Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There are places in Washington D.C. away from the cherry blossom trees and gleaming monuments, away from the tourist crowds gathering for pictures and the politicians writing thievery into laws. There are places where law enforcement never bothers to look twice, where the streetlamps don’t really work but no one thinks to fix them, places where high bridges lead to brighter places but beneath the concrete supports, awful things grow in the shadows. 

It was a hot, empty evening in D.C. when an unmarked van with blacked out windows rattled to a stop in one of those places, idling under an unmarked bridge and nearly hidden in the growing gloom. No one was around to notice the vehicle– in this part of town no one would care enough to notice– so it was as good a place as any to conduct some business.

“This’ll work.” the driver decided. “Open up the back, let’s get him out.” 

“You sure this is what the boss wanted?” the second one cranked open the rear door of the rusty van and grabbed onto the heavy form slumped inside. “Just’ta dump the guy out here for anyone to find?”

“Not really our decision, is it?” the driver grunted as he tried to help manhandle their cargo out onto the ground. “B’sides. This is D.C. No one’s gonna look twice at some homeless ex soldier missin’ a damn arm. He’s better than invisible this way.” 

“Don’t see why we can’t kill him, though.” God, the guy must have weighed two hundred and fifty pounds and the second henchman wheezed under the effort of moving him. “They wiped him so hard he can barely breathe, would be easy to just off’im at this point.”

“Maybe the higher ups wanna be able to find and use him again they need to.” The driver propped the unconscious form up against a support strut. “Took them seventy years of programming to get this guy workin’ right, sure seems like a waste to throw him in a dumpster.” 

“Seventy years, huh? Holy shit. He barely looks thirty.” he nudged at the blindfolded captive a few times with his boot. “Dumping him in the ass end of D.C. is the same as puttin’ him the trash though, isn’t it?” 

The driver snorted an ugly laugh, then aimed a swift kick at their prisoners ribs. “Wake up asshole! Boss says we gotta make sure you’re awake before we leave. Wake up!” 

Another hard kick, and the soldier groaned weakly. “We should leave before he wakes up all th’way, Even missing that freaky arm he’s strong as hell, let’s get outta here and—whoa!” 

Both men scrambled away when the prisoner jerked forward with a noise that more of a snarl, lurched to unsteady feet and felt up around his face to yank the blindfold off. 

“Fuck me.” the passenger muttered as the soldier narrowed confused, furious eyes in their direction. “Look at him, he can’t even stand right.”

“Let’s get out of here.” The driver was already backing towards the van again, hands up and eyes trained on the former assassin. “I’m not takin’ any chances they didn’t get rid of all that killer programming. Come on, let’s go.”  

“Wait.” the soldier wheezed, one hand out pleadingly because he just didn’t understand, but both driver and passenger were all but running for the van now, throwing the worn gear shift into drive and peeling out from beneath the bridge, leaving him woozy and unbalanced, alone and lost. 

“Wait.” he said again, softly, hoarsely, his voice rough from– from what? The soldier didn’t remember screaming or crying but his voice was rough all the same, and he ran unsteady fingers through his tangled, matted hair as he tried to think. 

There was an envelope in his back pocket, and the soldier tugged it free awkwardly, reached with his other hand to tear it open and–

– “Oh. Oh god.” His arm, he didn’t have a left arm, where the hell was his arm?

Nausea, and he staggered back against the bridge support, clutched at his left shoulder to feel the protrusion of metal and steel where there was meant to be bone, the slight round of a hinge or–or maybe a gear shift where there were meant to be cartilage and joints. 

“Fuck. Fuck.” the soldier pitched to the side and was violently sick, heaving and gasping as he lost his stomach onto the dirty ground, pain radiating up his side and through his shoulder, through his head as a suddenly brutal migraine had his nose bleeding and vision blurring. 

“Help me.” he gasped to the no one that wasn’t watching. “Help me.” 

Crumpled up in the soldier’s good hand was the little bit of cash from the envelope and a single piece of paper. ‘Your name is James’.

“My name is James.” the soldier rested his feverish forehead against the cold concrete and bit back a terrified sob. “My name is James. Help me.” 

************

One Year Later

************

“Tony!” Pepper was using that specific tone of voice again, the one that meant she had tried and failed to get Tony’s attention at least three times, and God help her, if he didn’t respond right now she might actually scream. “Are you listening to me?” 

“I am listening to every word, Pep.” Tony turned from the limo window and forced a smile that was a little too bright, a little too wide. “You said if I didn’t stick to the script for tomorrow’s hearing they might actually come and forcefully take the suit and that’s the last possible thing Stark Industries needs right now.” 

“Right.” Pepper’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And then I said–” 

Tony tuned her out again, slouching against the upholstery and staring out at the scenery passing alongside the car. Washington DC was ugly and boring, the Senate committee hearings redundant and ridiculous, and he had too much on his mind to give a damn if his continued arrogance in front of the senators reflected poorly on the company. 

He just didn’t give a damn. 

Tony inhaled slowly and made a concentrated effort not to scratch at the patchwork lines bleeding out from beneath the arc reactor and setting his chest on fire. The blood toxicity monitor had registered nineteen percent this morning, and he clenched his hands into fists to stop from checking it a second time. 

There was too much to do right now to think about nineteen percent. Tony had to present at the Expo tonight even though the thought of putting on a show made him shaky and anxious. Pepper was disappointed in him again which made him shaky and anxious for a whole other reason. Tony was tired and he was in pain and nineteen percent shouldn’t sound so scary but it did and he was terrified.

“I think it’s important for Colonel Rhodes to be there tomorrow for the hearing. I know you said it isn’t necessary and that he’s busy enough without all this but a testimony from a high ranking official about the merits of your suit and how hard you’ve worked to keep us safe could really go a long way towards–” Pepper stopped again, irritation leeching into the words. “Tony, are you listening?” 

“Have you ever eaten at one of those diners? One of those beginning of a horror movie diners?” This time around Tony didn’t bother pretending he’d been listening and Pepper gave one of those sighs that signaled she was nearing the end of her patience. “You know, where the lights always flicker and the food is greasy and the one waitress should probably be a hundred years old but she’s sort of always fifty three? One of those.” 

“N-no, Tony. No I haven’t eaten at one of those diners.” Pepper put her tablet down and sighed again. “Are you okay? You’ve been weird for days and I thought it would pass once we got you out of the lab and into fresh air, but it hasn’t. What’s going on?” 

“I haven’t been…weird.” Tony hedged. “Just looking for things to distract from the horror of playing nice to men in suits who have no idea what it takes to be a hero and to wear armor and to–” 

“You wanted to ride the bus to D.C.” Pepper interrupted, counting off on her slim fingers. “From Manhattan, I might add. A horrifying prospect for at least three reasons without even mentioning it’s a minimum six hour drive.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to see America from the point of view of a tourist.” Tony argued, and Pepper countered, “We have a private jet, two helicopters, a fleet of cars, both a stretch limo and a stretch limo-Hummer for some awful reason, as well as a shockingly expensive suit of armor that could make this journey in all of twenty minutes. A bus– and especially a public bus out of Manhattan should never have been an option.” 

“Okay, but it would have been worth the experience, right?”

“Day before yesterday, you walked out of the Senate meeting.”  Pepper ignored the experience comment. “You left mid testimony and snuck through the back door of a theater to watch a Up, then cried like a baby when the old man left the chairs out on the cliff.” 

“Just because you have a heart of stone doesn’t mean I do.” Tony huffed. “It’s a beautiful story and I dare you not to cry in a Pixar movie.” 

“I don’t care that you cried about a Pixar movie, Tony!” Pepper burst out. “I care that you are shirking every single one of your responsibilities lately and replacing them with actions that are reckless and random even for you! I got a phone call from the shelter on 8th this morning– did you pay the adoption fees for every animal there just so people could come in and have free pets? And what about a few weeks ago when you–” 

“I’m going to stop and get some food.” Tony’s palms were suddenly clammy, mouth dry and chest aching and he rushed to cut Pepper off before the uncomfortable bloomed into a full blown panic attack. “Lunch. You want lunch? We should get lunch.” 

“Tony.” Pepper made a visible effort to calm herself down and speak gently. “I’m trying to tell you I’m worried about you. I think the stress of the new Expo and the Senate hearings is starting to get to you, and I know you’d never actually admit it, so I won’t ask you too.” 

“Pep, seriously I gotta go.” 

“It’s very important that we go over a strategy for the committee tomorrow.” she continued soothingly. “But if you are ready for lunch, I’ll order in lunch. I’ll even see if we can get some greasy diner food if you want. We can call Rhodey and get him on speakerphone and touch bases and then we can–” 

“I have to get some lunch right now.” The limo slowed to a stop for a red light and Tony opened the door and practically leaped for the sidewalk. “I’ll call you later okay, I just really need lunch right now. I need lunch. Is that so weird? Don’t look so worried, I’ll be back soon. I love you, okay? I do. I just have to go right now.” 

“Tony?!” Pepper called for him in confusion and a fair amount of worry, but Tony shut the door and took off at a quick job away from the car, away from Pepper’s disappointment, away from the doom that was nineteen percent and the oddly horrifying thought that he’d die without ever having eaten at some sketchy diner with less than edible food. 

Looking back, Tony would call this a nervous break down but right now he was going to call it lunch and as his expensive shoes scraped along dirty streets and turned corners led to grimy places and broken streetlights, the ever present crush in his chest began to ease, the panic began to lessen as he got further and further from expectations and closer to something sort of like anonymity.

Not that a man in a three thousand dollar suit and two hundred dollar haircut was anonymous in this part of town, but escaping felt good all the same. And he wasn’t going to look too deep into why being nobody felt like a relief because today was not the day for an internal therapy session, Tony could only handle one crisis at a time. 

First he was going to get lost, then he was going to get lunch, then he’d try and handle real life again. 

Diner, Open 24/7 the sign said, letters falling off and the colors half past faded and it was perfect. No name, non descript, out of the way, the too heavy scent of cheap hamburger and old fries hanging in the air,  and a far far cry from the posh brunch eatery Pepper had chosen this morning. 

It was perfect, so Tony slowed to a walk and pushed through the creaky doors to see what was beyond.  

Inside the diner was everything Tony had expected and somehow quite a bit more. The tables were covered with plastic table cloths, the silverware hopelessly mismatched and his shoes stuck on a sticky spot at the door because that’s just how these things had to be. The waitresses were all ambiguously middle aged, chewing gum and tapping pens on worn out menus, wiping their hands on faded floral aprons and shouting orders back to the line cooks in rapid fire repetition. 

The booths creaked and sagged, the Daily Specials placard was dated 2001, and when someone came to give Tony a cup of water, it was in a cracked Coca Cola glass that may have been bright red at one time and only had two ice cubes floating in lethargic circles along the rim.

It was perfect for some reason, in fact it almost reminded Tony of the days at MIT when the other college kids had been broke and scrounging for extra money, going in together on piles of cafeteria food served on marginally clean plates while studying until their eyes went crossed. Tony had never had to scrounge, but he’d enjoyed the novelty of it– of being broke and relying on each other, relying on Rhodey as they drank pot after pot of cheap coffee and crammed for finals then overloaded on junk food and alcohol before sleeping for a solid week. 

The diner reminded him of those years and Tony wondered for a few seconds when he’d stopped doing that, when he’d stopped pretending to be one of those guys, doing those real life college kid things like he wasn’t set to basically take over the world courtesy of Stark Industries. 

Losing Mom and Dad. The though came unwelcome and intrusive. Losing Mom and Dad had been when Tony stopped pretending to be normal. Everyone had expected him to step up and immediately be the next Howard, and thank God Obie had been there to deflect some of the pressure, but then again fuck Obie and everything he did to Tony, everything he did that was why Tony’s chest ached with every breath and he still had nightmares, and oh god the nightmares made him think of nineteen percent and damn it here he went spiraling towards another panic attack….

“Ah-hem.” Tony had no idea how long the waitress had been standing at his table, but she was clearing her throat loudly and tapping at her notepad purposefully, and he swallowed back the urge to scream to try and force a smile.

“Uh hi.” Tony took in her teased up high hair and vividly colored eye shadow and his smile stretched a little more towards real. “Sorry about that. Spaced out for a second. I’ll take maybe– maybe pancakes. And coffee.” 

“It’s two in the afternoon, sugar.” the waitress popped her gum and raised severely plucked eyebrows. “You want pancakes?” 

“Uhhh yes?” 

“Your funeral.” she said flatly and Tony didn’t know if she was teasing or not so he forced out a chuckle and leaned back into the uncomfortable booth to try and relax. 

His phone was buzzing in his pocket, over and over until it blended continuous and he knew it was Pepper calling probably first in panic, and then in anger. She didn’t understand why he’d gotten more reckless lately, why he was abrupt and then immediately sorry, why he couldn’t concentrate for more than a minute and why his always present anxiety had gotten harder to hide. 

Not her fault, of course. Tony hadn’t told her about the blood poisoning or that the reactor was killing him or that being forced to confront his own mortality for the hundredth time since that fateful day in Afghanistan was screwing with his head. 

Not her fault, because Tony hadn’t told her about the timeline of three months, and how he was painfully aware of every second passing and couldn’t stomach the thought of wasting time with things that didn’t matter. Senate meetings, judgment from the press, worry from his shareholders– none of it mattered. 

If Tony could get his mind off of nineteen percent and onto something else then it would be okay. He could fake through the days until the pain and side effects got too bad to hide and by then he would have made his peace with it all, right? He just needed to get his mind off dying, off nineteen percent, off three months. He needed a new project and he needed a new focus and he needed–

Oh hello. Tony’s scattered thought process slammed to a halt when his mindless scanning of the restaurant patrons ended in the far corner of the diner, on a figure sat staring out the window at the gathering clouds, looking blank and empty and just as out of place as Tony felt. 

He wasn’t like the old man patiently doing crossword puzzles, or the woman who looked like she needed an entire pot of coffee before facing the rest of the day. He wasn’t as comfortable familiar as the obvious regulars, or as frazzled as the clearly single dad with a passel of little ones and maybe no one else noticed the guy, but Tony certainly did. 

Everything about the man screamed soldier, from the wary posture to the deceptively casual way blue eyes kept watching the room from beneath a curtain of dark hair. There was a mess of scars at the base of the man’s neck, a huge hand wrapped a coffee mug and truly massive shoulders but what Tony noticed most of all was a left sleeve that hung limp, pinned up to the guys shoulder and almost shocking with its emptiness. 

I can fix that. The thought popped unexpected into Tony’s mind, a line from some movie he’d sat through with Rhodey’s niece just the other night in attempt to be the Fun Uncle instead of the Drunk Uncle. I can fix that, the character said as he went through and all but rebuilt a schoolhouse and then kissed the tears right from some pretty girl’s cheek. 

It had been a story about feeling cursed and earning your own redemption, about getting lost and finding answers, about friends in unlikely places and how the past affects you whether you want to admit it or not, and Tony had both loved and hated the movie. He’d left Rhodey’s feeling like maybe he’d dug himself into a hole five feet wide by five feet deep, but if that was the case, would that make Pepper the warden wearing rattlesnake red nailpolish? 

Tony wanted to sort of hysterically laugh at the thought of Pepper wearing poisonous nail polish, but he pulled himself back from just cackling in the middle of the diner. This did seem like the sort of place to get away with that particular behavior, but he pulled himself back all the same. 

The worse the poisoning got, the more erratic Tony’s thoughts became, his impulse control all but non existent, his measure for societal norms wildly skewed towards inappropriate. Pepper thought he was just being obnoxious but the truth was Tony was trying to process so much in such a short amount of time, he wasn’t actually processing anything. 

Sensory overload, and it led to things like laughing about rattlesnake polish and fixating on a random diner patron. 

I can fix that. 

Tony was on his feet and moving before his brain even caught up, absentmindedly scratching at the arc reactor heavy in his chest as he made a beeline for that back booth with only the barest pieces of a plan forming.

He had a new piece of tech for the suit, something flashy and incredibly responsive and just last week Tony had come to the conclusion that he’d never get a new suit finished before– before– so the arm sat abandoned in a case down in the lab. 

But it wouldn’t take more than a few tweaks and some tests to turn the armor into a viable, working prosthesis and if he was gonna do that, maybe the piece should be for someone who was most likely a veteran. 

A wounded veteran that life had obviously chewed up, spit out and left for nothing. 

I can fix that, and it would be for a worth while cause and maybe chalking some points in the good karma column would help Tony sleep at night. 

“Hey, can I join you?” Up close the guys eyes weren’t just blue, they were glacier pale, shifting between blue and grey and boring into Tony like they were seeing through his soul and for a split second, Tony regretted just waltzing over and plopping down. 

But Tony Stark was the king of both creating and handling awkward moments so after a brief second to compose himself and to notice the soldier’s left shoulder sat lower, heavier, than the other, he started talking real fast so he could get it all out before the guy told him to go away. 

“So my name’s Tony, and I’d like to say I’m not usually this intrusive but ask anybody who knows me and they’ll say nosiness is actually one of my better qualities. Definitely less destructive than my curiosity even though it’s infinitely more off putting.” 

The soldier only blinked at him, and Tony rushed on, “So I work in the general area of robotics and mechanics that sort of thing. Prostheses and um– protective gear? And I can’t help but notice you’ve only got the one wonderfully  bulging bicep and I’d like you to let me help with getting you another one.” 

Those pale eyes darted around the room, clocking exits and obviously sizing the other patrons up like he thought he might be in danger and Tony instinctively reached for the guys hand to comfort him before he realized what he was doing. 

He jerked back immediately, because not only were they perfect strangers and holding hands would have been weird even by his current standards, but boy howdy wouldn’t the press have a field day if they caught sight of Tony Stark holding hands with a man?

One reckless college night and a stint in the tabloids long ago had taught Tony the world wouldn’t look kindly on that particular part of himself, and if the tabloids hadn’t done it, the look on Howard’s face as he shouted about how his boy would marry a woman god-dammit had certainly set Tony on the proverbial ‘straight path’, so he cleared his throat a few times and tried to find another way to calm the soldier down. 

Later he could wonder why nineteen percent had him thinking about his Dad and that one time in college and all the times he’d shoved himself deep in the closet, but right now he had to make it through this conversation.

Therapy, later. 

“This uh– this isn’t a scam.” he tried to reassure the other guy. “Or a trick or whatever. It’s just me here, no one is waiting with cameras or a ‘gotcha’ moment or whatever else you’re stressed about. I understand the need to check exits and worry that someone is gonna grab you but that’s not what this is.”

Silence, and Tony cleared his throat again, feeling both parched and ridiculous but he was too far in to back out now. “I can buy you breakfast and maybe we can talk? I’d like to get you fit for an arm cos you soldiers go through enough shit as it is, you deserve to come home with all your limbs. I can do that for you. For free.”

A flash of Afghanistan and the kids that had lost their lives defending him, and Tony softened his tone. “Not going to cost you anything, we can do it at my place or if that’s weird I can bring my equipment to you or we can meet a neutral location or a doctors office? Where are you staying, anywhere close?” 

Belatedly, Tony realized there was a good chance the soldier could be homeless, especially if he was around this part of town, especially if his personnel file was stamped with PTSD and honestly, why the hell wouldn’t it be? Tony needed a stamp like that for his goddamn forehead, this soldier definitely did, too.

Homeless was unfortunate. Devastating, really and pre-Afghanistan Tony hadn’t thought twice about all those statistics about veterans and their PTSD and how they struggled to fit back into an unsympathetic world. But post Afghanistan, post “I am Iron Man” and staring into the lost, nearly blank gaze of one of those statistics, Tony cared a lot. 

“You can come stay with me.” he said out loud, knowing full well Pepper would shriek about him bringing home a perfect stranger. “I have plenty of room, I’m never at the New York apartment and there’s a whole side of the Malibu house I don’t even go in if you prefer the beach to the city. Or if DC is familiar, I can set up shop here. Just tell me what you prefer and I’ll make it happen.” 

Silence, and Tony kept talking because that’s just what he did, “It’s a win-win for both of us, you know? You’ll get a top of the line prosthesis and a place to stay for a while. I’ll get someone to listen to me talking while I work and do some good for the world, which should help my chances of getting to heaven, right? Cos wow, do I need some serious help in that sector.” 

The guy just kept looking and Tony finally laughed a little, shoved his fingers into his hair and disrupted the gelled style. “Alright you know what? I’m starting to sound creepy even to my own ears so here. Here’s my number.” 

He scrawled his digits on a napkin and pushed it across the table. “You call me if you want to give it a shot, okay? Doesn’t matter if it’s tonight or a few weeks from now,  just maybe do it within a few months? Two months, Max. This offer– “and me. “– has an expiration date and no pressure, but it’s already sort of going going and soon to be gone, yeah?” 

Tony got up from the booth and grimaced when his shoes stuck to the floor again. “I’ll get out of your admittedly awesome hair and leave you to your coffee. Have a good day and um– sorry about ambushing you like this. I’ll just leave. I’ll pay for some food if you want some food but I’ll leave you alone too-” 

“…what’s your name again?” the soldier’s voice was low and smooth, a hint of an accent that sounded almost Russian edging the letters. 

“Oh.” Tony’s laugh was stunned and maybe even a little self deprecating. “I’m not used to people not knowing that already. Uh my name is Tony. Everyone just calls me Tony.” 

“Tony.” the guy stood up and oh he was outright huge, looming several inches over Tony and dwarfing him in his shadow. “So we leavin’ now?” 

“Oh, you’re–” Tony blinked in surprise. “You’re coming. I can’t believe my speech worked. Which part of the millions of words I just blathered convinced you to come along? Was it the part about heaven? Or how I got a bunch of houses? Which was it?” 

“None of it.” the soldier shrugged, then flinched when his left shoulder awkwardly pulled, lagged, dragging slower behind the right side. “But I got nothing to lose, and you’ve got bout the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen, so what’s the harm?” 

“What?” Tony didn’t mean to cheese it up with a grin but he couldn’t remember the last time a simple compliment had quite literally warmed him to his toes. “You like my smile?” 

“Sure do.” Red lips twitched up at the corner like the soldier wanted to smile too. “We goin’ right now?” 

“Yeah, yeah right now.” Tony tossed a handful of bills on the table, whistled for the waitress and pointed to the pile so she knew to apply it to his bill as well, then shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, looking the soldier over again. “Still a little shocked you didn’t figure out who I was but that’s okay, sort of loving the non- paparazzi hounded approach right now. What can I call you?” 

The big brunette hesitated, started to speak and then stopped, started and stopped like he couldn’t quite remember his name, which was insane right? Who didn’t know their own name?

“…James.” he finally said, slowly and almost like he didn’t believe it himself. “My name is James.” 

“James.” Tony repeated and the half smile on the soldiers lips widened to something nearly breathtaking. Wow. “Good to know you.” 

“Good to know you too.” James tilted his head and looked Tony over with something unreadable and almost hungry in his gaze. “You gonna take me home, or what?” 

Chapter Text

It was bright outside the diner and James blinked once, twice to let his eyes adjust before following the stranger– Tony– out onto the sidewalk. 

It was bright and James clocked six people wearing sunglasses as they hurried from place to place and one wearing sunglasses on top their head so they wouldn’t disrupt a professionally done hairstyle. One woman on the phone wearing blue jeans, pink shirt, teal purse, cheap jewelry and layered on make up. One man in a suit that had seen better days, worn patches at the elbows but a new tie. A couple fresh out of an argument, the boy walked hostile and the girl walked afraid. 

The subway roaring in the background, the stench of traffic, the smell of soup–white bean and sausage. James knew because they’d served the same thing at the shelter last night which meant the person with hunched shoulders and furtive eyes had also been at the shelter and click click click James’s mind snapped to the third bed from the wall last night, the one with a faded backpack and brand new key chains and a woman named–

“I lost you for a minute there, didn’t I? What were you looking at?” 

The stranger– Tony– Tony’s voice broke into his thoughts and James switched gears immediately, blinked out of the habit of surveillance mode and down into dark eyes, mentally backtracking to remember the question. 

“You saw everything, didn’t you?” Tony almost sounded amused as he glanced between James and the busy street. “I do that too. Notice everything about everyone in a half second and try to remember it all? I mean, I don’t do it in the intense broody way you do, but it’s a lot right?”

Tony made a motion at his temple. “It’s a lot to process. I get it. Need another minute?” 

Yes. 

No. 

It wouldn’t do any good to explain how he knew to watch everything and precisely catalogue what he saw, it didn’t matter to anyone but James that he couldn’t even inhale without the instinct to hold his breath and clear his mind before pulling a trigger. 

James didn’t remember ever pulling a trigger in his life, but the instinct to freeze was still there and it won out now, his breath catching and mind specifically blanking before he answered, “I’m fine.” 

He wasn’t fine, though. 

It was bright outside, bright and busy and when James had come to the diner for a cup of coffee it had been dark and empty. He remembered choosing a corner booth– always a corner booth– and nursing one-two-three cups of coffee as the sun rose and he remembered watching every customer that came through the door including the one Tony who had shown up and offered to change his life right alongside a smile that did funny things to James’s heart. 

He remembered all that but he didn’t remember it getting bright outside. 

How long was I in the diner this time? 

Usually a waitress would come by the table and remind him that it was lunch or that he’d been there since lunch and now it was dinner but today they hadn’t said anything, or maybe James had been so lost he just hadn’t heard them. 

…how long? 

Time escaped James these days. He saw everything and everyone but time was always just out of his reach. Had it been hours or half a day since he’d sat down for a cup of coffee? Weeks or months that he’d been staying off and on at the shelter and sweeping floors in exchange for a bed? A year since he’d come to beneath that bridge with no recollection of what had happened to his arm? Two years? Three? 

…. Seconds or minutes since Tony had asked him another question and James had faded out into the confusion of time and feeling stuck while the entire world moved around him. 

How long was I in the diner this time? 

“Malibu or New York?” Tony was asking conversationally, easily, no sign of irritation or stress in his eyes or posture so it must not have been too long between questions while James was thinking. “Do you want sky scrapers or the beach cos I can do either. I have a better set up in Malibu if you’re okay with plane ride,s, but we could just drive to Manhattan and my facility there. What do you think?” 

Breathe in, clear your mind, pull the trigger speak. 

“I think I’m okay with planes.” James said slowly, clearly. “Feel like I don’t love trains all that much though.” 

“I don’t love trains much either.” Tony pulled out the fanciest phone James had ever seen and tapped at the screen a few times before putting it to his ear. “Malibu it is, you’ll love the– Pepper. Hey. Yeah I’m fine. Nope, don’t do that. Pep– Pep–” 

Tony stepped away so James wouldn’t have to overhear what was apparently an argument, and James exhaled and watched, breathed and cataloged and filed away everything he saw. 

Fancy suit, fancy shoes, fancy accessories, messy hair. Straight posture, well groomed, assured and self confident. Fast talking, quick thinking, lying through his teeth. 

Tony was lying, smile forced and forehead creasing even though he kept assuring the person on the other end that everything was fine. He rubbed at his chest, then played with his tie as a distraction. Scuffed his shoes into the dirt and didn’t blink, but scowled down at a still red pin prick at the tip of his finger. 

“I said I’m fine.” Lying through his teeth. “The car is already on its way. No, I didn’t do anything drastic. Well, not drastic for me.” 

Tony was hiding from the woman on the phone, hiding whatever at his chest was hurting him and James didn’t like that. Red flag. People were always one thing or another– benign or a threat. Honest or lying. Harmful or harmless. Target or collateral damage. Mission or neutral. Asleep or activated. 

Activated made his head hurt, brought on the same swift migraine it always did and James blinked once, twice, breathed and forced himself not to react to the sudden pain. 

Hiding. Blank. Lost. 

“Sorry about that.” Tony was back, and his smile for James was more real than his smile at the phone had been. “Car should be here in a minute. Do you have any belongings we need to get? An apartment to clear out or anything like that? Job to quit?” 

James thought about the extra set of clothing he kept in the locker at the shelter, the box of cleaning and maintenance supplies with his name on it, and the few blankets he had rolled up beneath his semi-permanent bed. 

“No.” he decided. There were others around that could use the clothes and blankets more than he could at this point. “No. I don’t have anything I need to get.” 

“Oh.” Tony’s mouth opened, then closed again, curiosity and something almost like grief flickering in his eyes. “Got it. We’ll get back to my hotel so I can get my stuff, if you want to shower you can shower and I’ll get you some clothes ordered and then we can leave. Do you know your size right off the top of your head?” 

James lowered his brows negatively and Tony nodded that he understood. “Never mind, I can take care of that too. Here’s the car, are you ready?” 

Ready, soldier? 

“I’m ready.” 

A sleek black car pulled to the curb and Tony opened the door for James, motioning him inside and onto the leather seats. “Do you have any preference for what you want to wear? Jeans? Not jeans? Are you more of a long sleeve guy or do you prefer short sleeves so they are easier to–” Tony’s gaze dropped to the empty sleeve. “– pin up.” 

“I’ve got money to buy my own clothes.” James settled onto the plush seat and muffled a groan. Sleeping on a cot at the shelter hadn’t bothered him but now that he was on something actually soft, James realized he was sore clear down to his bones. “Thanks all the same.” 

“I’m not saying you don’t have money, I’m saying I have more money.” Tony was tapping at his phone again, but paused and grimaced apologetically. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to come across as an asshole there.” 

James only shrugged, too focused on ignoring the sharpening migraine and quietly loving the seats to worry how someone sounded and whether or not there was anything remotely normal about this interaction. 

Time had passed him by. He had ingrained habits and instincts that lent credence to some sort of horrifying past. There were nightmares he didn’t understand filled with red stars and freezing cold and losing his arm. Days stretched endless and when dark fell sometimes James didn’t know if he wanted to try and see another sunrise. 

But Tony’s entire attitude towards him was both understanding and somehow hopeful, the underlying pain in the dark eyes overshadowed by wonder when James said yes to his proposition and even now as Tony got back on the phone and lied to Pepper about how he was just fine and everything was under control, the smile he sent James was brilliant and honest and beautiful. 

Tony might be lying to everyone about whatever was going on, but he wasn’t lying to James. 

That was enough for right now. 

And if it wasn’t, James didn’t have anything to lose anyway. 

******************

******************

“Yeah hey, I need some clothes sent up.” Tony was still on the phone when they arrived at the hotel, switching from one call to the other as he herded James into the elevator and sent it rocketing towards the penthouse suite. “No not a suit, I think it’s too early for that. Jeans and some basic shirts, maybe a jacket.” 

The concierge on the other end chattered on for a minute and Tony looked James over faux seriously. “Ummm size? Beefy. Beefy sized.” 

James looked away and tried not to smile, but Tony elbowed him lightly and winked in the mirrored walls. “Intimate apparel? Yes…?” he hesitated and James gave a short nod. “Yes. Size? Well he’s bigger than me, that’s for damn sure. Am I nosy enough to ask? You know what, it turns out I am.” 

Tony put a hand over the speaker and pointed to James’s waist. “What size is your belt?” 

“Dunno.” James shrugged and Tony flinched in sympathy when the left shoulder barely moved. “Just fits, I guess.” 

“Can I check?” Tony took a step away from James before asking to get close, one hand held up peacefully so the soldier wouldn’t shy away. “Just the tag?” 

He never used to ask about this sort of thing. Most people touched him without pausing to check in first. Doctors were the worst, but so were politicians and anyone else who wanted a chance for a photo op with Tony Stark. Paparazzi who needed a picture, fans who ranged from wanting to smell his cologne to actually trying to steal his clothes. Pepper who just grabbed his hand and directed him places, Rhodey who had more than once slung a too drunk Tony over his shoulder and carried him away. 

People just touched Tony and in turn, Tony had learned to just touch people. Who needed to ask for permission when everyone wanted a piece of him? 

…but then Obadiah had paralyzed him, rendered him completely helpless and loomed over the couch horrifying and big, tore Tony’s heart out right from his chest and smiled about it and now– now the thought of being touched without permission made Tony sick to his stomach. 

So he paused to ask, “Can I check?” and James went oddly still for a split second, thinking. 

And oh Tony recognized that look, that look that wondered ‘am I allowed to say no’ and he was already backing up another step before James answered, already planning on just dropping it and guessing at beefy sizes but then James muttered, “Sure.” and motioned him back in. 

“Yeah?” Tony checked again, just one more time and once James nodded, he tugged at the back of the belt to read the number. “Thank you.” 

And back on the phone– “Waist size thirty four, seventy two or three inches tall, and probably twice as wide as me in the shoulders. Yeah, we need some extra give there. Nothing uh– nothing that wrinkles. Easy movement, no buttons. Colors?” 

He glanced over at James, who shook his head. “Shades of blue and give me something in dark red.” 

“Blue and dark red, huh?” James asked as the elevator slowed. “Why those colors?” 

“Cos I think you’d look good in–” Tony stopped before he blurted out something awkward. “Cos everyone feels comfortable in blue and obnoxious shades of red are my go to color of choice.” 

“Seems fair.” the edge of Russian to James’s words made them sound clipped, almost disapproving. “Nice room.” 

“It’s um–” Tony looked around the over sized suite, at the floor to ceiling windows and overly plush furniture, the double doors that led to one of the two bedrooms and private bathrooms, then back at the almost definitely homeless soldier. “It’s unnecessary and pretentious.” he finally finished. “And I didn’t realize how over the top it was till just now.” 

The corner of James’s mouth tipped up in a knowing smile and Tony relaxed again. No judgment there. “You can use my shower since I think Pepper wouldn’t understand a strange man in her bathroom.” he pointed towards the far bedroom. “Take your time and use whatever soap or shampoo or random toiletries they got in there. I got charged enough for this room, someone should use all the included in price stuff. Oh and you can…” 

Tony tilted his head and narrowed his eyes when he saw just how slowly James reached for the bedroom doorknob. “It’s screwed on pretty tight, James. Pretty sure you aren’t going to break it.” 

“I know.” James said almost shortly. “Just being careful anyway.” 

“Ooookay.” Tony watched for another few seconds as James carefully carefully opened the door, then seemed to breathe a sigh of relief once it opened without any damage. Interesting. “Anyway. Take your time. I should have some extra clothes for you by the time you get out.” 

“Thank you.” James’s eyes widened briefly when he saw the massive bed taking up most of the bedroom. “Be out soon.” 

“Sure.” Tony waited until the door clicked shut, then waited longer to make sure the shower had started before getting back on his phone and accessing his mainframe back in Malibu. 

“Yes sir?” JARVIS intoned. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a senate hearing at this very moment?” 

“Yeah, I stopped for lunch.” Tony could almost feel the disapproval from his AI right through the phone. “Send out a ‘to do’ list for the housekeeper, I need one of the guest rooms opened up and aired out, I’m bringing someone home with me.” 

“An overnight guest, sir? Should I enact the usual Taking Out The Trash Protocol?” 

“Not this time, but I’m going to tell Pepper you named that protocol after how she treats my hook ups and you’re going to be in trouble.” 

“I wish you wouldn’t, sir.” 

“Too late, done and done.” Tony looked over his shoulder at the closed bathroom door. “Order in double our usual amount of groceries and prep a diagnostic program in the lab. I want up to date specs on that arm piece I abandoned a couple weeks ago and a generic run of the first steps to convert it into something less Iron Man and more normal man.” 

“You want to turn your multi million dollar piece of Iron Man armor tech into a prosthesis, sir?” 

“That’s right.” 

“Very well, anything else?” 

“How is our facial recognition software?” 

“Still better than the governments, sir.” 

“Eh, that doesn’t mean much. Beef it up for me, please. I’ll need it right away when I get home.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“See you soon, J.” 

Tony disconnected the call and kicked off his shoes, opened the door to Pepper’s bedroom and climbed right onto her bed to bury his face in strawberry shampoo scented pillows. 

He was exhausted. Nineteen percent and Senate hearing bull shit and the surprisingly emotional toll of meeting James had left him exhausted. He just needed to sleep and maybe Pepper wouldn’t mind if he just drifted off for a little bit…

…just a little bit…

***********

***********

The first time James had snapped a doorknob off in his hand, he chalked it up to a shitty installation and sub par construction in a less than ideal part of town. 

But then he’d turned the water on and ripped the faucet apart, stumbled back into a wall and fell right through when the over hard mass of his left shoulder broke the plaster and sent it crumbling.

James had over corrected and fallen again, smacked his nose on the twist of pipes and spilled blood everywhere— blood that stopped dripping from a fully healed nose in a matter of seconds. 

He’d obsessed about it for a while afterwards. Broken his knuckles just to see them heal. Tore a door off its hinges with nothing more than a shift of his weight and a quick jerk. Took off running through the back streets and alleys and stopped after six hours because he was bored, not winded. Went to a bar to get drunk and never managed even tipsy, joined a brawl just to test his reflexes and caught a bottle coming from behind his back with out even looking. 

James had obsessed about it, tapped his limited memory over and over trying to find a hint, a clue, just a tiny piece of anything to explain something about himself but all he accomplished was nose bleeding migraines and nightmares that grew increasingly violent night after restless, anxious night.

He didn’t sleep– couldn’t sleep– and after weeks had gone by and the days bled together and James couldn’t face another night without rest, he had given up looking for answers and settled for just breathing. 

In and out. Measured breaths. Careful with his strength. Focused and slow with his reflexes. Purposeful movements and deliberate words. In and out. Breathe. 

Breathe. 

The hotel shower was too hot on James’s skin, almost scalding as he shook his tangled hair free of the tie back and let it loose along his shoulders. It was uncomfortably long these days but a hair cut wasn’t an option. Barber chairs with arm rests and foot bars made him anxious for some reason, buzzers too close to his temple made him want to scream, and the first time James had forced himself to sit still through the panic attack, he’d nearly broken the hair stylists hand as he tried to escape. 

No haircuts. Lots of shampoo instead. James emptied the complimentary shampoo bottle washing his hair twice, used every drop of conditioner and the entire thing of body wash, tore the plastic cover off a new toothbrush and used most of the travel sized toothpaste as well. 

The shower was too hot but James stayed under the spray until his skin went red and the lather had washed away and only then did he reluctantly step out of the basin and onto the soft rug, grabbing at the thickest towel he’d ever seen to pat himself dry. 

It was a nice shower and a nice room and a far cry from a cot and communal locker room at the shelter, a far cry from the misery James had called life for a year– had it really only been a year?– now. 

“Tony?” Clothes were nowhere to be found in the bedroom and James had a fleeting, panicked second of not knowing how much time had passed again before he tightened the towel around his waist and went looking for answers. “Tony? Are you still here?” 

“Hey, still here.” Tony emerged from the other bedroom rubbing sleep from his eyes, hair hilariously rumpled and suit wrinkled beyond repair. “Hey how was your….shower…” 

The words trailed off to nothing, Tony’s head tipped far to the side and his mouth a little slack, eyes going wide. “How was your shower?” 

James instinctively took a step away from the stare, tried to angle his body sideways to hide the mass of scars and mottled skin at his left shoulder, grimaced and curled in a little so Tony wouldn’t see the empty where his arm used to be. 

He hated this, hated when people looked at him on the street or at the shelter. Those people never even wanted to see him, they didn’t want to see homeless and they didn’t want to see hurt but they looked and they stared and they gawked at his injury and it bothered James more than he expected to have Tony looking and staring and gawking too.

“The shower was fine.” he said shortly, brusquely. “Where are my clothes?”  

“Clothes… right… that’s a thing.” Tony kept looking and just when James was ready to shout about it–

–Tony blinked, then blinked again and wet his lips and oh. 

Oh, well that was different then. 

People didn’t want to see homeless or hurt but they had stared at James because he was different and damaged. But Tony was looking like he liked what he saw, biting at his lip and eyes glazing over and then it was a whole other set of instincts that had James straightening up and tipping his chin, rolling his shoulders and clearing his throat so Tony would know he knew. 

He knew what that look meant but before James could wonder why he knew or whether he’d used those particular instincts before or not the door to the suite banged open and the moment was broken in spectacular fashion. 

“Anthony Edward Stark! You have got some explaining to do!” The stranger was tall and gorgeous in the way all powerful women were and James knew just looking at her that this dame got what she wanted and wouldn’t hear argument over it. 

He was proved right when the newcomer spun around on incredibly high heels and pointed a finger right at his chest, neither put off by his lack of clothing nor intimidated by his size. “And you! I don’t know who you are, but you are not leaving this room until I’ve vetted you properly, so stay put.” 

“I don’t know what the hell this is.” she was practically hissing yet Tony looked like maybe he was going to laugh any second. “And I know you know I’m fine with– with–” a vague motion over James’s near nakedness. “– but you cannot just take a strange man up to the hotel room without informing me first! You said you were fine and hadn’t done anything drastic, Tony!” 

“Oh come on.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Even if this was what you think it is– and by the way, it isn’t? Even if it was, be honest. This isn’t even close to the worst thing you’ve caught me doing.” 

“Tony.” Pepper pinched at the bridge of her nose and visibly grappled for calm.“I just had to field half a dozen calls from various gossip rags wondering who the rent boy was accompanying you to your suite! Honestly, Tony! Just a little discretion! Just a tiny bit!” 

“Pepper.” Tony really did have a beautiful smile even when it was strained around the edges, and James kept one eye on the volatile redhead and one eye on the way Tony’s dark eyes dimmed in sadness even as his smile stretched bigger. “Give me a little credit. I’d sneak rent boys through the back elevator.” 

“Ohhhh my god, I need a drink.” Pepper marched towards the bar and started rummaging around for a glass. “You know, It’s bad enough you were so terrible at the hearings today. But then to just bolt out of the car in the middle of traffic–” 

“–aspirin.” Tony tossed her a bottle and she caught it one handed. “And I was hungry.” 

“–and I had no idea where you were for hours. Only to find out you’ve been yukking it up–” 

“–yukking it up? Seriously?” 

“–with admittedly the hottest guy I’ve seen in ages.” Pepper tossed back a handful of headache medication and downed it with a measure of scotch. “Couldn’t you have called me? A text. Just one. One where you actually used real words to say what was going on, not meaningless platitudes and your ‘everything is fine’ bull shit. Just tell me truth so I know you aren’t off doing something incredibly dangerous like taking the suit–” 

She paused, narrowed her eyes back at James. “–suitcase out and making a scene.” 

“I wasn’t doing anything with the suit case.” Tony stole one more look at James. “And I wasn’t doing anything with James either, except getting him some new clothes and seeing how the new prosthesis I have in Malibu will fit on his shoulder.” 

“New prosthesis, is that what you’re calling it?” Pepper’s attitude shifted only minutely, but James picked up on it immediately. Prosthesis and suitcase– they were talking about something else all together, something he wasn’t allowed to know yet. “I see. How… interesting.” 

Yeah, this was interesting alright. 

“You’ll have to forgive me.” Pepper was suddenly calm smiles and professional demeanor, a light switch change that told James she’d gone from stressed out to in front of cameras plenty of times. “I was so worried about Tony I forgot this sort of scene can be awkward for newcomers.” 

“What Pepper means is, ignore my crazy and her Smother Henning, all things considered this isn’t even a very weird Tuesday for us.” Tony’s smile was a little more forced than it had been just a few minutes ago. “Uh Pep, this is James. I met him in the diner and decided he would be an excellent recipient for the prosthesis I’ve been working on. James this is Pepper Potts, my executive assistant and doer of all things–” he waved his hand vaguely. “–necessary.” 

“Don’t let Tony full you, he would utterly fall to pieces without me there to keep him upright.” Pepper extended a slim hand and benign smile towards James. “Fortunately we love each other dearly so Smother Henning or not–” Tony snorted a laugh. “– and despite what you just witnessed, we usually work very well together.”

“So long as I’m not scandalizing the press and making the company look bad, right Pep?” Tony was clearly only half joking, and Pepper was clearly half sad when she murmured, “There’s more important things than scandalizing the press, Tony. I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay.” 

“Everything’s fine.” Tony was lying, but James didn’t say anything about it. “Hows the plane coming?” 

“I’ll call ahead and let them know to expect another passenger.” There was a knock at the door and Pepper went to answer it, calling over her shoulder, “But we have to leave soon, Tony! If you aren’t staying for the hearings tomorrow we have meetings in Malibu to attend!” 

“Sure we do.” Tony turned back to James with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about all that. Pepper really is my everything. She answers the phones and fields weird questions and keeps the press off my back. It’s only because of her the tabloids don’t know how bad I am.”  

“What does that mean?” 

“It means I’m at least three times as reckless and twice as obnoxious as they think.” Tony took a bag of clothes from Pepper when she returned, blew her a kiss as she hurried away again, then pushed the bag into James’s hand. “Pepper makes me look good, which makes her a bonafide miracle worker. Don’t let the high heels and terrifying power suits scare you, she’s about as sweet as they come.” 

“Huh.” James peeked into the bag, then back up at Tony. “You love her.” 

“I–” Tony blinked in surprise. “Well. Yes. I adore her.” 

“Huh.” James said again, and left it at that, keeping his other observations to himself. “Guess I’ll go get dressed.” 

“You do that.” There was none of that look in Tony’s eyes this time as he turned away, none of the blatant interest or lingering lust that had sparked so bright before Pepper had interrupted. “When was the last time you were on a plane? Ever been on a jet?” 

“Not that I remember.” James went back to the bedroom to change again. “Is that a problem?” 

“Nope.” Tony’s voice was muffled behind the door. “Not a problem at all. We’ll figure it out.” 

**************

**************

The jet was over the top just like the hotel room had been, stuffed plush chairs and thick carpet, a full size couch and a fully stocked bar, stewardesses in matching uniforms with a Stark logo emblazoned on their lapel. One asked James if he was ready for a drink before he’d even gotten buckled in, another came by with a hot towel for some reason and a third slipped a menu into his hand in case he was hungry. 

Pepper ignored everything except for the drink and settled in at one of the chairs closest to the front of the plane with a pile of paperwork and her phone. Tony ignored even the drinks and sat down across from James as the plane readied for take off, gazed out the window at the disappearing runway with a grim expression and a hand over his heart like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. 

James tried to watch out the window too but the height made his stomach swoop, so he went back to checking out the interior cabin, noting the different stewardesses and how each acted around Pepper and around Tony, watching Pepper’s brow wrinkle in thought as she typed at her phone and finally, inevitably, watching Tony watching the clouds outside. 

“You’re staring.” Time had gotten away from James again and he jumped when Tony spoke, had no idea how long he’d been zoned out.

“What?” he refocused, recalibrated, drew his concentration in tight until he could hear every word. “What did you say?” 

“You’re staring.” Tony repeated, no censure in the words but no smile either. “What did I do, sprout two heads or something?” 

“Nah, sugar, you’re real good looking.” The words came easy, too easy for how foreign they were on his tongue, too easy for the way Tony’s eyes flew open wide and up ahead of them Pepper choked on her drink and coughed over loud. 

When did he learn how to flirt? 

And for a moment James thought he’d said the wrong thing. He’d sure as hell said something unintended but it had slipped out without thinking, had been almost natural especially after the way Tony had looked at him in the hotel room. 

But then again, James could have read the look wrong, could be Tony hadn’t been thinking what James thought he’d been thinking and if that was the case then they probably were crossing signals all over the place and that probably meant Malibu wasn’t a good idea–. 

–“Well, you’re real good looking too.” Tony finally said, eyes soft and sort of surprised, his posture uncertain and the way he pressed over his heart anxious. 

But his smile was real, hopeful and even a little shy so maybe– maybe James hadn’t read that look wrong after all. 

Maybe Malibu would be better than he thought. 

…maybe this would be the first step towards James not being so lost anymore. 

Chapter Text

Malibu 

“So this is my uh–” Tony waved an uncaring hand towards the everything in the foyer of the Malibu house. “– my stuff, I guess. There’s some paintings Pepper is really proud of and some fancy windows and um–” he pursed his lips and blew out a breath. “–there used to be a piano there but something fell on it. The floor used to be a different color too and I’m not a fan of this particular design but after a hole sort of spontaneously appeared where the piano used to be– through absolutely no fault of my own, I’d like to add–” 

“Tony.” Pepper interrupted and Tony switched gears immediately. 

“– over there are some stairs and down here we have some different stairs and your room can be anywhere except for right there.” he pointed down a side hall. “That’s where my room is. There’s three or four on the other side of the house you’re welcome to use annnnnnnd….” 

Tony spun around in a circle, looking for all the world like he’d never put two seconds of thought into where anything in his house was, and James watched with a half amused smile before asking, “Sure this is your house? Seems like you don’t know where anything is.” 

“Well to be fair, I usually show people this way–” Tony mimed an air traffic controller pointing from the front door through the foyer. “–and then this way–” dramatic points down the hall towards his bedroom. “–and then Pepper shows them this way.” equally dramatic points towards what looked like the world’s most ornate waste basket. “I’ve never had to give the full tour.” 

“Oh for heaven’s sake.” There went Pepper pinching the bridge of her nose again. “Tony, I will give James the tour and get him settled. You need to get downstairs and onto the computer or at least sit down and look through your phone. You have no less than four hundred emails waiting to be read and–” 

“–trashed–” 

“–replied to. JARVIS?” Pepper looked up at the ceiling, and in a moment of confusion, James looked up at the ceiling as well. “JARVIS please don’t let Tony delete those emails until he reads them all!” 

“Yes, ma’am.” intoned a voice from somewhere everywhere and James had to physically quell the urge to bolt, had to swallow back a wave of nausea when the voice reverberated in his head alongside the memory of orders and commands and the feeling of watching himself do horrible things. 

“James?” 

He had been screaming, locked away in his own head and pounding at too thick glass, crying in despair as someone not him loaded a rifle and stared down the sights at an innocent heart, an innocent body, an innocent soul and fingers James couldn’t control reached to pull a trigger and click click click he could almost taste it–

“James!” 

“I’m with you.” James snapped out of the waking nightmare, alert and focused and acutely aware of Tony’s hand at his chest. “What happened?” 

“What happened?” Tony lowered his brows and searched James’s face for any lingering hint of whatever had made the ex soldier go so awfully blank when JARVIS spoke. “We lost you for a minute, you locked right up when J talked. Are you okay?” 

“Perhaps I should have spoken at a lower register so I wouldn’t confuse our guest.” JARVIS decided, softer but still no less startling, and James went stiff all over again. “Or perhaps I’ll stay silent for the time being.” 

“Hey hey, you’re okay.” Tony’s hand was still over James’s heart, but he didn’t bother moving it when he felt the big brunette shift forward the tiniest bit, leaning harder into his palm. “I should have warned you about J, he can be disconcerting if you aren’t expecting to hear voices from sort of everywhere.” 

“I’m with you.” James said again and after a seconds hesitation, he shifted away from Tony, erasing the contact between them. His chest burned though, where Tony’s fingers had rested for just a minute. When was the last time anyone touched him? “I’m fine.” 

“Sure.” Tony shoved his hand into his pocket like it didn’t hurt just a little bit to be accepted and then effectively rejected all within a few seconds. Stupid, to let it bother him. James had much bigger issues and more important things to worry about than whether or not Tony was half desperate for human contact. “Yeah sure, you’re fine. Pep, you’ll show James to a spare room?” 

“Of course.” Pepper looked between James standing ramrod stiff in the foyer and then over to where Tony was all but running for the stairs. Hm. “James? This way.” 

The soldier turned on his heel and followed her without a word, almost robotic in his gestures, the previous light of amusement in his pale eyes dimmed to nothing. 

“I’m sorry about Tony.” Pepper commented over her shoulder, working to disguise the uneasiness that blank expression gave her. “He means well but even on a good day he’s scattered. Work is busy enough but then he decided to bring the Expo back to New York and that has taken up our entire life.” 

“Expo.” The word almost like a memory in James’s head. “What’s an Expo?” 

“It’s like the worlds biggest science fair.” Pepper laughed quietly. “Very fun for everyone except the people–” she pointed to herself. “–who have to figure out the logistics of an event this size. It’s been decades since Stark Industries put on one of these things, and Tony’s dad presented at one of the very first ones back in forties. It’s a lot of legacy and a lot of pressure and unfortunately, it’s just about all any of us can think about right now so you’ll have to excuse the hectic around here.” 

Pepper was lying– well not quite lying. Not outright lying, but she wasn’t telling the entire truth either and even though James noted the stress lines at the corner of her green eyes and the too tense set to Pepper’s delicate jaw, he didn’t call her out on the mis-truth. 

“The voice?” he asked instead. “JARVIS? What is he?” 

“Jarvis was Tony’s butler growing up.” Pepper pushed open a door on the left and it swung open into an over sized bedroom. “When Tony designed his AI system– ah, his artificial intelligence system– he named it after the man who had taught him the most. JARVIS takes care of everything digital in Tony’s life, and I take care of everything else.” 

Pepper waited politely as James looked around the bedroom, then sat almost warily on the king sized bed. “If you need anything at all, please ask JARVIS first and if needed, he will contact me. Tony spends most of his time downstairs in the lab, and I’m apologizing in advance for his erratic eating schedule and lack of anything approaching tactfulness.”

“He’s fine.” James said mildly. “Tony’s just fine, but thank you.” 

“I’m sure we can get something set up for you as far as clothes and an allowance goes, but in the meantime please help yourself to anything you find to eat or use in the house.” Pepper’s phone buzzed and she checked it with nothing more than a quick glance. “You’ll have to excuse me, I need to take this call. Are you alright here?” 

“I’m fine.” Bucky settled heavier onto the mattress and clasped his hands between his knees. “Thank you.” 

“It’s no problem.” Pepper offered him a bright smile. “Have a nice rest of your day.” 

She closed the bedroom door behind as she left, leaving James alone to look around at the mostly empty space, the vacant beach and endless ocean outside the windows, the lack of pictures or personal touches or anything that looked remotely like home. 

“Feels lonely.” James muttered, and no one answered him back. 

Lonely. 

***************

***************

“Tony.” The doors to the lab swished open and JARVIS commented, “At your right, Ms. Potts.” just in time for Pepper to neatly sidestep a pile of cable. “Tony?” 

“Over here.” Tony came out from the bathroom still buttoning his shirt up over the blue glow of the arc reactor, and when Pepper’s eyes dropped to watch, he reached for a hoodie to tug over his head as well. “Everything okay? James okay?” 

“I don’t know if he’s okay.” Pepper set a bottle of water down on the closest table. “I don’t know anything about him. What I’m more worried about though is whether or not you know anything about him. Where did you even meet a most likely homeless and fairly severely wounded war veteran, Tony?” 

“At lunch.” Tony patted his thigh when Dum-E clicked and whirred from the small fridge in the corner, and the robot rolled his way clutching a cup filled with a stomach turning green concoction. “At the diner I told you I wanted to find. Even though I just realized I never actually got any food? Ordered some pancakes from a waitress with incredible eyebrows who clearly thought I was risking my life just for some breakfast food but–” 

“Tony.” Pepper nearly whispered, uncertain and a little sad and Tony’s mouth clicked shut. “Seriously, what are you doing with this guy? Do you even know his last name? Or where he’s from?” 

“Don’t know either of those things, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t either.” 

“He doesn’t know his own last name?” 

“I’m not even a hundred percent certain he was a hundred percent certain of James.” Tony rolled the cup between his palms, chewed at the inside of his cheek as he tried to think.” I’m just uh– just trying to do something good with all this tech. Do something good with my life. You can’t possibly be mad about that, right? Even if it involves strangers and random cravings for greasy food?” 

“Tony, you have done plenty of good for the world.” Pepper hastened to assure him. “More than enough for one man, in fact. Enough that you don’t need projects like James to assuage some unfounded measure of guilt.” 

“Have I done enough good?” Tony challenged. “J, why don’t you go ahead and play the tapes from the Senate hearing?” 

“Oh no, please don’t.” Pepper frowned when the holographic screens filled with footage from the hearings today and weeks past, the clear disapproval on the committees faces, snapshots of interviews with military personnel condemning the suit as a potential threat, the demands from war widows insisting the armor be shared with everyone instead of just kept to one man, because maybe that would have brought their husband home again. 

“You can’t listen to all that, Tony.” Pepper waved her hand and JARVIS obediently shut the television off. “Those are just a few voices, everyone else knows you’re a hero. Besides, you’ve done so much good in your life before Iron Man– charities and benefits and you fund scholarships and hand out grants to any college kid with half an idea and the determination to make it work. Iron Man didn’t do all of that, Tony Stark did.” 

“Yeah well, Tony Stark and Iron Man are one and the same, aren’t they?” Tony flinched over a gulp of the horrible shake. “And right now, we’re everyone’s favorite scapegoat so we’re trying to do a little bit of good to balance it all out.” 

“Tony.” Pepper watched him shudder through another drink. “Have you put any more thought into calling Sam Wilson? He comes with such great recommendations and specifically working with people with PTS–” 

“What if I die before falling in love?” Tony interrupted before Pepper could suggest a grief counselor or a trauma counselor like she’d been mentioning on a weekly basis since Obadiah had– since he’d gone. 

Sure, having the man he called Uncle and halfway considered Dad betray him and literally sell him off to terrorists had fucked with Tony’s head a little bit. And no, having to design a miniaturized arc reactor in a cave with a box of scraps just to keep himself alive before coming home and fighting his most trusted advisor to the death hadn’t been great for his emotional well being. And okay maybe the nightmares were out of control and his mental stability varied day to day and fine fine fine he hadn’t been at his most charming or in control when he flipped off Senator Stern but he was not about to talk to a counselor. 

Talking to a counselor would mean admitting something was actually wrong with his heart and his head and his body, and that was asking too much. Nineteen percent was about all Tony could admit to right now, so a counselor was out of the question.

“What if I die before falling in love?” he asked again. “Is that a thing? Do people do that?” 

“Are you–” Pepper blinked at him. “Are you serious?” 

“Shockingly serious, yes.” he nodded, grit his teeth and chugged the rest of the shake and put the empty bottle back in Dum-E’s claw. “What if I do that?” 

“That’s– that’s ridiculous.” she stammered. “Tony, you’ve been in love before!” 

“Nope.” Tony managed to make his fall into a nearby chair seem petulant and maybe even a touch dramatic, but really it was weak knees and dizziness, a head rush as the green smoothie hit his system all at once and a whole lot of relief at finally being away from judgmental glares and thinly veiled insinuations that he wasn’t so different than the terrorists he fought.

“Nope.” He shook his head negatively, both driving home his point and trying to clear a headache. “Not in love. You and Rhodey are the closest thing and you’re more of a Smother Hen and he’s more of an enabler.”

“The Colonel does not enable—“ Pepper sighed. “Okay, point taken. But why are you even thinking about that, Tony? You’re barely in your early forties, you have plenty of time to fall in love.”

“Despite?” Tony prompted and Pepper smiled reluctantly, finishing, “Despite your terrible habits, reckless spending and inclination towards the unnecessary and ridiculous.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Tony tried to smile too. “These days we have to add ‘arc reactor, penchant for blowing things up and breaking the sound barrier’ as well as ‘possibly held in contempt by a Senate committee’ to that list, right?”

