you!”

Despite the fact that he’s still reeling from the reminder that he almost left Gale forever, Bucky can’t help but smile back. “I missed you too. How are you feeling?”

Gale gives him a stricken look and wetness wells up in his eyes. He tries to reach for his own face but seems to decide that he doesn’t have the strength to do it after all and lets his free hand drop back in his lap. “They took all my teeth.” He sniffles.

“No, they didn’t. Don’t worry, they’re still there.”

“They took them!” Gale insists, waving with his arm. He drops his head back against the chair, closes his eyes and makes a crying sound. “I have no teeth and you won’t love me anymore.”

Rationally, Bucky knows that he and Gale are going to laugh at some of the things Gale is saying right now, once Gale is back to himself, but he still feels his heart ache from how vulnerable Gale is like this. What if Bucky couldn't be here? What if the bullet hadn’t gone into the wall, but hit its target instead? Bucky’s guilt intensifies until he can barely take it. He pulls Gale’s hand to his lips and presses a kiss to it. “Do you trust me?”

Gale looks up at him with watery eyes. “Yes.”

“I would still love you without teeth, Gale. But they didn’t take all your teeth, I promise. Only your wisdom teeth.”

“You still love me?” The words stumble wetly from Gale’s mouth. He ignores the rest of what Bucky told him.

“Of course I love you.” Bucky smiles and presses another kiss to Gale’s hand, to which Gale’s reaction is patting at Bucky’s mouth clumsily. He rubs at Bucky’s moustache, seemingly fascinated by those short whiskers of hair. He looks lost in his delirious thoughts. Bucky lets him - he doesn’t think he could deny Gale anything now, so overcome he is with fondness.

“I wanted a bunny.” Gale says mournfully. His articulation is getting better, but his eyes are still unfocused and he clearly doesn’t have any of his filters working. “For my birthday. A black bunny. Not white because white bunnies have red eyes.”

Bucky can’t help it, he snorts a laugh. Gale snickers along with him, completely out of it. Gently, Bucky pulls Gale’s hand away and holds it in his own. “This year?” Probably not, but it’s a hilarious thought nonetheless.

Gale doesn’t answer. He stares at Bucky, narrows his eyes, then widens them in a look of wonder and glances around the room. His head tilts in a way that suggests he can barely hold it up. “Whoa, can we get one of these chairs?”

A frown pulls at Bucky’s eyebrows. “Which ones?”

“The blue ones.” Gale says, pointing shakily at the corner of the room that’s set up for children. There’s a low table with sheets of paper and crayons scattered on it, and around it, a few plastic kid chairs.

Bucky stifles another laugh. “Those are for kids, baby. I know you keep saying I’m a big child, but I don’t think that could hold my weight.”

Gale hums. It stretches out so long that it’s like a growl, as if he enjoys the vibration of his own voice and doesn’t want to stop until he runs out of breath. “‘s for our kid.”

Bucky’s smile falls. “Our kid?”

They haven’t talked about that since Bucky’s… Since the worst night of his life. It was clear as day that they couldn’t bring another soul into the mess he caused with his fucked-up mental health. Gale never mentioned it, never even hinted at it since that night. The longing is still there in his eyes whenever he sees Bucky play with children, but this is the first time that Bucky heard it from his mouth that he wants a kid. That he still wants it, after everything.

“I think they’d like it, it’s - it’s -” Gale doesn’t finish his thought out loud, but jumps straight to the next. “You’d be a wonderful dad. The best dad. I’ve thought it all out.” He nods to himself. “The best dad.”

For the second time since he entered the room, Bucky’s heart contracts painfully. “I'm not fit to be a dad, Gale. Not now.”

Gale makes a sudden, wide gesture of frustration and hits Bucky’s arm by accident, but it’s too weak to hurt. “Told you I’d thought it all out.” He mumbles something unintelligible, then drops his head back against the chair. “You take good care of your plants. The plants love you, John. They’re beautiful.” He takes a deep breath and sighs as if settling down to sleep. “I love you too.”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say, so he just swipes his thumb back and forth over the back of Gale’s hand and goes for humor. “And you’re beautiful. I think I see a pattern there.”

“Yes, I’m beautiful.” Gale smiles, as if anything Bucky told him now was a universal truth. "You’re not allowed to kiss me."

Bucky bites back a grin. He may not be allowed but it sounds like Gale certainly wants him to break that rule. "Why not?"

"Dangerous." Gale pouts and touches his own lips. Before he could stick his fingers in his mouth to explore what must be a weird sensation of numbness in there, Bucky grabs his wrist and pulls it away.

"How about a kiss on the cheek, hm?" He shakes Gale’s hands playfully. He knows he shouldn't French kiss Gale for 24 hours after surgery, but that doesn’t mean that everything is off the table. "I think that’s allowed."

After a moment of contemplative silence, Gale gives him an uncoordinated nod. "Only if you keep it a secret."

"Deal." Bucky chuckles and presses a kiss to Gale’s cheek, where it curves like an apple whenever Gale smiles wide.

“Can we go home now?” He hears Gale ask when he pulls back.

He glances at the clock on the wall. “We need to stay here for a few more minutes. Just until you feel better.”

“Oh, okay.” Gale says, then, immediately after, “I feel better.”

“You need to be able to walk first.”

Gale’s eyes snap open and he starts wrestling with gravity to pull himself up and out of the chair. “I can walk.”

