Archive of Our Own

“Who are you?” a high-pitched voice said. And it was the first thing Tony Stark heard after waking up from a truly regrettable night.

His eyes peeled open painfully, accompanied by a splitting headache and a whirl of nausea. As soon as he caught sight of the end of a barrel, he squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed roughened fingers over his lids. “Okay—I’m either dreaming or there’s a pint-sized human holding a gun to my head.”

“This is no dream, pal,” a new, deeper voice said. Tony opened his eyes again and craned his neck so he could see around the—what? Four or five-year-old in freakin’ dinosaur PJs? There was a man facing him from what looked like an island counter top. He was sitting on a stool wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. If the imminent danger of a near-toddler with a gun to his head wasn’t prevalent, Tony might have shamefully ogled the man. He was muscled, had shoulder-length, dark brown hair and a thin scruff covering a well-defined jaw.

Okay, so he ogled despite the off circumstances, but he was hungover and woozy and refused to blame himself for that.

Tony was snapped out of it when the kid spoke up again, “Who are you?” He repeated, jostling the gun like he was seconds from pulling the trigger.

“Are you kidding? Who are you?” Tony asked instead of answering.

The man on the counter, who Tony could now see was sipping at a cup of coffee, gestured with his cup and said, “You really wanna ask the questions when there’s a trained marksman aiming at your head?”

“Uh... okay. Yeah. Definitely dreaming,” Tony slumped back on what he now knew was a couch. A couch that definitely didn’t belong to him, in a home that was completely unfamiliar.

“Buddy, you broke into our house last night, passed out on our couch and we were nice enough to wait until you woke up to begin this little interrogation,” the man said as he slipped off the stool and walked over to stand next to the boy. He crouched down onto his haunches, his coffee mug still in hand, and said, “Don’t you think you owe us an explanation?”

“I what? Shit,” Tony shook his head instinctually, then winced at the pain coursing through his head from the movement. “I’m sorry, okay. I don’t remember doing any of that. Believe me. But, is this really necessary?” He waved a hand toward the child with the pistol.

The man didn’t answer. He lifted his mug toward Tony instead with a raised brow and asked, “Want some?”

Tony eyed the kid, who was a bit shaky in his stance and his glare—like he was trying very hard not to smile—then looked to the handsome man. “Are you gonna get your kid to shoot me if I say yes?”

The man laughed, a warm, rich laugh, and shook his head. “No. But I will if you don’t start talking.”

Tony sighed and slowly sat up on the couch. The second he started moving he felt like he might collapse back into the cushion. His whole body ached, the room was spinning and the lingering taste of bile in the back of his throat wasn’t helping.

After a long moment to make sure he wasn’t going to pass out, and added seconds of uncomfortable staring from his suspicious hosts, he finally answered, “Tony Stark.” He gave them a weak wave. “Had maybe one or... twenty too many. Don’t remember. Did I break anything?”

The man gave a little chuckle, “Busted up our window.” He nodded back at the window by the kitchen, likely leading to a backyard. It was, indeed, completely wrecked. “Threw a rock through it. I cleaned up your mess last night. Gonna want you to pay for that of course, Mr. Stark.” He finally handed the mug over and Tony didn’t even care that he’d be swapping spit with this total stranger. Hell, he’d be more than happy to under different circumstances.

He hurriedly grabbed the mug and chugged down the dark liquid that was thankfully void of added sugars and lukewarm, so it didn’t burn his throat.

“At ease, soldier,” the man said, nudging the kid’s leg with his elbow. The kid immediately dropped the gun to his side and gave a solid salute.

“Aye-aye, Captain!” the boy said, sounding more his age now as he bounced over to the kitchen.

The man sighed and rolled his eyes, “We’re not pirates, James.”

“We’re warriors!” the kid—James—cheered, then busied himself with making a bowl of cereal.

The man snorted out a laugh. “Close enough, I guess.” His cloudy, grey eyes landed on Tony again and Tony was... well, he was more than a little confused.

“You uh... you often let your kid run around with a gun?” Tony asked.

The man’s head cocked back, but he didn’t look wholly offended. “You often break into people’s homes and sleep on their couches?”

Tony briefly closed his eyes and tilted his head. “Fair enough.”

The man shook his head, “It’s a fake.”

“Bang! Bang!” the boy was sitting up with his knees on a stool, holding out the gun which now had a flag popped out of the barrel.

Tony stared for a moment, then laughed a bit hysterically. “That is—,” he stopped himself when he couldn’t think of the proper word for it. He tried again. “That is...” he was still a bit perplexed, so he settled on, “Wow. Okay. Yeah, I should go.” He handed the mug back to the man and promptly stood up, forcing the man to stand and take a step back.

He swayed a bit and the man watched unsympathetically. Tony didn’t blame him.

“Just send the cost of the repairs to my assistant,” Tony said as he patted around his jacket, which was stained in spilt beer and wine. Ugh. When he couldn’t feel what he was looking for, he dug his hands into his pockets, checking inner pockets, breast pockets, back pockets... nothing. The man was just staring at him the whole time looking amused. “Shit,” Tony hissed.

“Watch your mouth, young man!” James called from the kitchen, using a comically deep voice.

The man laughed through his nose, but didn’t say anything. He lifted an eyebrow expectantly when Tony came up empty.

“I must’ve lost my business cards,” Tony said through a deep sigh. “And my phone. Listen, mind if I borrow yours? Just gotta make a call, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Sure thing, hot shot,” the man said, and now Tony knew the man found this nothing but amusing.

He walked away, disappearing around a corner in the one story home. The boy was sitting on the stool, facing Tony the way his father had been when Tony had first woken up, eating cereal and dancing around like he was having just as good of a time.

Tony closed his eyes, propped his hands up on his hips and let his chin fall to his chest. “What the hell was I thinking?” he whispered.

“Probably nothing good,” the man’s voice answered for him before something hard and thin was pressed to his chest. Tony opened his eyes to see it was a phone.

“Thanks,” Tony said slowly, grabbing the phone with shaky hands. His nerves were still shot from the night before. Seriously, how many shots did he take?

Tony was about to ask the man to put in a password when he swiped and saw that it wasn’t protected, which was odd. The man was either too trusting or didn’t have anything to hide.

He made quick work of typing in the number and pressing the phone to his ear, anxiously awaiting an answer. While the phone rung, he looked up to see the man walk over to his son. He placed a large hand on the kid’s messy, auburn hair and stole a spoonful of cereal, laughing when the kid kicked at his butt for it.

Which was a terrible idea, because then his eyes were lingering on those tight black briefs, and the muscular expanse of the man’s back. A terrible, terrible idea.

He ripped his eyes away as the phone connected.

“Stark Industries, this is Pepper Potts,” his assistant’s voice sent a wave a relief through his chest, which also resulted in a tad of unwarranted nausea and a slight bout of vertigo.

“Pep! Hey! Thank God. I need a car,” Tony rattled out, but was stopped when Pepper started yelling.

“Tony! What the hell? Where the hell are you? I was worried sick!! Whose phone are you calling from? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did anybody hurt you? Tony, I swear to God, I—”

“Whoa, whoa, geez. It’s okay, Pep. I’m okay,” Tony said and Pepper responded with a very deep sigh.

“Where are you?” she asked again, this time much more calmly.

“Uh, I’m... where am I?” He looked to the man, who shrugged playfully. “Seriously?” Tony whispered, exhausted, if not the tiniest bit amused by the man’s cheekiness.

The man laughed, before he finally relented, “2304 Baker Street.”

Tony relayed the information.

Pepper was silent for a moment, as if she had to think up the proper words. “Tony,” she finally said. “How are you feeling?” The question had layers to it, Tony knew that, but he couldn’t dig into it right now. Not while he was standing in this stranger’s house.

“I’m okay. Really,” he said, though he knew Pepper wanted more.

“Okay,” she said, sounding apprehensive. “I’ll have Happy come get you. We’ll talk once you get back.”

“Yeah,” Tony said. He offered a few more “sorry”s and a “see-you-later”, then hung up.

He walked over and held the phone out to the man, who slipped it out of his hand and tossed it onto the counter uncaringly. After a moment, Tony had to ask, “What’s your name?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” was the answer he received and it annoyed and humored him all the same.

“You always this charming?” Tony asked next and the man shrugged.

“When strangers break into my place, yeah,” he answered easily.

Tony sighed, giving up. He gestured with his hand, “Bathroom?”

“Hallway to the left,” the man said with a nod of his head. Tony walked off, hearing the man call out, “You better not vomit in there!” as he went.

He found the bathroom with relative ease and stumbled inside. He looked himself over in the mirror and grimaced. “Jesus,” he whispered at his reflection. His hair was a mess, sticking up in odd directions, and his suit was even worse. It was covered in grass stains, soaked in alcohol and bits of vomit that he hadn’t noticed until now. He also had some dirt and grass in his hair and on his skin. Pepper was gonna kill him when she saw him.

He took a moment to empty his bladder, wash his face and attempt to smooth out his hair, then stumbled back out into the hallway and almost immediately collided with the naked chest belonging to the man whose name Tony seemed destine to never get the pleasure of knowing.

Said man was standing there smirking, holding up what looked like a pair of sweats and a black T-shirt.

“What is that?” Tony asked.

“Fresh clothes. You look like shit, pal,” the man said and Tony snorted at that.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Tony said, but accepted the clothes in spite of himself.

“Can change in there,” the man said, nodding to the bathroom. “Or my bedroom.” He nodded to the door adjacent. “Your pick.” And then he walked away.

Tony watched him go, trying not to let his mind reel at the thought of that man paired with the word: “bedroom.” God, when was the last time he’d gotten laid? He couldn’t remember.

He shook his head at the thought and regretted it immediately when he felt his brain struggle to stay in place after his apparent alcohol abuse the night before. And, though he probably shouldn’t have, he walked to the bedroom.

It was a decent size. Not comparable to the rooms in his Stark tower, but decent, Tony supposed. There was a king-sized bed, a dresser, a door that presumably led to a bathroom, double-doors that was likely a closet, shoes and clothes strewn about, a nightstand, a desk, and a workout bench tucked in a corner. Definitely not a room blessed with the touch of a woman, that was for sure.