“Oh no, those all land under the umbrella for ridiculous.” Pepper came up behind him at the desk and wound her fingers into his hair, rested her chin on Tony’s head. “You aren’t going to talk to James about being Iron Man, are you?”

“Don’t see why I couldn’t.” Tony let his head fall back until Pepper could kiss his forehead. “He didn’t recognize the name Tony Stark right off the bat but he’s bound to put two and two together pretty quick. There’s not a whole lot of people as well known as I am and I guarantee I’m the only one with this thing in my chest.” He drummed his fingers on the casing of the reactor hidden beneath the hoodie. “He’ll figure it out and I don’t want to lie, so if he asks I’ll tell him.”

“Do you think he’ll ask?”

“Honestly?” Tony shrugged.”I’m not sure if he cares. James seems like there’s a million things going on in his head and all of it’s more important than what’s happening out here.”

“Hmmm.” Pepper hummed thoughtfully. “Remind you of anyone else we know?”

“Nah, I’ve got nothing going on in my brain beyond wondering if you got a new push up bra.” Tony teased and predictably, Pepper flicked his ear. “There’s just something about him, Pep. He looks lost. Looks like he wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to find answers. I want to help with that.” 

“We can’t have anyone discovering you’re handing out Iron Man tech to ex soldiers.” Pepper’s voice dipped in sympathy but she was serious when she added, “They already think you’re reckless, Tony. If word gets out you’re outfitting former, potentially dangerous, soldiers with modified armor the company could be in big trouble.”

“Don’t assume he’s dangerous because he’s traumatized.” Sharp, and maybe even hurt. “That isn’t fair.” 

“You know what I’m trying to say, Tony.” Pepper tugged at his hair just gently, apologetically, and Tony muffled a groan, sinking into the touch like he was starving, wishing he could just open his mouth and ask for a hug or for her to stay the night without sounding like he was just trying to get lucky. Part of Tony knew Pepper knew him well enough to recognize a cry for help when she heard it, but the other part of him knew she’d escorted too many of his one night stands out the front door to take his request to be held as platonic. 

“I know what you mean.” He managed instead and was rewarded with a brief squeeze at his shoulder. “I’ll be discreet.”

“Tony, you don’t know the meaning of that word.” 

She was quiet a moment, and then– “It’s weird how you and James sort of gravitate to each other.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that you are someone who barely likes to be touched, and James looks like he probably killed the last person to get into his space.” She explained. “But he leans into you and you seem like you lean towards him.” 

“Right.” Tony swallowed. “I barely like to be touched. Yeah, that’s– that’s a thing.” 

“Are you sure there isn’t something else going on here?” Pepper prodded gently. “Something you aren’t telling me?” 

“Something like what?” Tony tried for flippant. “You think I bailed on the Senate hearing and went to some gross diner to bring home a boy toy? C’mon Pep, have a little faith in my standards.” 

“You don’t have to say it like that, you know.” Damn it, Pepper sounded sad again and Tony just hated that. 

“Say it like what?” 

“Like you think I care one bit if you bring a guy home or not.” 

Tony smiled like he couldn’t hear Howard screaming in his head about being straight and being normal and not embarrassing the family and quipped, “Yeah, you don’t care so long as you don’t walk in on someone naked in your bathroom, right?” 

“Okay Tony in my defense–” 

“It was one time, Pep!” Tony laughed and jostled her lightly. “Let me live it down!” 

“You are ridiculous.” Pepper informed him, but she left one last sweet kiss on his forehead before moving away. “JARVIS, be sure Tony eats something tonight.”

“Yes, Ms. Potts.”

“Yes, Ms. Potts.” Tony faux mocked and Pepper shook her finger at him warningly before slipping out of the lab just as quietly as she’d come in. 

“Alright J, that was fun but we need to get to work.” Tony woke the computer up and opened a new file. “I need a full body scan of James from when he walked in the front door. Also, run him through some facial recognition software, try something with less facial hair. An enlistment photo would be a baby faced version and something tells me he was Army, maybe special forces.”

“Yes sir.” 

“And umm—“ Tony rubbed at his forehead, glancing sideways at the drawer where he kept the blood toxicity monitor. “Run a simulation on potential elements to replace the palladium. I’d like a usage to poison comparison so I can see just how extended use of the suit is affecting me and then let’s talk about less power heavy options for propulsion, something that drains the reactor a little less than the current standards.”

“Sir we know from previous simulations that there is no known element on earth to replace the palladium without accelerating your current levels of—“

“Just run the simulation, J!” Tony shouted, shouted then crumpled back into the chair and pressed a hand over his heart. “Shit. Just— just run it.”

“… yes sir.” 

The computers went to work, one screen compiling a scan and data on James, the other running simulation after simulation after unendingly devastatingly failed simulation for a replacement reactor core.

Tony watched the numbers run across the screen until they began to blur together, watched thousands of pictures blink in and out of the recognition software as JARVIS tried to match James to anyone listed on the Armed Forces Database. The information input was overwhelming to say the least, and Tony’s eyes flickered from screen to screen as they lit and dimmed, glared bright with information then darkened with a rejected simulation or negative match. 

Night fell outside the lab windows and still Tony sat in front of the computer, absorbing the data with a mostly unblinking gaze and a palm flattened over his chest, other hand picking idly at a loose thread on his pants. “Has to be a heavy element.” he muttered after another failed simulation for the arc reactor. “No, he’s not old enough to need records from the seventies.” he decided when JARVIS suggested broadening the search terms. “Shit I’m tired of watching myself die.” he cursed after another failed attempt, another holographic suit collapsing into nothing when the proposed element didn’t work. “J, there has to be something–” 

“Sir, an unexpected guest to the laboratory.” JARVIS interrupted, and Tony wiped the screens in a split second, putting both the simulation and the search on hold and spinning around in his chair with a ready smile and hopefully neutral expression in time for James to step through the doors. 

“James.” Tony’s smile broadened towards real when James offered him a hesitant one in return. “I didn’t expect you down here, what can I do for you?” 

“Am I allowed down here?” James paused mid step. “Pepper said I could go anywhere except your bedroom so…” 

“No no, come in.” Tony waved him in closer, gave a quick glance to make sure his computer had switched to the roadster screen saver, and then motioned at the soldier again. “Really it’s fine, come on in. J, Under the Rug Protocol please.” 

JARVIS didn’t answer, but across the lab several locks hissed and clicked into place on different platforms and even though James visibly noticed, he was too busy staring around the lab to bother commenting. 

Tony’s workspace was incredible– bigger than the soldier could have ever expected, lined with cars on one side and all glass walls on another, computers and screens wired or wireless on various tables and tools ranging from basic wrenches to what looked like full blown assembly robots in the corner. There were half created pieces scattered around, what looked like an entire tables worth of chemistry equipment, a random display of sunglasses, a shelf full of awards, random art stacked here and there and across the far wall, a half covered model of some sort of fairground complete with trees and sidewalks and little buildings.

It was incredible and in the middle of it all, Tony looked small in his worn hoodie and thick socks, maybe even out of place among the stainless steel and cold metal. It was hard to believe the well dressed, near frantic man from this morning was the same one who now sat relaxed and at ease among technology James couldn’t even begin to understand, that the same man who had stopped and stared when James came out of the shower was currently blinking at him as if there was nothing odd about their day, about their situation, about them. 

Belatedly, James remembered Tony had asked him a question and he pulled his mind from the awkwardly beguiling sight of Tony’s big toe sticking from a threadbare spot in his socks to answer, “It’s quiet up there.” 

 “Quiet.” Tony echoed. “You mean in your bedroom?” 

James nodded, and Tony hmmm’d thoughtfully. “I figured you’d enjoy the peace and quiet after living in the shelter.” whoops. “Or I mean, wherever you lived.” yikes. “Sorry I– where were you before this?” 

“The shelter on and off.” 

“Yeah, alright then.” Tony scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. Assuming James had been at the shelter both made sense and was a complete asshole move, but he was glad he’d managed to stop talking before really sticking his foot in it. “Too quiet up there, huh?” 

“It’s uh–” James hesitated a minute, weighing his words and trying to decide if it was too vulnerable a thing to admit. “It’s lonely. Up there. Quiet and– and lonely.” 

“Ah.” Tony cleared his throat, then hooked his ankle into a nearby chair and dragged it forward. “Well it can be lonely down here too. Why don’t you stay a while?” 

“You lonely down here?” A hint of a crooked smile, the bare edge of Russian on the words and something else smoother that reminded Tony of the guy who worked the newspaper kiosk at the Stark Industries Plaza in New York. “With all this stuff?” 

“Well–” A robot in the corner beeped almost obnoxiously, the voice in the ceiling made a noise almost like it was clearing it’s throat, and James’s mouth ticked up into a slow smile when Tony apologized out loud, “Sheesh sorry, guys. I was gonna say it was lonely down here except for you!” 

A different robot in the corner whirred and twisted in response, and Tony tossed a wadded up ball of paper towards it before turning back to James. “So. Can I ask how long you were at the shelter? How long you’ve been–” he made a vague motion. “– like this?” 

“At least a year.” James crossed the lab slowly, watching each step and his surroundings in case anything else that looked like a prop was also a semi sentient robot. “Maybe more.” 

“At least a year.” Tony’s mind went back to how his last year had been and he clicked his tongue sympathetically. “You don’t know for sure?” 

“I don’t remember anything beyond about a year ago.” James sat gingerly in the chair, then made a pleased noise and sat heavier against the back rest. “Maybe two years. Think it’s only one though.” 

Tony didn’t really know what to say to that, which was fine because James had already moved on to asking, “Sure is fancy in here. Bout as fancy as flying cars, right?” 

It was almost a memory, almost something James knew he knew about. Why do I remember learning about flying cars?  “You got any of those in here?” 

“I’ve got just about everything except flying cars.” Melancholy James didn’t understand dipped Tony’s expression down at the edges. “We figured out how to send things to space and other planets but not anything other than a hover when it comes to vehicles, and certainly not anything with a person in it. Not for lack of trying though, we’ve been at it since the forties.” 

“What if I told you that in just a few short years, your automobile wouldn’t touch the ground at all?”

“The forties, huh?” James said out loud, and the same migraine that came along whenever he tried to remember crept in along the edges again. “That long?” 

“Remember The Jetsons?” Tony tapped a few buttons on a holographic keyboard and a cartoon filled one of the floating screens. “This show was supposed to be set in 2062. They thought we’d be living in space, flying cars, having robot butlers and hanging out with aliens. We haven’t even been able to confirm aliens yet and I know it’s a good fifty years away and technology moves fast, but come on.” 

He gestured to the screen where the little boy was jetting off to school in a miniature pod. “I think it’s a stretch, don’t you?” 

“I dunno.” James leaned his head back onto the chair and hissed out a relieved breath when the molded fabric cushioned around his shoulders and took the pressure off his left side. “You got a robot butler, don’t you?” 

“Hm. Touche.” Tony drummed his fingers at the arm rest of his own chair as James shifted and tried to get more comfortable. “Left side is awful, huh?” 

A terse nod, so Tony continued, “I’ve got a few small projects to finish up before I’m ready to start working on something for you but it’s going to take most of the night. You’re welcome to stay if you’d like, not everyone gets to see a disaster at work in his natural habitat.” 

“Isn’t the saying a genius at work?” James didn’t know how he knew that, but he did know that the smile lighting up Tony’s eyes was well worth the guess. 

“Just for that, you get a bigger room.” Tony declared. “In fact, you can have Pepper’s room since she never calls me a genius. Congratulations, you’re now the proud owner of a closet big enough to park a car in.” 

James laughed because he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t resist the way Tony was so happy over something so small. He laughed and Tony muttered a shocked, “Wow, save that picture J.” while James chuckled, “I don’t need a bigger room. But I wouldn’t mind sitting here a little longer. Chair sure is comfortable.” 

“It should be, it’s the ones the astronauts use.” Tony moved like he was going to touch James’s leg, caught himself mid motion and pulled away to go back to his computers. “Stay as long as you want. It’s nice to have the company.” 

It was nice to have someone here is what Tony wanted to say. It was nice to have someone sitting close enough to feel the heat of their body, to glance at his peripherals and see a person, not just shadows and what was sure to be nightmares later on. James didn’t say much, but he managed a few agreeable noises when Tony asked rhetorical questions into the quiet lab, gave an appropriate ‘ah’ when Tony paused long enough to show him a few specs on the new repulsor engines he was working on for SHIELD, and by the time Tony had caught up on the busy work he’d missed while in D.C.–

–James was fast asleep in the astronaut chair, peaceful and dreamless for the first time in weeks– months?– maybe a full year. 

Peaceful and dreamless and somehow right at home in a stranger’s Tony’s house. 

“Hey.” A voice broke into his lack of dreams and James’s eyes snapped open wide. “Easy easy.” Tony wasn’t any closer than he’d been earlier, but his hand was hovering awkwardly over James’s knee like he’d gone to touch him again and paused just before landing. “Remember where you are?” 

“Yes.” James lied, but it was a quick lie because he remembered in the very next breath. JARVIS and the robots in the corner and the astronaut chair and the real pretty brunette with the real pretty smile. “Yes, I know where I am.” 

He budged his knee over and up just enough for Tony’s palm to come into contact and surprise widened Tony’s eyes before he squeezed lightly and left his hand there.

“I just didn’t want you to wake up confused.” He explained, feeling breathless for a very stupid reason. It’s just a knee Tony, pull it together. “It’s like three am though, why don’t you head up to your room and get some real shut eye? Morning will come soon enough and we can get to work on your arm.” 

“You aren’t coming to bed?” James asked, and that seemed wrong because he didn’t need to care one bit whether or not Tony slept. But still… “Do you sleep down here?” 

“I don’t really sleep.” James didn’t know if Tony realized how much he touched over his chest, but it was so often that the motion was already familiar– a quick brush of fingers and then a press of his palm and a barely there grimace. What happened to you?  “Any shut eye that happens is usually on that couch right over there.” 

“Okay.” James shouldn’t care whether or not Tony slept. But he had to ask… “See you in the morning?” 

“Yeah, big guy. I’ll be around.” 

Tony’s smile was beautiful and there was a quiet voice in the back of James’s mind that felt like a school teacher or maybe someone from church– had he ever been to church? A quiet voice telling him that thinking other men were beautiful wasn’t quite right, that it wasn’t good to think Tony’s eyes reminded him of honey and sunshine and this late at night it felt like maybe they should be wrapped up together. 

A quiet voice that said he shouldn’t want to see another one of those looks like Tony had given him in the hotel, but James pushed the quiet voice away because another louder voice insisted that he’d had quite enough of other people telling him what to do. 

Follow your orders, soldier. 

That isn’t right to think that way, James. 

No, he’d had enough of people telling him what to do, even if he couldn’t remember exactly what those orders and rules had ever been. 

“Night, Tony.” James smiled and Tony smiled and that was all good things as far as James was concerned. “See you in the morning.” 

“Good night.” 

The lab doors swished close as heavy steps ascended the stairs, and Tony waited only as long as necessary before pulling up the snapshot of James laughing. 

“J.” Tony tapped his pen idly at the desk top. “Who do you think that smile is for?” 

“Sir?” 

“Who do you think that smile is for?” Tony repeated, re-opening the facial recognition program. “James doesn’t know who he is, but someone has to know, right? Someone has to be looking for him. Soldiers don’t go missing without anyone noticing, he’s stateside which means we didn’t lose him as a prisoner of war or missing in action because they’d never let him back across the border without a debriefing. And a debriefing would have told him who the hell he is.” 

“Someone has to know who James is.” he pursed his lips and tried not to sound quite so wishful. “That smile has to be for somebody, right?” 

“Well, it would appear that particular smile is for you, sir.” JARVIS commented, and Tony couldn’t help his grin up at the ceiling. 

“Thanks, J.” 

“Will you be sleeping tonight, sir?” 

“Uh, no.” Tony glanced over at the drawer again, the one with the damnable blood toxicity monitor sitting inside. “No, probably not.” 

“The usual Insomnia Playlist, then?” 

“Thank you.” 

Now I don’t know where I’m going

But I sure know where I’ve been

Hanging on the promises in songs of yesterday

And I’ve made up my mind

I ain’t wasting no more time

“Here I go again, on my own.” Tony sang softly, later after he’d taken off the hoodie and unbuttoned his shirt as if it would ease the pain coursing through his veins and throbbing behind the reactor. “Goin’ down the only road I’ve ever known.” 

“Ready to check the toxicity monitor, sir?” 

“…not tonight, J.”

Just another heart in need of rescue

Waiting on love’s sweet charity

I’m gonna hold on for the rest of my days

“Cause I know what it means.” Tony pulled up the specs on the arm he was going to convert for James and tried to rub the weariness from his eyes. “To walk along the lonely street of dreams…” 

“…here I go again, on my own…” 

Chapter Text

“Where did we land with age groups for James?” Tony propped his chin up in his hands and stared moodily at the bright green smoothie Dum-E had placed on the desk. “My original thought was mid thirties but I bet if he shaved the beard he’d be baby faced.” 

“I have set search parameters to any male between the ages of twenty-five to thirty-five who would have served in the Armed Forces in any capacity within the last ten years.” JARVIS replied. 

“What do the numbers look like?” 

“There are approximately 2 million members of the Armed Forces at any given time, with close to one-point-two million of those members being male, and of those male soldiers–” 

“Okay I get it.” Tony waved his hand wearily. “I get it. There’s a lot. How many pictures did we get through last night before shutting down?” 

“Almost ten thousand.” 

“So I’m about two weeks out from running him against every face out there that could be him? We’re doing enlistment photos, right? The Black Ops teams won’t be anywhere in any roster after they switch squads and um–” he rubbed at his forehead and looked longingly at the espresso machine in the corner. “–anybody that SHIELD grabbed out of there won’t be on any traditional database other than the initial enlistment photos.” 

“Yes sir, I am checking enlistment photos for matches with no less than fifty potential nodal points in case James has undergone any face altering surgeries or injuries.” 

“Okay. Thanks J.” Tony made up his mind about his morning drink and carried the smoothie over to the espresso machine, fired it up and poured two shots of straight coffee into the green, turning it a murky, caffeine juiced brown. “Mmm. Breakfast of champions. J turn on the news?” 

“Perhaps you let the caffeine settle in your system before you watch the news sir, I’m not sure Ms. Potts would appreciate another window broken because a reporter made you angry.”  

“The reporter said I had hair plugs, and that was worth a broken window.” Tony gagged over the first swallow of coffee-green smoothie. “So long as they don’t make assumptions about my real hair, we should be fine.” 

“If you say so, sir.” 

“–Billionaire Tony Stark disrespected the Senate to the point of being cursed at by the decorated Senator Stern, accounts from within the room detail Mr. Stark as being belligerent and almost catty with his replies–” 

Tony inhaled sharply and forced back another swallow so he could keep listening. 

“–Tony Stark has so little respect for America and our history that he is willing to make jokes about slavery and indentured servitude being the same as the Department of Defense asking him to share his technology. We have to ask ourselves, will he apply the same bottom level amount of respect to making sure it really is America’s interests being protected when he suits up?” 

“– All I’m saying is, the guy is clearly over compensating. What, he turned forty and had a mid life crisis that’s being acted out via terrorism? Are we going to forgive this little serial killer gap year when he comes back to his senses and stops interfering with on going military missions because he likes his missiles better?” 

“I think calling me a serial killer is a little harsh.” Tony gulped back the last of the concoction and tossed the cup towards the sink. “Don’t you think, J? I mean, serial killer? Really? Terrorism? Did they use those words to describe Obadiah or the Ten Rings when they held me?” 

“–Lawmakers in Washington have been silent about the footage shown to be one of Hammer Tech’s alleged attempts at recreating the Iron Man armor, an attempt that apparently led to the horrifying death of one of the stunt pilots though Justin Hammer remains adamant the man died of other non related causes–” 

“– I don’t understand how a billionaire ended up just creating an actual weapon of mass destruction in his basement. Why isn’t the government paying better attention to him? When soldiers come home from overseas with symptoms of PTSD half the time they can’t even get a job, but he comes back after a three month stint in the sand and we are supposed to look the other way while he messes with technology so advanced we have no hope of countering it? What happens when Tony Stark finally snaps and decides the United States is the enemy–” 

“Fuck, shut it off.” Tony’s knuckles went white against the steel table. “Shut it off J, you were right, listening to the news is a terrible idea.” 

“A migraine already, sir?” 

“Are we calling panic attacks migraines now?” Tony leaned forward to put his forehead on the cool steel and hissed out a breath as the pressure built behind his temples. “Christ.” 

“Stress increases the rate of toxins in your bloodstream, sir.” 

“Yeah, J. I’m real aware of that, thank you.” He felt around in the drawer for the blood monitor and jammed the needle into his finger probably harder than necessary, needing the jolt of pain to bring his mind back from spiraling. 

They were calling him a damn terrorist? A serial killer? What the fuck, what the fuck, he was trying to save the world goddammit and they were going to call him–

*Beep*. 22%. 

“Twenty-two percent.” Well that didn’t make the edging panic attack or migraine any better and Tony swept the monitor back into the drawer and slammed it shut. “Damn it.” 

“Sir, should I call Ms. Potts? Your vitals are spiking and you are breathing at an alarming speed, perhaps we should–” 

“Don’t call Pep.” Tony shook his head, rubbing his forehead on the front of the desk. “I’m fine, just need a minute. Just need um– okay. Run some more simulations for me for a replacement, lets try hybridizing the elements that had a less than immediately lethal reaction and see if they can counteract each other’s side effects.” 

“The side effect of death, sir?” 

“God, I wish I hadn’t designed you to have quite this much sarcasm.” 

“I was created with an allowance to emulate the behavior of those around me, and since you are the only one consistently around me, perhaps the sarcasm you so blatantly disrespect is a reflection of your own.” 

“You are the most ridiculous AI in the world.” The easy exchange lessened the steel bands at Tony’s heart, gave him the strength to lift his head even if it was to glare balefully at the ceiling. “Thank you.” 

“You are welcome, sir. James is on his way down to the lab as we speak.” 

“Right. Right, James.” Tony glanced down at his shirt and the circle of blue showing beneath the fabric and decided against pulling on his hoodie. “Normal lock down protocol please. And I need more light over the chair in the center.” 

“Yes sir.” 

JARVIS went quiet when the lab doors swished open, and Tony gave himself a half second to appreciate just how good James looked filling out the dark green t-shirt before meeting the soldier’s eyes and offering him a smile. 

“Hey good morning. How’d you sleep?” 

“Better than I slept the last couple hundred nights.” James smiled right back, then glanced down at the glow of the arc reactor beneath Tony’s shirt. “That what you’re always pressing at?” 

“Uh-” Tony stopped halfway to covering the reactor with his hand. “Yes? Didn’t realize I did it enough for people to notice though.” 

“Most people probably don’t.” James’s mouth twisted self consciously. Most people probably didn’t notice every single thing about every single thing, like how Tony’s hair was mushed on one side because he’d been resting leaning into that hand, or the speck of dried blood on his fingertip, or the strain in his voice that sounded like he was ready to give up. 

Yeah, most people probably don’t notice things like that at all. 

But James did. 

“I thought I’d get up close and personal with you today.” Tony wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable under James’s scrutiny– there was no judgment or disgust in the pale eyes, just curiosity and awareness– but he still cleared his throat and tried for levity as he motioned to James’s left arm. “I already have a working prosthesis for you but it will take some measuring and adjustments, I need to know some weights and balance factors to make sure it fits you just as well as your right arm.” 

“You can do all that?” 

“James, I can make this thing so great that your right arm will feel like the bad one.” Tony joked and was rewarded with another one of those sort of astonishing smiles. “I don’t want to brag, but I’m pretty much the best there ever was at exactly this.” 

“Don’t mean to brag, huh?” the crooked smile grew just a little bit more, and Tony bit at the inside of his cheek to temper his own answering grin. “Yeah, alright. Where do we start?” 

“We start by getting mostly naked, I’ll need your shirt off to get the right measurements in.” Tony kicked his feet out and sent his seat rolling towards the center of the room where the medical chair was set up. “I promise this thing is more comfortable than it looks, I’ve posted up on it a few times. I can get you a blanket if you want, it can get cold in the lab and the whole ‘people poking at your injury’ can give a guy the shakes, trust me I know. If you’d like, I can–” 

Tony paused mid ramble when he realized James hadn’t moved from exactly that spot by the door. “James? Alright?” 

“I can’t sit there.” The tone was barely a whisper but James’s mouth opened like he was trying to scream as he backpedaled from the chair, right hand first out stretched like he wanted to ward the chair off, then clutching at his left shoulder as he stumbled away. “I can’t sit there. No no no, can’t do that, don’t make me do that–” 

“Oh shit.” Tony was arguably the least observant person in the world when it came to relationships and social cues, but he could spot a panic attack a mile away and James was headed for a bad one.

“Hey whoops, I’ve got you.” Tony got to James’s side a split second before the soldier hit the wall and slid down to crumple on the floor. “I’ve got you, take it easy. J? Lights?” 

The lights in the lab dimmed appropriately and Tony went to his knees next to James, hands hovering awkwardly over his frame, not sure if touching the soldier was the best course of action or not. “Can I– James, can I touch you? Is that okay?” 

“Don’t touch me.” the words were wretched, desperate and hoarse and terrified and Tony jerked away, fell onto his butt and scrambled back as James tried to curl into a ball and hide. 

“Don’t touch me.” the soldier muttered, and Tony put one hand over his heart, the other over his mouth as he watched James fall apart. 

Don’t touch me. 

****************

****************

James came back to himself minutes– hours?– later and the first thing he saw when he pried his eyes open again was Tony sat several feet away apparently content to work on his tablet right there on the floor, close enough for James to see, far enough away to not set him off again. 

“How–” James’s mouth was dry, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and head pounding. “Tony–” 

“Welcome back.” James was so sure Tony should be afraid of him right now, he was so sure the beautiful brunette should have put more distance between them and maybe even called somebody to– to what? To sedate him? 

“Dum-E has some water for you.” Tony wasn’t afraid or trying to get any more distance, but his smile was cautious as he inclined his head towards the little robot stretching its arm out to hand James a water bottle. “I also have some truly terrible smoothies if you need something chlorophyll filled to get you back on track.” 

“Tony.” James tipped his head back and drained the water bottle, crumpled it in his fist and tried to calm the impulse to jump when the robot beeped and bumped another one at his shoulder. “How um– how long was I out?” 

“Long enough for me to get a few things done, not so long that my tuchus went numb on the floor.” Tony kept working and James appreciated the lack of attention, the moment to get his breathing under control again. “First time in a long time I’ve been on the watching side of that sort of thing. You alright?” 

“I–” 

“I don’t mean alright like, are you feeling better cos I know you aren’t.” Tony finally put the tablet away and for the first time in forever was grateful for his own recently increasing anxiety because pre-Afghanistan him never would have known how to handle this exact moment. Post Afghanistan him was practically a professional at catastrophic meltdowns in the privacy of his lab, so even though James’s panic attack had pushed Tony alarmingly close to one of his own, he still folded his legs, rested hands palm up on his knees and practiced his breathing–

–and smiled just a little bit when James automatically and probably unknowingly copied the posture. 

“The chair’s gone.” he said after another minute of silence, and James’s shoulders slumped forward in unrealized relief. “I should have asked if something like that would make you nervous.” 

“How would you know?” James thunked his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. “I didn’t even know. Can’t expect you to.” 

“Medical trauma.” Tony plinked at the arc reactor casing. “Pepper had to put this one in my chest in that same chair. Makes me nervous looking at it too, but in my mind it’s a necessary evil. Not necessary for you. We’ll figure out something else.” 

Thank you. The words stuck on James’s throat, bitter and acrid. He felt weak, felt pathetic, felt like he needed to break out of the glass walls and shiny tables and bright lights and run, felt like he needed to lurch forward and wrap his arm around Tony and cry out frustration and fear he didn’t even understand. 

Thank you. He felt weak. 

Thank you. Christ, he felt weak. “Um Tony–” 

“Still don’t want to be touched?” Tony tried for casual, hoping James was still too far lost in his own panic attack to see the way Tony’s fingers had lost their relaxed pose and were clenching nervously. Despite what Pepper and the entire world seemed to think, Tony wasn’t touch averse he was touch desperate and seeing someone break down the same way he’d done so many times alone was killing him. 

“God.” James choked out, screwed his eyes tighter shut and admitted to the deepest quietest need in his very soul. “Tony please–” 

“Yeah, I’ve got you.” Tony was at his side in an instant, pushing their foreheads together and breathing out shakily when James gripped into his side, putting a hand on either side of James’s face and scratching lightly through the stubble partly because the texture grounded him, partly because James groaned in relief and leaned further into him. “There we go. Better?” 

“So much better.” 

So much better to be breathing in sync with someone instead of cowering in a corner of the shelter and trying to disappear as the other residents either jeered at his unexplained fear or avoided him all together. So much better to have Tony’s warmth and the oddly comforting blue light over his heart instead of darkness and cold and stars bursting behind his eyes as James dug the heels of his palms into his skull to try and shut it all out. 

So much better to feel Tony’s fingers at his face and in his hair and then hesitantly at his left shoulder and James shifted so Tony was pressing harder against it, holding his breath until Tony didn’t flinch away and he finally felt a little bit seen. 

“I’ve got you.”

Thank you. 

I’m sorry. 

“…thank you.” 

*************

*************

“See look at this, the couch works just as well as the chair.” Tony kept his tone purposefully light as he gathered up a few tools and moved back towards where James was sat on the sofa. “More comfortable too, if we’re being honest. My only requirement for this thing was that I could sleep on it in any position and not wake up with a sore back and honestly, it’s paid for itself in spades by now.” 

It had been two more water bottles and a long time of just sitting next to each other before James had pulled himself together to stand with an embarrassed, “Thanks for sitting with me.” and a half joking answer from Tony, “I’ve sat next to at least ten thousand people in my life and I’m not lying when I say you’re the only one I didn’t want to throw shrimp cocktails at.” 

“Don’t know what shrimp cocktails are.” James had said and Tony shrugged, “Eh, you’re not missing anything.” 

Now it was the couch and half of one the monstrously colored smoothies Tony was always sipping from and James was feeling as close to balanced as he’d been in weeks. He could see the knowing in Tony’s dark eyes, the understanding that shouldn’t be so much comforting as it was heart breaking because he knew it meant Tony had been exactly here over and over and over. 

“Thank you.” he said again, and Tony looked up from organizing tools with a half smile that only reinforced everything James already knew. 

They weren’t so different. 

“You alright with giving me a strip tease?” Tony waggled his eyebrows teasingly. “Lose the shirt, soldier.” 

“Only if you throw a dollar at me.” James retorted in a rare moment of ‘I understood that reference’ and Tony laughed out loud and started patting at his pockets. It was an attempt at normal, and attempt to move past what happened and James appreciated it clear down to his bones. “You know what, you’re rich, make it a twenty. I’ll make it good for you.” 

Tony laughed even harder, eyes lighting in surprise and pleasure at the flirting, and he folded a bill up into a sharp triangle before flicking it at James’s face. “Lose the clothes, hot stuff.” 

The shirt came up and off with one quick jerk and the muscle in Tony’s jaw ticked when he saw the extent of the damage up close and under bright lights. The brief amazing moment in the hotel where James had only worn a towel had shown Tony the scars too, but to be honest he hadn’t really been looking at James’s shoulder at that particular moment. 

Now though, it was all he could see. Mangled and white lines spider-webbing up around and to the side of James’s neck, the bulk of something not natural stretching at the collabone, visibly strained muscles leading to James’s chest, a shadow beneath unnaturally pale skin that spoke of reconstruction and surgery. Age darkened steel grew from James’s left pectoral like a virus, splicing with the skin and reforming his entire left shoulder before ending abruptly in a stump. 

Christ. 

“God, what did they do to you?” Tony blurted, eyes wide with horror and fingers almost trembling as he pushed at the solid plate beneath James’s chest. “How bad was the damage that they had to completely rebuild you?” 

Too late, he realized the question was insensitive and nosy and probably the last thing James ever wanted to talk about. “Shit, sorry. That’s none of my business.” 

The laughter about money and strip teases seemed years away when Tony’s exploring found where the metal in James’s body melded to his sternum, and he swallowed hard, suddenly dry throat clicking with the effort. “Jesus, James. Never mind, let’s just– okay. The uh– the construction is impressive. Heavy, though. If I thought you could handle the surgery I’d try and replace at least the outlying pieces with something lighter. But the good news is-” 

Tony was rambling, pushing words out of his mouth so he wouldn’t gag when his fingers slid from inorganic plates into the almost shocking give of James’s body as he passed from left to right. 

“–the good news is, and I’ll have to take some scans to confirm, but it looks like I can basically just snap another limb on here for you, connect any frequencies to make sure it moves when you want it to. We can even paint it whatever color you want. Right now the piece is red and gold but we can strip it down to silver or give you something that matches the color of your skin or even airbrush some ink onto it so it looks like a full sleeve of tattoos or–” 

“I don’t remember what happened.” James cut in, inhaling slow and exhaling all in a rush. “I don’t know when it was or how they rebuilt me or whether or not I ever had a fake arm at all. Don’t know why they rebuilt me.” 

“Maybe that’s a blessing.” Tony said tightly. “Maybe you don’t need to remember. Where did we land on tattoos? I think it could be neat, we could look up anything you might enjoy and put it on there, I’ve never used JARVIS for that particular job but it could be fun–” 

“Do you remember what happened to you?” 

Tony faltered. “Yeah. Yeah I sure do. In full technicolor horror film vision.” he grabbed a couple electrodes and raised his eyebrows, waiting for a nod of permission from James before he set them on his chest. “I’d give anything to not remember. Fuck learning all those life lessons, I’d rather not have the panic attacks and night mares and inability to listen to the news without falling to pieces.” 

A beat of silence, and he grimaced. “Sorry again. Remember when I said I’m nosy? I also lack any form of subtlety or tact.” 

“It’s fine.” James said softly, just like he’d told Pepper. “Tony it’s– you’re fine.” 

“Thanks.” 

They went quiet as Tony hooked up a few more wires and then JARVIS took over, blue lines scanning James’s upper body first up and down and then side to side, lingering over the mess at his left shoulder. 

Tony watched with hands clasped, chewing at the inside of his cheek when James closed his eyes and tensed up over the beeping on the machines. 

“You know.” Talking wasn’t necessary, it was just a way to hopefully take James’s mind off whatever was making him go so stiff. “Considering all the hardware in you, I’m surprised you don’t have more scars. The ones here at your shoulders are expected, but even they aren’t as bad as I would think. I’ve seen plastic surgery post-op pictures that look worse. You healed way faster from these than most people would.” 

“Huh.” James clenched his hand into the couch when the machine whirred at his left. “Maybe all the scars are on the inside.” 

And maybe some of us are so scarred up inside they spilled to the outside and we’re just all the way ruined, Tony thought, thinking of the patchwork black scars at his arc reactor and the way they matched the way his heart felt most days. 

“What uh–”James motioned to Tony’s reactor. “What happened to you?” 

“My company used to make weapons.” Tony had said the words so many times they didn’t even feel weird anymore. “I was on a product demonstration over seas when our convoy was attacked. I took a load of shrapnel to the chest.” 

“Product demonstration.” James repeated, mulling it over in his mind. “Weapons test, you mean. Detonatin’ bombs out there in the desert.” 

“You remember seeing stuff like that before?” 

“Nah, I just–” there was that little bit of accent that came through when James was stressed, a hard Eastern European edge mixed with the oddest sound of something Brooklyn. “– I just know.” 

“Right. Well, yeah that’s exactly what I was doing.” Tony leaned back to read the data output from JARVIS’s scans. “And not shockingly at all, someone took offense and saw a chance to really mess things up on my side. Bombs. Shrapnel. Now I’ve got an electromagnet in my chest to keep the pieces from my heart.” 

“They can’t just operate?” 

“Not without killing me and if I’m going to die before the age of ninety, I want it to be on my terms.” Tony didn’t quite manage to hide the bitterness in his voice, or the fear that flickered in his eyes, but just like James had appreciated Tony not mentioning the panic attack, Tony appreciated James noticing but ignoring his scared.

“Does it hurt?” James asked, and Tony had never admitted to anyone what he was about to admit– 

“Every fucking time I breathe.” 

“Is living worth all that pain?” 

Tony’s head snapped up, but James wasn’t looking at him, the soldier was staring at his own twisted flesh in the reflection of the screen, the scribble of scars and under-skin alien tech and ugliness. “Is it worth it?” 

“…most days I don’t know yet.” 

“Yeah.” James felt gingerly over where his skin met metal. “Yeah, I know the feeling.” 

***************

***************

The monitor in the drawer read 22%, just like it had before James came downstairs, just like it would when Tony finally gave up working and tried to get some sleep. 

“The stress and emotions of the last several days has most likely escalated the amount of toxins.” JARVIS said into the late night quiet. “The ideal situation would be for you to go lie on a beach somewhere, sir.” 

“Are you telling me I should retire, J?” 

“I’m telling you to trade in the Iron Man suit for a hammock.” 

“I think you’ve been talking to Rhodey too much. Is he still coming by tomorrow to see me?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Good. Nothing like a visit from the world’s cutest platypus to cheer everyone up.” Tony tossed the monitor back in the drawer without checking his blood a second time, and shut everything down except the constantly running facial recognition software. “Night, J.” 

“Good night, sir.” 

… the lab had only been dark for fifteen minutes when Dum-E stirred from his charging station and whirred towards the far corner of the room where Tony tossed his no-longer-needed’s or something that would be trash after the parts were stripped. 

Crammed in there was the medical chair that had frightened the new person in the lab, and that had worried Tony, so Dum-E reached out a claw and hooked it around the leg of the chair, tugging and pulling and straining until it untangled from the rest and rolled free behind him. 

On the other side of the lab was a trash compactor and the robot whirred his way right over, right up to the front and let out a series of loud beeps towards the ceiling. 

JARVIS ran everything in the lab, everything in the house actually, and once the AI tracked the movement of Dum-E and the intended target, the doors to the compactor slid open seamlessly to allow the robot to push the chair inside, then closed again and the rumble of machinery shook the lab floor as the chair was ground to pieces. 

“Good job, Dum-E.” 

The robot only beeped, waved his arm a few times, and went right back to his charging post, knowing deep in his circuitry he’d done the right thing. 

No more worried Tony. No more frightened other person. 

The right thing. 

Chapter Text

“Tones!” Colonel James Rhodes had been issued a passcode to the lab doors the day Tony had them installed, but since JARVIS always knew when he was coming, it had been actual years since Rhodey had bothered to even type the code in. “Tony? What are you doing?” 

“Hey.” Tony was across the lab staring down at the open doors of his compactor and what was apparently an unexpected pile of trash. “It’s the weirdest thing, Rhodey. I’m almost positive I had a chair last night. This morning, no chair.” 

“You’ve got nine different chairs in here, Tony.” the Colonel picked his way through the myriad of tables and aforementioned chairs to get to Tony’s side. “What’s the harm in one going missing? I’ve seen you misplace entire pieces of furniture before, this isn’t anything new.” 

“I’ve told you at least eighteen times I have no idea how your favorite couch fell off the back of the moving truck and ended up in my bedroom.” Tony wrinkled his nose and grinned. “Scouts honor.” 

“Fuck you and that couch.” Rhodey slung an arm around Tony’s shoulders and pulled him in for a side hug. “What are you working on today?” 

“Arm things.” Tony inclined his head towards the displays filled with list after list of schematics, some of James’s implant and reconstructive surgery, the others with data from the arm he had built and proposed changes to make it into a viable limb for the ex soldier. “Suit things. All the new and improved ways I can piss off the Senate to make sure my face remains plastered all over the news and tabloids for the next six–” three. “–months.” 

“Tony.” Rhodey’s disapproval face outmatched even Pepper’s. “Maybe we try not to piss off the Senate, huh? They do sort of run the country, you know.” 

“Speaking of the Senate.” Tony ignored the warning with the same sort of smile he’d ignored all the other ones. “Don’t you have a committee meeting to be at? Not that I’m not happy to see you, but you hate being late anywhere.” 

“I’m not late yet.” The Colonel said calmly, pointedly. “And the meeting I’m supposed to be at is actually a meeting we are supposed to be at and the plane for D.C. leaves in an hour. Put on some non grease smeared clothing and let’s go.” 

“This isn’t grease, it’s chocolate.” Tony pointed to the large splotch on his t-shirt. “There was a hot chocolate related incident the last time I had one of the Maxim girls over and there’s too much nostalgia wrapped up in the shirt to bother washing it.” 

“That’s–” Rhodey made a face. “God, Tony. That’s too much information for at least six different reasons. Go put some non Maxim affected clothing and wash you face.” 

“Probably not bad advice an any account.” Tony agreed, but then- “Rhodey. I’m not going to D.C.” 

“The hell you aren’t.” A pen clattered too loud on the desk when Rhodey smacked it down. “Tony. Do not argue with me on this.” 

“I’m not arguing.” Tony met James’s glare steadily. “I’m telling you I’m not going.”

“That isn’t an option.” 

“Actually.” Tony pointed a wrench at the Colonel, who only batted it away with a huff. “Actually it is. Because I’ve said what I want to say and I’ve heard them say what they want to say and it’s gone round and round and over and over and it comes down to this–” 

He waited until Rhodey was clearly listening and stated firmly, “If the Senate wants my suit they’ll have to bring the National Guard to the my front door and get it from me themselves. End of story.”

“Yeah.” James leaned back against a desk and folded his arms. “Yeah Tony. Well, you know what? You are one pissy comment away from pushing them to do exactly that and you know who they’re gonna send to get it? Me.” 

“That’s ridiculous.” Tony scoffed. “You have no idea how to use my suit, you’d never get it out of the garage much less into the atmosphere.” 

“Tony, you’re not listening.” 

“No, Rhodey, you aren’t listening.” Tony sliced his hand through the air to cut James off. “You aren’t listening and they aren’t listening. I’m not giving up my suit, not to you, not to the Senate, not to the Department of Defense to turn into a carrier for nukes or to sell off to the highest bidder. This is my stuff and you know how I feel about people touching my stuff!” 

“This is not the time for jokes!” Rhodey raised his voice and Tony raised his to match almost shouting, “And I’m not joking! I’m done having this conversation! Fuck all of you for not fucking listening to me!”  

He was angry, suddenly damn near furious in fact, and when James stared at him in shock, Tony immediately backed down, hands up and eyes averted from his oldest friend as the anger bled way to just weariness. 

“I’m not joking.” he repeated, quieter this time. “I’m not messing around. And I’m real busy right now, so why don’t you go to the meeting and tell the Senate I said to go fuck themselves. Call me later with the results.” 

He pushed past the Colonel and dropped into the chair closest to the arm prototype, ignoring Rhodey as he pulled up the most recent specs and used a 3D hologram to mime stripping out the heaviest pieces and anything that wouldn’t be needed once it was a non-combatant prosthesis. 

James stayed quiet as Tony worked, didn’t comment when the hot rod red and flashy gold disappeared in favor of a muted gray and then a neutral skin tone, didn’t even smirk when Tony added in a few temporary tattoos of his favorite band logos. 

James stayed quiet right up until Dum-E rolled up to Tony’s side with the usual 10 am green smoothie, and only when Tony shuddered past a first swallow did the Colonel ask, “What’s going on with you, Tony?

“I’m busy, Rhodey.” Tony inclined his head towards the hologram and the various ACDC pictures. “Working on my arts and crafts, obviously.” 

“No, really.” James pushed off the table and came to sit right by Tony, tilting his head and studying the lines at Tony’s forehead, the way the brunette was clearly trying so hard to not meet his eyes. “What’s going on?” 

“I told you, arts and crafts.” 

“You think I can’t tell the difference between my best friend being an asshole just for shits and giggles, and my best friend being an asshole in an attempt to make sure no one sees what he’s really feeling?” 

“Ah Sour Patch.” Tony kissed his fingers then smeared them over the Colonel’s cheek. “You always could see right through me. Safe travels to DC okay? I’ve got to see a beefcake about an arm.” 

“I’m not laughing.” Rhodey said softly and Tony said just as softly, “Yeah, you don’t do that a whole lot anymore.” 

“Neither do you, bud.” James’s hand was warm, solid at Tony’s shoulder. “At least promise me you aren’t being stupid?”

“I can promise you that I have put lots of thought into what I am doing.” Tony hedged and Rhodey groaned, “That’s what you said the night you set our dorm room on fire! Damn it, Tony!” 

“You love me.” Tony elbowed him lightly and James just threw up his hands and stalked out of the lab. 

“Rhodey!” Tony called up the stairs, laughing when JARVIS showed him the camera shot of Rhodey flipping him off. “You love me! Admit it! You love me!” 

Tony was still shouting and the Colonel was begrudgingly smiling when he met Pepper at the top of the stairs. 

“Ms. Potts, are you biting your nails?” James tugged Pepper’s hand away from her mouth and tsked faux offended at the ragged thumbnail. “And here I thought you people didn’t do that sort of thing.” 

“You people?” Pepper managed only the barest smile. “And what people would that be?” 

“You people who wear power suits and scary ass high heels and can castrate a man with a single expression.” James finished and her smile grew a little more, albeit reluctantly. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m worried about Tony.” she said sotto voce, clasping the Colonel’s hand and pulling him away from the stairs so their conversation wouldn’t carry. “Really worried.” 

“Yeah, but you didn’t even bite your nails when he was gone in Afghanistan.” Rhodey pointed out. “What could be worrying you more than that?” 

“I don’t know.” she confessed. “I can’t put my finger on it but something is going on with him. He’s more erratic than usual, scattered and then hyper focused– he’s not sleeping at all, not even after a caffeine crash which is weird and then those smoothies–” 

“– are like some of that mega detox shit you find in health food stores.” Rhodey finished and Pepper nodded miserably. “I know, Pep. I’m worried about him too.” 

“He’s been watching old footage of Howard.” she said then, and James’s eyebrows about hit his hairline. “Howard in the garage or working on his stuff for the Expo back in the seventies… I’ve seen some of it. Anytime Tony is on screen Howard yells at him, or calls for the maid or Jarvis to come get him out of the way. It’s really sad.”

“Do you think the Stark Expo is bringing up some bad memories for him?” 

“It’s bringing up something.” Pepper decided. “Last week Tony brought home a homeless veteran, did he tell you about that?” 

Rhodey choked through something that sounded like ‘the fuck he did what?!’ and Pepper pointed towards the other side of the house. “Found him in some gross diner in DC and brought him home! Says he wants to do some good in the world and apparently that starts with giving wounded ex soldiers new arms.” 

“He’s giving the guy a new arm.” James repeated, and then louder– “The one he is working on downstairs? That’s a piece of the Iron Man suit! He can’t just re-purpose that sort of technology so some stranger can have all ten fingers! The Senate will literally send the Army to confiscate everything! What is he thinking?!” 

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Pepper’s slim shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “I thought the guy was just around because Tony wanted to mix it up from his usual cover girls–” Rhodey made another one of those choking noises. “– but he says it’s not like that.”

“Okay look.” James pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a breath. “Okay back in college, I distinctly remember pulling Tony’s dumb ass outta what could have been a real bad situation with one of the older guys. He never told me what happened but he did tell me that he’d never mess with a guy again, and that we should chalk it up to college experimentation and never speak of it again.” 

“…okay?”

“So I doubt this is about anything like that.” James decided. “Which almost makes things worse because if it’s not about hooking up or getting sexy with someone, what the hell is it about? Acting crazy, eating weird food, watching videos of his dad and suddenly caring about whether or not random people have both limbs?

He shook his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say Tony is crossing things off a bucket list.” 

“Oh Rhodey, no.” Pepper blanched white. “No, you don’t think–” 

“No.” James said just as quickly. “Because Tony is stubborn and spiteful enough to outlive us both. No I’m not saying it is a bucket list, I’m just saying…” he scratched at his chin as he thought. “Maybe Afghanistan and Obadiah made him realize how short life is? Maybe instead of living for himself and living for the moment Tony’s trying to create something that will have a lasting impact on the world.” 

“Last week he commissioned not one, but two different paintings of Iron Man.” Pepper said flatly. “Replaced the Da Vinci in the foyer and the Botticelli in the formal dining room. Does that sound like someone who is looking to create something to have a lasting impact?” 

“No, but it sounds exactly like Tony.” Rhodey emphasized. “Maybe it’s just a phase. Can’t blame him, right? Life hasn’t exactly been roses for him lately.” 

“It had better be a phase that runs it’s course quickly.” Pepper decided. “I’m assuming you didn’t talk him into going to D.C. with you?” 

“Not even close.” 

“I figured as much.” Pepper clicked her tongue, tapped at her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Will you let me know what happens at the capital, today?” 

“Yes ma’am.” Rhodey saluted her, and Pepper laughed quietly, pushing him away. “Keep an eye on our resident disaster for me.” 

“I always do.” 

*****************

*****************

Shopping was a novel experience for James. 

Not only did he not have a single memory of ever shopping– his spare set of clothing had come from the shelter’s closet when all his cash went to food– but even if James did remember shopping, there was no way regular people bought their clothes like this. 

This morning Pepper had calmly handed him the names and addresses of three different stores, handed him an envelope full of cash, “For food and any trinkets you’d like.” and then assured him the listed stores would put everything on Tony’s account and to not worry about what it cost. 

Then a limousine had pulled round to the front of the Malibu house, a man whose moniker Happy had in no way matched the dour expression on his face opened the back door, and then James was whisking away towards the city and downtown to a store. 

Now he was standing in a room with more mirrors than he’d ever be comfortable seeing, more clothing than he knew existed, all sorts of colors and patterns and material–

“Christ, what happened to denim and a t-shirt?” James muttered. “Khakis and a button up?” He picked up a striped long sleeve in a nearly weightless fabric. “Couldn’t wear this, it’d tear every time I put it–” 

“I’ll find that in your size and add it to the pile.” The store-helper-person– concierge? Was that the word Happy had used when he dropped James off?– plucked the shirt right from James’s fingers and hurried off to get one in his size. Apparently that’s how people like Tony did their shopping, just pointing at various things and all the store helper people concierges took care of sizing and adding it to the bill. 

James had been measured just once the moment he’d stepped inside. Over clothes, with quick perfunctory movements and even though it had still been awkward for the ex soldier, James appreciated not having to get undressed in front of one of those big mirrors, stripped down to his skivvies while strangers took his sizes and got to see the mess beneath his shirt. 

Nah, doing it this way had some benefits. He couldn’t imagine needing four pair of pants and a dozen shirts but every time he picked something up even curiously it was added to the pile at the front register and he was able to move right on. 

About eight shirts previous James had tried to insist, “Oh no, I was just looking at this one, I don’t need it.” and had been waylaid by a too perky smile and a quick assurance of, “We were given strict instructions to provide everything you want, sir.” 

And when James asked, “How come there’s no one else in the store?” the ready answer came by way of another too perky smile and a memorized sounding, “Oh Mr. Stark prefers to do his shopping alone so we are happy to extend the same courtesy to his friends. Nothing could be worse than picking out clothing and intimates while being photographed, right?” 

I could think of a thousand things worse. 

“Sure.” James forced a smile of his own and grabbed a pack of the ultra soft boxer briefs he’d seen earlier, but had put aside in favor of a more practically colored package. “Add these for me?” 

“An excellent choice.” she said smoothly. “Perhaps a package in the shades of red as well?” 

“Um.” James thought back to the elevator at the hotel that first day, the way Tony’s eyes had lit up when he called out for something in blue and dark red. “Yes. And– and blue?” 

“Wonderful.” She plucked another from the display. “I’ll put them up front, you go ahead and continue shopping.” 

“…Sure.” 

Next up was accessories, and even though James didn’t remember having owned a belt in the past now he was going to own four. Pocket squares, a watch, cuff links for dress shirts he hadn’t been measured for yet, a wallet to put the pile of still untouched cash Pepper had handed him this morning. A shaving kit and assorted toiletries, expensive lotions promising benefits for sensitive or scarred skin, a toothbrush at least a hundred times fancier than strictly necessary and a set of hairbrushes and creams James was sure he’d never use. Three pair of sunglasses, something called a messenger bag, and several pairs of shoes ranging from classic useful sneakers clear up to a sturdy pair of colder weather boots. 

“I will never use half this stuff.” he said flatly as six different boxes were carefully packed and addressed to to be delivered to the Malibu house. “Seriously, who needs all this?”  

“Mr. Stark asked that we outfit you with everything necessary for a gentleman of your social and financial standing.” the young man answered smoothly and handed James a receipt of everything purchased, minus the prices of course because James hadn’t seen a price anywhere the entire day. “A man’s greatest weapon is his ability to be prepared for any sort of situation.” 

“I feel like that’s more about knives and guns than bow ties and cuff links.” James insisted, and the concierge didn’t miss a beat as he pulled a velvet lined case from beneath the counter to show James an assortment of pocket knives. 

“We have several beautiful knives to add to your ensemble if you are so inclined. This one here is a William Henry, the gentac ‘Vine’ knife. Hand carved stainless steel, colored sapphires inset here, a button lock set with citrine and of course, the signature Damascus steel in the copper wave.” 

“I–” What the hell kinda self respecting knife came with jewels in it?  “No, thanks.” 

{HERE’S THE KNIFE}

The third and last stop was a suit shop and James honestly just stood there while a flurry of attendants took his measurements, held up color swatches to his skin, and then chattered in Italian about his size and how to give him as much room as possible on the left side without looking baggy, but still avoiding the feeling of constriction. 

James didn’t know how or why he understood Italian, but he was too focused on his breathing to worry about it, focusing on clenching and unclenching his fingers and trying to stay calm because shopping in a big empty store had been trying enough, and walking through all the unnecessary and somewhat foreign accessories had been intimidating, but having six different people in his space, at his side and back, darting around with measuring tapes and holding him still gently but still firmly– 

– it felt like claustrophobia as yet another sample coat was draped at his left side. Felt like claustrophobia and being trapped with all the mirrors and the hushed voices and people staring and James closed his eyes and tried not to flinch–

“All done!” One of them announced and James turned on his heel and ran for his life, ran for the door, ran for sunshine and non perfumed air and a chance to breathe. 

“You get used to it.” Happy was waiting outside and James realized in a split second of gratefulness that the store attendants must have called and let him know the appointment was over. 

“What–” his mouth was dry again, dry like it had been all damn day and he grabbed the water bottle Happy tossed him, ripped the cap off and chugged half of it in one go. “What do I get used to? How does anyone get used to that?” 

“You get used to it.” Happy said again, knowingly but kindly as he opened the back door and motioned James in. “You know back when I met Tony, he was still wearing Colonel Rhodes’s ratty ass hoodie places but one day Jarvis took him into a store just like that one and Tony came out a whole different man. Dragged me in a few weeks later, told me if he had to wear a stupid suit than I had to wear a stupider suit and here we are.” 

Happy straightened the jacket of his clearly expensive ensemble and grinned. “And I look damn good, if I say so myself. You’ll get used to the fuss they make in there, and eventually you won’t be scared to eat in clothes that cost more than most people’s rent.” 

“I don’t uh– don’t have a reference for that. For rent. Sorry.” 

“Right. Course you don’t. Tony told me you’re missing a few pages up here.” Happy tapped at his temple and pulled the limo out from the curb. “No offense, I mean. But you don’t gotta apologize for what you’re missing, you know?” 

“…thanks.” 

“You look like you need a cheeseburger.” Happy decided. “You want a cheeseburger? Big guy like you probably eats a couple doubles and then some, right?” 

“I guess?” 

“There’s no ‘I guess’ about it. You need a cheeseburger.” The limo swung East towards the house and James jumped when a phone ran in the speakers around the sides. “Yeah hey, this is Happy. I need me and Tony’s usual order but go ahead and double it.” 

“Of course, Mr. Hogan.” answered the voice on the other end and James smiled a little. Of course Tony had a usual order when it came to food. He had a whole store that apparently jumped at his demand to get James clothes, of course he had a standing order with a food place. 

“You want a milk shake?” Happy called back, and James shrugged. “Yep, he wants a milkshake. Give us three milkshakes, and throw in an extra thing of fries.” 

“Why cheeseburgers?” James wanted to know after the call ended. “Tony’s favorite food?” 

“I don’t know if it’s his favorite.” Happy glanced at James in the rear view mirror. “I do know that every time Tony has a shitty day he asks me to get him cheeseburgers. First thing he wants after a hangover, after a contract goes bad, after a project blows up in his face. When he got home from Afghanistan–” 

–here the driver got quiet, almost choked up and James narrowed his eyes curiously. 

“When Tony got home from Afghanistan, all he wanted was a cheeseburger, so that’s what I went and got him. Three months away, the guy deserves a damn burger right? He’s been eating them a lot lately so I’ve started picking them up on my way back and forth to errands.” 

“Tony was in Afghanistan for three months?” James asked blankly. “He didn’t tell me that.” 

“The arc reactor isn’t exactly a souvenir from a quick weekend trip.” Happy retorted, but his forehead was creased with misery now, eyes dim in remembered sadness. “Worst three months of my life wondering if he was gonna make it back home. So yeah, now when he wants cheeseburgers, he gets them. Doesn’t want cheeseburgers but I think he’s having a bad day? I get them for him. And you look like you need one, so congratulations, you’re officially part of our standing order right next to Pep’s weird vegetarian crap and Colonel Rhodes’s chicken sandwich.” 

“Okay.” James sat back in the seat and closed his eyes again. “Yeah okay, I could go for a cheeseburger.” 

***************

***************

The house was quiet by the time Happy dropped James off at the front door. There were already dozens of boxes stacked in the foyer from the day of shopping but James stepped right over those and headed with a bag of cheeseburgers down the stairs to the lab. 

There was a soft click, three seconds of silence and then JARVIS spoke from the ceiling. “Apologies, sir. But the doors to the lab are sealed right now.” 

“Oh.” James paused mid step, thrown by the unexpected information. “Okay, well Happy brought him some burgers so–” 

A click, three seconds of silence. “I’ll relay the information.” 

“Um. Sure.”  And then, “What is the click for?”

“I thought perhaps a warning before I’m about to speak so I don’t startle you.” The AI replied. “Most people jump and scream the first time I talk to them and it can be wildly funny but in your case I’d rather not cause the panic.”

Oh.

Thank fucking god.

It took no less than fourteen trips to and from his room to get all the boxes moved from the foyer. The entire operation would have been so much easier with two hands and James smiled to himself when he realized having two hands would be a reality soon enough. 

It felt good in a materialistic sort of way to have something to put in the empty shelves in his room, to have shirts to hang up in the massive closet and socks and underwear to tuck into the drawers. James didn’t know if he’d ever put much thought into how he dressed or looked but it felt right when he tried on a sharply tailored pair of pants and crisp button up. It felt more like him, which was a feeling he hadn’t had even once since waking up beneath that bridge a year ago. 

Maybe who he used to be liked dressing nice, maybe they liked the way they looked in clean cut clothes and neat hair and–

–James picked up a brush from the grooming kit, then changed his mind and picked up the sandalwood smelling shampoo and conditioner set instead. 

