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Tony Stark is a lot of things (Genuis-Billionaire-Playboy-Philanthropist), but considerate would not generally make it on the list.
After all, the number of warnings Bucky received on his arrival to Avengers Tower led him to believe that the however inaccurately named Ironman was someone to look out for:
“He can be a bit much,” came the most charitable response from Doctor Banner, before adding quickly, “but he’s harmless.”
“Of course you’d think so,” Natalia remarked with some amusement, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah,” her blond shadow echoed in a decidedly more aggressive tone, “you can turn into a wall of angry fucking muscle, but the rest of us?” Making sure that he was looking Bucky in the eye, codename Hawkeye repeated, “Stark’s a menace. He built a psychotic robot that would’ve destroyed the entire planet.”
“Wasn’t that her fault,” Bucky couldn’t help but remind them, catching the Witch’s attention where she was feigning disinterest in the conversation which, from what he’d seen of her, was probably a good thing. Anything that came out of her mouth involving Stark was decidedly biased.
While Bucky had heard all about Stark’s role in her parents’ death, it was still a result of collateral and didn’t even directly involve the man in question.
Besides, the Witch had, after all, been the one to join a terrorist organization in the end with the intention of destroying him.
Not to mention her latest upset wasn’t even her (only slightly) tragic backstory and Stark’s role in it. Rather, that she was grounded after the spectacular shit storm that was Lagos.
Still, the Witch had to be more volatile than Tony Stark.
At even a mention of her less than innocent role in the above incident, red mist began to waft in the air around her, and Bucky noted that Doctor Banner immediately tensed before Natalia shot the Witch a warning look.
For a minute there was a pregnant silence before the Witch wisely stood down, and that’s when Banner finally managed almost meekly, “I helped.”
“Tony flirts with anything that moves, was the point I was trying to make,” Natalia said, playing mediator and setting the conversation back to rights. “He errs on the side of outrageous, and not everyone can take it. Plus, he’s excitable, about science and pop culture and god knows what else. Just – try not to let it get to you.”
Bucky would have snorted that of all things to warn him about it was Stark’s flirtatious streak, but his expression belied nothing of the sort.
Still, Steve insisted, “He’s pretty over the top, Buck. I love the guy, but he takes some getting used to.”
He made a noncommittal shrug. Bucky could adapt. He survived almost seven decades of shit, what was a genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist, anyway?
A lot, apparently, and not for reasons anyone would have thought.
Because first off, of all the warnings he got, Tony Stark looking like sex was not one of them.
He met them in the common room, standing by the wall of floor to ceiling window, and dressed in a suit – it was expensive and perfectly tailored to encase an ass that wouldn’t quit. And Jesus, when the man turned around to face them, all artfully messy dark hair, neatly groomed beard, honeyed eyes rimmed with the prettiest lashes he’d ever seen, but shielded vaguely by a pair of orange lenses, Bucky could have very well died.
He’s dangerous because he’s my type.
Steve greeted, “Hey, you heading somewhere?”
He groaned in response, and it was sweet music to Bucky’s ears.
“Meetings and bureaucracy,” Stark replied, swiping his glasses off in a fluid movement and pointing at Steve with them. “That stunt in Nigeria is getting out of control, and I already cannot even with this Hydra-infiltrated-SHIELD nonsense.”
“What’re they saying,” Natalia asked, brows furrowed.
“They’re using it as an excuse to push the Accords ahead of time,” he informed, pinching the bridge of his nose, a frown tugging at his full perfect lips. “They’re nowhere near acceptable, but the talks are happening and I don’t have the time or resources to deal with two shit storms at once.”
“Then delegate,” she said flatly. “You need someone to keep an eye on it, I’ll go.”
With a dramatic sigh of relief, he squeezed her arms. “You’re the light of my life, Tasha.”
