Chapter Text
Like most days, Bucky wakes up to a telephone call from Steve. "Tony asked us for help," he says.
"He couldn't have asked me directly?" Bucky asks. He's not sure Tony even has his telephone number, but it wouldn't be hard for the billionaire to get his hands on it if he really wanted.
"C'mon, Buck, please." Steve sounds reproachful. He always wants everyone to just get along. Love and peace. As if they're all just living out some damn Hallmark.
"Fine. Send me the address."
When he turns up at Stark's, it’s drizzling outside. Weather’s been weird lately, lots of hailstorms. Steve's already standing by the front entrance waiting. Bucky really hopes he doesn’t think dressing in a red and white check shirt and blue jeans is inconspicuous.
Steve smiles when he sees Bucky, hair slightly damp. “Hey pal.”
Bucky realises why Steve chose to wait for him in the rain when they walk into Stark Industries lobby, and he sees what appears to be a dozen men losing a fight against a set of furniture.
“Who needs a cabinet so large you can’t even take it out its box?” Bucky asks.
“Tony and Pepper do have very tall ceilings,” Steve says.
And whose fault is that?
Steve goes over to greet Stark, and Bucky doesn't know what else to do besides follow him. He hates feeling like Captain America’s lost puppy, but this is Steve's crowd. He doesn’t know anyone.
"Stark."
"Rogers."
They greet each other like rivals from one of Sam's movies. Mean Girls.
Stark is looking at him. Bucky grunts some type of greeting and offers him a hand. He might as well make the first move; break the ice. Love and Peace.
Stark shakes his head at Bucky. "I don't shake hands, no offence," he says. Then he starts tapping at his phone and walks away without another word.
Bucky awkwardly lowers his hand like a fool. That's what he gets for trying.
“Who’s the big guy barking orders?” he asks. He’s got cauliflower ears and a hard-set expression. Ex-boxer or MMA.
“That’s Happy, Tony’s head of security.” Steve nods at the heavily pregnant blonde. “And that’s Pepper Potts.”
Thank God Tony wasn’t around to give Bucky a nickname too.
More SI employees are filing in. Bucky doesn’t particularly like crowds, but he isn’t eager to start trying to drag that closet up the stairs either. Stark’s bought these old-fashioned real-wood pieces. Bucky thought he would've preferred something more modern, like IKEA. But what does he know?
Steve nudges him, “I googled it on the web. Apparently, this is a common thing for pregnant ladies. It’s called nesting.”
“Like birds?”
Bucky knows Pepper Potts. Has seen her on the television. He tries to fit his understanding of that heavily curated Pepper with this Pepper, who wears flip-flops, smiles easily and is about to raise a child with Stark.
Then he tries to imagine Tony Stark—any Tony Stark—raising a child.
Bucky only notices Spider-Man when Stark jumps up and manhandles him towards Steve. And by consequence, Bucky too.
Stark bares his teeth, almost wolfishly, “Rogers, Barnes. You’ve met Spidey before. When he beat your asses in Germany?”
Is that something they can joke about now?
Bucky can’t discern Spider-Man’s expression under the mask; he’s standing ramrod straight. Nervous excitement. Stark stands behind him, hands on his shoulders. Protectively?
Steve smiles and shakes Spider-Man’s hand. “Firm grip,” he compliments, but Bucky can’t help but notice Spider-Man seems more interested in him.
“Dibs on Bucky!” he yells.
It’s a strange feeling.
They pick up a large and heavy display cabinet; Bucky faces forward; he’ll be taking more weight, but he doesn’t trust Spider-Man not to blindly walk him off a ledge somewhere. He’s too busy talking to pay attention to anything else. It’s an open secret that Spider-Man has barely surpassed the toddling age. Maybe that’s why Stark took it upon himself to take him under his wing?
Stark, at least what Bucky knows and understands of him, would never do something so outright… paternal without the promise of personal gain. Spider-Man spends his days preventing car crashes and scolding children and adults alike for scaring away pigeons. Why would Stark care about that?
Spider-Man takes on more of the cabinet’s weight than Bucky expected. He’s not going to pretend he’s not relieved. They’ve got ninety-three floors to go up.
“Y’know, we used to learn about you in history. In school.” Spider-Man says, “But then you came back to life, and you got completely taken off the spec. Too controversial.” He’s staring unabashedly at Bucky’s metal arm. Does he think he’s being discreet?
“Never died,” Bucky says. The least these schools could do is get the facts right.
They shuffle awkwardly around a corner.
