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It started with the gold.
Bucky wrote it off as some time of rich person excess, the way Tony would carefully inlay gold in everything that he made for the team. Natasha’s Bites, Clint’s arrows, even Thor’s magical hammer received thin gold lines in their handles. Bruce’s Hulk pants had gold threads and the strap of Steve’s shield was embroidered with the same.
Even Bucky himself, arguably not an Avenger, was given a gun with the most delicate gold work he had ever seen, gorgeous and totally unnecessary. It was a gun; it didn’t need to be pretty so long as it worked.
His confusion wasn’t shared by the rest of the team, though. They’d probably written it off as a Tony quirk years ago and none of them complained when, before galas and parties, Tony would press gold jewelry into their hands with a soft smile. Bucky thought it was a weird, sure, but if it made Tony happy, he’d wear the cufflinks.
He was just confused as to why .
It could have been a sugar daddy thing, he reasoned, as out of character as the idea felt. Maybe it was just a way of flaunting his wealth? He’d written off some of his more absurd ideas as the product of too many fantasy novels. None of the reasoning Bucky could come up with made any sense. Short of asking Tony, he resigned himself to never knowing.
Still, there was something about it that seemed a little off to him. Nothing Bucky could put a name to, but there was a gold flare in Tony’s eyes, sometimes, that matched the gold he handed out like candy that Bucky didn’t understand. It was probably just a trick of the light.
So it started with the gold.
There were also all the weird comments Tony made sometimes, just on the wrong side of mundane. Bucky caught him, once, on the roof in nothing but a t-shirt and jeans, the wind ruffling his hair and raising goosebumps on even Bucky’s skin.
“You okay, Tony?” he asked cautiously. There was something in Tony’s eyes; not quite the longing to jump, but a different look he couldn’t fathom.
Tony jolted, as if shaken from a stupor. “Fine,” he answered, almost wistful. “Just thinking about flying. It’s been awhile since I really got the chance to, you know?”
“You flew yesterday, though,” Bucky pointed out. They had battled some kind of robot, and with Thor off-world, Tony had been their aerial support, flipping and tumbling through the air as if he was born to it.
“It’s not the same,” Tony shook his head, smiling. “The suit is wonderful, but there’s just something about really, truly flying that takes your breath away. I’ll have to take you sometime. I have some land upstate that’s perfect for it.”
Bucky assumed he meant an airfield, or something like that, and nodded. “I’d like that,” he answered honestly. He loved modern flight, especially with Tony. The times he had hitched a ride to a battle clinging to Tony’s suit were some of his favorite memories.
“We should go inside,” Tony said after a beat of silence. “You don’t want to catch a cold.”
He cast one last look at the clouds and Bucky finally identified his expression. It was longing.
However it started, though, it ended with the fire.
It was supposed to be a routine battle, the kind the Avengers could handle with their hands tied, but something had gone wrong in what Bucky would surely find funny later, if the team made it out okay.
In a comedy of errors, the combined incompetence of the two-bit villains and their idiot henchmen that they were fighting had managed to cause a fire that was rapidly engulfing the buildings around them. It was becoming overwhelming, the smoke tickling Bucky’s lungs even from his sniper’s perch.
“Fall back!” Steve ordered, coughing slightly. Next to him, Natasha had one of the villains trussed up and was dragging him away. Scanning the area, Bucky watched as the rest of his teammates made their way to safety. He packed up his guns and equipment in record time; the fires were dangerously large now.
A flash of gold caught Bucky’s eye, like always. Iron Man was flying sluggishly, repulsors cutting in and out. His suit was stained with soot. Bucky watched as he landed gingerly, right as his boot repulsor gave in.
“Roger that,” he huffed, clanking slowly down the sidewalk. “I need a drink. Stupid fucking villains and their stupid fucking incompetence. Make that two drinks, actually.”
“Count me in,” Bucky said, climbing down from his perch. In the distance, he could hear the sirens of the fire engines. “After I sleep for a couple of days.”
Tony barked out a laugh. “Sounds like a plan, Snowflake,” he said.
Bucky saw it too late and was too far away to help. While Tony was distracted, alternately cursing out the villains' stupidity and grumbling about his own broken suit, a man had snuck up on him. He held up his absurdly large gun (probably, Bucky reasoned, compensating for poor life choices, among other things), took aim at Tony, and fired.
“ Tony! ” Bucky screamed as Iron Man flew into the fire. The suit was completely engulfed; Bucky couldn’t even see one gauntleted hand.
He took off sprinting, dropping his weapons to move faster. He knew that Tony, unenhanced and in a broken suit, couldn’t survive being on fire for very long,. If at all…
Bucky shut that thought down with a vengeance. Tony was fine. He had to be.
Before he could get to the burning building that Tony had been thrown into, an earth-shaking roar sounded from the flames. It sounded almost triumphant as it burst free, buoyed on flaming wings. Bucky almost collapsed in shock. Sure, he’d heard whispers from HYDRA, but he’d never in his wildest dreams thought that dragons were still around.
“Now,” the dragon rumbled, voice like knives on stone. “That was just rude .”
He landed gently in front of the trembling villain, cocking his massive head. Firelight glinted off of gleaming red scales, shot through with golden highlights like the armor. Arc reactor blue eyes shone with intelligence right above the absolutely lethal set of teeth.