Tony stepped further in and started shedding himself of his clothes, replacing them with the clean set the man had given him. The sweats were a size too big, but with a little bit of tightening, they didn’t seem like they would drop to his ankles without any provocation. And the shirt was loose, but it smelled nice. Clean, but with a lingering scent that likely wouldn’t wash away.

He slipped his loafers back on once he was finished, noting that he probably looked ridiculous and tried not to let it bother him.

When he went back into the living room with his clothes bundled into his arms the father-son duo was sitting on the couch watching some cartoon. The kid was half in his father’s lap and they were both digging into a half-empty bag of potato chips.

“Leave those wherever. I’ll wash ‘em,” the man said, and Tony guessed he was talking about his clothes.

“What? No. It’s fine. I’ll just have them dry cleaned,” Tony said with a shake of his head.

The man snorted and popped another chip in his mouth. “Suit yourself,” he said, then went back to the show like Tony wasn’t even there.

That’s when things got a bit awkward.

Tony stood there with his clothes, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He switched between eyeing the pair and the television program that seemed ridiculous, and not likely something a kid should be watching. The man must’ve taken pity on him, because eventually he called out, “If you wanna watch, sit your ass down. You’re making my kid uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, uncoughtable,” James said with a nod, though he looked anything but.

“Uncomfortable, Jamie. Come on, you’re embarrassing me,” the man joked, nudging James, and the kid just giggled and stuffed more chips into his mouth.

“Uh, you know what? Maybe I’ll just wait outside,” Tony said and started to turn when the man’s voice stopped him short.

“Sit your ass down. It’s like, ninety degrees today,” he said, not bothering to look up from the TV.

Tony hesitated, turned to fully face the couch again, then said, “You’re a real peach, aren’t you?”

The man laughed and shrugged.

Tony sighed and walked over. James slid across the man’s lap to get to the other side of the couch, leaving Tony enough room to sit. He plopped down and sunk into the fabric, still feeling the effects of the night before.

“Must’ve been some night,” the man commented.

“Wish I could remember it,” Tony said back, eyes staring at the TV, but not really watching. After a moment, he looked to the man and narrowed his eyes, “You’re real laid back about having a stranger in your home. I mean...” his eyes drifted over to the broken window. “I broke in and fell asleep on your couch. Why didn’t you just call the cops?” He looked back as he waited for an answer, and now the man was looking right at him. Those grey—or maybe silver—eyes raked over him for a moment, then he lifted a hand to scratch at his stubble.

It felt like an hour passed before the man spoke, “I knew I could take you out if I needed to. Besides,” he smiled and his fingers grazed over his lips in a way that made Tony’s stomach flip. And this time it wasn’t the post-drunk nausea. “It’s not every day a good looking guy comes barging into my home.” He smiled and Tony swallowed thickly.

Tony opened his mouth, though his brain hadn’t quite stopped short-circuiting long enough for him to think up a reply.

The man beat him to it. “I’m kidding,” he said with a wide smile. He tilted his head as he went on, “I was thinking about waking you up. Figured it was an accident. Albeit, a really weird and illegal one, but you were…” he paused and squinted his eyes, obviously thinking over his next words.

“I was what?” Tony urged.

The man shrugged, “You were crying.”

Loud honking from outside sliced through the air before Tony could properly react to the words.

“Guess that’s your cue,” the man said and Tony cleared his throat. He got up, feeling out of sorts in more ways than one. He wished he could blame it on the alcohol, but knew he couldn’t.

“Yeah, I…Thank you for—you know—not calling the police and, well, not kicking me out,” Tony said, then turned and made his way toward the door.

The man jumped from the couch, presumably to walk him out. Tony faltered a bit. Part of it was the lingering wooziness, another part was that one more minute with this odd, yet very attractive, man might just make him lose his mind for good. The worst part was the lingering embarrassment of having some complete stranger see him cry, even if it was in his sleep.  

They got to the door and the man opened it for Tony. He was smiling still and biting his lip now and Christ Tony needed to get out of there.

“I expect those back, by the way,” he said, and Tony looked down when he noticed the man’s gaze lowering.

“Oh, right, yeah. The clothes. Got it,” he said with an awkward nod.

“And my window fixed,” the man added.

“Right,” Tony nodded again and turned to walk backwards out the door. “I’ll have someone come down here later today.”

“You can call me Bucky, by the way,” the man said next, and God, the man’s smile—Bucky’s smile—was too much.

Tony swallowed, “Bucky?”

Bucky folded his arms over his broad chest and leaned against the doorframe. “Bucky Barnes,” he elaborated.

“Okay—,” Tony cut himself off by stumbling over a rock. “I’ll uh—yeah,” he turned abruptly and made his way to the awaiting car. He could hear the faint rumble of Bucky’s laughter as he ducked inside the vehicle.

“Hey, boss, you all right? Feeling better?” His driver, Happy, asked as Tony scrambled to buckle himself in.

“What?” Tony said, tearing his eyes away from the window and the view of Bucky standing there waving.

Happy was laughing when he said, “Guess so.”

Tony rolled his eyes and laid back into the comfortable leather of his seat. He joked, “Just drive. Or I’m cutting your pay.”

The car drove forward, and it wasn’t until that little house was out of sight that Tony realized he was holding his breath.

“Mr. Stark, good to see you,” Bucky said as he opened his door. This time, he had on decorative red, white and blue briefs and a white shirt.

“You ever put on clothes?” Tony said, still standing outside. He had a wine bottle in one hand and the borrowed clothes from the previous week in a plastic bag in the other.

Bucky leaned against the door on his forearm and shrugged, “My house, my rules.”

Tony fidgeted when he couldn’t easily come up with something to say. The hand holding the wine felt incredibly heavy. God, this was a bad idea. Pepper and Rhodey had said it was a bad idea. Bucky has a kid. Tony is... “flighty,” according to them. “With everything happening, is this really the right time?” “Just because you think he’s hot, doesn’t mean it’ll work out, Tony.” But here he was, ready and prepared to make a fool out of himself.

“I, uh,” Tony started to say, then lifted the bottle up. “Thought I could formally apologize for the other day. And your clothes,” he lifted the other hand.

Bucky tilted his head and smiled, “I don’t drink.”

“Oh,” Tony slowly let the bag and the bottle fall to his side. “Okay...” He didn’t fully understand it, but didn’t think it was within his right to ask why. Even if he really wanted to.

“Yeah,” Bucky shrugged, but was still smiling.

“Who’s here, Buck?” a new voice cut in, and Tony really wished he’d just sent over the damn clothes like Pepper had told him to.

A very tall, very bulky, very handsome blonde walked up in khakis and a white shirt that matched Bucky’s. Although the fabric of blondie’s shirt seemed a bit strained over the obvious muscles damn near protruding through. He had a jawline sharp enough to slice through bread, wispy blonde hair and blue eyes like one of those All-American sports ads. Tony’s balls suddenly felt two sizes too small.

Bucky dropped the arm he used to prop himself up on the door, crossed them over his chest and leaned again; this time on his shoulder. He looked over at his blonde friend.

Before he could say anything the blonde’s eyes narrowed as he turned them on Tony, sizing him up. “Tony Stark,” he said so-matter-of-factly Tony knew it wasn’t a question. He looked back at Bucky and said, “He’s the one who broke in here?” His eyebrow went up in an impressive arch.

“That’s the one,” Bucky nodded.

“To be fair, that night’s sort of a blur. It was more like an accidental break-in. Lots of alcohol. Bad decisions. That sort of thing,” Tony said, and now both men were staring at him. Bucky was still looking amused, but the mysterious blonde looked anything but. “Right. I can go. I just—,” Tony lifted the bag of clothes and pushed it toward Bucky’s chest. He felt both embarrassed and slightly afraid Bucky’s friend might take a swing at him. “Here,” he said, and waited for Bucky to grab the bag before he let go. “So, yeah. Okay. Bye,” he quickly turned to leave.

“Wait,” Bucky stopped him after getting only two feet away. “Get in here.”

Tony turned, scratched the back of his head, then gestured with the same hand, “You’re busy. You have company.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Just come in. You brought wine, didn’t you?”

“But you don’t drink,” Tony pointed out, though stepped forward despite his words.

“Steve does. Right, Steve?” Bucky looked to Steve, who grunted and abruptly walked away from the door.

Bucky turned to give Tony space to enter. As Tony stepped through he said, “He seems nice,” in a tone dripping with sarcasm.

Bucky laughed and shrugged, “He’s harmless.”

Inside now, Bucky closed the door. They stood there for a moment, maybe too close for two people who’d only met once before then, but Tony wasn’t going to complain. “Is he your...?” Tony started to say.

“Boyfriend?” Bucky finished for him. Tony shrugged and Bucky’s damnable smile was spreading wider. “He’s a friend. Best friend, actually. Real good guy.”

“Bang! Bang! The burglar’s back!” James’ shouting had them turning to see the kid wearing pajama bottoms and a makeshift cape. His oddly realistic toy gun was pointed at Tony and the flag was out.

“Not a burglar,” Tony corrected.

“Just a sloppy drunk,” Bucky added, then scooped his son up with his free hand and held him like a trunk under his arm. The kid, laying sideways, laughed and waved at Tony.

Tony smiled and waved back. The scene was admittedly cute. Adorable. Whatever.

Tony followed them through to the living room where Steve, still bearing those narrowed eyes and a deep scowl, was sitting on the couch scribbling on some notebook. Bucky disposed of James next to Steve, plopping him against the cushions and eliciting another slew of giggles.

“Window looks good,” Tony pointed out as he stopped to stand in the middle of the living room. The window he’d apparently smashed a week ago was thankfully restored and as good as new.

Bucky placed the bag of cleaned clothes on his kitchen counter, then dug into his fridge and came up with a bottle of water.

James scrambled across the couch toward Steve and leaned into him, looking down at the notebook like it was something amazing. By the way Steve was moving his pencil, Tony could tell he was sketching something. Curiosity egged at him but he quietly sat down on the small, available space on the couch, rather than asking the man, who didn’t seem too fond of him, about it. He placed the wine on the coffee table, wondering if he should ask for a glass or leave it alone, when Steve addressed him.

