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James Buchnan “Bucky” Barnes was no stranger to nightmares. It was routine at this point in his life to wake up in a cold sweat, scrambling for a weapon to protect himself from whatever attack he knew was coming. Tonight though, tonight was a bit different.
He still shot up in bed, panicked and shivering, but instead of moving to attack, he curled his knees to his chest and shrunk back against the headboard, looking around wildly for danger. It was dark! He couldn’t see! His room in Stark Tower seemed to loom ominously, every shape in the dark a bad guy lying in wait. He felt small, and scared, and so so alone!
This wasn’t exactly a new feeling. After he pulled Steve from the Potomac and went on the run, every once in a while if he was too stressed, or overwhelmed, or had a particularly bad nightmare, this would happen. The world would grow fuzzy around the edges and he’d go from feeling like a 6 foot something grown man to a tiny, terrified little boy. He knew logically that he was still a grown man, it was his mind playing tricks on him, but that didn’t make it feel any less real.
It hadn’t happened since Steve had found him and brought him back to the tower around two months ago. He thought he’d gotten over it, was stronger than this now, and the thought of being wrong about that had tears pricking the corner of his eyes. He was so weak, and stupid, and scared.
He rallied himself. It was dark, and he was scared, but he didn’t have to stay here in the dark. Last time he was in the communal kitchen he remembered seeing some hot cocoa mix. And everybody knew hot cocoa helps make monsters go away.
Mind made up, he marched himself down to the kitchen. It was only when he got to the doorway and saw that the lights were already on did he consider the possibility that someone might already be there.
Sure enough, there was Tony Stark, puttering around the kitchen making a pot of coffee. James stopped in the doorway, indecisive. Retreat back to his room or stay and risk discovery? He didn’t know the man very well, having only interacted a handful of times, and he didn’t know if he could act normal right now. What if Tony realized something was wrong? What if--
The choice was taken out of his hands when Tony turned and noticed him, startling.
“Oh! Hey there Terminator. Don’t sneak up on me like that. I’ve got a bad heart, you know.”
James ducked his head, trying not to fidget. “...sorry.”
Tony waved away his apology. “Well, don’t just stand there. Come, sit down, Welcome to the insomnia party. You want coffee? I’m making coffee.”
James carefully made his way to one of the stools at the island Tony indicated, shaking his head at the offer of coffee. Tony shrugged.
“More for me.” James was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to drink that amount of caffeine, especially at, he glanced at the clock, 3 am, but he kept those thoughts to himself.
The other man continued to ramble about coffee, then whatever project he was working on, and James let the sound wash over him. His shoulders lost some of their tension, even if he had to concentrate really hard on not hugging himself, or rocking, or giggling when Tony made a particularly large gesture or said something silly. He was an adult, goddamnit, and adults could sit still for two minutes, and they definitely did not giggle.
Distracted as he was, he didn’t notice the other man finishing up until he pushed himself up from the counter, announcing, “well this has been a lovely chat, but I should get back to work. A genius’s work is never done, ya know?”
All at once, the calm that had washed over him vanished. At the thought of being alone with his thoughts once more, James’s whole body tensed, thrown into panic mode. He knew, logically, that he’d be fine, that there was no danger in the tower, but that logic had no hold.
Tony, of course, noticed the abrupt change in his conversation partner, but didn’t bring attention to it, bless him. Instead he asked, casual as anything, “you wanna join me? The bots could use the company, and god knows I probably could too.”
It was a paper-thin attempt to make it seem like the offer was for Tony’s benefit, but James appreciated it nonetheless. Anything was better than Steve’s soft, concerned look and the quiet way he said “you alright, Buck?”, like any sound above a whisper might break him. He hated that voice.
James dipped his head, shooting the man an appreciative look as he stood. Tony motioned him to follow so he trailed after the other man, feeling a bit like a lost puppy. As they stepped onto the elevator, Tony resumed his rambling, talking about his newest ideas for updates to the team’s gear. James relaxed back into it, the stream of information loosening the tension in his shoulders. He still felt floaty and small, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. He should probably pull himself out of it, though. If he tried super hard…
Then the elevator doors dinged open, and the idea of returning to normal vanished from his mind. Tony’s lab was so cool. He’d been in there before to get maintenance done on his arm, but feeling like he was right now, it was like seeing it with brand-new eyes.
