Work Text:
Ache
Bucky’s rehabilitation was going along splendidly. Shuri had done the truly hard part, of course, removing all of the trigger words from deep in Bucky’s psyche, making him a new arm, helping him see that just because he remembered everything now, didn’t make him a monster for doing the things he remembered. Tony’s job was, by far, the easier one–He’d been glad-handing politicians since he was five when the politicians’ wives were cooing over his adorably tiny suit. Going over General Ross to get the Accords fixed was easy.
And okay, yeah, meeting with Bucky was… not as easy. Sure, Tony had put on a good show, but he’d known he couldn’t stop the trembling of his hand as he reached out for Bucky’s to shake it. The look Bucky had given him had been sad, but also understanding. Tony had honestly had a much more difficult time shaking Steve’s hand. He’d come to terms with the fact that Bucky hadn’t had a choice when it came to killing his parents, but… Steve had had a choice to tell him about it.
Things were okay now, though. Tony had worked with his therapist for an awfully long time coming to accept his feelings, and sometimes it was hard, but Bucky accepted his apologies readily when Tony had bad days and was snappish and jittery. Hell, Bucky had even come to some counseling sessions with him and they’d hashed some things out with help. Bucky had even asked Tony to help him integrate back into society.
And therein lied the rub.
Bucky was… he was handsome. Tony could admit that. And after his time in Wakanda, Bucky was… quiet. Pensive. But not in a bad way. It just made what he did say seem more poignant, more important–made his jokes all the more funny, because no one expected it. He wasn’t the lady’s man that Howard had described all those years ago, but he still had a charming smile, a quick wit when engaged. He was attentive and kind to the ladies he danced with at galas, the politicians wives and bored heiresses and sympathetic journalists.
Then Bucky had said, “You don’t have to set me up with just dames, you know? I’ll dance with fellas, too,” and Tony’s whole world came crashing down around his ears, because it was one thing to know that someone just wasn’t attracted to your gender, and quite another to know someone was, just… not into you specifically.
Of course, Tony understood. Bucky probably still had nightmares about Tony blasting his arm off. Tony had been angry, and Bucky had said he’d been right to be angry, but… Tony had never committed cold-blooded murder in his life, only killed in self-defense. He was ashamed of trying to kill Bucky, no matter how much his therapist and Bucky himself tried to convince him that his feelings and desires at the time were valid, even if his actions hadn’t necessarily been.
Still. Watching Bucky allow himself to be led out of the gala by a pretty blonde, or a handsome redhead, or a sultry brunet, it… it hurt. More than a little. Especially when he was the one who had set Bucky up to begin with. And now the other Avengers had cottoned on and gave him sad, sympathetic eyes whenever it happened. God. Even Wanda had offered to ease his pain. How bad must he have looked for that? What was worse, was that he had no choice but to stay at the galas as the other Avengers peeled off; as the host, he was expected to stay to some ungodly hour trying to get donations, villains permitting. So he didn’t even have the solace of going home and sulking into a bottle after watching Bucky and his date leave.
It was starting to affect him personally now. He was getting waspish and snappy and mean. Even Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey weren’t safe, on the receiving ends of snarls and bitching and maudlin, drunken phone calls.
So when Bucky came up to him at the next gala, asking who his date for the night was, Tony laughed a little too loudly and said, “Oh my God, Bucky, I totally forgot! I’m so sorry!”
Bucky looked surprised, and totally confused, and perhaps even a little hurt. “Oh. Okay. I guess I’ll just… stick to Steve tonight…”
“You can dance with me,” Natasha offered, but it sounded more like an order.
Tony watched as Bucky obediently took her arm and led her onto the dance floor. He understood that, though. Natasha was… terrifying.
“You can’t keep doing this, Tony,” Steve said softly.
Tony whipped back toward him, scowling, ready to tell Steve where he could stuff it because Bucky might be his best friend but–
“This isn’t fair to you,” Steve added before he could say anything at all, and he deflated immediately. “I appreciate you helping Bucky, Tony. I do. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to convey how grateful I am. But you shouldn’t help at your own expense. You shouldn’t have to keep hurting like this.”
“Shut up,” Tony answered immediately, because he knew Steve was right but he didn’t want to acknowledge that. “I’m going to eat all of the little smokies before you can get to them.”
Steve gasped, hurt, and then rolled his eyes in amusement. It was… almost like before. That hurt too, so Tony skittered away, and avoided the rest of the Avengers for the rest of the night, except for one dance with Wanda where she just looked at him as if she was observing a science experiment, and then mentioned calling Mantis and asking if she’d ever sensed such pain in a single person before. Tony resolved to avoid her for the rest of his life. Having her… worry about him was… weird.