If he had the clothes, maybe it was about time he did something with his hair and beard and then he’d get that feeling of being himself again. 

Couldn’t hurt, right? 

Putting every thing away and taking a long shower to clean up, trimming his hair at the ends and carefully carefully running the electric razor over his face to shorten up his stubble took hours and the sun had gone down by the time he was done. 

James stepped from the bathroom into a dark bedroom, the evening air blowing cool through the open window and the moon casting shadows everywhere and he paused, hesitated, because the room felt empty now. Empty after a day full of activity and empty because the boxes were open and put back outside in the hall to be shoved in the trash and his bed was still made stiff and starch like he made it every morning, the lack of personal effects around the room still lacking…

…without the daylight, without the lamp on the room felt empty and the room felt lonely and knowing the lab was shut off and he couldn’t see Tony somehow made it all worse. 

Lonely, even though he was in a house with two other full time residents. Lonely, even though James had piles of stuff now. 

Lonely–

“Hey!” just like that the bedroom was flooded with light when Tony opened the door and poked his head around, sending James a smile that felt like actual sunshine on his skin. “Oh, sorry about the not knocking thing. Peppers the only one who stays here and she gave up on my knocking a long time ago. How are you?”

Suddenly not lonely. 

It felt foolish to want to smile so big back at Tony, felt foolish to miss someone he’d only known a few days, so James tried to temper his grin, “Hey Tony. Didn’t think I’d see you tonight, JARVIS said the lab was locked down.”

“It was and now it isn’t.” Tony answered non commitedly. “I found the bag of cheeseburgers at the stairs, I was gonna reheat them and watch a movie. You want to join?”

“What movie?” James asked as if it mattered, as if he could remember ever seeing a movie or not.

“Have you even seen Howard the Duck?” Tony looked almost gleefully evil and James’s eyes widened.

“….no?”

“Well then you’re in for a treat.” He jerked his head so James would follow him out of the room and back towards the lab. “It’s going to be a terrible treat, the movie is absolutely awful but it’s worth a chuckle or two. You game?”

For just about anything that keeps you smiling like that. “Sure. Sounds fine.”

“How was shopping?” Tony asked while they waited for the burgers to heat up in the microwave. “Get everything you need?”

“And about a thousand things I don’t.” James took the hot plate without thinking, and when Tony looked at him strangely, he shrugged, “Guess it isn’t as hot as I thought.”

“I guess not.” Tony said slowly, though he knew damn well the plate was scalding. “Let’s make sure you don’t blister, give that back and I’ll put it on a towel.”

James obediently banded the plate back but there was so sign of blister or even red on his palms and Tony cocked an interested eyebrow. “Huh. Alright maybe my hands are a little less calloused and rugged than I like to admit. Anyway. Buy anything fun?”

“Nah, Just normal stuff I guess.” James reached up and touched the side of his face self consciously. “Shaved a bit though.”

“Yeah you look great.” Tony was already tearing into a hamburger, waving his hand so James would head towards the living room and the big TV. “Little less terrifying hobo and more distinguished but still terrifying assassin.”

“I look like an assassin?” That word reared up like a red flag in James’s mind. “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t mean anything but it.” Regret crossed Tony’s face, there and gone in a blink. “Remember me not being tactful? I’m trying to say you’re tall dark and murdery but in a… GQ sort of way.”

James just blinked at him and Tony raised his hands apologetically. “Never mind. I’m sorta spinning tonight, can’t get my head to settle. Ignore it. Sit down and I’ll find the movie.”

Tony cursed mentally as he sorted through the stack of DVDs to find Howard the Duck. Rhodey’s visit this morning has rattled him, the sheer displeasure from his best friend and then the quick turn to obviously worried and maybe even sad. He didn’t like lying to Rhodey and he knew the Colonel knew he was lying but not to this extent. Not about palladium and twenty-two percent and just over ten weeks barring anything catastrophic happening and rushing it all along.  

Rhodey didn’t know Tony was lying about that. 

His hands were shaking by the time he found the movie, and Tony shoved it into the player quickly, carelessly, wiping his palms on his pants and turning with a broadly fake smile for James.

“So really? Nothing fun?” He’d spent all day in the lab running simulations for the reactor, simulations for the prosthesis, facial recognition software trying to find James, organic cures for heavy metal poisoning, articles about the afterlife and whether he was doomed to be a slug in the next one because he’d been terrible in this one and Tony’s mind was running on empty, his emotions ran ragged and raw and it was all he could do to sit next to James on the couch and not turn and fall into the soldiers chest. 

He was exhausted and Rhodey was worried about him and Pepper was too and Tony was exhausted, he just needed to rest.

When can I finally fucking rest?

“I didn’t even give you a spending limit and you’re telling me you didn’t find anything that wasn’t basic wardrobe stuff to buy?” He asked again, surprising himself with just how much he really did want to hear about James’s day. “Not one thing?”

“They tried to get me a pocket knife.” James said after a minute of gauging the distance between them and wondering just how out of character for him— the real him, the him he felt a little bit more like after changing clothes— to budge up close to someone pretty and try to charm them. “Dunno know why I want a pocket knife but it felt normal, I guess.”

“Did you get one?” The movie started playing, the plate of cheeseburgers got wedged between them and Tony tore into a second one. “You could, you know. This isn’t exactly a weapons free household.”

He chuckled but James didn’t get the joke. “The knife was… it was real fancy. Damascus steel, vines in it.” He shrugged. “Not my style.”

“Oh, a William Henry.” Tony said around a mouthful of fries. “Yeah they’re pretty, you can have one if you like. Get a new one or pick one from my room, I think I’ve got six. People give them as gifts cos you know—“ a slurp of water. “— that’s what every billionaire wants. A useless trinket they might be able to open a  letter with. You’re welcome to any of mine or if you find a real knife you want, get that one. Doesn’t matter.”

“Do you always spend money like this?” James arched a brow when a life sized duck filled the screen next to a teenage girl. “What the hell—?”

“I told you it was terrible.” Tony laughed at him. “And I guess I do spend money like this. I’ve got more than I could use in a hundred years so I might as well spend some on you, right? You only live once!” 

Somehow that sounded wrong to James’s ears– you only live once. He thought maybe he’d lived and died a hundred times on account of feeling so damn old some days but that wasn’t important, what was important was the way Tony was smiling, so James smiled right back and repeated, “Sure. Only live once.” 

The movie played for a few minutes while they ate, and Tony finished off another handful of fries before he asked casually, “You ever heard of a bucket list, James?”

“A bucket list.” James mulled the words over a few times. “Don’t think so.”

“It’s ah—“ Tony cleared his throat. “It’s a list of things you want to do before you kick the bucket. Before you die.”

“Huh.” James looked around  the living room, at the giant television and expensive paintings, comfortable couches and bar off to the side, all the pictures of Tony winning awards and shaking hands with what must be famous people. “Sure seems like you have most everything a fella could want, you must not have a lot of your bucket list.”

“You’d think so.” Tony couldn’t keep his gaze from dropping to James’s mouth and he swallowed hard before looking away. “You’d sure as hell think so.”

The movie kept playing and they sat in mostly companionable silence, sharing the rest of the food and laughing at a few parts, cringing at others. James had definitely never seen the movie but Tony had seen it enough to silently mouth the words along with the actors and James found that both hilarious and oddly adorable. 

By the time the start menu was playing on repeat, both Tony and James were fast asleep in the couch, the ex soldier worn out from a day of new experiences, the genius inventor worn out from a day of worrying. 

Pepper tiptoed in sometime around one am and dragged a blanket up over Tony, and another up over James, took the empty cheeseburger plate from the table and set it in the sink and then went on to her room.

She’d never say a single word about Tony and James falling asleep budged up close together, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, knee to knee, drawn together even in sleep.

Not a single word. 

Chapter Text

“Good morning, Tony.” Pepper dropped a kiss on Tony’s cheek and a stack of papers on his desk then turned to smile at James. “Good morning, James. You two are up bright and early.” 

“Never really went to bed.” Tony had a 3D rendered image of James’s left shoulder on his desk and was painstakingly fitting the end pieces with new wiring and connectors. He knew from plenty of unfortunate fire-extinguisher experience that Dum-E would come running if there was so much as a spark as wires and parts went together, so he wanted to practice several times and run through any potential issues before trying it on James. “Been up all night working on this.” 

“You’ve both been up all night?” Pepper asked casually, just as casually as she possibly could while also being simultaneously nosy. “Usually JARVIS warns me if Tony doesn’t go to bed.” 

“I told him to take the night off.” Tony felt around behind him for another wire and Pepper’s eyebrows shot up when James handed the right one over without even hesitating. 

Spending enough time together to be that in sync? My oh my. 

“I don’t think JARVIS knows the meaning of the words ‘night off’.” she commented instead of everything else she’d wanted to comment since finding them asleep together a few nights previous. “What were you two up to that the almighty eye in the sky didn’t need to witness?” 

“You flatter me, Ms. Potts.” JARVIS came online after a quiet click and brief hesitation. “But I can assure after numerous near-catastrophes due to sleep deprivation, I am always watching the lab even if I am quiet.”

“Of course you are.” Pepper was watching both James and Tony closely to see if either reacted to the thinly veiled insinuation that they’d been up to no good, but neither brunette even blinked. “Anyway, Tony we need to talk about exactly what happened with the Boy Scouts the other day.” 

“C’mon Pep, you say it like that and it sounds terrible.” Tony snapped his fingers a few times, then muttered a thank you when James handed him a small tool. “Don’t say it like that. James, how do you feel about purple wire? I’m thinking purple wires.” 

“What happened with the Boy Scouts?” James wanted to know, and then to Tony, “I like red.” 

“Well you’re getting purple.” Tony twisted a few pieces and attached them carefully. “Deal with it.” 

“Sure, Tony.” James’s smile was damn near soft, and Pepper had a hard time looking away from it. “Ms. Potts, what happened with the Boy Scouts?” 

“What happened with the Boy Scouts?” she repeated, finally tearing away from the way those two looked at each other and idly wondering if either had any clue. “What happened is that Tony donated our entire collection of modern art to them to auction off as a fundraiser.” 

“Pretty sure it’s my collection, Pep.” Tony put on a pair of high-magnifying glasses so he could see better. “Which means I get to do whatever I want with it, right?” 

“I dedicated half my soul and at least a dozen gray hairs towards acquiring that collection.” Pepper put a hand to her perfectly styled, perfectly colored hair. “I think I should have at least a brief say in what happens to it.” 

“Your ‘brief say’ can be congratulating me on a several million dollar tax write off.” Tony blinked owlishly large eyes up at her. “You should be proud of me Pep. Donating junk and getting tax write offs is good behavior!” 

“Junk.” Pepper put a hand to her forehead. “Junk?! Tony–!” 

“Feel like I don’t really understand modern art.” James offered, thinking back to the displays that went up in downtown D.C. on the first Friday’s of the summer months. “Seem’s like a bunch of colors thrown together that don’t make any sense except to the artist and the people with a bunch of money to pay for it.” 

“That’s exactly what it is.” Tony agreed at the same time Pepper loudly disagreed, “No, that’s not it at all! James, our collection–” 

“–my collection–” 

“–was so much more than that, it represents ten years of hard work on my part!” Pepper narrowed green eyes at Tony when he only hunched further over his project. “Tony, you’re making that ‘I’m bored’ face, don’t do that when I’m talking to you.” 

“Then don’t be boring when you’re talking to me.” Tony sassed, and James coughed to cover a snort of laughter. 

He felt bad that Pepper was so frustrated, but the last few days had been so fun with Tony, James had a hard time finding fault with anything the genius did, even if it was purposefully frazzling Ms. Potts. 

Ever since their Howard the Duck movie night, Tony had been busy and distracted during the day –arguing on the phone with whatever a Honeybear was, answering and then disconnecting video calls with what sounded like reporters, working in the lab behind darkened windows and distinctly explosive noises. James ended up spending the hours wandering through the house or the surrounding grounds, even calling Happy to just drive him around the city so he could see it all from behind the anxiety reducing tinted windows. The days were long, but the nights made up for it when Tony appeared from his lab usually exhausted and messy haired but always with a ready smile for the soldier. 

It was an odd sort of normal, to be dragged into the living room for hour after hour of arguably terrible movies, delivered pizza and Happy-delivered cheeseburgers, and usually falling asleep before the movie was over. 

It was an odd sort of normal but it was a normal that meant no more endless stretches of time James couldn’t quite keep track of, no more meals in the soup kitchen or nights outside in the cold when the paranoia got bad and James couldn’t sleep at the shelter. Tony watched him, but it wasn’t the stares of morbid curiosity from pedestrians on the street, they spent time in the lab poking at his arm but never anything that made James choke up with fear like that chair had done the first time around, nothing that made him feel like a project and an experiment and a weapon like– like something else in his murky memories did. 

No, normal with Tony made James’s heart beat a little faster and maybe even made his breath catch when Tony smiled the way he was smiling up at Pepper right now– teasing and knowing and daring her to do something about it. 

James was never brave enough to do anything about it, nor was he confident enough to think he was reading that smile exactly right, so he never bothered taking the chance….

… Pepper had no such qualms. 

“I am not finished being upset about the art collection.” the redhead warned. “But I’ve got eight thousand and eleven other things to talk to you about so we’ll put a pin in it for now. I’m assuming since you aren’t making any effort to attend the Senate meetings, you also aren’t feeling up to making your speech at the Expo tomorrow night?” 

“I don’t care half a flying fuck about the Senate meetings–

“Tony!” 

“–but the Expo is the most important thing in my life. All my energy is there. Legacy and history and uh– ah shit, James, I need you.” Tony frayed a wire beyond repair and held out his hand for another one the soldier promptly handed him. “Thank you. As I was saying, Pep. The Expo is legacy, a chance to continue my Dad’s work and leave something for everyone to remember me by just in case I end up doing something drastic and amazing and die in a blaze of glory.” 

“Do not joke about you dying.” Pepper’s voice shook then, and James frowned when Tony closed his eyes and muttered a quiet sorry. “That will never be funny, Tony Stark and you know it.” 

“Yeah Pep. I– I know it.” 

“And while we’re on the topic?” she flicked at his ear and Tony jumped, scowled at her. “I’ve seen the plans for the new tower in New York. No one will ever have trouble remembering you, Tony. You’re planning to literally add your name in neon lights to the New York City skyline.” 

“It will be the most recognizable building outside the Empire and the Statue of Liberty!” Tony said cheerfully, and Pepper only rolled her eyes. 

“Seriously though Tony, about the changes in your stock–” 

“Nope, I’m not talking about it.” Tony pushed away from the desk and stretched to pop his back. “JARVIS, give me that initial prototype from the 3D printer and let’s get it online and connected to the mold print of James’s shoulder, I’d like to see the pieces together.” 

“No, JARVIS, please wait to bring out any prototypes until I’m finished talking!” Pepper spoke over Tony. “Stark Industries is in total disarray. You’ve signed off on grants for everyone from the wind farm people to whatever the hell a plastic plantation is and despite the board’s warning, you keep saying yes! But then they say no and now we have a list of people waiting for money that may or may not be coming! What am I supposed to do about that, Tony?” 

“You’re boring me again.” Tony pursed his lips and clenched his jaw. He wasn’t bored he was stressed and he needed Pepper to see that. He didn’t care about talking through work things in front of James, he cared that his limited time with James was being interrupted for work things and he needed Pepper to see that. He was handing out money because he needed someone to remember him when he was gone in less than three months and he needed Pepper to see that, damn it. 

“You’re boring me again.” he repeated, and held up a hand when Pepper tried to interrupt. “Nope. I don’t care, Pep. I don’t care about any of this. Give everybody the money, give nobody the money. I don’t care. You do it.” 

“I’m trying to do it!” Pepper’s legendary self control snapped just a little bit, bent and broke and she smacked a hand down on the table and raised her voice to argue for what might have been the first time ever. “I’m trying to do it, Tony! Trying to get you focused enough for the most basic tasks to run this company and you aren’t giving me anything!” 

“….I’m giving you everything.” Tony said then, soft and weary, darting a quick glance towards James and feeling bolstered when he saw the soldier looking right back. “Pep, I’m giving you everything. I’ve been trying to find the perfect time to tell you and you know, right now is as good as any. You can have it. All of it.” 

“All of what, Tony?” Pepper looked just as exhausted as Tony felt, exhausted and maybe even near frustrated tears. “You don’t make any sense any more!” 

“The company.” He answered simply, and Pepper blinked a few times before her mouth fell open. 

“What!?” 

“It’s yours.” Tony rustled around in a desk drawer until he found a business card, inked through the Tony Stark, CEO line and wrote in ‘Virginia Potts’. “There, see? It’s official. You do it. Do all of it. You’re better than me, so you do it.” 

“No.” Pepper sounded thunderstruck. “No, Tony. First of all, that is not how you sign a company over. Second of all, I am no where near qualified–” 

“Sure you are.” Tony cut in. “You ran the company for three months in crisis mode while I was gone. You’ve been running it for the seven months since I’ve been home because I can’t focus longer than a few minutes on that sort of stuff. That’s almost a year at this point, you’ve been running Stark Industries for almost a year and still getting paid a secretary’s salary and that’s not right.”

He spread his hands in a ‘here you go’ gesture. “Now it’s yours. Take it. You deserve it. Congratulations.” 

“You’ve been drinking.” Pepper stated. “James, has he been drinking?” 

“Just green stuff.” James replied, and Tony corrected, “Chlorophyll. Lots of it. I’m basically one with Mother Nature now.” 

“Chlorophyll spiked with something?” 

“Chia seeds.” Tony tried to hand her the altered business card again. “I need a yes or no from you, Pep. Are you going to take over running this thing or do I have to call the temp agency and find someone else?” 

“Well you–you certainly won’t be finding somebody at the temp agency.” Pepper took the card with trembling fingers. “But Tony, I can’t– you shouldn’t–” 

“I know you think I’m rushing into this but I’m not.” Tony took both of Pepper’s hands and squeezed lightly. “I’ve put a lot of thought into it and have been considering it since before Afghanistan if I’m being honest. Before all that happened I was already thinking about this, but after everything, I’ve thought about it every day. Every damn day.”

“Tony.” 

“It’s you, Pep.” he murmured, and James looked away from the overwhelming intimacy of the moment. “It’s always been you. You take care of me and take care of all of this, everything I never cared that much about and all the things that are the only things I care about it.” 

He pressed at her palms meaningfully before letting go. “It’s always been you, so step up and take the seat at the head of the table. You deserve it.” 

“I um–” Pepper cleared her throat and tried for a watery smile. “I suppose it would be nice not to deal with another boss. The current one buys me such nice things for my birthday.” 

“Oh yeah?” Tony raised his eyebrows. “What did I buy you this year?” 

“A very beautiful tennis bracelet and two new pair of Jimmy Choo’s.” 

“Wow.” Tony’s eyes widened in faux shock. “I am generous.” 

“Very much so.” Pepper hesitated, turned the card over in her hands a few times. “I should… call someone to draw up the necessary paperwork?” 

“Whenever you’re ready.” Tony stepped away again and winked. “You’re the boss.” 

“I’m the boss.” she repeated, still shell shocked. “And I need a drink. Right now.” 

“I have chlorophyll.” Tony answered promptly and Pepper pushed at him gently. “No? You don’t want any?”

“Not even a little bit.” Pepper glanced over at James, then leaned in and kissed Tony on the cheek. “I love you very much, do you know?” 

“And I’d be lost with you.” Tony kissed her right back. “Are you going to complain about anything else?” 

“No.” Pepper flushed in gratitude. “Did you need anything else from me, Mr. Stark?” 

“That will be all, Ms. Potts.” 

The lab doors closed silently behind Pepper and Tony flopped down at the table again, slumping in the chair and running his fingers through his hair. “Okay, where were we?” 

“You really just handed over everything to her?” James asked, and Tony nodded. “Why?” 

“Because the only thing that will change for me is less board meetings.” Tony flipped his goggles down again and went back to work. “Pepper’s done everything for going on ten years now, no reason why she shouldn’t have what she’s worked so hard to take care of.” 

“You don’t care?” 

“I have everything I could ever want in life.” Tony lied explained, and ignored the ache in his heart, the one that felt like cold and loneliness buried far deeper than the palladium poisoning. “And it’s still my name on the company. Still my legacy. Just with someone better than me at the helm.” 

“Huh.” James nodded like any of those reasons made valid excuses to sign over what he imagined was a wildly successful tech con–con– what was the word he’d heard on a news segment the other day? Conglomerate?– to an Executive Assistant, even one as wonderfully put together as Ms. Potts. “So you have a speech at the Expo tomorrow?” 

“Don’t worry.” Tony got back up to grab the lightweight arm prototype from one of the cabinets so he could connect it to the model of James’s shoulder and see how it all went together. “I’ll be there and back again before we miss out on movie time. Just have to wear the monkey suit and perform for the masses. No big deal.” 

“Monkey suit?” 

“You know, the uh–” Tony paused, cocked his head as he realized he’d never actually told James about the Iron Man suit. They’d talked about the arc reactor and he didn’t hide the blue glow beneath heavy shirts anymore but he still hadn’t come right out and said ‘Also, I’m Iron Man.’ 

Part of him had assumed James would put two and two together and maybe was just being polite and discreet about bringing it up. 

The other part of him hoped he never had a reason to tell James because he’d like those baby blues to keep looking at him as Tony and not as Tony Stark Iron Man, or Tony Stark billionaire or Tony Stark any list of any other adjectives people had called him over the years. 

For all the reasons Tony had stuffed deep in the closet at just seventeen, and for all the reasons that had recently began weighing on his heart and soul, when James looked at him and smiled Tony would very much like to just be Tony. 

“…the monkey suit.” he finally finished. “Like a tuxedo, right? Get dressed up and put on a show for the folks?” 

“You’re part of the show?” James asked in confusion. “I thought you ran it.” 

Tony chuckled at him. “No, not part of the show. I’m the reason for the show which means I have to stand up there and say a few words every few days. It’s not a big deal. I’ll be back in time to watch The Princess Bride with you and explain exactly why every line of that movie is undeniably hilarious.” 

“So if I wear that monkey suit you had bought for me, can I go?” James questioned, eyes cautious and tone hesitant. “Or is that not okay?” 

“You want to go?” Tony snapped a piece clear off the prototype and James looked down in alarm. “No, don’t worry about that, that’s why we have practice pieces. You want to go to the Expo? Are you sure?” 

“Well–” 

“Because you can go.” He was quick to assure James. “But there is thousands of people around, lots of noise, lots of lights and it’s science-y stuff so explosions happen or at least various flash bangs. I don’t want you to get there and then get triggered or panic or that. I mean, it’s a lot for me half the time, I do my few minutes on stage and usually need a few minutes in the bathroom afterwards to calm down and I’d hate to see you– I mean–” 

Tony was rambling, tripping over his words as he tried to find the right thing to say to tell James it was okay not to go if he didn’t want to, that it could be frightening because sometimes it was frightening for Tony, that he understood the potential triggers and wasn’t going to judge for James reacting in a panic. 

“–I just don’t want you to hate it!” he blurted. “This is a big deal for me, for my family history and I know that doesn’t mean anything to you but I’d hate for you to hate it, that would make me feel bad. Not that it would be your fault or anything but–” 

“Tony.” James rapped his knuckles on the table, effectively stopping the ramble mid sentence. “Tony, I know it will probably be noisy and maybe a little stressful but I want to go.” 

And then with a deep breath and a little bit of the lazier tilt his words got whenever he tried to be sweet with Tony– why did that happen? Why did he start talking like he was from New York when he tried to flirt and why did he think in Russian when he was stressed?– James wet his lips and clarified, “I wanna go with you, Tony. S’that okay?” 

“You–” Tony blinked. “You want to go with me. With me? Like with me?” 

“Yeah.” James was suddenly practically parched and he wet his lips again. “Could be fun. Maybe we could–” see a flying car. Eat popcorn. Dance. Do I dance? “– maybe we could walk around it together after your speech? Pretty sure I like carnivals and that sorta thing.” 

“I’d love that.” Tony tried and failed to squash the sudden flare of hope in his chest and the surge of interest somewhere further south. Down boy, it’s only a walk through a very crowded place with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen. “I’ll make my speech short and semi sweet and we can spend the rest of the evening together. Yes. Definitely. Sounds great, sounds like fun, right?” 

“Oh sure thing.” James’s pale eyes lit with the same sort of light Tony was sure was reflected in his own and good Christ did he hope he wasn’t reading it wrong. “Sounds real fun.” 

*****************

*****************

“Tony! The notary is here!” Pepper wrinkled her nose when she walked into what had once been the formal dining room of the Malibu house and now was an in-home gym complete with practice sized boxing ring and the stink of sweat. “Tony? Quit letting Happy kick your ass and come sign, please!” 

“I resent that.” Tony stepped back from one of Happy’s jabs and wiped at his face. “I was holding my own today, wasn’t I James?” 

“Sure, Tony.” James said immediately, teasingly, from his seat down below and Happy snorted, “Of course James agrees with you. I’d agree with the rich crazy guy too if he smiled at me like that.” 

“Calm down, Hap. I smile at you like that too.” Tony grinned just to prove his point, but the tips of his ears turned red when he heard James laughing quietly behind him. “Pepper what do you–” 

He stopped, raised his eyebrows when he saw his favorite redhead accompanied by another redhead that was somehow just as stunning as Pepper in all sorts of different ways. “Uh. Hey.” 

“Don’t.” Pepper warned, and the other woman smiled only barely before motioning to her tablet and telling Tony, “I need you to sign a few things, check a few boxes. Nothing fancy. Should be the only time you’re asked to sign over your company, right? Hopefully?” 

“What’s your name?” Tony tore the cap off one of the shakes and took a long drink, neither missing nor commenting on the way the newcomer and James seemed to zero in on each other. “Ma’am? Your name?” 

“Rushman.” Ms. Rushman watched James closely for another minute before shifting her attention back to Tony with another barely there smile that was little more than a twist of her full lips. “Natalie Rushman.” 

“Natalie Rushman.” Tony repeated. “You know how to box?” 

“Tony, no.” Pepper cut in, at the same time Natalie’s smile grew a tiny bit and she countered, “Oh, it’s fine. I don’t mind trying something new.” 

James’s lip curled in maybe suspicion, maybe irritation when Natalie got up into the ring, bent over at the waist so she was staring up at Tony through thick lashes as she ducked under the ropes. 

Nope. Don’t trust her. 

“Happy.” Tony looked Natalie over once, twice, then told Happy, “Give her a lesson while I talk to Pepper.” 

“Sure thing boss.” Happy turned his nicest, most unintentionally condescending smile towards Ms. Rushman. “Have you ever boxed before? Ever worn a pair of gloves?” 

Whatever Natalie said faded into the background as Tony crossed by James and patted at his shoulder, then dropped onto the bench seat next to Pepper. “Hi.” 

“No, Tony.” 

“I need one.” 

“Absolutely not.” Pepper was quickly signing as she went through the different screens on the tablet. “That is the world’s most expensive sexual harassment suit just waiting to happen. You want a pretty assistant, hire James.” 

“I just might.” Tony wrinkled his nose towards James who only smirked and shifted back to watching the ring. “Seriously, where did you find her?” 

“Legal.” 

“Pep.” 

“Tony.” Pepper handed him the tablet. “Yes, I’ve hired her as my assistant. Yes, she has every credential I had when you hired me, plus several I didn’t realize would be needed for this job but I now know are invaluable and no, I don’t even want you talking to her if you’re going to get up to your usual shenanigans.” 

“Don’t worry.” Tony nudged her lightly. “I’m done with my usual shenanigans. She seems like trouble though. Are you sure you’re alright with having an assistant who rivals Ms. Marilyn Monroe in both looks and shape?” 

“I am neither that insecure nor that jealous.” 

“Aw.” Tony nudged Pepper’s side again. “You can tell me the truth.” 

“Ugh fine, yes Tony. Don’t you know I chose her specifically for her eye candy attributes? You got to look at my beautiful face and great rack all these years, I feel like I should get the same out of my personal assistant.” Pepper was clearly teasing, but Tony’s jaw still about hit the ground. “I’ll be requiring her to wear those high waisted pants and ruffled blouses every day too, that will certainly guarantee her a Christmas bonus.” 

“My god, Ms. Potts.” Tony managed over a shout of laughter. “One day a CEO and already lecherous and slightly corrupt!” 

“Yes, I’m terrible.” Pepper laughed too and tapped at the screen. “Now sign! And please don’t repeat anything I just said, you know I was only kidding but the last thing we need is the tabloids thinking the newly minted CEO is not only lesbian but also apparently sleeping with her assistant.” 

“I have no issues with either of those things.” Tony objected, and Pepper agreed in a softer tone and pointed look towards James, “Well, neither do I.” 

“Uh Pep.” Contracts momentarily forgotten, Tony scratched at his chin self consciously. “Listen. About that– I mean, about James–” 

“WHOA!” In the ring, Happy yelped in surprise and a good dose of fear and they looked up in time to see Natalie all but climb Happy’s frame and hook both legs around his neck, taking the big driver down with a wrench of her thighs and mat shaking thud. 

“Holy–!” Pepper covered her mouth with both hands and the tablet dropped right from Tony’s lax hands in shock. “What–?!” 

“Mr. Stark.” Natalie slipped out of the ring calm as anything, stepped back into her stilettos and smoothed a non existent wrinkle from her blouse. “If you’d finish signing, I’ll need your finger print and we can begin the transfer over.” 

“Uh…yep. I will definitely never be arguing with you. Nuh-uh.” 

Too stunned by the show of athleticism and general bad-assery, and still sort of laughing at Happy wheezing on the mat, Tony went back to signing and Pepper went back to watching closely to be sure he did exactly as told. 

Natalie however kept her chin up and eyes trained on James, who spared only the briefest glance at Happy and then met the notary’s gaze head on. 

There was something about Natalie Rushman, something too sharp in her eyes and too purposeful in her casual posture and too aware in every word she spoke and it made James’s skin crawl. He couldn’t push through the nagging almost-memory of knowing her from somewhere, the not quite certainty of having stared at that same barely there smirk before but with the uncomfortable overlay of cross hairs over her face. 

It was bitter in the back of James’s throat, knowing that somehow Natalie knew…. something. She knew something James desperately needed to know and he almost choked from the certainty of danger in the room. 

She was dangerous, but James couldn’t say anything until he knew for sure. 

She was dangerous and judging by the way she kept staring, Natalie planned to be dangerous to him very soon. 

So James leaned forward in his chair, squared his shoulders and tipped his chin up and glared daggers right at her, daring the redhead to do something stupid, promising to tear her apart if she so much as breathed wrong towards either Ms. Potts or Tony. 

But Natalie only twisted her lips and turned back to the signing with a professionally fake tone of voice and an uncomfortable knowing in her smile. 

Shit, she was dangerous.

James just had to figure out why. 

**************

**************

“Fury.” 

“Secured line?” 

“Of course.” 

“Romanoff. What do you have to report?” 

“No issues with either Stark or Potts but there has been an unexpected development with another person living at the house.” 

“Who?” 

“He goes by James. Just James.” 

“So what’s the problem?” 

“Remember Odessa? The nuclear engineer I was smuggling out of Iran and the unfortunate encounter in the mountains?” 

“The bullet that ruined your bikini plans. Yes, I remember your complaints vividly.” 

“Remember who I swore shot me?” 

“… … …” 

“Fury, are you still there?” 

“…. Are you sure?” 

“Positive. Does this change my orders?” 

“No. Stay on the Stark situation.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“I’ll keep my eye on James.” 

Chapter Text

37% 

“JARVIS?” 

“The constant tests you’ve been running with the new suit have taken a toll, sir. My original algorithm assumed you would be resting more days than not, as one should when faced with the possibly of an upcoming expiration date but with your continued activity, my projections have been rendered obsolete.”

“Okay.” Tony squeezed at the blood toxicity monitor until the casing edges cut into his palm. “Newest estimations?” 

“Given your rate of use with the reactor and the new, more powerful prototype, my previous count of three months with minimal usage will need to be dialed back to little more than eight weeks, sir.” 

“Okay.” He said again, almost neutrally as if he wasn’t discussing an expiration date with his AI. “Okay, little more than eight weeks. So all the tests I ran in the War Machine prototype over the last few days cost me what, seven days?” 

“Eleven days, actually.” 

“Okay.” Tony said a third time, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. “That’s– thanks, J.” 

The tests were necessary, they really were. Coding Rhodey’s suit ahead of time was important because Tony was running out of time. The Senate was definitely going to order him to turn over the tech, and even if they didn’t, the suits would definitely be confiscated by the Department of Defense at some point whether Tony was around or not. The least he could do was make sure armor could only be used by one man, that the technology inside was coded to the one person Tony knew wouldn’t make a mockery or a weapon out of what was supposed to be a shield. 

Right after Obadiah, Rhodey had been so purposefully casually about eyeballing the still unfinished silver suit and commenting, “You should come up with a name for your tech, Tony. Calling it ‘the suit’ doesn’t seem like enough. I’d call it…War Machine or something.” 

War Machine and Tony had etched the name in tiny letters along the jawline of the helmet so when Rhodey suited up for the first time, he’d hopefully remember that throw away comment and laugh a little bit. 

War Machine and it was fine tuned to the point of near impossible maneuvers, filled to the brim with every prototype weapon Tony had designed for his own suit and a few more that were meant for something a little more hulking, a little more heavy duty. An individual arc reactor placed within the molded chest would power the suit for ever with the added benefit of not poisoning the wearer and–

–and Tony’s hands shook when he unscrewed the cap on a green smoothie. 

37%. 

“How is the uh–” the first drink was always brutal, and Tony had to put his head down and suck in a deep breath to get over the taste. “–how is the suitcase suit coming? We need a better name for that, don’t we?” 

“Perhaps we can call it a football, sir.” 

“Right.” Tony nodded a few times. “Carry it in a briefcase just like all the nuke launch codes. That will definitely reinforce the Senate’s thought of my suit being a weapon of mass destruction. Great idea.” 

“Your mockery wounds me.” 

“No, I was serious.” Tony laughed up at the petulant AI. “We’ll call it a football. Make Happy practice playing catch with it. Uhhhh okay. Football. How is it coming?” 

“Nearly completed.” 

“Good. I need an option beyond hauling the full suit everywhere, and so will Rhodey. Have we started construction on the individual gauntlets yet? I’m thinking something that comes out of my watch.” 

“It will have to be near nano technology to accomplish that, but we can try.” 

“Let’s try. I’d like the football ready before Monaco, I need to take it for a test drive somewhere outside of Dum-E’s fire extinguisher range.” Tony glanced over at the impressive dent in the lab ceiling that had been one of his very first test runs. “Also some place where if the repulsors come online too soon, I can hit the atmosphere and not the ceiling.” 

“Of course sir. Hurtling off into unknown and uncharted space would always be the preferred option before bouncing off support beams and landing on priceless car collections.” 

“You know me too well, J.” Tony leaned back in the chair and blew out a deep breath. “Show me the night sky. Stars above Manhattan, maybe. What I’d be looking at if I actually had the time to build that tower.” 

“Does this mean you’ve decided to scrap the plans for Stark Tower?” The space above Tony’s head lit holographic blue then settled into a starry night, the correct constellations and moon placement for the Manhattan sky projected against the ceiling. 

“I won’t have a chance to even get the blueprints approved.” Tony stared up at the stars, sipping idly from his smoothie. “No sense doing that when I won’t be around to see the ground breaking ceremony.” 

“Sir, if I may–” 

“Maybe blasting off into the atmosphere wouldn’t be such a bad way to go.” Tony interrupted. “I’ve always wanted to see space, maybe I’ll get lucky and the new suit will tear a hole in the sky and show me what’s beyond, what’s waiting out there.” 

And softer, “It’d be a good way to go, don’t you think? Space?” 

The artificial star light reflected off the tears gathering in Tony’s eyes and he tried to blink them away. “Would be nice to skip the poisoning and the hospice care and the heart failure and everyone crying, you know. Higher, faster, further like our friend Carol used to say. She did it, she just went right up there into the sky higher, faster further and she never came back down again. Fuckin’ wild.” 

Another sip. “My repulsors are better than the prototype light speed engine was, a little bit of torque and we could break the sound barrier ten times over and then some. I could take the suit up until the thrusters give out and then we could just float up there in the stars. Fall asleep and drift away.” 

JARVIS was quiet and Tony put a heart to his chest as it squeezed around a too choppy breath. “Would be nice to just fall asleep, J. It’d be nice to finally get some rest.” 

The stars above Manhattan moved too slowly to notice, but Tony sat and watched them anyway, alone in the semi dark lab for close to an hour before his watch pinged that it was time to get on the plane towards New York. 

“Save this for me.” Tony reached out and touched one of the tiny specks of lights, his fingers passing through the hologram. “Save it so I can look at it again, okay?” 

“Of course, sir.” 

“Thank you.” Tony gathered up a few things for his pockets then ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. If he was going to go on what was sort of a first date with an amnesiac former soldier, he should probably wash some of the depression off first. “I’m off to the Expo, J. Wish me luck.” 

“Good luck.” JARVIS said automatically, and then, “Please come home again, sir. I wish you all the rest in the world, but I’d rather it be here than drifting off in the stars.” 

Tony’s smile up at the ceiling was wobbly and a little sad. 

“Good night, J.” 

**************

**************

The Stark jet cut the nearly five hour flight from Malibu to New York down to little more than two hours, and Tony spent most of it sitting next to Pepper going through notes for his speech, additional paperwork for the company and what looked like several minutes of nothing but Tony teasing the formidable redhead and Pepper giving it all right back and then some if Tony’s faux wounded expressions were anything to go by. 

They were laughing and a few times Tony reached to hold Pepper’s hand, winding their fingers together and kissing her knuckles while Pepper just rolled her eyes at whatever he said. They were clearly best friends, clearly in sync after what James had found out was over a decade of working together and it was honestly remarkable to see.

More than once Tony finished Pepper’s sentences, at least twice she took a bite of her food and then handed him the fork to take a bite of his own. Tony reached to touch the reactor beneath his shirt and Pepper brushed his hands away, she fiddled with the top button of her suit and Tony suggested showing more cleavage if she didn’t like being so buttoned up and Pepper only sighed.

A very very quiet part of the soldier felt a twinge of jealousy whenever Pepper would get a full laugh out of Tony, but he pushed it away every time. Jealousy over such a close friendship was ridiculous and unnecessary and the sort of thing that made James’s throat taste bitter. He didn’t remember past relationships, didn’t know if he’d ever been in love but he remembered being jealous when other people could be open with their love and their desires and he had to hide.

Why he had hid, James wasn’t really sure. But he remembered the jealousy twisting his stomach and the unfairness of it all making his chest too tight and he didn’t want to feel that way ever when he looked at Tony and Pepper.

So James pushed it away and looked out the window instead, watched the clouds race by beneath the jet as it tore through the sky towards New York and when Tony finally finished up with Pepper and came to sit in the chair across from him, James looked up with a ready smile.

“Hey. All done working?”

“At least for right now. Plane rides are supposed to be relaxing, not about crunching numbers or ignoring the person I’m set to spend the evening with.” Tony stretched out in the chair and loosened his tie as he looked James over, lingering over the stretch of the red sweater over James’s frankly ridiculous shoulders. Wow. “You–” seriously, wow. “– you look great.”

“Duds this nice will make any fella look great.” James’s heart flip flopped a little when Tony kept looking, and he touched at his empty left sleeve self consciously. “Sure was nice of the store people to send over one of those fancy pins for this side. I just cut the sleeves off all my other shirts.”

“You’ll be two thumbs up in no time, so please don’t hack at your new clothes.” Tony nudged his foot against James. “You’ll need both sleeves eventually.”

James grinned and slid his foot further alongside Tony’s shoe. “Sure thing, Tony.”

“You know,” Tony cocked his head and tried to pretend like playing footsy wasn’t making him blush. He was over forty years old, damn it. “When you’re relaxed you sound like you’re from New York but like, New York from the movies. Saturday Night Fever, Bronx Tale, West Side Story. That style.”

“Oh yeah?” James raised his eyebrows. “What does that mean?”

“It means–” Tony started to say something about smooth accents and flirty one-liners, about pretty boys with greasy hair and leather jackets and slick dance moves, but changed his mind because it was a little embarrassing to admit his short lived musical obsession had basically shaped his wet dreams for a good five years. 

“It means you sort of sound old fashioned. Not in uh– not in a bad way. My Auntie Peggy was around in the forties and whenever she tells war stories she copies how the boys talked back then and you remind me of it a little bit.”

James still looked confused and Tony waved him off with a self conscious laugh. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Ignore all that and focus on not cutting up your sweater, yeah? I like the red on you.”

“That’s why I picked it out.” James answered honestly, and Tony’s dark eyes sparked in interest. “Knew you liked the red and figured if you were gonna dress up, maybe I should dress up a little too?”

“I don’t know if I’m necessarily dressed up.” Tony picked at the hem of his suit jacket. “The monkey suit is standard outfit for CEO’s of multi billion dollar–”

“Former CEO, darling!” Pepper called and Tony grinned, “ –former CEO’s of multi billion dollar companies. I wouldn’t be wearing this at all if I thought Pep would let me wear my sneakers and ACDC shirt. Only upside of this thing is that I can spill cotton candy on my shirt all day and then button the jacket and no one would know any better.”

“Cotton candy?” Oh James remembered that, he knew he did. Overly sweet and pastel colored, sugar-grit teeth and sticky fingers. Eating a big piece of it and then passing some over to St—to St–

–migraine. Instant and blinding–

–passing it over to someone who would get sick after eating only a few bites, so James would toss it in the trash and pretend to have a stomach ache too so they wouldn’t feel bad.

Shit his head hurt, but James got a glimpse of dark blue eyes and a stubborn smile before the memory faded away to nothing, and when he opened his eyes again Tony was watching him closely.

“Where’d you go?” Tony asked quietly, and James whispered just as quietly, “I don’t… don’t really know. You said cotton candy and I got a flash of something… I dunno.”

“Things are coming back to you?”

“I’m not sure.” James leaned forward in the seat and pushed his hand into his hair, groaning under his breath as the migraine throbbed at his temples. “Just bits and pieces is all.”

“Makes sense.” Tony reached to touch James’s shoulder but stopped himself at the last second. “I mean, you getting flashes of memories right now. I'm not exactly stable but this is probably the most stable you've been in a while?”

“At least a year.”

“Right.” Again, Tony reached out to try and touch and comfort, and again he let his hand drop away. James hadn’t wanted to be touched right away the last time he’d had a hard time, he probably didn’t want it now. “Repressed memories have a nasty habit of showing up right when we think we’re moving on, life gets low stress and suddenly our dreams get stressful. It happens.”

“Yeah? You real familiar with it?” James tried to slow his breathing down, purposefully inhaling and then forcefully exhaling until the extra oxygen erased the sparks behind his eyes. “Why’s that?”

“I’m the king of repressing–”

“Christ, my head hurts. Tony, will you c'mere and sit by me?”

“–memories.” Tony waved at one of the stewardesses and tapped at his own temple so she would bring him some headache medication, then slid out of his own seat and into the one next to James, rotating so their knees touched. “Better?”

“Thank you.” James’s fingers tightened in his hair. “Why are you the king of repressing memories?”

“A whole list of reasons that would only make your headache worse.” Tony hesitated, hesitated, hesitated, then finally tried to untangle James’s fingers, loosening the digits one by one until James relented and relaxed, clasping Tony’s hand warm in his own. “…better?”

“Thank you.” James said again, instantly feeling better now that he was holding tight to Tony instead of pulling at his own hair, the migraine easing as he quit chasing the thought about cotton candy and forced himself back to the moment. “Sorry. Trying to force the memories–”

“–gives you a headache.” Tony finished and James smiled the tiniest bit cos Tony was completing his sentences just like Pepper did. “Yeah been there, done that.”

“Don’t wanna ruin tonight by having a headache.” James muttered apologetically. “Sorry, Tony.”

“Tonight hasn’t even started.” Tony waved the apology off, squeezed at James’s hand and then let go. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll both have headaches by the time we get through the noise and crowds at the Expo, it’s fine.”

“Okay.” James sort of hated that Tony had let go of his hand, but he didn’t comment, only smoothed his hair back where it’d come free from the messy bun and cleared his throat. “How far out are we?”

“About an hour.” Tony didn’t go back to his own chair, and James nudged at his knee gratefully. “How much news do you watch, James?”

“Um.” James blinked, thrown by the abrupt topic change. “None?”

“None.” Tony repeated. “At all?”

“Don’t watch TV unless you’re making me watch some god-awful movie.” James admitted and Tony’s smile flashed quick and pleased. “Why?”

“I’ve been on the news a lot lately.” Tony hedged. “Just uh– just curious if you’d seen anything I needed to explain or apologize for maybe?”

“Apologize?”

“Like if you learned about my weird sunglasses collection or that I eat everything with a three tined fork instead of a four tined like a normal person.” Tony suggested, and James’s shoulders shook with quiet laughter. “The press knows a lot about me and you don’t really know much about me so…”

He let the sentence trail off, watching closely for anything like recognition on James’s face. The downside of a migraine of course, was that it hurt to even breathe. The upside of a migraine was that it was impossible to hide even the smallest reactions when your head felt like it might explode and Tony didn’t really want to use it as a way to get a glimpse at James’s thoughts, but he did it anyway because he wanted to know.

Truth be told, Tony was starting to wonder just how long he could keep Iron Man quiet from James before it slid from ‘need to know basis’ towards 'you were lying to me’ accusations. If James hadn’t figured out that Tony was the same Tony Stark that was also Iron Man, Tony didn’t really want to say anything. But if James had figured it out and was just staying quiet for privacy’s sake… well Tony didn’t want to let it go too long just in case the soldier started to think Tony was leaving him out of things.

So Tony asked again, “Heard anything about me lately?”

“Everything I want to know about you I learn when we’re together like this.” James answered, and with a smile that had no business being both shy and almost unbearably hopeful, “And I like all of it so far.”

Tony flushed a surprised pink, and up near the front of the plane, Pepper just rolled her eyes when she caught it.

Idiot boys practically in love.

Sheesh.

***************

***************

“I’ve had a lot of people ask me where the dancers are this time around.” Tony stood up on stage in front of the thousands of people who had come to the Expo tonight, alone except for the old fashioned microphone he held in one hand. “I know, I know, you were hoping for more explosions, more fireworks, definitely some more bikinis and high kicks, right?”

The crowd tittered in agreement and Tony’s mouth ticked up in a quick smile. “Yeah, we all love that, we all love science when it’s accompanied by pretty girls and loud music. Here’s the thing about science though. Science isn’t always big leap forward in technology, it’s not always flashy designs and world changing breakthroughs and Nobel prizes. Most of the time science is quiet.”

Appropriately, Tony paused for a breath and the audience held theirs in anticipation.

“Most of the time science is still.” he said even softer, and the crowd edged forward with wide eyes, sure that this was all just build up to something incredible. “Most of the time science is one little adjustment that somehow changes life as we know it and maybe not even as we know it, but changes life as one person knows it and sometimes, that’s enough.”

Tony held up the microphone and the cameras zoomed in on it. “This is the same microphone my Dad used at the World’s Fair Expo back in World War II. Well–” another one of those quick smiles. “–it’s not exactly the same microphone, but it’s an exact working replica with exactly the sort of tech upgrades you would expect from Stark Industries. Why does that matter, though? Why do any of you care about me getting weirdly sentimental about a copy of a microphone my Dad once spit all over?”

The audience laughed again and Tony swallowed past the lump in his throat. “It matters because it’s only in looking to the past that we find answers for our future. What were once ground breaking theories are today the building blocks our of standard operations. All the pieces that make up my next generation Stark phone started out in something as simple as this mic right here.”

Tony held up the microphone again. “Seventy years ago, my dad stood on a stage just like this one and bragged about a flying car that only got a few inches off the ground. What he considered a spectacular failure was actually the inspiration for my Stark repulsor engines that will revolutionize the fuel industry and put an end to oil spills and dumps in the most fragile parts of our eco systems.”

“The past teaches us how to move forward, what steps to avoid and which leaps to take and we can’t forget that. That’s why I re-started the Expo– learning from looking back before we move forward and that's what science is about.”

A smattering of applause and Tony waited until it died down. “Science isn’t always flashy.” He said again. “Most of the time it’s quiet. But even the quiet discoveries matter, whether they become something that changes the world later on, or never do anything more significant than what this microphone does right here–”

Tony paused, smiled, “–connects us to people we love.”

The lights dimmed and Tony set the modified microphone down on the stage, pressed a few buttons and stepped away as it split into pieces and assembled itself into something of a tripod. The microphone-turned-robot rotated its speaker to face the audience, a separate projector unhinged from the back and–

–”Hey Ma.” A young soldier clearly somewhere sandy, waving at the audience from the holographic screen the microphone had projected above the crowd. “I hope you’re having a good time out there tonight, I love you and I miss you and I’ll be home soon.”

“This message is for my brother!” Another soldier head to toe in combat gear, grinning into the camera. “Mr. Stark said he’d get you a ticket to the Expo tonight so I hope you showed up! This message is coming to you from way the fuck over in Sand Dune Country and I love you, but I’m glad you’re home safe with my new niece-y instead of slogging through this mess with me. Be home soon!”

The messages kept rolling, and one by one different people in the audience burst into tear and cheers as they saw their deployed loved one up on the screen for a surprise message. It had taken months to coordinate– sending out Stark phones to the soldiers to submit a video, getting tickets to their family and making sure they had a ride to the Expo and a place to stay– months to coordinate, and Tony stood back behind the curtain of the stage and listened to them play as he looked down at the picture of him and the soldier in the convoy in Afghanistan.

Despite Tony’s only half serious warning to the soldier back then, the picture had been promptly posted on social media and now Tony was grateful for it. Three minutes after the picture had been taken the convoy had been attacked and all those young people– all those kids had been lost.

“Hey Mom, Dad. Sorry I missed your anniversary but I’ll be back for Christmas and will make it up in hugs then!”

Tony closed his phone and cleared his throat as the audience burst into shouts when a local boy from Flushing popped up on the screen with his message. Speech was done, crowd was appropriately wowed and now he had a sort of date with James to get back to.

It wasn’t the time to get maudlin and teary, not tonight.

“Tony.” Pepper looked immensely proud, and Tony tore his eyes away from the almost blinding smile on James’s face to accept a kiss from her. “Well done. I really thought you were going to bring out the dancers again, and I’m so glad you didn’t.”

“It pains me to admit that no science has been accomplished when booty shorts and high heels were in the general vicinity.” Tony said faux seriously. “The dancers were a necessary sacrifice for the moment.”

“Well I appreciate it.” Pepper chuckled and kissed him one more time. “I have to network since apparently everyone wants to talk to the new CEO–”

“–and I have cotton candy to buy and experiment booths to check out.” Tony finished, cutting Pepper off before she could suggest he go along with her. “Toodle-oo and all that. Have fun.”

The moment Pepper disappeared into the crowd, Tony turned back to James, hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels as he asked, “So. How did I do? Can I color you impressed?”

“You can color me whatever you want, Tony.” James grinned and Tony barked a surprised laugh at the blatant flirting. “Was a good speech, but I think it’s the first time I’ve ever heard you really talk about your dad. Were you and him close?”

“Not even a little bit.” Tony shook his head, then motioned for James to follow him to the outer paths of the Expo so they could walk the perimeter where it was a little quieter. “He was always busy working and I was always busy being as obnoxious as possible. He and Ma were gone before I was old enough to realize what I was missing out on so–” Tony shrugged like the memory of that last night with his parents still didn’t hurt like a knife in his heart. “–anyway. This whole Expo was his idea, he brought it back in the seventies, always wanted to do it again so I thought now was as good a time as any.”

“Huh.” James looked down at where their hands were nearly touching as they walked, wondering if he could just grab Tony’s hand and hold it for a little bit, wondering if that was okay outside of either of them having a panic attack.“You said something about a flying car?”

“Back in the forties, my Dad wanted to show off this flying car idea, so he brought it to the Worlds Fair.” Tony flashed a peace sign at a girl when she squealed and pointed at him in excitement. “Howard’s always considered it his great embarrassment, to have created something that failed in the public eye but you know– it’s been seventy something years and we still haven’t gotten any closer to flying cars? Even his failure was a good century ahead of it’s time.”

“Your Dad’s name was Howard? Howard Stark?” That sounded familiar in some empty aching way, but James forgot about it when he stopped in front of what looked like an old timey war advertisement for the draft, pictures in black and white of soldiers marching off in neat lines. It made his head hurt the same way memories always did and he blinked at the display a few times. “What’s this?”

“Traditionally the World’s Fair and Expo were events to drum up that All American spirit.” Tony tapped the vintage posters and mocked one of the old radio voices, “Look at how great our country is doing with these advancements! Look how much money we have to put this show on! Don’t you feel patriotic? Don’t wait for the draft, real American men sign up willingly for their country!”

“People could sign up for the army right here at the fair.” Ouch that drummed at the back of James’s mind, and when he caught a flash of shaggy blonde hair out of the corner of his eye, the drumming got worse. “They did that?”

“All the time.” Tony scoffed like he couldn’t believe it. “Just boys too, kids really. Came for the party, left for the cause. Mind boggling. We don’t do that here, no way. I’d never ask people to show up for cotton candy and then hope they join the war effort, that’s nuts. But they did back in the day and the boys that went off to war– “

He sighed out loud. “Well you know. They don’t always come back whole. So this is a nice reference to days gone by, little bit of nostalgia, a way to remember them I guess. Besides, America’s greatest hero signed up for the war effort at one of these things, it would be a shame to just ignore it I think.”

“Huh.” James didn’t want another headache like the one he’d had on the plane so he stepped away from the Army display and towards a cotton candy vendor. “Time for sweets?”

“Oh, it is always time for sweets.”

*******************

*******************

It was easy to get lost in the Expo, easy and more fun than either man had had in ages wandering from booth to booth and taking the circular paths between the connected sections to sample all the different foods, resting on the grass and beneath the planted trees when their feet got tired, browsing through the vendors shops and trying their hand at any scientific demonstration that took volunteers.

James was fascinated by everything from the wireless electronics to the slime that exploded all over them when he added too much of whatever was in the purple beaker. The soldier laughed until he nearly choked seeing Tony with neon green slime in his perfectly combed hair, and was still laughing when Tony dragged him to a demonstration that had a ball and a fancy light and zapped James with enough electricity to make his scruff stand right up on his chin.

“I love roller coasters!” James announced at one point because somehow he knew that was true but Tony begged off the ride with a hand over his arc reactor an apologetic smile so instead they climbed into one of the rowboats at the man made lake and rowed across it to see all the different water experiments– artificial plant life that would help sustain life in otherwise barren bodies of water, hybrid fish that grew bigger than their predecessors but took less time to mature for a faster food source, personal purification processes that only needed a mild current to activate the device and provide clean drinking water.

After the lake was a sphere that simulated life on a distant planet and James took one look at it and shook his head, digging his feet in figuratively and literally as Tony tugged at his arm and pleaded, “Don’t you want to know what it would be like to live on Mars!?” and retorting, “Tony, m'still trying to figure out Earth!”

A display that required goggles and gloves as scientists replicated the creation of new elements, some that synthesized with nothing more than a quiet hiss, some that exploded loud enough to make James grab Tony and turn around, trying to shield the smaller brunette with his body. Tony laughed at him then, laughed and then checked that James was okay and not triggered by it, laughed and then blushed a little when James’s arm lingered at his waist just a second longer than necessary.

“Elements are the building blocks of the universe.” James read on a sign after reluctantly letting Tony go. “So this is what everything is made of.”

“Everything.” Tony confirmed.

“So how do they make new ones?”

“Apparently with a bang.” Tony said wryly and James grinned sheepishly. 

“Have you made one in that fancy lab?”

“I’ve never even tried.” Tony admitted after a minute of thought. “I sort of remember Dad talking about making a new one ages ago, he had designs and diagrams for it but I must have only been eight or nine, I barely remember it. I bet his notes are around somewhere in all the boxes Pepper won’t let me throw away.”

“Why haven’t you tried?” James looked back at the display when another element went bang! and someone else screamed. “Bet you’re smart enough to do it.”

“I’m smart enough.” Tony agreed, wrinkling his nose into a smile when James huffed at him teasingly. “But I’ve been busy, got all these other projects going on and all of them seem more important than creating new building blocks for the universe. That’s like designing a new Lego. It’s great and all, but who cares? There’s enough of them out there, why do we need another?” 

“Lego.” James repeated. “What–”

“I’ve got millions of them in storage at Malibu, we’ll pull them out one day and I’ll show you why I hold the MIT record for fastest recorded time building an entire Death Star model.”

“Half those words don’t mean anything to me, Tony.” James admitted, tone just a little clipped in frustration. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for what you’re missing.” Tony waved him off and James pointed out, “Happy said that exact same thing to me.”

“He’s said the exact same thing to me many times.” They passed a knife display, and Tony pointed one out to James that was somehow even fancier than the one in the store had been. “Except when I black out drunk, then he yells at me for what I miss. He’s right to do it, too. How about that knife? You like that one?” 

“Too pretty to kill someone with.” James said bluntly, and when Tony’s jaw dropped open in shock, he apologized, “Ah hell, sorry. Dunno why I said that.”

“Christ you’re intense.” Tony only laughed though, and pushed James on from the display. “Maybe we don’t say things like that in the middle of a crowd. Maybe we just get some more cotton candy.”

“Probably a good idea.” James felt foolish for blurting out the killing thing, foolish and embarrassed as hell but it was so easy to speak his thoughts around Tony, that one had just… slipped out. 

Usually James thought about what he wanted to say, turned it over in his mind until he felt like it sounded normal, weighed his words and modulated his tone and then spoke, but he didn’t have to do that with Tony. He didn’t even have to pretend to be okay around Tony, he could just be James and all the broken pieces and panic attacks and saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and then maybe sometimes saying the wrong thing at the right time cos Tony would smile up at him sort of like he was doing right now–

–oh shit, he hadn’t been listening.

“Lost you for a minute.” Tony never said it like he was judging James, only ever like he knew what it was like to get lost in his head and maybe be a little afraid of never finding his way out again. “Where’d you go?”

“Was thinkin’ bout ya.” The words slipped out soft and a little lyrical, the voice in James’s head that Tony said sounded Brooklyn speaking up enough to be smooth and charming. “How it’s um– how it’s so easy to be with you.”

“Yeah, I’m a real catch.” Tony sassed immediately, but his smile was just for James when he continued, “You’re easy to be around too. Not what I expected when I invaded your booth at the diner for the sake of awkward conversation and what definitely sounded like a proposition.”