And if Bucky hadn’t agreed for Steve’s sake that he’d behave, he’d probably fight Natalia for that claim, instead, he settled for simply standing there. That seemed enough for Stark to finally notice him on his own.
“Ah, the famous James Buchanan Barnes, I presume?”
Before he could even open his mouth and actually get to exchange words with the fine specimen that was The Genuis-Billionaire-Playboy-Philanthropist, Steve jumped in, “Tony, you promised.”
Raising his hands in a universal sign of surrender, Stark tilted his head in acquiesce, and Bucky would have throttled him. Steve, not Stark. He’d do other things to Stark, a lot of other things.
“I have to get SHIELD shit in order anyway; I’d rather have Aunt Peggy call me Howard for the rest of her days then ask what’s become of it," he declared with a roll of his eyes, and Bucky could have purred with the desire to make it all better.
“If there’s anyone that can handle it it’s you,” Steve said encouragingly to which Stark only shrugged and bid goodbye to them all with a, “Later, losers” before sauntering off.
And boy, if Bucky didn’t enjoy seeing that man walk away, he’d be lying.
Though, he was more interested now in when Stark would be walking back. If the warnings he got earlier are anything to go by, he actually can’t wait to be a recipient.
Of course, the universe could never just follow the script, and Bucky was left decidedly underwhelmed after at least a month since his arrival and still nothing.
It wasn’t even because business was keeping the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist.
Bucky would walk in and catch Stark and Banner commandeering the table before dinner with science stuff, a million transparent screens open, talking a mile a minute and there that outrageous flirting that Bucky was supposed to be getting too for all and sundry to see.
It wasn’t even limited to Banner, Stark would practically be on top of Sam when they were fighting over what to watch on the television; zero regards for personal space and no shits to give.
When Colonel Rhodes came over it was even worse!
The android, the Vision, was usually reserved and clearly Stark could draw his own boundaries up because he never pushed for more than a comforting pat on the shoulder (which was still more than Bucky got). Though Vision still got called “the fire of my loins” every now and then, and it was all a result of some inside joke about Vision technically being Stark’s son, but it was still enough for Bucky to envy the guy who didn’t have taste buds.
At least with Steve, there was some kinship of a lack of physical contact because Bucky was legitimately going to have a conniption if Steve can get some and I can’t. Apparently, Stark was using how he treated Steve as a template for how to treat Bucky, and it was most definitely not going over well.
The only people that weren’t getting any of Stark’s clearly tactile love and terms of endearment was Hawkeye and the Witch, but clearly, they were on their own trip in life.
Still, all this was definitely Steve’s fault.
But Bucky was nothing if not amenable to a situation. He decided one day after running into Tony in nothing but a tank top and a pair of old jeans hanging loosely around his slim hips; skin dewy with sweat and lips pouting and pink when he found that there was no more root beer in the fridge, that Bucky would make it work. Even if that meant being the one to push at Tony’s agreed upon good behavior.
Bucky tried for non-verbal cues first, they seemed the easiest, and Tony didn’t seem all that perturbed about having people in his personal space.
He purposely brushed passed Tony whenever he could and he’d sit close enough during Movie Nights that their thighs would be flush against one another. He’d even invited himself to spar with Tony and got right up in his business.
Still, Tony was all politeness, and though he didn’t make a move to encourage it, Bucky was definitely not imaging the way Tony had to adjust himself after.
Sadly, the touches remained unreturned and there was not a hint of a nickname or flirtation his way. But Tony was a blusher, and that was the second most amazing thing to find out.
The first was that he had a thing for the Brooklyn accent, and it was entirely by accident that Bucky found out.
He just happened to be walking up the stairs after his run with Tony walking down it, they hadn’t even brushed arms before Tony lost his footing and Bucky had caught him without a second thought, “Watch your step, darlin’”.
It was actually embarrassing on Bucky’s part on account of how long it took for him to realize what had even happened; after all, Tony had scrambled out of his arms with a forced laugh and immediately left.
