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Jim is a worrier.
Or, no, that's not entirely true. He's an analytical, strategical thinker—some might even say an overthinker—and while that has helped him immensely in school and in furthering his career, it also comes with a lot of worrying.
About anything and everything, no matter how important or trivial it might be. But especially about the people he loves.
It had made him an anxious kid, always picturing all the worst case scenarios in any given situation, until he’d realised that it worked the other way around, too. That there were always at least as many positive possible outcomes as negative ones, and that imagining those was a lot more fun.
That had helped, and he’s learned not to let his mind go to the darker places unless doing so is actually useful, but sometimes, his resolve gets tested to its limits.
By Tony, mostly.
Case in point: Tony and Barnes.
Jim has been friends with Tony for the better part of thirty years, and by now, he can very confidently tell when Tony is in love with someone. Or, unfortunately, when he’s lusting after someone, which Jim dearly wishes he couldn’t, but which is also how this current bout of Worrying About Tony™ had started.
Now, Jim is about as straight as a person can be—tested a couple of times by drunkenly making out with his best friend, which Tony loves to bring up whenever it’s really inappropriate to do so—but he has no problem admitting that, objectively speaking, Barnes is an attractive guy. He’s got that whole gruff, frowny, bad boy thing a lot of people are into going on, but whenever he actually does smile, it’s devastating.
One time, Jim had seen a girl on the street do a double-take and nearly walk into a magazine stand after Barnes had smiled at one of Tony’s dumb jokes.
Jim hadn’t thought much of it once he’d figured out that Tony was crushing on Barnes, because Tony tends to get crushes a lot. Barnes was good looking, they seemed to get along really well, so it hadn’t been a huge surprise when Tony started mentioning him more and more often. Jim could’ve done without the odes to the ‘deliciously thick’ thighs of James Buchanan Barnes, but, again; thirty years of friendship.
Tony being head over heels in love with Barnes, though? That had definitely gotten Jim’s attention.
And now that he knows, Jim feels a little foolish that he hadn’t noticed it earlier. Because, really, Tony wouldn’t know subtlety if it hit him in the face, and, surprisingly, Barnes isn’t much better, either.
In the last week alone, Jim has found them cuddling—or sleeping on each other—on four separate occasions, seen them holding hands during movie night, and had Tony ask for a rain check on their bi-weekly Sunday brunch in order to whisk Barnes away across the country for a special, one-day event at some tiny little planetarium Jim has no idea how Tony even found out about.
All of which could be explained away as Tony being Tony. It’s not as if Jim has never been on the receiving end of Tony’s often entirely platonic but very physical affection, and they still get mistaken for a couple every once in a while. No, if it were only Tony, Jim would’ve probably written it off, but it’s Barnes who helps him put all the pieces together.
Because Barnes is not like that. He’s polite and friendly with everyone else living in the tower, but he doesn’t go out of his way to socialise. Which, Jim figures, he can’t be blamed for, after everything he’s been put through, but it makes it all the more obvious that he’s behaving differently with and towards Tony.
Like right now, for example; not only has he shown up for breakfast on the communal floor—a rarity in and of itself—but he’s also letting a barely awake Tony lean against him, human arm curled tightly around his shoulders, and fingers almost absently running through the hair at the back of Tony’s neck while he eats his eggs.
It’s an easy, casual intimacy even Tony doesn’t have with a lot of people, and suddenly, Jim’s mind is in overdrive.
Because Tony’s track record with relationships is, frankly, disastrous, and that’s putting it mildly. He’s so eager to please, to be liked and loved, and also so easily hurt, although he’d never admit that much. Jim’s seen every romantic relationship Tony’s had since the age of fourteen end in heartbreak, has been the shoulder to lean on every time, and absolutely does not want to do it again.
He will, of course, no matter what, but Tony deserves so much better. He deserves everything.
And Jim will find out if Barnes is the one that can give it to him.
*
The perfect opportunity presents itself a few days later, when Tony’s away at a meeting, and Jim bumps into Barnes coming out of the tower gym. Barnes gives him a nod and goes to move past him towards the elevators, but stops when Jim says, “Hey, Barnes.”
And then Jim has to think fast, because he doesn’t actually have a plan, yet. “How about lunch?”
Barnes eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and yeah, that’s probably fair. It’s not like they’re buddies or anything.
But an idea is starting to form in Jim’s head, so he wheedles, “C’mon, I make a mean sandwich. And I happen to know that there are still some meatballs left over from last night. How about it?”
For a long, drawn out moment Jim thinks Barnes is going to say no. His face is doing something complicated, a slight frown that looks mostly confused, but then it clears and he nods. “Okay, sure. Lemme go grab a shower first?”
