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Bucky had just finished his workout and was craving ice cream. And you know what? He thinks to himself. I deserve this. Not only because of the workout, though there is always that, but also because he had just been hired to a new and shiny position.
He is paying for ice cream when he overhears a heated argument. Turning around Bucky spots a man with short cropped dark hair and a goatee and a girl sitting across from him. Bucky had never known someone could actually pull off a goatee and make it look good so color him surprised. There's something familiar about his face that's nagging at Bucky's memory but it's derailed as he tunes into the conversation.
“No! You’re just wrong Morgan; you’re absolutely wrong!” The man states behind tinted glasses, throwing his arms up with exasperation. Bucky tenses up and begins to make his way toward the pair in case he needs to intervene.
“Or maybe you just refuse to have an open mind about things!” The eight year old? Nine year old? Bucky hasn’t spent enough time around kids to know- rebuts, crossing her arms with a raise of her brow.
“STRAWBERRY ICE CREAM. IS NOT. ICE CREAM,” the man exclaims, clapping in between pauses to emphasize his point. Freezing, Bucky frowns in confusion and slowly begins to take in the pair of matching grins behind the raised voices. “The only time it is acceptable to eat strawberries as dessert is if they are whole and covered in chocolate. Not-“ the man’s face twists in distaste before his voice dropped to a whisper- “churned into ice cream.”
Before Bucky knows what he’s doing his mouth opens and he cuts in. “I dunno I have to side with the girl over here. Strawberry ice cream is the bomb.”
Bucky gulps as twin hazel eyes turn to blink at him. As Bucky opens his mouth to apologize for butting in the younger of the duo says, “I. Am not. A girl” The venom in her voice could curdle milk.
“What my hell-spawn here is trying to say is she is, and I quote here, ‘a noble entity of ambiguous gender.' I honestly don’t know where she comes up with this stuff.” The father (Bucky assumes he’s the dad) wears a soft, fond smile that belies his teasing tone. The man’s companion beams from across the table before turning to Bucky again. “I will grant you clemency in this one instance since you have excellent taste in ice cream,” the kid says with solemnity and a nod of the head. After a pause she adds, “And because today I do feel more like a girl.”
Relieved that he didn’t insult her Bucky grins and gives a bow. “Thank you for your generosity, noble entity of ambiguous gender.”
At his words the girl’s face lights up and she drags him to the booth she is sitting in. “I like you. You should eat your ice cream with us before it melts. I’m Morgan! This is my dad, Tony!” Bucky’s brain whirls with the speed of Morgan’s speech but, with a glance to Tony and receiving a nod and smile in response, Bucky slips into the booth.
As he lifts his arm to take another lick of his ice cream he hears a gasp. Bucky barely restrains himself from lashing out instinctively when a small hand unexpectedly grabs his wrist. Instead he freezes, holding his breath as his body nearly vibrates from the spike in adrenaline.
“Daddy look! He has a ROBOT arm!” the girl exclaims her eyes burning with excitement. A debilitating mixture of dread and shame washes over him as Bucky continues to sit still despite a voice in his head shouting for him to flee.
“Morgan!” Tony barks harshly before pulling her hand firmly away from Bucky. As his arm is released Bucky furtively tugs his sleeve back down so it is tucked back into his glove. He's never so careless as to let his sleeve ride up like that. His brain feels like a hive with a swarm of bees buzzing frantically through it and he gets ready to bolt when he tunes back into the heated conversation before him.
“We’ve talked about this honey! You can’t touch people without their permission and you can’t talk about their body parts!” Tony holds his daughter in a white-knuckled grip as he speaks urgently to her, barely contained fear clouding his eyes. Bucky feels a rush of guilt surge through his chest. He doesn't know what his face looked like when Morgan grabbed him but he bets it was terrifying. He moves to slip out of the booth like a dog with his tail between his legs when he catches the girl's response.
“But daddy he’s part robot like you are! And like U and Dummy!” Wondering vaguely why the girl just said "you" twice and what she means in reference to her father Bucky watches as Morgan tilts her head and furrows her brow in confusion. “You always say that being part robot makes you cooler than boring non-robots.”
At her father’s long sigh Morgan’s shoulders and head droop. “I did it again, didn’t I daddy?” she sniffed. “I’m sorry!” As Morgan throws herself in her father’s arms with a sob the man shushes her. "You have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart, I know you're trying." As he speaks Tony looks up and jolts in surprise to see Bucky still sitting there.
Visibly regathering his composure as he rubs his daughter’s back in soothing circles Tony meets Bucky’s eyes. “I’m really sorry,” he remarks softly. “I’m still teaching her some social skills. It’s taking her a bit longer than others her age." At this point Bucky’s heart has regained its regular pace and the need to flee is overtaken with a drive to comfort the sobbing girl.
“Hey, it’s okay, she’s a kid,” he shrugs, hoping it looks less like a grimace than it feels. “I saw how you reacted,” Tony states, his eyes piercing. “I know it’s hard not to respond. Thank you for stopping yourself.” Tony's cryptic words latch themselves into Bucky's brain, tugging at his curiosity. What did he see in Bucky's response? And how could he relate to it? Bucky watches Tony nervously tap his chest as he speaks and wonders further what his daughter meant about being part robot.
Despite his instincts still screaming at him to escape before the duo before him realize what a mess he is, Bucky can't help but be drawn to them. The urgency to uncover the layers of the man before him is all encompassing. Forcibly reigning himself in, Bucky turns to the girl who is s curled meekly into her father, a shadow of the bubbly girl he met only minutes ago. That wasn’t right, Bucky thinks with a vehemence that surprises himself.