Tony caught onto his wide-eyed excitement, and gave him a quick tour, explaining this and that as he went. James immediately fell in love with the bots, and was absolutely mesmerized by the holograms. By the end of it, he was having a hard time remembering why he couldn’t bounce around, babbling excitedly about all the cool stuff he saw.
Finally, Tony brought him to a beat up little couch in the corner. “Go ahead, make yourself comfy. There’s a pillow and blankets there if you wanna nap, and if you’re bored you can play fetch with DUM-E, or ask JARVIS for things to do. Fair warning I’ll probably forget you exist, so if you wanna leave you can just go, or poke me or something.”
The other man quickly lost focus, wandering off while muttering to himself about god-knows-what. James sat himself down, wiggling around to get himself comfortable. His fingers brushed the softest thing he’d swear he’d ever felt, and latched on. He brought the object up to his face. It was a blanket, the softest, coziest blanket in existence he was sure. He rubbed his face on it, cat-like, then stilled, realizing that that wasn’t very adult-y behavior, and Tony could see, and that would be bad.
But then DUM-E beeped inquiringly, holding out a red ball, and James’s resolve faltered. Just for a couple minutes, he decided, then back to being an adult.
~~~
Tony wasn’t sure how long it had been since he’d brought Barnes down to his lab. At least an hour, maybe two. He could get sucked into engineering binges for hours and hours at a time, but he knew it hadn’t been that long by the amount of caffeine he could still feel in his system.
He sat up from the circuit board he’d been hunched over, stretching his back. He figured he should probably check on his guest, make sure the man didn’t need anything. He turned towards the couch, ready to start rambling away, but it was empty. Tony frowned. Maybe he had been deeper into his binge than he thought and Barnes had left without him noticing? He opened his mouth to ask JARVIS about it when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
Turning, he saw Barnes, sat cross legged on the floor only a couple meters from the couch, Tony’s favorite blanket draped over his shoulders. He was facing half away from Tony, so he could only see his profile, but the man had the largest, most joyful smile Tony had ever seen on him. Barnes’s smiles were small and infrequent, each one feeling like a fragile gift, one that would break if you poked it too hard.
But this, this was something else entirely. It warmed Tony from the inside out to see that smile, even on a man he’d only interacted with a handful of times. Barnes needed more of those kinds of smiles, he decided. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make that happen, but Tony was nothing if not a planner, he’d figure it out.
He watched, fascinated, as DUM-E rolled over, his favorite ball held in his claw. He dropped it in Barnes’s lap and Barnes threw it for him, a sloppy, uncoordinated throw much below the abilities of a sniper and ex-assassin. DUM-E went barreling after it.
Tony didn’t know if he’d made a sound, or if Barnes had simply felt his eyes on him, but whatever it was, it made him turn and meet his eyes.
The joyful grin Tony had just been admiring crumpled.
Panic filled his eyes, and they began darting around, looking for some method of escape. His breathing became shallower, more ragged. A panic attack.
Tony acted on instinct, rushing over to the other man. He knelt in front of him, ignoring the twinge in his knees that came with the action. “Hey Snowflake, it’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe,” Tony murmured soothing nonsense to the distressed super-soldier. Barnes looked at him, eyes unfocused and blurry, breathing still uneven and shallow.
Breathing. Right, okay, he could do this. “Do you think you could breathe with me? In,” Tony took an exaggerated breath in, “and out.” Barnes’s breathing hitched as he struggled to copy the motion. “Yeah, okay, that’s pretty good, you’re practically an expert. One more time, okay? In, and out.”
They continued that for some amount of time, it was hard to tell, with Tony alternately counting their breaths and murmuring soothing words under his breath. He knew better than to touch someone during a panic attack without their consent, so his hands hovered awkwardly, the instinct to provide tactile comfort too strong to resist entirely.
Once Barnes’s breathing had mostly evened out and he looked less like he was two seconds from passing out, Tony said, “why don’t we move to the couch, huh? My lab might be state-of-the-art, but the floors aren’t exactly the most comfortable.”
Barnes gave a little nod at that, and Tony stood, stifling a grimace at the pain in his knees. “Can I touch you? I’m not gonna be able to lift you considering you’re a grade-A slab of all-American beefcake,” fuck, don’t hit on the guy who literally just had a panic attack, Stark, “but I can at least help steady you a bit.”
Another little nod, and Tony helped him to his feet. He steered the two of them towards the couch, arm slung around his shoulder for support, both physical and mental. Tony maneuvered them so they were sitting on the couch, leaving some distance between them so as not to crowd the poor man.