“I read about you,” Steve said, not bothering to look up from his drawing.

Tony looked at him, then at Bucky, who was leaning against the island and sipping at his water. When he looked back at Steve, he cleared his throat and said, “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Steve nodded. “The Merchant of Death, right? Big shot, corporate billionaire who engineers weaponry. Ballistics, energy powered artillery, subatomic bombs...” Tony winced at that last one. He knew where this was going and he was really starting to wish he hadn’t come.

“I shut it down,” Tony said quickly, and he knew he was saying it more to himself. By saying it, reaffirming it, maybe he would be forgiven.

Steve finally looked at him as he continued, “Too bad all of Gulmira had to suffer before that happened.”

“I didn’t know until it was too late,” Tony said, this time more pointedly.

Steve laughed a sandpaper-dry laugh with a light shake of his head. “Right,” he said. “You just sat in the comfort of your tower while those kids got blown away by your creation.”

“Steve,” Bucky said in a warning and Steve let out a heavy sigh. He slapped his pencil onto his notebook and gave Bucky a look. Tony couldn’t make it out, but he saw the way Steve tilted his head indignantly and how Bucky narrowed his eyes. “We all got our shit,” Bucky said. Tony wondered if they were talking about something else entirely.

“Right,” Steve huffed, snapped his book shut, then got up. “I’m gonna head out.” He ruffled James’ hair and made his way to the door.

Bucky covered his eyes and groaned. “Jesus Christ,” he grumbled, then followed Steve. Tony just sat there, chest feeling hot from the sudden verbal onslaught and thinking desperately that this was probably the worst fucking idea he’d ever had just because of some hot guy who wore really tight underwear.

He could hear the hushed arguing by the door, but chose to focus on James, who was attempting to cocoon himself in his cape. Tony gave him an amused snort. “Good move, kid.”

The door opened and closed. A moment later Bucky was back. “Sorry about that,” were the first words out of his mouth.

“He seems nice,” Tony said, repeating his earlier words with an added amount of exaggeration.

Bucky plopped beside him on the couch, legs spread and arms resting on the back. “Like I said, he’s harmless. Nicest guy on the planet, but that always comes with a—what’re you doing over there, bud?” He raised a brow at James, who had successfully made himself into a bright red ball, tightly coiled in his cape.

“I’m invisible,” James’ muffled voice said from within the fabric.

“Yeah, well, your cloak doesn’t have any airholes,” Bucky said as he got up. He walked around, grabbed one end of the cape and expertly untangled his son, like this was definitely not the first time. James just giggled and squeaked the whole time until he was freed. Left with messy hair and a confiscated cape.

Unperturbed, James bounced off the couch and ran around the corner, presumably to his room.

Bucky huffed out a laugh as he plopped back down, “He’s weirder when we have company.”

“Sure,” Tony said and somehow that made Bucky laugh harder.

Once he sobered, Bucky asked, “Want a drink?”

“Hell yeah.”

Tony got his wine and Bucky kept at his water. They stayed on the couch. James came back, but was now busy with a Lego creation on the floor in front of the TV. Nothing was playing, and maybe if something was it would be a good distraction. But currently, Tony was trying to figure out what to say after Steve had opened him up so suddenly; so thoroughly. And Bucky was just staring.

Tony cleared his throat, “I didn’t authorize that sale.”

Bucky’s head quirked to the side at the sudden admission. Tony realized once again that he was speaking more to himself and his own conscious. But, he had to get it off his chest. Pepper was too busy was calming the press, and Rhodey was busy cleaning up the mess he’d made. This sort-of-stranger seemed to be the only one he could open up to. Which was odd, because Tony liked his secrets safe and sound, not told to some hot guy in briefs decorated in the nation’s colors. But Bucky also gave off this sense of trust. Openness. He didn’t lock his phone with a password. He didn’t immediately beat up the guy who busted into his home in the middle of the night just to fall asleep on his couch. Maybe Bucky was slightly insane. But he was raising a child, so he couldn’t be all that bad.

Bucky was the one to clear his throat this time, and it was pointed. A few minutes must’ve passed of Tony just sitting there quietly after such an odd statement. Maybe he was the insane one.

Tony shook his head, “I just...” he huffed. God, his chest felt tight as the memory of the news release hit him like a train. “Those people in Gulmira. The explosion from the subatomic bomb. I didn’t approve that. I hadn’t even released that weapon yet, because I didn’t fully calculate the blast radius. It’s a...” he wiped his lips as his mind began to reel.

Bucky likely wouldn’t understand a lick of what he was saying, or about to say, but now that he’d started he couldn’t stop. He took a long gulp of his wine, then hurriedly placed the glass aside.

“Particles smaller than an atom fuse together and create a blast of energy more powerful than the average grenade. Controlled, it can be targeted and won’t spread like a nuclear fusion. Unmeasured—“ he opened his hands up, then clapped them back together. “Who knows. It could be like a grenade or a quarksplosion. More powerful than ten nuclear bombs. I guess, in the grand scheme of things, I got lucky.” Tony let out a sorry excuse for a laugh. When he chanced a look at Bucky, there wasn’t anything there but intrigue. He even gestured with his bottle at Tony, as if he knew there was more. And there was. Tony sighed, “The seller was one of my CFOs. He was selling under the table and I had no goddamn idea. God, your friend? Steve? He was right, you know. I get to be the world’s richest man, getting profit slipped in by terrorists and warlords. Meanwhile, people are paying the price, and I get to sip champagne in my fucking tower.”

Tony went quiet. His chest was hurting worse, so he grabbed at his glass and took another long drink. As if that would help.

He spoke again once he felt the smooth liquid wash over him. “One buyer was reckless. Wanted to take over Gulmira. Obadiah—the CFO—he sold to this man who didn’t know fuck-all about what that bomb could do. It killed his whole group, all of them. Including the entire city of Gulmira.”

Bucky finally reacted, sucking in a breath, even though, judging by Steve’s reaction to Tony’s presence, he already knew. Maybe it was hearing it from the person responsible that made the words so shocking. Even Tony felt how they hit and filled the room. Covering it with a dark energy.

“Of course, I shut the whole thing down. All of it. In one day, I discontinued all weapon manufacturing and ordered the destruction of all sold products. They were transported to space and detonated. Last one went out today.” He took another sip of wine and emptied the glass. “Obadiah is being prosecuted, and I’m the most hated guy on the planet. Some people think I should go to jail with him. Most of the military is pissed I stripped them of over half of their artillery. Organizations are calling me a mass murderer. I reimbursed all of the legitimate buyers, but money can only get you so far.” Tony shrugged, finally done with his spiel and feeling both oddly comforted by Bucky’s silence and opened up by his own admission.

But, now that he was done, Bucky straightened on his side of the couch and said, “Damn, Tony.”

Tony laughed and nodded, “Yep. So, uh... I get it if you want me to leave and never come back. No hard feelings.”

Bucky shook his head, “Nah, everyone’s got their shit, right?”

Tony tilted his head, “What does that mean? You said it to Steve earlier.”

Bucky snorted out a laugh. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you.” Then he got up, scooping the empty wine glass out of Tony’s hand, and went over to the kitchen.

Tony scoffed, “You’re not serious. I just word-vomited my tragic story to you, and you’re gonna leave me hanging? Talk about a tease.”

Bucky laughed and came back with the wine glass half-filled. He sat it down on the table, then got back into his seat, legs once again spread wide and his arms resting on the back of the couch. One hand was right behind Tony’s head, and Bucky pinched at a few strands and pulled. Tony nearly groaned out loud, but didn’t want to make things weird in front of the kid. But seriously, Bucky either had no shame, or was just oddly touchy. Even with strangers who broke into his home. And Bucky kept his hand there, playing with the back of Tony’s hair and looking completely unfazed. Like it was just something to do with his hand.

“That all happened,” Bucky started to say. “The day you came crashing in here. That was the same day you made the order, right? I saw that on the news.”

Tony nodded, “Reporters can be a real pain in the ass. Especially when there are hundreds of them at your front door. I just needed to get away from there. Guess I took it a little too far.” He leaned forward to retrieve his wine glass. Bucky’s hand stayed behind, and Tony was already missing the feeling. Luckily, once Tony leaned back, the fingers resumed their lazy playing and pulling. Tony could really get used to this, even if he shouldn’t. “So, you knew who I was all along?”

“Yep,” Bucky said through an exhale.

Tony snorted, “Then why were you questioning me when I woke up?”

Bucky shrugged, “Why the hell not? Figured I had the right. Plus, James loves watching those interrogations videos on YouTube. We thought it would be fun.” His mouth pulled into a wide smile, and Tony hated how his heart moved at the sight.

He raised a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat, about to respond when James cut in, “It was fun! Can we do it again?”

Bucky laughed and teased with a wink at Tony, “Yeah, maybe we should tie him up next time.” He added a bit of pressure to the back of Tony’s head, and Tony worked very hard in that moment to keep himself from popping a woody.

“Cool!” James jumped up and bounced over to the couch. “Mr. Tony, can we tie you up? I could do that thing that, um, Aunt Tasha taught me!

“Please don’t,” Tony said, still smiling.

Bucky‘s face scrunched, “The hell did Nat teach you?”

James smiled big, “How to tie a brow line.”

“A bowline?” Bucky questioned.

James groaned and rolled his eyes, “That’s what I said, daddy. A brow line.”

“Right,” Bucky nodded and laughed.

Tony raised a hand, “I’m still voting no.”

Bucky’s fingers laced through his hair and pulled, nearly yanking Tony’s head back. God, please stop. “Who said you get a say?” Bucky growled, and it was all jokes and smiles, but Tony was now having to cross his legs and that was a problem. His eyes darted down to Bucky’s privates and was impressed that there was nothing happening on his end. And maybe that was because of the kid. Hell, that’s what was keeping Tony at bay. Or maybe it was because Bucky really was just joking in an awfully flirtatious way.

“I should probably go,” Tony said, then got up and discreetly readjusted his pants. Bucky was just smiling up at him, the sly fucker.

James bounced and pouted, tugging at Tony’s sleeve, “What about the brow line?” he whined.

Tony rolled his eyes, “Maybe next time.”

