[ Oh, Bucky.

Steve sighs when he pretty much hears his lover go down heavily onto the couch, that it took so much more effort for him to walk and stand. It pains Steve to watch him like this, but he gives him a smile anyway -- Bucky's always been more of a lover than a fighter, even if the man wades into the many fights that Steve picks and ends 'em, and the man's always been more emotionally attuned and he didn't want Bucky feeling bad about the way Steve worries about him. ]

Damn straight I'll carry you home. [ Like a new bride, huh? Won't that be something? He sets Bucky's shoes aside before working on his coat, helping him to shrug it out. He's warm like a stovetop, practically, and he snorts ungracefully at him. ]

Just a touch of cold, my foot. You're not going in to work tomorrow, y'hear? [ He's bossy, authoritative as he heads into the kitchen to get a cold towel and an icepack, wrapping another towel around it so that it wouldn't sting when he places it on his forehead. ]

Now take your shirt off. Did you work the whole day like this?