Tony was at a bit of a loss. Now that the majority of the panic attack had ended, he had no idea what to do. He was about to suggest that they both go their separate ways and pretend that this had never happened, but then he looked over at the other man.
Barnes’s eyes were fearful, but not filled with the same panic as earlier. They looked almost resigned, and Tony’s heart melted yet again at that look.
“Hey, I’m not mad at you, you know that right? You’re not in trouble.” Tony spoke soothingly. He realized he was using the same voice he’d use to calm a scared animal, or a crying child. Barnes might be able to kill him without so much as a thought, but right now he bore more resemblance to a frightened kid than a killer assassin. Huh.
The fear in his eyes cleared somewhat, replaced with confusion, his brows furrowed adorably. Still he didn’t speak. Ah, still not verbal then.
Tony had a hunch. Well, less of a hunch and more of a feeling. Whatever it was, it was worth a shot.
“Hey, you want a hug?” He spread his arms wide in invitation. “I know physical affection is good for you, all those neurotransmitters and things, especially after a panic attack. And I bet you probably don’t get enough touch, what with all that bullshit with HYDRA, so maybe-“
Tony was interrupted from his slightly nervous ramble by Barnes practically barreling into his chest, making him let out a surprised ‘oof’. Arms wriggled their way between his back and the couch cushions and gripped tight. Barnes tucked his head against the crook of his neck, sighing in relief as he settled.
Welp. This was not what Tony had been expecting. He’d expected hesitance at best, incredulity at worst, but having a super-soldier launched at him with reckless abandon had not even crossed his mind.
Still, that didn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around him, running a hand soothingly up and down his spine. “Yeah, there you go, everything’s just fine. You’re safe now.” Tony kept up the quiet babble until he felt the super-soldier’s breaths start to even out with sleep.
Well, nothing left to do but fall asleep himself. He motioned DUM-E over to hand him a pillow, sticking it behind his head. His last thought before drifting off was mourning how sore he was going to be in the morning.
~~~
The first thing James noticed as he stirred was that he definitely wasn’t in his bed. The second was that his pillow was breathing.
He stretched languidly, yawning as he tried to remember how exactly he ended up in this situation. Then it all came flooding back, and he shot up.
His pillow made a discontented noise, not even bothering to open his eyes. Tony tugged at his arms, trying ineffectively to pull James back on top of him. “No, ‘s too early. Come back to bed.”
“Um,” James didn’t know what to say to that. Tony obviously thought he was someone else, someone not an almost complete stranger at the very least. Should he apologize? Just leave? Do something else?
“Buckaroo?” James’s eyes jerked back to Tony’s, which were now open and staring right at him, looking more confused than anything. “Everything alright?”
“Um,” he said again, eloquently. He was perched in Tony’s Stark’s lap after the man talked him down from a panic attack caused by him witnessing his most embarrassing secret, how could anything be alright?
Finally, he blurted, “I’m sorry.”
If anything, Tony just looked more confused at that. “Sorry for what? Falling asleep on me? Needing physical affection? Having a panic attack? Help a guy out here.”
James shrugged. “All of the above?” He suddenly realized he was still perched mostly on top of the man, and moved to get up, get some distance between the two of them.
Tony’s expression went from sleep-rumpled and confused to serious in a moment. He sat up, taking hold of James’s shoulders and maneuvering them so they were sitting side-by-side on the couch, facing each other, instead of half sitting half lying in each other’s laps. Tony looked into his eyes, face as serious as James had ever seen it. “Don’t apologize for any of that. None of it is your fault, or something you should be ashamed of. You hear me?”
“Uh, sure?” James was confused. Where had Tony “there’s not a serious bone in my body, unless you wanna put one there aggressive eyebrow wiggling” Stark gone? Tony stared into his eyes for a second more before he abruptly dropped his shoulders, cutting the tension that had formed.
“Alright, good. Don’t let me hear you talking like that again or I’ll sick the Capsicle on your overly-apologetic ass.” Tony mock-glared at him, but the issue was quickly dropped and before he knew it, he was being tugged up and along by the genius, because the man needed coffee and “Pepper won’t let me put a decent coffee maker in the lab, says it’s the only way to keep me from locking myself in there 24-7, which is probably true but still rude of her to say.”
James figured they were simply going to pretend it never happened and move on with their lives.
~~~
Except that wasn’t what happened.
Before, he and Tony weren’t exactly friends. They were acquaintances, colleagues maybe. They’d exchanged barely a dozen words, if you didn’t count team dinners where Tony talked and James… well, James was also there.