“Were you propositionin’ me, sugar?” James asked, low and coaxing and surprising because he hadn’t meant to call Tony sugar, hadn’t meant to turn the conversation this way but now Tony was staring up at him with stars in his eyes and sort of leaning forward and hell, James didn’t remember much of anything at all but he knew what this moment meant so he leaned forward too and–

“Oh Jesus, not right here.” Tony jerked back a step, both hands up and expression going guarded even as he tried to laugh the moment off. “No, um– no. That’s not–”

Shit. “Shit, sorry.” James backed up too, face flaming and heart clenching in his chest. “Sorry, Tony I just thought– I mean you were lookin’ at me like that and I thought you wanted–”

“No, you don’t have to say sorry, that’s not your fault, I should have–” Tony looked like he was sort of panicking, a hand at his chest and another held up so James wouldn’t get closer. “Damn it. This– this just got really awkward.”

“Tony, I'm sorry.”

“Nope. My fault for making you think–” Tony’s throat jerked as he swallowed.  Hello insecurities from twenty fives years in the closet. “– it’s fine, James. It’s fine. Let’s just keep walking. There’s still a lot to see and I want you to see it all so let’s just–” another hard swallow. “Let’s just keep walking.”

“Um. Sure.” James fell back into step next to Tony, and after a minute the brunette started talking again, chattering about whatever they were passing, telling a story about something he and Rhodey did one time or another, and after another few minutes James relaxed enough to even laugh a little at the stories.

But the moment from before was gone, the easy smiles and the quick laughter, the way their hands had brushed once, twice, three times as they wandered the paths.

That moment was gone and James felt it’s absence like a slap in the face.

He really couldn’t trust his mind could he? Not even in this, not even when he was one hundred percent sure Tony had wanted a kiss.

Couldn’t trust his mind even with things that should come natural, cos findin’ a fella and wanting to kiss him– that should come real natural right?

….Right?

Christ, he was broken.

****************

****************

“Ms. Potts, you asked me to find as much information as possible on James?” Natalie found Pepper out on the balcony of the hotel room, overlooking the lights of the Expo in the adjoining field. “I’m afraid I wasn’t able to find much.”

“Alright then.” Pepper was halfway through her first drink of the night, weary lines creased at the corner of her eyes. “Tell me what you found anyway.”

“The diner where Mr. Stark and James met was apparently an every day spot for James.” Natalie rattled off the information she’d learned in short, quick sentences. “Waitresses say he was polite but quiet. He glared at anyone who messed with them so they always let him stay longer than anyone else. They identified the shelter down the block as one where James slept, I spoke to the church folk who run the shelter and they said he was quiet and polite as well. Has no or little memories of anything past a year ago, has never showed any signs of violence or even a temper and they have no idea what happened to his arm beyond knowing he used to be a soldier.”

“Okay well.” Pepper pursed her lips and blew out a breath. “Anyone that would keep waitresses from being harassed and could survive a year in a shelter without losing their temper couldn’t be all that bad. Why do you look so worried about him?”

“Not worried.” Natalie smoothed the anxious from her expression. The news about James was so opposite of who she knew 'James’ was that it was giving her a headache, but she ignored it to smile at her employer. “Not worried at all, Ms. Potts. Simply wondering if we should add James to the insurance plan if he’s going to spend time with Mr. Stark in the lab or even traveling with us.”

“Of course, that’s an excellent idea, see that it gets done.”

“Yes, Ms. Potts. Will there be anything else?”

“Have you booked our flights to Monaco?” Pepper poured herself a second drink and picked up her phone to scroll through the dozens of congratulatory emails still rolling in from various shareholders and board members. “Add a seat for James, I think he will most likely be going along with Tony anywhere at this point.”

“Do you think…” Natalie hesitated. “Are they involved?”

“Would that offend you in any way, Natalie?” Pepper arched a graceful eyebrow towards her new assistant. “Because if so, you are welcome to tell me why and then to pack your things and leave immediately because I won’t tolerate–”

“Ms. Potts.” Natalie held her hand up and shook her head. “I was simply wondering for reasons of hotel rooms. I am the last person to have any sort of issue with whether or not Mr. Stark prefers his dates as blessed as I am–” a pat at her chest and Pepper snorted a laugh. “–or as blessed as James is.”

Pepper laughed even harder, “Well then, by all means book us four rooms. Two adjoining for you and I, two adjoining for Tony and James. I’m not sure if they will share or not and to be honest, I’d rather not know. I like to think as CEO my days of knowing the status of Tony’s bed partners are behind me.”

“Of course, Ms. Potts.” Natalie smiled. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“'You too Natalie, thank you.”

Pepper went back to sipping at her drink and idly reading emails and when the exhaustion of the day finally caught up to her, she turned in for the night. Her calendar was so full these days and she was so tired and oh Lord, the sun would be up in just a few hours and she’d have to start another day all over again…

… …

… …

…On the other side of the world the sun was coming up, brilliant and beautiful over the skyline of Monaco and at the international airport, it was time for a shift change as the night workers called their goodbyes and switched spots with the early morning crew.  

The young man at the counter had only barely clocked in when the doors opened and a line of international passengers flooded the terminals. Checking passports was easy enough so long as the passengers had their papers in order, and he went through two dozen entries before any one passport caught his eye and tripped the computer’s marker.

“Oh, this should just take a second to double check, sorry about that Mr.–” he paused when he saw the myriad of tattoos on the man, the bedraggled black and white hair, gold teeth glinting back at him. “Uh, is it Vanko? What um– what brings you to Monaco?”

“I’m working at the Grand Prix.” came the gravelly answer, a smile that was somehow savage stretching the man’s lips. “Hoping to catch up with an old friend.”

“Oh.” the computer okay'ed the passport, so the attendant handed it back quickly. “Well um– welcome to Monaco. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“I plan to.”

Chapter Text

“I think there’s an issue with connectivity.” Tony chewed on the end of a pen as he watched James go through a series of repetitive motions with the prosthetic arm. “Which makes no sense at all, because obviously I did everything correct. Are you sure you’re doing that right?” 

“Touchin’ the tips of my fingers together?” James raised his eyebrows and tried to touch the ring finger of the metal limb together with the thumb, gritting his teeth in frustration when the joints hitched and froze. “Yeah Tony, pretty sure I remember how to move my hand.” 

“Okay fine, maybe I screwed up somewhere.” Tony huffed out a breath, blowing messy hair off his forehead. “Hold your breath, this will probably feel weird.” 

The twist and pop of the arm disconnecting certainly did feel weird, the tug and strain at the plates in James’s chest when his shoulder weighed heavy for just a moment and then lightened in the next alien and uncomfortable. He flinched more from the awkward noise than from any actual pain though, grimaced away from a flash of nightmare that felt like being strapped down and hurt, and when Tony paused to ask, “Alright?” he simply nodded. 

Sure. He was fine. 

“This will only take a few minutes, hang tight.” Tony carried the arm back to another table and James reached up to feel gingerly along his shoulder, tracing the scars from the hard stump over to his collarbone. 

Seeing himself reflected in the large mirror tilted above the chair was… well it was worse than James thought it would be. Tony had suggested that seeing what was happening might make the process a little easier but all James could see was damage, ruined skin and twisted muscles and a deathly pale pallor the sun never seemed to touch. 

It was awful. He was awful and the situation was made all the worse for the way Tony was distant today, this morning, last night and every night since James had blundered into the not-kiss at the Expo. 

The surprisingly easy laughter from just last week was gone, the quick smiles and nearly shared thoughts non existent. Tony wasn’t being cold, but he was stiff. He wasn’t avoiding spending time together, but movie nights happened with either man sat on the opposite side of the couch now, and attaching the new prosthetic arm was the closest Tony had been to James in days. 

Everything was awful and James didn’t know how to fix it, didn’t know if Tony wanted to try and fix it, or if there was even something to try and fix–

–James was right back to not knowing anything at all except his name. 

My name is James and he wanted to know so much more than that.

Awful. 

“You asked if I watch the news.” he tried to break the silence when he just couldn’t take it anymore. “The other day, I mean. A few days ago. Before the Expo. You asked if I ever saw you on the news?” 

“Yeah.” Tony looked up only briefly and went back to fine tuning the input of the arm.  

“Sometimes the uh– the counselor that came to the shelter would sit and watch with me.” James cleared his throat, discouraged by the lack of response.  “I couldn’t ever watch the news, it about killed me to see some of that stuff but Sam said most of our memories are locked into references and not– not concrete ideas. So maybe TV would help bring some of them around.” 

“Sam Wilson.” Tony stated. “Pep’s mentioned him a few times, says he does good work. Did watching TV help with your memories.” 

“No.” James dug his fingers into his thigh to combat the flush of failure at the back of his neck. “No it never did. Only confused me. Would watch game shows or documentaries and it wouldn’t be right. The name of countries, you know? I would see a map or something and think I knew it, then my answer would be wrong.” 

Tony cocked his head, the first real sign of interest he’d shown all day. “Huh. Can you give me an example?” 

“Well there’s–” James hesitated, searching his memory for one that had stood out with Sam. “–There’s a whole lotta places where the Soviet Union used to be. Names I don’t know and cities that used to be called something else.” 

“Soviet Union.” Tony readjusted one more thing on the arm, then turned to face James fully. “What did Sam say about that? Anything?” 

“He told me it could be something as easy as me havin’ watched a history movie or reading a book before my accident and those are the names that stuck with me afterwards.” James’s heart picked up when Tony smiled a little. Was it possible to miss a smile after a few days? “That never sounded right to me, though.” 

“The Soviet Union collapsed in December of 1991.” Tony folded his arms and leaned back against the table. “I remember that entire month vividly. If you know for certain you remember it being the U.S.S.R, then you were at least high school age studying geography before it fell. Interesting.” 

James wasn’t following Tony’s thought process at all but he was so happy the beautiful genius was talking to him again, he didn’t even care. “Why is that interesting?” 

“Based on that fact alone, I’d suggest you were pushing thirty which means we could narrow down search parameters and maybe get a better lead on who you are.” Tony explained, his smile growing just a little bit more. “There’s other ways to figure it out too, but nothing easy or very concrete.” 

James made a ‘go on’ motion and Tony scratched through his goatee as he thought it out. 

“Well, I could run some tests if you’d like, but seeing as how we’re only barely managing getting the arm on in a La-Z-boy recliner cos the other chair upset you, I bet you don’t want me poking and prodding with needles and electrodes. Totally fine by the way.” he waved off James’s objection. “I don’t like it either. It’s fine. No tests, we don’t need to do that.” 

“The easiest way to find you in the system is fingerprints.” he continued. “But I ran your fingerprints the first time you came through the lab as a precaution– don’t look like that, I do it to everyone– and yours aren’t in the system, or at least not anything recognizable. Not a big deal, fingerprinting tech is still fairly new, it wasn’t an electronic database till the 1980’s and AFIS wasn’t halfway usable till about 2000. There’s a thousand reasons why you wouldn’t be in there, even with your military service.” 

“Fingerprints.” James looked down at his hand curiously. “What else?”

“We could always do DNA testing, but I wouldn’t do it without your permission. I know some people that track you down quick but DNA testing always seems a little… invasive.” Tony tapped at the reactor casing a few times. “I’m not a fan of anything invasive. And you know, finding results would hinge solely on the idea that your DNA is already registered somewhere and if your fingerprints don’t come up…” 

He let the sentence trail and shrugged. “If you really want a definitive answer of who you are beyond a guess at your age based on when the Soviet fell, I’m happy to try. There isn’t a whole lot I can’t find out once I start getting nosy, but I figured if you wanted to know, you’d ask.” 

Tony waited a beat, “Do you want to know?” 

No. 

I don’t know. 

What sort of man dreams the things I do? 

“I’m okay with just James for now.” is what James said instead of everything else burning on his tongue. “Maybe the memories will come back on their own.” 

Tony nodded absentmindedly and turned back to the prosthesis, so James took his slightly raw feelings and tried to distract himself by picking up a nearby photo book. All the what-if’s of who he had been were colliding with all the what if’s from the Expo and circling round in his mind, round and round until he actually felt a little nauseous, so he cleared his throat and forced the thoughts away and flipped idly through the photos. 

The pictures were at least twenty years old, snap shot after snap shot of a young Tony draped all over a younger James Rhodes, laughing hysterically at a joke between them, clearly wearing each other’s clothes and other costume pieces, a picture of Tony dead asleep on thick text books while Rhodey drew various genitalia on his face in marker. 

Some of the photos were dated and placed at MIT, others were at what looked like the Colonel’s home, his family scattered in the background of their antics. Only one was a formal picture, Tony and Rhodey in fit suits standing solemn at the top of the stairs but in the very next frame the boys were wrestling and pulling at each others hair and then in a third picture mid-tumble down the stairs while a woman who looked remarkably like Tony threw her hands up in clear exasperation. 

It was years of friendship, years of happiness and pranks and love and James found himself smiling as young Tony’s hair got higher and fluffier style changes, the clothes got more and more ridiculous, even the cap and gown graduation picture complete with fake mustaches and crossed eyes for the portrait. 

There were pictures of vacation– Tony in hilariously printed swim trunks, a floaty around his waist and over sized goggles on his face, Tony tripping over the flippers and face planting into the pool, Tony looking slightly drowned rat-ish as he struggled back onto dry land–

“Wow.” James didn’t mean to say anything out loud but the next picture of Colonel Rhodes didn’t match the silly theme of the book at all. It was an artistic shot, all pretty angles and purposeful shadows, a whole lot of skin and muscles on display and while it wasn’t obvious if Rhodey was actually sleeping or just posing, it was clearly obvious that whoever took the picture had had only one thought in mind. 

Sexy. 

“Didn’t realize the Colonel was so good lookin’.” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud either and after the Expo, James should have made a better effort to not blurt things out in front of Tony, but it was too late now, the words were out there and Tony was staring at him in surprise. 

“What’d you say?” 

“The– the Colonel.” James put the book down and swallowed, looking away from it and from Tony. “He’s damn good looking. You and he ah– you’re real close?” 

“Rhodey is my best friend, and yes he’s a total hottie.” Tony carried the re-adjusted arm back to James and set it aside to pick up the book too, flipping through the pictures and chuckling when he got to the shirtless one. “Oh man, he hates this picture. I tried for days to convince him to submit a photo to some ‘hotties of spring break’ calendar and he refused, so I got him blasted on tequila and then took the shot while he was passed out snoring.” 

“That–” James hesitated. “That seems creepy, Tony.” 

“Yeah, in retrospect, one of the creepiest things ever but eh, what’s a little creep-on between besties?” Tony’s laugh was fond and maybe even a little melancholy as he set the book down again. “I labeled the picture as ‘Honeybear in the Near Nude’ and I really thought he was gonna kill me. Really did. Actually feared for my life the rest of that semester.” 

“…That was the last spring break we had together before graduation.” Tony added after a minute. “Maybe the best week of my life.” 

“Did he win–” Bucky stopped when an alarm chimed somewhere in the lab, and the first few lines of Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy started playing. “– I know this song. What is this?” 

“The Andrews Sisters.” Tony snapped his fingers and the music turned up a few notches. “How do you know it?” 

“How do you know it?” James returned, his mind spinning with lyrics he knew and a beat he knew and holy shit he’d definitely danced to this before, suddenly James knew he loved dancing. 

“It was my Auntie Peggy’s favorite song.” Tony took one of those nasty smoothies from Dum-E. “She taught me to dance to this kind of music and I set it as my alarm because it’s such an unusual sound these days that I couldn’t ever ignore it.” 

“I know this song.” James said again, and it was incredible to know something beyond how much pressure it took to snap a man’s collarbone and whether or not the walls were thick enough to stop a bullet. “I love this song.” 

“I don’t know if I love it– hold still, please.” Tony set the prosthesis up to James’s shoulder and notched it in with a few clicks. “–but it makes me think of Peggy, which makes me happy and means that I’m not as cranky when I have to drink this green stuff. How does the arm feel?” 

“Bout the same as last time.” James mouthed along with a few of the lines as the song played in the background. “Should I do the same sorta stuff to check it out?” 

“Yeah, touch your thumb to each finger and flex your wrist as you do.” Tony instructed around a mouthful of smoothie. “If we can get past that part this time around we’ll move on to something else.” 

“Sure.” James went through each motion as Tony directed, touching his finger tips together and rotating his wrist, unable to help a smile as the left hand responded perfectly to his every thought. “Feel great, Tony. This is amazing.” 

“Yeah yeah, I know.” Tony’s dark eyes were glowing with excitement, and James’s concentration faltered when Tony leaned in even closer and ran his hand up the metal limb. “All the things I’ve built, and bionic man never made it to my list. I can’t believe what I was missing out on.”

Tony tried to close his hand around the bicep of the left arm and scrunched his nose in delight when his fingers didn’t come anywhere even remotely close to touching. “Alright, you can’t actually pop the knuckles on this hand but make the motion anyway, holding each finger down with your thumb like you’re trying to crack the joint. It’s a weird gesture and not one that everyone can do but it will test the dexterity of the prosthesis as well as prove how well it connects to your mind.” 

James hummed along to the music as he followed the easy instruction, laughing in quiet disbelief when the new arm did everything he wanted. 

I have two hands again. 

I’m whole again. 

I’m me again.

“All that looks good, so what we’re going to do now is–” 

“Dance with me.” James interrupted and Tony stopped, mouth open. “C’mon there’s all sortsa things we can do to test this thing out but dancing would take care of most of them, right?” he glanced up at the speakers and then back down at Tony. “I love this song, Tony. Dance with me.” 

“You want to dance with me?” Tony’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, expression shuttering just like it had at the Expo. “James, I don’t think–” 

“I’ll go easy on you.” James tried for coaxing, for teasing, for anything besides fear of another rejection. He might not know a whole lot of anything these days but he knew this song and he knew he really really wanted another chance at whatever had almost happened at the Expo, and damn it Tony’s smile was so pretty he almost couldn’t stand it. 

He felt like him all the sudden, two hands and an easy smile and even though the sight of metal gleaming along his left side triggered warning bells somewhere deep in his subconscious, James ignored them for the sake of holding out his hand and curling his fingers hopefully. “Dance with me Tony.” 

Spend time with me when I feel human. 

“Promise not to step on your toes?” he offered almost desperately now– please please see me as me, I’m so close to me right now– but his heart sank when Tony stuttered, “Uh James listen. About– about the Expo and when we almost–I mean, that’s something we should talk about, right? Before you suggest anything like dancing?” 

“Never mind.” This time it was James pulled away, who cleared his throat and blanked his expression and let his words get clipped and a little frosty, unease and insecurity warring with a little bit of self loathing for being so fucking dumb to try and fail again. “Forget I asked.” 

“No wait–” 

“Tony, I don’t really want to hear all the reasons why you didn’t want to kiss me.” James could almost feel himself fading away, disappearing back behind the gates in his mind as the warning bells about the metal arm started to get loud again. “Or all the ways I was misreading everything I thought I saw. Guess I’m more outta practice with this than I thought I was and I don’t want you saying yes cos you feel bad for me or anything, just leave it be.” 

Silence, and James cleared his throat, tried not to let the misery and feeling of failure seep too far into his voice. “What else do I need to do to test this thing out?” 

“No, don’t change the subject, we should talk about this.” Tony scrubbed his hand over his mouth and closed his eyes. “Fuck me, I’m bad at this but I’ve been working on talking things out and trying to say what I mean instead of being sarcastic all the time so here we go. James, about what happened at the Expo–” 

“Tony don’t.” 

“–Do you think Rhodey is hot or not?” Tony burst out and James’s mouth fell open. “Do you?” 

“…He’s a good lookin’ fella, sure.” 

“Okay.” Tony nodded a few times. “Okay, because I think he’s hot too but it’s taken me twenty five years to be able to say that out loud. You know what I mean?” 

“I–” James hesitated. “No. Sorry. I don’t know what you mean.”  

“It means I’ve been pretending for twenty five years that I don’t notice anything remotely attractive about Rhodey and this is the first time in my life I’m not lying about it.” Tony’s eyes were wide, a streak of red painted high on his cheeks. “My Dad was flat out against anything like that and I don’t know if my Ma knew or not, but it’s been twenty five years and I’m just now comfortable saying it.” 

“…okay?” 

“And then you went and almost kissed me at the Expo and it all sort of–” Tony made a crazy motion with his hands. “– I didn’t handle it very well and I’m sorry, but it wasn’t you, it was me and my Dad’s voice right here–” a finger to his temple. “–saying a whole lot of things. You get it?” 

James wet his lips and clenched his fists and Tony kept staring, kept hoping James understood even a little bit. 

“Twenty five years.” he repeated, chewing at the inside of his cheek and pressing his palm to the reactor to ease the anxious balling up inside. “And it sucks that I made it to over forty before I managed to stop listening to all that crap about who I am and who I’m supposed to be attracted to, but it is what it is. I promise you’re not reading anything wrong on my end, but I’ve never been brave enough to do this before so I gotta know– am I reading it all wrong on your end?” 

And after a quiet, shaky breath, “Do you hear all that shit in your head saying this is wrong too, or is it just me that’s a ball of goddamn conflicted?” 

“Goddamn conflicted.” James repeated, and his mind went back who knows how many years ago to all the things he used to hear when he tried to hide, when he went to church in secret and tried to confess, when he gave in a few times and quit pretending to be just like the other fellas. 

C’mon now, you know better than to think like that. We like dames, don’t we? Stop starin’. 

The Good Book wholly condemns those who engage in perversion, James. Ask for forgiveness and move on from such sin. 

Look, what we do here at night is one thing, but don’t go talkin’ bout it in the day time, I’m not a queer, you just got a pretty mouth. 

Stay away from that side of town, don’t you know that’s where the fags go?

Tony was asking for understanding and for another chance, for forgiveness because of his reaction and offering an explanation that sounded an awful lot like what James heard in his head every time he thought about how beautiful Tony was.

“I’m so bad at this.” 

James must have been quiet too long, because Tony muttered a curse and sat back in his own chair. “Shit. I am so damn bad at this. You know what, maybe we should call it a day and try again tomorrow, I’m clearly not up to dancing or working or putting together sentences or making any fucking sense so–” 

“Tony.” James made up his mind and held out his hand again, eyes hopeful and voice as soft as he could make it. “I love this song. Dance with me?” 

“Okay.” Tony’s fingers shook just a little as he placed them in James’s palm. “I love this song too.” 

*****************

*****************

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy wasn’t a slow song by any means, and Tony was several years past his last dance lesson with Peggy, but after a few mis steps and playful arguments about who exactly was going to lead, James finally flexed his left arm and lifted Tony right off the ground to announce, “If you can lift me up, you’re welcome to lead, Tony.” and Tony laughed in surprise and kept right on laughing as JARVIS started the song over and James took him out between the desks for a dance. 

“You’re doing it wrong.” James chuckled and dragged Tony forward into the right steps, left hand secure at Tony’s hip and right hand clasped around Tony’s fingers lightly. “Come on, it’s swing not a waltz. Loosen up for me.” 

“You don’t remember your own last name but somehow you remember how to swing dance?” Tony was out of breath already, but game to try and keep up step for step, easing his body towards pliant so James could lead them through the familiar patterns. “How’d you get so good at this anyway?” 

“I know this song.” James repeated, concentrating on the give of Tony’s waist soft beneath the hard fingers and not on the headache coming along with thoughts of dancing and maybe even watching the Andrews sisters up on stage as they sang the song which– that didn’t make sense because the song was seventy something years old at this point wasn’t it? No way he saw them perform. 

“I just know it.” he decided, and then teasing, “Or maybe I’m just a better dancer than you.” 

“I could ballroom dance your socks off.” Tony announced, and barked a startled laugh when James spun him out into a quick twirl. “I didn’t take six years of lessons with Madame Laurent for nothing. Swing dancing just isn’t exactly my forte.” 

“Well next time I give you a lesson, make sure you’re wearin’ a twirly skirt so I can get ya above my head and take a peek, huh?” James grinned, and there his voice went slipping soft and flirty and so damn Brooklyn Tony stumbled and nearly fell when his heart jolted in his chest. 

Twenty five years it took to even admit out loud that Rhodey was a damn hottie and now Tony was faced with a soldier right out of his musical-themed day dreams who could dance and smile and talked like all his favorite characters from movies he’d watched enough times to ruin the tapes. 

Twenty five years to admit something as dumb as his best friend being attractive and now James was laughing with him and teasing and the mis-step at the Expo seemed ages ago, almost impossible with the way the soldier’s pale eyes were lit up right now and the way James’s fingers held just a little tighter at Tony’s waist and pulled him in close through a turn and ohhhh their bodies brushed together and Tony closed his eyes when a bolt of heat went straight to his core. 

Was he so touch starved and miserably horny that a silly dance to his Auntie’s ancient music was going to get him hard? 

Another turn and another touch and James’s hand slipped lower along Tony’s waist and he nearly passed out. 

Yep. Yep he really was that touch starved and miserably horny. 

Except not really miserable. Tony was having the most fun in the world dodging lab tables and chairs as James got more confident with his steps and JARVIS kept the song playing around them. A few banged ankles and stepped on toes were worth feeling the heat pouring off James’s chest, the steel like security of the left arm contrasted with the drugging warmth of the right hand when James cupped the back of Tony’s head to hold him steady through a quick turn and two step. 

The music went on, the dance got easier, and then their legs tangled almost to the point of catastrophe and James caught Tony laughing as they crashed together–

–and Tony bit his tongue to quiet a moan when he felt James’s body reacting against his own. 

“J-James?” 

“Tony.” This time James knew he wasn’t reading anything wrong, this time he wasn’t going to second guess himself and this time Tony was definitely leaning in and standing on his toes–

“Shit!” James jerked away at the last second, jerked away and recoiled when everything seized along his left side and lit up painful, sparks popping behind his eyes. “Ow! Tony help!” 

“Damn it, come here and sit down so I can get it off.” Moment temporarily stalled, Tony slid right back into inventor mode and pushed James down onto the closest chair so he could get to work disconnecting the new arm. “I don’t know what’s going on with this thing, I really thought I could just connect it to your shoulder but I might have to go a little deeper into your chest to fix it, maybe even do something with adjustable plates since this piece doesn’t really move, then everything could re calibrate individually as needed….” 

Tony trailed off into mumbling as James lay back and tried to breathe through the pain shooting across his chest. Everything on his left side felt like it was on fire, like it used to those first few months after waking up beneath that bridge, phantom weight dragging his shoulder down and the feeling of needles in his skin. 

It hurt and he growled a rough curse when Tony pushed at his shoulder experimentally. 

“Sorry.” Tony said immediately. “Sorry about that. I can fix this, I definitely can. JARVIS run some simulations on using individual pieces instead of one solid on like the armor– the arm. Not long lines like muscles but horizontal plates instead. A hundred small calculations to adjust as he moves, not three or four major ones.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“One two three, off.” Tony pulled the arm off and hurried it back to the fabrication station so JARVIS could take the appropriate scans and start working on the changes. “Okay, you still with me? James?” 

A bottle of water pressed into James’s hand, and Tony hesitated before resting his palms on James’s thighs. “Feeling okay?” 

“Feeling like shit for ruining our dance.” James grit out, honest because there was no reason to lie to Tony, no reason to hide his disappointment when he knew Tony had been having just as much as him. “Sorry about that.” 

“Rescheduled doesn’t mean ruined.” Tony said the words lightly but his heart was in his throat, waiting to see if James would acknowledge the clear invitation. “Right?” 

“Right.” The corner of James’s mouth crooked up into a smile. “Rescheduled.” 

A smile meant good things, the invitation to another dance meant lots of very good things so Tony gathered every bit of his courage, every bit of determination he had about completing his bucket list, all the hope he’d gotten every time James smiled at him or flirted a little and all the butterflies in his stomach from their dance and said softly, so softly,–

“James, I– I’d like to take you to bed.” 

And James’s eyes opened wide and incredulous, “…what?!” 

Chapter Text

“I’d like to take you to bed.” Tony said it just as quiet as he had the first time, staring down at where his fingers were splayed over James’s leg. “Or I’d like to let you take me to bed, whichever of those things sounds better to you.” 

“Are you serious?” James couldn’t scarcely believe it, eyes wide and mouth moving in a fruitless attempt at words. “Why?” 

“Why?” Tony’s eyes darted over James’s frame, down to his thigh and then up across his shoulders and finally to his eyes. “I feel like that’s sort of obvious.” 

No, it wasn’t obvious. James couldn’t imagine why anyone would ever want to see him like…like that, but especially not someone like Tony. God, he was half hard just hearing the words, just thinking about Tony, but he didn’t dare hope… 

“Didn’t you say it took you twenty five years to–” 

“–to even admit Rhodey is a fox, yeah.” Tony nodded. “Yeah it did. But it only took like three days to figure this out so if you’re up for it– and that was an unintended double entendre by the way– if you’re up for it, I’d like to take you to bed. Or the other thing, the uh– the other way around. Whichever.”

James was stunned silent and Tony leaned away to rub sweaty palms down his own jeans. “I don’t mean right this second, or even this week. I suppose that sort of thing takes some…preparing… but if you’re interested? Maybe soon?” 

“Um.” James swallowed, then swallowed again, his throat clicking desert dry and suddenly parched. “Yeah. Yeah, Tony. Let me know.” 

“I…will.” Tony did one of those half smiles that James could never quite read, and changed the subject as if they hadn’t just been discussing James helping him pop the proverbial cherry. “So uh, listen. What I’m going to have J do is modify the arm to accept smaller plates that can adjust and calibrate with every movement so we can avoid anything freezing up. Theoretically the smaller parts could still stick or malfunction but the limb would remain mostly functional until we can get it off and readjusted instead of locking up all the way and hurting, okay?”

“…okay.”

“These aren’t needles or anything.” Tony was talking fast as he held up electrodes and small grounding pads, working to get past the proposition and back to something more normal. “I’m going to set these on your right arm and have you do a series of exercises so J can calibrate your strength, then we’ll transfer it over to the prosthesis and dial it up just a bit to counteract the additional weight. That way your arms are of equal strength and you wont have to strut anymore.” 

“Strut?” James asked faintly, still too stuck on Tony wanting to take him to bed to pay much attention. “I strut?” 

“To be honest it’s more of a murdery stomping thing.” Tony grinned. “Your left side is so heavy cos of the hardware that you end up walking side to side like you’re on your way to kill someone. Don’t get me wrong it’s sort of a turn on, but I thought you’d like to walk more balanced, blend in a little better.” 

“A turn on.” James certainly caught that. “You like how I walk?” 

“I said what I said.” Tony tried hard not to blush when James’s eyes lit warm and interested. Sure, he’d expected it to be a little awkward after he announced intentions of sex with his new roomate/ wounded ex soldier that was sort of his last good deed before kicking the bucket, but he hadn’t expected James to be acting so… on board?… with it all. 

It almost made him feel shy, shy and young and honestly ridiculous and Tony tried like hell to ignore it so he could still work. 

He could handle twenty five minutes of arm calibration and small talk with James without running away. 

What was an awkward proposition between friends after a couple decades of internalized homophobia and closet status repression, right? 

He could do this.

“So this is the world’s toughest stress ball.” Tony handed James a sphere a size bigger than his palm. “The material is super dense so you might not be able to compress it much and that’s fine. It’s specifically for physical therapy, specifically for measuring muscle recovery after trauma so squeeze at it as hard as you can for twenty second intervals. Give it your best shot and the electrodes on your arm will send all the information to JARVIS.” 

James obediently squeezed down, and Tony noted the impressive grip just briefly before clearing his throat and deciding to clear a few things up because the longer James was silent, the worse he felt about springing the conversation on the soldier. A ‘yes’ or even a ‘sure’ when caught off guard wasn’t really a real yes and Tony– god he didn’t want a halfway yes or a pity yes or anything like that.

Twenty five years of waiting? Damn it, he wanted the real thing. 

“Hey.” He bit at his lip a few times as he thought the words through. “About what I said earlier um– you– you can say no and there won’t be any hard feelings. Not gonna kick you out or take the arm away or whatever, alright? No harm no foul, it’s not going to change anything.” 

James didn’t answer, but the ball compressed to almost nothing in his palm before he remembered to release. 

“I think you’re gorgeous.” There it was, out in the open. “Sort of ridiculously gorgeous, actually. And I uh– I want you.” 

Fuck. Tony closed his eyes, then forced them back open. “I want you. And that’s the first time I’ve ever said that to another guy. Rhodey doesn’t count. So yeah, this is the first time I’ve said it and it feels like a big deal but maybe to you it’s not. Our dance was great and I’d love to do it again but I’d love to do the other thing too and it’s okay if you say no. It’s okay.” 

The words were pouring out now, Tony talking faster and faster as the shame and embarrassment caught up to him and made his breath catch. “If this is freaking you out like it’s starting to freak me out please just tell me to shut the hell up and we can finish this test and go watch a movie and go right back to normal and–” 

Tony’s voice faded to a soft rumble in James’s subconscious as the soldier tuned out the words and focused instead of Tony’s mouth, on soft red lips and the peek of tongue behind teeth and then up to Tony’s eyes the how insecure they were, almost scared and definitely embarrassed and that wasn’t right at all. No one half as pretty as Tony should ever look insecure and hell, this wasn’t the first time James had seen all that reflected in Tony’s eyes but it was the first time he knew he could do something about it. 

So he did. 

“–and I’m just saying, if you want to forget it then that’s okay too and mmph–!” 

Tony shut up when James shifted forward and kissed him, their noses bumping just a split second before their mouths met, the stress ball falling away forgotten and Tony’s apologetic back-pedaling cut off in a surprised gasp. 

“James, what–” 

“Nah, don’t pull away.” James hooked his fingers into Tony’s hair and brought him back. “C’mere and kiss me.” 

“J, Look Away Protocol!” Tony blurted before they were kissing again and this time Tony chased the embrace, leaning over far enough to balance at James’s leg and then up at his thigh and James sucked in a breath and groaned when Tony’s fingers dug into the thick muscle, knees falling open automatically to make room for Tony when the pretty brunette stood up and pressed closer. 

“Right here.” Oh yeah, James knew how to do this, how to trail down a lover’s back until they curled deeper into the kiss, to grip at a little waist and smooth over Tony’s hip before skating just lightly over the curve of his rear. God he missed his other hand, suddenly missed the new arm, wanted so desperately to grab onto that ridiculous butt with one hand and keep the other buried in Tony’s curls to drive the kiss deeper, wetter. “Right here, Tony. Come here.” 

He could make do with this– with dragging the blunt of his nails along Tony’s side, grasping at the give of Tony’s waist and palming over the rise of Tony’s ass until the beautiful brunette shuddered and fell into him a little further, parted his lips and let James in to taste. 

Tony mumbled something over the slide of James’s tongue along his own but it didn’t matter, whatever he wanted to say or whatever thought process he might have had was gone as James lifted up the back of his shirt to get to skin and callous rough fingers slid along the waist band of his pants. Tony immediately returned the favor, shoving his hands beneath James’s tank top and scratching lightly over the defined abs, moaning when heated skin flexed beneath his palms and covering James’s hummed reply into another kiss, wet and a little dirty and more intense than Tony had ever expected. 

The windows went dark behind them as the Look Away protocol finished locking down the lab and the onset of sudden shadows ramped up the moment to nearly unbearable as Tony traced the scars at James’s shoulder and muttered a hoarse, “God, you’re beautiful.” into the soldier’s ear. James didn’t hesitate to cover the reactor with his hand and whisper right back, the words easier than anything else, easy like endearments, easy like he’d been waiting to say them forever.  

“Not half as gorgeous as you are, Tony.” and this time when they kissed James slumped down in the chair and nudged an encouraging knee between Tony’s legs, muttering, “C’mon honey, I’ve got you. Won’t let you fall.” 

A split seconds hesitation– “Wait, I should–” Tony pulled away and started fumbling with his belt in the half dark. “Pants gotta come off at some point, right? Might as well be right now.” 

“Slow down.” James already missed the taste of Tony on his mouth and he reached out for him. “Slow down, Tony we got so much time, don’t need to rush.” 

I don’t have much time. “Sorta wanna rush.” Tony managed a short laugh and James started to protest again, started to insist they should go slow cos fuck just cos he somehow knew how to do all this didn’t mean he wasn’t overwhelmed and halfway to spilling in his pants just from the damn kiss. Tony was incredible, responsive and so so sweet and it was the first time since ‘my name is James’ that James felt human. 

He felt human and real and like his heart was going to burst out of his chest if the only person in the world who knew him didn’t get back in his arms now. 

“Tony.” Short and breathless as James worked at his own belt and shoved his pants down his thighs. He needed, he needed, he needed. “C’mere.” 

“Give me a sec–” 

“Tony, come here.” This time it cracked in the air like an order, like the snap of a whip and in the shadows Tony sucked in an audible breath. Shit. “No, I–” damn it. “Didn’t mean to snap at you. Didn’t mean to–” 

“No it’s fine, it’s no surprise to anyone that I have a military-giving-orders sort of kink.” There was Tony, slipping back into James’s space and right onto his lap half naked from the waist down and Jame’s brain short circuited right then and there. “Totally fine, please god order me around and please god–” 

Tony stuttered, fell forward onto James’s frame with a shocked sort of noise when skin met skin and their bare cocks rubbed together. “James.” 

“Easy.” James couldn’t draw a full breath, he was strangling needing to feel Tony against him, moving with him, moving on him and he couldn’t breathe as he dug bruises at Tony’s waist and prayed for self control. “S-Slow down, we’ve got time.” 

Relax. Reassure. He knew how to do this. 

“Fuck having time.” Tony’s breath was hot at James’s ear, his teeth sharp on the sensitive skin as he worried red marks down James’s throat, latched on and pulled over the soldier’s pulse until James shouted and the heavy cock throbbed against Tony, spilling wet from the tip and slicking the way enough for Tony to thrust against his stomach, once, twice, until they both saw stars. “I don’t– Jesus, James– I don’t want to go slow.”

They crashed together again, tongues tangling and teeth scraping and hands grabbing, hair knotting between greedy fingers, Tony rocking forward to rub the tip of his length into James’s flat abdomen, James bracing his feet on the floor and rolling his hips up to slot his cock into the cleft of Tony’s ass. The electrodes at his arm fell away when Tony gripped at his bicep and James flexed just to show off, he knew he was strong, he wanted Tony to know he was strong, he could do this, he could take care of Tony and fuck, he would be so thrilled to be able to take care of Tony, he would, he would. 

He knew how to do this, so when Tony handed over a tube of something slick, frame trembling and breath hitching to whisper, “I’ve never actually– I mean not this way–” James just nodded and drenched his fingers in the lube, way more than they needed cos he’d never take the chance of anything hurting. He rolled his hips so Tony ended up against his chest and felt down low for where Tony was tight and warm, easing around the puckered rim lightly and then with more purpose, gently and then with more intent until he could fit inside and Tony made a shocked, hoarse noise and automatically tried to rock back into him. 

“Easy easy.” James whispered, wishing to hell and back he had both hands so he could hold Tony right at his heart and soothe the nervous shaking. “Sweetheart, go slow, have mercy on a fella, I’m gonna lose it way before you do if you don’t settle down.” 

The endearment slipped out unintended but easy so James didn’t bother taking it back or apologizing. Besides, how could he be sorry when Tony practically purred over the word and went beautifully pliant and trusting as James worked another finger deep inside and tried to open the smaller brunette up carefully, so carefully and just as tender as he could be when his cock was aching, leaking, throbbing with each shift and wriggle of Tony’s hips. 

“You’ll hafta help.” James finally said when he thought Tony was ready, when three fingers fit into Tony’s core and his rim was sloppy wet and loose. “Gotta help me, Tony. I’ll hold you steady but you gotta get on me, okay?” 

Tony nodded wordlessly and reached back to close his palm around James, stroking with slick fingers once, twice and then James hissed out, “Tony, I won’t last—” and Tony grasped the thick cock steady and lowered himself inch by inch onto the fat head, groaning at the first push inside and then slow slow slow with minute little movements until James was clear inside and Tony was so full he didn’t know whether to shout in sheer pleasure or close his eyes and sob. 

Overwhelming. 

James let go for a minute, only a minute when Tony sat flush to his lap again, right hand grabbing onto the bottom of the chair and squeezing down as hard as he could as he fought for sanity. “Tony–” His head snapped back, mouth falling open as he gasped for air. “Oh Christ you feel good, feel so good on me oh my god.” 

Tony hid his face in James’s shoulder and tried to get his breathing under control, his core clenching around the thick length and thighs shaking with the effort of holding still until he stopped feeling impaled and the burn low in his center melted towards only pleasure. Then it was just a tentative roll of his hips, barely a movement at all but James murmured a curse that could have been a prayer for all the reverence in his voice as he breathed Tony’s name. 

“Kiss me.” James rasped, ordered, and when Tony kissed him just lightly, James immediately pushed it for more, shoving his tongue into Tony’s mouth and thrusting in a clear imitation of what he wanted to be doing lower but oh oh oh he would wait until Tony was ready, he could wait until the drugging slide of Tony’s body over his cock and quiet pleas of yes and more slid into into rough strokes and loud demands of faster and harder. James knew this, knew he wanted Tony’s mouth against his own and knew he wanted to sip every sweet cry from those lips. James wanted to steal every little sound and gasp Tony made and he wanted to lick the sweat at the sharp jawline and down at the pulse throbbing in Tony’s neck and he wanted to touch Tony everywhere but he settled for memorizing Tony’s taste as the kiss went on and on and on. 

Drowning. 

“James.” Tony kept one hand on James’s torso so he could feel every ripple and shift of muscle, the other in the longish hair as leverage as he dug his toes into the floor and worked himself up off of James’s cock and then back on, stuttering and stammering as his body stretched and core shivered. His own cock bobbed between their bodies, forgotten in the chase of the shocking intimacy of the moment and Tony would have been content to just ride, to just rise and fall like this for hours if his stomach wasn’t already clenching with need, the head of his cock red and swollen smearing pre-come in thin streaks. “James, touch me–” 

“Yes.” James’s answer was damn near a growl, and Tony’s hips jerked forward at that first stroke, the soldiers grip solid and hot and wet and perfect for driving into, fucking his cock into perfect pressure and sitting back onto James harder than he had before, hurried and deep and Tony’s vision went white when James shoved up into him and everything slid just right. 

They were both sweating now, shirts drenched and Tony’s ass making a slick, slapping sound every time it bounced off James’s thighs and it was overwhelming, they were drowning, everything was dark and hazy, the glow of the reactor reflecting off the blue of James’s eyes and gold flecks in Tony’s gaze catching the shuttered lights in the corner. James didn’t want to look away, he couldn’t look away so when he didn’t think he could even another second, he grabbed Tony’s jaw and sealed their mouths together, smothered his shout of release into a brutal kiss as his cock throbbed and pulsed, spilling and pouring inside Tony until the smaller brunette cried out, shuddered as his core clenched tight, reached down to feel James leaking out on his fingers. 

Oxygen. “Tony.” The big soldier tore away from the kiss to suck in a ragged breath, pushed his forehead into Tony’s shoulder and shook through another body racking tremor. “Fuck, Tony– I couldn’t wait– couldn’t–you’re incredible–” 

Tony tried to shake his head, tried to tell James that it was okay, that he was just as carried away and nearly just as lost, but the words didn’t matter. 

With James panting sweet words in his hear, with the security of knowing that he didn’t have to hide anymore, Tony closed his eyes–

–and let himself go. 

**************

**************

JARVIS didn’t cancel the Look Away protocol until first James and then Tony had gotten redressed. 

Both men looked at each other a little uncertainly until James said something quiet about going to get cleaned up and Tony agreed, motioning towards the back of the lab and telling the soldier he had a shower in there he’d probably use and that he’d see James before bed time. 

It was awkward at best– Tony who had only dared once to give in a tiny bit to what his heart wanted and was embarrassed and shy about being so open and wrecked, James who didn’t remember ever having actually done this sort of thing but already knowing that this time with Tony was the only one that would ever matter. 

It was awkward at best, or at least it was until James looked around and saw the windows unshading one by one and quickly pushed Tony in front of a still dark panel to lay a soft, achingly sweet kiss on his lips. 

Whatever was said was too quiet for even JARVIS’s systems to catch, but Tony was smiling when James turned and left so it couldn’t have been too bad. 

There were cameras in the bathroom, installed post Afghanistan in case Tony ever had trouble and needed help in and out of the shower, but as soon as JARVIS saw Tony get in beneath the water and immediately sit down and hug his knees to his chest, the cameras were turned off. 

No one needed to ever see Tony breaking down into relieved stunned tears after decades of denial and hiding and repression. Not Ms. Potts when she reviewed the footage every once in a while, not even Tony when he inevitably pulled up the scene with he and James to re-watch and remember. 

Besides, Tony was smiling when he came out of the shower, smiling and perhaps limping a tiny bit as he went to get another shake from the fridge so JARVIS stayed wisely silent. 

And on the table where the prosthesis arm was being calibrated to match James’s strength, the input from the electrodes and the stress ball kept feeding into the program, the numbers scaling higher and higher and higher, well beyond what a normal human could ever hope to attain, as far as four or five times what even the strongest men could hope to lift. 

The numbers just kept going up, but Tony was smiling as he went off to bed so JARVIS stayed silent. 

A puzzle for another day, perhaps. 

Chapter Text

The noise was deafening–over sized engines on undersized cars, screaming crowds and shouting reporters, cheering fans and a fever pitch of anticipation that vibrated in the air and clanged mercilessly against their ears even from behind the safety glass on the town car. 

Deafening and exhilarating and Tony’s eyes were wide, his entire being visibly thrumming with excitement, his smile stretched so thrilled that James ignored the apprehension at being stuck in such a big crowd and simply angled his body so he could stare at Tony staring at everything else.

Damn he was beautiful. 

“I love this.” Tony’s nails dug into the expensive leather upholstery of the Rolls and James’s eyes automatically dropped to the dimples in the fabric, the clench and unclench of Tony’s fingers, and then inevitably to the foot of space between Tony’s hand and his own. It was the same foot of space that had been present for the ride to the airport, for the journey overseas to Monaco, for the length of time it had taken to get from the airport to here up close and personal for the race, and it was a foot of space that was driving James insane. 

Leaving Tony in the lab the night before had been difficult enough but trying to keep some distance in front of Pepper for the better part of the day had been full on torture. The startling intimacy of Tony on his lap, Tony around him and on him had grounded James in a way therapy never had, having another soul sparking bright with pleasure alongside his own had been nearly spiritual, the first time he’d felt human and real and himself in months– years?– forever.

There had been none of the shame James thought he remembered from another blank time with an unknown face, none of the guilt he thought used to drive him to confession, none of the hurried and the hide and the only in the shadows that clamored in his head along with so many other dark things. 

Tony had been light and beauty and a glimpse at sanity and then the lab lights had come back on, the windows cleared and the moment was apparently over as Tony mumbled something about a shower and seeing James later and it had been almost awkward between them–

–until James had taken a chance and stepped close again to brush over kiss bruised lips and Tony had melted into him for just a minute more. 

Leaving Tony in the lab the night before had been difficult, and now there was distance between them and James couldn’t stop staring at Tony’s hands and fighting a smile as Tony hummed the chorus line to Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy under his breath for at least the sixth time in the past hour. 

“I love all of this.” Tony paused humming and jammed his sunglasses on as the car pulled to a stop at the steep stairs into the hotel. “James, you’re going to love this too, I promise.The crowd down here is really bad, but we’ll get through it quick and up on the balcony to watch the race from there. Won’t stress you out a bit, I guarantee it.” 

“You’ll have to excuse Tony.” Pepper cut into the chatter with a fond smile. “He gets around fast cars and he’s instantly six years old again. Couple years ago he bought one of these cars to race and it’s his favorite event of the year now.  Vroom vroom, right Tony?” 

“Vroom vroom.” Tony laughed at her, and James’s heart stuttered when Tony started to reach for his hand. “Come on, I’ll show you the–” 

–his hand fell away and Tony’s lips twisted in an apologetic grimace and James didn’t have any choice but to nod that he understood, he got it, it wasn’t them in the lab anymore it was Tony in the spotlight and not the place for anything real. 

It was fine. 

James knew what it meant to hide so he nodded reassuringly and Tony went back to humming their song and it was just fine.

“How’s the arm?” Tony asked as they hurried up the steps to get away from the crush of people, the questions and pleas for interviews from the reporters and the rumble of engines. “Bothering you at all?” 

“Nah, feels about right.” James bent his left arm experimentally and flexed his fingers beneath the thick leather gloves. He couldn’t actually feel the limb beyond the weight at his shoulder and chest, but nothing hurt and more importantly than that, Tony smiled when he heard the news so James didn’t bother finishing the rest of his thought. 

Yes, the limb felt about right but this morning there’d been a split second where James had managed to enter the lab before Tony and he’d seen the numbers from the stress-ball test all over the holographic screens. Numbers, calculations and whatever a variable was, and they didn’t really mean anything in particular to James but they were bright red and blinking and set against lines of green and then black that looked like a chart of normal measurements. Normal measurements but his numbers were high and blinking and red and James– James didn’t really know what it all meant but nothing about blinking red numbers was ever good. 

Before he could even put together the right question to ask JARVIS about the numbers, Tony had come through the doors though and the screens reset in an instant, replaced by the regular Roadster screensaver as the AI calmly greeted them. 

If James didn’t know better, he’d think JARVIS was purposefully not showing Tony the numbers, but that didn’t make any sense. Wasn’t it important to know if the rates were too high, if the calculations were off, or if they needed to redo a test or a calibration? What if something was wrong with him? 

….what if something else was wrong with him? 

“Hey.” Tony’s hand was there and gone at James’s back, pulling him back to the present moment. “With me?” 

“With you.” James said automatically, and searched back through his thoughts to find the tail end of the conversation. “Oh, everything on the arm feels good so far. Yeah, everything’s fine.” 

“I still think I’m going to redo it with the smaller plates.” Tony ducked around a rather persistent reporter and hurried through the huge double doors into the foyer. “But this one will do for now. Do you remember where the disconnects are if it clutches up like it did yesterday?” 

“Here.” James touched the hidden latch inside of his left elbow briefly, then the top of his shoulder. “Two buttons, right? Press and release?” 

“Right, just in case something seizes up and I’m not around at the minute to help.” Tony waved to someone in the crowd. “I designed it to deactivate and pretty much fall off on command, but if the connectors stick, just yank on it. We’ll get your shirt sleeve pinned up, Happy can keep the arm in the car for safekeeping and we’ll try again back at home.” 

“Sure thing, Tony.” James bumped close enough to brush his fingers at Tony’s side simply because he couldn’t help himself. “Thank you.” 

The tips of Tony’s ears turned pink, but any chance he had at a reply was cut off when another reporter shoved a microphone in his face and blurted something about the Senate meetings, about his legendary recklessness, about the big brunette close to his side— was this a new body guard or just the newest nameless person to fall into bed with him? How did Ms. Potts feel about it? Weren’t they an item? What did Tony think about the rumours of his mental instability and inevitable step down from Stark Industries? Would he care to comment? Anything at all?

…James didn’t have exact memories about snapping someone’s neck but right then his hands practically itched with the need to break the bastard in half. Couldn’t Tony just walk into a place with out being accosted? Couldn’t they see the stress in his eyes? The slight tremor in his hand when he touched at the glow of the arc reactor? Didn’t they care that Tony hardly ever smiled and throwing questions in his face was a sure way to erase any lingering happiness? Tony had gone from lightly blushing and bumping against James as they walked to ramrod stiff and almost brittle, from humming their song to dropping his sunglasses down and flattening his mouth into a near grimace.

No, James didn’t remember ever snapping someone’s neck but watching the man he— watching the man he— watching Tony be practically assaulted via microphone and obnoxious questions made James see crystal clear red, made a run of horrifyingly precise information skitter through his mind. 

Pounds of pressure per inch. Time for bone to turn to dust beneath his fingers. The unnatural angle of forced bones and the glaze of unseeing eyes. Ways to dispose of the body.

Information information information click click click terminate. 

“Back. Off.” James growled the words, nearly snarled the words, let his eyes slide murderous and shoulders square dangerous and the reporter squeaked something terrified before scuttling off to bother someone else. 

It took a few seconds for the anger to fade and for James’s heart to stop pounding, and when his vision settled and his brain stopped clicking into place click click click scenarios that felt like memories and nightmares, both Tony and Pepper were staring at him. 

“….what?” Belatedly, James realized both his fists were clenched, his mouth still turned down into a scowl and he counted up a few numbers— adin dva tri chetrye no no that was Russian, one two three four— until he was breathing evenly again. “Tony?”

“Oh nothing.” Tony‘s throat jerked as he swallowed but his smile was three shades past secretly pleased. “How long did you practice that murder glare before people passed out from fright when they saw it? It’s impressive.”

“I shouldn’t have done that.” James’s chest tightened uncomfortable. “Snapped at a reporter like that. Shit. Sorry Tony—“

“No no.” Tony held up a hand, shifted a half step forward like he was going to place it on James’s arm but stopped at the last second. “No that was— that was amazing. No one except for Pepper ever tries to keep the press away and she’s not half as scary as you. Thank you.”

James glanced at Pepper then reached over Tony’s head to hold the door open. “Well I’ll murder glare at whoever you want, Tony. You just let me know.” 

He nodded at Pepper as she passed by him, and she cut a meaningful glance at Tony and mouthed, “Thank you.” 

James didn’t think he could reply my pleasure without either sounding foolish or breaking into another growl, so he just nodded again and followed the pair into the dining area of the hotel.

It was less crowded in here but no less chaotic, and James hung back a step from Tony and Pepper so he could try and catalogue everything, gaze landing on each occupant before skittering away, checking the exits and the windows, the ornate chandelier and the mirrored bar surface along the back wall. 

Four entrances and exits— the foyer they had entered through, an overly tall set of double doors leading out to a balcony, one that led to stairs and down to the street and one marked Staff Only. Minimal wait staff in clearly conspicuous uniforms. Powerful men with pretty companions on their arm, intimidating women in tailored suits and sky high heels, a smattering of individuals at the smaller tables neither rich enough to dress up nor important enough to mingle at the bar. A few members of the press asking quiet questions and fake laughing with whichever self important interviewee was sat in front of them, a thin man in glasses that turned to stare when Tony walked in the door and currently hurrying towards them— Natalie.

“Mr. Stark, Ms. Potts.” Natalie greeted the couple, her bland expression not even flickering as she turned to James. “James. Welcome to Monaco. I have a table reserved over here—“

“I’d like to be in a corner.” Tony interrupted at the same time Pepper chimed in, “Tony prefers to be in a corner.” and Natalie didn’t skip a beat steering them towards a back corner table. 

“This can be us right here, then.” The redhead snapped her fingers and a couple waiters rushed forward to reset the table for four, and Tony took the chance to breathe a sigh of relief at the chance to sit down and re-group from the press bombardment before taking James out to watch the races.

He hated the press with a passion, thought the society pages reporters were some of the lowest life forms possible, who made a career out of hounding someone with questions and then spinning stories any which way they liked? The Stark family especially had never known a moments peace from the press and even though Tony had for many years willingly and enthusiastically contributed to the tabloid coverage of his various exploits, now he was just tired. He was just worn out. He wanted to watch the races with Pepper and James and cheer on their driver and spend some time in the sunshine without microphones or cameras or anyone pushing into his space to ask invasive questions like—

“A yoo-hoo! Anthony Stark!”

Tony had only just started to sit when the worlds most annoying voice cut into the conversation between Pep and Ms. Rushman, and he leaned over to tell James, “Unleash the Murder glare anytime now. I’m begging you.” 

“Unleash the—“ James laughed softly and Tony had only a half second to appreciate the sound before Justin Hammer invaded their space, complete with requisite tag along and stereo typically terrible reporter Christine Everhart. 

“Tony Stark!” Justin clapped a too friendly hand onto Tony’s shoulder, smile stretched wide and tone manufactured fake. “My favorite person in the world! You know Christine Everhart right, works at Vanity Fair? She’s doing a big story on me.” 

“Oh?” Tony asked tightly, then under his breath and over his shoulder to James– “This is my least favorite person in the world.” James gave him one of those amused half smiles, took a step back away from the cloud of cologne hovering at Justin’s shoulders and Tony wished with every shred of his patience that he could do the same.

“Yep yep, you’re not the only rich guy with a fancy car around here!” Justin had a laugh that grated on even Pepper’s unflinching nerves. “BTW, Christine. Big story right here, don’t know if you heard yet. Ms. Potts is now CEO of Stark Industries! Imagine that! Answering phones one day and wearing power suits the next!” 

“I heard.” Christine turned a mega watt smile towards Pepper. “If you have a minute I’d really love to grab a quote for–” 

“Christine’s doing a big spread on me.” Justin interrupted, either ignoring or not caring that he’d cut the blond off mid sentence. “Figured I’d throw her a bone, help her out. Big name like mine is a story just waiting to happen, you know?” 

“Oh absolutely.” Pepper passed champagne from a waiter over to Tony and then back to James, arched a perfectly tweezed brow and commented, “She did quite the… spread… on Tony last year, did you know?” 

“Yep.” Tony took a too large gulp of champagne and smacked his lips. “Wrote a story on me too.” 

Behind them, he heard James choke on a swallow and Natalie smother what might have been a snort. Ms. Everhart turned pink to the roots of her bleached hair while Justin swiveled to look at her in confusion. “You uh– you did a story on Tony?” 

“Oh I think the word I used was spread.” As calm, collected and effortlessly cut throat as always, Pepper took another sip of the champagne and then turned to Natalie. “I have to go wash up, please see that our table is set?” 

“Yes, Ms. Potts.” Natalie chimed in and despite Tony’s attempts to snag Pepper’s shirt and keep her close, both women disappeared a second later leaving he and James depressingly alone with Justin and Ms. Everhart. 

“Oooh let’s take a picture!” Justin announced, and Tony only had a moment to cram his sunglasses on before he was squished uncomfortably close to the competing tech CEO, Justin grinning something about fromage or brie while Christine asked, “Is this the first time you two have seen each other since the Senate meetings?” 

“You mean since he had his contract with the DOD revoked?” Tony wrenched out of Justin’s hold and retreated a step, stopped only by James’s brief welcome touch at the small of his back. “Yeah, this is the first time. Are we done here?” 

“No no, now here’s the thing, my contract was only temporarily suspended and they said uh– they said– .” Justin laughed again and Tony grimaced irritably over the noise. He already wasn’t doing very well this morning, and Justin’s presence was not helping the issue. “They said once we get a few things figured out and all this hoopla with Stark calms down…” 

Justin kept talking but Tony tuned him out. He was already distracted with the Boogie Woogie song on repeat in his head and the soreness between his legs and the way every breath James took seemed over loud because kissing the soldier again was all Tony could think about. He was already mentally weary after crying in the shower even though it hadn’t been bad tears. He was already exhausted because even after a good day, even after dancing and admitting things, Tony hadn’t been able to manage a good nights sleep. 

And then first thing today when he’d met James in the lab to attach his new arm, JARVIS had asked him to check a few numbers, to spend a few minutes looking over some data but when Tony had asked if the numbers were necessary, J had sounded damn near human when he hesitated and answered that they simply weren’t worth stressing about. 

