Summary/snippet:

During the second night, when Bucky was barely lucid with fever, he had opened his eyes to see Gale with his head resting where he was holding Bucky’s hand in his own. “You got to fight this John” Gale whispered into their linked fingers. “Thought I lost you once. Can’t do it again” Bucky was about to turn and tell him he’s alright and that Gale needs to go to bed because his back was going to kill him in the morning with the way he was crouching like that. But he fell silent in shock as he felt moisture on his knuckles. Gale was crying silently against his hand. His breathes left him in quiet huffs as he held on to Bucky. Tears falling drop by drop. Bucky felt helpless as he squeezed his eyes shut. Felt his own eyes burning as the wave of emotions hit him like a freight train. It felt surreal to witness this. To witness Gale crying. Crying over him. Years of wondering what would make Gale break and in the end, it had been him. It filled him with shameful hope. Hope that maybe what Gale felt for him was more than just a friendship. I thought I lost you too. He thought but he had told Gale that already it feels like a privilege to feel your tears on my hands. He remained silent. Gale obviously thought Bucky is asleep so he refused to interrupt Gale’s private moment with useless words. He didn’t want Gale to put on that mask back on have to pretend he’s fine for Bucky’s sake so he just pretended to sleep. He kept his grip on Gale’s fingers strong, though. His thumb rubbed soothing circles on his knuckle as sleep and fever swallowed him again. If Gale noticed it, he never said anything about it and that was that.

Or through the years, Bucky has developed a complicated relationship with Gale crying.