Now, whenever James couldn’t sleep, or just needed a break from Steve’s ever-present puppy dog eyes, he went and found Tony. Usually in the lab, but sometimes he’d be curled up on the couch in the common room. He’d look up at James and grin, motioning him over to sit with him, talking up a storm about his latest project for SI or the Avengers’ most recent mission, or whatever he was watching on TV. On these occasions, James would often find himself watching whatever movie Tony had decided was a ‘must-see’ this time, usually something lighthearted meant for kids.
And if, curled up on the lab couch throwing DUM-E’s ball or pressed against Tony’s side watching Disney movies, he felt more small and safe and protected than he’d felt since before he could remember, nobody has to know, not even Tony. Especially not Tony. The man couldn’t possibly have any idea what he was doing.
~~~
Tony knew exactly what he was doing.
Okay, well maybe not exactly. But he was pretty sure he had a decent idea of it. He knew a bit about age regression as a coping mechanism, mostly from binge-reading an entire psychology textbook that one time out of spite, and he knew a bit about CGL and littlespace, because you don’t have as much sex as he had in his 20’s and not get familiar with basically every kink under the sun, well at least not if you were Tony Stark. CGL had actually always been a favorite of his, since it appealed to his desire to take care of and spoil his partners, and he’d dated a good number of littles over the years.
Anyway, all this meant he knew how to recognize the signs, and James practically screamed “bundle me up in blankets and treat me like a toddler”. Not that he had any intention of pushing the man into anything like that. He wasn’t James’s daddy and James wasn’t his little, and that was fine with him. But a little time away from Steve, who was still following him around like a lost puppy, to just relax and be himself? Yeah Tony could do that.
Of course, given Tony’s luck, things couldn’t just stay the way they’d been, no that’d be too easy.
It happened during one of their movie nights. They were watching Tangled, having finally worked their way through the majority of the classic Disney movies. For once Tony was actually caught up on his sleep, having recently finished a huge SI project and been ushered off to bed by Pepper. James, though, had had a rough couple of nights due to some particularly triggering therapy sessions, so he’d been falling asleep since the opening number.
One or both of them falling asleep during movie night wasn’t unusual. What was unusual was that James had plastered himself up against Tony, trapping him against the couch. James was still getting used to physical contact, so besides the first time contact had been restricted to pats on the shoulder and the occasional hug. But apparently James was tired enough to forget his aversion, because Tony soon found himself with a lapful of super-soldier. He smiled, raking his fingers through his soldier’s hair. He really was adorable like this, all cuddled up, unabashedly enjoying the contact.
Soon enough, though, the movie was over, and as nice as the couches in the tower were, he was not spending another night on one unless absolutely necessary. So he got to work nudging James awake.
“C’mon snugglebug, up and at ‘em, no more using me as a pillow.” But all James did was make a discontented sound and snuggle in closer, fisting a hand in his shirt. And of course it was the metal one, so there was no way that was coming loose unless James wanted it to or the shirt ripped. James apparently was leaning more towards shirt ripping territory.
Just as Tony started to work on detaching James’s grip on his shirt, though, the soldier’s discontented noises abruptly turned to distressed whimpers, which resolved into words.
He chanted “‘M sorry, ‘m sorry, I’ll be good I promise I’ll be good,” over and over, sobbing into his place buried in Tony’s chest. Shit, he hated watching people he cared about cry. Tony immediately wrapped his arms around him, pressing him more firmly against his chest, whispering the usual soothing babble into his ear, hoping whatever it was would pass quickly.
He wasn’t quite sure if the boy was asleep or awake or somewhere in-between, but it was obvious he was deeply upset from some kind of nightmare. Tony could feel his shirt getting wet with tears and snot as he continued to soothe as best he could.
Eventually the sobs died down, leaving only sniffles in their place. “Feeling better, baby boy?” Tony asked, smiling softly at the mop of hair perched on his chest. Blue-grey eyes peeked up at him, and Tony had to fight the urge to coo at his adorable boy, even with red, swollen eyes and a tear-streaked face.
There was no response, but he hadn’t really expected one. James wasn’t much of a talker at the best of times, even more so when he was regressed. Tony didn’t bother to prompt him, instead reaching for the box of tissues on the side table.
He was quickly stilled, though, when James let out a squeak of distress. Looking back down, Tony found that James’s eyes were filled with desperate panic.
“What’s wrong, love?” Tony pet the boy’s cheek, then reached up to run his fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him through touch.