Wetting his lips nervously and shrinking in an effort to look less intimidating Bucky asks gently, “Who’s Dummy?” Morgan peers up at him from behind her bangs. He fights from squirming uncomfortably at the twin gazes turned to him.
“Dummy is one of Daddy’s robots,” Morgan explains tentatively. “He makes all sorts of them but Dummy is his favorite.”
“Lies and blasphemy,” Tony declares, bumping his shoulder with his daughter and giving her an affectionate grin. Beaming back up to her father Morgan turns back to Bucky and leans across the table, her enthusiasm rippling out of her in waves. Bucky tilts himself closer to the girl as she whispers smugly, “It’s true-Daddy just likes to pretend he’s gonna sell him for scraps but he never would.” Finishing her secret with a solemn nod, Morgan returns to her position by her dad, snuggling back into his side.
“Don’t worry-your secret’s safe with me,” Bucky promises with a wink. Then realizing he never introduced himself he adds, “I’m Bucky by the way.” He goes to take a lick of his ice cream before it completely melts all over his hand when Morgan exclaims, “You should date my dad!”
In his shock Bucky next finds himself with more ice cream on his face than in his mouth. Jumping up, Tony grabs some napkins and begins frantically wiping the ice cream off his face. “I am SO sorry,” he babbles, before turning back to his daughter and adding with a bit of hysteria, “We’ve talked about this hun; you can’t just suggest that to random strangers!”
Turning back to Bucky Tony freezes as he realizes how close they are. Their eyes meet and Bucky finds himself falling into the man’s warm eyes before greedily tracking the other man’s tongue as he nervously licks his lips. Abruptly, Tony breaks eye contact and retreats to his side of the table. “Sorry about that,” he says, raking a hand through his hair with a sheepish grin and a forced laugh. “She can be a bit over-enthusiastic and just assumes everyone wants to date me.”
Rolling her eyes as only a child who thinks they know infinitely more than their parent can, Morgan responds crossly, “Well it’s not that you have that many great qualities Dad but you gotta give it a try. Besides-“ and at this she turns to Bucky and leans in closer like she’s confiding something juicy- “Assuming that everyone is seeking a relationship with the opposite gender perpetuates the concept that heterosexuality is the norm and default of the general populace.”
As Morgan leans back, her eyes filled with a fire he has rarely seen in his life, Bucky blinks dumbly. “How old are you again?” he asks dubiously.
“I’ll be 8 in 2 months," the 7 year said with pride. At this admission Bucky’s jaw drops. He knew maybe half of those words, if that, at her age. Turning to Tony to say so, he watches the man scrub his face tiredly. “I’m sorry- I don’t know where she gets these ideas,” he says with a nervous chuckle.
The 7 year old turns to look at her dad in confusion. “What do you mean dad? You're the one who told me that when you were yelling at the tv that night after drinking your adult juice,” Morgan says matter of factly, poking him in the chest.
At her words Tony thumps his head onto the table in defeat. “I promise I’m not a horrible father. Please don’t report me,” he says into the table miserably.
Stifling a laugh at the picture before him Bucky shrugs. “What for? Sounds like you’re preaching the right kind of stuff to your kid." Ignoring the affronted voice stating, “I’m not a kid!” Tony peaks his face off the table warily and Bucky's mirth disappears. He recognizes that look; he's seen it in his own mirror too many times. It’s one that speak of distrust, of fear, of shame, and of barely flickering hope. It is the expression of someone who has learned that a closet is the safest place to live.
Bucky meets his gaze unflinchingly and hopes that whatever crosses his face reassures the other man. Tony’s gaze sharpens as they assess each other silently and soon Bucky watches the tension slowly drain from his frame. Shaking himself as though he had just stumbled through a series of cobwebs, Tony straightens and recovers his easy-going smirk. It’s in that moment that Bucky realizes how much of Tony’s body language is carefully calculated and planned. A sudden urge to strip this mask from him and discover the man beneath grips Bucky violently.
Tony lets loose a chuckle before saying with forced flippancy, “Well if my hellspawn doesn’t make you run for the hills I better put a ring on it before you realize how crazy we are.” Bucky feels his heart skip a beat at the remark clearly meant to ease the awkwardness and tensity that had grown between them.
Shrugging his shoulders with an attempt at nonchalance Bucky responds, “Well I do happen to be single.” He watches with satisfaction as Tony’s mouth drops open before he quickly closes it and straightens up. “Then may I ask you for your number? For a chance to meet up without a plus one?”
Working hard and most likely unsuccessfully to tame his grin just a little, Bucky brandishes his phone to trade numbers. He watches as small hands grab it before speedily typing on it. “I’m putting my dad’s number under anti-strawberry ice cream devil so you’ll remember who he is,” the 9 year old explains helpfully as she returns the phone. “Trust me, there’s no way I'll forget who he is,” Bucky smiles, quickly typing a message. Tony pulls out his phone as it buzzes and blushes adorably once he reads what’s written.
With a wink that looks way cooler than Bucky feels, he gives his goodbyes and exits the shop. Chest filling with an emotion he can’t quite put a finger on but which he could dare to call hope, Bucky ambles back to his car before freezing. He just realized why Tony looked so familiar. Bucky starts working at Stark Tower tomorrow; he just got asked out by Tony fucking Stark.