It wasn’t until he was recalling it in his bed; the feel of him in Bucky’s arms – smaller and more compact than Bucky himself – all golden tanned, soft and spicy smell – and his eyes – the butterscotch color of his iris was a thin ring around blown up pupils and – ding, ding, ding, we have a winner!
That was less than a day ago, and fortunately for Bucky, yet another opportunity arose for him to push that boundary a little more, and it was all thanks to Hydra.
The arm was acting up, not too painful but it had caught him by surprise and while grimacing in pain, Friday, the eye-in-the-sky and all-knowing youngest robot child of Tony, said the magic words, “If you require maintenance Sargent Barnes, Boss would be happy to help.”
Happy wouldn’t even begin to describe Tony’s reaction to Barnes coming into The Holy Land.
In fact, if Steve hadn’t insisted that Barnes needed an adjustment period and Tony, you’re literally the embodiment of the future and he’s barely thawed, just go easy on him! Tony would have found some roundabout way of asking the Winter Soldier to come on down for a tour because that metal arm is the stuff of legend and I need to touch it.
Of course, the fact that said arm was currently hurting its wearer made assessing it all the more important.
Directing Barnes to a chair, waving DUM-E off with his latest shake-offering, Tony met his pale blue eyes with a grin. “So, what seems to be the problem Tasty-Freeze?”
The other man raised a brow, and oh yeah, Turn’t-down-Tony in the building.
He cleared his throat. “I do nicknames, I don’t mean anything by it. Not important. Your arm; good sir?”
Because listen, awkward recoveries or not, Tony isn’t a total asshole.
The guy is from the forties, and things were different then. Not to mention the poor man’s got his brain scrambled for longer than Tony’s been alive, and despite his whining and moaning, Steve’s right. It’s probably for the best that Tony doesn’t go All or Nothing, Hot Stuff because there was such a thing as cultural differences and Tony doesn’t really want to put his foot in his mouth and have Barnes hate him.
“Y’know, you don’t need to do that.”
“Do what?”
“That,” Barnes gestured vaguely at Tony with his flesh and blood hand, and dumbly he followed the motion with his eyes until they crossed, “I’m no fuddy-duddy, you can talk like you usually do.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Tony choose to play dumb instead, beginning his assessment of the metal arm and mentally chanting Steve said! against the unfurling heat in his belly because goddamn that accent.
And because the universe took pleasure in making him suffer, Barnes exhaled before drawling fucking drawling, “I might be new to the tech and how the world works now, but being frozen hasn’t done anything to my hearing.”
Yeah, okay, should have thought of that. He shrugged. “Hey, I just didn’t want to rattle your cage, I’m the 21st-century futurist after all.”
“Doesn’t mean you have to treat me differently,” Barnes pointed out, and shit, did I hurt his feelings? Great job, Stark.
Tony winced. “To be fair I didn’t know what your boundaries were, and you know what they say, can’t get a second shot at a first impression.” Granted, it’s been a significant amount of time that he’s been living at the tower, but also Barnes didn’t seem to have a problem with it?
Plus, there was the additional problem of Barnes being, you know, the perfect make and model right off the Tony Stark Would Hit It assembly line, and did Barnes even know that was cool now to openly dig dudes?
“I get that you’re trying to be nice and I appreciate it and all, but I can take it.” Yeah, he could – Nope, nope, this is Cap’s closest, bestest friend, you will not taint him Anthony Edward Stark!
Forcing himself to return to the conversation at hand, he shook his head to physically dispel the inappropriate thoughts and said, “Alright, that’s fair, now that I know you’re cool with it, you’ll get the full Tony Stark touchy-feely-nickname experience, yeah?” Controlled, of course, because you would not be ready for –
“I can take ya, sweet thing.”
Jesus Christ, that fucking Brooklyn accent was going to kill him and – wait, is this fucker smoldering?
“You son of a bitch.”