James went back to hiding his face in Tony’s shirt, mumbling something into the fabric.
“What was that, sweetheart?” Tony distantly realized he should back off on the pet names, but he couldn’t help it.
James raised his head a bit, enough to free his mouth, and repeated at a whisper only barely loud enough to be heard, “please don’t leave.”
“Oh, honey,” Tony felt his heart melt. “I won’t, I promise. I’m here.”
At that moment, there wasn’t a force in this world that could make him leave his boy’s side.
They sat like that for a while longer, Tony whispering reassurance and praise into James’s ear, pet names and promises spilling from his lips. James slowly relaxed, eventually allowing Tony to shift enough to grab the tissues.
It was when Tony was gently patting at James’s face with a wad of tissues, continuing the neverending stream of soothing nonsense, that it slipped out.
“Cute as a button, aren’t you? Daddy’s best boy.” Tony didn’t even process the words until the man on top of him went still and cold, face flashing with a myriad of unreadable emotions before shutting down completely. “Oh fuck. James, I’m--”
The supersoldier was gone before he could get another word out.
~~~
He should have known better.
Tony was too good to be true, James had known that from the start. But he figured he might enjoy it while it lasted. He assumed he was a curiosity, something to keep the great Tony Stark entertained before he got bored and moved onto the next shiny new thing.
But to be mocked when he was vulnerable like that? Because he could tell that’s what had happened, now. Stark had obviously figured out about James’s… childish tendencies somehow, and had decided to use them against him. That must be it.
… He wasn’t entirely sure how Stark was going to use this against him, but it was clear that’s what was happening. He’d probably shown all the other Avengers the footage of him acting like a baby, laughing together about the great Winter Soldier, reduced to a child. And they had every right to laugh! So goddamn pathetic…
James wasn’t thinking straight. His panicked mind warped the world around him, mixing the waking world and his nightmare. The nightmare had been a hellish combination of memories of his Pa’s abuse and his time with HYDRA, and his mind kept superimposing Tony’s face over that of the sneering handlers and his cruel father as they taunted him for being weak, for crying, for his mere existence.
He didn’t notice his frantic movement through the halls of the tower, only taking note of his location when the door to his room shut behind him and his knees gave out. He landed gracelessly on the floor, back pressed to the door. He pulled his knees up, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe, oh god, there was a weight on his chest and he couldn’t get enough air in, oh god he was dying, he was--
Warm hands, on his shoulders. A calm, familiar voice, speaking in low tones. His hand, placed on a chest. It expanded, and then contracted, then expanded once more. He carefully matched the pattern of expanding and contracting in his own body, his breath slowly becoming more even and deep.
He opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) and the room swam into focus. Tony hovered above him, honey-brown eyes full of something that James couldn’t recognize in his current state. Worry maybe, or concern? James jerked his hand away from where it lay on the other man’s chest, cradling it as if it had been burned. Hurt flashed in Tony’s eyes.
“Listen, James, I know it really isn’t the time since you literally just had a panic attack, but I feel like if I don’t say it now I’ll lose my nerve, or you’ll start hiding from me, or — whatever. Fuck where was I going with this.”
Tony took a deep breath, seeming to gather his thoughts. James wanted to bite back, spitting poison at the other man, but he couldn’t. His tongue was tied tight, and his brain was fogged up, and he knew even if he could find the words he wouldn’t be able to say them.
Before he could even begin to formulate a biting remark, Tony started talking once more.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, it just slipped out. I was trying to bottle that stuff up, introduce it to you gradually, ya know? But that plan’s down the toilet, so bottom line, I promise I’m not crazy and/or a pedophile.”
James was confused. Really confused. Bottle what stuff up? Introduce what gradually? And what was that about pedophilia?
James spluttered a bit, trying and failing to voice any of those thoughts. Tony must have understood somehow, or at least could read his facial expressions well enough to figure it out.
“Fuck, I’m getting ahead of myself here aren’t I. You know what, fuck it. This can wait til the morning.” He sat back on his heels, running fingers through his hair, and seemed to abruptly realize they were still sitting on the floor. “Fuck why am I like this. Alright up you get, we can discuss this in the morning.”
James allowed himself to be ushered off to bed in a daze, still not 100% sure what was going on.
Still, with the two back-to-back panic attacks, he didn’t have the energy to protest. He was out pretty much the moment his head hit the pillow.
~~~
Tony was, admittedly, a bit of a coward.