So he shouldn’t have been too surprised when Bucky came to find him to say goodbye. He’d done that before Tony had started finding dates for him. Tony had always thought it was nice. Now he wished Bucky would just leave him alone.
“Hey,” Bucky said gently, hands curling around the balcony rail as he came to a stop beside him. “Thor and I are going to head out.”
“Yep, mm hmm. Good,” Tony added belatedly when Bucky turned to frown at him in concern. “I know you guys hate these things. Sorry again about forgetting about your date.”
“Wanda… told me not to expect anymore dates in the future,” Bucky said slowly, testing.
God damn it, Wanda. He was going to get Pepper to figure that out for him. Bucky had looked sad when Tony had forgotten. He was trying to avoid that. (He did not think about how she probably thought she was helping him, and how wretched he must have looked for her to want to do that. It was probably better that way.)
“I can–figure something out,” Tony said after some thought. He would. It would just take a little extra time.
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Bucky told him softly. “It’s okay. I think I can find my own dates now.”
“That would be even worse,” Tony answered immediately, staring out into the gardens.
Bucky stared at him, brows furrowing together. “What-? What the hell does that even mean?!”
“I think it’s best you go in the car with the others instead of with me and Steve from now on,” Tony said, studiously not looking at him.
“Wha–why!? That’s not fair!” Bucky exclaimed angrily. “You’ve never had a problem with it before! Why now? I thought we were okay!”
“We are okay,” Tony tried to insist, but even he knew it fell flat.
“Clearly we’re not,” Bucky said darkly. “Tell me why.”
Tony thought about staying silent, but Bucky had proved himself just as stubborn as Steve. He’d just stay until he got an answer, or until someone inevitably attacked New York. The odds of an attack were slim since they’d recently had a visit from Loki, and most human villains were reluctant to attack because one time Loki had turned Natasha into an octo-mermaid and she’d been able to hold eight more guns, which even Tony could admit was terrifying.
So he finally turned to Bucky and said, “I can’t watch you with someone else. I tried so hard, but I can’t do it anymore. It’s tearing me apart.”
Bucky opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Tony offered him a smile, but he couldn’t keep it up for long, so he looked away, arms curling around himself protectively. “I–I need to go see to my guests. Have a good night.”
Bucky didn’t call him back. Tony didn’t know why he’d hoped he would. He continued back into the gala. He figured he’d tell Pepper he was sad and she’d let him mope on her for the rest of the night. (He was right. She gave him sad eyes and said ‘I’m proud of you for telling him’ and then they swayed back and forth on the dance floor for a few hours after finishing off a bottle of champagne by themselves. That was nice.)
So when he stumbled back to the tower after the gala, he was very surprised when Bucky grabbed him by the collar as soon as he stepped off the elevator and dragged him into the common room. “Ack!”
“You don’t get to just tell me that you can’t set me up on dates with people because it’s tearing you apart and then leave,” Bucky hissed. “So, what, if I started dating someone of my own volition, you’d just ignore me?”
“I’m allowed to protect my heart,” Tony answered shakily, repeating what his therapist had been telling him for ages, but it almost came out as a question. “I wouldn’t ignore you, I… I’d just… avoid you entirely. Until it didn’t hurt so much.”
Something twisted in Bucky’s expression for a moment before his face went back to a stern mask. “And if it never stopped hurting?”
Tony looked down at the floor, wishing it would swallow him up. It didn’t. “It wouldn’t,” he whispered, shoulders sagging. “It wouldn’t stop hurting. But Iron Man was born out of a broken heart. It would be okay. I would be okay. Eventually, anyway.”
Bucky stared at him for a long time before very slowly asking, “You’d be in pain, but you’d be okay?”
“It’s kind of how my entire life has gone,” Tony explained, offering him a self-deprecating smile. “I just want you to be happy. And if it takes someone else to do that… that’s fine.”
“That’s crazy. I could never do that,” Bucky told him seriously.
Tony shrugged. Yeah. A lot of people had said that. “You deserve to be a little greedy after all you’ve been through.”
Bucky tilted his head. “Is that permission?”
Tony nearly blanched. He didn’t want Bucky to think he needed his permission to date. But sometimes he did need permission, for the weirdest things. Hydra had twisted him up inside. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t untwist everything they’d done. So Tony nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”
“Then I’m going to be as greedy as I want,” Bucky said.
Tony didn’t have a chance to do more than yelp when Bucky used the grip on his collar to haul him in for a kiss. He squirmed at first, but Bucky’s kiss was hard, and demanding, and warm, and Tony was tired, so all he could do was sink against him, letting out needy mewls as the other man wrapped his arms around him as if he feared Tony would try to escape.
Tony wouldn’t, though. He’d never really had any sense of self-preservation, anyway.