Another time perhaps, sir. The AI had replied and Tony had brushed it off in favor of smiling into James’s eyes and wishing they’d had time for a slow kiss before Pepper had come rushing into the lab to get them on a plane. 

Another time perhaps, but there hadn’t been time for anything Tony had wanted to do this morning and now he was stuck listening to Justin and Christine talk, stuck worrying that he should have checked whatever numbers JARVIS had saved for him, stuck trying not to give into a burble of hysterical laughter because his thighs hurt and he kept thinking about how he’d never ridden anything but a motorcycle and that hadn’t prepared him at all for last nights activities. 

Twenty five years of self loathing and repression and now he was singing 40’s songs and wondering if he would be half as sore if he’d ridden Rhodey’s motorcycle a few more times, and god help him that wasn’t a euphemism at all, and that made him want to giggle a little hysterically too. 

Tony missed the days of being sharp, of being on top of the moment and the changing dynamics, missed the days when he could react to Justin Hammer the same way Pepper did– with a cool smile and scathing retort instead of with a building migraine and the feeling of being goddamn trapped–

*beep beep*

“Well, this hadn’t been fun at all.” Tony cut in to their chatter and didn’t bother trying for a smile as he tapped at his watch. “And now I have to go so, let’s never do this again.” 

The steady poisoning was compromising his mind, his wit and Tony hated it but on the other hand, the look of shock on both Justin and Christine’s face at his rudeness was intensely satisfying. 

Not worth the palladium eating into his bones, though. 

He was gone, hurrying off to the bathroom to check his blood and waving off James’s quiet confused, “Tony?” because he wanted James in at least half a dozen ways but he didn’t want James to see the black at his chest and the numbers on the monitor. Tony didn’t want anyone to see those things nor did he want anyone to see just how close he was to a panic attack just from the effort of pretending. 

It was hard work being Tony Stark, harder work being the Tony Stark everyone thought he was and Tony was exhausted with it all. 

*beep beep*

“I’m going, I’m going.” Tony locked the door to the bathroom and turned the alarm off on his watch, dug the monitor out from his pocket and jammed it into the tip of his finger. 

He needed a distraction, a breather, a chance to reset after all the questions and a moment to figure out where his head was before he did or said something that would embarrass Pepper or draw too much attention to he and James– he wasn’t ready for those tabloid covers yet, no thanks– or inadvertently encourage Hammer’s particular brand of bullshit. 

Yeah, he needed a distraction, maybe he’d slip out the back and walk for a minute, that would be okay. He just needed to get his mind back on track and his heart back to a normal speed and–

44%

Chaos. 

Holy shit. That was almost halfway, that was almost halfway, here he was blushing over a round of sex while he was officially halfway dead, what the fuck–what the fuck was wrong with him– what the fuck–

Panic. 

Tony bent over the sink and pushed his head against the mirror, grasped at the cold porcelain with both hands and squeezed till his knuckles went white and his finger nails jammed uncomfortable against the tiles, sucking a too harsh, too loud breath as he struggled for control. 

44%. Was this the number J had wanted to warn him about this morning? This was the number not worth stressing over? The one that could wait till later, no no no this couldn’t have waited till later, he was halfway to dead and JARVIS had told him to stress about it later. 

“There won’t be a later, J.” Tony couldn’t breathe, his first real panic attack in weeks, throat closing and vision spotting, legs going weak and head spinning. “F–fuck– fuck—” 

He was drowning, sinking, falling to the floor with his heart pounding and chest aching behind the reactor and god could he feel the poison, could he feel it moving slugging in his veins, was a panic attack going to make it worse– shit shit shit this was so much worse—

“Tony!” The door to the bathroom snicked open then nearly slammed shut, and that didn’t seem right because Tony had locked it, he had locked it, hadn’t he?, aw hell was he really losing his mind? 

“Tony.” It was Natalie of all people, skidding across the floor in  her heels and dropping down to kneel by his side, turning Tony’s head this way and that and pressing at the dark marks on his neck that he’d only barely managed to hide with some make up this morning. “Damn it. Tony are you okay?” 

“No, not okay– freaking out–” It was right there to tell her why he was freaking out, but Tony grit his teeth and pushed at his chest and wheezed instead, tried for air, for oxygen. “Just need– need a minute– need–” 

“You’re having an anxiety attack.” Natalie was surprisingly strong, pushing Tony upright against the wall and he only groaned when she held him still with one hand and reached to turn cold water on with the other, wiping cool drops over his forehead. “I’m going to unbutton your shirt so you stop thinking you’re strangling, you’re going to put your hand right here–” she grabbed at his hand and placed it high on her thigh. “–because there isn’t a person alive that can think about panicking when they have the chance to feel me up. Squeeze, please.” 

“I–” That was pretty funny, and the fog in Tony’s head cleared just enough to register the words. “Uh– yeah, you have–you have very nice thighs.” 

“I really do.” Natalie undid the top few buttons of Tony’s shirt, and he was too worn out to tell her no, focusing all his concentration on how warm her leg was, warm and solid and she was real which was helpfully grounding and he squeezed hard when she murmured encouragement and shifted forward closer. “And don’t worry, I know Ms. Potts thinks I will be a very expensive sexual harassment suit, but I can promise you groping my thigh to come back from this sort of thing doesn’t count.” 

“… thank you.” Tony ground out. “ Don’t know how you got in here but–” 

“Don’t worry about that, focus on breathing and clearing your mind.” she shook her head. “Your hand must not be high enough up if you’re still thinking, huh?” 

“Didn’t expect you to joke about this sort of thing.” The next breath came easier, the presence of someone real doing far more to bring Tony out of a spiral than his own coping methods usually did. “About… groping.” 

“You’d be surprised the things I joke about.” Natalie’s full lips turned up into a quick smile, then pulled down into a frown. “What does 44% mean, Tony?” 

“It’s battery life on the arc reactor.” Apparently even compromised, Tony could tell a quick lie, but he screwed his eyes shut when the next breath came with a reminder that it wasn’t really a lie, it was sort of battery life but not life left, it was life used and it wasn’t the reactor that was running out of time, it was him. 

“What can I do to help you?” Natalie wanted to know, backing up and making room when Tony tried to stand. “What can I do? Would you like me to get Ms. Potts?” 

“God, no.” Tony made it to his feet, wavered and nearly collapsed and Natalie caught him with another show of surprising strength. “No uh– don’t tell Pepper. Don’t ever tell Pepper. James either.” 

And then with a half curious, half almost delirious look towards her, “You are super strong for someone who fits into a size two dress.” 

“Sizing me up, Mr. Stark?” Another one of those quick smiles and Tony swallowed back a groan of pain as he straightened and answered, “I’d say yes, but you’re remarkably difficult to get a read on.” 

“So I’ve heard.” Natalie waited until he was stable, then stepped away to give him some air. “How can I help?” 

“I uh–” Tony put the monitor back in his pocket and stuck his finger in his mouth to get rid of the drop of blood. “I need to get out of here. Out away from every one. Need to breathe.” 

“Alright then, let’s get out of here.” Natalie nodded just once, short and decisive. “Where do you want to be?” 

Tony’s head still hurt, and he took a moment to drop his face into his hands, to tug his fingers through his hair and almost whimper as spots popped behind his eyes. Damn these panic attacks. 

“Mr. Stark?” Natalie prodded gently. “What are you thinking, right now?” 

“I’m thinking–” Tony swallowed, tasted the bitter edge of fear on his tongue. “I’m thinking it’s time to check something else off my bucket list.” 

“Sure.” she said promptly. “How can I make that happen?” 

And Tony held onto his chest, weary and frightened and seeing 44% flash in front of his eyes, and managed a pained smile when he heard engines roar by outside the hotel walls. 

“…know what I’ve always wanted to do?” 

***************

Back inside the hotel, James was the only person who noticed Natalie re-entering the room. The redhead moved purposefully unobtrusively, drawing every eye with her figure and her clothing choices while simultaneously disappearing into the crowd of equally beautiful women in equally eye catching dresses. It was like she was invisible in a room full of people staring and it tickled uncomfortable at the back of James’s mind that he recognized her for who she was. 

Dangerous. 

The same moment he realized Natalie returning was the same moment James realized Tony hadn’t ever come back from the bathroom. He hadn’t been losing time much lately, not with Tony always around but it had been a while since James had been this uncomfortable in this crowded of a room and a glance at the clock proved Tony had been gone almost half an hour while James had been cataloguing and re-cataloguing the room, measuring and re-measuring potential threats, reading and re-reading every expression, every movement, every nuance of all the strangers. 

Half an hour Tony had been gone and now Natalie was back and staring at him, waiting until James tipped his head in a silent acknowledgment– I see you, imposter– before turning and looking pointedly at the closest TV monitor. 

James turned around to look just in time to hear Pepper gasp, “Oh no. No no no, what is happening? What is he doing?!” 

It was Tony on camera down at the race track, cheerfully announcing something about why he owned a car he’d never driven and how boring it seemed to just sit up stairs and watch when he could be living it. Tony suited up in racing gear and grabbing a helmet and climbing into the car and James whirled around to find Natalie again because she had to know something but the mysterious redhead was as unreadable as ever, stoic and unflinching as she met James’s gaze then turned to pick up her phone and make a call. 

“James!” Pepper cried and he snapped to attention. “Go get Happy! Get him now! I need him right away!” 

James was gone in a split second, shouldering through the crowd and ignoring the shocked gasps and outraged huffs when he bodily relocated anyone who got in his way. Happy was downstairs having a few drinks with an old acquaintance and it took James one-and-a-half minutes to get down the steps and through the hall to the smoking parlor, it took him no more than forty five seconds to clear his throat and jerk his head for Happy to follow him, just barley a few seconds to explain a rushed, “Tony went down to the track and wants to race and Pepper said to get you.” 

“Aw hell.” Happy threw back the rest of his drink and hustled after James, pushing through the outside door to get to the track and the growing crowd of spectators who were whistling and cheering Tony on as he revved the engine a few times. Pepper was up at the balcony screeching for Tony to cut it out and get back upstairs and so help me god if my hair goes gray after this—! And Happy ran an exasperated hand over his face and said, “You know, this isn’t even the dumbest thing Tony’s ever done? I gotta go calm Pep down, you comin’?” 

“I–” James planned on going back upstairs because there wasn’t anything he could do here from behind the twelve foot fence and he certainly didn’t want to sit in the bleachers surrounded by drunk, screaming fans. 

“I uh–” James planned on going back upstairs but he stopped, narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Nah, I’ll stay down here. Just in case.” 

“Sure, sure.” Happy clapped him on the shoulder and James only briefly registered the driver leaving, hollering up to Pepper that he was coming, that she needed to calm down. 

James didn’t even notice the people crowding in around him, pressing him closer the fence and pushing up into the bleachers. 

The soldier’s full attention was caught by a figure in orange walking just along the track, a man too sloppily groomed to be the professional staff hired for each of the drivers, the work suit ill fitting and hanging stiffly on his frame as if propped up by something underneath. The man chewed a tooth pick, walked idly along the track with no apparent destination in mind and by all accounts, he shouldn’t have stood out at all. 

But James felt danger pricking at the base of his spine and focusing his vision laser sharp, his left fist clenched and then unclenched, clenched and his fingers ground together as watched ever step the guy took. 

Natalie was dangerous but this stranger was something worse and he was staring right at Tony’s car as it tore away from the starting line with the rest and disappeared around the first corner of the track. 

The spectators tracked the race courtesy of helicopter footage broadcast on massive screens, but James kept his eyes on the man in orange. The crowd cheered and whooped as different cars made the hair pin turns and passed each other in near-dangerous maneuvers, but James edged his way up a few steps and then closer to the fence when the stranger jumped down into the pits and flashed a badge that gave him access to the track. 

The fans jostled each other in excitement as the first of the cars completed lap one, their engines roaring and wheels skidding around the bends and opening up on the straightaway–

–and it all happened in slow motion. 

The man in orange jumped onto the track and walked resolutely through the wildly swerving cars. Fire burned away the ill fitting suit and whips lashed at his hands, lightning rolling up the cords and sparking bright at his chest where a reactor an awful lot like Tony’s sat harnessed and alien against his skin. 

–it all happened in slow motion. 

First a car sliced neatly in half, the front end separating from the back like paper being torn away, the body sent flying and the driver inside helpless to do anything but pray. 

Then the stands rioting, emptying and stampeding as everyone ran for their lives, bumping into James in their haste, screaming as they were trampled, shouting over the noise of alarms over the loud speakers and sirens already on their way to the track to try and save the first driver. 

Tony’s car, skidding around the corner and heading right for the maniac. Too fast too stop, too late to swerve and James’s eyes opened wide, his mouth fell open in a roar of anger and disbelief when those whips cracked fire and tore Tony’s vehicle apart. 

– Up on the balcony Pepper screamed and screamed and Happy grabbed her, yanked her from the room and towards the waiting Rolls–

Tony was down, Tony was hurt and most likely trapped and there were still racers barreling down the road, skidding and fishtailing as they tried to avoid the stranger in their path, crashing and flipping and bursting into flames. 

Petrol stung James’s nose and petrol meant fire and fire meant explosions and all James could see was the bright fear in Tony’s eyes as those whips snapped and lightning popped–

–and James was up and over the fence before he knew what he was doing, scaling the twelve foot links and vaulting over the top, slamming down into the asphalt hard enough to dent it but not pausing to stop before he was off and running, feet pounding down the concrete faster and faster because the mad man was almost to Tony and there went the whipcord cutting into Tony’s car but Tony had somehow scrambled free and James leapt for him, leapt for Tony and shoved him out of the way a split second before the cord would have caught him and dragged him down. 

“James?!” Tony cried but James just shoved him again, again and again off the track and away from the danger and out of the path of the cars that kept right on coming to add to the carnage and the chaos. 

One step forward and then two, snap snap snap and the lightning sizzled into the road and James kept pushing Tony behind him, one hand out to stop the onslaught, the other on Tony to keep him moving and it was Tony that saw the dripping petrol and shouted “Roll!” so James jerked him away, threw Tony to the ground and covered him with his body when the world went red hot and blistering, deafening yellow for a few horrible seconds. 

Then Happy was there, slamming the car into the stranger and right into a chain link fence, but a chain link fence had give and had flexibility and it wouldn’t stop anything, it wouldn’t stop anything, James’s mind was moving a thousand miles a minute, scenarios and plans and neutralize neutralize neutralize he had to end this now, end it now soldier so he shoved Tony towards the car, yelling for him to get in but Tony was yelling for Pepper to give him a case and Pepper was screaming as Happy tried and failed to run the monster over and finally– 

“Get in the goddamn car or I will throw you in the goddamn car!” James ordered and Tony looked like maybe he would listen but then the door separated from its hinge, the car split down the middle when a whip charged back to life and parted the metal like it was nothing, like it was butter, like it was water and no protection at all. 

Pepper got Tony whatever the hell the case was and James had only a split second to register the odd tech climbing Tony’s body, only a split second to recognize the red and gold as the original color of his new arm and only a split second to see the near murderous determination in Tony’s eyes before the hiss and crack of another whip sounded in his ear. 

He reacted on pure instinct, whirling around with his left arm up and taking the brunt of lightning wrapped around his wrist and clear to his bicep. The electricity surged bright and painful through his body, through James’s nerve endings, singeing his hair and nearly stopping his heart as it burning the shirt sleeve away, burned the leather away and lashed charred marks up the beautiful silver. 

And James had a breath where he looked the fucker dead in the eye and growled, bared his teeth and snarled–

–then grabbed onto the lightning whip with his right hand and yanked, let his strength surge and ripped the cord up close, closed his hand into a fist and shattered the maniac’s face with one well placed punch. 

He went down like a ton of bricks, out like the proverbial light, the reactor in his chest flickering and spotting before powering down, the whips losing their glow and falling limp. 

James raised his foot to stomp on his face, thought for a moment about just reaching down and ripping the heart right out of his chest, but metallic fingers closed tight around his arm and a voice came from deep within a robot suddenly standing at James’s side. 

“It’s alright.” the robot intoned, and James blinked at it unsteadily. “James, it’s alright.” 

The face plate snapped open and James startled when Tony was looking back at him. “I’d say I’ll take it from here, but honestly you did all the hard stuff. Guess I’ll just talk to the press and monitor the clean up and quietly swoon about being rescued by a knight in at least partly shiny armor.” 

“…Tony!?”

In the background somewhere Pepper was screeching about how her body physically couldn’t handle the stress of being CEO, how Tony had tricked her into this terrible job and was it too much to ask to just have a vacation and Tony cracked a smile, nudged James gently gently with a robotic elbow. “I haven’t had a vacation in two years, and she’s complaining? This was a full blown assassination attempt and she gets to walk away with slightly frizzed out hair. Definitely over reacting.” 

“Tony.” James muttered. “What the fuck is going on?” 

“Yeah.” Tony kicked idly at the still limp form on the road, then looked up and around at the chaos surrounding them. “You and I uh– we should probably talk about a few things.” 

*****************

“Did you know Stark was dying?” 

“I was aware something was wrong, can you get away and give me a full report?”

“Not for a while, and to be honest I’m not even sure what I saw.” 

“Okay stand by, I might have something that can help. Pretty sure he’s poisoning himself and we’ve got a little something that should slow the process.” 

“Poisoning himself. Intentionally?” 

“Not real sure. It’s not unlike a Stark to have a death wish, but he seems more the type to go out in a blaze of glory instead of quietly suffering.” 

“Hm. “Where are we on the other situation?” 

“Radio silence until we are absolutely sure it is the same person and absolutely sure he won’t be a danger.” 

“Based on what I saw today on the race track, I think it’s safe to say all his instincts and skills are still present and fully functional.” 

“Does he appear aware of why he reacted that way?” 

“I’m still not sure. I almost think he was as surprised as the rest of us.” 

“Well find out quick. He may be a ghost, but if he’s going to be dangerous, I’ve still got ways to bust ‘em.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“And be careful, Romanov. He put a bullet through you once, I doubt he’d hesitate to do it again.” 

“Noted.” 

Chapter Text

47%

The admittedly self inflicted stress of racing in the Grand Prix, the unexpected near death experience by way of electrified whips and the resulting chaos had cost Tony three percent, his heart pounding and forcing the toxin through his vein faster than normal, the concentration of palladium in his blood getting higher every minute, every hour, every damn stressful unending day that he wasn’t sipping a beer in a hammock somewhere sunny and relaxing. 

The new suit used way too much power, far too much energy as it assembled around the wearer and Tony would have to work on that. The new suit was too slow, clicking and clacking into place and not as smoothly functioning as the single piece suits and Tony would have to work on that too. He couldn’t have Rhodey running around in a suit that took more than a single minute to assemble, no way would he leave the Colonel vulnerable for even that amount of time. But the suit had worked remarkably well for what Tony wanted to do with James’s arm and in that case he could take the tech and modify it so–

“Tony, are you with us?” 

Tony pulled his finger from his mouth with a pop and pressed lightly at the spot of blood from the monitor. There went his mind wandering again, his concentration waning again, ability to multi task stolen by the poison leeching into his brain and central nervous system. He needed to focus, needed to listen, needed to carry on a conversation with both Pepper and the head of Securities Commission for the Monaco Grand Prix because they were both rightfully confused and understandably angry and–

“Tony!” 

“I’m with you.” Tony turned from the monitor because the numbers were proving too distracting, turned away from the window because the clamoring crowds outside made his blood pressure sky rocket. “Yeah Pep, I’m listening.” 

It was obvious by Pepper’s tone that she knew full well Tony wasn’t in fact listening in the slightest, and Tony grimaced when he heard the tell tale sniff that meant he was already getting on her last nerve. 

Sorry, Pep.

“Now then, I can assure you that neither Stark Industries as a company nor myself or Mr. Stark as individuals had any idea that our presence here would bring a whip wielding maniac to the track. To be quite honest, you suggesting that we somehow invited this sort of trouble is the height of rudeness.” 

Pepper was a godsend when it came to dealing with… well, dealing with everything. Privately she was always ready to take Tony to task for his recklessness, but in public she was wholly supportive of Tony’s antics, of Stark Industries’ choices and more recently, of everything Iron Man did. She was amazing, and Tony tried not to smile so big when a torrent of irritated French from the head of security was met with an equally irritated retort from Pepper who had had quite enough of the insinuation that Iron Man had hoped for a baddie just for a chance to show off his new toys. 

“If I could butt in for a second?” Damn his chest hurt today, and Tony rubbed at it gingerly. “I just wanted to drive the fast car. Had no intention of inviting any sort of trouble. I just wanted to hear the engines go vroom vroom. Also I’d like to point out that I am here on vacation. I have my own personal bodyguard for my own personal issues. Maybe your security commission shouldn’t have let someone with a fake badge and a clear issue with authority close enough to slice and dice cars.” 

The man exploded on the other end of the line and Tony held the phone away from his ear so he didn’t have to listen anymore. 

It was a pointless conversation anyway, one that would go round and round and shift blame when no one was to blame. No one knew exactly what had happened out there on the road. The security commission had no idea who the intruder was and neither did Pepper and Tony. JARVIS had been closely monitoring any and all attempts to replicate either his armor or the arc reactor and the closest anyone had gotten to even moderately successful had been Justin Hammer’s disastrous experiments, so this had been completely unexpected.

The arc reactor Tony had torn from the guy’s chest was almost a perfect replica of the one above his own heart. The measured output of power was lower than Tony’s piece, but still impressive for a knock off. The harness and connected whips were a little ostentatious and villain-y for Tony’s taste, but he couldn’t really say that out loud when he was flying around in hot rod red and brilliant metallics, right? 

They didn’t even know the stranger’s name– he wasn’t talking, wasn’t making eye contact. Honestly could barely even breathe after the punch James had thrown and that was something else Tony had to think about but couldn’t think about without feeling like he might break down into hysterics– 

–had James really grabbed that whip with a bare hand, or had Tony been so heart eyed at having the soldier come to his rescue that he hadn’t been paying attention? 

“Tony, are you paying attention?”

No

“Yeah, Pep. I’m here.” The conversation turned to numbers of wounded and the devastating deaths of a few that served as collateral damage in the mad man’s rampage. Who was going to cover the six and seven figures worth of damage? What about the lost opportunities of drivers who had trained for years? What about the potential law suits from the spectators? The celebrities and dignitaries now furious with Monaco for allowing them to be put in so much danger? The damage to the Grand Prix’s reputation that took years to earn and was so quickly shattered in one reckless moment? They could be sure Stark Industries and any related personnel would be banned from the Grand Prix in the upcoming years if this was the mayhem they would bring to France!

And then Pepper with her rebuttal, somehow both soothing and cutting as she allowed the head of security to rant and rave and then effortlessly negated every point he made while laying down promises Stark Industries would have to write checks to uphold. 

Tony couldn’t focus on that, couldn’t even hardly follow the conversation. He spoke French fluently but he spoke Aostan French like his Mama had and it was far different than the stilted French being shouted over the phone now. Aostan French spoken in Maria’s lilting accent and bussed onto Tony’s cheek as a bambino along with a kiss and a promise in Italian of sweets as soon as Howard wasn’t looking so long as Tony was a good boy, sei un bravo ragazzo mio figlio, sei un bravo ragazzo e ti amo. 

Mama. 

Tony had been thinking about his parents a lot lately, had thought about them in Afghanistan when he had been so sure he would die, again when Obadiah had laughed in his face and tried to crush his head between the Iron Monger’s palms, again when the first of the palladium had bled black around his heart and Tony collapsed out of a suit and onto the floor sure he was having a heart attack. 

Maria had been warm and soft, Howard bitter and sharp edged, Maria combing her hair in the mirror and letting Tony play with her fancy vanity sets, Howard cursing under his breath when he found Tony singing and dancing in Maria’s too large high heels. Maria whispering encouragement as Tony picked out tunes on the piano, Howard never encouraging, never smiling, always pushing. 

Damn his chest hurt today, and Tony tried and failed to get his mind back online as he pushed at the arc reactor until the metal edges dug into his palm, tried and failed to focus on the conversation after Pepper said the words ‘public apology’, tried and failed to simply think when his entire body felt stretched to its limit, head pounding and heart pounding and temples pounding and so badly needing to sleep, to rest, to be held that Tony didn’t know if he could even manage standing for a single minute more–

A quiet knock at the door, and before Tony could scream that he was not to be disturbed, that he could not handle another anything right fucking now, James stepped into the hotel room and shut the door firmly behind him. 

Oh.

The soldier looked every bit as frantic as Tony felt, pale eyes wild and hair rumpled like he’d been tugging at it, clothes still stained from the fight on the raceway. James was chewing at his bottom lip and Tony unconsciously mirrored the motion, silver fingers were clenching and unclenching then plucking at a shirt hem anxiously and Tony bit the inside of his cheek until it bled when James just stood there and stared at him. 

“I can assure you I am not making light of your concerns, however it is not Stark Industries duty to apprehend–” 

Pepper was still talking and the phone slipped down from Tony’s ear to his side as he looked the soldier over and felt the overwhelming need to simply rest transform into something else entirely, weakening his knees and loosening his frame as James took one and then two steps forward. 

“We should talk?” Tony muttered barely audible over the phone conversation. “About me being Iron Man and what happened out there? We should talk, right?” 

“Don’t really wanna talk yet.” James took another step forward and waited, left hand turned palm out and almost reaching for Tony with an expression half wary half pleading, looking for all the world like he was well on his way to meeting Tony at a mutual breaking point. “Do you wanna talk?” 

Soft and Brooklyn, slow and syrupy warm, fear and anxious turning to ready and want with nothing more than a step forward and a brush of fingers and Tony sucked in a shocked breath when James was suddenly on him, looming over him, pushing him back into the wall and grabbing him by the waist and clutching him tight. 

“Jesus Christ Tony.” James ground out, left hand at Tony’s cheek, up into his hair and then down to rest at the base of his neck. “Dunno what the hell just happened out there, or who that was with those whips or what the fuck is goin’ on but I was so damn scared for you–” 

–the words fell apart in a groan when their mouths met in a hard kiss, Tony’s head falling back and lips parting to make room for Jame’s tongue when the soldier tapped at his jaw impatiently and pushed forward to taste deeper, to pin Tony to the wall harder and take everything the pretty brunette was willing to give. 

Tony grabbed at James’s shoulders, scraped across an impossibly wide back and tried to quiet a whimper when he felt where steel muscles fell into steel pieces, thick scars through the thin shirt, and heated skin against cold metal. “James.” Fingers at the collar of his shirt and then down to the buttons and Tony jerked and gasped when James shredded the material between his fingers with nothing more than a quick yank. 

“Fuck.” James broke the kiss so he could stare, throat clicking dry when he swallowed and spread his palm out to cover the arc reactor and the black lines branching out from behind it. “This the thing? The one that powers your heart and the one that guy had? Same thing?” 

“Same thing.” Tony nodded, grimacing away when he saw the black lines even from beneath James’s big hand. “Yeah it’s– don’t uh, don’t look– I’m a mess right here, James. Don’t–” 

“You’re a mess?” James tucked his head into Tony’s shoulder and shuddered through an unsteady breath, shoulders curving in over Tony’s frame like he was trying to shield him, trying to protect him. “I’m shakin’, Tony. Dunno know why I’m so scared but damn it, you almost died out there. Don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.” 

“You don’t remember enough about your life to know that for sure.” It was a morbid joke but Tony made it anyway, breathing a soft laugh and turning his nose into James’s hair, winding his fingers into the thick mess and tugging at it until James looked up enough to give him a kiss, and then another, and another so Tony could moan and drag his teeth along the soldier’s bottom lip. Finally finally James gave him the tiniest smile, bumped their noses and chased the kiss until it turned long and languid, punctuated by the still near frantic grip at Tony’s waist and the flex of steel fingers over his heart. 

“Does it hurt?” James swept his mouth along the line of Tony’s jaw until his breath puffed hot in Tony’s ear. “Are you hurt?” 

“Little bit.” Tony admitted, soft and uncertain and unused to telling anyone he was anything less than always fine, he was always fine but right now he was hurt and it felt good to actually say it. “Yeah I– I’m hurt. Little bit.” 

James gathered him up tighter and Tony wet his lips, faces so close he could almost trace James’s mouth with his tongue if he leaned in just a scant inch. “Will you–” he licked his lips again. “…make it better for me?” 

“Make it better for you.” James echoed, and the tilt of his mouth was sinful and promising and relieved because he so clearly needed to be as close with Tony as Tony needed to be with him. “I’ll make it better for you, baby.” 

Baby. 

Christ, when was the last time anyone had called Tony a pet name, a sweet name, anything other than Tony or Stark or reckless?

“Make it better for you, baby.” James said again, halfway groaned the words as he shifted his weight so he was pushing right into Tony, tore the rest of Tony’s shirt away and yanked his own up and off his shoulders so the next time they kissed it was just skin on skin, steel fingers over the cold blue reactor, lips and teeth and stuttered gasps, Tony crying a muffled yes against Jame’s tongue when grasping hands hooked into his belt and shoved his pants down. 

“Still wet from last night?” James panted into Tony’s ear, holding him steady so Tony could kick out of the trousers and rub naked against the soldier’s tight jeans. “Huh? Still fuckin’ dripping’ from me?” 

“Shit.” Tony choked on a curse when James ran two fingers careful careful at his rim, the unexpected filth from the soldier stunning him speechless.“Oh-h-hh—” 

“C’mere.” Up and Tony was suddenly off the ground several feet, James hefting him with nothing more than a quiet grunt and directing Tony’s legs right around his waist so there was a better angle to touch and feel and swear when Tony shuddered and clenched and dripped wet onto Jame’s hand. “Ah hell, sugar you feel so good.” 

“F–fu–” Tony couldn’t even get a word out, not when the anxiety and terror of the day was currently dialing down to the singular pressure of James at his hole, when every beat of his heart made his cock twitch and leak against James’s washboard abs. “James.” 

The first push in was breathtaking, body blanking, the too soon stretch nearly painful but the fullness altogether perfect and Tony’s mind shut down, his body went pliant and loose and every nerve centered in on his core and James throbbing inside him. 

“God.” Tony’s head lolled back and James followed it with a line of kisses up his throat, mouthing at his pulse and digging in teeth enough to light sparks behind Tony’s eyelids. “James please– please–” he was stuck, pinned, almost helpless on top of James and he loved it– he loved it– so much about his life was out of control right now but this? This was helpless but still control and this was pinned and held but still power because James was shaking against him and whispering broken, “Tony Tony Tony” into his hair, pushed just as close to the edge as Tony was just because they were together. 

“M-make it better.” He stammered and James moved rough and fast inside him, scraping Tony’s back up the wall and printing bruises at his ass with a too tight grip. Tony hooked into James’s long hair and brushed it forward until it hid their faces, let the big soldier curl into him and there were soft words that felt out of place with the brutal strokes and whimpers pushed from their mouths with each thrust that bottomed out inside Tony’s center. Quiet pleas for more and yes and harder, James, harder and a hoarse answer, a shaken head– don’t ask me to hurt you Tony, I can’t, I won’t– and tears in Tony’s eyes that he tried to shut away and blink back because vulnerability shouldn’t be so scary and being held shouldn’t be such a relief, and he bit his lip raw until James sealed their mouths together to take the hurt away. 

When they finished– first Tony spilling between their bodies and then James following after– when they finished, it was all too much and Tony hid in James’s bulk, folded in on himself as best he could with James still spreading him open, slumped onto the wall and rubbed his hands at his eyes and James muttered hot and desperate, “You scared th’hell outta me sweetheart. Don’t ever do nothin’ like that again.” 

“Maybe you just make sure you’re there to save me.” was all Tony managed in return, not snarky but almost asking, not sarcasm but begging, and James nodded and just held Tony all the tighter. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there.” 

I got you. 

*************

*************

Pepper wanted to leave immediately, wanted Tony to pack up and meet her down at the car in no more than an hour and so help her God, if he ever hung up on a three way call when she was trying to convince an entire country to not sue the hell out of Stark industries….

“I’ll be downstairs in an hour.” Tony had told her and James took that as his cue to leave. 

A quick good-bye kiss at the hall that ended with Tony blushing beautifully, and James staying just a moment with his hand flattened to the closed door for sentiments sake, and then the soldier turned on his heel and sauntered towards the elevators that would take him downstairs again. He’d never even got his overnight bag up to the hotel room, hadn’t even seen the inside of the no doubt lavish room Tony had rented for him and now all he cared about was getting back on the plane and back to Malibu– back to home. 

When had he started thinking of Malibu as home? Of Tony as the man he–

… … …wait.

… …stop. 

…danger.

An average bystander wouldn’t have noticed the half stutter in James’s walk, most special agents and operatives wouldn’t have caught his eyes darting just briefly to the left. There were very few people at all that could have identified the exact second James stopped being James and tapped into something instinctive and horrifying deep in his psyche. 

It wasn’t even a second. It was a click click click and he acted lightning fast, snatched a body from behind a corner and threw it into an adjoining wall, closed silver fingers around a too delicate neck and squeezed. 

“My oh my.” Natalie hung a terrifying foot and a half off the floor in James’s grip with both hands wrapped around an immovable wrist, stared into ghostly eyes and still had the audacity to smirk, “Is this how you treat Stark when you have him in this position?” 

James leaned in close and growled, words coming bitten off and hard edged Russian as he snarled, “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” Natalie snapped, green eyes flickering with a breath of fear before steeling in stubbornness. “You sure remember the Russian thing, hm? ty sobirayesh'sya ubit’ menya seychas, soldat?”

“I do not know what that means.” James hissed, and the red head laughed at him, mocked him to retort, “Yes, yes you fucking do.” 

“Why are you pretending to be a secretary?” James ignored the clang of memory and almost answers in his head and squeezed tighter at the spy’s jugular. “What are you planning for Tony and Ms. Potts?” 

“You know, the least you could do is remember me.” Natalie was whispering now, the words soft from her bruising throat. “You put a bullet through me, nearly killed me.” 

“I do not remember the faces I let walk away.” the soldier rumbled. “I only remember the ones I saw between the crosshairs.” 

Natalie blinked in poorly disguised surprise, and James flickered, flinched as a sea of faces swam through his mind all at once. “No, that’s not right, I–” it was almost eerie the way his voice tipped between nearly robotic to heartbreakingly unsure, a thread of New York when James was himself, muttering to himself in Russian when he struggled– “YA ne … net, eto ne ya. It’s not me–” 

“You remember.” Natalie found the wall behind her with one foot and braced herself. “I know you do. This is just an act. You are pretending and I see right through you.” 

“Not–” James grimaced like his head hurt. “Not pretending I just don’t– don’t remember a whole lot of anything these days.” 

“Mm.” Natalie planted a tiny foot at James’s chest and the soldier was too lost in his own head to notice. “Count your blessings, then.” 

It was one two three steps up the soldier’s chest, and Natalie scaled him using the wall as leverage, wrapped her thighs around his neck and threw James to the ground with her legs tight at his throat and rapidly cutting off his air. 

James hissed out a pained breath and grabbed onto her feet to wrench them apart, rolled on the floor when Natalie damn near broke his neck when she clamped down tight and snapped out a piano wire between her hands to get under his chin. 

“Fuck–!” Both hands at Natalie’s thighs and James jerked— snap the femur, drive the bone through her skin, puncture the femoral artery, shock and trauma contributes to death, bleed out in less than five minutes, faster if I snap her neck–  and froze. 

…Natalie stopped when the soldier did, the piano wire falling lax between her fingers. 

“You really don’t remember anything.” she stated warily, suspiciously, her heart sinking the longer James hesitated with those dangerous hands at her legs. “Or at least you aren’t who I think you are. Otherwise you would have killed me right now.” 

James tapped into his strength just enough to push the redhead off, rolled to his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets to give Natalie space to stand up as well. 

“Alright then.” Natalie adjusted her hair and smoothed down the short skirt of her red dress. “That’s– this is interesting, but I can adjust.” 

“You’re trying to hurt Tony and Ms. Potts.” James dug his fingers into his own thigh until it stung, forcing his mind to stay focused and sharp instead of wildly spinning from the intake of Russian and violence. “Not gonna let that happen.” 

“I promise you, I’m not trying to hurt anyone.” Natalie inched away a few steps, knowing full well her escape from death at the hands of the Winter Soldier might only be a temporary reprieve. “I can’t tell you why I’m here right now, and I know for certain the old you would take that as a threat, but I am not a threat.” 

She hesitated, then conceded with a tiny smile, “At least, I am not a threat to anyone you currently care about, and so long as you keep your distance, I will not be a threat to you.” 

Natalie knew things and James could see that plain as day. But he could also see that she was telling the truth– meaning no harm but also ready to take no shit and he finally swallowed and backed up a few steps of his own as a conciliatory measure. 

Don’t test me, I won’t test you. 

“You know who I am?” he asked quietly, half desperately, zeroing in on the only words that seemed to make any sense. “Who I used to be?” 

“I don’t know who you are right now.” Natalie was careful to answer simply, honestly. “I know pieces of who you were at one time, but nothing more than a name of who you were before then.” 

“You know my name?” James hunched his shoulders and shuffled his feet. “My real name? Who I was before all of–” a vague gesture towards his left arm and then to his head. 

“Yes.” Natalie was breaking every one of Fury’s rules, betraying the trust of someone else she had only recently began to call friend, but she nodded anyway. “Yes, I know your real name. Who you were before you lost your arm.”

“Tell me.” 

And Natalie took a deep breath, backed up another step just in case and whispered, “Your name is James. I swear it. Your real name is James.” 

****************

****************

The plane ride back home to Malibu was tense, Pepper switching between talking on the phone and talking at Tony about what had happened, Natalie being purposefully, conspicuously quiet in her own seat and James equally as purposefully, conspicuously quiet in his spot on the low couch along the back wall of the jet. 

“Pep, I need you to listen to me.” Tony rubbed at his temples wearily when Pepper kept right on talking. “No, wait. You and I need to talk about a few things and I’ve been keeping it from you but I’m running out of time so–” 

Natalie’s head snapped up curiously, but Pepper raised a hand to cut Tony off. “No, Tony I need you to listen to me. We cannot continue on like this! You are getting increasingly reckless and it has to stop! I know you’re happy I took over the company but I can’t keep doing my old job of babysitting you and also the new job of all of this and then also–” 

“Alright.” Tony stood up and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m– I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m asking too much of you.” 

“God, Tony.” Pepper wiped at a stray tear and pulled him back so she could kiss his cheek. “I love you dearly, but I need you to not be you for just a few weeks until all of this settles down, okay? Please?” 

“Not be me for a few weeks.” Tony nodded like he would still be around in a few weeks. “Yep. I can do that. I’ll do that. I promise.” 

“Thank you.” Pepper patted at his hand. “Okay um– you have to go to that luncheon okay? I know we won’t set down in Malibu until close to three am but at eleven am you have to be perky and presentable and appropriate for the congratulatory luncheon at the gardens, do you understand?” 

“I understand.” 

“Promise me.” 

“I promise.” Tony crossed his heart, and finally Pepper smiled. “I promise, I’ll be there. Fully dressed, fully sober, all of that. Promise.” 

“Thank you.” Pepper took a long drink of her wine, then inclined her head towards James on the couch. “Go sit by someone who won’t mind your brand of shenanigans.” 

“Sure, Pep.” 

James didn’t scoot over when Tony came to sit by him, only lay his arm along the back of the couch in an open, obvious invitation for Tony to cuddle right up close. Tony debated it for a second, two seconds before finally sitting and inching closer and then closer again until he could lean his head onto James’s shoulder and let all the weariness drain right out of his body. 

It was nice not to have to hide, nice to feel the warmth pouring off James and know it was okay to snuggle even closer and no one else would look twice in their direction. 

Is this what it could have been like for years if Tony hadn’t been so far back in the closet, so afraid of the tabloids and the disapproval from beyond the grave? 

“Wanna be my plus one at a luncheon tomorrow?” Tony’s head hurt, but that was nothing knew. He was thinking about Pepper and thinking about Monaco and thinking about changes to James’s arm and thinking about his upcoming birthday party he’d forgotten to cancel because it was a standing blow out bash every year no matter what and based on the RSVP’s pouring into J’s system, not even Afghanistan had dissuaded the usual hangers-on and party seekers. 

His head hurt and there was too much going on to concentrate, but when James reached for his hand and wound their fingers together, Tony’s mind snapped into single minded focus, wholly delighted with how James’s callouses felt against his palm. 

“I’ll be your plus one, Tony.” Something about James was different and Tony didn’t quite know what it was. The soldier seemed more settled and while Tony wanted to think it was because of their wall activities, he knew it had to be something more. 

Maybe James would tell him later. 

“A luncheon could be fun.” James continued and Tony chuckled softly– “I don’t know if it’s fun. It’s the un-official promotion party for the new Secretary of Defense. He had a shin dig in Washington but he has a house out in Malibu, so he wants a party there too. It will be a lot of fancy suits and uptight small talk and horribly undersized hor dourves. It’s only fun with the right company.” 

Tony pressed at James’s hand meaningfully, and was rewarded with a soft kiss on his hair.

“So who’s the new Secretary of Defense?” 

“Alexander Goodwin Pierce.” Tony popped the P of the word. “Nobel Peace Prize nominee, head of some pretty intense committees, in at least a dozen different photos with my dad and various presidents. Nice guy.” 

“Alright then.” James– because he was James, he was. That was his name and now he knew it for sure. James shifted closer and smiled down into Tony’s dark eyes. “I can’t wait to meet him.” 

******************

Chapter Notes: 

Aostan French is spoken in Aosta Valley, Italy, established as the official language in 1561. Schools teach both Italian and French equally and it is highly likely Maria Carbonell would speak that specific dialect vs the more formal French. 

* sei un bravo ragazzo e ti amo– you are a good boy, (son) and I love you

* ty sobirayesh'sya ubit’ menya seychas, soldat– are you going to kill me now, soldier? 

Why I love this chapter– all the long sentences that show both Tony and James processing too much information all at once, the way Tony is physically and mentally slipping as opposed to James who is finding more and more of himself every day. Same symptoms of shared trauma but Tony is heading down the path towards death while James is fighting his way back towards living. 

{loved all the comments on the last chapter, thanks to everyone who does interact with the fic, you guys make me so happy!}

Chapter Text

“Rhodey.” Tony paused when he came into the lab and found the colonel sprawled out across the couch, phone in one hand and a clearly stolen-from- Tony’s-desk bag of chips in the other. “Hey. I didn’t know you were coming by.” 

“Didn’t know I had to announce when I was coming by, thought there was an open door policy in this place.” Rhodey tipped the bag up into his mouth and crunched loudly at the crumbs, remained silent while Tony gave the lab a quick once over, and then told him, “Don’t worry. JARVIS hid everything away when I opened the doors, I didn’t see any of your super secret boy band stuff.” 

Tony made an attempt to not look so relieved, but Rhodey caught it anyway and rolled his eyes. “Damn Tones, used to be you didn’t keep anything from me. You can trust me, you know. Just tell me you’re getting N’Sync back together and that’s why all the cabinets over there now have locks on them and I’ll quit bugging you about it.” 

“N’Sync?” Tony rummaged through his desk until he found an unopened un-pilfered bag of chips and tossed it at Rhodey, dropped down onto the couch and scooted close to his best friend. “You know damn well I’m a Backstreet Boy. N’Sync. More like N’Wack.” 

“Yeah, that joke wasn’t funny when you told it six years ago and it’s not funny now.” The colonel popped the new bag of chips and offered Tony the first handful. “Are you gonna ask me what I found out about the Monaco Whip Fetish guy, or are we going to have to karaoke duel it out to figure out who’s the best band?” 

“Always Backstreet.” Tony crammed in several bites of chips and said around a spray of crumbs, “Is Monaco Whip Fetish Guy the official name? Because I could be on board with that. Just spicy enough to sell headlines, just awkward enough to ruin the moment at social gatherings.”  

“You seem chipper today.” Rhodey commented instead of answering straight away. “And by chipper I mean obnoxious. What’s going on?” 

“I thought you missed my patented brand of hilarity?” Tony nudged Rhodey’s foot and ignored the gratifying twinge in his core from James at the Monaco hotel. He was running on three hours of sleep and the left over high of being fucked to the point of near incoherence and it was nice. It was nice and all the questions were sort of ruining his buzz which was a bummer because he really needed it to last all the way through Pierce’s stupid party and then hopefully carry over into–

“Where the hell did you just go?” Rhodey snapped his fingers in front of Tony’s eyes and the brunette jumped. “What was that, you zoned completely. Earth to Tones.” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m here. Solidly on Earth and chipper as hell.” Tony waved the hand away. “Eat some more chips and tell me about Whip Fetish Guy.” 

James’s look was thoroughly unimpressed and unconvinced, and Tony’s returning glance was equally unconcerned and more than a little impatient so the Colonel cleared his throat and reached for the file next to him on the couch. 

“Alright. Whip Fetish Guy’s real name is Ivan Antonovich Vanko. Forty years old and some change best as we can tell, his passport and ID are all fake so it’s sort of a guessing game.” Rhodey pulled out a photo and handed it to Tony. “You recognize this guy at all? Anton Vanko worked with Stark Industries and specifically with your dad on the arc reactor. Those two were bosom buddies right up until Vanko was accused of espionage and then convicted of selling weapons grade plutonium to Pakistan. They gave him almost two decades in Kopiesk before he fell off the map.” 

“JARVIS?” Tony held up the picture and a light burst from the ceiling to scan the photo and upload it to his servers. “I’ve never even heard this guy’s name. You sure he worked with Dad?” 

“How else do you explain the arc reactor, Tony?” James asked flatly. “We both have reviewed the Senate footage of the other attempts to replicate your armor and nothing comes close. not even in the developed countries. Then a guy from the butt end of Siberia who says your dads worked together has a perfectly working model. That can’t be a coincidence.” 

“It’s not–” Tony ground his teeth together and pursed his lips. “It’s not perfectly working, but yeah pretty damn close. So what, you think old man Vanko hated Howard for getting him deported and encouraged his son to take revenge over some plutonium? I don’t think terrorists are allowed to upset about being outed as terrorists.”  

There was that left over bitter than Tony had never quite managed to hide after Afghanistan, the left over anger after what had been done to him at the hands of the Ten Rings, what he’d seen done to villages full of innocents after his company sold the baddies the means to wage war. 

“Nope.” he decided. “Being outed as a piece of shit selling our weapons to the bad guys isn’t a valid reason for revenge. Ask Obadiah. Oh wait, you can’t because we disintegrated him when the reactor core blew.” 

“Easy easy.” Rhodey murmured when Tony’s hands balled up tight. “Nobody’s saying Obadiah or the Ten Rings were justified in anything they did. Not to you, not to all the people they hurt–” 

“–not to Yinsen!” Tony burst out and the colonel nodded, “Not to Yinsen. And I’m not saying Anton Vanko didn’t deserve to be locked up but it might not have gone down the way we think.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“You didn’t hear this from me.” Rhodey handed Tony another piece of paper, the report filed by Howard naming Vanko as a spy. “But there wasn’t a whole lot of proof, Tony. Not a whole lot of proof of anything until the charge comes in for selling the plutonium. Vanko’s name is all over all the early plans of the reactor, then they get something finalized, a few days later he’s deported as a spy and if you look at the timeline it sure seems like first he was accused and thrown out, then he turned to selling weapons.” 

“It’s not an excuse.” he said slowly. “But Tony, I’ve read these reports a hundred times. It sort of looks like they got everything finalized and everything went to hell. Either Howard discovered some concrete proof of espionage and decided not to share it with the class–” 

“–Or Dad sold the guy upstream so Stark Industries would completely own the patent on a piece of technology that would change the world.” Tony raised his eyebrows skeptically. “That’s a reach, even for Howard.” 

“It’s a reach.” Rhodey allowed. “But it’s not unheard of. Remember Project Paperclip after the war? We imported all the best minds from Germany, used them up and threw them in jail or sent them back home to be tried as war criminals. Using intellect and getting rid of the person attached is capitalism at it’s finest, and especially back when everyone was worried about Communists and turning on their neighbors to report them… it’s not really a reach at all. One business partner getting rid of another with a frame up job isn’t unheard of. And the ‘bad guy’ moniker is so easy to slap on someone who talks with an accent. You know that. You’ve seen Die Hard.” 

“One hundred and twenty seven times, yeah.” Tony picked up the file and flipped through it himself. “Well what do you want me to do about it? No matter what Howard did or Anton thought he did– Ivan walked down the middle of the Grand Prix slicing up cars and not caring who he killed. If he was after me for revenge, how did he even know I was racing? I didn’t plan that at all. How did he know? Is there a security leak I should be worried about?” 

“Well, I don’t trust your new hunky boyfriend and I sure as hell don’t trust your new super hot secretary.” Rhodey took the papers back and reassembled the file. “But I don’t think Ivan knew you were racing. I think his original plan was to show up and murder a room full of people until he got to you, and you deciding to be a full tilt moron and go racing just changed things. Sure made it easier for Vanko to find you, and probably saved a bunch of lives keeping the fight out on the road.” 

“Oh good, I’m glad my trauma and what will certainly be re-occuring nightmares made things easier on the maniac.” Tony slumped back into the couch and closed his eyes, a coming headache from lack of sleep and a couple days of high stress pushing at the edge of his vision. “Don’t bother updating me on the situation, alright? So long as he’s not out causing more mayhem, I don’t want to know what’s happening. Can’t take the stress.” 

“Uh huh.” Rhodey nudged at him. “You’re not jealous that he has cool whips and you’re still shooting stuff out your palm like a dummy?” 

“Keep talking like that and I’ll pop you in the face with a repulsor, see which one of us is the dummy then.” 

Silence in the lab, comfortable and years in the making of content, Rhodey crunching away on chips while Tony tried to relax and drifted towards sleep. Monaco had only been yesterday morning and the flight home had taken the entire night. A few hours of sleep had been all Tony managed before the restlessness drove him downstairs to find Rhodey and he only had a few hours before he had to get presentable and the promised appropriate for Pierce’s party. 

He was suddenly exhausted, the buzz from Monaco draining away and leaving him worn out but Rhodey was familiar and warm and  despite the secrets piling up between them, Tony breathed out a sigh of relief and snuggled closer. “Remember college?” he mumbled. “When we’d fall asleep studying?” 

“I remember your ass running on unfiltered caffeine and Satan’s own spite to get through finals.” Rhodey countered, settling an arm around Tony’s shoulders. “I remember you shrieking about freedom after the last exam and then coming to find me and falling asleep wherever I was. The table in the cafeteria, the front quad, the library.” 

“Yeah.” Tony yawned. “Good memories, right? Treasured times.” 

“Not half as treasured as you think.” Rhodey frowned when Tony’s shirt gapped and he caught a glimpse at black lines around the reactor, and his frown deepened when he saw a spot that looked like a bruise at Tony’s neck. “What’s with the extra dark lines right there, Tony? You okay?” 

Tony was not okay and Rhodey knew it, but he still gave his friend the chance to lie to him come clean. “Everything still good?” 

“Everything’s fine.” Tony closed up his shirt without opening his eyes. “Normal stuff behind the arc reactor after extended use of the suit and stress.” 

“And your neck?” 

“Probably a hickey.” Tony grinned to himself when Rhodey muttered a curse about ‘too much goddamn information’. “Yeah, sort of surprised I don’t look worse. James is energetic.” 

“I will push you off this couch if you keep talking like that.” Rhodey stated, and Tony zipped his lip over a quiet laugh. “So what, you two are getting serious?” 

“If by serious you mean we’ve progressed to the dance with no pants–” 

“–Tony!” 

“–then sure, I guess you could say serious.” Tony shrugged, yawned and stretched until he was fit snugger at the colonels side. “It’s fun. Never thought I’d be the one to say things like ‘get deeper’ but–ooph!” 

Tony gasped when Rhodey unceremoniously– and honestly sort of rudely– pushed him off the couch and right onto the floor. “Honeybear! How could you?”

“Try again.” Rhodey stretched all the way out on the couch so there was no room for Tony. “And keep it G-rated.” 

“Spoilsport.” 

“Brat.” 

Rhodey gave in and hauled Tony back up, tucking the smaller brunette in at his side and frowning all over again when he felt how thin Tony was beneath his shirt, the way Tony trembled just a little bit in his arms. “Tony–” 

“James treats me good.” Tony changed the subject and Rhodey took the hint for what it was. “I waited twenty five years after Tiberius to try something like this again and I gotta say, it’s working out really well.” 

“So he’s uh–” Damn, Rhodey hated having this conversations but he’d been having them with Tony since MIT so there was no reason to stop now. “– he’s being good to you? Listening to you and all that? You guys are being safe?” 

“I’m in my forties, Rhodey.” Tony jabbed at his side. “You don’t need to have the birds and bees talk with me.” 

“I’m pretty sure this talk is just bees and bees.” The colonel replied dryly. “Seriously though, Tones. You aren’t letting him break your heart are you?” 

“Not sure I have a heart left to break, Platypus.” Tony mumbled. 

“Come on now, we all know that’s a lie.” Rhodey couldn’t shake the feeling that Tony was fragile just now, so he budged forward and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Want me to stay here so you can sleep a little bit before Pierce’s thing?” 

Tony didn’t answer because he was already asleep, lulled under by the sound of Rhodey’s voice in his ear and the steady beat of his heart. 

“Wacky kid.” The Colonel tried for affectionate, but it just came out miserable as he got an up close look at the bags under Tony’s eyes and the stress lines etched into his face. “What the hell is going on with you?” 

“If I may, Colonel?” 

“Yes, JARVIS.” 

“The shelter Mr. James stayed at requires a full health panel to be run on any of their residents. At the request of Ms. Potts I accessed the information and can assure you that James was given a clean bill of health. Almost astonishingly clean considering his time being homeless and former military service. There were several curious markers in his blood noted, but nothing that raised any red flags so they were simply pushed aside.” 

“Curious markers?” Rhodey repeated. “Anything you could access?”

“I fear the shelters system is not as equipped as I am to deal with unknowns, so once it was established there was nothing untoward in his system, transmitted or otherwise, the rest was ignored.” 

“Okay, well thanks for letting me know.” Rhodey ran a careful hand through Tony’s hair and sighed. “Damn near fifty years old and I still gotta make sure your partners aren’t skeevy? Come on, Tones you’re killing me.” 

“Shall I turn the lights down, Colonel Rhodes?” 

“Put on that one song too, the one his Mama always played on the piano. That always helps him sleep.” 

“Of course, Colonel.” 

The first strains of Try to Remember floated through the lab, and Rhodey pulled one of the blankets down from the back of the couch to cover Tony, set his alarm for ten am so Tony would have time to shower and change before the party and settled in for a quick nap. 

Sometime soon he’d have to sit James down and give him the old shovel talk, but for right now…

“Thanks for staying, Rhodey.” 

“It’s no problem, bud.” 

…for right now, this was fine.

**************

**************

“I thought the party was at eleven?” James asked as he followed Tony out of the limo at just past twelve thirty. “We’re late?” 

“It’s called making an entrance.” Tony was still tired– would that ever go away?– but after a nap with Rhodey he was feeling better so he managed an almost real smile for the cameras that immediately began flashing in his face. “Trust me, we’re not even the latest ones here. The richer people are, the later they will show up to an event.” 

“Seems rude.” James remarked and Tony chuckled, “Yeah, so are rich people. Come on, I’ll introduce you to a whole bunch you definitely won’t like.” 

“You said this would be fun!” James was only mock complaining, but he did have to put his hands in his pocket so he wouldn’t try and hold onto Tony when the pretty brunette grinned at him. Snuggling close on the plane had been one thing, sharing a quick kiss before going to their separate rooms at the Malibu house had been another. But the Inauguration and Promotion party for the new Secretary of Defense was not the best time to announce their…relationship?… to the entire world and even though James didn’t understand a whole lot about Tony’s life, he remembered enough of his own hidden memories to not be angry about keeping things under wraps a little longer. 

No problem. 

“I said there would be lots of suits and uptight small talk.” Tony corrected. “I never promised fun.” 

“Okay okay.” James held up his hands peacefully. “But I also remember you saying something about tiny snacks too, so lead me to those and I’ll be fine. S’not rude to eat trays at a time, right? Or is that only rich people rude?” 

“You’re um–” Tony peered over his glasses at James curiously. “You’re fun today. Not that you aren’t usually fun but this is– I like it. Teasing and sort of flirty? Is this you you?” 

“Think so.” James nodded once, then again. “It feels real to be like this, not like I’m pretending or following what other people do so I come across as normal.” 

“I hear that.” Tony’s glasses went right back up when someone approached, and he cheesed through a few faux pleasantries before coming back to the conversation. “I spend most of my time acting the way people expect me to act, it’s nice sometimes to just be me.” 

“When are ya just you?” A hint of Brooklyn in his words, natural and unintended and James smiled when Tony blushed a tiny bit. “With Ms. Potts? At home?” 

“Lately?” Tony waved to someone and then glanced at James, glanced away when the pink on his cheeks darkened. “Just with you, I think.”

“Tony Stark!” someone interrupted their quiet conversation, an older woman in a tailored suit and the sort of tasteful jewelry that spoke of both money and a personal stylist and James took a step away purely out of habit, purely so he could observe from something of a distance.

These people were fascinating, most of them lying through their cosmetically enhanced to each other, laughing at unfunny jokes and doling out compliments that were only thinly veiled insults. Even Tony at his fakest and most camera ready behavior didn’t compare with how plastic the entire even felt. Plastic smiles, plastic bodies, plastic conversation. They were fascinating and there was far too much for James to catalogue and understand for him to pay attention to yet another inane conversation about–

“So! Taking a chance on something new are we?” James snapped back to attention when the woman’s gaze zeroed in on him, eyeing his left arm and silver fingers, lingering over his shoulders and long hair. “Who’s this?” 

“This is James.” Tony motioned James forward. “I’ve been doing some work on his prostheses and he’s–” 

“Gorgeous!” the woman interrupted. “He’s gorgeous! New flavor of the month? How long will this one last?” 

“Wow.” Tony cleared his throat. “Listen, I uh–” 

Thankfully– and perhaps purposefully– another voice called the woman away and she waved a cheerful, “Oh Secretary Pierce! Hello!” and granted Tony and James at least a moment of reprieve. 

“Sorry about that.” Tony took two glasses off a passing tray and handed one to James. “Remember when I said rich people are rude? Somehow they’re even worse than the press because at least the press fears being sued for slander and libel. Gossip is exempt from all of those things and it thrives in parties like this.” 

“Huh.” James took a sip of his drink and grimaced. Why didn’t they ever serve beer at these things? He liked beer right? …right?

“So what’s the verdict?” he asked from behind his glass, and Tony cocked a confused eyebrow in his direction. “About me being the new flavor of the month, I mean.” 

“Ah.” Tony took a sip of his own, but didn’t bother trying to hide his smile. “Well, you certainly are new aren’t you?” 

“You’re fun today too.” James inched closer so just their elbows brushed. “Had a good time with Colonel Rhodes?” 