“Yeah!” James pumped his fist and then jumped on the couch just as Bucky was getting up to walk Tony out.

“Later, kid,” Tony said with a wave toward James.

“Bye!” James waved back, and then they were around the corner and approaching the door.

Bucky opened it and leaned against it as Tony walked ahead and stopped just a foot away. He turned to face Bucky and was hit with a sudden wave of déjà vu.

“Well, thanks for listening to my, uh...” Tony laughed and shrugged. “Just... thanks for listening.”

Bucky smiled and nodded, “Yeah. Anytime.”

Tony nodded back, then lifted a hand to wave. “Guess I’ll see you around.” He turned to leave, wondering if he should ask for Bucky’s number, even if it would be just as easy getting Jarvis to locate it. Pepper had already warned him about that.

“Hey, Tony!” Bucky called after Tony had gotten a few steps away. He turned and faced Bucky again. “You know what you need?”

Tony tilted his head at that, thought for a minute, then said, “A shrink?”

Bucky laughed and shrugged, “Maybe, but not where I was going with this.”

“To get laid?” Tony joked next and Bucky laughed even harder.

“I could maybe arrange that at some point,” Bucky said, and joke or not Tony’s neck grew ten degrees hotter. “I was thinking rehab.”

Tony’s shoulders sagged. “I’m not an alcoholic,” he insisted. No matter how many times he’d woken up in unfamiliar locations, it didn’t mean his drinking was out of control. At least, that’s what he told himself.

“I didn’t say you were,” Bucky said. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t need rehabilitation.”

Tony scoffed, “Right.”

“Come by again soon,” Bucky said, waved, then disappeared through the closed door. Tony stood there feeling more than a little confused.

The guy suggests rehab and then doesn’t elaborate. Tony shook his head. Maybe Bucky really was the insane one. The hot, insane, single father Tony knew he would come back to, because there was something about him that felt more addicting than anything else Tony might need rehab for.

The next time Tony saw Bucky it was three days later. As he walked up the short path toward the front door, it opened. Bucky came out wearing shorts and a muscle tank. He had a duffle bag slung over one shoulder and was holding James’ hand while he locked the door. His hair was pulled back into a sloppy bun.

“Bad time?” Tony said as he approached.

Bucky turned and scooped up his kid, resting James on his hip as he smiled and said, “Not really. On my way to work.”

“Is it Bring Your Kid to Work day?” Tony nodded toward James.

James waved almost as if on cue. “Hi, Mr. Tony!”

“Hi, Mr. James,” Tony said, and the giggle he received was just priceless.

Bucky walked past and Tony followed, trying not to think of himself as a trained dog while he did it. Bucky said, “James’ only four, so I usually take him in with me. Other times he hangs out with Steve at the studio.”

“Studio?” Tony questioned just as they made it onto the sidewalk.

“Steve works at an editing company for comics,” Bucky said. He lifted his chin and James laid his head firmly in the crook of his neck.

“What about you?” Tony asked next.

Bucky turned his head to him and smiled, “I’m a kick boxing instructor.”

Tony gave a low whistle and a slow nod. It made sense. Bucky didn’t seem to have an ounce of fat on him. Not to mention the sheer size and muscle in his thighs, which he seemed to have no problem putting on display.

“What brings you in the neighborhood?” Bucky asked after a second or so of silence. “Other than my dashing good looks.”

Tony laughed, “Right. I came for the view.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of. I’m a good looking guy,” Bucky said with a shrug. His smile was nothing but teasing.

“Can your head possibly get any bigger?” Tony rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t quite taper his lingering smile.

“Which one are you referring to?” Bucky joked and Tony found himself laughing harder than he’d meant to.

“Please. Stop,” Tony said through his cackling.

Bucky chuckled along with him, adjusting James on his hip as they turned a corner. The kid had quickly fallen fast asleep.

Once Tony’s laughter died down, his overactive mind jumped to the thing that had been itching at his curiosity for the past three days. “So, what did you mean the other day? About rehab?”

Bucky looked at Tony and his mouth spread into a full grin. “You been trying to figure it out, haven’t you?”

Tony scoffed, “There’s nothing to figure out if it’s just nonsensical.”

Bucky shrugged, “It’s not. But you probably aren’t even aware of your addiction.”

“I could take a few guesses,” Tony said, but Bucky quickly shook his head.

“Addiction doesn’t have to be substance abuse or something like work or video games,” Bucky stopped and turned so that he was standing just a foot away, facing Tony. “It could be a concept.”

Tony propped his hands up on his hips. “Alright,” he said with a quick wave of his hand. “Enlighten me.”

“Well, Tony, I‘d guess you’re not used to failing. I’d even go as far as to say you’ve never experienced what it’s like to be wrong. You’re rich, smart, good looking. Hell, you probably get whatever you want, right?” Bucky tilted his head, as if he was really waiting for an answer. All Tony could do was swallow and look down, avoiding those eyes that seemed to pierce right through him. Bucky continued, “And now, the world sees you as a failure. As someone who contributed to the deaths of hundreds. And even though you still have your money and your big brain, you don’t have your reputation. Fact is, you’ll never be Mr. Perfect again. And that, Tony, is what you’re going to have to live with. Just like an alcoholic would have to live with being sober. Just like an addict would have to live without their fix. It’s the same thing.”

Tony finally looked up again once Bucky was finished, and was surprised when he didn’t see judgement, or disgust in his eyes, as he’d expected after hearing those words. Instead, there was nothing but encouragement and Tony was speechless.

Bucky used his free hand to cup Tony’s cheek, shocking him a little, but not enough to pull away. Bucky smiled and stroked at it with his thumb, “You’re gonna be okay. You just have to figure out what you want to do. Are you gonna keep going down this same path that led you to waking up on my couch, or are you gonna do something different? Something good.” He let go and nodded his head toward the building they were at. Tony hadn’t even realized it was a gym, and also Bucky’s destination. They’d only walked about two blocks. “Class starts in ten. I’ll see you around,” Bucky said with a wave.

Tony mindlessly returned the gesture, and once again, he sat there watching Bucky disappear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, uh, Bucky?”

Bucky laughed on the other end of the line. “You seriously dug up my number? I would’ve given it to you if you’d asked.” It was a joke, but Tony couldn’t help but be the tiniest bit embarrassed. He’d wanted to ask for it the last time they’d seen each other, but then Bucky had thoroughly dissected him, and Tony had been left feeling numb and had forgotten.

And he didn’t want to just keep showing up at Bucky’s house. That had to be considered some form of stalking. Even if getting your A.I. to trudge it up was just as stalker-esque. Whatever.

“To what do I owe this call? Just wanted to hear my voice?” Bucky teased.

Tony chuckled and scratched at his eyebrow. He’d hate to admit it, but that was mostly the truth. “Are you busy today?”

“Oh, are you asking me out?” Bucky said and Tony groaned.

“I’m just asking if you’re busy.”

“So… you can ask me out?”

“Jesus, you’re frustrating.”

Bucky laughed. “I’m not busy. Actually, James is over at Steve’s for a while. You wanna grab some coffee? I’m meeting a friend—.”

“If you have plans, I don’t wanna impose...” Tony quickly cut in.

“You’re not. If you were, I wouldn’t be inviting you, would I?”

Tony scoffed, “How should I know?”

“Trust me,” Bucky said. “If I didn’t want you around, I’d say so. Now you wanna meet me at Starbucks or not?”

Tony sighed, though he was smiling. It seemed involuntary whenever Bucky was in the picture. “Which one?”

They settled on meeting at the Starbucks near Bucky’s home in Brooklyn. When Tony arrived, he felt eyes on him, but steeled his expression and tried not to think about how it made his skin itch. There was a time where he’d walk into a room and everyone flanked him, wanting to ask questions and even, sometimes, to get his autograph or a picture with him. He didn’t know which was worse: the silent judgement or the loud fans.

Some people didn’t look, but others did, and he knew what they were thinking. “Monster.” He could hear it. Even if it was just a voice whispering it in the back of his head, he could hear it.

“Tony!” Bucky’s voice called to him. He was sitting in the lounge section of the café. There was one couch and two chairs facing it, separated by a coffee table in the middle. Bucky was on the couch with his legs and arms casually spread. His apparent friend was sitting in one of the chairs across from him. The man looked tall, even while sitting. He was leaned back with his legs crossed with one ankle over his knee. One hand rested over the back of the chair while the other held a to-go cup.

“Hey,” Tony said as he walked up. He sat next to Bucky on the couch and didn’t think about it when he let his knee touch Bucky’s as he settled. Bucky didn’t move, so neither did he.

The man in the chair moved his arm from the back and outstretched it toward Tony. “I’m Sam,” he said with a charming smile.

Tony grabbed it and gave it a firm squeeze before letting go. “Nice to meet you. Tony,” he gestured toward himself. “But I guess you already knew that.”

Sam laughed and nodded, “I did. Bucky won’t stop talking about you.”

Tony glanced over and Bucky simply shrugged, unbothered by the claim. “Want something to drink?” Bucky asked while their eyes were still locked.

“I can get it,” Tony started to get up, but Bucky waved his hand and got up quicker.

“Sit. It’s fine. What d’you want?”

“Uh, just coffee. Black,” Tony said and Bucky walked off toward the counter. Tony watched him go, noting that this was the first time he’d seen Bucky dressed like a normal human being. Not in his underwear or workout gear, just jeans and a black T-shirt.

When Tony looked back, Sam was grinning at him.

“What?” Tony asked and Sam shook his head.

“Nothing. It’s just... he likes you a lot, you know?” Sam said and Tony felt that all-too-familiar heat creeping up the back of his neck. Funny, that seemed to be a permanent side effect of being around Bucky.

“He hardly knows me,” Tony insisted.

Sam scoffed, “Bucky’s one of the best judges of character I know. Besides Steve.”

Tony laughed, “Well, Steve hates me, so...” He shrugged.

Sam shook his head, “Nah, Steve hates what your company did. Sometimes, something that big gets in the way of looking at a person for who they really are. Guy has a big heart. Bigger than you’d think.”

“I’m guessing Bucky told you about our very pleasant first meeting,” Tony said with a knowing smile.