Sure, he was a superhero, he faced down all sorts of baddies every day. He laughed in the face of danger, gave terrorists his address, flew nukes into space.
But when it came to emotions? Completely a coward.
So that’s why, instead of talking to James like a normal adult, Tony stayed up all night compiling a list of resources on age regression and ageplay. Well technically JARVIS did the compiling, but Tony sorted and organized and rejected choices based on what he thought would make the idea most clear. He wanted only the best for his boy. No, for James, James was not his, at least not yet. If all went well and he could convince the man he wasn’t a freak, maybe they could have that, but not right now.
He was not enough of a coward to have JARVIS deliver the compiled list, however. The delivery process involved asking JARVIS to inform him when the other was awake, and then knocking on his door, thrusting the tablet into his hands and muttering something about keeping an open mind, then fleeing back to his lab and initiating lockdown procedures. But the delivery did happen.
Tony just hoped James didn’t take one look and throw it away in disgust.
~~~
James was… confused. Less confused than he had been before reading the surprisingly in-depth and informative articles Tony had given him, but confused nonetheless. Or maybe a better way of putting would be to say that the situation was clear to him, but the why was still unknown.
More precisely, why would Tony want this with him?
He read accounts of other littles, learned what their relationships were like in the day-to-day, and it filled him with a sense of yearning. He wanted so badly to be taken care of, held and cuddled and loved by his Daddy. By Tony. He could even see the appeal of being a caregiver, bringing to mind vague images of him playing nursemaid to a tiny, sickly Steve Rogers back in the day.
But why would Tony Stark want to take care of him? He was broken, scarred inside and out, forced by evil people to do evil things. He’d killed the man’s parents, for God’s sake. He couldn’t go to a coffee shop without spending the entire trip watching over his shoulder, paranoid that every passerby was a Hydra agent out to get him. Some days he could barely remember who he was, becoming more cornered, terrified animal than rational human being.
But Tony knew all that. He’d read the files, seen the footage, helped pry him off of Steve that one time he got too close on a bad day. And yet, if he understood what was happening correctly, Tony was offering to be his Daddy. Was it pity? Some kind of caregiving instinct towards anyone who acted even remotely little? He just couldn’t make any sense of it.
Only one way to find out, though.
~~~
Standing at the lab door, James started to doubt if this really was a good idea at all, but the door was already opening and it was too late to back out now.
The discordant music was abruptly muted, and Tony jerked up. “J what gives? You can’t just turn off my tunes like that.”
“You have a guest, Sir.” JARVIS said primly, though James got the feeling that the AI was attempting to meddle in his creator’s life.
“Guest? JARV I told you to lock down--” Tony turned in his chair and stopped cold. The two of them made eye contact, and you could cut the tension with a knife.
“I took the liberty of inviting this guest inside. I thought you would want to see him,” JARVIS told them, speaking into the silence.
“We’ll talk about that later.” Tony said, voice slightly faint.
“Um, hi.” James had no idea what to say. He’d planned out what he’d wanted to say on the walk to the lab, but now all that had emptied out, leaving behind a faint ringing in his ears as they stared in silence.
Tony was the first to recover, pasting on a mask of joviality to hide his uncertainty. “So I figure you’ve read all the stuff I gave you. Fascinating stuff, right? Brains are so weird, I might call that stuff squishy science but only because it scares the shit out of me. Did you know I once memorized an entire psychology textbook? And the whole eidetic memory thing means I haven’t forgotten a single word. Freud haunts my nightmares, I swear to god. And that’s not even considering the whole kink angle, I know if Steve and his old fashioned 40’s sensibilities read some of the other articles on a couple of those sites, he’d faint dead away. It’s like--”
“Tony.” Jesus H. Christ could the man talk, and that was made all the worse when he was nervous.
“Uh, yeah?” Tony looked at him, scared and hopeful and a whole mess of other emotions James couldn’t begin to recognize.
Fuck, he still don’t have anything to say, he’d just wanted to stop the man’s nervous babbling.
“Why me?” he blurted, regretting the words the moment they left his mouth.
“Why you what?” Tony furrowed his brows, looking more concerned than confused, like he knew exactly what James was about to say and didn’t like it one bit.
No backing out now, he guessed. Might as well rip off the bandaid. “Why would you want me? To be your little? Unless that isn’t what you’re asking and I’m making even more of an ass of myself, shit…” James reached up and ran his hands through his hair in frustration.