And then there were the wings .
They were flared to their full size, the clawed ends sharper than any of Bucky’s knives. Bucky finally understood what Tony had said about flight, so long ago; if he had wings like that, he wasn’t sure any metal contraption could compare.
Bucky knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help himself. Tony Stark- and there was no doubt that that was him- was a dragon .
Tony delicately snuffed a flame with his front foot. “Care to surrender?” he asked the man in front of him.
It was almost comical how fast the fight was over after that.
Bucky was freaking out a little bit, if he was being honest. He was standing stock-still, staring up at Tony, when the other Avengers and the fire department reached them. Clint took one look at him and patted his arm sympathetically.
“I had the same reaction,” he said, watching as Tony helped the firefighters with the hoses. “He’s a really ugly dragon.”
“No, he isn’t!” Bucky protested immediately. It was true; Tony was possible the most gorgeous animal he’d ever seen. “Look at him, how can you possibly think-” He broke off at Clint’s snickers. “Shut up.”
“Good to know your pathetic pining hasn’t changed,” Clint clapped his arm again. “Go get him, tiger.”
Bucky flipped him off. He made his way over to where Tony, still as a dragon, was talking to Steve. Steve didn’t look surprised by the reveal, and neither did any other of the scrambled Avengers. Bucky was pretty sure he was the only one who wasn’t in the know, which stung a little.
As he approached, Tony’s head snapped up to look at him. Steve caught where his gaze was going and whistled in amusement.
“We’ll meet you back at the Tower,” Bucky heard him tell Tony quietly.
“Don’t leave me alone, you asshole-” Tony called after Steve, who was already speeding away. “And he’s gone. Hello, Bucky.”
“You’re a… you’re a…” Bucky stuttered, speechless in the face of the dragon.
Tony huffed out a ring of smoke from his nostrils. “And it appears we’re doing this now,” he muttered to himself. “Grab a claw, will you?”
Without thinking, Bucky grabbed one of Tony’s outstretched claws. Carefully, so as not to cut him, but quickly, to not let Bucky get away, Tony scooped him up and took off. The sudden flight sent Bucky’s stomach to his toes and part of him, remembering fairytales as a child, wondered if the dragon was taking him to his tower. That would’ve made Bucky the princess though, which was where the metaphor fell apart in his head. He focused instead on not falling.
Before he knew it, they were landing on an undamaged rooftop. Tony dropped him lightly, beating his wings once more to give Bucky some space as he came down.
Bucky paced back and forth, mind whirling. He could feel Tony’s patient eyes on him, waiting.
Well, not that patient. “Mind if I shift back?” Tony broke the silence somewhat awkwardly. “My nose is itchy and I really don’t want to scratch it with a claw and take half of my scales off. You’d think I’d have figured out how to do it by now, but-”
“Sure,” Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose. This was his life now: listening to dragons complain about itchy noses.
“Ah, that’s better,” Tony’s voice was less gravelly, quieter, as he returned to his human form. He was clad only in his flight suit, stained with ashes from head to toe. His hair blew in the wind in unruly curls. He looked normal , except for the ring of gold in his irises.
Giving in to his whirling emotions, Bucky marched right up to Tony and kissed him soundly on the mouth. “That,” he panted. ‘Is for making me think you were dead.”
Tony gawked, clearly speechless. Bucky refused to believe that he was surprised; unless Tony was the most oblivious person in the world, Bucky’s feelings hadn’t exactly been subtle. Then he remembered that Tony was , in fact, the most oblivious person in the world. As much as he wanted to kiss Tony again and make him see, he had bigger issues to deal with.
“And that ,” he said, punching Tony (lightly) in the arm. “Is for everything else.”
Tony visibly rebooted his brain. “I’m confused,” he said finally. “Very confused.”
“You’re a dragon ?” Bucky nearly shouted.
Tony had the grace to look a little chagrined. “I figured you knew!” he said. “I don’t exactly hide it! Come on, the gold, the flying, you didn’t even suspect ?”
“I thought you were just rich and weird!” Bucky threw up his hands. “Why would I have immediately jumped to dragon ?”
“I…” Tony deflated.
“Come on!” Bucky was on a roll. “The future is so weird, I probably should’ve expected the fella I’m sweet on to be a dragon. I mean, I fight magical and occasionally stupid crime next to people dressed in fancy spandex and a flying robot. Oh, and a god. Dragons are the least weird thing on that list. Right?”
Tony looked like he was lost again. “Fella you’re sweet on?” he repeated, voice a high squeak.
Bucky was too worn out to be embarrassed. “I literally kissed you,” he said dryly.
“And the dragon thing… you don’t mind?” Tony stepped a little closer, radiating heat.
“I mean, you need to brush your teeth before I kiss you again, because dragon breath , but no, doll,” the nickname slipped out, but it felt right. He smiled down at Tony. “I don’t mind.”
Tony batted his eyelashes, smiling coyly. “Well, then,” he purred. “Care to let the big bad dragon steal you away to his tower?”
Bucky barked out a laugh. It was like Tony had read his mind. He held out a hand and motioned for Tony to transform. “Steal away, doll.”