“Believe it or not, Monaco wasn’t even all that bad.” Tony let his eyes sparkle almost devious and was rewarded when James tinted soft pink. “The hotel was excellent. Sturdy walls and soundproof– Secretary of Defense Pierce!” 

Conversation derailed by the same man that had stolen their too nosy companion away before, Tony switched topics mid sentence and raised his glass in a toast. “Hey! Congratulations on the appointment! We’re all rooting for you. Couldn’t go to a more deserving individual.” 

Tony was lying and James noticed for only a split second before his attention was captured by the man in front of him.

“Tony Stark. And his new…. friend…” 

Alexander Goodwin Pierce was a consummate politician– deceptively easy going with quick smiles and warm hand shakes that contrasted with the severe lines of his suit and the sternness set into his features. His sharp gaze saw everything, sharper wit gleaned information from even the most reticent sources, and while he’d been known to de-escalate nuclear level tensions, there was a shark like quality to his gaze that spoke of searching for blood. 

The man was intimidatingly smart, overly educated and weaponized a practiced act of humility, going so far as to turn down a Nobel Peace Prize while simultaneously leveraging the influence afforded him by the honor into an ever escalating ladder of success. He was an American hero, a life long patriot and the sort of individual that would do anything to ensure the success of an endeavor he deemed the right path. 

Alexander Pierce was dangerous in the same way all smart men were dangerous, and while Howard had shaken his hand many a time and dined alongside Presidents and dignitaries while sharing private jokes, it had been Maria that never quite trusted Pierce’s particular brand of charm. 

And Tony took after his Mama in more ways than one, so when he reached to shake Pierce’s hand and was left rebuffed for a few seconds while the Secretary blatantly stared at James, he didn’t ignore the wiggle of unease down his spine.

What is happening? 

“This must be James.” Pierce said, smoothly, a hint of a smirk on his face as if he knew a secret neither Tony nor James knew, and Tony– Tony hated that. Snake. “How on earth did you manage to find someone like this, Tony?” 

“We were both having breakfast in a diner with really good pancakes.” Tony stepped a little bit in front of James as if his height in any way covered the soldier’s hulking frame. “I offered to build him a new prostheses, he said I had a nice smile. Tale as old as time.” 

“Uh-huh.” Pierce had yet to look away from James, but his mouth turned up more at the corners, eyes sharpening as he looked James over. “I see. And tell me, how did a man like this happen to be in the exact diner where billionaire genius philanthropist Tony Stark would come in for pancakes? Was he living nearby?” 

“Was staying at the shelter in D.C.” James answered shortly. Tony was practically radiating tension towards a guy that didn’t seem to be any more danger than a damn toaster, but if Tony was going to be uncomfortable, James was going to be uncomfortable too. Tony had said Pierce was a nice guy but right now, he seemed more like an enemy so James tipped his chin up and narrowed his eyes. “What’s it to ya?” 

“What’s it to me.” Alexander laughed softly and lifted his glass up in a faux cheers. “An excellent sentence to be sure. How long was he at the shelter, Stark? Do you know why he chose D.C. as a landing point?” 

“Um–” James blinked, thrown by the way the man kept talking about him but not to him and the way Tony kept winding tighter and tighter. Everything about this was wrong and Pierce was smiling like he knew something, like he knew James, but that didn’t make any sense. 

Something was wrong. 

“Tony.” Alexander kept watching James. “You’ve never done a hands on charitable deed in your life. What is so special about this particular ex soldier?” 

“Sure, Stark Industries Charity Foundation does most of the good deeds, but I like to get my hands dirty every once in a while.” Tony retorted defensively. “How did you hear about James? Or his military service for that matter?” 

“He’s got soldier written all over him.” Pierce said, and that was apparently funny to only him. “The way he walks, the way he stands there staring. The speech–” he tapped at his bottom lip. “That’s new. A new development–” 

“Excuse me?” 

“No, I just mean you’d expect someone so clearly military to keep some more of that stilted speech pattern.” Alexander was quick to explain his words, but the seemingly intentional damage was already done and Tony reached behind him when he felt James step away. 

“Hey.” he said softly. “Hey, it’s okay. We can just leave if you want.” 

“Talk to your friend.” It was a like a curtain fell in front of James’s eyes, leaving them blank and cold, his speech stilted. Something was wrong and everything was plastic and he needed to leave. “I’ll find something to eat and wait for you outside.” 

Tony was safe, James knew that. The danger Pierce represented had nothing to do with Tony and something to do with James so he was just going to walk away. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“Oh no, don’t let him leave.” This was the shark Maria had hated so much, the eerily focused eyes and the teeth bared in a barely convincing smile. “I have so many questions. Tell me again how you two met?” 

“It was a diner.” Tony turned long enough to make sure James made it out the door then turned back to Pierce and took one, two steps into his space, reaching to finally finish that shake they never really got to, and purposefully squeezing hard. 

All his life he’d let the press and tabloids say what they wanted about him, he’d let Rhodey or Pepper deflect the meaner comments while he just laughed as if they didn’t wound him to his soul but now? Now Tony had a countdown and percent of nearly fifty and if he was crossing things off his bucket list, he might as well add finally telling pretentious politicians to shut the hell up to the tally, right?

…and if he was sort of irrationally angry that Secretary Pierce was being so rude to the first person to make Tony honestly happy in years…. 

….well that was something too, wasn’t it? 

“Mr. Stark.” Alexander raised his eye brows when Tony invaded his space. “Something on your mind?” 

“I don’t know what sort of game you’re playing, but no one is going to come along and purposefully make me and my date so uncomfortable.” Tony said calmly, quietly, clearly. “I don’t care who you are or how many President’s hands you’ve shaken, there is no excuse to talk about anyone the way you just talked about James and there’s certainly no excuse for the recently appointed Secretary of Defense to bring that sort of assholery to a former soldier.” 

“Tony, I think you’re over-reacting.” Alexander protested lightly. “I was just curious about your date, I wasn’t aware that you and the Soldier– er, any soldiers– ran in the same circles. Is there something in your past–” 

He emphasized the word. “–that draws you together? Perhaps he knew your dearly departed mother?” 

“Mr. Secretary, I don’t know why the hell you’re acting like this, but I have had enough.” Tony bared his teeth in an equally frightening smile as his vision practically flickered red with a surge of anger. His Mama? Pierce wouldn’t dare. “I am far past the days of giving a single flying fuck what people think about me or my actions. I don’t care what your title is or how much people admire you for pretending to not want that Nobel Prize. Whatever game you’re playing right now? Cut it out, or I will ruin you, do you understand?

“Just so we’re clear…” Pierce glanced around the room then pulled Tony an inch closer, eyes flashing in defiance. “Is Iron Man threatening me? Coming after the Secretary of Defense and head of SHIELD?” 

“No.” Tony shook his head. “This has nothing to do with Iron Man and everything to do with us. I personally will ruin you if you continue acting this way towards myself or anyone I bring around. Do you understand?” 

It was a step too far, way too far in fact, threatening a high ranking official and powerfully connected man with danger just for insulting him was way too far but Tony didn’t want to stop. No one else was going to tear down the things that made him happy, no one else was going to step up and ruin what should be a good day. Tony didn’t have all that many days left and damn it, he was tired of them being spoiled all the time. 

“Do you understand?” he asked again, pointed and focused and wishing half to hell he had finished the design on the stand alone gauntlet so he could whip it out and send Pierce through a wall. “No more.” 

“You’re the boss, Mr. Stark.” Pierce relaxed in a half second, backing off and smiling broadly. “After all, I never would have made it this far in life without the support of good friends and faithful Americans who choose to let me continue doing what I believe is right.” 

“Sure.” Tony’s head was suddenly throbbing and he tried not to visibly wince. “Whatever you say to make Washington like you. Now if you’ll excuse me–” 

“Oh there’s just one more thing.” Pierce said and Tony ground his teeth together in frustration. “You never gave me James’s last name.” 

“He’s got a pretty bad case of PTSD and some form of amnesia after his accident.” Tony said shortly. “We don’t know his last name, and trust me, I’ve looked.” 

“If you ever want to call in one of the dozen or so favors I owe the Stark family, I’d be happy to look up any information I can find on your friend.” Pierce offered smoothly. “Any information at all. I’m sure with my resources we could have an answer sooner rather than later. Might even see about getting some of those memories back. Wouldn’t that be fun? To be able to remember the nineties again? Good times for all involved, right?” 

“Mr. Secretary.” Tony pressed a hand to the arc reactor when his chest tightened with unexplained anxiety. “You’re clearly having a conversation that I am not privy too and since I don’t have time for political, societal bullshit anymore, I want you to know I mean this in the best way possible– Congratulations on your promotion, but you can go fuck yourself.” 

Tony was on his way out the door a minute later, visibly seething, visibly searching for James and anyone who doubted that perhaps Tony Stark was actively dating a man had their questions answered when the two reunited at the front steps and held hands down into the waiting limo. 

My oh my, the gossip of the decade. 

“Was that–” Brock Rumlow was head of Secretary Pierce’s security, and he paused just over his boss’s shoulder to ask, “With Stark. That was him, wasn’t it?” 

“Somehow yes.” Pierce tossed back the rest of his drink. “We lost track of him in D.C. and it’s because Stark picked him up like a lost puppy and brought him all the way to Malibu. What are the odds of that?” 

“Sorta weird that it’s old man’s Stark work that helped create him.” Rumlow offered. “Should we be worried about interference from big and blond?” 

“The most interesting thing about any member of the Stark family is that they have always thought they were ahead of the plot.” Pierce remarked slowly. “When in reality, they are so focused on their genius and their one project, they fail to see the rest unfolding around them. It was Howard’s issue, it was Maria’s issue and now it is Tony’s downfall. He is literally holding the piece to one of the greatest conspiracies of all time, and he has no idea.” 

“Doesn’t know about his parents?” 

“At this point, I’d say no.” 

“Are we going to change that?” 

“Not yet.” Alexander smiled graciously at a passing waitress. “No sense rushing things. The Soldier was wiped to the point of incoherence and he’s barely human as it is. Let’s wait and see what’s going to happen.” 

“What happens if the Soldier comes back online?” 

“Well, the last person on his list of targets was Stark.” the Secretary reminded him. “Then Stane stepped in and took care of Tony for us and we wiped the Asset before we realized Tony would escape. If he comes back online, he will revert to the last known objective and that will solve every headache and problem I’ve had since meeting Howard thirty years ago.” 

“Huh.” Rumlow shot one last look at the departing limo. “If you say so, boss.” 

“Oh, I think I’d prefer it if you called me Mr. Secretary.” Another smile for a party goer. “It has such a nice ring to it, don’t you think?

***************

***************

It was later that night when Tony lay in bed staring up at the ceiling and wishing he had the nerve to go and crawl in close to James when the conversation with Pierce came back to him. 

It was weird the way Pierce kept acting like he knew something about James, and not in the smarmy smirking way that homophobes acted around two men together, but in a more disturbing way, like he was laughing right in Tony’s face for just not knowing…. something. 

“J?” he called to the ceiling. “You up?” 

“For you sir, always.” 

“Do me a favor and create a program that will connect Alexander Pierce with anyone like James. Former soldiers, PTSD patients, anything like that. Was he over seas in a time when James might have been, was he involved in any rehab program– all that sort of thing.” 

“Of course sir, I’ll begin right away. Would you like James’s opinion on the day’s events? My sensors show he is still awake as well.” 

“Um–” Tony’s entire body heated thinking about James being awake. “Um– no. I need some sleep.” 

“The admission is a miracle in itself, sir. Ms. Potts will be thrilled you’ve finally come to recognize the very human need for REM sleep.” 

“Snarky shit.” Tony muttered, and rolled over into his pillows. “Good night, J.” 

“Good night sir. Sleep well.” 

*****************

Chapter Notes:

I. LOVE. BOY. BANDS so my NCTS-verse Tony does too. Die mad about it.

‘Try to Remember’ is the song Maria is playing when Tony does the BARF demo in CACW.

I sort of enjoyed how fucking terrible Pierce was in this. Talking about James because he never once saw the WS as a person, just as a tool. Making references to Howard and Maria’s death to Tony’s face. MAKING TONY STARK THE WS’s OBJECTIVE JUST BEFORE TONY GOT KIDNAPPED IN AFGHANISTAN. HOLY PLOT LINE BATMAN THAT COULD BE A FIC ALL BY ITSELF

Chapter Text

The night of Tony’s birthday party, the Malibu house was lit from the inside out, the doors and walls opened up to make room for the DJ and the dance floor, the walk out balconies and pool patio swirling under colorful projectors, and the driveway lined with lanterns and spotlights. Cars were already jamming up the neighborhood roads as drivers with backseats full of party goers waited their turn to drop off clients at the front doors, and around back the last of the delivery vans had finally finished unloading cases of overpriced alcohol and celebratory champagne for Tony’s birthday toast. 

The music was thumping, the lights pulsing, the carefully planned and outrageously priced decorations already in danger of being ruined by a too tipsy stumble or general drunken shenanigans and everybody was hyped to spend the night celebrating the birthday boy…

…except the birthday boy himself. 

Despite the lights pouring in from the rest of the house, Tony’s bedroom was still mostly dark. He’d opened the windows to try and breathe the cool night air, but outside already smelled like overly expensive cologne and nearly smothering perfume. The ocean was right there, right at the bottom of the cliffs, but the crash of waves was muffled beneath the sound of the party. The stars were most likely bright, but the spotlights from the driveway reflected past Tony’s window and overshadowed them with a wash of color and the full moon stayed hidden behind a passing cloud.

Tony sat slumped in his favorite chair swirling ice around a glass of nearly empty soda, suit jacket carelessly open and tie still somewhere on the bed, eyes blank and jaw tense as Natalie moved silently around his room picking out cuff links, a watch, and a compact of make up to hide the worst of Tony’s Monaco bruises. 

It was supposed to be Pepper helping him tonight, Pepper who had always carefully coordinated his outfits so his socks matched the pocket square and the pin-striping on his shirt and the cuff links she had made for each birthday. It was supposed to be Pepper reminding him to behave for the love of God and no Tony, you don’t need a speedo under tear away pants, you are a billionaire not a Chippendales dancer. Pepper who was supposed to click her tongue and fix his tie but instead it was Natalie with her barely there smiles and enigmatic eyes and unnerving ability to look right through him. 

“You don’t seem particularly excited for your birthday.” Natalie perched on the arm of Tony’s chair and tilted his chin up to dab concealer at his brow line. “Something on your mind?” 

“I feel like you know the answer to that question already.” Tony grimaced when she probed at a particularly tender spot. “Since you seem to know everything else, including a dead language, how to put Happy on his ass, and the exact moment I’m having a melt down.” 

He raised an eyebrow challengingly but Natalie only hmmm’d and kept cleaning him up, so Tony finally blew out a breath and admitted, “I don’t know anyone down there. Two hundred people at my house tonight and other than Pepper and Rhodey I wouldn’t be able to pick any of them out of a line up. It’s not so much intimidating as it is sorta depressing. House full of strangers.” 

“Not uncommon for someone as famous as you.” Natalie countered, and pushed back a lock of Tony’s hair to get to his forehead. “An event like this is attended by either good-time acquaintances who don’t mean anything to any of us, or full of schemers and plan-makers looking for a chink in our armor and a weakness in our psyche. Which would you rather it be?” 

“Would it be so much to ask that it’s full of friends?” 

“Do you have any friends, Stark?”

“Touche.” Tony caught the almost fleeting flinch of apology on the redhead’s implacable expression, and waved it off. “Don’t worry. Not the worst thing that’s been said about me. Sorry you’ve been relegated to babysitting duty, by the way. This can’t be fun for you.” 

“Is that what this is?” Natalie snapped the compact shut and put it back on the dresser. “Babysitting duty? Ms. Potts told me to simply assist you with whatever you needed to be ready for your birthday party.” 

“Yeah.” Tony scratched at his chin idly. “That’s Pepper-speak for ‘you’re on babysitting duty’.” 

“Do you usually require a babysitter at your own birthday party?” Natalie held up two watches, and Tony pointed towards the one he wanted. “I would say you’ve been remarkably self restrained this evening considering there’s several thousand dollars worth of alcohol downstairs.” 

“I don’t drink as much as I used to.” Tony swirled his soda glass again. “Also, last year I gave a lap dance to the British Ambassador’s wife and nearly started an international incident, which is probably why Pepper left any dignitaries off the list this year and why I’ve decided to leave the hard alcohol to everyone else.” 

Natalie visibly tried to smother a smile, but it escaped as a smirk anyway. “Well, if that’s the case, I prefer the term nanny. It pays much more than babysitter.” 

“Oh, is Pepper not paying you enough?” Tony waved off Natalie’s help and fastened the watch around his wrist. “Cos I can talk to her about that. I know she’s the CEO but I feel like I still have some influence on Stark Industry things. It’s my name on the building after all.” 

“I saw your paycheck last week.” Natalie held up Tony’s jacket and he stood to shrug into it. “You are officially the mechanic of Stark Industries and I don’t think mechanics have any say in CEO dealings.” 

“The mechanic.” Tony smiled a little. “I’m okay with that. 

The jacket fit looser than it had only a few months ago when Pepper had it made, the waist at the pants a little baggy instead of perfectly tailored so Tony went to find a belt. “Natalie?” 

Natalie’s eyes narrowed when she saw the belt, narrowed further when she saw how tight Tony had to cinch it. “What else can I do for you, Mr. Stark?” 

“You could call me Tony, for one.” Tony smoothed his shirt down and wet his lips anxiously, chest tightening in near grief as he thought about all the last things he’d been checking off his list lately. “If uh– if this was your last birthday, what would you do?” 

“My last birthday?” 

“Okay not– not your last birthday. Maybe that was a bad example,” Tony glanced over Natalie’s shoulder when the door opened and James peeked his head around. “If you wanted to make this birthday extra special or extra memorable. What would you do?” 

“Oh.” Natalie’s smile almost seemed sad as she brushed the lint from Tony’s lapel. “Well if I wanted an extra memorable birthday, I’d simply do whatever I want, with whoever I wanted and not care what anyone thought about it.” 

“Have anybody particularly in mind?” Tony swallowed when James stepped all the way into the room, damn near breath taking in his custom fit dark blue suit, silver fingers gleaming out from beneath the tailored cuffs. “For that memorable birthday?” 

“Someone I can never have.” It was a startlingly vulnerable admission from the usually unreadable woman, Natalie’s lips curving up even as her eyes dimmed in sadness. “But it doesn’t matter, I don’t celebrate my birthday anyway. Far too busy dodging whip wielding maniacs in exotic locations while trying not to snap a high heel with my new employer.” 

Tony finally looked back at Natalie, cocking his head curiously. “You don’t seem the type to worry about snapped high heels. In fact, you seem like the type to break them on purpose and use the pieces as a weapon.” 

“Well you don’t seem the type to make small talk with a secretary when there is someone far more interesting waiting to speak with you.” she countered smoothly, then stepped away and clasped her hands. “Will that be all, Mr. Stark?” 

“…that will be all, Ms. Rushman.” 

Natalie excused herself quietly, and even though Tony frowned when he saw her give James a wide wide berth at the door, the frown immediately softened and disappeared when James pushed the door mostly closed and crossed the room to lay a sweet kiss on Tony’s lips. 

“Hey.” James’s smile was just a tiny bit goofy when he pulled away. “Happy birthday Tony.” 

“Yeah.” Tony cleared his throat and offered the soldier an almost equally goofy smile. “Happy birthday to me. Wow.” 

“Wow, y’self.” James drawled, looking Tony over with an appreciative light in his pale eyes. “You look beautiful.” 

“Beautiful?” Tony repeated skeptically, but James didn’t miss a beat, brushing his knuckles lightly just lightly over Tony’s cheek and nodding. 

“Beautiful. Sure do like you in a suit.” Then with a flash of devilish, “Sure do like ya out of a suit, too.” 

“I gotta say, I’m a big fan of the way you get all–” Tony made a motion over James as he turned to the bar to refill his drink. “–flirty and Brooklyn sometimes. Big fan and I hope it goes on all night long. But before we get into that–” 

“–that?” 

“–anything about flirting.” Tony corrected with a faint blush, and James’s heart skipped a beat or two seeing the flush of pink. Fuckin’ beautiful. “Before we get into that or into the birthday party or anything, I think we should talk about what happened at Secretary Pierce’s party.” 

James stiffened almost imperceptibly, shoulders straightening and jaw setting, but he shook it off and tried to relax again even though the touch of drawl was gone from his words when he replied, “It’s fine, Tony. We don’t need to talk about it.” 

“We do.” Tony corrected– or started to correct, but it caught in his throat when he saw the blood toxicity monitor still at the bar, the screen thankfully blank but it’s presence alone enough to make his stomach twist. “We uh– shit. No, we do need to talk about it because–” 

Just put it away, it’s just a monitor. Just a number. It’s my birthday, I should just put it away and think about different things like how good James looks in that color. 

Keep it together, Stark. 

“–because I’ve been pretty MIA lately and I don’t want you to think I didn’t notice what he was doing to you.” Tony swept the monitor off the counter and back behind the bar for later. He could find it later. “Pierce was being a prick and I don’t know why but don’t ah– don’t think I haven’t been around the last couple days because I was mad or anything.” 

Yuck, Tony didn’t really like apologizing for anything and especially not for being too busy for the normal relationship bullshit, but this wasn’t really a normal relationship– if it could be called a relationship at all– and maybe if he had started apologizing for things like going incommunicado before right now, karma wouldn’t have deemed it necessary to strike him down via poisoning and his mind slowly failing him and–

–keep it together, Stark. 

“I missed you.” Tony said instead of everything else, and that was definitely more honest than he meant to be but it was worth it because James’s relieved smile stretched from ear to ear. “And I’m sorry about movie night last night. I know we were supposed to hang out but I went to bed early. Sorry.” 

“I missed you too, was weird not to see you after seeing you so much–” pointedly, and Tony flushed again. “–th’last few days.” James took the soda Tony handed him, glad the conversation had steered away from Pierce and the way the man had made the uncomfortable crawl up James’s spine and clamor at the back of his head. “You did make it to movie night by the way, you were just so tired after meeting with Colonel Rhodes you fell asleep before the openin’ credits finished.” 

“I woke up in bed.” Tony pointed out, and James admitted, “Cos I carried you in here. You were all tuckered out.” 

“Tuckered out.” Tony repeated with a chuckle. “Oh man, I love that. Well, thank you.” 

“Ain’t no thing, Tony.” There was the Brooklyn again, easy and smooth and feeling natural the more often it slipped into James’s speech. It had been happening a lot lately around Tony– easier words and looser laughter and a nearly foreign urge to be gentle, a long buried want to be sweet and maybe even tender. Tony made James want to be tender and that wasn’t a word James had thought he knew a few weeks ago. 

Gentle and tender which only made the knowledge and instincts about killing and murder and cold, purposeful mayhem all the worse. 

But James didn’t want to think about all that right now because right now Tony was coming back towards him and holding up a set of cuff links for James’s shirt, mentioning how he thought they would look nice and laughing about how James couldn’t be the only person at the party with cuff links. Tony was laughing and talking and faking it, changing the subject from Pierce or whatever had gone on in the closed door meetings with Colonel Rhodes and Pepper that led to him being so exhausted. Faking it and not quite lying but coming close enough that it hurt James’s heart just a little bit. 

Tony shouldn’t be faking anything when it was just them, when they’d already been vulnerable and danced together and everything else together and held hands in public leaving the party the other day. 

Tony shouldn’t be faking anything, even if James loved his smile and the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners with a grin and how pretty Tony’s mouth was.

He makes me tender. 

Tony was stressed despite the smile, stressed despite the crinkles, stressed despite how gorgeous red his mouth was in the lamplight. Whatever Colonel Rhodes had been yelling about from behind the lab doors was stressing Tony out. Whatever reason Pepper had for leaving a boardroom discussion in tears was stressing Tony out. The growing noise from the party downstairs and the constant honking from the still-coming line of cars in the drive was stressing Tony out and James hated it. 

Fuck, he makes me tender. 

“What if we just don’t do this, sweet thing.” James stilled Tony’s hand at his wrist because it was the fourth time the link had slipped and Tony was starting to look frustrated. “No cuff links, no fancy clothes. No party.” 

“There’s two hundred people downstairs.” Tony closed his eyes for a minute to concentrate, then tried the cuff links again. “Enough alcohol to get the whole of New Jersey absolutely sloshed. I ordered caviar, and by me, I mean Pepper and by caviar I mean so many fancy foods, Pepper would actually kill me dead if I cancelled the party and she lost all that money.” 

“Tony.” 

“Besides, this is a big deal. Big blow out for my birthday? It’s the tabloid event of the year, the women wear all sorts of crazy dresses they got from insane designers and set the summer fashion line based on whatever they are still wearing by the end of the night. Business deals are struck and I’m pretty sure a few pregnancies happen and I– I can’t cancel it.” 

Tony was rambling now, voice shaking and head shaking as he kept going. “I can’t cancel it. It will be fun, we just have to get in the mood is all. I know it might be hard on you getting pushed into this sort of thing but hey, it’s like Monaco without the villain. Better food, better drink, no bad guys. It will be fun. I promise.” 

Tony was faking it again, almost lying again. Stressed and slipping, rambling and unable to concentrate and James shuffled closer so he was looming over Tony, non threatening but wholly protective and not going to be ignored. 

“Tony.” he lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Tony, what if we just don’t? You don’t want to be here anyway, I can see it in your eyes, same way you didn’t want to be at Pierce’s party or in the crowd at Monaco. So maybe don’t cancel the party but what if you and me just leave?” 

“Just leave?” Tony’s throat jerked as he swallowed. “Seriously?” 

“We could slip out the back door.” James offered. “That feels like somethin’ I used to do– shirk responsibilities and get lost doin’ other things instead, maybe ditching school or church and playing a prank. Bet I’m good at disappearing without anyone noticing, so let’s just go.” 

“Kiddo James was a trouble maker, huh?” Tony finally smiled a tiny bit. “Well, where would we go?” 

“Don’t think it matters.” James reached for Tony’s hand and wound their fingers together, squeezing lightly. “Let’s get lost for a little bit, you and me.” 

“Lost.” Tony looked down at their hands, then out the window where the waves were lapping silver against the beach. “Yeah, I could be okay with lost.” 

******************

It was sort of embarrassingly easy to steal a few trays of food from the party and a couple bottles of wine. It certainly said something about the assembled guests if they didn’t notice the birthday boy and a massive, silver armed soldier sneaking around the edges of the room and making off with piles of food and alcohol, something about how they had only come for the prestige and photo opportunities rather than to celebrate Tony himself. 

But tonight both Tony and James were glad for the anonymity, Tony relieved to escape the crowd without being accosted by well wishing strangers, James relieved to hold onto Tony’s hand as they hurried down the back stairs and towards the sandy stretch. 

The party had really kicked off by now, the DJ turning the music up and the shouts carrying down from the house and into the night air, but Tony tucked the drinks beneath one arm and held onto James with the other to pick his way across the uneven ground to a tucked away area sheltered from the worst of the noise by a rocky outcropping. It was sandy and soft, big enough to stretch out but close enough to dip their toes in the water and Tony balanced the bottles on a couple flat rocks while James spread the food out around on the other side. 

Down here the music and noise got lost in the sound of the waves, the party lights finally fading as the last of the clouds drifted away from the moon and when all they could hear was wind, Tony finally exhaled a sigh of relief and let the tension bleed out from his shoulders. 

“…this was a good idea.” 

Pants were rolled up to calves, expensive jackets shucked, cuff links and ties balled up in the sleeves so they wouldn’t get lost. Bare toes met cool sand and when Tony opened the wine and offered the first drink to James, the soldier tipped it back and took a long swallow straight from the bottle, then grinned a crooked, “Happy birthday, Tony.” 

“Happy birthday to me.” Tony took the bottle back and drank deep from it as well, wiped his mouth and turned to say–

–nothing, cos James met him halfway in a sweet, slow kiss that was somehow infinitely more exciting than the pile of presents waiting upstairs. 

“Yeah.” Tony licked his lips and grinned. “Happy birthday to me.” 

The caviar was delicious even though James choked on the first bite when Tony mentioned how much it cost. Maple caramelized figs with topped with bacon had them licking their fingers and Tony split his sides laughing when James tried an oyster and declared it ‘went down like a giant booger’.

“I don’t want to know how you know what a giant booger tastes like.” Tony informed the soldier, and tossed away the first bottle of wine to open a second. “Please don’t ever say that again.” 

“Don’t try and feed me it, then.” James retorted suspiciously, and pushed the oysters off to the side to eat more of the deviled eggs instead. 

The trays of snacks emptied quickly as they traded bites back and forth, tossed lighter pieces in the air and tried to catch them, started and finished another bottle of wine that didn’t seem to affect James at all but turned Tony into a rumpled, giggled adorable mess. 

It was easy and it was relaxed, much better than the party upstairs and despite the lack of noise or party goers, much more fun than the planned event ever could have been. When the teasing conversation comfortably waned, James and Tony just listened to the faint music and the louder crash of the waves, each lost in their own thoughts, each acutely aware of the man next to him, each wholly comfortable being lost so long as the had each other for company.

Easy. 

Tony broke the silence first, crumbling an avocado toast wedge between his fingers and mentioning, “My Mama never liked Alexander Pierce. She always complained about needing an extra long shower to wash the oil away whenever he’d come over for dinner. Said he was slimy.” 

“Ma’s always know best.” A flash of someone warm filtered through James’s mind, the name Minnie–no, Winnie?– and a beautiful smile. “What was your Mama’s name?” 

“Maria.” Tony scooped the filling from a deviled egg and ate it off his fingers. “Maria della famiglia Carbonell.” 

“Italian.” Why did James know that?

“Yep.” Tony tossed James the white of the egg and chuckled when the soldier promptly ate it. “Italian. Every bit as beautiful and fierce as all the stereotypes and at least twice as funny as anyone ever thought. She taught me to play the piano and also the best place to stab someone if they got too close to you.” 

James barked a surprised laugh and Tony smiled fondly. “She even taught me to mend my own clothes just in case I ever found myself in a position where our billions of dollars couldn’t buy me a new shirt.” 

Tony’s hand when to his chest when he thought of Afghanistan and how he’d wished for his Mama’s guidance in the cave. “She was perfect. An angel.” 

“And your Pa?” 

“Howard. You know about him already.” Tony grabbed at some sand and let it run through his fingers. “Brilliant. Genius. Cut-throat. I never once thought I’d miss the bastard but here I am wondering if he’d be proud of the way I’m handling all his sins.” 

Bitterness creeping into the words, and James frowned, “His sins?” 

“The guy in Monaco.” Tony hadn’t meant to bring Monaco up tonight, not for his birthday and certainly not when they were sitting in the moonlight at the beach, but it was too late now. “Turns out his dad worked with my dad back in the day on the arc reactor. There were some probably sketchy accusations, some definitely sketchy behavior afterwards and here we are decades later. I’m dealing with Vanko’s sort of rightfully pissed off son and I had no clue until Rhodey sat me down and walked me through it.” 

“That’s what you’ve been meeting with him about.” 

“That and the Iron Man thing you’re still being really calm about.” Tony slanted a sideways look at James. “You really don’t have any questions about how I suit up and save the world on a weekly basis?” 

“Dunno.” James lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “For some reason it seems like Iron Man isn’t the craziest thing I’ve ever heard of. Can’t explain it.” And after a beat, “Besides, don’t change who you are, right? You’re still Tony.” 

“I’m still Tony.” He smiled a little bit and they were quiet again, working through another bottle of wine. 

By the time Tony spoke again the words were a little slurred, “By the way, I like when you call me sweet thing.” 

“Oh yeah?” James leaned back on one elbow, then shifted to his side so he could see Tony better. “Why’s that?” 

“I don’t think any of my other–” Tony made a vague motion. “–relationships or hook ups or anything like that called me nicknames. Or pet names. Nothing other than Tony. One time a date called me Daddy and asked to be spanked–” wine came out James’s nose and Tony grinned. “But not sweet thing. Or sweet heart. I like it. Like them both.” 

He cleared his throat, brushed a little sand off his pants. “Keep calling me it?” 

James hooked his finger under Tony’s chin and brought him down for a gentle kiss, “Oh sure thing, sweet thing.” and Tony scrunched his nose in delight. 

“Imagine that, I like everything about those words.” James laughed at him and Tony budged closer for another kiss, half delirious with the thrill of their hidden, almost innocent moment. “How um– how old were you for your first kiss?” 

“You know I don’t know that.” James protested lightly and Tony mumbled in agreement. “But you’re the one I remember, so I guess you count as the first. What about you?” 

“Oh I’ve been kissing since I was old enough to smile at pretty girls.” Tony quipped. “Pre-school. Kindergarten. All of it. Everyone wanted to kiss me. I had rosy cheeks and curly hair and had the finger guns and winks down by age four. I was a real ladies man.” 

“Finger guns?” James asked, and when Tony mimed the motion, he snorted, “That’s dumb, Tony. People like that?” 

“Everyone likes finger guns, James.” Tony retorted, and dropped one eye in a wink and pew-pew’ed at the soldier. “See? Doesn’t that make you want to kiss me?” 

“Hell sugar, everything makes me want to kiss you.” James decided and Tony had to look away so he wouldn’t be so obviously smitten over such a sweet comment. “When was the first time you kissed a fella, Tony?” 

“Christ, I love how you talk.” Tony gulped back some wine. “Not that I don’t find the pissed Russian thing you do super hot, but the Brooklyn thing just does it for me.” 

He was drunk for the first time since before Afghanistan, the liquor going straight to his head and making his tongue loose and Tony fell back in the sand to look up at the stars as he answered, “I’ve never kissed a fella. Not before you.” 

“What?” 

“Remember how I rambled on about twenty five years of camping out in the closet and how my Dad said a bunch of stuff and sometimes it’s all I hear in my head?” Tony nodded towards to the sky. “Yeah well, that all came around cos I tried to be with a guy one time. I was young and drunk and he was older and a creep but it was college so I figured, why the hell not?” 

“…what happened?” James’s left hand clenched into a fist, a surge of rage nearly black filling his soul. “Tony, what happened?” 

“Nothing that would make you go all murdery right now.” Tony turned onto his side so they were facing each other and patted at James’s hand. “I got in over my head and panicked, I told you how my Ma taught me self defense? I ran all the way back to me and Rhodey’s room and made him promise never to say anything to anyone and it wasn’t until later that I realized I’d never even been kissed. Had only gone far enough to start getting pants off but somehow we skipped the kiss altogether.” 

Tony tapped at James’s fingers idly. “Glad for it now. Kissing you is way better.” 

Christ James loved how Tony was soft and sweet like this, tipsy and loose, eyes shining, lips and tongue stained red from the wine. He was beautiful always, but more beautiful tonight on his birthday, in the moonlight, admitting that kissing James was better. 

James knew he had been the best at several things in the past, but all of them felt like bad things, like dangerous things and things he shouldn’t brag about being the best at. 

But kissing Tony? 

“C’mere, sweet thing.” James pulled Tony in for one kiss and then another, shifting closer across the sand until their knees knocked and their feet twisted up, breath coming faster as their mouths met and lingered, lips parted and tongues tangled and when Tony broke apart to gasp, “Every teen summer rom com was right, kissing at the beach is the best.” James admitted, “Don’t know if I ever saw a teen movie, but I sure agree about the kissing part.” 

The embrace stretched slow and languid until James moved to spread their coats on the sand, rolled onto his back and brought Tony down onto his chest so their hands could wander and bodies could move slow and easy together, reveling in the syrupy slow arousal building between them

Tony had never imagined a moment like this would ever be possible for him. Not after college, not after Howard, not after years of being himself and now that he was Iron Man. Moments like this weren’t possible for people like him, but here he was anyway, smiling into a kiss and getting ahold of frankly ridiculous muscles and for the first time in forever, Tony was lost in a moment he didn’t want to ever end. 

A moment like this wasn’t possible and yet…

“You sure taste sweet, sugar.” James murmured into his ear and Tony tucked his head into the soldier’s big chest and snuggled in close. “Yeah, c’mere. I’ve got you.” 

“Mmmm.” Tony sighed when James’s hands landed low on his hips, rubbed comfortable circles into his lower back. “This might be the tamest birthday I’ve ever had.” 

“Disappointed?” 

“Not in the slightest.” 

Tony fell asleep curled up in James’s arms and the soldier stayed awake holding him close for a long time after, mind and heart racing. 

He should be drunk after several bottles of wine, but he wasn’t even the littlest bit tipsy. Tony had stopped acting stressed out, but their night together hadn’t quite erased the worry furrows on his brows. Iron Man was on James’s mind a lot more often than he wanted to admit, but it was only because the thought of something happening to Tony made the part of James that ached to be tender hurt in an awful way. 

He couldn’t be tender when Tony was in danger, no he had to be the person that had nearly killed Natalie the other day, the person that had come close to ripping Vanko apart with his bare hands. 

And then there were the black lines at Tony’s reactor that the genius never wanted to talk about but James knew were getting bigger, longer, stretching thicker across the scarred skin and marring the gorgeous body. It couldn’t be good, that sort of thing was never good and James’s heart sank to his toes the longer he thought about it. 

Tony was hiding things from him, things James maybe didn’t have the right to know yet but he couldn’t shake the feeling that if he didn’t find out soon, it might be too late. 

He had just barely found Tony, and was still in the process of finding himself. The bad days were further and further in between, the moments where he snapped into something horrifying less and less extreme and every kiss shared with Tony brought James one step closer towards himself, he just knew it, he could feel it in his soul. 

So why did it feel like everything was going to be taken away before he was ready to let–

“You okay?” Tony stirred in his arms. “James?” 

“Real swell, sweet thing.” James whispered and Tony smiled sleepily, “I love when you talk old timey.” 

“Go back to sleep.” James kissed Tony’s forehead and finally closed his eyes too, letting the sound of the water and wind calm his thoughts again. 

There would always be time to worry later. 

Tonight he wanted to lay here and wonder if he remembered what it felt like to be in love…

….or if this was the first time he’d ever been ready to say the words.

Chapter Text

56%

“JARVIS?” Pepper poured herself a cup of coffee and glanced down the hall towards Tony’s bedroom, then towards the stairs leading to the lab. “Is Tony awake yet?” 

“No, Ms. Potts. Both he and James are still in the master bedroom.” 

Pepper paused with the cup part way to her mouth, eyes widening in surprise. “Oh…my. Spent the night together?” 

“Yes, Ms. Potts.” 

“Oh my.” she said again, and sipped thoughtfully at the coffee. Never once in all her years of escorting Tony’s guests out of the house had there been any indication Tony stayed in bed longer than the required amount of time necessary to complete their… moment. Never once had she seen Tony leave his room with someone at his side, nor had she ever gotten to the kitchen at six am without having to make a second pot of coffee because Tony had already blown through one. 

But this morning… 

“Like, together together?” she asked again, and JARVIS answered, “Yes ma’am. Should I wake them?” 

“No, let Tony sleep. God knows he needs the rest.” Pepper took another sip and smirked to herself. “And if he didn’t before now, I’m sure he does after a night with James.” 

“How very inappropriate of you, Ms. Potts.” 

Pepper laughed up at the AI, then topped off her cup and grabbed her purse to hurry out the door. She had business meetings today, and tabloids to scroll through to check for any possible damage control because even with the marked absence of the birthday boy at the party, things had escalated quickly towards shenanigans. Somehow the house was still in one piece, but she needed to call the cleaners and the pool maintenance guy and keep dealing with the fall out of Monaco and since Tony was…. otherwise occupied, Pepper would have to do it herself. 

Same story, different day. 

“Good morning, Ms. Potts.” Natalie stepped from the waiting town car with one of those enigmatic smiles, green eyes cutting over Pepper’s figure and lingering at her legs. “Busy day today?” 

“Always.” Pepper slowed her walk maybe just a bit simply because it was nice to have someone notice just how good she looked in this particular outfit. “Let’s get to it, shall we?” 

**************

Tony woke up as the town car pulled from the drive, yawned and stretched and curled right back into warm arms and a solid heartbeat in his ear. A deep voice rumbled, “G’mornin’ sweet thing.” and Tony smiled sleepily and snuggled a little bit closer to heat and heavy muscles and oh hello look who is feeling perky, this was nice. 

Pre-Afghanistan, Tony hadn’t believed in sleepovers. If whoever he started the evening with wanted to finish the night in his room, Tony usually slept down in the lab. Occasionally he’d take a car out for a midnight drive, once or twice he’d crawled into bed next to a very grumpy Pepper and stolen her pillows for his own. Spending the night with someone led to awkward morning after conversations, expectations of breakfast and planning for a second date Tony never had any intention of keeping, so it was better to skip the whole mess. 

But this morning…

“Happy day after birthday to me.” Tony mumbled into James’s t-shirt, bunching up the material in his fingers and inhaling the remnants of last nights cologne. “Did you carry me to bed again?” 

“Nah, you walked.” James hid a yawn in Tony’s hair and inched closer, winding their legs together and humming in contentment when Tony did the same. “Don’t remember? We about ended up in the ocean when you went all weak kneed on me.” 

“I had three bottles of wine.” Tony flattened his palms to James’s abdomen and thrilled clear to his core when the muscles flexed in response. Jesus his soldier was– the soldier was– no, his soldier was gorgeous. “I’m lucky I remembered how to stand, much less how to walk. Did um… did I ask you to stay?” 

“I didn’t want to leave you.” James’s arm tightened briefly at Tony’s waist, his voice dipping uncertainly. “S’that okay?” 

For a split second, Tony thought he’d make a quip, a joke, bring an end to the moment with a laugh because this was brand new territory for him and he was brave in a lot of things but none of those things included relationships. 

But then he thought about last night, about the honesty in James’s eyes and the quiet moments of shared vulnerability and how good it had felt to hold someone and be held in return, and god Tony was so tired of over thinking and double checking and doubting–

“It’s great. I’m glad you stayed.” he finally answered, truthful and maybe a little shaky and James gathered him up closer under the blankets and sighed in relief. 

“We didn’t do nothin’ sugar.” the soldier told him quietly. “You were too tipsy and I just wanted to hold you.” 

“I know.” Truthful again, but this time with an accompanying smirk. “I’d never be too tipsy to not remember why my butt is sore the next morning.” 

James chuckled and gave the aforementioned butt a quick swat so Tony would jump, then settled back in for another few minutes of just holding each other. 

This was nice. Warm and safe and for the first time in a long time, Tony didn’t feel like he needed to run the hell away from anything resembling domestic. He didn’t even feel like this was moving fast between them, going from hello to waking up in bed together in a month–ish…. Had it been a month? Tony was having a hard time keeping track of the days anymore, everything dialing down to each step forward with James and the numbers on his toxicity monitor. It might have been more than a month, it might have just been a few weeks but either way things were good. 

James changed a little more every day until he hardly resembled the cold, stilted man Tony found in the diner. The Brooklyn in his speech, the light in his eyes when he smiled, the sweet thing–

–oh yeah, Tony was smitten and it had only taken forty something years and the quick descent into dying to force him out of the closet and into taking a chance. 

Better late than never.

“Wha’d’ya want for breakfast?” James’s voice was still sleep blurred and rough and gorgeous, the solid steel of his left hand low at Tony’s waist and drifting idly over the curve of his ass. “Still sorta your birthday, right? I’ll buy ya breakfast.” 

“Then you’ll buy me donuts.” Tony promptly responded and James’s frame shook with laughter. 

God this was easy, so easy to laugh together and touch each other and stay wrapped up in bed like they’d been doing it for years instead of discovering it for the first time. 

“Where’s your favorite place to get donuts, sugar?” James wanted to know, nuzzled at Tony’s temple and dotted a kiss to Tony’s cheek. Tender. “You gotta call the driver and get directions and pay for gas over there but I got some pocket money to take care of the rest.” 

“Oh, is that all I have to do?” Tony chuckled and turned into a kiss that had no business being quite so sweet or quite so good when they both tasted like last night’s snacks and too much wine. “Well if you’re buying, then there’s a place along the beach that makes the best glazed and sprinkled donuts you’ve ever had.” 

“Dunno if I’ve ever had donuts.” James closed his eyes and shivered when Tony’s hands slid under his shirt and met bare skin, rucked the material up until he could get to the solid plate beneath James’s torso and the scars that melded into steel. “But you keep touchin’ me like that and I’ll let ya feed me anything you want.” 

“Were you always this easy?” Tony teased lightly. “Or is that a recent development?” 

“Dunno.” James said again and captured Tony’s mouth in another sweet kiss. “Don’t think it matters, Tony. There’s a whole lot I don’t know about myself but I know about you, so that’s alright for now.” 

“Christ.” Tony swallowed, leaned away enough to meet James’s eyes. “You mean that?” 

Are you as crazy about me as I am about you?

“Oh, sure thing.” James pressed at Tony’s waist, then slid from beneath the blankets and headed to the bathroom, pausing at the door to wink and finish, “Sweet thing.” 

Tony fell back onto the pillows with an arm over his eyes and a smile on his face. It was silly to be acting like this at his age, sillier still to be acting like this when there was a million other things to think about beyond whether or not he could share a shower with James, and then whether or not he’d ever shared a shower with anyone even for some shower nookie, and then whether or not James thought they were moving too fast or if they were actually moving at a geriatric pace but since Tony didn’t have a previous relationship standard to go by he had no actual clue. 

So many things to be thinking about, but all Tony could do was lay there and smile.

“All my clothes are in my room.” James was a sight to behold with bed-head and boxers slung low on his hips, shirt hiked up a little as he rubbed at his stomach. Wow. “So I’ll shower there and then we can get donuts?” 

“Sounds good.” Tony sat up in the bed expectantly and James grinned, bending down to give him another kiss. “See you in a bit.” 

Tony was smiling again when James left the room, smiled all the way through a shower and couldn’t find it in himself to care that he looked damn goofy still smiling as he trimmed along his goatee and mustache. 

James held his hand in the town car and even though Happy rolled and rolled and rolled his eyes in the rear view mirror, Tony kept right on smiling over to the donut shop and in and out of line with his box of goodies. 

“Yeah.” Happy said into the phone with Pepper. “Yeah, he’s grinning like a goofy gooberson. Looks like he’s got a coat hangar stuck in his mouth with it stretched like that.” 

“I’m sure it was something other than a coat hangar that has his mouth stretched, Happy.” Pepper informed him, and from outside the donut shop, James and Tony looked up in confusion when Happy started swearing and honking at the horn in frustration and maybe a little horror. 

“What was that all about?” James took a bite of a jelly filled donut and moaned in surprise when it burst tart and delicious. “Aw hell, this is my new favorite thing ever.” 

“Wait till you try the glazed ones.” Tony countered. “And I don’t know what’s up with Happy lately. I think spending all that time with Natalie and Pep is starting to get to him. Driving women around is a lot different than driving me around. Probably less fun too.” 

He looked up over James’s shoulder, then nudged him and motioned towards the giant donut on the roof. “You know what I’ve always wanted to do?” 

James looked where Tony was pointing, back at the car where Happy was waiting, then crammed the rest of the donut in his mouth and bent down to clasp his hands together so Tony could step in. “C’mon, I’ll give you a boost. Let’s hurry before Happy gets impatient again.” 

“Happy birthday to me.” Tony clapped his hands in excitement. “Can you hold me?” 

“You don’t weigh nothin’, Tony.” James assured him. “One, two–” 

–Damn it, hold still! Keep wigglin’ like this and we’ll get caught!–

–Hold me steady then! You can’t make fun’a me for bein’ tiny then not be able to hold me!–

–Jus’ shaddup an’ get the cookies, punk.–

“–three.” James boosted Tony up no problem, but it was a blink or two before he got himself sorted enough to climb up the rough walls and join Tony in the hilariously over sized donut. 

Had that been a memory? A flash from his childhood? Who was the blond and why were they stealing cookies?

“You good?” James pushed away the snap shot and the almost immediate accompanying headache, and settled in next to Tony on the roof. “Tall enough to finally see everything?” 

He’d said that before, a hundred times before, always teasing and always after hoisting someone up on his shoulders or up a ladder or up to mess with the lights just before a church service, right? 

Right?

“Thank you for this.” Tony picked another treat from the box and munched into it happily, reclined against the inside of the giant donut with legs splayed on either side. “For the donuts and for the boost up here and for last night. This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.” 

–Thanks, Buck. This is the best birthday I’ve ever had, specially since Ma passed–

James shook his head– who the hell was Buck– then shook it again to force the words away. He didn’t want to be slipping, not today, not now with Tony. 

“Good.” he managed, but it was harder than he meant, sharper edged and cold and James grimaced when Tony’s dark eyes flickered uncertainly. 

“I mean um–” James cursed mentally, then forced himself to soften, to be tender, to lean in and wipe the powdered sugar from Tony’s lips and follow it with a gentle kiss. “I’m real glad to hear that, Tony. This is the best birthday I’ve ever had, too.” 

“You don’t know your birthday.” Tony hazarded a guess and James shook his head, no. 

“We can just share this one, then.” Tony decided and didn’t say anything about the way James had gone stiff, didn’t say anything about how cute the soldier was with jelly on his cheek, didn’t say anything about how this was his last birthday so it didn’t matter, James could have the day every year after this one. 

“We’ll share this one.” he said again. 

James ignored the push of a headache and pressed at Tony’s palm one more time before reaching for another donut. 

He didn’t want to be slipping today.

*****************

*****************

After dancing, after Monaco, after the birthday party, Tony and James’s way of orbiting each other tightened into a routine that kept them at each other’s side near constantly. 

James made breakfast most mornings, meeting Tony in the kitchen for eggs and oatmeal because he knew he could make those things. The soldier never failed to exclaim over just how many eggs came in a container because he was sure they were way too expensive to have on hand, and it took Tony almost hacking up a lung to convince James to add more than the measliest pinch of brown sugar to the oatmeal. 

“It’s not supposed to be gruel, James.” Tony gulped down milk in exasperation, and James defended, “Sugar and cream is expensive, Tony!” 

“Is it, though?” Tony met the soldier’s eyes in a dead eyed stare as he poured at least a cup of brown sugar on top of the oats, added the rest of the nutmeg container, and then a healthy dose of milk. “Is it really?” 

There were afternoons down at the beach since Tony decided sand and water was better than staring at computer screens all day and to be honest, with James around he didn’t feel that need to work work work all the time. His mind slowed to as close to calm as it had ever been with the big brunettes steady presence at his side, so why spend the day cooped up inside?

Beach meant music and James hissed and booed at the Beach Boys, turned off Pink Floyd but settled down long enough to listen to the Rolling Stones. They ate lunch and kissed in the sunshine to the tune of seventies rock, napped a little to the best parts of Paul McCartney and let their hands wander when the tide came up and lapped at their feet as Aerosmith wailed about ‘not wanting to miss a thing’. 

Board meetings were scheduled and missed as Tony started ignoring calls in favor of movie marathons, a press interview blown off when James read about the redwoods and Tony realized he’d lived in California for years and never once took Highway One up the coast to see the forest. 

“A damn shame.” he decided, and they left Malibu that same afternoon. 

The Saleen S7 took the meandering curves and straightaways at several notches over a hundred miles per hour, with Tony easing the car faster just because it felt like flying, and James torn between worrying about a potential accident and urging Tony on because it felt like flying. 

The trees were ancient and ethereal, reaching towards the cloudy sky and disappearing before James could see their tops and the soldier stood in awe of the beauty. Tony spread his arms wide to turn in circles among the massive, gnarled roots, stepping through the filtered patches of sunlight and nearly disappearing in the heavy fog that dripped from the branches and hell, the soldier was in awe of that beauty too. 

James pulled his phone out his pocket and used it for just about the first time ever– fumbling with the camera settings until he got the right angle to capture Tony mid spin, mid smile, and absolutely gorgeous.

“Take a picture with me.” Tony cajoled, and then, “That might be the first time I’ve ever said those words. Congratulations, you’re the first person I’ve ever actually wanted to take a picture with.” 

“You got all sorts of picture with the Colonel.” James countered and Tony said right back, “Those were all involuntary.” 

“The hell they were.” James swept his fingers through his hair to get it off his face and smiled into the camera alongside Tony. “Never seen anyone look half as happy as you do in those pictures with your Honeybear.” 

“Hm.” Tony huffed a laugh and showed James their selfie. “I don’t know, I look pretty happy here.” 

“You happy here, sugar?” 

“You tell me, a picture’s worth a thousand words, right?” 

Traveling came with new experiences in the form of offering to teach James to drive– “I think th’fuck not, babydoll.” and stopping for piles of tourist things as James finally gave in to some long buried curiosity and wanted to everywhere and see everything and taste…. Well, almost everything. 

“It’s salmon.” Tony held up his fork to James’s mouth as they sat in a swanky restaurant along the river. “Fish. It’s delicious. Try it.” 

“I know what it is and I ain’t eating it.” James denied stubbornly. “Didn’t like it from the docks back then and I sure doubt I like it now.”

“From the docks back when?” Tony stopped mid bite, eyebrows raised. “Which docks?”

“ I don’t…” James’s eyes dimmed, mouth pulling down in a frown. “I don’t— know. Dunno why I said that. Didn’t mean to, it just sorta slipped out.” 

“No, that’s good.” Tony finished his mouthful and reached for the wine. “That’s good if pieces of your memory are coming back unprompted. Between that Brooklyn talk I like so much and you remembering getting fish directly from the docks instead of at a store, that helps. It does. I can use it to figure out who you are.” 

James sighed and motioned for the fork to try the fish and look at that, he disliked the taste just as much as he had when they used to get it cheap from the docks at the end of the day when it was starting to go bad and had to cut off the gross parts and cook the rest mostly charred cos the stove didn’t work quite right in the apartment and—

“You look like you’re getting a headache.” Tony dug for a couple of the migraine pills he always kept around and James obediently swallowed them back without telling Tony the medication never did anything.

The medication never did anything just like the wine never did anything and no matter how good it felt to have Tony in his arms the once, twice, three times since the birthday party that they’d shared a bed, sleep never did anything for James either. 

Tony made him feel human, but in a million ways James didn’t understand, somehow Tony made him aware of all the ways he wasn’t human and that was a nagging fact not even their recent run of fun could overshadow. 

The fun included mini-golfing with a truly outrageous Happy, the driver proving more to be a player of opportunity than a player of skill. He shamelessly guilt tripped Tony for half an hour about never coming to play with him anymore, then handed the brunette a distracting cheeseburger so Tony was too busy eating to worry about how many times it took Happy to sink a putt. 

“Are you letting him win?” James asked and Tony shrugged, “It’s not about winning. It’s about having a good time with one of my favorite people and eating cheeseburgers. Who cares about the score?”

“He does.” James pointed at where Happy was running in circles and finger gunning at his legitimately accomplished hole in one. “He cares.” 

“Yeah.” Tony laughed and rubbed at his chest, throat tightening as he mentally checked another last time off his bucket list. “Yeah, he sure does.” 

************

“It hurts you, right?” James asked one night in the lab as Tony painstakingly fit individual pieces of steel together to assemble a new arm for him. “The reactor? The black lines around it?” 

“Probably about as much as that heavy plate you’ve got protecting your heart and all the hardware melded into your shoulder.” Tony’s eyes were comically big behind magnifying goggles as he worked. “The black lines are just a side effect of the trauma. Doesn’t hurt any more than the rest of it does.”

“You sure?” James pushed at the heavy piece beneath his skin, frowning over the weight and then the mangled parts where it came out from his collarbone and shoulder and ended in the solid stump where the prostheses disconnected. “Cos it looks like it hurts a lot.” 

Tony’s hands shook a little around the next piece thinking about just how badly he hurt all the damn time, but he still smiled and lied to assured his soldier, “It doesn’t hurt very much. Not sure if it’s damaged nerves or I’m used to it after the last six months. Don’t worry about it.” 

James smiled and dropped the subject, but he worried anyway. He worried when Tony grabbed that little monitor and pricked his finger first thing in the morning, worried when he ripped Tony’s shirt off and saw the black lines getting thicker, worried when sometimes they finished together and Tony trembled and trembled and trembled in his arms like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. 

James worried, and he knew Pepper worried because when she pulled Tony into the lab or even into her bedroom for a talk that inevitably ended with shouting about shirked responsibilities and unnecessary stress and hair going gray, the indomitable woman always left with tears shimmering in her green eyes and Tony retreated to his room to be alone, the door locked and windows shuttered.

“You should just move into my room.” Tony said one night hours after Pepper left and James found him eating ice cream in the kitchen, spoon in one hand and carton in the other. He smacked James’s hand away when the big brunette tried to eat some too, smacked it away a second time, but finally relented under a kiss that was clearly worried as James gathered him in close and sealed their mouths together with a long kiss.

“Fine, have a bite.” he handed over the spoon and folded his arms, cleared his throat and repeated, “James. You should just move into my room. Please move into my room.” 

James met his eyes over a big bite of ice cream and Tony plinked at his arc reactor a few times. “I um– I’m in my forties and I’ve never had anyone I could call a partner, anything I could call a relationship beyond what I have with Pepper and Rhodey and Happy and they’re– they’re–” 

He swallowed again. “I love them. But I’ve never had anyone but them and I’m lonely and a lot of that is my fault and the way I’ve lived my life but that’s– I’m trying to change that. And I think a first step would be having my live in boyfriend be an actual live in boyfriend and live in my room.” 

James was quiet and Tony worried at the inside of his cheek nervously. “Unless that’s not what you want. Or if it’s moving too fast. Shit, James I don’t know how to do this. I can fix your arm and I clearly have no problem getting in bed with you, though the getting out of bed and walking the next morning is sometimes iffy–” James snorted a laugh. “– and if we’re going to be honest and probably weirdly vulnerable, I’m just going to tell you that the nights you don’t stay with me sort of suck.” 

James nodded slowly and Tony spread his hands in a shrug. “Where are you at with all this? Moving us too fast? Not fast enough? Sort of dumb to suggest it when we’re both grown men and not broke college kids trying to save money on rent? We’re good togther, aren’t we? You haven’t had a panic attack in ages and whenever I start getting close, you always manage to calm me down. We laugh together and get along both in and out of bed and I don’t–” 

Another one of those shrugs and the sort of motion that spoke of anxious and vulnerability. “Brooklyn, I don’t want to be away from you anymore. Not anymore than I have to be. Move in with me. Or– or at least tell me what you’re thinking.” 

The ice cream went back in the freezer, the spoon in the sink and James said softly, “This is what I’m thinking, Tony.” 

Both hands swept into Tony’s hair, tangling in the curls and tilting his head back for a long kiss that tasted of cool cream and Rocky Road. “I sure do like it when you call me Brooklyn.” the soldier murmured, pinning Tony to the counter and freeing his left arm to wrap tight around Tony’s waist, the individual plates click click click re-aligning and recalibrating with each minute movement. “And I can’t think of nothin’ better than spending every night with you, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Tony nodded into another kiss and then another, went up on the counter when James palmed over his rear and hefted him easily, opened his legs and moaned when James pressed in hot between his thighs. “Yes. Please.” 