Sam chuckled, “What? You mean when Steve basically called you a mass murderer? Yeah, they told me. Well...” he tilted his head, teetering it from side to side. “Yeah, Bucky told me. Steve swears it was an innocent conversation.”

“You two playing nice?” Bucky said as he came back. Tony sat back as Bucky stepped around to reclaim his seat. He handed over the coffee, then resumed his laid back position on the couch.

“Thanks. Really, I could’ve gotten it,” Tony said and Bucky pinched his ear for it. “Ow.”

“I’m sure you’re used to swinging your wallet around, but it’s a two-dollar drink. I’ll survive,” Bucky said and, with a light tug, released Tony’s ear.

“Geez,” Tony grumbled, then took a sip of the hot drink.

“Don’t let Bucky bully you too much,” Sam said, voice full of amusement.

“Too late for that,” Tony joked.

They sat there for a while drinking and talking after that. Tony learned that Sam was a social worker and volunteered at local animal shelters around Harlem. They talked about some of the animals he’d cared for, and how he was especially good at training pigeons, to which Tony called bullshit, but Bucky insisted it was an actual talent. He also learned a bit more about Bucky. That he was three years younger than Tony, 26. That he’d known Steve since they were James’ age. How Steve had been a 90-pound twerp growing up and Bucky was the one to jump in whenever there was a fight.

It was nice. It was easy. They didn’t talk about the bomb that changed Tony’s life, or Gulmira, or what Tony would do since he’d basically dismantled his company. How he had to restructure and was completely at a loss when it came to the future of Stark Industries. How his company’s stock was so low that it was laughable. They just talked.

After an hour went by, Sam said he had to leave to meet one of his clients. He shook Tony’s hand and patted his shoulder, gave Bucky a hug, and left.

“Walk me home?” Bucky had said while they threw away their cups.

“Sure,” Tony smiled.

Bucky’s home was only a few blocks away. They walked in relative silence until they reached Bucky’s doorstep. Bucky turned to face him, and Tony fought to keep himself from fidgeting under his gaze.

“Sam was nice,” Tony blurted out when nothing else was said.

“Yeah,” Bucky smiled. “Sam’s great.”

“Thanks for letting me tag along,” Tony said. They were only a foot or so apart and he was starting to sweat. He needed to say his goodbyes and hurry back to the corner where he’d parked his car before he did something stupid. But, Bucky was still staring and Tony didn’t really want to leave. He just didn’t know what he wanted to do, and it was frustrating.

Luckily, Bucky decided for him. He leaned forward, letting the tip of his nose brush along Tony’s cheek, and placed a soft kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth.

Tony sucked in a breath, but kept himself still as Bucky leaned back, smiling. “Come by this weekend. I’m having a thing,” Bucky said, waving his hand dismissively as if that elaborated at all on what he meant by “thing.”

Tony didn’t really care to question it. His heart was pounding and that was far more concerning. “Okay,” was all he’d managed to say. He hardly recognized his own voice.

Bucky chuckled and shook his head, then walked in and closed the door behind him.

Tony was trying on his fifth suit when the elevator to his penthouse opened.

“Ms. Potts has arrived, sir,” Jarvis’ voice announced.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Thanks buddy. Next time let me know that before she gets here,” he said, straightening his tie in the mirror.

“My apologies, sir,” Jarvis said.

Tony groaned and ripped the tie from around his neck, throwing it to the ground before walking out of his bathroom to meet Pepper.

“What’s got you all ruffled?” were Pepper’s first words when she saw the state of him. Tony knew he was a mess. He was wearing black pants and a grey button-up that was mostly undone. His hair was damp and in odd directions and he hadn’t been able to settle on a proper pair of socks so there was a black one on one foot and a red one on the other.

And it was stupid. He knew that too. They were socks, for crying out loud. But, Bucky’s “thing” was that evening and he wanted to look good. Even if it meant getting his feet coordinated. Especially after that half-kiss that left Tony feeling like a 15-year-old again.

Pepper walked over to his bar and fixed herself a drink. “Big date?” she asked as she propped herself up on one of his stools, swiveling and looking him over knowingly.

Tony walked over and poured himself a shot of whiskey. He swallowed it, put the glass back and rubbed over his forehead. “It’s not a date, but...” he sighed, then slapped his hand down on the bar. “I’m a mess.”

Pepper laughed and nodded, “Yeah, you are. Is this about, um... Buddy?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Bucky,” he corrected dryly.

“Mm, yeah! Bucky. How’s that going, anyway?” She sipped at her drink. A glass of his finest white wine.

“It’s going,” Tony grumbled. “He flirts with me, but doesn’t take it too far. He kissed me, but it wasn’t really a kiss. It was like one you’d get from your grandma, but Jesus, Pep. I swear he’s driving me crazy.”

Pepper’s eyes widened, “He kissed you?”

Tony cleared his throat. “Yeah, it was—I mean, it was nothing, really. I don’t even know if it meant anything.”

Pepper smiled, “Tony, that’s great.”

“No,” he pointed. “Not great. Confusing. Very confusing.” He pushed off of the bar and went back toward his closet to dig up something that would actually match.

Pepper followed him, leaving her drink behind.

Tony went into his closet and called to her, “You didn’t come here to listen to me talk about Bucky. What’s up?” He found a black button-up and began stripping off the grey one while he waited for an answer.

“I’ve settled the press for now,” she said and Tony’s jaw clenched. He dropped the grey shirt and slipped on the black one. Pepper went on, “But they’re expecting an answer. Do you know what you want to do with the company? The workers are asking too. There’s also a few offers to buy us out, but—“

“But, you know that’s not an option,” Tony finished for her as he walked back out. Pepper was sitting with her legs crossed on his bed. He spread his arms and presented his outfit.

She scrunched her nose and shook her head, “You look like you’re going to a funeral.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but started unbuttoning his shirt without argument. He walked back into his closet and stripped off his pants. Pepper walked in after him, unbothered by the sight of him in his boxers.

“How about something more casual?” she said, digging around in one of the many dressers. She found a Led Zeppelin shirt and a dark pair of jeans. She held out the clothes and said, “Have you decided what you want to do?”

Tony accepted them and started pulling them on as Pepper walked out. Once he was dressed, he followed after her. She was back on the bed when he opened his arms and arched a brow. “Casual?”

“Nice. You look good,” Pepper said with a nod.

Tony sighed, “Good. I was thinking energy.”

“Yeah? In what way?” Pepper crossed her legs and intertwined her fingers at her knees. She had her business expression on now.

“Arc Reactor technology. I’ve been working on it. Improving it, in between—“ he waved a hand, “—you know, the weapons and deadly explosives. We could be a big name in clean energy. I’ve got some ideas. I’ll show you.” He walked into his bathroom and looked himself over, then leaned forward in an attempt to get his hair to cooperate.

“So, the world’s largest advanced weapons defense manufacturing company turns into an environmentalist group? I like it,” Pepper said, leaning against the bathroom’s doorframe now. “What time are you supposed to get to your date?”

“Not a date. And he texted me. Said I should just come whenever. Not really sure what that means,” Tony said, then huffed at his reflection. Nothing seemed to work.

Pepper walked up and wrangled a hand through his hair. Tony lightly slapped her hands away and glared. “You look good,” she insured him. “I promise,” she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. But, despite himself, he was grateful.

Tony arrived at Bucky’s doorstep just after seven that night. Standing outside the door, he could hear people chatting and laughing. Tony would never consider himself socially awkward, or uncomfortable around crowds. He’d spent years in interviews and giving speeches. His whole life was on display. But, standing outside that door felt intimidating. He couldn’t deny the nerves swelling up in the pit of his stomach.

With a deep breath, he lifted a fist and knocked twice.

He could hear heavy footsteps approach, but the door swung open sooner than he’d thought it would.

“Mr. Tony!” James revealed himself with a big smile. Steve was coming up behind him, and scooped him up to give Tony room to enter.

“Hey, kid. Hey, uh, Steve,” Tony said as he walked through, allowing Steve to close the door behind him.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve said, eyeing him up and down. It was only their second meeting, but he guessed Steve was expecting him to show up in a suit. Not the shirt and jeans Pepper picked out, accompanied by the beat up sneakers that were usually reserved for days he spent in his workshop. “It’s nice to see you again,” Steve said next, and even smiled. He put James down, who immediately ran back toward the living room. “Bucky’s in the kitchen with the others.”

Tony nodded, “Thanks.” He made to walk ahead, but Steve’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Hey. I’m sorry about before. What I said. It wasn’t right,” Steve said and Tony felt something blossom in his chest. It was something between anxiety and relief.

“No, it’s fine. You weren’t wrong,” Tony admitted with a smile, even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I was,” Steve insisted. He stepped up and looked directly into Tony’s eyes. It was a bit intimidating, but Tony held his ground. “I was wrong, Tony. You seem like a good guy. And... Bucky likes you,” he said.

Tony felt himself smiling more genuinely, “Well, I like him too.”

Steve smiled along with him this time. “Good. I’m glad to hear that. Now, come on.”

Steve led them toward the rest of the group, all standing around the kitchen island drinking. Except Bucky, who seemed to be enjoying his glass of water.

“Look who’s here,” Steve announced to the group and they all turned to them. Sam was there, along with two others Tony didn’t recognize; a man with sandy blonde hair and a woman with scarlet red hair. Two teens were playing some sort of racing video game with James in the living room. A boy and a girl. But, even with all the new faces, Tony zeroed in on the one that was most familiar. And Bucky was something else. Dressed in dark-colored jeans and a black button-up with his hair pulled back into a slightly neater bun than Tony had seen it before. The way he turned and smiled when he saw Tony; the way his eyes lit up; Tony felt like his knees would give out.

“Hey! Wow, we’ve been dying to meet ya,” the blonde man said, already stepping forward with a hand out. Tony grabbed it. “I’m Clint,” he let go and pointed to the red-headed woman. “That’s my wife, Natasha.” He pointed at the two teens next. “Those are our little asshole kids, Pietro and Wanda. They’re thirteen now, so they hate everything. Don’t take anything they say personally.”

Pietro stuck out his tongue and blew out a fart noise, but didn’t take his eyes off of the TV.