Barnes shows up just as Jim’s putting the finishing touches on their sandwiches, and settles at the table readily enough when Jim gestures at it. He brings over the plates, a bottle of water for himself, and a glass of milk for Barnes.
He grins at Barnes’ questioning look. “I whipped up some of my Mama’s special hot sauce. Let’s see if you can handle it, huh?”
Barnes either can, or he has an impeccable poker face.
They eat in not entirely comfortable silence, and Jim can tell it’s putting Barnes on edge. It’s a little bit of a dick move, Jim has to admit that much, so he doesn’t make him stew for too long. He fetches them both a beer, and waits until Barnes has taken a long drink to ask, “So, what are your intentions towards Tony?”
The way Barnes splutters, starts coughing, and turns a violent shade of red is incredibly gratifying.
“Look,” Jim says, grabbing and passing over a couple of tissues. “Tony’s a grown man who can take care of himself. Well, mostly. But he’s also my best friend, and that won’t ever change. I love that idiot, you know?”
Barnes nods, wide-eyed, wiping at the beer on his shirt.
“And it’s easy to see that you do, too—”
“It is?” Barnes groans, and puts his face in his hands. “Didn’t think I was bein’ that obvious.”
Jim can’t help but laugh softly at that. “You really are, man. No, hey,” he says quickly, when Barnes groans again, sounding pained. “Come on, it’s not a bad thing.”
Barnes peeks at him through his fingers. “It isn’t?”
“Why would it be?” Jim asks, and reaches out to tentatively squeeze Barnes’ shoulder. “What I want for Tony is to be happy. And you seem to be doing a great job so far at making that happen.”
It’s only as he says it that Jim realises he actually, truly means it. And that’s the most important thing, in the end, isn’t it? That Tony’s happy with whoever he chooses to be with? And that he has Jim to kick their ass in case they don’t treat him right, of course. But that’s a given.
“You really think so?” Barnes asks, now looking at Jim, nervously chewing at his bottom lip. “That I could be good for ‘im?”
“I really do think so, yes,” Jim says, and gives Barnes another encouraging pat before pulling his hand back. “You clearly care deeply for him, and you’re worried about being good enough. That’s already more than most of his exes brought to the table, trust me.”
That gets the tiniest, pleased smile out of Barnes, so Jim continues, “And he obviously feels the same way about you, so—”
“Wha—what? He does?” Barnes stutters out, making Jim frown.
“Well, yes? Seriously, Barnes, you’re good together—”
“We’re not, though,” Barnes interrupts, face flaming again. “Together. We’re not.”
And that.
Well. That’s.
“Shit,” Jim breathes out, suddenly feeling cold all over. “Shit, I thought—Barnes, listen—”
But Barnes is already pushing back his chair, getting up awkwardly, jerkily shaking his head. “It’s—I gotta. Go. I hafta go.”
And with that, he bolts.
Jim sits there, frozen, for what feels like half an eternity, mind completely blank for once. Because out of all the things he’d pictured happening when confronting Barnes, this hadn’t even made the list. Because he’d never once, for even a second, considered that he might be wrong.
“Shit,” Jim says again, belatedly getting up as well. “Hey, JARVIS, is Tony back yet?”
Maybe he’ll get lucky and Tony’s still out. He could take one of the cars, go get him and take him out for a milkshake or something. Put him in a good mood with sugar before admitting that, hey, I accidentally confessed your feelings for Barnes to the man himself. Oops.
“Sir has arrived in his workshop half an hour ago.”
So much for that.
Jim gets one of the weird green smoothies Tony likes from the fridge—not as good a peace offering as a jumbo chocolate shake, but it’ll have to do—and quickly makes his way down to the workshop level, silently praying that Barnes is still freaking out somewhere, and not currently spilling everything Jim has stupidly blurted out to Tony.
That hope gets squashed as he approaches the ‘shop, and immediately spots both Barnes and Tony. He can’t hear what Barnes is saying through the glass wall, but he looks intense, pacing a little and gesturing wildly, while Tony watches him, biting at his thumbnail, a clear sign that he’s anxious.
But then Barnes stops in front of Tony, shoulders sagging, and rubs a hand over his head. He says something else, glancing down at his feet for a moment, before meeting Tony’s eyes, looking determined. Jim holds his breath, waiting, until a huge smile blooms on Tony’s face. Tony says something back, fingers reaching out to touch Barnes’, and it’s impossible to say who moves first after that, but then they’re kissing.
“Oh, thank fuck,” Jim says, startled when Barnes’ head snaps up at the sound.
Right. Supersoldier hearing.
He waves sheepishly at the two of them, slowly backing away.
Tony points a finger at him, and JARVIS pipes up with, “Sir would like you to know that you will be having words.”
Jim considers for a moment, then smirks, and says, “Tell him he’s welcome.”