Tony loved to be carried, he used to beg Rhodey to give him piggy back rides or to swoop him dramatically up bridal style when he got tired of hiking or shopping or walking the halls of MIT. 

He loved to be carried, but being carried like this– held so easily aloft with his legs around James’s waist and his arms around the soldier’s neck as James hurried up the hall to Tony’s room and the waiting bed– this was amazing.

Tony loved to be carried, loved to be cared for, loved to be loved….

…. “Sugar, what’s going on?” Two am and James woke up to an empty bed, frowned at the cool sheets, then followed the light to the bathroom where Tony was bent over the sink. One hand was on his chest, the other still spotting blood from a puncture at the tip of his finger, the little device Tony used to monitor– something. something– there on the side of the sink. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” Tony lied and he was too worn out to even try and hide it. “Don’t worry about it. This is just um– just uh–” he closed his eyes and gripped the sink and tried to control the waver in his voice. “James, this is just uh–” 

Shit. 

Something awful lodged in James’s throat, in his heart, in his soul when Tony lied to him. 

No no sugar, don’t lie to me. 

“It’s um–” Tony’s hand went to his chest again, black lines straining out from behind his fingers and the reactor casing. “It’s just–” 

“It’s okay.” James came up behind Tony in the mirror and hugged him up close, spread his left hand over Tony’s to cover the marks and the reactor and all the pain. “Sugar, it’s okay. Just come back to bed. Come back to bed with me.” 

Tony didn’t put up a fuss when James dragged him up to bed, bit back a helpless, needy groan when James rolled him against the pillows and kissed him soundly, when the soldier turned him onto his side and budged up behind him. 

“James, please–” Tony gasped when his body stretched over again, shivery and tender but needing needing needing to forget and to remember and to still be alive for just a little longer. “Please.” 

“I’ve got you.” James hid misery in Tony’s shoulder, mouthed silent apologies along the curve of Tony’s throat and jawline. He didn’t know why he was sorry or what he could be sorry for, but he was sorry Tony was hurt, sorry Tony was lying sorry sorry sorry that he couldn’t do anything fix it. 

“Don’t let go of me.” Tony whispered when James tried to touch him, to stroke him back to full hardness and towards release. “No Brooklyn, don’t let go. Just hold me.” 

“I’m not going to let you go.” James kept his hand over the arc reactor, over Tony’s heart, protective and careful and always always tender. “C’mon babydoll, c’mon…” 

Tony’s grip never loosened so they fell asleep right there, James still buried deep in Tony’s core, skin sticky from sweat and spend, hands clasped together, tears drying on Tony’s face. 

Don’t let me go. 

In the bathroom, the blood toxicity monitor blinked on at sixty-one percent, then blinked off and went dark. 

61%

Don’t let me go. 

****************

****************

Notes : 

Eggs were rationed during WW2 so Stucky getting any would have been rare which is why James is shocked by them. It’s a memory he doesn’t realize he remembers. 

Also, I didn’t expect to get so sad writing this chapter, totally played myself. 

Chapter Text

64%

“JARVIS.” Tony tossed the monitor into the desk drawer and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Where’d we get with the facial recognition program for James with the addition of the Pierce angle?” 

“Nowhere at all, sir.” 

“Right. Right I knew that.” Tony did know that, he remembered having this discussion yesterday– the day before?– and being just as frustrated as he was right now. “Okay listen, scrap that search and start another.” 

“Parameters?” 

“Narrow it down to the Tri-State area, specifically Brooklyn.” Dum-E beeped over with one of his shakes in a horrifying seventy-two ounce amount, and Tony sighed and patted the robot in a fond-if-not-begrudging thank you. “Get out of the military branches and start searching for family members. I’m not looking for James anymore, I’m looking for someone related to James. Next of kin, anything like that.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Expand it outside of male, let’s find a sister, maybe his mom.” Tony unscrewed the lid and gulped at the horrible stuff. “I’d settle for a cousin and a long lost Auntie. Dial back the points on the recognition software so it’s not quite so specific. Sometimes siblings look a lot alike, sometimes they don’t. If it’s a half sibling, they might only share a common nose or both got Dad’s unfortunate ears.” 

“You consider James’s ears unfortunate, sir?” 

“Nothing about that man is unfortunate.” 

JARVIS did one of those purposefully long silences followed by an almost impatient sounding click, and Tony smiled. He’d done the right thing modeling the AI after the unflappably loyal butler/driver/body guard that had been his constant childhood companion. The real Jarvis would have responded exactly the same– a purposefully long silence, and then a click of his tongue before changing the subject and suddenly Tony missed the old butler enough to make his chest hurt. 

“Run program for James and while you’re at it, look up Edwin Jarvis relatives and let me know if they’re doing okay. If he’s got a direct grandkid going to college or something, let’s make it happen. Pretty sure Jarvis is the only reason I survived long enough to make it to college, least I could do is return the favor.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Thank you.” Tony drummed his fingers on the desk absentmindedly. “Did we ever get bank accounts created for James?”  

“Ms. Potts saw to their creation when you first arrived back in Malibu from D.C.” 

“Run the Ghost Protocol file list and double check everything.” Tony held up his hand towards Dum-E and the robot rushed forward to bump into him affectionately, nearly pushing Tony right out of chair. “How are you simultaneously the worst robot and funniest dog in the world?” he asked the machine and Dum-E only beeped and waved at him. “Right. My fault cos I programmed you. What was I thinking?” 

“Ghost Protocol file list ready, sir.” 

“Set up recurring payments into James’s account from one of my trust funds.” Tony instructed. “I don’t care which fund it comes from, just make it irrevocable. We also need to make sure he’s on the company insurance plan so he has access to our doctors.” 

“Of course.” 

“Did we give Happy a raise?” Tony grit his teeth and took another drink. “What about his pension plan? Is it set up okay?” 

“Both Mr. Hogan and Ms. Potts have a pension plan even the president would be jealous of.” 

“That’s good.” Tony smiled again. “No, that’s– that’s good. I want to make sure they’re taken care of. Rhodey too? What about Mama Rhodes, have we been keeping up on her money in case anything happens to him?” 

“Within the files of Ghost Protocol, you have taken the necessary steps to ensure each of your loved ones are well taken care of in the event of anything catastrophic.” 

“I won’t let this be catastrophic.” Tony muttered grimly, pushing at the reactor where it sat heavy in his chest. “I’m not going to let this thing be catastrophic.” 

“And how do you plan to do ensure that, sir?” 

“You let me worry about that.” He pulled up the specs of James’s new arm so he had something to look at while drinking the green sludge. “Close Ghost Protocol. Open new file. Have you been running continuous diagnostics on James’s arm?” 

“Honestly, sometimes I think you doubt the abilities you hand coded into my system.”  

“Right yeah that’s–” Tony scrubbed at his face wearily. “Of course you’re on it. Wish I could write you a retirement plan, J. You deserve something good after all this. Maybe I’ll download you into NASA, wouldn’t that be fun? Controlling space ships and all that sort of thing?” 

“The only reason for me to go to space would be to guide you on your way, sir and it would be an honor to do so.” 

“…Thanks, J.” 

************

Tony didn’t mean to fall asleep on the desk. It was certainly the least comfortable spot he’d fallen asleep at recently, the cold metal was no match for James’s arms or even the solid line of the soldier’s chest. His neck would hurt when he woke up, his back would twinge from being slumped over in the chair and his face would no doubt have unattractive creases from his shirt sleeve but Tony fell asleep all the same. 

He was exhausted. Always always exhausted. The whirlwind round of sight seeing he’d done with James over the last week or so had been physically as well as mentally taxing, the nagging feeling that he was ignoring more important things like world peace and suit upgrades was wearing on his mind. The numbers on the monitor certainly didn’t help anything and neither did the increasingly often, increasingly intense rounds of…of making love…

…there it was. No other word for it. Far past hooking up, far past just sex. The way they moved together was making love, the way James held him close and gasped his name was making love. The way Tony felt afterwards when James pressed soft kisses to his scars and he did the same to the mottled skin where prosthesis met flesh… 

Christ, Tony hadn’t known it would ever be like this. 

He hadn’t known it could be like this. 

Twenty five years Tony had been waiting to find the courage to even try and now every step forward with James was a step closer to running out of time. 

So he slept, hunched over and uncomfortable and exhausted on the desk in the lab because all the best things he’d been doing lately were more than likely killing him faster. 

C’est la vie.

Que sera, sera.

It was quiet in the house. 

James was out with Happy cos somehow the ex soldier and driver/bodyguard had struck up something of a friendship that revolved around food and Happy cheating at mini golf. James had tipped Tony’s chin up and smiled down at him before leaving, “I could ditch Happy and you and me could go get lost together, sugar.” and Tony had wrapped his hand around the immovable left wrist and forced back a plea to stay and joked instead, “Getting lost with you sounds fun, but you do not want Happy coming after you with a putt-putt nine iron for standing him up.” 

James’s goodbye kiss had been soft and sweet and packed full of promises Tony desperately wished he would have time to cash in on, but even as he waved his soldier and Happy down the driveway, the kiss faded from his lips and just left him cold. He was getting worse and he knew it, if the numbers on the monitor didn’t prove it, the increasing fatigue and bone deep pain certainly did. God Tony would love to get lost with James and see all the things they could find together, but he had things to check off his list before it was too late and that’s why he was in the lab alone working on the Ghost Protocol. 

He had to finish before it was too late. 

Besides, the quiet was sort of nice. 

Pepper was out doing whatever she did that made sure Stark Industries didn’t collapse, being powerful and beautiful and so much more competent than Tony had ever been simply because she cared. Tony knew what they were saying about Pepper, about how she wasn’t qualified to run Stark Industries and how there could only be one reason why she got the job… and yes, there was only one reason why Pepper got the job. She was the only person in the entire world Tony knew could do it perfectly.

Plus, she deserved it. Pepper deserved the company and all the money and prestige that came along with it because she had helped carry him through some of the darkest moments possible and that was something Tony could never repay her for. 

Just like he could never repay Rhodey, who was off being the world’s greatest hero, or Happy who had been Tony’s confidant on many many drunken nights when all his walls came down and he sobbed his heartbreak out all over the backseat of the limo. 

Tony couldn’t repay the people he loved so much, but he could make sure they were okay after he was gone and that’s what Ghost Protocol was all about.  

So Tony drifted while the world went on around him, dozed in the quiet while JARVIS uploaded the most recent design changes to what would be Rhodey’s suit while simultaneously running programs to see if there was any hope of finding even a distant relative of James so he wouldn’t be left alone. 

Tony didn’t want James to ever be alone, not again, not after they’d found–

*beep beep* 

“JARVIS.” Tony’s head jerked up, mind skittering and scrambling trying to land on exactly what the noise meant. There were so many noises and alarms set in his lab. Was a project done? Was it time to check his blood? To take another drink? What was he supposed to be doing?

It felt like the times he’d done coke in his college days, where everyone else swore the drug focused them but all it did to Tony’s already high functioning mind was crash and burn and scatter his most basic thought processes. It was like a train wreck and Tony was wavering between tired enough to pass out and edging towards manic with the need to keep going keep going keep going and it just wasn’t working. 

“What is that–that is– we are–the noise— fuck!” Tony crashed his hand down on the desk and swore out loud. “Damn it, JARVIS. Please tell me what’s going on. I can’t–” he forced out a breath. “I can’t do it. Help me.”  

“Allow me, sir.” JARVIS interrupted smoothly, and Tony rubbed at his eyes in frustration because he just couldn’t concentrate. “It would seem we have found a match within our search for James’s identity.” 

“Wait.” That certainly brought his mind into laser sharp focus. “What? Already?” 

“Apparently the new parameters proved far more fruitful than our original endeavors.” 

A picture popped up on the fold down screen of a young man with glasses, a neatly trimmed beard and a pair of unmistakably piercing, pale eyes that were all the more startling against his olive skin. 

“Oh my god.” Tony zoomed in on the picture, stared deep into the same gaze he saw every morning. “Find a lineage. Mom, Dad, I don’t care. Trace it until we find James.” 

“Searching, sir.” 

*ping* “Last name Adams, first name Scott. Maternal name leads to a divorce, maiden name Proctor.” 

“Proctor.” Tony repeated. “Switch to a new screen and search under Scott Proctor. He looks the right age to be James’s brother or cousin.” 

*ping* “Proctor, Scott, age twenty seven. Maternal line leads to Ramon, paternal line continues Proctor.” 

“Continue searching Proctor, we should be getting close.” Tony’s skin was nearly crawling with anticipation, his mind stuttering as it leapt from fact to conclusion, fact to conclusion. Finding someone who was so clearly related to James– no way those eyes belonged to anyone else– and was the right age to only be a sibling or a cousin. They were getting close. 

This was good, this was good because now there would be family, someone to help James after Tony was gone, someone to soften the blow of loss. 

–if it was loss, that is. If James considered not having Tony anymore to be a loss and Tony wasn’t– he wasn’t entirely sure. Yes, he’d gotten to the point where he couldn’t kid himself about his own feelings anymore. And yes, he and James had been working on being vulnerable and being open but Tony knew he’d never be vulnerable and open enough to ask for love.

Not– not love. Not for him. Not after only a few months, not when asking for love when James barely knew himself would almost be cruel, not when Tony would always wonder if James would say yes because it was true or because he knew something was wrong with Tony and figured he wouldn’t have to make good on that particular promise. 

No, not love. Tony couldn’t ask for that. 

He wasn’t brave enough for that. 

And he knew James knew something was wrong and that Tony was lying every time he said “It’s okay.” James knew he was lying just like Pepper and Rhodey and Happy knew he was lying but that was okay. It was. Tony wasn’t going to let goodbye be awful for them, wasn’t going to let it be catastrophic, so he would keep right on lying and right on not asking for love up until everyone figured out the real truth. 

I won’t let this be catastrophic. 

*ping* “Proctor, James–” 

“Holy shit, here we go.” 

“– deceased. Passed away of natural causes in 1991, survived by his ex wife and his son, Scott Proctor.” 

“What?” Tony frowned and shook his head. “No, that’s not right. Okay, James isn’t immediate family with the Proctors. Keep expanding the search but keep them up on this screen, there has to be something here. No way that kid looks so much like James for no good reason.” 

*ping* Proctor James, child of Rebecca P. Proctor nee Barnes, deceased–” 

“–that’s going back too far, J. I need something from this century please.” 

“–1964, survived by her son James and an unnamed daughter, grandson Scott Proctor. Also of note–” 

“J, this is a waste of time!” Tony threw up his hands in exasperation. “I don’t want to hear about people who died before I was born! I said expand the search not deepen the search! Maybe it’s an adoption or a couple divorces down the line but please keep it with in the last forty years, I need something concrete! I need something real! James can’t be left alone after I–” 

“--Rebecca Proctor Barnes was ALSO assumed survived by her brother, former Sergeant in the United States Army James Buchanan Barnes, who went missing in action--” 

“– in March of 1945 after he fell off a Hydra owned train while on a mission with Captain Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America. Sergeant Barnes is the only one of the Howling Commandos to not return home at the end of the war and is listed as missing, presumed killed in action.” 

Tony recited the fact before he caught himself, the information rattling off his tongue like it had done so many times before when he’d visited the Smithsonian as a kid and learned all about the Howling Commandos and Captain America and the intrepid…Sergeant… Barnes…

…too late, Tony’s mind finally caught up, crashed into a wall of facts and splintered into an unbelievable realization. 

No no no. 

“J?” No. “A picture of Sergeant Barnes please?” 

An enlistment photo of mid twenties James Buchanan Barnes, blue eyes and dark hair and the hint of a devilish smirk that promised the soon to be Sergeant was going to change the world. 

“Christ.” Tony’s mouth went dry, his fingers white on the table. “And– and up against a picture of James?” 

Another photo, one from the redwoods where Tony had caught James looking up at the trees in awe. The soldier had turned at the last minute to stare into the camera, striking blue eyes and shoulder length dark hair and the hint of a devilish smirk that promised he was going to change Tony’s world. 

No. 

It wasn’t possible.

“The footage from my racing helmet in Monaco. Give me anything from the dash cam as well and from the suit. CC TV, anything possible. Compile it all, now.” 

It came in pieces as JARVIS tapped the Grand Prix security footage, as he searched the vault of Iron Man helmet recordings and the downloaded information from the car’s camera and each image went up besides the photo of Sergeant Barnes for comparison.

– James vaulting the twelve foot fence like it was nothing and denting the concrete when he landed. 

–James racing down the road almost too fast to be tracked as he ran to save Tony. 

–James taking the brunt of Vanko’s rage and pushing Tony behind him. 

–James taking an electrified whip to his left arm and shaking with the pain. 

–James grabbing the whip with his right hand and yanking Vanko towards him for a nose shattering punch. 

–James later in the crowd with no marks or scars or burns to be seen. 

James. 

Sergeant Barnes.

Bucky. 

“Search my Dad’s files, anything I’ve uploaded, all the server dumps I did when we moved the last of it from the New York apartment.” 

For the first time in months, Tony’s mind was operating at lightning speed, data snapping together click click click even if he couldn’t quite comprehend it all yet. Almost manic, almost overwhelming but he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, had to know everything right now.  

“I want everything about Project Rebirth, everything about the illegal mission Dad flew to Azzano to drop Big Blonde and Stupid off behind enemy lines. Everything.” 

“Downloading, sir.” 

Page after page flitted across the screens, the official reports of Project Rebirth, the confidential mostly redacted pages and the un official reports of anyone gathered that fateful day Steven Grant Rogers went from a scrawny Brooklyn punk to the red white and gorgeous hunk of patriotism they turned him into. 

Official reports of the Azzano rescue detailing soldiers lost and wounded, the number returned home, how many days it had taken to bring them back. A furious letter from Colonel Phillips about the sheer disrespect of the man in tights had shown him and the Army in general. 

A note from Auntie Peggy about how it had been entirely her fault to steal the plane and not Stark’s no matter how he bragged, and honestly how could she expected to say no to someone with a smile like Captain Rogers? 

Howard’s admission of guilt for helping take the plane and dropping the Captain off behind enemy lines and yes, he’d tried to also take the plane somewhere to get fondue. 

The unofficial report of Azzano written in Captain Rogers’ own hand about how he’d found Sergeant Barnes strapped down to a table in a rudimentary lab. About the empty vials and the puncture marks in Bucky’s skin. How he was positive Sergeant Barnes had snapped a rifle in half in his hands but in the heat of the moment he couldn’t be sure, he highly recommended they run additional tests to see if the Sergeant had been injected with anything. Johann Schmidt had access to the super soldier serum, was there any possible they were using a version to experiment on prisoners of war…? 

“Jesus.” 

It was too much information. 

Mission dossiers, the incredible feats the Commandos had accomplished with Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes leading them into battle. Victories attributed to the super soldier serum that made Steve Rogers Captain America, but at second glance maybe it wasn’t just Captain America. 

The Sergeant racked up an incredible amount of kills– sniper shots made with nothing more than a simple rifle that professional snipers today had trouble matching. Hand to hand combat where he was bested only by the Captain. The ability to seemingly go for days without rest and that’s why the Commandos were an unstoppable force. Who needed sleep? Not Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers apparently. 

Too much information. 

The fateful fall from the Schnellzug EB912 train and how Captain Rogers had searched for days for a sign of Bucky only to find nothing but blood and drag marks. Then the Valkyrie had gone under and the world had moved on…

….and somehow Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes had ended up in a diner in Washington D.C. eating breakfast on the same day Tony had been mid-nervous breakdown. 

Click click click. 

Too much information. 

Monaco. The bruises James left even when he was careful. The way the metal arm had been calibrated to some insane number to match strength with the other one. The old timey music and dancing. The Brooklyn accent. The quick shift to violent and the lightning fast reflexes. The way James had to catalogue everything in a room before he could breathe. The PTSD and memory issues. 

“James said Iron Man wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d ever seen.” Tony whispered woodenly. “No shit, his best friend was Captain America”

Click click click. 

Too much information. 

Tony had seen so many little pieces that he’d missed the whole picture, he’d been so overwhelmed by the unimportant details like being called sweet thing that he never remembered to care about James not knowing even basic history or understanding every day things that wouldn’t have been affected by trauma induced amnesia. 

“JARVIS.” Tony had memorized his Dad’s notes long ago. As a child he’d been angry Howard focused so much on the near mythical Captain Rogers and tragic Sergeant Barnes. As a teenager, Tony had studied and focused on the stories as well just so he had something to talk to Howard about. After graduating college, he’d packed everything away in storage and hadn’t thought about it again because if summe cum laude didn’t make Howard proud, nothing would. 

And then December 1991 had happened and Tony stopped thinking about anything other than his next drink for a long long time. 

But now it was all coming back. 

Click click click. 

Too much information.

“JARVIS. In the files of Howard’s journals there are some notes from the early seventies. He was chasing down a theory that made sure he wasn’t at the hospital the day I was born. Someone died, some Prince from Saudi, not the royal family but someone lower. It was a quiet kill, didn’t make the newspapers but Dad had piles of notes about it for some reason. Find those.” 

“Searching, sir.”  

Tony drained the last of the smoothie, then leaned his head back down on the cool table and tried to corral his thoughts. There was something something something right there at the back of his mind, something he wasn’t putting together. There was too much information and he was too exhausted to process it, a year ago he’d have this done already but today he was moving slow and taking more time, and good God was this what normal people felt their whole lives? Slow and tired and unable to focus on a single thing at a time? 

“J?” Something else peeking through the fog of weariness and the sting of growing shock Tony was trying and failing to keep away. Now was not the time to break down, not when he was so close to answers, not when he was about to find out something big, he knew it was going to be something big–

–and it would ruin James’s life but then again maybe it wouldn’t, maybe this would be the perfect thing to do, if Tony was out the picture but there was someone else there to walk James–Bucky– Sergeant Barnes–through it all. 

“J, my Auntie Peggy’s notes from around the same time when she was stationed at Lehigh. There was a thing–” he snapped his fingers impatiently. “–A thing about how it had been twenty five years since Captain Rogers went into the ice and then a thing about how they’d re-doubled their efforts searching for him and while they were at it, they looked back into the information about Sergeant Barnes for some reason. Find those.” 

“Found, sir. Shall I read them to you?” JARVIS didn’t wait for answer, the AI’s systems registering Tony’s alarmingly raised vitals and clear frustration. “As per Ms. Carter’s personal writings, dated April 7, 1970.”  

“When we lost Sgt Barnes off the train, we told the world he was missing presumed killed in action, but among ourselves and those who had been at Azzano, it was widely accepted that if he hadn’t died, Stg Barnes had been taken by Hydra’s men to continue whatever they had done to him at Azzano. Captain Rogers always worried there was a spy among us, not in the Commandos itself but among the ranks of the very beginning of SHIELD and the seemingly instant disappearance of the Sgt lends itself to the fact that someone knew the Commandos were coming, knew where they would be, and were poised and in place to take prisoners.” 

“Yeah, I know all that.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and pursed his lips. “Keep going. Past that.” 

“There have been rumours of a master assassin in Eastern Europe, though we have yet to find evidence of him here in the West. Reports come in of superhuman speed and reflexes, the bearing of a soldier but movement like a ghost and shining silver in the light as if he is half man, half robot. They call him the Winter Soldier and Howard is afraid–”  

“It’s Captain Rogers.” Tony finished, because he did know all this. He remembered finding these notes when he was fourteen and taking them to Howard and Maria to ask if Captain America had really escaped the ice and gone on to be a master assassin. Howard had got up and left the room, Maria had only smiled sadly and taken the journal away and nothing else had ever been said. “Dad was afraid it was Captain Rogers exacting some sort of over patriotic brand of super soldier revenge. Keep reading.” 

“However, I am afraid the answer may be worse than we feared. I am sure Captain Rogers went into the ice and never made it home, a fella wouldn’t stand me up for a dance for no good reason.” 

“Jesus, Auntie.” Tony closed his eyes tight, heart breaking for his sweet Auntie who had loved exactly one man her entire life. 

“I am afraid we are looking at the newest generation of super soldiers, a project taken from Schmidt’s attempts at the serum and handed over to the wrong people, perhaps the same work done on Sgt Barnes at Azzano and maybe even perfected if Hydra managed to take him again after the train. I cannot fathom the horror of a soldier changed into a monster and used for unspeakable deeds, but I suppose our work with Captain Rogers looks the same to the other side– an innocent boy turned into a killing machine. The prospect is much scarier when it is we who are unprepared and facing a super-human we have no hope of stopping.” 

“Howard has been given the task of recreating the super soldier serum we used on Captain Rogers, but it has been twenty five years since we lost the original formula so he will have to start from scratch. It may well take another twenty years to finalize it and I’m not sure if we should even try. The sins of the war should stay buried where they lay in the ground, and beneath the ice.” 

“Half man, half robot.” Tony’s gaze cut over to the schematics for the new arm he’d built James. “This cannot be happening. How did I not put this together?” 

“To be fair, sir. No one could have possibly drawn a connection between a soldier of legend in American history from seventy years ago, to a few shadowy accounts of an assassin detailed in Ms. Carter’s notes over forty years ago, to a modern day former soldier. Even if your most alert form, there is no possible way to have achieved this conclusion.” 

“This cannot be happening.” Tony ignored JARVIS’s well meaning and entirely correct comfort and asked, “Alright, if Sergeant Barnes really was taken by Hydra again and used as an assassin for decades, how would they have accomplished that? The super serum slowed down aging by the process of speeding up healing, but seventy years would age anyone. James doesn’t look more than a couple of years older than his enlistment photo.” 

“Cryogenic freeze, perhaps?” Several articles pulled up and across Tony’s screens. “Scientists have been aware of the process since the eighteen hundreds, and it is not a stretch to assume the same scientists that could create a super human could also master ways with which to preserve the specimen.” 

“The specimen.” Tony muttered. “Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Alright, cryo-freeze. Fine. If I can believe in a tiny kid from Brooklyn lifting motorcycles over his head while wearing tights and punching out Adolf, I can get on board with cryo freeze. But after the war, Hydra was dismantled. We took the best scientists and killed everyone else. Who would have the money and power necessary to not only keep a super soldier on ice undetected, but also to thaw him out and unleash him on the world every so often?” 

Later, later Tony would be sick to his stomach thinking about what James might have gone through at the hands of some insane Nazi scientist. Later he would deal with the head splitting migraine because out of all the things he knew, he never thought he’d ever know a century old super soldier who didn’t remember anything other than his name. Later Tony would break down and let himself cry because the closest thing he’d ever found to love wasn’t meant for him at all, a resurrected and re-found American Hero and long term Prisoner of War Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes wasn’t meant for him. 

Tony would do that later. 

Right now he needed know only one thing– “Who, J?” 

“Ms. Carter feared a spy in the organization that became SHIELD. Perhaps you should start there.” 

– and then he needed to make a call. 

******************

Ring-ring. 

Tony’s heart sank even as he listened to the waiting tone. He’d been hoping to find someone for James, but he hadn’t thought it would be this soon. He hadn’t thought it would be someone so perfect for James that Tony’s inevitable leaving wouldn’t even register with the soldier. 

He hadn’t wanted good-bye to be catastrophic, but he knew when the phone picked up and the call connected that this was only the first step in James moving on from him completely. A couple months was nothing in the face of years of history, shared trauma nothing in the path of entwined lives. 

He hadn’t wanted good-bye to be catastrophic, but hell Tony had thought he’d have more time before he broke his own heart trying to do the right thing.

Ring-ring. 

And this was the right thing. It was the right thing. For James and for everyone else involved. Tony couldn’t in good conscience hide what he knew, he couldn’t even store it away for later after he’d had just a little more time with James because what if later was too late? 

What if his numbers climbed too high, too fast and he never made it to later and good-bye came without James knowing? 

This was the right thing to do, the first step in Ghost Protocol and really the most important step because Tony knew Happy and Rhodey and Pepper would be okay with out him and now he knew James would be okay. 

It was the right thing to do, the first step in the Protocol Tony had began working on the day he came home from Afghanistan so why did it feel like it was the first step off a cliff? 

Ring-ring.

I’m not ready to say goodbye. 

I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to do–

Ring-ring-click.

“Hello.”

“Director Fury.” Tony closed his eyes tight and forced himself to breathe. “This is Tony Stark.” 

“Well well well, it’s not every day I get a billionaire calling my personal cell phone number that is in no way available without some high tech and definitely illegal hacking of sealed files. What can I do for you Mr. Stark?” 

“…You know that thing that you think you’re keeping secret, but I definitely have been aware of since you pulled it from the ice three years ago?” 

“Nope. No idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Right, because you’ve got entire libraries full of secrets, I guess I’ll have to be a little more specific.” Tony pried his eyes open so he could look up at the picture of Sergeant Barnes and Captain Steve Rogers on his screens, the famous one the Smithsonian always kept up at their Howling Commandos display. “Let’s talk about Project Resurrection. I’d like to meet the star of the show.” 

“Absolutely not. Not an option.” 

“Director Fury, I want to meet him.” Tony set his jaw and straightened his shoulders and let a layer of that Stark iron harden his voice. “And based on the lack of surprise in your voice, I’m assuming you know what this is about and we can talk later about how tired I am of people keeping secrets from me.” 

Something bitter like betrayal in the back of Tony’s throat– would he ever get used to people keeping things from him? How long had Fury known about James? 

“So Director Fury, this will be the only time I ask nicely. I want to meet him.” 

Silence.

“…How soon can you get to D.C.?”

****************

Chapter Notes: 

I really really love Tony’s mind set here. He is all over the place and unable to concentrate but still, his priorities are fully in line– taking care of the people he loves and still trying to find answers for James and when he finds those answers, he forces himself to do the right thing.

The picture J brings up of Scott Proctor is actually a reference to that one tumblr post about how Michael Pena (Luis, Ant Man) sort of looks like Seb Stan in some pictures? Like if Luis was Rebecca Barnes’s grandson? I can’t find the exact post but look HERE and HERE and I love the similarities so much! 

If you’ve read my ‘Time Falls Away’ time travel series, you might recognize some of the conspiracy theories in this chapter! And e ver since writing that fic I always want Auntie Peggy Carter to save the day for Tony. Love her.

April 7, 1970 is the day Stony goes to Lehigh in Endgame.  

Chapter Text

“I had ‘em on the ropes.” 

“Yeah Stevie, sure you did.” 

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” 

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” 

“You’re keeping the suit, right?

“I’m with you to the end of the line.” 

“I’m with you to the end of the line.” 

“I’m with you to the end of the line.” 

I know him.

Stevie.

Chapter Text

It had been three days. 

Three days of calling Tony and the phone going right to voicemail, three days of reconnecting with Stevie, three days of pre- war memories coming back sometimes in a trickle that made James smile, sometimes in a shock wave that sent the soldier to his knees with a migraine. 

Three days, and James’s head spun trying to keep it all together, trying to keep it all straight, trying to piece together all the parts of who he had been and who he was now and how it all reconciled with the nightmares and horror that came back full force without Tony by his side. 

Three days, and sometimes James wished he could lose track of time like he used to so each and every second wouldn’t be so crystal clear, so clarifying and so real.

Three days and sometimes it was already too much. 

Three days and sometimes the moments were so good they hurt.

“I still can’t believe it’s actually you.” Three days and seventy damn years and Steve was proving he hadn’t ever lost the habit of lurking in James’s door, hands in his pockets and eyes wide as he watched the brunette clean up in the bathroom. “Holy hell, Buck. I looked for you for so long. And you were just hanging out with Howard’s kid? Three days ago Tony Stark walked into my apartment with a picture of you and just like that, here you are. I can’t believe it.” 

“Can’t believe it either, Stevie.” James rinsed the shaving cream off his face and smoothed his right hand over the trimmed-but-not-quite-shaved stubble. It had only been three days since Tony had dropped him off and left without a word. Three days of a lot of wondering and a lot of worrying and a lot of disbelief because it was Stevie— “How did I miss your star spangled ass getting pulled outta the ocean and set loose overseas again?” 

“Well, you weren’t around to see me go in the ice the first time, so I guess it makes sense you missed me coming back this time around.” The smile slid from Steve’s face, his mouth pulling down at the corners. “Listen, Buck I dunno what you heard about all that. About the Valkyrie and the Red Skull and what I did at the end of the war but–”” 

“I heard enough to know you’re overdue for an ass whoopin’.” James retorted and see? This was good enough to hurt, easy enough to almost be instinct. Threatening Steve with bodily harm cos the punk hadn’t learned any lessons back when he was all of four fuckin’ feet tall and he certainly hadn’t learned them after they juiced him up and sometimes the brash blond just needed a reminder to chill the hell out? 

Easy. 

James could do this all day. 

“What the hell were you thinkin’, putting the damn plane in the ice anyway.” He teased. “Everyone knows your scrawny ass can’t swim.” 

Instantly predictably Steve straightened up and set his jaw and snapped, “Hey! I know how to swim! I am an excellent swimmer!” 

“You know how’ta drown.” James corrected and then oofed theatrically loud when he was yanked out of the bedroom and into a wrestling match. 

It was easy and it was good and none of James’s more scary instincts came forward when Steve got him into a headlock, the urge to break didn’t show up overwhelming when he tossed the blond halfway across the room then jumped over and pinned him to the floor. 

“Say Uncle.” James ordered and he was laughing, not counting how many pounds of pressure it would take to crumble Steve’s bones between his fingers. “Damn you, Stevie. Say Uncle before I gotta hurt you!” 

“I’m goddamn–” Steve was huffing and puffing trying to get James off of him. “Captain America– I don’t cry Uncle– good god, why do you weigh so much?– to any one!” 

“Sure you don’t.” James grinned and lay harder on his best friend. “Y’know what this reminds me of?” 

“If you say it’s like the time I tried to beat up the alter boy–” 

“–it’s just like th’time you tried to beat up the alter boy.” James confirmed, batting away Steve’s hand when the blond made a grab for his throat. “In fact, I feel like I sat on you exactly like this to keep ya from gettin’ your butt beat with a hymnal.” 

“Damn it.” Steve wheezed a few times, then finally managed the leverage to shove James off and to the side. “Why are you so heavy? Last time we wrestled I destroyed you.” 

“Last time we wrestled you were super juiced and I was still a good ol’ boy from the poor end of Brooklyn.” James jumped to his feet and hauled Steve up next to him. “Least now the playing field is even.” 

“I guess.” Steve went for a beer and tossed one to James. “I hate that it’s the case though. M’glad to see you, but I hate seein’ you like this, you know?” 

“Don’t.” James tore the top off the beer and shook his head. “I don’t wanna talk about it yet, Stevie.” 

“Alright.” Steve took a sip of his beer and nodded like ignoring the elephant of the Winter Soldier in the room wasn’t making him half insane. He should just be happy to have Bucky back, he should just be happy to have his friend back, they didn’t have to talk about everything bad yet. “Alright, well have you heard about World Wrestling Entertainment on TV?” 

“World Wrestling…” 

“WWE?” Steve’s goofy grin almost split his face. “They dress up in funky costumes and wrestle each other with all these fancy moves. I watch it on Saturday nights. We could watch it and drink beer and yell at the TV and then try the moves on each other!” 

James fought and lost against an equally goofy grin. “That’s what Captain America does on Saturday night? Watch fake wrestling and drink beer?” 

“When I’m not out blowing buildings up and hurting people until they told me how to find you.” Steve took a long drink of his beer, blue eyes glittering with a flash of anger. “But I found you, so now I get to watch bad television and try to get drunk with my best pal.” 

“Sounds like a good time.” James raised his bottle in a cheers, and when Steve turned to head towards the living room, James picked up his phone and sent a quick message to Tony. 

From James: Three days with Stevie has been great, Tony but I sure wish you’d call me back. Pep says you’re probably just giving us space but I don’t want space from you. Call me back.

“Buck!” 

“Comin’, Stevie.” 

*****************

*****************

79%

The sunrise from the top of the Eiffel Tower was incredible to see and Tony watched it while munching on possibly the freshest, most delicious croissant he could have ever imagined eating ever. 

He’d been to France a hundred times, he’d even been to Paris and the Eiffel Tower specifically a hundred times but he’d never broken the sound barrier while coming in for a landing that had him on very tip toes at the very tip top so he could test the absolute balance of the suit while eating a breakfast he’d bought with a Rolex for since he never had any cash on him.

The croissant was worth the Rolex though, the look on the vendor’s face when Iron Man landed in front of his stall completely priceless and the view of the sun coming up over the city would have only been worth more if someone had been there to share it with. 

“Sir, the hotel is calling. They want to know if you will be staying another night.” 

“Tell them no.” Tony shook his head and crammed the last bite of croissant into his mouth. “Three days in France is enough, I saw the coast and the city and the countryside so it’s time to move on. I read in a pamphlet that there are something like twenty thousand castles in Germany, is that true?” 

“Most have been converted to hotels and museums by now, but yes sir, there are several thousand that you could visit if you wanted.” 

“I want.” Tony decided. “Let’s get a map and go sight seeing.” 

“Sir, the effort of assembling and disassembling this particular suit–” 

“Yeah, I know.” Tony interrupted. “It stresses my system too much. But I’ve never just traveled for the sake of traveling and the best way to do that is at some number with Mach in front of it. Plug in some coordinates and let’s go.”  

“And the phone calls from Sergeant Barnes and Ms. Potts?” 

“Send Pepper a message and let her know I’m just fine.” The sun lit up the grounds below the Tower and Tony took a deep breath of early morning air. “I’ve disappeared for longer doing much worse than sight seeing, let her know this isn’t anything like the last time I did a tour around Europe.” 

“And Sergeant Barnes?” 

“Tell James–” Tony closed his eyes and swallowed. “Tell Bucky that I hope he’s enjoying his time with Captain Rogers and that I’ll get in contact with him when I return home.” 

“An estimated return date, sir?” 

The face plate snapped down and locked and Tony blinked a few times as the display screens filled in, the numbers uploaded from the blood toxicity monitor bright red along the bottom right hand side. 

79%

“A couple weeks, maybe.” he muttered, and then louder, “No, don’t bother with a return date. Just tell him I’ll call him when I’m home again.” 

“Yes sir. To castles, then?” 

“To castles.” The suit powered up with a roar, and Tony offered a quick salute to the crowd gathered down below with their phones and cameras out. “Maybe we’ll ever get lucky and find a dragon.” 

“I think you’ve fought enough battles for one life time, sir” 

Tony’s smile was a little melancholy. “You’d think so, huh?” 

****************

****************

From James: Got the message from JARVIS and I hope you’re back home soon. I’m feeling more like myself every day, all my memories coming back. Some days it feels incredible and some days it feels like I’m living a strangers life, but me and Stevie are figuring it out together. 

From James: Do you ever watch WWE? Stevie loves it and has a bunch recorded…or TV’ed? I dunno. Anyway. He says he would be Hollywood Hulk Hogan if he ever went into the ring and I told him there’s no way he could grow a mustache like that, then he punched me. 

From James: The dude’s a punk whether he’s pint sized or full sized. 

From James: Miss ya, sweet thing. 

“The best thing about this century is the food.” Steve said around a mouthful of deep dish supreme pizza. “Not only can I eat everything without getting sick, but everything is so damn good. Deep dish pizza in two dozen flavors. Chocolate milk– have you had chocolate milk yet, Buck? And mozzarella sticks? They just deep fry cheese! Just deep fry it and then serve it to ya with a bunch of sauce. The other day I ate about a hundred of them and didn’t get a stomach ache. Incredible. And oh man donuts.” 

The big blond picked up another piece and folded it in half so he could take a big bite. “Have you had donuts yet? So many flavors. All of them delicious.”

“Tony took me to get donuts a few weeks ago.” James checked his phone again and then one more time. It had been nine days now since he’d last seen Tony, his text messages going unanswered and phone calls dumped to voicemail. Nine days and even though every second spent with Steve gave James something of himself back, every second spent away from Tony cost him something too and it was a delicate balance between wanting and losing and James hated it. 

“We ate them up inside that big donut down by the pier in Malibu.” he continued and Steve mumbled interested around a glob of cheese. “It was uh– it was his birthday and he said he’d always wanted to sit up in the donut so I boosted him up. It was a good day.” 

“Tony knows about the super serum.” Steve ventured and James made a vague ‘I guess’ motion. “Did he know about it before all this?”

“Don’t think so, or at least he never said nothing.” James picked off a bunch of pepperoni and tossed it away, then smiled begrudgingly when Steve immediately scarfed it up. “You still eat like you’re starvin’, Stevie. You used’ta do that all the time.” 

“Yeah, and you used to pretend like you were never hungry so there was always more for me.” Steve helped himself to the rest of the pepperoni on number two of their three large sized pizzas. “Even after I got all Captain’d up. You doing that now?” 

“Maybe I’d eat my fair share if you’d stop eatin’ so fast.” James scowled and slapped Steve’s hand away from another piece. “M’hungry too, you know!” 

“Sorry.” Steve put both hands up peacefully, then lightning fast snatched at the last of their two dozen bread sticks. “Okay, now I’m sorry. I swear. Tell me more about Tony though, you don’t talk much about him. Is he a lot like Howard?” 

“No.” James said shortly. “No, he’s nothing like Howard.” 

He was quiet after that and Steve chewed through a bite slowly and took his time to swallow before asking, “Buck, should we talk about–” 

“When did you start feeling like you fit in?” James cut in and Steve took it for the hint it was. Bucky did not want to talk about Tony yet and Steve didn’t really know why but he knew better than to push. “When did you start feelin’ like you weren’t just pretending to be normal?” 

“About a week ago when you walked through that door.” Steve didn’t hesitate to answer as he pointed towards the apartment entryway. “The second I saw you I stopped feeling like I had to keep up some sort of appearance and I could just be me again. Not Captain Rogers, certainly not Captain America. Just Steve. Stevie. Didn’t have to check my strength to hug you, didn’t have to pretend I didn’t want to cry for finding you again, don’t have to act like everything’s okay when it’s not.” 

He said the last sentence pointedly, meaningfully. “You’re my best friend, Buck. You saved my ass that first time I didn’t need it at all in elementary school and every time after. You were there the first time I tried to kiss a dame, coached me through the uh–” he coughed. “–mechanics the first time I was with a dame. Dunno how that all worked though, seeing as how you weren’t ever interested in what was up their skirts.” 

“I found my way up there a time or two.” James smiled a tiny bit remembering those first awkward, fumbling times with the girls around the neighborhood. He’d been young and fuckin’ horny and even though he found himself looking at the fellas more often than not, the girls sure liked his blue eyes and swagger so that’s the direction James had leaned. A learning experience for sure, one that taught him how to please a dame and that dames weren’t the ones he wanted to be pleasing all in the same swoop. 

“Well either way, I could always be myself around you.” Steve finished with a half hearted shrug. “And it’s the same now. I’ve been outta the ice for three years and this is the first time I’ve felt like I wasn’t pretending. Right here with you.” 

“Three years, huh?” James’s heart sank thinking about years of never feeling normal outside of time with Steve and Tony, years of catching himself before acting, years of dealing with internal dialogue that rang like hollow commands and the instinct to first destroy and then run from anything that made him uncomfortable. “M’real sorry about that, Stevie.” 

“It’s alright.” Steve put the pizza down and wiped his hands. “I never fit in back then anyway, Buck. Not when I was skinny and scrawny and orphaned after Ma passed, not when I was super charged and wearing tights. At least in this century I’m not the biggest guy in any room, there’s entire sports teams my size and bigger. No one outside of SHIELD knows I can bench press a helicopter, but I’ve been called one of those ‘corn fed midwestern boys’ at least a half dozen times and I’m not sure what exactly it means, but it sounds All American and normal so I’ve been letting it go.” 

“Sure, I gotta pace myself on my morning runs so no one gets suspicious, and I’ve gotta be careful shaking peoples hands. I nod and smile through a lot of conversations cos I dunno what a tweet is or why JT brought Sexy Back or why it left or nothing. but hell Buck.” Steve grinned again, all boyish charm and nearly unbridled enthusiasm just like he’d always been. “If that’s the worst I gotta do to get by as normal? Then it’s fine by me.” 

“And with you I just don’t gotta pretend even that amount, so it’s nice.” Steve tapped at his chest, right over his heart. “It’s like being able to take a full breath in after battlin’ a cold all season.” 

And after a pause, “Don’t you feel like that with me?” 

James shoved most of his pizza into his mouth just to avoid answering for a minute, unsure how to tell his best friend that every time he heard the words Captain America something went tense and tight inside him, a trigger like a warning, like a mission, like an objective that had blared loud the first time they spoke. The reaction had been almost impossible to ignore at first, but had finally started to ease the in the last few days and it made him sick to his stomach. 

He didn’t understand why Stevie of all people would make him itch. This was his best friend, his best pal, and James shouldn’t feel anything but happy around Steve. Comfortable. Home. Not having to fight the instinct to go of the offensive every time he saw that damn shield. 

It was frustrating and disheartening and even thought it waned a little more every day, James still hated it. It was just another reminder that he wasn’t Bucky anymore, that there were parts of him Steve would never know and never understand. 

Tony knew those parts though.

Tony knew him. 

Tony knew James. 

“Buck?” Steve asked, soft and a little hurt but trying hard to hide it. “Do you feel like that with me?” 

“I don’t have to pretend with you, Stevie.” James clenched his left fist just to prove it and the beer bottle shattered in his palm, spilling glass all over. “Don’t gotta be careful when we wrestle or worry about sayin’ the wrong thing or keeping up on all the technology. But–” 

“–but there’s a whole bunch about you I don’t know anymore.” Steve finished resignedly. “And a lot about me you don’t know anymore. What happened after you fell changed me and what happened while I was in the ice changed you and I’ve been living one life for three years while you’ve still been putting pieces together…” 

He nodded. “I get it. It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

“Sorry, Stevie.” James closed his eyes and wished and wished and wished that he was still Bucky. Just Bucky. Just good ol’ boy Bucky who pulled Steve out of back alley fights and hid stolen kisses from nameless faces in the dark. 

Life was so much simpler back then…

…simpler and hidden and filled with so much less laughter and love.

James didn’t want to be hidden anymore. Not now that he knew what it felt like to be found. 

From James: Tomorrow Stevie wants to take me to a baseball game, turns out the Yankees still play so we’re gonna get hot dogs and cracker jacks and boo the visiting team like we used to. Would be more fun if you were there. 

From James: Miss ya, sweet thing. 

*************

*************

86% 

“Tony.” Pepper looked up in outright shock along with every other board member who had never seen Tony Stark on time for anything much less for a quarterly board meeting. “Um. Hi?” 

“Don’t mind me, Ms. CEO.” Tony slid into the chair next to Pepper and patted at her knee. “I just figured I could make an appearance for once. As the on-staff mechanic for Stark Industries I am very interested in board meetings. Please continue, don’t let me interrupt.” 

“Al…right.” Pepper blinked at least a thousand times, then cleared her throat and mentioned for the person at the front of the conference room to keep talking. “Sorry for the interruption, please continue.” 

The meeting droned on, and Tony lasted all of two minutes and four seconds before patting at Pepper’s knee again and whispering, “Hey. You’re allergic to strawberries.” 

“Yes.” she whispered back. “Yes, I am but what does that have to do with why you’ve suddenly decided for once in your life to show up for a board meeting?” 

“Because every year I get you something strawberry themed for your birthday.” he leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “Because all I manage to remember is there is something important to you about strawberries but this year, I remembered that you’re allergic and that’s why you always do that cute scrunch nose that means you’re pissed off but trying to be polite.” 

“…you are one hundred percent correct.” 

“And I am one hundred percent sorry for taking like fourteen years to figure it out.” Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, pressed it into Pepper’s palm beneath the table. “But I couldn’t resist buying you one last strawberry.” 

“One last strawberry?” she muttered and Tony nodded. “So this will be the last time you buy me something I’m incredibly and ugly-allergic to? You promise?” 

“I promise this will be the last time–” the very last time. “–I buy you something you’re incredibly allergic to.” Tony swore. “And by the way? You’re never ugly. Not once in your entire life have you been ugly.” 

“I feel like you’re sucking up to compensate for being gone for two weeks with no word.” Pepper hissed, then raised a hand apologetically when several heads swiveled their way. “And another damn strawberry isn’t going to make up for the fact that I’ve been worried sick for– Holy shit, is that real?!” 

Whispering forgotten, Pepper clapped her hand over her mouth when she cursed out loud in the meeting over the sight of this particular strawberry. “Tony Stark what the fuck?!” 

“Uh, forgive us guys.” Tony laughed and put a hand over Pepper’s mouth too. “And I’m just now realizing how embarrassing it is that I don’t know any of your names considering you’ve been my board members for the past twenty years, but you’ll have to excuse the new CEO. Apparently there are some things that do rattle the always unflappable Ms. Potts.” 

“Yeah!” Pepper blurted. “Like when I’ve got my hand on a ridiculously big–” Tony snorted a laugh and Pepper jumped to her feet to drag him out of the board room while calling apologies over her shoulder. 

“Tell me, Ms. Potts.” Tony asked once they were in his her office. “What ridiculously big thing do you have your hand on?” 

“Tony, what is this?” Pepper opened the box again and held up the beautiful huge ring. “Is this a pink diamond? Why–” 

“This is the Strawberry Pink Diamond.” Tony took the ring and slipped it onto Pepper’s middle finger. “It’s out of Brazil. Do you like it?” 

“The last strawberry thing you’re going to buy me is a strawberry diamond?” Pepper’s voice was still doing that high pitched squeaky thing. “Tony, what is this for?” 

“It’s because I love you.” he said simply, and tossed the box onto her desk. “And because the ring was ridiculously over priced which meant I had to have it and I couldn’t think of anyone else who would look half this pretty wearing it.” 

“It’s so big.” For all her practicality, Pepper couldn’t help gaping at the arrangement, at the beautifully pink center diamond and the contrasting blue gems around it. “Tony, seriously what the hell, it’s so big. It’s like an iceberg! I can’t even see where the Titanic hit it! What is this, four carats?” 

“Almost exactly.” Tony smiled to himself watching Pepper smile so big. “Do you like it?” 

“Well I can promise to never complain about strawberries again if this is what you mean!” Pepper flushed in pleasure, holding her hand up to the light to watch the sun sparkle off the stones. “And I’ll also never complain about you disappearing if you always bring me back sparkly things.” 

“The next time I disappear, I’ll bring you back sparkly things.” Tony promised, swallowing around the grief clawing up his throat. “Now how about you step off those sky scrapers you call shoes and give me a kiss so I can go home and shower. The trip back from Brazil was a sweaty one.” 

“You’re disgusting.” Pepper laughed softly and bent down to kiss Tony very gently on the lips. “And I take off my heels for no one, Mr. Mechanic. Not now that I’m the CEO.” 

“That’s my girl.” Tony laughed right back, then picked up her hand and kissed her palm. “The ring looks better on you than it ever did on display in that jewelry store. Keep it. Wear it all the time.” 

“Thank you.” Pepper pulled Tony in for a tight hug. “I’ve been worried about you, are you okay? After you got James together with Captain Rogers you just fell off the map. I’ve been worried.” 

“Well I’m just fine now that I’m squished in your boobs.” Tony mumbled and Pepper jabbed at his side with a quick, “Oh shut up, you don’t even like boobs.” 

“Pepper, everyone likes your boobs.” He countered and she huffed and pushed him away. “How late are you in meetings tonight?” 

“At least another couple hours.” Pepper smoothed the wrinkles from her suit. “And don’t think I don’t see you dodging the question about James. Dinner tonight and we can talk about it?” 

“I owe Rhodey a grossly big steak, but we can have breakfast tomorrow?” 

“Of course. I’ll make you something delicious.” 

“You’ll have donuts with me and not complain when the cream filling splooges on your blouse.” He countered and Pepper sighed. “Love you.” 

“I love you too.” Pepper paused at the board room door and blew him a kiss. “I’m glad you’re home again, Tony.” 

“Me too, Pep. Me too.” 

86%

****************** 

******************

James woke screaming– 

–James woke trying to scream, shredding the blankets between his fists and arching up off the bed and then something pinned him down and he tried to scream louder–

“Bucky!” Steve was shouting at him, grabbing at his arms and laying all his not inconsiderable weight across the other soldier. “Bucky! Wake up! It’s a nightmare, bud! It’s a nightmare, just wake up!” 

It was cold and James was scared. It was cold and he was falling. It was cold and it hurt so bad when they took his arm, when they cut torn tendons and sawed away splintered bone and it was cold when they shoved him into a container and it was cold cold cold as the ice climbed the window and silenced his scream and–

“Bucky.” 

James jerked awake, surged forward and grabbed for Tony, “Tony?!” 

“Hey hey hey, it’s me. It’s Stevie. It’s me.” 

It was blue eyes not dark brown. Blonde hair not soft curls. Mouth set in a grim line instead of lips parted laughing. 

It was Steve, not Tony.

“Stevie.” James fell forward and collapsed into Steve’s arms, let his friend take his weight and soothe his shaking. “Jesus Christ.” 

“What is it?” Steve ran his hands through James’s hair, across the broad shoulders, skittering away from the hard edge of metal to press at James’s back instead. “What was that? Was it like–” he swallowed. “–was it like after Azzano when you had nightmares? About what they did to you at the camp?” 

“No.” 

“Winter Soldier stuff then.” Steve nearly whispered, and James nodded almost imperceptibly into his shoulder. “The– the chair they kept you in? The cryo chamber?” 

“Fuckin’ cold, Stevie.” 

“Yeah.” Steve felt around for a blanket and drew it up around James’s shoulders. “Yeah, I know how that feels.”

They hadn’t really talked about it, about James’s time with Hydra. Steve had confirmed only enough to explain the flashes James got, the tactical knowledge and the way he could measure potential injuries with just a glance. Steve had mentioned the chair, which explained the panic attack in Tony’s lab. He talked about the memory wipes and the cryo freeze and the way they’d used James for decades which is why his memory and concept of time was all over the place. 

Steve hadn’t talked about the missions. He swore on the Bible, on puttin’ flowers on their Ma’s graves, on the time they’d gone on the Cyclone and Stevie had barfed for hours– he swore he hadn’t read the files, promised Natasha had burned them all the ash, told James over and over that it wasn’t about what he’d done as their prisoner, as their captor. It wasn’t even about what had been done to James, it was about him being safe and about him being home. 

So no, they hadn’t really talked about it, nothing more than a few confirmations of James’s fears and then the topic had been dropped. 

Why dwell on the past when they both somehow had a new future? Why stress about all the things they couldn’t control when they finally had the chance to move on?

No, they hadn’t really talked about it, nothing more than just enough to bring James’s nightmares back and Steve felt guilty about it every time. 

“I shouldn’t have told you.” he started and James shook his head, “I needed the answers, Stevie. Needed them. It’s okay.” 

 “You want some hot chocolate?” 

“Want some cheeseburgers.” James grunted. “Want a damn cheeseburger.” 

“Okay where from–” 

“I got a guy.” 

From James: Happy, I need a burger.

From Happy: I’m already a glass of wine deep into my evening and watching my Downton Abby, what in the hell am I supposed to do about that?

From James: I need a CHEESEburger.

From Happy: I’ll call a guy who knows somebody. Give me an hour. 

An hour later there was a polite knock at Steve’s apartment door, and the fanciest dressed delivery guy either of them had ever seen smiled, handed over a greasy bag of cheeseburgers from James’s favorite franchise, then turned on an expensive heel and stalked away. 

“Uh Buck?” Steve held up the bag in confusion. “Why did we get cheeseburgers delivered by some guy in a penguin suit?” 

“Happy knows a guy who knows somebody.” James was freshly showered and feeling better, but he felt better better when he could flop down on the couch and tear into the food. “Have one Stevie, they’re so good.” 

“…what’s with the cheeseburgers?” Steve sat down slowly and reached for one of the paper wrapped sandwiches. “Why does it seem like a big thing?” 

“It’s Tony’s thing.” James explained, wiping ketchup from his mouth. “Or Happy’s thing for Tony, I dunno. Something about how any time Tony’s having a hard time, he wants cheeseburgers and it’s Happy’s job to get them. Pep has a bad day, Happy grabs some cheeseburgers. Rhodey–” 

“Rhodey. You mean Colonel James Rhodes?” 

“–Rhodey.” James nodded. “Rhodey even gets them, and the first time me and Happy hung out, he got ‘em for me too. They make me feel better.” 

“Alright.” Steve took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Buck, you don’t ever talk about Tony. I mean, you talk about him but you never come right out and say anything real. Why not?” 

“Why does it matter?” 

“Cos I watched you hide for years.” Steve said bluntly, and James flushed. “I watched you sneak out way late at night to meet someone and then see the same person in the daylight and act like you’d never seen them before. I watched you dance with the dames just so you didn’t have to stand alone at the wall. I watched you hide and now we’re both here in a time where you don’t have to hide…” 

Steve let the sentence dangle, but James didn’t answer. “M’just sayin’ Buck. The man that showed up here cared an awful lot about you, and I can see it your eyes you care about him. I sorta thought you’d have a damn wedding ring on your finger when you came in, or figured I’d get a hug then you two would run off into the sunset. So why don’t you talk about him?” 

A beat of silence, and Steve added awkwardly, “Is it– I mean, you ain’t ashamed, are you? You don’t have to be ashamed, Buck. I know the neighborhood fellas were real assholes back in the day but it’s okay now, you know? People are okay with all of that now, with fellas liking fellas and– girls– you know.” 

He spread his hands vaguely. “Or anyway, most people are, and we can just punch the ones who aren’t.”  

“M’not ashamed, Stevie.” James denied. “Just uh– “ he chuckled softly. “You know how I used to punch you if you’d come and try to talk to me about Peggy? Figure you’d do the same thing if I told you about how me and Tony get in bed.” 

“I definitely don’t want to hear how you and Howard’s kid are in bed.” Steve immediately objected, and then softer, “But I loved Pegs and I feel like what you and Tony have got is more along those lines too, yeah? So why haven’t you talked to me about him?” 

“Stevie.” James bit at his tongue until it bled– and then healed– as he tried not to think of the dozens of messages he’d sent in the last weeks, the phone calls that hadn’t been answered, the way Pepper had texted to let him know Tony was in Malibu but was buried in some project in the lab and barely talking to anyone, not to take it personally. 

But James was taking it personally because he physically ached to get Tony back in his arms. Because every morning he woke up in Steve’s spare bedroom instead of Tony’s bed felt awful. Because he felt like he was hiding away again instead of being free in the pure sunshine that was Tony’s smile. 

He was miserable and maybe even a little heart broken and missed Tony until he hurt from it. 

Steve was his best friend but Tony had found him.

“He found me, Stevie.” James whispered and the Captain stilled next to him. “Tony he– he found me. I was nothing and I was nobody and Tony saw me from across the room and found me. I didn’t even know my last name or how long I’d been homeless or what the hell I was doing in D.C. and Tony didn’t care. He found me and he saw me. He saw me.” 

“He gave me a home.” James opened and closed his left hand, silver fingers gleaming. “Put me back together. My body, my heart– hell Stevie, I think he gave me my mind back.” 