Bucky tries to nudge him back down. “Don’t be impatient. We’re not running anywhere, are we?”

“I’m running.” Gale declares with all the determination and none of the muscle control needed for a normal gait. He pushes himself to the edge of the armchair, which already proves to be a struggle, then he turns sideways instead of tilting the recliner back into its default position. “I’m good at it.”

“Easy, easy.” Bucky stands up and places his hands on Gale’s shoulders lightly. An amused smile plays around his lips. “Why don’t you stay put, just for a little while more? Hm?”

A small, frustrated grunt escapes Gale’s lips as he tries to push himself up. “I can do it.”

“Gale, sit your ass down.”

The forlorn look on Gale’s face makes Bucky’s smile widen in fondness.

Gale glares at him, profoundly annoyed. “I can walk. I could do a cartwheel. I just don’t want to.”

“Sure you could.”

“I’m the best at cartwheels. The best. Better than you. I practiced in our backyard.”

“Our backyard?”

“I don’t know.” Gale huffs, then shakes his head. “Practiced after school.”

Bucky bites his bottom lip to keep from grinning. It must have been primary or middle school then. He imagines a wildly blond ten-year-old falling all over himself in the grass, stubborn to get it right. “Did you wanna impress someone?”

Gale hums in agreement, then hugs Bucky around the waist with his trembling arms. He pushes his forehead against Bucky’s stomach. “John, I wanna go home.”

“Shh.” Bucky soothes him, stroking his hair. When he puts a hand on each of Gale’s arms, Gale goes completely limp. He lets Bucky hold him up. “I’ll take you home in no time.”

“Can we go to Subway first?” Gale’s voice is muffled in his shirt. It’s not terribly slurred anymore, but it isn’t clear and measured either. “Like a date? Like a Bagram date. Can you take me back to Bagram? I wanna flirt with you.”

Bucky laughs softly and rocks them back and forth in place. He doesn’t like to think of Bagram, but the memories of their Subway dates remain bright, happy spots like a string of fairy lights in the clusterfuck of darkness the rest of it became. He makes a mental note to take Gale out on a date once he’s allowed to eat solid food again. “You don’t need to go back to Bagram to flirt with me.”

“I’m flirting with you now.” Gale says automatically, and tightens his arms around Bucky’s waist. “I think it’s working.”

Bucky grins and pushes a hand under the collar of Gale’s shirt to stroke his back the way Gale likes it. “Yeah? What gave me away?”

As he turns his head sideways, Bucky can see that Gale’s eyes are closed, and he’s smiling. “Just a gut feeling.” Gale hums contemplatively. “And Curt says so too.”

“Curt, huh?”

“Curt loves you too.”

Golden warmth spreads through Bucky’s chest. It’s strange that marriage can feel like this sometimes. Affection so deep that it wounds. “Makes sense, since he claims to be a pretty boy.”

Gale giggles.

They stay embracing like that until Gale’s dentist comes back to check if he can be discharged.

~♡~

On the way home, in the familiar safety of their car, Gale gets even chattier than before. He narrates the entire drive, happy and relaxed, and sings along to the Fleetwood Mac songs Bucky put in his playlist. It’s only when Bucky turns the car onto their driveway that he quiets down. He doesn’t say anything when they stop, not even when Bucky gives him a reassuring smile. He stays silent even as Bucky climbs out of the car, circles around to his side and unbuckles his seatbelt. However, as Bucky helps him out of his seat, his limbs start trembling again.

At first, Bucky thinks it's muscle weakness, but when he loops Gale’s arm around his shoulders to walk him inside, Gale’s steps are steadier than he expected. He guides Gale into the bedroom and helps him lie down under the covers, but still, Gale doesn’t stop shaking. He’s very lethargic now, but when Bucky sits on the mattress beside him and runs a hand through his blond hair, his lips curl into a faint smile.

“Do you need anything?” Bucky asks quietly.

Gale gives him a tired look. “I'm cold.”

“Oh.” Bucky wants to slap himself for not considering that. He roots around in their closet until he finds Gale’s JSTOR sweater, then helps Gale into it, one arm at a time. He wishes Gale had told him sooner or that he’d realized what the shaking meant, but he can’t do anything about that now.

When he tries to tuck the blanket around Gale again, Gale pulls at his arm until Bucky lies down too, spooning Gale from behind. Speckles of marigold-yellow light sneak in through the half-drawn blinds. Some of them dance on the books lying on Gale’s nightstand, sparks of magic on the colourful covers. Bucky feels himself relax just looking at it.

“You’d be the best dad.” Gale repeats. His breathing slows down. “Told you.”

“All right.”

“I'm so tired.”

Bucky presses a kiss to the back of Gale's neck and breathes in his sweet scent, the smell of home. “Go to sleep.”

“I don't want to.”

“Why not?”

It takes Gale so long to reply that Bucky thinks he has fallen asleep. But eventually, he mumbles something into his pillow. “I'm scared.”

“Don’t be.” Bucky tells him softly and strokes his arm, then his side before wrapping his arm around his waist again. He slots his body as close to Gale's as possible to cradle him in warmth and comfort. “I'm here.”

Gale tightens his grip on Bucky’s hand. “Promise you won’t leave me.”

Bucky squeezes back. “I promise. I’ll be here when you wake up, baby.”

Safe in his arms, Gale finally falls asleep.

#mota #buck x bucky #clegan #gale cleven #john egan #young vets au #hbowarsummer24 #my writing

117 notes · View notes