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Tony Stark, as promised, was a lot to take in.
Bucky doubted he had ever met someone with so much unbridled energy, crackling around the man as he spoke, a whirlwind of movement and and conversation Bucky could hardly keep up with at first. Bucky was in a somber daze when Steve brought him to the tower, quiet, and, as Clint put it, brooding. He hadn’t seen Stark for the first week he had been in the tower.
The only warning offered about the young Stark was Steve’s nervous “Don’t mention Howard, and don’t take anything he says personally. Or literally. Sometimes it's best just to not engage.”
It was when Bucky finally left his room out of hunger, hoping to get to the kitchen early enough that he could avoid meeting anyone else. When he entered the kitchen though, the whole team was there. There was a pause in conversation when he entered, eyes turned wary and a tension falling over the room like a weighted blanket. Bucky resisted the urge to turn and run, almost flinching when Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder, pulling him further into the room. It was then that a man Bucky recognized as Tony Stark made his entrance, practically falling into the room as he pulled a suit jacket on, throwing an open briefcase on the table dramatically.
“Give me the fucking coffee pot, the whole thing, hand it over.” Tony demanded, struggling with his tie.
“Morning to you too, Tony.” Clint’s smirk quickly became a yelp of protest as Tony snatched the coffee cup from his hand and proceed to chug the rest of it. Bucky felt his eyebrows raise a hair as Tony began tossing food into the briefcase, feeling confusion and a certain level of wonder at the man's morning antics. He was thrown off by seeing the man in person, bright brown eyes, dark hair, and a meticulously groomed beard. Bucky had seen the man in photos, photos that didn’t do him justice.
It wasn’t what he had been expecting from the famous Tony Stark, though he shouldn't be too surprised, given Steve’s warnings of him.
“I’m late for a meeting and I have three missed calls from Pepper, I’ve never been more terrified.” Tony said, cramming a donut in his mouth. “Natasha, come with me, I need a bodyguard.”
“I would never betray Pepper like that,” Natasha retorted calmly, not looking up from the newspaper. Tony made a face at her, grabbing Steve’s coffee as he walked by.
“That was unnecessary,” Steve protested.
“So are your superhero tights, but you don’t hear me complaining about that.” Tony called over his shoulder, sending Steve into a blushing fit.
Tony abruptly froze then, spun on his heel, and looked over at Bucky, the full force of those bright eyes making him freeze. “And you must be Barnes?”
“Yes.” Bucky’s voice was rough in his own ears as he stared at Tony, caught between caution and something that felt similar to panic. The man was gorgeous, which was the last thing Bucky needed to be thinking right now.
“Huh.” Tony gave him a quick once over, eyes lingering briefly. “I guess I was expected you to jump out of the freezer or something.” Seemingly as an afterthought he added “Are all you supersoldiers this attractive, or does ice do things for your skin?”
“Tony,” Steve’s voice was a warning. Amusement bubbled in Bucky’s chest, somewhat unfamiliar.
Tony just waved his hand dismissively. “Alright, okay, I know you don’t like the ice jokes, Capsicle, I’m leaving. Welcome to the tower, Barnes. This will be the only time you see me, as I am going to face certain death.”
Bucky didn’t respond, finding his mouth hanging open marginally at the man's casual greeting and eccentric entrance. Tony gave a wave over his shoulder as he left. The tension in the room went with him, drained from the air, and Bucky thought his relief might be obvious as the team went back to their conversations.
“So that’s Tony Stark, huh?” Bucky murmured to Steve.
A small smile crossed Steve’s face. “Yeah. You’ll get used to it.”
Bucky doubted it.
Steve had finally convinced Bucky to let Tony look at his arm, after weeks of protest. Bucky felt a near hatred for the arm, a creation and reminder of HYDRA. He had ignored the pain and discomfort the limb caused him for weeks, not wanting to fix what HYDRA had made.
Bucky entered the workshop where Tony was leaning over one of the tables, goggles pushed up into his mess of dark hair, hands buried in a mess of wires and metal. Bucky’s eyes ran over the mechanics exposed arms, up to his collarbone, shining with sweat. He cleared his throat, unable to do much more as Tony rolled his shoulders, arms flexing.
The brilliant smile Tony gave him made Bucky think he would let Tony do anything he wished to his arm.
The feeling only intensified as Tony sat Bucky down, wheeling himself over in a chair, eyes going wide when Bucky exposed the arm.
“Oh my god,” Tony breathed, eyes running over the metal contraption. “Dude. I might have a kink for your arm.” Bucky coughed, feeling his ears heat up. Tony didn’t seem to notice, hands hovering over the arm.
“You can touch it,” Bucky said softly.
Tony looked up, meeting his eyes before allowing his fingers his brush over the metallic surface. In another life, Tony’s hands might have belonged to that of a musician or a painter, fingers long and slender, deft and steady as they moved. Bucky supposed Tony made an art of his own with those hands, created amazing contraptions out of nothing, armor and robots and a million other things Bucky could never understand. They certainly didn’t tell the story of an musician now. Tony’s hands were littered with scars from small cuts and burns, calloused from years of work.