Natasha stepped up and wrapped Tony in a hug that was tighter than what he was expecting. She leaned back with her hands on his shoulders and smiled, “Nice to meet you, finally.”

When she backed off to reclaim her spot at the island, Bucky was there smiling down at him. “Glad you made it,” Bucky said, then leaned down and gave Tony that same confusing kiss. Half on his mouth, half on his cheek. What even is that? “Come on, Sam’s gonna cook for us,” Bucky said as he led Tony over.

Sam was quick to comment. “Don’t do that,” he pointed with an accusing finger.

Bucky scoffed and said in a voice filled with mock-innocence, “Don’t do what?”

“I never said I was cooking,” Sam said, but he was smiling.

Natasha tilted her head, “You didn’t?” Her voice was dripping with the same false innocence as Bucky’s had.

“I swore I heard you say you were gonna cook, bro,” Clint pointed out next and it was so obviously a lie.

“I hate y’all. Traders! Every one of you,” Sam said with a dramatic wave of his hand.

“Hey! Don’t loop me in with them,” Steve said as he retrieved a beer from the fridge.

Sam smiled, “Yeah. You’re the only one I can trust.”

Steve nodded, “You’re damn right. But, what are you cooking, Sam?”

They laughed, and even Tony found himself chuckling at the childish behavior. Sam shook his head, “That’s cold, man.”

Bucky leaned over to speak into Tony’s ear, “Sam’s the only one whose cooking is worth a damn.”

“I’m insulted.” Tony smiled and looked up at him. “I’m a damn good cook.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky grinned. “I might have to keep you, then.”

Tony felt his throat dry out.

“Want something to drink?” Bucky asked next, and Tony was still recovering, so he simply nodded.

Sam scrounged up whatever ingredients he could find in Bucky’s home and managed to cook up a chicken casserole that was, in fact, amazing.

They’d sat around the living room eating, the kitchen island having no space for the nine of them. Conversation was easy with Bucky’s friends. Natasha was a whip, and always had a comeback. Clint was easy going and reminded Tony of the times he’d spent with Rhodey before the military, and before work and managing Stark Industries turned into owning Stark Industries. Sam was just as good of a guy he had been during their coffee outing and Steve was actually funny in his own way. And also, oddly out of tune with modern technology. A good portion of dinner was spent with Tony teaching Steve how to use the new smartphone Natasha had forced him to get after apparently dropping his old flip phone into a sewer drain.

Everything had gone smoothly until Tony compulsively asked Bucky, “How come you don’t drink?”

And even though the question was directed solely at Bucky; and even though everyone else seemed fully immersed in their own conversations, the entire house grew deafeningly silent. Save for James, Pietro and Wanda, who filled the space with the sound of their chewing while being blissfully unaware of the uncomfortable atmosphere.

“Was that a... not okay thing to ask?” Tony asked, and the words came out slow as his eyes roamed over the mix of different expression. And though they were different, they all held one blatant similarity: sadness.

Tony’s eyes finally locked with Bucky’s and his expression was the only one that was, for the most part, unreadable. To his credit, Bucky managed a small upward twitch of his lips that partly resembled a smile as he shook his head. “No, Tony. It’s okay.”

And that was the end of it. Everyone eased their way back into their conversations. Over time, Bucky’s face relaxed and he was giving out the same easy smiles and laughs Tony was quickly growing used to. Tony just sat there trying to act like he wasn’t mentally berating himself over the unintentional slip up. Not to mention, he still didn’t understand how that question garnered that type of reaction.

Once dinner was over, everyone started to make their departure. First it was Natasha and Clint claiming old age and how kids will ruin your life. And though they barely looked a day over thirty, Tony had been surprised to learn that they were the oldest pair in the bunch. Pietro and Wanda were true to Clint’s word, glaring and giving half-hearted waves as they left. Steve and Sam left after that with hugs and firm claps on Tony’s shoulder.

James had fallen asleep on the couch by the time everyone filed out. “Hold tight,” Bucky said to Tony, who wasn’t sure if he should leave or stay.

Bucky walked over and picked James up, cradling him in his arms as he went to put him to bed.

Tony watched him go, then walked over and sat on the couch. He wiped his palms on his knees, and hell, he couldn’t remember the last time they’d been sweaty from nerves like this. If ever.

“Have fun tonight?” Bucky said as he came back. Tony jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. It was nice. Thanks for having me over,” Tony smiled as Bucky took the seat next to him.

“Good. I really am happy you came,” Bucky smiled back, reaching out and tugging back a strand of Tony’s hair.

Tony bit his lip while he thought of his next words, and without fully processing them, he blurted out, “Sorry. About what I said earlier; asking about the whole ‘no drinking’ thing. That just made it awkward.” He sighed as he rethought his words. “And this is just making it awkward again, isn’t it?”

Bucky shook his head, “No, no. It’s alright. You wouldn’t have known.”

Tony nodded, but was admittedly dissatisfied. All he’d gotten earlier was an uncomfortable bit of silence. Now that they were alone, he had to ask, “What wouldn’t I have known?”

Bucky gave him a long look, like he was assessing him; sizing Tony up to see if he was worthy of what he was about to say. “It’s a long story,” he prefaced first and Tony couldn’t help but laugh.

“You are talking to the guy who spilled his guts to you the second time we met. I think I can handle a long story or two,” Tony said and Bucky smiled, like those words had actually reassured him.

“Ah, well, it’s uh...” Bucky huffed and scratched at the side of his head. Tony could tell he was getting uncomfortable. Maybe this wasn’t a story Bucky was used to telling. “It was back when I was in college. My first year. I’d just met James’ mother, Dolores.” Tony noticed Bucky’s left hand started to shake while he spoke. He clinched it into a fist and rubbed over the knuckles with his thumb. Tony didn’t ask about it. “I dropped out of school for her. Hell, I thought I was in love. Maybe—," he shook his head. “Maybe I was at the time. I don’t know. She was a mess, though. Steve and Sam, they kept trying to tell me, but I didn’t see it. I was just as bad.” He paused for a moment, likely thinking over his next words. Tony could see it in the way his eyes darted about, as if they were right there in front of him. “I used to drink. A lot. It was, uh— it was pretty much every day. There were times that whole weeks would go by and I couldn’t remember a thing because I was so high and drunk off my ass. Both of us. I didn’t even notice when she’d started using. Shit—I’m not even sure what it was. Heroin sometimes, I guess. Cocaine on a good day.”

“Jesus,” Tony whispered without really meaning to. Bucky just nodded; a sad smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah. It went on like that for a couple years. We were living in some dump on the other side of Brooklyn. She paid for everything. Had a real wealthy dad. I think she was used to doing whatever she wanted. But then... one day, she found out she was pregnant.” Bucky closed his eyes and sighed deep through his nose. “I knew we couldn’t keep doing what we were doing. Not if we wanted to give James a chance.

We started going to meetings. AA, NA. Couples therapy. Fucking yoga,” Bucky laughed, and it was mostly genuine. “But, it was like every month or so, she would slip up. I’d think she was clean, but then she’d have a needle in her arm the next day. And he—,” Bucky pointed toward the hallway leading to James’ room. “He didn’t deserve that shit. I kept trying and she just kept getting angry. We’d fight and sometimes it’d get bad. She’d throw something at me, start screaming. The police were called a few times. God, it was a nightmare.” He shook his head at the memory. “Eventually I got clean. But, Dolores? She wasn’t gonna stop for anything. She even told me. I knew the minute James was born she’d want to go right back to the way things were. I couldn’t do that. So, I promised him, before he was even born, that I’d never be that guy again.”

The room fell silent after that. Tony didn’t know what to say.

Bucky smiled at his dumbfounded expression. “I told you it was a lot.”

Tony chuckled and shook his head, “No. That’s not... it’s just...” he shook his head, attempting to get his thoughts in order. “What happened? I mean, to Dolores. Where is she now?”

Bucky’s smile fell and Tony wanted to take back his question, but the answer came quicker, “She didn’t make it past delivery. It was... really hard for me, but she was so doped up all the time. The doctors said she was too weak when she went into labor.”

“Oh,” Tony said, and he wanted to slap himself for it. Jesus, the best thing he could come up with was “Oh?”

Bucky continued on as if he didn’t really notice. “James was born three months premature. That was a whole different kind of hell. Wondering if he’d make it. Dealing with Dolores’ funeral. Her dad, who basically told me he wanted me and James dead.”

“I’m so sorry,” Tony said, but Bucky shook his head.

“Don’t be. It’s mostly my fault for naming James after me. That really pissed the old man off,” Bucky said as he started to smile.

“Wait. What?” Tony shook his head. “Don’t tell me... Is your real name James?”

Bucky laughed and nodded, “Don’t sound so disappointed.”

Tony laughed along with him, “I’m not! I just...”

“You just thought my parents named me Bucky Barnes?”

“Okay. Fair point. I see where you’re going with this, but I wasn’t going to judge you if that was the case,” Tony said with his most diplomatic voice.

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you say,” Bucky nudged Tony with his elbow, and things were actually starting to feel normal again. More or less. Tony could admit that he was secretly elated that Bucky felt comfortable enough to tell him all that. He could understand the reaction from earlier, and had a higher respect for Bucky’s abstinence.

“You know,” Tony started to say, and he had to pause for a moment, because the thought of blurting out what he wanted to was sort of terrifying. And he backed out, in his mind, ten times, before actually saying, “You’re amazing.”

Bucky flinched, like Tony had just splashed him with water. “What?” He asked through a short laugh.

“You are,” Tony said with a nod. “You’re amazing, and really insane, if you ask me. The craziest guy whose couch I ever woken up on.” Tony paused. “Okay, that’s only happened, like, two other times, but both of those times were Rhodey. My, ah, friend. He’s used to me. But you?” Tony laughed.

“I’m amazing?” Bucky said, slowly, like the words were foreign. “And how’d you come up with that?” He scooted closer, barely an inch forward, but Tony noticed. And so did that damnable heat on the back of his neck.