“No, no, that is what I’m asking. Only if you’re up for it, though!” Tony rushed to amend. “No need to jump on board with the first Daddy-ish person you come across. We could work out more of a babysitting type arrangement, or I don’t even need to be involved at all! God knows why anyone would want me for a Daddy.” The last part was muttered under his breath, obviously not intended for James to hear, but his superhuman hearing picked it up anyway. He frowned.
“What the hell do ya mean, ‘no one would want you’? You’re a great Daddy.” James crossed his arms over his chest, feeling a bit offended on Tony’s behalf.
Tony just stared at him for a second, looking incredulous, like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “Snowflake. Terminator. Bucky-boo. I’m a human disaster. Like, a walking, talking tornado of terrible-at-personing-ness. I can barely take care of myself, let alone another human being.”
“Hey, no talking about yourself like that,”James glared. “I don’t care about any of that shit. You’ve been pretty dang good taking care a’ me, haven’t you? You’re kind, you’re compassionate, you seem to know what I need before I do. You keep me safe.” James said, the last part spoken in a voice not much louder than a whisper. He hadn’t meant to say all of that, but hearing Tony talk bad about himself like that loosened his tongue.
Tony sputtered, trying to come up with a way to brush off the compliments, but James silenced him with a look. “Well you’re one to talk, Mr. why-would-anyone-want me.”
“You still haven’t answered that, actually. Why in the hell would you want a traumatized ex-assassin with 70 years worth of baggage as a little? You’re Tony Stark.” he said, accusing.
Tony snorted. “Yeah I’m Tony Stark, traumatized ex-Merchant of Death with baggage that costs more than everything you’ve owned in your life, combined.”
“Stop fucking talking about yourself like that!”
Tony paused for a second, staring, then burst out laughing. He doubled over, giggling hysterically and clutching his stomach. James just watched, baffled, until the laughter died down. “I just realized,” Tony gasped, struggling to breathe after his laughing fit, “this is the stupidest argument I’ve ever been in. Getting into an argument where we compliment the other person and insult ourselves…” he shook his head. “Ridiculous.”
All of the tension seemed to drain out of James at once. “Yeah, yeah you’re right.”
“Let’s move this over to the couch and talk this over like rational human beings. Wow, never thought I’d be the one saying those words.” they both laughed weakly as Tony steered them to the couch.
James stopped them before Tony could pull him onto the couch. Summoning up his nerve, he asked, “um, do you think, maybe we could… cuddle?”
Tony grinned at him, wide and happy. “Of course, baby boy.”
~~~
They did cuddle, and while they cuddled, they talked.
Not at first, though. They spent the first little while, maybe 10 minutes, simply drinking in each other’s presence, enjoying touching and being touched. It was Tony who started talking again, never one to be in silence for long. “So,” he shifted a bit so he could look better at the man curled on top of him, “what did you think of those articles? I do actually want to know.”
“It was… good. A bit like reading my own inner thoughts written by a stranger, but good.”
“Yeah? What parts?”
“Mostly the parts about wanting to feel small and safe and protected, and the stuff about trauma. Plus never getting to really be a kid. Never realized that was an issue ‘til I read it on a page.”
From there, they launched into a discussion about trauma and the way it can affect a person’s life, and how childhood trauma isn’t always about getting beat up on.
“Though my Pa did do that a bit too, before he left. Stayed away from my sisters, but he was always finding some reason to tan my hide.” James hid his face in Tony’s chest as Tony made sympathetic noises and stroked his hair.
“I’m sorry that happened to you, Snowflake.” he murmured.
James shrugged, or as much as he could while in his current positions sprawled out across Tony. “Isn’t a big deal, really. Was a long time ago.” he said, mostly into Tony’s shirt.
Tony admonished him for that, then shared his own troubles in childhood, never abused physically but emotionally. His short childhood had been filled with periods of emotional neglect, then verbal abuse at the hands of his father.
James had sat up a bit at that, face going cold. “Bastard’s lucky I already killed him.” His expression quickly switched to worry as he realized what he’d said, “Wait, I--”
Tony held up a hand to silence him. “I’m not offended. He was a shit dad and I’ve thought something similar at one point or another.”
James relaxed again, returning to his position as Tony’s human blanket. “How ‘bout we talk about something slightly less depressing?”
And thus, they went from discussing psychology to kink negotiation. Or at least that’s what Tony said it was; James was still unclear about how dressing up in baby clothes and pretending to be a toddler qualified as ‘kinky’. He knew from the research that it was sexual for some people, but he and Tony both agreed that that wasn’t what they were looking for.