“So why haven’t you talked about him?” Steve pressed. “Buck if he found you and gave you a home why aren’t you two goin’ after a happily ever after together? Been long enough in the making, don’t you want it?” 

“Course I want it, but Tony hasn’t talked to me since he brought me here.” James tightened his fingers into a fist. “He’s not answering my calls, he’s not getting my texts and I don’t know what’s going on. Sure seems like what I want and what he wants are different things.” 

“No way.” Steve denied. “No way. He probably just figured we’d need the time to catch up. Seventy years apart makes for a lot of conversation, Buck. Maybe Tony thinks he’s doing you a favor or is bein’ subtle so it’s not awkward if you decide you want to stay here or whatever.” 

“There’s nothing subtle about Tony.” James disagreed. “Nothing subtle or tactful or– or anything like that, not when he’s being funny, not when he’s being nice. Hell Stevie, the first time we were together he sat me down and just told me he wanted to take me to bed, or wanted me to take him to bed, whichever I preferred. He told off some high and mighty politician who looked at me wrong and I– I know he’s sick.” 

“I know he’s sick.” James finished on a sigh. “That’s why I’m so worried. He’s probably at the doctors at the hospital and ditched me here with you so I wouldn’t have to see him go through it. He lied to me about it all the time and I can’t even be made about it cos he was doing it so I wouldn’t worry. Me and Ms. Potts and Rhodey and Happy.” 

“So he’s not being subtle about letting you stay here, he’s being pretty damn obvious that you should stay here.” Steve clarified. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s it.” James’s pale eyed dimmed in distress. “Half of me thinks I should show up and force him to talk to me. The other half knows I should let him work through it how he wants. I’m just worried. I had enough of watchin’ you almost die every winter Stevie, I don’t want to do it with Tony too.”

“…exactly how sick is Tony?” Steve asked slowly. “Cos I over heard Fury and Natasha talking about him the other day and they sounded worried too.” 

“I don’t like Fury, Steve. He’s got too many secrets.”

“Yeah, even his trench coat’s got secrets, I know.” Steve pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “And I dunno why he was talking about Tony, but let’s just call and ask. No worries. We’ll figure it out.” 

No worries, Steve said like there wasn’t anything strange about a man like Fury talking with a woman like Natasha about Tony. 

No worries, Steve said like James could ignore the uncomfortable that had crawled down his spine the first time Fury had shown up and looked him over with his one good eye and made an unimpressed noise in his throat while patting at his gun with his free hand.

No worries, Steve said like James had been able to sleep at all the last several  weeks knowing Tony was out there who knows where and alone and ignoring calls and messages–

“Captain Rogers. I thought you’d be too busy with your boyfriend to report in for duty.” 

“I’m not reporting in for duty.” Steve said blandly, and then almost belatedly, “Oh and Buck isn’t my boyfriend. Sheesh. No we wanna know why you and Nat were talking about Tony the other day. Bucky hasn’t heard from him in a few weeks.” 

“No one has heard from Stark in a few weeks.” Fury answered shortly. “The guy’s been finalizing his will and naming beneficiaries and spending the last couple weeks sight seeing everything the world has to offer. You can’t expect a dying man to keep up on text messages.” 

Silence in the apartment, and Steve turned wide, horrified eyes to James. 

“…what did he say.” James whispered in disbelief. “What did he say about Tony dying?” 

“Director can you repeat–” 

“Romanov gave him a shot in the neck the day he barged into your life, but it wasn’t meant to last long term. You telling me the world’s best soldier and your best friend Mega Scary Assassin didn’t notice the black lines all over his chest and crawling up his neck?” 

“Tony is dying?” 

“Palladium poisoning thanks to that battery in his chest.” Fury had the good grace to at least sound somewhat apologetic about dropping the news so unexpectedly. “Rogers, Barnes, I really thought you two knew. Figured you were giving him space to die in peace.” 

Silence silence silence and then the sound of something breaking and Fury waited a beat before asking, “You still there?” 

“I need transportation to Malibu for Buck!” Steve sounded like he was running now, breathing hard as he pounded down the stairs and out of his apartment building. “I need it now! Something fast!” 

“Pick up location?” Fury asked over the noise of horns honking and someone screaming in alarm. “Rogers? Where are you and Barnes?” 

“Bucky took off running down the goddamn freeway.” Steve shouted. “He’s going too fast for me to keep up–” 

“–Shit, I didn’t think anyone could outrun your spangled ass–” 

“–I need a craft for pick up as soon as possible! Give me an ETA!” 

“I can have something airborne from HQ in two minutes. What’s his current position?” 

“Running along the top of the bus past the bridge at fourth?” 

“Oh motherfuck–” 

*************

************* 

“Sir?” 

Tony’s hands were shaking as he picked up the blood monitor, and he hissed in pain when his nearly fried nerves lit up in agony over the tiny prick. 

“Sir, if I could interrupt?” 

“Jesus Christ.” Tony’s legs gave out and he slumped back into a nearby chair, one hand over his heart, the other clutched tight around the monitor. “J– what– what–” 

He was panting, sweating, hardly able to take a breath without his chest seizing, the black lines at the reactor and his neck trailing down his arms and almost to his fingers now. His vision went blurry if he stared for more than a few minutes, he was constantly thirsty and damn near dehydrated and the little bit of food he’d managed the last few nights had ended with him stumbling back to the bathroom and vomiting until stars burst behind his temples. 

He was so scared. 

“J–” 

“Sir, Sergeant Barnes is on his way up the drive.” 

“…what?” 

“A distinctly non civilian air craft dropped him off in the street and he is up the steps and nearly at the door. Should I allow him in?” 

“Please…” Tony’s head lolled back as he tried to breathe. “J, please–” 

“Tony?” A shout from upstairs and pounding footsteps as the soldier ran down the stairs to the lab. “Tony? Sweet thing?” 

“Thank god.” Tony managed only a glimpse of pale blue eyes and silver fingers before his vision went black. “James–” 

“Tony!” 

…The blood monitor slipped out of Tony’s hand and fell to floor flashing a steady ninety-one percent.

…91% and when James reached for Tony, the beautiful brunette was too cold, too still, barely breathing.

…“Tony?” 

91%

**************

Chapter Notes: 

Tony sits still for 2 mins and 4 seconds because the IM2 run time is 2 hours, 4 mins. 

I didn’t want to skip the strawberry part of the movie, but I like my version better. THIS is Pepper’s ring and honestly, I totally want one. 

I grew up watching WWF/WWE and I will probably watch it till the day I die. 

We made a purposeful decision to avoid any CACW related angst in this fic. The idea that who James/Bucky IS will always be more important than who he was, what was done to him/what they made him do and I think everyone deserves to be seen as a person first and foremost instead of their list of past mistakes and/or trauma. 

That being said, 91% is a reference to 1991, the year the MCU WS ruined Tony’s life but in this verse, the number where James comes to his rescue. 

Chapter Text

Tony thought he was dreaming when James picked him up from the chair and cradled him up close, thought he was outright hallucinating when cool lips pressed a kiss to his forehead and a hoarse voice whispered, “Fuckin’ hell, sugar. What is happening to you?” 

Somewhere out there in a haze of pain JARVIS instructed James on how to fill a syringe with a slightly less-than-legal pain killer and Tony barely twitched when it stung against his skin and liquid heat poured through his veins, his mind settling and pain easing and…thoughts…slowing…down…

“Tony.” 

Tony didn’t know how long he’d been out, but when he opened his eyes again he felt normal, or at least close to what had passed as normal for the past several days. The tour around the world had drained him to the point of constant exhaustion, his mind compromised to near incoherence, and the pain meds didn’t even take it all away. The shot only dulled the bone deep hurt enough to keep Tony’s mind mostly online, and for right now and until he was out of time, that was all he cared about. 

Tony didn’t want to die out of his mind crazy, too far gone to put a sentence together, in too much pain to function or remain lucid.

But Tony didn’t want to die all by himself either, cold and all alone in a too big house at the end of a too deserted street at the edge of a too uncaring ocean. 

Tony didn’t want to die alone. 

“You’re not alone, sugar. I’m right here.” 

Tony’s eyes snapped open, zeroed in on James sitting at his bed side. The soldier looked haggard, exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, shoulders hunched and hands clasped between his knees and looking like he had no idea what to say to Tony after three weeks apart, after three weeks of missed called and unanswered texts, after three weeks of waiting only to find Tony almost gone. 

James didn’t look like he knew what to say, and Tony didn’t know what to say either, so he just didn’t say anything at all. 

It was the most difficult thing in the world to stumble out of bed and make it towards the bathroom, but Tony didn’t say anything about it and neither did James. The soldier just held out his hand long enough to keep Tony steady, then let it fall away, and hung his head again. 

What were they supposed to say?

The man in the bathroom mirror staring back at Tony was practically a shadow– thin and pale, hair hanging limp around a sallow face, lips chapped and eyes dulled from the pain medication. The robe hung loose around a gaunt frame, fingers trembled where they grasped at the sink and for a single, terrifying moment Tony didn’t recognize the man in the mirror and then in a split second of hysteria wondered whose life he was living because this couldn’t be his, not way, not Tony Stark, it couldn’t be Tony Stark who was looking in the mirror and then out in the bedroom and wondering if he was hallucinating or if what he thought he was seeing was actually was he was actually actually seeing…

Actually actually seeing James. Was James actually actually here?

James.

… James?

Am I dead yet?

“Are you really here?” Tony propped himself up against the frame of the bathroom door because it was the only thing keeping him on his feet, held onto the doorknob with fingers that couldn’t quite close in a fist. “Are you– is this–” 

He smacked too dry lips. “Are you here here? Or am I seeing things again.” 

“I–” James cleared his throat and tried to talk, but it didn’t work so he cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m right here, Tony. I’m here. You’re not alone.” 

“Jesus.” Tony scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “I uh– what are you– how are you–” 

He shook his head, grimaced. “Sorry, the meds make me– I’m here.” he tapped at his temple. “But not–it’s slow. Everything is slow. How are you here? Why are you here?” 

James’s throat jerked as he swallowed, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he ground his teeth together, trying to find words or explanations or anything that would get them through all the terrible explanations and questions and right to the point of being able to hold each other. 

God he wanted to hold Tony but Tony looked so weak and James was scared but he was also so fuckin’ angry. 

So fuckin’ angry and so hurt about the lies and the hiding and so goddamn scared because Tony was so goddamn weak.

“You knew you were dying.” He started slowly, working hard to keep the devastation from his voice. “Didn’t tell me or Ms. Potts or Rhodey, right? Knew you had limited time and that’s why you told me– when we met in the diner you said the offer to make me a new arm was going, going, gone. Was that some sorta sick joke?” 

“It wasn’t a joke.” Tony plucked at the tie of his robe, wanting to cringe away from the hardness in James’s tone but not able to muster the energy. “It was just– c’mon. You’ve seen how I deal with tough stuff, James. I– I– I–” 

“S’why you wanted to find out who I was so bad.” James looked up at the ceiling like JARVIS would validate his thought. “You wanted to find my family so I wouldn’t be alone after you left. It’s why you went to D.C. to find Stevie.” 

“Yeah I thought you and he–” Even swallowing hurt, and Tony tried not to flinch when his throat lit up raw. “I thought– you know, shared trauma. And pasts. No one has a shared past like you and Captain Rogers do.” 

“You found out about me being–” James pursed his lips. “About Hydra? What they did to me?” 

“Had notes from Howard and from Auntie Peggy.” Tony put a hand to the reactor and pressed hard as it so he could breathe without it shifting in his chest. “Pretty easy to put two–” god it was hard to breathe. “–to put two and two together–once I knew who you were. It’s sad but it’s– it’s in the past, right? We can– you can– move on.” 

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, of the 107th.” James said dully. “Bucky Barnes, right? You found out who I was and dumped me on the first person who’d want me and then left me alone?” 

“James.” Tony tried for a smile, and failed. “Or–or Bucky. Bucky. D-Didn’t dump you on anyone. Reunited you and your best pal, best friend. Captain Rogers and–and–” breathe. breathe. breathe, damn it. “–Sergeant Barnes are as American as apple pie and peanut butter and jelly. You belong together.” 

“I belong with you!” There was the anger, flaring hot and bright as James jumped to his feet and the chair clattered over behind him. “Damn it, Tony! I belong here with you! I should have been here with you when you needed me!” 

“James–” Tony closed his eyes when his vision swam. “Um– Bucky–” 

“My name is James!” the soldier shouted and Tony stumbled away from it, away from the anger and the hurt and the betrayal in those beautiful eyes. “My name is James and you know that because you know me! You know me, Tony! You know me and you–you found me–” 

One step forward, then two and then three and the anger fell away as suddenly as it appeared. James went down to his knees in front of Tony, wrapped both arms around that too thin waist and clutched him tight, clutched him desperately. “You found me, Tony. You found me and then you left me and what was I supposed to do?” 

“S’posed to re-unite with the Captain and ride off…into the sunset together.” Tony shuddered and nearly collapsed, slumping forward onto James and resting unsteadily on those broad shoulders. “You were supposed to– James, I found who you were. I tried to make sure you were okay.” 

“I’m only okay with you.” James gripped at Tony’s hips, ran his hands up to feel bony ribs. “Tony, you were just gonna go off and die alone? Let the poison ruin ya? Sugar, sweet thing, how could you think I wouldn’t want to be here with you? Three weeks. Three weeks I’ve been waitin’ for you to call me and then I find you like this? Tony, why?” 

He reached up with his left hand and tore the robe away, shredded the thick material and threw it over his shoulder and then pushed his face into Tony’s stomach to muffle a sob when he saw the ugly black crawling beneath Tony’s skin. It looked like scars but so much worse, like cracks in china, like death under porcelain, like tar spoiling something pure and perfect and his. 

“Babydoll.” James got to his feet and buried his fingers into Tony’s hair, brought him in for a careful careful kiss, spread his left hand as far as it would reach over the poison so he could protect Tony, protect his heart. “Babydoll, why did you send me away?” 

“I’m sorry.” Tears then, falling from Tony’s eyes and trickling down his cheek to mingle in another kiss and then another, his lips numb from the medication and heart pounding beneath James’s palm when his legs finally gave out and the soldier caught him up into a hug. “And I–I missed you– I– I missed–” 

The smaller brunette made sound like his very core was splitting as Tony finally let himself admit– “I’m so scared. James I’m so scared, I’m so s-scared.”

“I’m scared too but I’m here now.” James wiped away tears and kissed away a quiet sob. “Sweet thing, I’m here. We’re gonna figure this out. We got it, Tony. We’ll figure it out, I promise. Just don’t send me away. Don’t hide from me, okay? Okay?” 

“…I think it’s too late.” Tony clung to James, half grateful for his presence, half terrified that this would be the last time, the very last time. “Shit I– I think it’s too late. I waited too long cos I couldn’t figure out how to fix it and now it’s too late.” 

“We will figure it out.” James repeated, firmer. “Tony, you found me.” He wound their fingers tight and pushed their foreheads together. “You found me and you know me and for the first time in my entire life I don’t gotta hide, not when I’m with you. I don’t gotta hide who I am or who I love–” 

Tony sucked in a shocked, ragged breath and James only pressed tighter to him, held him closer and tried so hard to breathe adoration into every word.

“Don’t gotta hide who I love anymore, sweet thing.” He murmured. “So don’t hide from me. Don’t hide from me, not your being sick or how awful it is or bad you hurt or– or nothin’ else alright? No more. Please. Please?” 

“N-no more hiding.” Tony managed and James kissed him soft and slow and achingly tender. “Promise.” 

“I love you.” James said it for real then, and it was the most beautiful thing Tony had ever heard whispered into his ear and mouthed into his hair and down across his cheek to his mouth,. “Sweet thing, I love you. And m’not lettin’ you go anytime soon. I swear it. I swear it. You’re mine sugar. Took me seventy years t’find ya and I’m not letting ya go, not for nothin’.” 

“God, I love when you talk all Brooklyn for me.” Tony tried to laugh, tried to smile, but instead he just pushed his face into James’s neck and shook through a body racking sigh. “But I don’t know if–I mean what if it’s too late?” 

“You’re a goddamn genius, babydoll.” the soldier said firmly, stroked purposefully over Tony’s thready pulse then left a featherlight kiss over the same spot. “You built that lab downstairs, built me an arm, figured out how to do the whole super hero thing. Invent something, sugar. Create somethin’ to fix this.” 

“James–” 

“But more than all that, you found me when I had no chance of finding myself.” James interrupted. “And I found you when I thought I’d never have anything ever again. So let’s do this together. Find a way to fix this and get towards a happily ever after.” 

“Happily ever after.” Tony felt the first spark of hope in weeks. “You– you think?” 

“I think I can’t wait to go and get lost with you on the beach somewhere at sunset.” James tipped Tony’s chin up carefully carefully so he could look deep into his eyes. “And I’ll help with whatever I can to make sure that happens. You just tell me and I’ll do it, sugar. Whatever it takes. I’m here and we’ll figure it out.” 

And then quieter, “And if it doesn’t work, I’m gonna be here anyway. You’re not doing this alone. Not again, not anymore. M’here, sweet thing. Don’t hide from me.” 

“O-okay.” Tony finally nodded, relief making his breath catch in a half sob. “Okay, let’s figure it out.” 

“And then we’ll get lost together.” 

“And–and then we’ll get lost together.” he nodded again and pressed close to his soldier. “… I love you.” 

“I love you too.” James swept his mouth along the shell of Tony’s ear and gathered him as close as he dared, soothing the shivers with his warmth and hiding his own tears in Tony’s hair. “I love you too.” 

***************

Chapter Notes: 

I kept this one short just to not take away from the impact of the moment. Nothing like that very first ‘I Love You’, right?

Chapter Text

The next morning James woke to the welcome sight of sunrise and ocean through the bedroom windows, rolled over to pull Tony gently gently back into his arms and start their morning off with a kiss or half dozen–

–and found nothing but cold sheets and a long abandoned pillow. 

“JARVIS?!” 

“The lights have been on in the downstairs laboratory for several hours now, Sergeant Barnes.” 

“It’s just James.” he swung his feet over the side of the bed and rubbed at his eyes. “Just James. Not Sergeant Barnes anymore. Is Tony okay?” 

“He’s already taken a dose of pain management medication and is hard at work.” 

“He should be resting.” James grabbed for his clothes and headed out the door. “Coffee?” 

“Caffeine makes the symptoms of the poisoning worse, so the only thing available is decaf.” 

“So long as it’s warm.” James paused to get a second shirt to wrap Tony up in because last night the beautiful brunette had shivered and shivered and shivered no matter how tight James held him. “Thank you, JARVIS.” 

“A pleasure.” and then, “It’s good to have you home again, sir.” 

“Good to be home.” James poured a thermos-ful of the hot decaf, tossed the shirt over his shoulder and hurried down the steps to the lab. “Tony? Babydoll, you in here?” 

“Always.” Tony looked up with a smile that thrilled James right to his soul, even if it was a smile only a fraction as brilliant as they used to be. “What time did you wake up?” 

“Just now.” James put the coffee down on the table, then held up the shirt and slipped it over Tony’s head, down over his arms without trying to put Tony’s hands through, effectively wrapping him a cocoon. The long sleeve was huge on him, hanging off the too thin frame and making Tony look tiny and vulnerable and James swallowed a twist of fear so he could carefully carefully draw Tony into his arms and hold him close. 

Three months together had been a lifeline for James, which meant the three weeks apart felt like a lifetime without Tony, and the days of missed calls and unread text messages rang hollow in James’s mind right alongside the echo of nightmares and the questions of why why why Tony had walked away. 

“I thought you’d still be in bed.” He said instead of all the other things he wanted to say, swallowing back the rush of questions and demands and forcing himself to slow down because they didn’t have much time left and he didn’t want to waste it being upset. “Is everything okay?” 

Over Tony’s shoulder an old video reel was playing on a projector, Howard from sometime in the past but some time past when James had known him. A model city was on the table in the background, a glass of alcohol held in Howard’s right hand and a cigar in the other as he mouthed along to a muted soundtrack. 

“Why are you watching movies about Howard?” James asked, and Tony muffled his answer into the sweater and over James’s heart–

“I love you.” 

“Shit.” Uneasiness and the list of questions immediately forgotten, James dropped a kiss onto Tony’s hair, onto his cheek and then his nose. “I love you too, Tony.” 

“And I’m bad at this.” Tony hugged his arms around his midsection beneath the shirt. “I um– I’m really bad at this. At apologies and at relationships and I– I’ve never said I love you to anyone so I’m probably bad at that too.” 

“Sugar–” 

“M’really bad at stopping to see the moments that matter.” Tony was half woozy, unsteady on his feet as the pain meds soaked into his system and dulled his reflexes. “Fuckin’ awful at being present for important things and this morning– I should’a stayed in bed with you this morning. I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” 

“Missed you but I had to work.” Tony pushed closer, sagged closer really, and James quieted a curse when he felt how weak Tony’s pulse was. “Hadta work cos last night you told me to invent something to fix all this–” 

“Tony, I didn’t mean to make you feel–” 

“–Fury told me Dad left something for me.” Tony shook his head just weakly when James tried to interrupt. “Said Howard told him I’d be the one to invent what it took to make his idea a reality.”

“Sweetheart, you need to rest.” 

“I need to rest.” Tony admitted. “I need– need sleep. But I don’t want to miss a chance to fix this. Don’t want to miss the chance for another–” he seemed to wilt when James kissed his forehead. “–another day with you. But I need help. I need help, will you help me?” 

“I can help you.” James promised. “What do you need me for?” 

“My hands.” Tony finally got his arms through the long sleeves and held up his hands for James to see the constant tremble in his fingers. “I was okay first thing this morning but now I can’t even hold a cup of coffee. Need you to be my hands.” 

“Hell, I can do that.” James leaned away far enough to brush the hair from Tony’s eyes, touching over the too sharp cut of Tony’s cheekbone. “I can do that all day. You made me a perfectly working left hand remember?” 

“I remember trying out just how perfectly your left hand gets the job done.” Tony agreed, and with nothing more than a smile and a tired lift of his eyebrows the moment went from sweet to roiling with innuendo. “I remember finding out I’ve got a sorta– sorta arm porn-slash-metal finger kink.” 

“Sugar.” James chuckled at him and captured Tony’s mouth in a kiss that started out heated but cooled to just tender when Tony’s body went limp with exhaustion. 

“Sugar.” James whispered it this time, carding his fingers into Tony’s hair and then smoothing down his back. “Don’t worry. We’ll find time to indulge your ah– what’d’ya call it? Arm porn?” 

“Slash metal finger kink.” Tony confirmed, and he was smiling again but his dark eyes glittered in relief, then in apology.  “James–” 

“Tell me what you need help with.” James changed the subject before Tony started apologizing for not being able to kiss properly, as if James could possibly be upset about that when it was Tony’s very life on the line. “What can I do?” 

“Okay.” There it was again, visible relief, and James’s heart clenched uncomfortably with the thought of just how many times Tony had put his own personal needs aside to give someone else– the press, his parents, the world– what they wanted. “Here’s– here’s what I need.” 

The model at the far side of the laboratory was huge, easily twelve feet tall and must have weighed several hundred pounds. Idly, James wondered just how Tony had managed to get the thing inside the lab, but he didn’t bother asking, too busy pulling down the coverings and dragging lights over to illuminate the piece. 

“What is it?” He asked once JARVIS started scanning the surface of the model. “Roads and– and houses? Is that a giant pretzel stand? What is this?” 

“Remember when we were at the Expo and talking about elements and how they were creating new ones all the time?” 

“Yeah, you said they create with a…” James turned in time to catch Tony injecting himself with a syringe. “…with a bang…Tony, what is that?” 

“Lithium Oxide.” Tony bent over and groaned when the liquid hit his system, clutching at his stomach until the worst of the initial spasms had eased. 

“You’re injecting yourself with poison?!” 

“It’s uh–” Tony gasped out a few breaths and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “You um– do you know why you know it’s poison?” 

“Dunno the exact reason why I know it.” James hurried to Tony’s side and helped him sit. “But I know the reasons behind why I know it. Stevie didn’t wanna talk too much and neither did I. I learned just enough to explain the worst of my nightmares and then we let it go.” 

“Stevie told you, huh?” Tony repeated, and hissed out a harsh breath between clenched teeth. “Are you mad at me for not telling you?” 

“When did you find out?” James held up the coffee cup, held Tony’s hands steady so he could help him take a sip. “Before ya left me with Stevie? After?” 

“Just a few hours before.” Tony nodded towards one of the fold down screens. “I– I was running that facial recognition software on you?” James inclined his head in agreement. “And one thing connected to another and I ended–” 

He bent over and coughed as the lithium surged into his extremities and the feeling came rushing back. “–ended up connecting back to you from one of your sister’s grandkids. As soon as I figured it out, I called Fury and met with Steve.” 

“You knew about Stevie already?” 

“There’s not a lot that goes on in the world that JARVIS doesn’t know about.” The color was back in Tony’s skin now, his eyes almost unnaturally bright as his body reset. “And back before Afghanistan I used to hack into DOD files just for something to do on a Tuesday night. Came across Project Rebirth and decided I didn’t have time in my life for glitter tight wearing propaganda, so I ignored it.” 

Tony’s speech was already better, the words clearer and enunciation sharper and James hated it, hated it as he crouched down in front of the chair, smoothed his thumbs over Tony’s face. “Tony.” he closed his eyes briefly. “Tony, lithium oxide is poison. I know you think you’re feelin’ better right now, but it’s poison babydoll.” 

“And it’s enough of a jolt to keep me lucid.” Tony held onto both of James’s wrists and leaned into his palms. “Enough to keep my mind working and I need it if I’m going to figure out a fix for all of this.” 

He wet his lips, swallowed. “And even if it doesn’t help me figure out how to fix this, the shots will keep me aware long enough to enjoy the last few days with you, alright?” 

“Tony.” 

“It’s not like it’s going to kill me any faster.” Tony cut in at a barely audible whisper and James’s gaze blurred with tears. “It can’t kill me any faster so it’s worth it for a few more days. It’s worth it.” 

“Okay.” James pushed their foreheads together and breathed out slowly, both hating and loving that the tremble in Tony’s fingers had almost disappeared, that his love’s voice was steadier and the kiss they shared was whole heartedly promising. “But as soon as you figure all this out, you’re gonna stop right?” 

“Yeah Brooklyn.” Tony sighed and he almost sounded normal. “Soon as I’m not dying, I’ll stop willingly poisoning myself. I promise.” James huffed a quiet laugh and budged closer, and Tony asked cautiously, “Should we talk about you and Captain Rogers? About what he told you and what I found out?” 

“Stevie told me you and him decided to not look into what I did.” James tipped his head down so Tony would tug at his hair, turned his head and nuzzled at Tony’s palm. “He said you wanted to look at me and see me, not what I did.” 

“Or what was done to you.” Tony finished. “Yeah. I know what it’s like to have people look at you and only see your past, know what it’s like to have people look and only see who they expect you to be. Captain Rogers understands it too. It’s okay.” 

“What if I did something really bad, Tony?” James whispered. “What if it comes back t’me in a nightmare or something? What if one day I remember the missions?” 

“Then we’ll work through it like we worked through the panic attacks and like we’re working through this.” Tony said firmly, and then with a light jerk at James’s hair and a teasing grin, “Minus shots of poison and my particular brand of self destruction.” 

“That’s not funny.” James scolded, but he smiled when Tony bumped their noses together. “S’good to see you smiling again, Tony. I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” 

For a minute they were just quiet, just breathing each other in, wrapped up and sharing the same air, the past three weeks of absence melting away as their hearts pulled close like they’d done from that very first day in the diner. 

There were years worth of questions to answer, trauma to sift through and nightmares that were sure to come along. They had to figure out how to fix Tony, how to move forward knowing what they knew about James’s past, how to incorporate another person into their relatively low key life because making room for Steve wasn’t a question of if, only a question of how often.

How often would James’s old room would be used as a landing pad for the Captain? Could Tony’s wallet could take the brunt of the upcoming grocery bill that would come with the care of feeding of two super soldiers? Would he survive Steve’s utterly terrible sense of humour and lack of subtlety?

The question of why Tony had left James with Steve was easy enough to answer– the man was a self sacrificing idiot who would do anything at all for the people he loved, including removing himself from the picture. 

The question of whether or not James would ever let Tony be so self sacrificing again wasn’t a question at all. 

The answer was no. Not ever. Not with Steve miraculously back in his life, not with all the years of other answers James wasn’t sure he wanted to find, not with Hydra still around, and not when Tony was so close to gone.

The answer was no. James would never let Tony put himself through anything like this ever again. Not alone. Not without him. 

“…should I call you Bucky now?” Tony broke the silence first, but he didn’t pull away, their lips brushing when he spoke. “That’s what Steve calls you. His Bucky. And now that you know who you were, the Sergeant and all that, should I call you Bucky?” 

“Steve only calls me Bucky cos the first day we met I told him to quit howlin’ over a bloody nose and ‘buck up’.” James chuckled quietly over the memory. “Stevie sassed that I was named after th’worst president ever, maybe I should buck up. It was a joke between us, other people caught on, next thing I know I got half th’world callin’ me Bucky. Dumb kid just about ruined my life.” 

“So not Bucky then?” Tony jostled him, and James leaned in for a sweet kiss and whispered, “Hell sugar, you can call me whatever you want, but I sure do love th’way you say James when you’re laughin’ with me, or lit up all excited talkin’ about things…”

“…or when you want me real bad.” he finished in a half growl. “Call my name and pull me in’ta you real deep.” 

“Shit.” Tony flushed dark red, heart rate doubling in the next quick breath. “Yeah? You like that?” 

“Course I really love when ya call me Brooklyn.” James murmured thickly. “You could always call me that. Brooklyn. Soldier. Yours. Whatever you want, Tony. Just call me yours.” 

“They don’t make boys like you anymore.” Tony’s head fell back when James mouthed over his pulse. “Do they?” 

“Nah, babydoll. I’m real vintage.” James winked and predictably, Tony blushed all over again. “Now tell me how I can help you with that big model over there. Let’s get it done so we can get down to the beach together.” 

“The beach.” Tony nodded, gave himself just one more minute to be up close to his soldier, then pulled away. “Okay. So the Expo. They create elements with a bang, right?” 

“Right.”

“I’ve ran all the tests.” Tony tapped a few keys and his screens lit up with past recorded simulations, a holographic man on the screen miming inserting an arc reactor, then crumpling to his knees and fading away. James grimaced, and Tony nodded, “Yeah, not a great visual. But I tried everything, James. Every known element, every combination of elements that wouldn’t end in me exploding. I did it all and there is no sustainable element on earth that can replace the palladium in the reactor core.” 

“Okay.” James couldn’t help needing to touch Tony, leaned over and pushed the long sleeves off Tony’s hands so he could hold them. “So what do we do?” 

“That right there.” Tony lifted their hands and pointed at the diorama. “That’s Howard’s model of his Expo. I used to race my toy cars up and down the roads, I picked up a few trees and moved them, I think I might have set one of the popcorn stands on fire to use as a jump for my monster trucks. He hated when I played with it, but then he left it with SHIELD to give to me at some point in the future.” 

“Why?” James looked over his shoulder at the huge model, and smiled just a tiny bit thinking of Tony being pint sized and an actual terror frustrating the hell out of Howard. He’d never liked the guy anyway. “Why’d he want you to have it?” 

“I know you were in school way before they taught about the building blocks of creation and how there are so many smaller things inside cells and atoms and all that.” Tony looked down at his hands looking tiny inside of James’s grip. “But you remember models of the solar system.” 

“Spinny things all revolvin’ around the sun.” James answered promptly. “Sure.” 

“Okay that?” another motion at the model. “Is the model for a solar system that’s actually an element.” 

“What?” 

“A brand new element Howard knew could theoretically exist, but not in his lifetime.” Tony’s smile was almost wistful. “Not with the tech he had available. So he created an entire city in the Stark Expo and it’s a model of his element.” 

“And?” James held his breath. “And it’s one you can create?” 

“Not just one I can create.” Tony’s smile grew a little more. “It’s the one that was set to solve the eventual instability issues with Dad’s reactor. The big one that’s helped power Stark Industries since the seventies has an expiration date of about fifty years, but it’s not much more than a publicity stunt meant to appease the environmentalists. I think all it actually does is run some fans on the fourth floor so no one cared about what might happen fifty years in the future. Howard cared though, he knew the big one needed stability, so he created an element to sustain it.” 

“This one.” Tony plinked at the reactor casing. “This one that’s powering me puts out close to ten times the amount of energy which means it’s gonna expire about ten times faster.” 

“But the element your Dad created?” James looked at the model, then down at Tony’s reactor. “It can fix you?” 

“Can theoretically clean me.” Tony corrected. “If I can synthesize it and replace the palladium core, it could pretty much erase the poison in my blood. JARVIS ran some tests this morning and it could be as easy as a few days of downtime to recover and I’ll be fine.” 

“I said a few weeks of downtime, sir. A few weeks, and I cannot stress that enough.” 

“A few weeks of downtime.” Tony corrected with a grin up towards his ceiling. “James, do you know what a super collider is?” 

“Sounds like a car crash, sugar.” 

“If atoms were cars, sure.” Tony got to his feet with James’s help and pointed towards a sledge hammer. “I want you to take that and break a hole in the wall everywhere I have an ‘x’ marked. Don’t worry about the debris, we’ll clean it up later. Then I’ve got a bunch of pipe we need to weld together, some most likely sketchy wiring I fit up and we are going to make a super collider. Basically a giant race track for atoms and when we get them going fast enough, we’re gonna crunch them together and see what comes out of the explosion.” 

“We’re gonna do that here?” James hefted the sledge like it was nothing. “In your lab?” 

“Trust me, I’ve built and then blown up much crazier stuff in here.” Tony waved off his concern. “A super collider barely makes the top ten list. Hammer, wall, right over the ‘x’ please.” 

“Sure babydoll.” James had about a billion questions about super colliders and how sick Tony really was and how long it would honestly take for the palladium to leave his system and seriously, what sort of crazy things had Tony built in here? 

But he ignored them all because right now Tony was smiling and the flush in his cheeks was beautiful and his mind was sharp, even if it was thanks to a bump of self inflicted poison. 

Right now Tony was smiling, so James rolled his shoulders and shook his left arm a few times then clenched up his fist and punched straight through eight inches of solid wall, through the reinforced steel plates that kept any explosions contained to the lab, and through the concrete foundation post Tony had sank into the ground to keep the lab steady if the Malibu house ever washed into the ocean. 

“Jesus.” Tony’s eyes sparked bright, his mouth falling open when James pulled his hand back and brushed off the dust. “Look at you. When did you figure out you were so strong?” 

“When Stevie tried to wrestle me and I put him through the wall, out the balcony and halfway into the next building.” James said nonchalantly. “Fury sure wasn’t happy about cleaning up that mess.” 

“Well Punchy McGee.” Tony jerked his thumb towards the next spot on the wall. “Get to it. And why don’t you take off your shirt too, so I have something pretty look at.” 

James laughed at him, too happy to hear Tony flirting again to let himself worry that the temporary reprieve was only due to the lithium oxide. The shirt came up and off and tossed away, James flexed probably a little more than necessary when he picked up the sledge again, and Tony clapped his hands in outright delight when he got to watch all those muscles move as James swung towards the wall. 

“I guarantee more people would get into the sciences if their workspaces came with motivations like this.” Tony’s hands still trembled just a tiny bit as he took the requisite smoothie from Dum-E and patted the robot idly. “I’d create new elements all day if you did it half naked.” 

“I’ll do whatever you want wearing whatever you want so long as you get better, Tony.” James picked up one of the massive pieces of pipe, and Tony came over with his torch. “Where do you want this one?” 

“Hold it right here for me and try not to get burned.” Tony fired up the torch and flipped sunglasses down over his eyes. “I’m aware my safety equipment is next to none, but I’d hate for you to get burn marks and scars that match mine.” 

“Don’t think I scar much these days, sugar.” James grunted as the pipe got hot but didn’t let it go until Tony was satisfied with the weld job. “You sure it’s not weird about me? About us? With my past?” 

“Brooklyn.” Tony propped a chair under the pipe to hold it steady and motioned for James to grab another. “I’m Iron Man, I got to meet Captain America the other day and I’m creating a new element in my basement. Hundred year old super soldier boyfriend fits right into my daily catalog of not-so-normal.” 

“And besides.” Tony looked up with a grin just past devilish. “I hear you good ol’ boys have stamina for days.” 

James laughed out loud at that, and the moment was almost normal for them. The day passed in hours of teasing and then softer, more serious conversation and it was almost normal. Tony’s shaking got bad again around lunch and James took over all the crafting so he wouldn’t take another shot of lithium and Tony pouting when he didn’t get his way was almost normal. 

And that night when their collider was assembled of some legitimate pieces and hobbled together with whatever else Tony found in the lab, when JARVIS lit up the ceiling with a replica of the proposed element and James was straining to turn the laser just right to hit the triangle Tony had painstakingly set up across the room, when the entire basement was shaking with the effort of containing the power of the collider–

–that night everything glowed blue as a new element came to be, and then everything glowed white when James helped Tony replace the piece in his reactor and JARVIS powered it up high enough to blank out the lights in the ceiling. 

“Tastes like coconut.” Tony bent over and coughed as the reactor throttled and surged. “God, coconut and– and metal.” 

“How is it?” James was anxious, pacing and rubbing his hands together and wanting to rush to Tony but not daring to do so when his chest was lit up so bright. “Tony? Okay?” 

“J?” 

“The new core has bonded perfectly with the reactor.” JARVIS intoned, and Tony’s grin was brilliant. “Estimated life usage just shy of one hundred and six years if you continue to use it to power the suits on a daily basis, at least three times that amount if you simply retire like I have been advising you to do for months now. Honestly, sir. A hammock would do wonders for you.” 

“Thank you, J. Your suggestion is noted and noted, and holy hell is your help appreciated. Love you, buddy.” 

“And I am endlessly fond of you, sir.” 

The reactor powered down to sustaining, the glow lessening to the usual blue and the second Tony looked his way, James ran across the room to get to him, hauled him up into a hug, spun him around and crushed a kiss to his mouth. 

“Tonytonytony.” he gasped when Tony kissed him back just as hard. “We did it. You did it, you’re gonna be okay.” 

“I’m gonna be okay.” Tony repeated, and he looked like he barely believed it himself. “Apparently a hammock is necessary for that continued okay though, so we should work on that?” 

“I could sleep in a hammock.” James managed over the threat of grateful tears, one hand framing Tony’s face, the other spread protectively, possessively over the reactor and Tony’s heart. “If that’s what it takes sugar, I’ll sleep there every night with ya. Hammock is a small price to pay to have you back with me.” 

“I’m sorry I left you alone.” Tony leaned into the palm at his chest, let the soldier take his full weight and breathed a sigh of relief when James held him so easily. “I’m sorry I thought the best way to cope was by myself. I kept thinking if I just went away quietly then it wouldn’t be so bad for everyone and I thought if you had Steve again–” 

“Stevie is my best pal.” James interrupted, cutting Tony off when he tried to protest. “Tony, Stevie is my best friend but he’s not you. Not gonna replace you.” 

“James.” 

“Stop apologizin’ for doin’ what you thought was right.” he continued. “And don’t worry about Stevie. I love his dumb ass to death but it’s nothin’ like how I love–” 

He smiled, a little sheepish and a whole lot flirty, “Nothin’ like how I love your ass, babydoll.” 

Tony barked a surprised laugh when he got a grope at his rear after the comment. “Tell me, is this how Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes acted all the time? Halfway earnest and halfway horny?” 

“I dunno.” James moved his hand from the reactor so he could sweep his fingers along Tony’s jaw and then down to the base of his neck, pale eyes sparking playfully. “But I’ve been remembering a few more things from who I used t’be.” 

“Oh yeah?” Tony challenged, and James wet his lips and leaned in close to drawl, 

“C’mon babydoll, don’t ya wanna know why I let all th’pretty boys call me Bronco?” 

*****************

Tony was still chuckling over the Bronco comment an hour later when James had finally given up on stealing kisses and passed out for a much needed nap on the couch. 

Actually, he was still chuckling and also still blushing because it sure hadn’t taken much more than that low voice in his ear and a more than purposeful touch at his ass to remind him that it had been three weeks since he and James had shared a bed, and at least two weeks before that had been the last time Tony had managed to match James’s enthusiasm in bed stroke for–uh– stroke. 

Wait no, that wasn’t totally true. Tony had been fully enthusiastic but his body hadn’t responded the way he wanted and even though everything had still been incredible, there was no denying it would have been more incredible if he’d been healthy enough to fully enjoy it. 

But all it had taken was a hint of that Brooklyn accent and a touch that was damn near chaste and Tony’s body was recovering and well on it’s way back to perky, which explained why he was still blushing like an absolute moron, like a teenager with a crush, like a college kid with a perpetual hard–

“Sir, the latest blood test shows a small, but marked difference in your toxicity levels. It would seem the new core is doing it’s job splendidly. So long as you dedicate yourself to some rest and relaxation, I see no reason why you won’t be back to normal in a few weeks.” 

“Rest and relaxation, huh?” Tony put the blood monitor back down and glanced over at the couch where James was sprawled out and snoring. “That sounds good. I could use the rest.” 

“Should we set about removing the first steps of Ghost Protocol, seeing as how you are on the road to recovery?” 

“No, leave Ghost Protocol in place.” Tony shut off most of the screens, but left the one monitoring his vitals and the new core output up so he could keep an eye on it. “All the decisions made were good ones and most likely the best ones going forward. Leave everything in place except for Dum-E’s move to the Children’s Hospital. Replace his acquisition with a check, something that will cover some therapy animals or something like that. No reason we shouldn’t still give the kids a reason to smile even though I’m being selfish and keeping my Dunce cap wearing buddy.” 

“As you wish, sir.” 

Tony rubbed at the arc reactor and the slowly fading black lines, pulled in a deep breath that only hurt a little bit. “You know J, the more I think about it, the better retirement sounds.” 

“Stars and space and the empty cosmos?” 

“I’m thinking about a hammock and the beach.” Tony corrected with a half smile. “But I’ll settle for a couch and a super soldier. Lights off, give me some sleeping music, something Mama used to play.” 

“Yes sir.” 

The familiar notes of Try to Remember floated over the speakers and Tony kicked off his shoes, stripped out of his pants and crawled up the couch to curl into James’s chest. 

They fit together perfectly, legs tangling and arms wrapping tight, shifting to make room for one another on the couch and sharing a few sleepy kisses before finally settling in to rest. 

“Love you sugar.” James mumbled and Tony lay his ear over the steady heartbeat and whispered back, “I love you too.” 

Twenty five years he’d been hiding, twenty five years and honestly maybe more Tony had been wandering through life feeling lost. 

But this? 

This sure as hell felt like being found. 

“I got you babydoll.” James pressed another kiss to Tony’s forehead when he felt the beautiful brunette shiver. “Got ya. Not goin’ anywhere.” 

Tony snuggled closer and closed his eyes tight, every breath easier than the one before it as his body was slowly purged of the poison that had nearly killed him. 

Found.

******************

Chapter Notes:

Tony’s reactor will last 106 years, because MCU Bucky is 106 years old post EG. 

Chapter Text

“Mr. Stark?” Steve knocked on the wall of the living room before coming inside. “Your uh– your robot butler let me in, I hope I’m not intruding.” 

“You’re certainly not intruding but I will absolutely put you out on your spangled ass if you call me Mr. Stark again.” Tony did up a few buttons on his shirt and then stood to shake the Captain’s hand. “Please, it’s just Tony.” 

“Tony.” Steve grinned. “Sorry, old habits die hard. I might not be the upstanding citizen everybody likes to say I was, but it sure is hard to drop those sir’s and ma’ams.” 

“Did you call Auntie Peggy ma’am when you saw her again?” Tony motioned for Steve to sit. “I heard you only managed to see her the one time before she passed, and you couldn’t show up to the funeral without revealing the whole out-of-the ice-thing.” 

“I did only get to see her the one time close to the end, but Tony believe me, I called Peggy ma’am even when we were in bed.” Steve deadpanned, and Tony snorted a laugh until the Captain said, “No seriously. Seriously.” 

“I’d say I was surprised by that, but Auntie was far too open with the details of her past for me to be surprised she liked to be called ma’am in bed.” Tony laughed louder at the Captain’s semi-horrified face. “But hey, I’d rather not talk about my dearly departed Auntie and her bedroom gymnastics with the still weirdly young guy in my living room. What can I do for you today, Captain? Come by to see James?” 

“Actually came by to see you.” Steve sat down and spread his arms out along the backrest of the couch. “See how you were doing and if there was anything I could do to help you along the way.” 

“Well, I’m doing fine.” Tony flipped his shirt open to show the Captain the still beautifully blue arc reactor and the distinct lack of black sludge in his veins. “Close to a month of rest and relaxation and the palladium’s pretty much out of my system, my mental focus is back to a hundred and ten percent according to the tests I’m sort of obsessively taking, and now that I can eat without vomiting, I’ve even put on some weight. Doing just fine.” 

And then with a smile, “And no offence Captain, but I doubt there’s much you and your pretty muscles could do to solve something like how to create and stabilize a viable element that very well might be the key to unlocking clean, sustainable power for generations to come.” 

“Clean sustainable power for generations.” Steve repeated. “Gonna get all that from the battery in your chest?” 

“The one in my chest is just a first step, and now that I have a new lease on life?” Tony inclined his head towards a set of blue prints on the side table. “There will be one powering my new place in New York, Stark Tower.” 

“I’ve seen the plans.” Steve nodded. “It’s ugly. Big mark on the New York skyline, what uh– what does Tasha call it? Some sort of phallic over compensation?” 

“Ms. Romanov’s wit wounds me even from afar.” Tony snorted. “And it’s Tasha now, huh? You two gotten any closer to dating, or are you still fore-playing by way of intense fire arms training and weirdly long early morning runs?” 

“Eh, we’ve moved up to foreplay by way of Terminator movies and Brazilian Ju-jitsu.” Steve replied as if he didn’t see the absolute hilarity in his words. “Slow but steady wins the race, isn’t that right?” 

“I’ve always been more of the drive by and snatch guy myself.” Tony tossed Steve a bottle of water then gestured briefly. “I know you didn’t come here to make small talk, and even though I’m always glad to see James’s best pal and a living American icon, let’s just get to it. What’s on your mind?” 

“Sure.” Steve drained the water bottle in one go and wiped at his mouth. “We did some checking into Vanko and his story about your Dad. Turns out the claim and accusation was pretty solid, Tony. I know you want to believe the guy is just a victim of the circumstances out of his control but the fact is, his dad was a bonafide bad guy and by crashing the Grand Prix, Ivan headed right down the same road.” 

“Damn it.” Tony swallowed and looked away. “That– that sucks. I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“You’d rather hear that Howard framed someone for the patent to some tech, than hear a baddie is a legitimate baddie?” 

“I don’t know.” he shook his head. “After hearing that story he told about Howard, I wanted to believe he could be reformed or maybe it was a mis-understanding. I know what it feels like to be painted as a villain cos of my dad-or dad figure choices. Granted, I didn’t blow up a race, but what Stane had my company do is worse by about a thousand times. I hoped Ivan was the same. Maybe inadvertently a bad guy because of the stories he was told, even though the stories were lies.” 

“Well they weren’t lies.” Steve countered. “And by the way, you’ve done a great job recovering from what Stane did. Turning around from ‘whoops we’re selling weapons of mass destruction to terrorists’ to being the guy blowing up the weapons– you should be proud of yourself, Tony.” 

“I’m proud of Pepper for not cracking under the pressure of keeping everything together while I went through some pretty spectacular self adjustments.” Tony deflected. “But thank you for telling me about Ivan. Any word on why Justin Hammer was asking about him so much the last few months?” 

“No idea what that was about, but Fury moved Vanko before Hammer got too close.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Smarmy, self satisfied prick. The guy actually looks physically oily, like a damn snake.” 

“He definitely does.” Tony grinned. “What else is on your mind, Steve?” 

“You asked Fury to check in on Pierce?” Steve wanted to know, and Tony nodded. “For all sorts of need-to-know and security clearance reasons, you gotta stop asking questions.” 

“The hell I will–” 

“Tony.” Steve’s voice dropped at least an octave in warning. “I’m telling you. Stop asking questions. I can’t do what I need to do with you poking around.” 

“No offence Captain but sometimes–” 

“–sometimes problems are solved with brute strength and not politics.” Steve cut in again. “That’s how I dealt with bad guys back in war, that’s how I deal with them now. The people who did all that shit to Bucky don’t deserve to keep breathing and by the Dawn’s Early Light, they won’t keep breathing, you understand?” 

“…you’re going to kill him.” 

“I didn’t survive seventy years in the ice to wake up and deal with Nazi’s again.” Steve confirmed. “Don’t care which flag they’re marching under. Fury knows where I stand with that, and since there’s not much he could do to stop me anyway, he just wants me to be at least slightly subtle about it all.” 

Tony put both hands up peacefully. “I’ll stay out of the way and let you work.” 

“Thanks.” Steve folded his arms and tapped his foot on the floor a few times. “You aren’t going to make fun of me for swearing by the Dawn’s Early Light? I’ve been working on that line all week, thought for sure it would get a rise outta you. I’m trying it out for some new propaganda films SHIELD wants to put out to officially announce my return from the ice. What do you think? Too much?” 

“I think it’s exactly the sort of patriotic bullshit we all expect a newly risen Captain America to say.” Tony confirmed. “And trust me, JARVIS recorded it, and it will be your ringtone and notification setting from now until the end of time.” 

Steve cheesed a grin at him, and Tony gestured for the soldier to keep going. “Alright, baddies and Nazi’s aside, what else did you come this way for?” 

The Captain leaned forward and clasped his hands loosely between his knees, rubbing his thumbs one over the other for a minute as he thought. “Tony, I wanted to talk to you about Bucky.” 

“…sure?” 

“I would like to know your intentions with my best friend.” Those All American blues hardened like steel and Tony raised his eyebrows in confusion. “I grew up watching Bucky hide everything about who he really was and that always killed me. But after everything that’s happened—” 

Steve pursed his lips. “Tony, I won’t stand to see Buck’s heart broken. I won’t.” 

“Oh my god, is Captain America giving me the shovel talk?” 

“Steve Rogers is giving you the ‘please treat my bud right’ talk.” Steve corrected. “The Captain America shovel talk will involve an actual shovel and it will be a one sided conversation, you understand?” 

“Steve.” Tony chuckled and tapped pointedly at his watch, the one he’d finalized with the nano tech gauntlet design and was only ever 2.4 seconds from blowing someone through a wall. “Are you threatening me?” 

“I’m fuckin’ begging you to do right by my best friend.” the Captain answered bluntly. “I know all about that fancy gauntlet and if this were you coming into my house like this, I’d probably have put my shield through your throat and dropped you in the river–” 

“Seriously, Captain America. Work on the violent tendencies.” 

“–I was five and a half feet tall and didn’t break a hundred pounds until I was in my twenties.” Steve said bluntly. “You wanna talk small man syndrome and hair trigger temper, we can talk it all day. But for right now? I just need to know you’re not setting out to break Bucky’s heart now that you’re healthy and Tony Stark again.” 

“Does Tasha know about your small man syndrome? Cos I feel like she would have several pointed and devastating below the belt comments to lay on you.” Tony quipped, and the tension broke when they laughed together. “Alright Spangles, less than thinly veiled threats and worries aside….?” 

“Bucky says you make him feel found.” Steve said softly. “Does he make you feel that way, Tony? Do you love him like he loves you?” 

“Ask me again next week.” Tony took a sip of his own water. “Yeah?” 

“What’s next week?” 

“Next week is six months to the day that Bucky and I met in that diner over pancakes, so I figure that’s as good a day as any to uh….” Tony paused, shy. “To make it official. You think he’ll say yes if I pop the question?” 

Steve’s eyes widened first in surprise and then in hope. “Can I be there to take a picture?” 

“Oh absolutely not.” 

“I’ll stand in the background and no one will notice!” 

“You are six and a half feet of corn fed bullshit, Mr. Rogers. No way.” 

“Tony, this is my best friend–!” 

“And you can congratulate us along with everyone else when we make the announcement at a dinner date to be determined.” 

“I’ve waited seventy years to see Bucky happy!” 

“Not a chance.” 

“Damn you Stark!” Steve burst out, and James walked in just in time to hear Tony crack up laughing over it. 

“Stevie.” He tossed his friend a salute, then bent and kissed Tony for a long minute. “What’cha doing cussin’ at my fella?” 

“Over reacting when he doesn’t get his way.” Tony pulled James down onto the couch and turned obediently into his arms, snuggling close to his left side. “The usual. “

“That is not my usual.” Steve huffed and James corrected with a quick, “Oh Stevie, that is always your usual. What are you over reacting about this time? Tights too tight? Glitter not smudged on your cheeks just right? Spend too much time polishin’ your–” he coughed pointedly, “–shield alone these days?” 

Tony cackled over Steve’s scandalized expression. James was so fun these days, rarely serious and almost always laughing, teasing and flirting and giving Steve the sort of hell Tony had always thought Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes would give each other. 

And Steve was way more fun than Tony could have ever imagined, quippy and sarcastic, stubborn to the point of jack-assery but also quick to apologize and quicker still to try and make it up. Tony had never thought he’d be dating Bucky Barnes and calling Captain America a friend but here he was anyway. 

In love. 

Friends. 

Found.  

“Tony!” It was Rhodey coming to pick him up for dinner, and James nudged Tony teasingly when the Captain automatically jumped to his feet and snapped off a quick salute. “Oh ho, easy does it, Spangles. No need to salute when we’re just hanging out.” 

Rhodey waved the Captain off, then kicked at James’s foot. “Move, Snowflake, let me at Tony for a minute.” 

“Glad to see all the nicknames are catching on.” Tony cheesed a grin up at his best friend and accepted a kiss on his cheek. “Is this your official ‘I’m ditching you for dinner’ kiss?” 

“You’ve ditched me for at least a thousand dinners.” The Colonel informed him dryly. “And you know better than anyone that when Ms. Potts demands lobster, you take her beautiful self to Maine for some fresh ass lobster.” 

“You two going to bitch about how mad you still are I didn’t tell you I was sick?” 

“If you mean we’re gonna hex a voodoo doll of your dumb ass and poke it with shit as revenge for you not letting us know you were purposefully, slowly killing yourself?” Rhodey flicked Tony in the ear. “Yeah, that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Besides, you’re clearly tangled up with Big and Blond and Bigger and Brunette, so it’s not like you’ll miss me. I’ll call you when I get back. Love you.” 

“Love you too, Rhodey.” Tony waved until the Colonel had gone, then nudged James gently. “What are you doing tonight?” 

“Mini golf with Happy.” James ran his fingers through Tony’s hair and kissed his temple. “It’s Tuesday, babydoll. Can’t miss it. You and Stevie wanna come?”’ 

“Captain?” Tony raised his eyebrows. “Mini golf? Might soothe your wounded feelings after being left out of other things?” 

“What other things?” James asked, but Tony just hushed him and waited for Steve to answer. 

“Putt putt golf?” The blond thought about it for a minute, then nodded emphatically. “Square up.” 

“Square up?” Tony whispered. “Is he serious with that?” 

“God, Tony. You have no idea.” James whispered back. “This will be the most intense night of putt-putt in the world.” 

“Can’t wait.” Tony leaned in for a kiss that went on and on, James’s hand creeping up by habit to rest over his heart, Tony’s fingers digging into the scars where metal arm met immovable muscle. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” James caught him up in another kiss, and when they parted, Tony couldn’t help thinking about the ring he had tucked away in a drawer in the lab. 

Soon. 

“Hey sweet thing.” James tipped Tony’s chin up. “Can I ask you something real quick? Something important.” 

“Yeah.” Tony smiled and then shot a look over at Steve. “Captain? Wanna leave us alone for a minute?” 

“Not…super.” Steve stalled, but when James rolled his eyes, Steve huffed and headed out, mumbling about having to buy golf clubs for putt putt. 

“I gotta say, I had no idea Captain America was such a goofy gooberson.” Tony decided. “That was definitely left out of the history books. One minute he looks like he’s going to patriotically rampage, the next he’s threatening violence, then he’s pouting about mini golf. How did you deal with him?” 

“Put him over my shoulder and carry him away when he got obnoxious.” James shrugged, and when Tony asked, “You mean when he was small?”, the soldier answered, “Nah, I mean last week when he got weird about a smudge on his new shoes.” 

Tony laughed and laughed until James kissed him just to shut him up. “C’mon Tony, I gotta know somethin’ important.” 

Tony obediently sobered up and James kissed him again as a thank you. “I uh– I wanted to know if me only knowin’ my last name for a few months now affects how we should hyphenate.” 

“Hyphenate.” Tony repeated blankly. “Hyphenate what?” 

“If we’re gonna be Barnes-Stark or just Barnes.” James explained, as if that clarified anything at all. 

“James, I don’t–” 

“Our last names, babydoll.” The soldier pulled a simple gold band from his pocket and held it up to the light. “You wanna be Mr. Barnes or Mr. Stark-Barnes?” 

“James.” Tony gaped at the band. “What– are you– are you proposing right now?” 

“Sorta terribly.” James admitted. “But yeah, Tony. I got some of my things back from the museum and on the loop next’a my old dog tags was my Dad’s old ring and I figured, why wait? I love you and you love me and hell sugar, I’ve been waiting for so long to find someone and then you found me and now I don’t ever wanna lose you again.” 

“You’re proposing to me.” Tony repeated. “James, I–” 

“You don’t gotta answer me right now.” James whispered. “I know this isn’t romantic and fancy like you deserve but–” 

“Yes.” Tony blurted, and James stopped, eyes widening. “Yes. Fuck yes, I’ll marry you.” 

“I haven’t even officially asked you yet!” 

“Well I learned my lesson about waiting till the last minute to say important things and then almost missing my chance.” Tony took the ring carefully and fit it onto his left hand. “So yes. The answer is yes. And later you’ll just have to act surprised when I propose to you–” 

“–what?!” 

“– I was waiting till next week when it was our six month anniversary but this is better.” Tony pulled James in for a long kiss. “This– this is better. I don’t want to wait anymore or take our time or any of that. We’re not running out of time anymore but I don’t want to waste what we do have. The answer is yes.” 

“When ya get around to asking me next week, my answer will be yes too.” James promised and Tony closed his eyes when his soldier pulled him in close again. “Love you so much, sweet thing.” 

“I love you too.” 

**************

Happy was all huffy when they finally made it out of the house holding hands and trading kisses, and Steve waiting impatiently by the limo holding a hilariously small set of golf clubs and scowling impatiently. 

“What’d you guys do, get lost?” Happy demanded and James just smiled down at Tony. 

“Yeah. But we found each other again, so everything’s just fine.” 

Everything’s just fine.