Tony scratched at his eyebrow and smiled shyly. God, shyly? Bucky was soon to be his undoing. “I mean, it was like a week ago you basically told me to get my shit together and get used to all the hate. And no, I’m not all that used to it, but it helped. Plus, you’ve been through all that, and it couldn’t have been easy. But you’re doing it. And obviously you were able to give James a really good life. I don’t know,” Tony shrugged. “I’m just really glad I woke up on your couch. I’m glad I got to know you. It’s not easy for me,” he waved his hand dismissively. “To open up, I mean. I don’t do that too often. Pepper always tells me I need to talk about my feelings more, but you just make it so easy. And it helps to know that you, and your friends, aren’t going to judge me.” He tilted his head. “Okay, Steve judged me. Pretty harshly, if I’m remembering correctly. But, then he apologized to me tonight and you’re just...” Tony gestured toward Bucky, coming up empty.

Bucky smiled wider and answered, “Amazing?”

“Right,” Tony said with a sigh. “Amazing.”

“You know, I’m not the only one,” Bucky said and Tony immediately shook his head.

“No—.”

“Oh, come on,” Bucky gave him a look.

Tony pointed at him, “Nope. No way. I know what you’re gonna say.”

“No, you don’t,” Bucky said plainly.

“I do,” Tony challenged.

“You don’t,” Bucky insisted.

“Look, I get it. I made a lot of money, but that was mostly my dad. When he passed away, it was mine but not really. All of my ideas have been variations of his. Tiny, little changes to the original plan. Nothing I do is extraordinary, Bucky. I know that,” Tony said. Not to mention, his dad would have a shit if he knew Tony had sold out the weapons industry at a foolhardy embarkment into the energy business.

Bucky’s face didn’t change. It was still that look of disbelief and irritation all in the same. “Tony. For a genius, you really are an idiot.”

Tony laughed, “I can agree with that.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “No. You’re still not seeing it.”

“Seeing what?”

“That you’re perfect! Jesus, Tony. You’re perfect just the way you are. And it’s not your money or your looks or what your company has or hasn’t accomplished. It’s you! You don’t need anyone else’s approval. You don’t need people telling you how smart or awesome you are. I knew it the first second I saw you looking like death on my couch. How is it possible you can’t see that you’re everything you should be? Don’t you get that?” Bucky looked him in the eye, and something truly awful happened in that moment.

Tony felt his eyes prickle with heat. The onslaught of tears were waiting just beneath his eyelids. He panicked. “Whoa! Okay,” he sniffled. “I’ve gotta go.”

He stood up, but Bucky grabbed his arm and dragged him right back down.

“Please. Bucky, I don’t want to cry. It’s one thing for you to see me while I’m dead to the world, but another when—It’s just… It’s really embarrassing. The last time I cried, I was—what? Seventeen? I’d really rather not,” Tony explained with a half-smile. He sniffled again and really hoped he could keep his emotions in check at least until he made it out the door.

“Why not?” Bucky whispered. “It’s okay to cry every now and then.” He ran his fingers through the hair just above Tony’s ear and Tony felt a cold shiver run through him.

“You’re a wizard,” Tony decided as he wiped his eyes.

Bucky laughed and said in a droll tone, “I’m an amazing wizard?”

“Mostly amazing, partly a wizard. I’m convinced,” Tony said, laughing now despite the tear that escaped down his cheek.

Bucky pulled him closer with one hand still wrapped tightly around Tony’s arm and used the other to wipe at Tony’s cheek with a gentle thumb. “I know it was bad,” Bucky said, going back to his original claim. “I know people suffered. A lot of people suffered. And that’s going to be hard to deal with, but it’s not on you. Not all of it.”

Tony nodded, sucking in a breath and fighting the urge to wipe at his eyes. Bucky seemed to have that covered.

“This is the most unsexy thing I’ve ever done,” Tony said.

“Pfff,” Bucky smiled. “You haven’t put me off yet.”

“Jesus. How is that even possible?”

Bucky shrugged, “Guess I’m a sucker.” And then he leaned in and Tony’s eyes widened before they drifted closed.

Tony waited for the pressure he’d been dying for this entire evening. But, when nothing came, he opened his eyes up to look into Bucky’s.

He was paused, looking almost nervous. For the first time, Bucky was the nervous one. Tony would’ve laughed if he wasn’t afraid of ruining the moment.

“Is this okay?” Bucky asked softly. Tony huffed, and it felt like all the breath had been wiped out of him. His entire body heated up, dangerously close to exploding. Or imploding. Both scenarios seemed highly and equally plausible.

“Yes,” Tony whispered and that was all the encouragement Bucky needed.

He leaned forward the rest of the way and pressed their lips together. Tony sucked in a breath. His lips opened in anticipation and his bottom lip was sucked in almost immediately while Bucky swiped over the top with a thorough brush of his tongue.

Bucky kissed him like it was a sport. He took time to explore Tony’s mouth, tasting him. It was slow and deep and deliberate. It made Tony feel like he was being swallowed whole and there was nothing Tony wanted to do to stop it. His heart was going crazy. Thrumming so loudly in his chest that he could feel his nerves vibrating all over; heating him up and making him feel suddenly lightheaded. It left him a shaky, quivering mess. But, he didn’t mind all that much. Bucky was careful with him. He felt safe.

Tony moved his leg onto the couch and Bucky easily slid in between them. He maneuvered them down until Tony was on his back and Bucky was hovering over him in between his legs, kissing him so fervently it was quickly leaving Tony out of breath. Gasping each time Bucky tilted his head and flicked his tongue teasingly. Moaning when Bucky nipped at his lip and sucked on it like his life depended on it.

All the while, Tony couldn’t quite think straight. His hands were in Bucky’s hair, loosened from the bun. He grabbed and squeezed at it while Bucky worked him over. Strong hands slid up the sides of Tony’s shirt, somehow both hot and cold while they traced up his muscles, as if memorizing them. Bucky hummed low in the back of his throat, something close to a moan, but filtered by their movements. Regardless, Tony felt the noise resonate, sending sparks of electricity straight to his balls.

Bucky kissed and licked his way down to Tony’s neck. He bit down especially hard at the spot behind Tony’s ear. “Jesus Christ,” Tony choked out as his eyes fluttered open, then rolled to the back of his head.

Bucky grabbed at Tony’s hips and pulled him closer, letting him feel how hard he was. And God, it was just starting to get good when a voice shrieked out.

“Daddy!”

Bucky bolted upright. “Sorry. One sec,” he said as he detached himself and jogged around toward the bedrooms.

Tony felt like a bucket of ice was poured over his head. He was painfully hard, and had to dig into his pants to adjust himself while he struggled to sit up. When he did, his head started spinning like he was hungover, and now he really was convinced Bucky was some sort of wizard.

Five minutes of waiting for Bucky to come back gave him time to settle and will his boner away so that he could get up and see what was going on. Patience was never his strong suit.

He walked over until he was standing in the open doorway to James’ room. It was mostly dark; lit by a nightlight plugged into the wall by his twin bed. It was fully decked out with space and cowboy themed toys, posters and furniture. Bucky was squeezed on the twin bed with James cuddled on the side of his body, sniffling.

Bucky looked up at him and gave him a sad smile. “He had a nightmare.”

Tony nodded, then walked up to the bed and crouched. He’d never been around kids much, and never thought he’d be any good around them either, but maybe this was something he could help with.

“Mr. Tony,” James whimpered in a smaller voice than Tony had ever heard from him. It nearly broke his heart.

Tony cleared his throat and looked into James’ droopy, red-rimmed eyes. His face was wet with tears and he was sporting the most devastating pout Tony had ever seen. God, he couldn’t understand how someone wouldn’t want to give everything they had and more to a kid this precious. He hoped, deep down, that Dolores was somewhere watching; knowing what she missed out on.

“Hey bud,” Tony said in a soft voice. “Bad dream, huh?”

James slowly nodded his head, then half-buried it into Bucky’s side.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just take a deep breath and relax, alright?” Tony said. James inhaled deep through his mouth and out through his nose. “Good job, kid. One more time.” James did it again, then gave a meek, little smile.

Tony held out a hand and when James hesitated to take it, he gave him a small smile and a reassuring nod. Feeling James’ little hand grab onto his fingers, Tony let out a deep sigh and realized he was likely about to embarrass himself even more than the crying had. But, maybe—just, maybe—the kid wouldn’t think it was so bad.

He stroked James’s hand with his thumb in a slow, soothing motion as he began to sing, “Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart. Then you can start—to make it better,” he cleared his throat and smiled when the kid started to close his eyes. He continued, “Hey Jude, don't be afraid. You were made to go out and get her. The minute you let her under your skin. Then you begin to make it better.”

Tony slowly let go of the James’ hand as he felt it go limp. He reached up and brushed back James’s soft bangs, smiling as a strange sort of heat blossomed in his chest. When he pulled his hand away, he felt the energy in the room shift. Flushed all over, he barely managed to look up to meet Bucky’s gaze.

Bucky was just staring quietly. There was something in his eyes Tony couldn’t make out, and maybe that was because of the lighting.

When the staring started to become a bit uncomfortable, Tony looked away, smiled and whispered, “My mom. She used to sing that to me as a kid when I had a bad dream.”

“Guess I’m not the only one who knows magic,” Bucky joked and Tony let out a short huff of laughter.

As Bucky slowly untangled himself from his son, Tony stepped back and out of the room. He watched from the doorway as Bucky tucked James in, then walked over to meet Tony in the hallway.

“Sorry,” Tony said once the door was shut. “That was weird, wasn’t it? I just thought maybe I could help.” He wanted to say more. Explain himself better, because yeah, that was sort of embarrassing. But, Bucky didn’t give him the chance. He stepped up until Tony was forced to back into the wall opposite of the door, grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him. Hard.

When Bucky pulled away, he leaned his forehead against Tony’s and smiled. “It wasn’t weird,” he said.

Tony smiled and reached up to hold onto Bucky’s wrists. He pulled back an inch so he could look up, and Bucky looked down at him. They were both smiling as they looked into each other’s eyes. Tony felt like the moment was entirely too corny, but also... perfect.

“Plus, who knew you could sing like that?” Bucky said and Tony laughed.

“Shut up.”

“What? Will you do it again for me?” Bucky leaned forward and kissed Tony’s neck, like that would influence him to say yes. And it almost did, but Tony wouldn’t admit that.

