Chapter Text
With everything going on in his life, Tony felt he couldn’t be blamed for having a bit of an odd schedule. It helped that inspiration, even for him, could be a fickle mistress that was willing to show up one moment and would be gone the next morning if he decided to sleep rather than listen to her demands.
Most of his work could be done without, because he was brilliant, thank you very much, but some of his very best inventions came to be when inspiration did hit.
Fortunately, JARVIS was kind enough to help him out with the people who would complain about his irregular schedule. Pepper and Steve both occasionally tried to get a bit too involved, which was extremely unfair. Just because a regular schedule worked best for them didn’t mean it was for everyone, and they were both stubborn enough to be unwilling to believe that.
At least the others were a lot more understanding. Clint didn’t even have anything that could be called a schedule. Bruce did to some extent, but it mostly involved making sure he got enough sleep at least sometime during the day to make sure he was rested enough to steady his emotions, and he was just as likely to work into the night when he was on the verge of figuring something out. Natasha varied her schedule on purpose, Tony thought, to make sure she would always be able to adapt to whatever was necessary during a mission. Sam generally didn’t bother to comment too much, after one conversation where Tony had told him this was simply what worked for him and had for decades already.
And of course there was Bucky, who was still trying to figure himself out and wouldn’t try telling others what to do.
Ever since he’d shown the other man his garden floor, he knew Bucky had been spending a lot of time in there. He’d dragged another chair into the corner Tony had designated for resting, and Tony honestly suspected it was where he got the most sleep.
The difference in him was obvious, and the others had remarked on it as well. But Bucky had refused to tell them where he went for most of his days that had him looking more relaxed and rested.
As far as Tony knew, none of the others were aware of exactly where he spent his time. He’d told them that he was aware of Bucky’s location, and that they shouldn’t be worried about it. It wasn’t something he’d expected to go over too well, and he wasn’t surprised that Steve still seemed concerned - this was Bucky, after all. Natasha and Clint were mostly uncomfortable with not knowing, and while Tony could understand that very well, he was also determined to protect both Bucky’s privacy and his own. Sam and Bruce, fortunately, both accepted his assurances and seemed mostly relieved that Bucky was doing better in the first place.
There hadn’t been a lot of moments the two of them had run into one another on the garden floor. As much as he might want to hide away all day, Bucky also spent some of his time with the others, trying to get used to being around people who wouldn’t hurt him. And Tony, as mentioned, was usually busy with plenty of other things as well.
The times they did encounter one another were usually peaceful. Sometimes, they both tended to their own plants without saying a word. Other times, Bucky followed Tony around as he told the soldier all about the plants he’d gathered, or they had companionable conversations about all kinds of things they’d encountered during their days. It was honestly one of the easiest relationships Tony had ever had with anyone, platonic or otherwise, and he was enjoying it surprisingly much.
“So, how are your plants doing?” It was the middle of the night, but they were both awake and tending to their plants.
Bucky’s own corner looked well enough, but Tony had respected that it was his and kept his distance. Considering the only other space in the Tower that was exclusively Bucky’s was his bedroom, and that wasn’t really a space that he could relax in, it only felt right to leave it alone.
“Wanna come see?” Bucky asked, voice relaxed. Nowadays, he even managed a small smile, though it was mostly reserved for when he was on the garden floor.
Tony smiled back, unable to help himself. “Only if you want to share - it’s your spot.”
It was difficult to tell what the look on Bucky’s face meant, exactly. Whenever he got too emotional, he still tended to revert to the flat look that had been the Winter Soldier’s trademark, though Tony knew there was more going on behind those eyes. As much as the others still got a bit restless when they saw that look, Tony wasn’t too concerned - if Bucky wasn’t happy, his face would show it.
“Yeah, I… You’re welcome. Here.” It wasn’t smooth, not like Steve mentioned Bucky used to be at all times, but Tony didn’t get the impression that he didn’t mean what he was saying, so he approached slowly.
“Wow, Snowflake. Been hard at work, I see.”
Considering he’d only been at it for a few weeks, it wasn’t at the same level as the rest of the floor was. But it was extremely well-taken care of. Soil loose, but not too much so, and not a weed in sight. Moist, but not overwatered, and each plant with ample space to grow and thrive.
Once more, Tony found himself glad he’d asked Bucky to share this space with him.
Years of Howard’s disgusted disapproval, of Obie’s boisterous belittling, meant that Tony was highly sensitive to rejection. And to have someone so obviously appreciate what he did, to appreciate plants the way he did, to have someone smile at him the way Bucky did…
Yeah, he was weak. He knew he was. But the more he got to know Bucky, the more Tony thought he would not take advantage of that weakness the way so many others had before.
And if he hoped that Bucky might return some of his feelings, well… No one needed to know about that.
Again, Bucky smiled at him. “Yeah, it’s… Nice. Peaceful. And JARVIS has been really helpful when I’ve had any questions.” Off to the side, Tony noticed the StarkPad that Bucky had been carrying around, and he suspected there were quite a few gardening books on there, from what he’d heard. “I like learning more, too.”
Tony chuckled. “Yeah, there’s plenty to learn about all kinds of plants. I’ve actually considered sectioning the floor so I can get some of the more exotic varieties in here as well, but…”
“It’s nicer as a whole,” Bucky agreed, looking around at all the green surrounding them. “Feels like an actual garden.”
“Exactly.” It was so nice to talk to someone who understood. That was what, in the end, had him decide. “Here, there’s… There’s something I want to show you.”
Most of his plants were decorative - bright greens and flowers that cheered him up even on his worst days. There was something very soothing about the natural beauty of it all, and it had been what had drawn him to gardening in the first place. Most other things he did were functional, but this… this had little purpose other than to be beautiful, and he loved that that could be enough.
There was one corner, however, that was slightly different, and that was where he was currently leading Bucky.
A quick glance at Bucky’s face told him that the other man hadn’t been to this corner before. There was obvious surprise, as well as curiosity, as he looked at the fruits. Bushes of blueberries and smaller strawberry plants occupied the entire corner, some of the fruits ripe enough to eat already.
“Most of the plants I have are… aesthetic. They’re pretty, and they cheer me up. They don’t need to do anything but exist and they make my day better,” he explained, Bucky listening quietly and attentively by his side. “But I like these fruits, so I decided… Well, if I wanted them, I might as well put them in, right?”
“They smell delicious,” Bucky admitted. He didn’t look disapproving - instead, he was smiling again, something soft in his eyes that Tony hadn’t seen before.
“Do you want one?” he offered, wanting to keep that smile. “Some of those strawberries look ready for picking.”
“If you wouldn’t mind sharing.”
Not with Bucky, at least. He often kept his fruits to himself, working them into smoothies or eating them as snacks, but he found himself wanting to share with Bucky. Wanting to share more than he’d thought he’d ever want to share.
Some of that probably shone through in his smile as he picked a few of the strawberries and held them up for Bucky to take, saying “not at all”, considering the blush on Bucky’s face. But it was late at night, and he was tired, and he was feeling too much to hide it completely. And if Bucky tensed up, or backed away, he’d leave it alone. He’d respect that decision and keep his own distance.
Bucky did not tense up, or back away. Instead he stepped closer, accepted the strawberry and took an absolutely sinful bite that had Tony’s gaze focused on those soft-looking lips that he wanted to taste for himself.
And then Bucky leaned in, and he did, and they tasted like strawberries and hope.