“Does it interpret touch?” Tony inquired now.
“I can feel with it,” Bucky shivered as Tony’s fingers brushed over his wrist, gently turning the arm over. The metal plates shifted and rippled as Tony moved it and the genius practically drooled, eyes alight.
“Jesus,” Tony spun around in his chair, pulling up a holographic screen. “JARVIS, do a scan on Bucky’s arm for me.”
“Right away, Sir.” The AI answered, and then they were looking at an rotating image of Bucky’s arm on the screen, making Tony stand up.
“It’s gotta be connected to your nervous system somehow, shit, I wonder if they replicated anatomy-” Tony swiped the screen, zooming in on the arm and opening it up on the screen. “They would need to have a power source for that, obviously. Christ, how did they do that, it’s a near replication to the chemicals, they have neuromuscular junction transmission nearly perfected, I might cry.”
He spun back towards Bucky, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Sorry, anyways, you said it was causing you discomfort?”
Bucky nodded. “I just thought it the common arthritis you get after being alive for a hundred years, but I thought I should check in anyways.”
Tony stared at him for a moment before giving a blinding grin. “Oh my God, that was a joke- you are so much better than Steve, I’m keeping you.” Bucky couldn’t help but give a smile back.
“Anyways,” Tony continued, “I’m gonna have to open the arm up to clean it up a bit, but that’s totally up to you, we don’t have to do it anytime soon.”
“We can do it now. If you’re not busy, of course.” Bucky added.
He was rewarded with another bright smile. “I can clear my schedule.”
Bucky found shelter in Tony’s workshop after that.
Maybe because when Tony looked at him it was without the caution and pity even Steve’s eyes held for him. Because Tony joked and flirted and danced around, and Bucky could never just keep one eye on him, unable to offer anything but his full attention. It obviously baffled the genius, how Bucky focused on him, not used to people giving him their full attention when it was just him, stripped of armor and suits. Bucky wondered why, why anyone had ever looked away from him.
It was because thoughts came unbidden to Bucky’s mind when he saw Tony: bright, confusing, beautiful, flooding his mind when the genius strode into a room, all bright smiles and grand gestures, though Bucky could see the tension in his shoulders, circles under his eyes, a nervous undertone that years of HYDRA had taught Bucky to pick up on. Tony carried weight on his shoulders despite his grace, and his eyes were world-weary alongside their sharp brilliance. It caused Bucky to linger on him, soak it in.
Because in Tony’s workshop some of that tension drained and his dark eyes became vibrant and irradiant as he worked and talked. Tony often forgot Bucky was there, lost in his work as he danced to loud music played over the speakers, never a pause in his constant flow movement.
It was because Tony was fucking brilliant, and being in his workshop was always an wonderstruck experience. Bucky could hardly grasp that Tony defined the term genius, and was even more baffled at Tony’s nonchalantness at it. Whenever Bucky complimented Tony’s work the man was pleased but unsure, waving Bucky off and moving on to another topic.
“How do you even figure all this out?” Bucky had asked, trying to comprehend the mass of equations across the hovering screen, graphs and blueprints sprawling across more, written in the air like magic.
“What do you mean?” Tony asked, barely glancing up at Bucky from the tangle of wires in his hands.
“I mean, I get that you’re a genius and all, but how do you work through all of this? Do you even have a calculator in here?”
Tony blinked. “What would I need the calculator for?”
Bucky had to laugh at that. “Jesus, Tony. The math, the equations, the inventing coolass shit.”
“Oh. I guess I do it in my head. And JARVIS does a lot of the work, obviously. I don’t think I’ve ever even used a calculator honestly, I had one once but I ended up taking it apart to make a phone, I think. Or a oven top to cook my poptart. I can't remember. ” Tony shrugged, going back to his work while Bucky stared at him, at a loss for words.
Bucky had not expected to take such a sudden liking to Tony Stark, but while he practically avoided the others, he was drawn to Tony. It wasn’t just that Tony was completely his type, sarcastic and witty, smart as a whip and high maintenance.Tony was the kind of person you had to spend time with to know anything about, someone who was on both defensive and offensive when meeting someone.
And Bucky adored a bit of a challenge, especially if it came in corded arms, tight tank tops, and messy dark hair.
They were all coming back to the tower after a skirmish, Steve having finally allowed Bucky out on the field with the team, bruised after a creation of Loki’s had nearly gotten the better of them.
Clint had been praising himself when Bucky noticed Tony was unusually silent over the comms. He didn’t comment on it, but a twinge of unease tugged at him. It was when the jet landed that Tony, still in the suit, staggered to his knees with a grunt.
“Tony?” Steve moved towards him, concern prominent in his features as the suit peeled back, metal plates shifting and sliding into each other until the man inside could collapse onto the ground. Blood stained the front of his undersuit, and the unease flared into panic in Bucky’s stomach.