“I’ve been explicitly told I’m not allowed to die anymore, but if I could, you would totally be my executioner. In my will.” Spider-Man says.
It takes so much of Bucky’s attention to process that he stops walking completely. “What?” he asks.
Spider-Man stumbles.
Spider-Man says something to try to console Bucky, but he does it by taking his hand off the cabinet, and Bucky is thrown off balance by all the extra weight.
“Sorry,” Spider-Man says sheepishly. He puts his hand back.
Just how strong is he?
“Everything okay up there?” Steve calls from below. Poor guy.
“All good!” Bucky replies. He adjusts his hold to get a better grip on the cabinet. His arm creaks unhappily. He should take better care of himself.
“You ever heard of the Punisher?” Spider-Man asks.
Bucky’s first thought is Frank Castle, but why would Spider-Man care about him? “The serial killer?”
“He’s a friend of a friend,” Spider-Man says matter-of-factly.
Bucky should have words with Stark about that. Maybe he should tell Steve to relay the message. Or is that too petty? “Isn’t Spider-Man all about… love and peace?” he asks.
He tries to ignore how uncomfortable it makes him to think that people put him in the same category as people like that.
“Oh yeah. Totally.” Spider-Man nods. “If we ever met, I’d be having serious words.”
Bucky can’t help but smile at that. “You would,” he says.
They reach the top of the stairs; Stark and Potts greet them, drinking smoothies. The apartment is unnaturally clean. Like an Ikea showroom. Bucky can’t deny, the ceilings are very tall.
Spider-Man and Stark mess around like they’ve done it a hundred times before. They leave Bucky out of it.
Which is fine.
Pepper is staring at him. “Where’s Steve?” she asks warmly.
Bucky shrugs. “Lagging behind. As usual.”
Pepper laughs.
“What gender?” Bucky asks, gesturing towards her stomach.
“Oh!” Pepper looks down, as if she’d forgotten about her pregnancy. “We want to keep it a surprise, but that narrows us down to only gender neutral names. Tony likes Morgan.”
‘I can’t imagine Tony being a father.’ Bucky wants to say, but he stops himself. That probably wouldn’t land.
Tony looks their way. “Or Anthony Jr,” he says. “Either, or.”
“If she’s a girl?” Pepper asks.
“Anthonia Jr sounds very stylish.” Tony says, “You agree, Barnes, don’t you?”
“Bit old-fashioned,” Bucky says.
“I agree with Bucky.” Spider-Man pipes up.
Steve finally shows up, face hidden behind the bedside table he’s carrying. “Where do you want this?”
Pepper jumps up. “In the bedroom, I’ll show you.”
They leave.
“Bucky!” Spider-Man rounds on him again. “Can I call you Bucky? Everyone else does, besides Tony, who acts like he’s Regina George or something. Also, what do you think is more beneficial to society? Elevators or milkshakes?”
Bucky doesn’t know what to answer first. “Is that a Mean Girls reference?”
“So, is it just Rogers who refuses to update his cultural capital?” Tony says.
“That’s Tony’s way of saying you’re his favourite super soldier.” Spider-Man mock-whispers.
Tony shrugs flippantly, “I need more potential babysitters.”
Bucky notes he doesn’t deny it.
“I’ve been asking him for ages what he’s going to do when the baby gets a soiled diaper.”
“I’m a billionaire. You can’t seriously expect me to deal with all that—peonage?”
How far away is that bedroom?
Spider-Man laughs. “Don’t pretend to be snobby when you’re just a germaphobe.”
Bucky can’t help himself. “You’re a germaphobe?” he asks. It does explain the freakishly clean apartment.
He’s trying to fit his understanding of that heavily curated Tony Stark with this one, who drinks smoothies, is germaphobic and is about to raise his first child—or second. This Tony Stark sounds like he’d be down for some love and peace.
Stark looks uncomfortable. Like he’s lost control over the direction of this conversation and isn’t used to it. “You didn’t clue in when I didn’t shake your hand earlier?”
No, Bucky didn’t. Which was the point.
He is starting to realise that Stark likes to hide behind people’s assumptions of him. It’s funny because Bucky feels like he’s constantly trying to outrun his own reputation.
Steve and Pepper finally come back. Steve wants to immediately get right back into it. Get the job done. “We shouldn’t just leave all that furniture downstairs. It’s not good,” he says. So they call the elevator.
Just as Bucky is about to step in, Stark cuts him off. “So how about giving me your number?” he says. “For that babysitting gig?”
Steve smiles like this was his entire plan.
Some damn Hallmark.