When he asked Tony about it, he just shrugged. “Kink isn’t necessarily sexual. It’s about power dynamics and finding satisfaction from giving up power or having power given up to you. Sometimes that involves sex, sometimes it doesn’t.”
“Huh.”
“Don’t believe everything you see in porn, kiddo.” James smacked him for that.
After that, they finally got to talking about James’s insecurities, and Tony spent a good while showering him in assurances that he deserved the world. Even if he wasn’t sure he believed it, even if it took another 70 years for it to really sink in, it filled him with a warmth deep in his chest that he would always treasure.
James, of course, returned the favor, telling the genius that he deserved only the best, fuck what anybody else thought. He could tell that Tony didn’t really believe them, but they could work on it.
Together.
~~~
James stood outside the door to the penthouse, trying to wrack up the courage to knock. The rest of the team was out for the day, and JARVIS had been given explicit instructions not to let them up until he was given the all clear. It had been several days since their discussion on the couch, and the first time they were going to put what they discussed into action. At the time James had been confident, sure he could handle whatever was thrown his way, but now the doubt was starting to creep back in.
Steeling himself, he knocked. Almost the moment his hand touched the wood, the door was swinging open, and Tony was there, smiling gently at him.
“Was worried you were getting cold feet.” Tony said lightly.
James flushed. Evidently JARVIS had informed the other man just how long he’d been standing there.
Tony ushered him inside. “So I thought we could just start with watching cartoons and cuddling. Just what we normally do, except maybe watch something for a younger audience? Or we could just stick to Disney movies, no problem.”
They’d decided that his headspace was probably somewhere between 3 and 5 years old, just above diaper age. He nodded at that plan, and Tony dragged him over to the sofa, calling out for JARVIS to put on Blue’s Clues.
It felt a little strange at first, watching a show for children as a grown man, but Tony took notice of his discomfort quickly. “Relax, honey. Don’t get so stuck in your head. Just enjoy it.”
He took the advice to heart, and soon he was giggling, pointing at the clues and occasionally answering the host’s questions in a quiet voice. Every time, Tony praised him, telling him what a good, smart boy he was, and soon he felt that tiny, floaty feeling that he now recognized as littlespace.
After a couple episodes, Tony turned off the tv, saying, “I think that’s enough tv for now, don’t you?” He laughed at James’s mournful look. “I have a gift for you.”
A gift?? Tony got up, gently moving him from his lap, and retrieved a colorfully wrapped package from the other room, and the tv was quickly forgotten in favor of ripping apart the paper, revealing a large box of crayons and several coloring books.
He immediately started looking through the books, trying to find the perfect picture to color. Tony chuckled. “What do you say, baby?”
James flushed, mood immediately dropping. Was he going to be punished for not saying thank you?
Tony could evidently read the thoughts written across his face. “Hey, baby boy, look at me.” James hesitantly met his gaze. “I’m not mad at you, love. Sometimes little boys get excited and they forget their manners. That doesn’t mean they’re bad.”
James’s face split into a grin, and he threw himself into Tony’s, his Daddy’s, arms. “Thank you thank you thank you!” he chanted. Tony could tell that he was saying thank you for much more than the coloring books.
“Of course, baby, of course. Now, do you want to use your new crayons to color a picture?”
“Okay Daddy.” James smiled up at his Daddy once more, before grabbing his coloring books and crayons and plopping down in front of the coffee table.
Tony watched, bemused, as his boy began flipping through the coloring books for the perfect picture. James had called him Daddy! He hadn’t expected it so soon. He’d expected that it would take a couple sessions of playtime for them to get used to each other, hell he hadn’t even really been expecting James to go into his headspace this early! But evidently his boy had taken to this, and to him, like a duck to water.
“Daddy?” Tony was startled out of his thoughts by a quiet voice, and looked down to find shy, nervous eyes staring up at him.
“Yeah, honey?” he smiled, trying to convey that everything was fine, there was nothing to worry about.
“Is… is it okay if I tell you a story?” James fidgeted, avoiding his eyes.
“Of course, love. What kind of story do you want to tell me?” Tony said as he settled back on the couch, his boy on the other side of the coffee table.
“Well…”
James talked, and Tony listened. They weren’t perfect, far from it, but in that moment, in the penthouse of Stark Tower with about a dozen coloring books spread out across the coffee table and JARVIS playing some soft jazz in the background, they’d created their own little slice of heaven.