head empty

At first, Bucky had insisted he was fine, that he could manage an eight hour expedition into Louisiana’s ragweed and pollen-rich swamps without any problems. But after spending the first hour of the day coughing, sniffling, sneezing and wheezing in constant rotation, and then launching into an astonishing sneezing fit during breakfast (18 times within 20 seconds), Sam made the executive decision to call off the fishing trip they were supposed to go on with his nephews.

“I told you already, Buck. It’s fine.” Sam sets a Kleenex box on the coffee table. “We’ll do it another time, reschedule.”

Bucky squints, pink nostrils flaring. “But a-are the boys really dis… disa… disahh’TSHhh—” he jolts from his pillow and sneezes harsh enough to send tears down his face. “Guh, disappointed?”

Sam tries- and fails- to suppress an amused smile.

Despite having heard Bucky sneeze at least a hundred times already today, there’s just something about the way he interrupts himself with an itchy little burst that makes Sam feel all gooey inside.

“It’s not funny, Sam,” Bucky huffs, offended. “Was waiting ten minutes for that sneeze- snf!- and not even a damn bless you.”

Sam shakes his head with a fond chuckle as he settles himself into the loveseat closest to the couch. Meanwhile, Bucky lets out a stuffy groan, using his fingertips to massage the tender spots under his eyes where his sinuses are the most backed up.

“You know, I thought you said Steve was the one with all the allergies.”

“Yeah, well, the twenty first century…” Bucky laments, gesturing vaguely at the air with his vibranium hand, “it doesn’t agree with me.”

Sam laughs. “I just think your little urban nose isn’t quite acquainted with the Southern pollen. Huh, city boy?” He boops the tip of Bucky’s nose, drawing out a ticklish gasp.

“hih’hiH—!? Ugh…” the cresting sneeze backs down almost as quickly as it came on, but Bucky feels it lingering in his swollen nasal cavities. “It’s pro’ly both,” he says, answering Sam’s mostly rhetorical question. He gives his nose a good rub, hoping to tease the sneeze out.

“Hm. Probably,” Sam grins, endeared. He watches Bucky focus on his nose, nostrils twitching and breath wavering. “Is it- oh, yeah, there you go,” he says when Bucky finally draws in a deep, pre-sneeze inhale.

“eH’DJSSHhiw!!” Bucky curls forward, sneezing openly at his lap while Sam keeps a steady hand on his back. “huH— EH’TZSChiiw!!”

“Bless you. You good?”

“I think- oh no.” Bucky pinches his quivering nostrils shut and stifles three sneezes into wet, squeaky squelches. “hih’kkddt! dDZSshh! gDZzhsht!!”

“Aw, wow. Those all came at once.”

Bucky scrunches up his face and roughly rubs his nose with the back of his metal hand. “God, I’m still so itchy.”

“Easy there, tiger,” Sam says, taking Bucky’s wrist away from his face. “Want me to do the compress thing?”

“Ngh... I guess. Just need to- h’hih—?!” He hitches desperately to no avail, then lets out an annoyed groan as his nostrils continue to quiver teasingly. “Need to get this itch out of my nose.”

Sam rises and gives Bucky a pat on the shoulder. “I think it’ll help.”

“Huh… h’hopefully— hih’DZZSHhk!!” He sneezes again, itchy-sounding and frustratingly useless. “Dammit.” He forcefully scrubs at his suffering nose all over again.

Sam frowns with pity. “Bless you, Buck. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

***