“So this might be worse than I had originally thought,” Tony managed, voice strained.
What followed was an immediate flurry of action. Steve cursed under his breath, hoisting Tony up and dragging him back towards into the jet. “Everyone else, stay here, I’ll get Tony to the hospital.” He called, but Bucky was already hot on their heels.
Tony was protesting as he clung onto Steve, but a shared look from Bucky and Steve silenced him. For a moment, anyways, as Bucky wrapped the wound, trying to slow the bleeding, all the while chastising Tony.
An hour later, Tony was seated in a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages and looking uncomfortable as Steve stared at him from his chair.
Bucky had had to wrestle Tony to keep him in the bed, despite protests and declarations of ‘freedom.’
“If you don’t lay down and shut the fuck up I’m calling Pepper.” Bucky had finally threatened, and after a minute of consideration Tony had chosen to slouch back in the bed and pout. The nurse had looked amused by the whole thing.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Steve asked now, which seemed like a stupid question to ask Tony.
“You never asked,” Tony replied, taking another bite of pudding.
Steve threw his hands up, his previous anger now exasperation. “Yes I did! I asked you if you were okay on our way back to the tower.”
Tony nodded solemnly. “And I told you I was fine. Which is technically true, I am okay, not dead, kidnapped, or hungover. You never asked if I was hurt,” Tony pointed his spoon at Steve. “So, really, I didn’t lie, and you were just being inconsiderate.”
Steve stared back at Tony, looking like he was considering harming himself with the spoon. Bucky snorted, trying to restrain his laughter. Tony ate his pudding victoriously. Finally, Steve sighed dramatically, and sat back in his chair.
“I wonder why I even ask.”
“You’re exactly right, Cap. There are much better things you could be doing, like fetching me more pudding.” Tony said, licking his spoon. Bucky’s eyes followed the movement.
“That’s your third cup,” Bucky pointed out.
“Captain Obvious, BFF and partner in justice to Captain ‘Merica, thank you so much for that observation.” Tony drawled, flicking a bit of pudding at Bucky with his spoon.
Bucky let out a bark of laughter at that, unable to stop the grin that overtook his features. Tony smirked back at him, tired but relaxed.
Bucky saw Steve's expression, surprised and a little wistful at Bucky’s laugh, but happy. It tugged at Bucky’s heart, to see Steve look at him like that, because he knew Steve was searching for the Bucky he knew from Brooklyn, unchanged and unharmed.
Bucky knew Steve wouldn't find what he was looking for.
Tony was too close as he bent over Bucky’s arm.
He smelled like soap and citrus and his machines, and it made Bucky ache to lean in closer. His brown eyes were luminous in the dim lighting, wide and brown and soft from sleep.
They were standing in the kitchen with the oven clock reminding them that they should be in bed. Bucky had walked in, woken from his nightmares of cold and rust and blood to find Tony half asleep at the table.
And now, despite Bucky’s weak protests, Tony was poking a butter knife between the plates of his arm, dislodging whatever it was that had caused Bucky to flinch as he moved the limb.
Now Tony was too close, and when he looked up their faces were inches apart, cast in deep shadows, lit by the soft glow of the arc reactor. “Done,” Tony’s voice was soft, eyes still on Bucky. “Does it still hurt?”
Bucky flexed the limb, never looking away, afraid to break the moment. Slowly, cautiously, he brought the metal arm up, brushing messy waves from Tony’s forehead and dragging the tips of his fingers down in a feather light touch to cup his face. “Seems fixed to me.”
Tony’s breath caught, dark eyes briefly searching Bucky’s. Bucky leaned forward, pressed his lips to Tony’s, gentle. Without hesitation, Tony’s hand curled in his shirt , moved him closer.
Then they were kissing, slow and deep as Bucky savored the the taste of coffee on Tony’s lips, soft and slightly chapped against his own. Tony tilted his head, mouth opening, tongue sliding out just briefly to run along Bucky’s bottom lip, causing Bucky to nearly groan into his mouth. A question, a challenge. Bucky answered with vigor.
Bruce found them a few minutes later, turning on the light to illuminate Tony seated on the counter, hands in Bucky’s hair, Bucky gripping his waist, the two entangled. It took them a few seconds to realize the lights had come on and Bruce was standing there staring at him, caught up in each other completely.
“Hey, Bruce,” Tony said breathlessly, a wild grin on his face. “We were just, uh, experimenting. For science, of course.”
Bucky nodded somberly, unable to release his hold on Tony.
Bruce blinked, then turned straight around and walked out, turning the lights off as he went.
“You know,” Bucky murmured, facing Tony. “It just so happens I greatly enjoy science.”
Tony gave him a wicked grin, leaning back in. “It just so happens I know a lot about science. An impressive amount, in fact.”
“Is that so?” Bucky ran his hands up Tony’s chest to sling his arms around his chest. “Anything in particular you could show me on the subject?”
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