“Hell no,” Tony said with mock-firmness. “In one night, I’ve done two things I swore I’d never do in front of anyone.”

Bucky leaned back again and shrugged, “Count me lucky.”

Tony rolled his eyes and pushed him away. “Well, I hope you enjoyed it, because it’s never happening again.”

“We’ll see,” Bucky teased.

“Keep dreaming.” Tony said through a laugh. When he sobered, he let out a deep sigh, “God, what a strange night. You know, it’s getting late. I should probably...” he trailed off. He didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t want to ask to stay either.

“You don’t have to go,” Bucky said.

Tony bit his lip, tilted his head and looked up into Bucky’s eyes. “I don’t?” he asked softly, feeling more unsure of himself now than he had in a long time.

“If you don’t want to,” Bucky said next, this time with a teasing smile and now Tony knew he was leading him.

He laughed, “Are you asking me to stay?”

Bucky’s smiled grew wider, “Yeah. I’m asking you to stay.”

Tony chuckled and shook his head. He looked down for a moment, then back into Bucky’s eyes and nodded. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Tony woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. Maybe it was the comfortable, yet unfamiliar bed. Maybe it was the satisfying, though lengthy, sex from the night before, or the warm body pressed to his back as he opened his eyes. Whatever the case, it was nice. Even if he knew Pepper had left God-knows-how-many voicemails and text messages on his phone without even having to look.

“G’mornin’,” Bucky whispered into his ear, voice thick and gruff with sleep. He lazily kissed the back of Tony’s neck.

“Morning,” Tony said through a chuckle as Bucky’s lips continued their trail along his nape.

“GOOD MORNING!!” James’ voice rang through loud and sharp, and it was enough to make Tony spring forward into an upright position. Luckily, the blanket stayed secure around his hips as he hazily met the child’s excited eyes.

Bucky got up much slower, likely anticipating this as his usual morning routine. “Hey, Jamie. You brush your teeth yet?” Bucky asked, still sounding half-asleep.

“Mhm. Can I have eggs and bacon?” James asked.

“Yeah. Sure thing, bud,” Bucky said, then promptly collapsed back onto the bed as James ran out of the room toward the kitchen.

Tony was still sitting up, feeling slightly delirious as he forced his mind awake. He also had to wonder if James was at all curious about the naked man in his daddy’s bed, or if he was familiar enough with Tony not to care.

“He’s got a lot of energy,” Tony said, then turned his head to look down at Bucky, who was exactly the opposite of his son. His hair was a mess, splayed over his face and on the pillow beneath him. His eyes were barely open and he mouth was pulled down into a deep grimace.

“He’s a morning person,” Bucky said with a grunt.

“You’re obvious not, Sunshine,” Tony commented, and poked at Bucky’s scowl.

Bucky swiped at his hand. “Shut up.” He rolled out of bed after that, and Tony was given a full view of his bare ass as he walked around the bed uncaringly into his bathroom.

Once the door was closed, Tony finally allowed himself to lie back down. He turned over and reached for where he’d left his phone on the nightstand so he could scroll through the predictably large amount of messages from Pepper.

He sighed and hit her name in his contacts. He laid flat on his back and looked up at the ceiling while his phone rung against his ear. Only two rings later the call connected.

“Tony?” Pepper said, sounding concerned, and Jesus, she really needed to stop thinking he’d been kidnapped every time he didn’t come home. It was one time.

“Hey, Ms. Potts,” Tony said and she let out her routine sigh of relief.

“You’re okay? You sound good. Are you... wait. Where are you?”

Tony felt himself smiling. “I’m at Bucky’s.”

“Really?” There was a long pause. “I thought it wasn’t a date.”

“It wasn’t. I just...” he trailed off as the door to the bathroom opened again. Bucky walked over to his dresser and reached into the top drawer. He pulled on a pair of briefs and yawned, then looked at Tony and gave him a sleepy smile. “Uh,” Tony said dumbly, not fully realizing that he was staring. But, Bucky was absolutely gorgeous. Especially now, sleep tussled and a tad disoriented. Bucky turned back around to his dresser and fished out a pair of sweats.

“Tony?” Pepper said, that concern creeping back into her voice.

Tony finally shook his head back into reality. “Sorry. Yeah. Just wanted you to know I’m okay and I’ll be back sometime soon.”

“Huh,” Pepper said. “Well, alright. I’ll be at the tower in a few.”

Tony hung up after that and put his phone aside. Bucky walked up with a second pair of sweats and held them out. “Here,” Bucky said and Tony took them with a smile and a kiss Bucky seemed all too happy to offer up.

He pulled his legs over to the side of the bed and slipped on the pants before he spoke, “So, I was thinking you could come by the tower today. If you’re not busy. There’s something I want to show you. Plus, it might be nice for you to see where I live. Maybe I’ll let you play with some of my toys.” He grinned and Bucky let out a breathy laugh that Tony assumed was a mornings-only blessing.

“You tryna get me into your bed, Mr. Tony?” Bucky joked as he pulled his hair into a bun.

Tony rolled his eyes, “Well, when you say it like that, Mr. Bucky, how could I resist?”

Bucky scrunched his nose, “Okay, yeah. I hear how that sounds.”

“Yeah,” Tony laughed and nodded. “You don’t like it too much, do you?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Whatever. I’m free as long as James can tag along.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Maybe I should go back and take a shower or something before you come. Pepper’s gonna have a lot of questions. Oh! You’ll get to meet Pepper. She’s great. And Jarvis. Well... he’s an A.I., but you’ll get used to him.”

Bucky nodded and “mhm’d” and was so obviously not listening. He stepped forward and grabbed both of Tony’s hands, dragging him up onto his feet. He gave Tony a quick peck on the lips, then walked backwards, pulling Tony along toward the door as he spoke, “This all sounds great. But look, I really need some coffee, or I’m gonna fall over. Can we do that and breakfast first?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony laugher. “Let’s go get you fed, you big baby.”

“You’re back. And wearing... different pants?” Pepper mused as Tony met her in the lobby of the tower. She had on a blue pencil skirt and jacket, and had her laptop pressed to her chest. Tony had forgotten about the borrowed sweats, and that his pants were currently somewhere on Bucky’s bedroom floor.

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Tony stopped in front of her and offered a crooked smile. He scratched his cheek, then gestured with the same hand as he spoke, “I invited Bucky over. He’s coming here in, like—I don’t know—a half hour or so.”

Peppers eyes widened a fraction before she gave a slow nod and a knowing smile. “And you’re sure last night wasn’t a date?”

Tony laughed, “It was...” he paused, then shook his head. “Yeah. Maybe a date. Maybe more?” He started on his way to the elevator, and she diligently followed.

Stepping inside, Pepper scanned her keycard and pressed the button for the top floor. For a while she was eerily quiet for half the ride up, but Tony knew she was itching to say something. It wasn’t long, before she let out a small gasp and said, “Is that a hickey?”

Tony was proud that he didn’t immediately go to cover his neck, as he’d twitched to do, but instead, cleared his throat indignantly. “I don’t know. Is it?”

Pepper smiled. “Maybe more, huh?”

Tony turned to her, a grin playing at his lips, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Are you gonna tell me what happened?”

“Nope.”

They walked out of the elevator into the penthouse. Tony made an immediate B-line for his bathroom.

“So, you invited him over?” Pepper said as she settled on his bed, pulling her laptop onto her lap and typing out something Tony had to assume was of the upmost importance.

“Yeah!” He called from the bathroom. He stripped off his clothes, save for his boxers, and turned on the water to the shower. He walked out to his closet as he continued, “I wanna show him something. You too.” Tony said and Pepper looked up from her laptop at him.

“The Arc Reactor?” She’d always known it existed, but had never actually seen the final product in person. Hell, most people knew it existed, but at the time that it got out to the public, it was only a prototype. The public wasn’t even aware that it was the main source of power in the Stark Tower. Weapons always seemed to take precedence.  

Tony fished in his closet for a clean pair of boxers, pants and a T-shirt. He walked over to the bed and laid them out behind Pepper. When he turned to look at her, she was tilting her head expectantly. “The Arc Reactor,” he confirmed. “You wanted an answer, right?”

“Yeah, but...” Pepper smiled, despite her eyes revealing her obvious apprehension. “I know you like this guy, Tony, but do you really want him to see this? Or know your plans? I mean, this is a big step for the company, and—.”

“Pepper,” Tony stopped her there. “I get it. Really. But…” he thought about his next words, and as he did, he felt himself smiling. “I don’t think I’d be doing any of this if it wasn’t for him.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, “You can’t be serious.”

Tony laughed, “I know how it sounds.”

“Oddly sentimental coming from you. And, when have you ever given someone else credit for your ideas?” She was almost looking amused now.

“I’m not! It’s just—he told me to figure out what I wanted to do. And I think that was the first time anyone had ever asked me what I want.” Tony let out a deep breath, and slowly came to regret his words when he saw the way Pepper’s face pulled into a deep frown.

“Tony, I’m…” he knew what she was about to say.

“No! Pep, come on. I know, you and Rhodey wouldn’t, because—hell, I thought I liked what I was doing. It’s just Bucky... he just knew somehow.”

“That you needed to get your shit together?” She was smiling again, this time more softly.

Tony smiled along with her, “Yeah.”

“And you did?”

Tony shrugged, “I think so.”

Pepper sat her laptop aside on the bed, got up and stepped forward to wrap Tony in a tight hug. Tony stiffened for a moment, bunched into Pepper’s arms around his biceps. “I’m so proud of you, Tony.”

Tony laid his head against her shoulder and huffed out a short laugh. He left his hands dangling awkwardly at his sides.

Pepper pulled back and pecked his forehead with a soft kiss, then stepped back to reclaim her seat on his bed. She gestured toward the bathroom, that was steaming heavily from the running water, and said, “Okay. Get clean and dressed.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Tony joked, but went toward the bathroom to do as he was told. Before he went in, he turned back to Pepper, who’d already resumed her typing, and said, “By the way, do we have any of those little—,” he waved his hand, “—toy, gadget things that went with those family gift baskets from last year?”

She didn’t look up when she answered, “From the Stark Expo?”

“Yeah! We had those levitating cars... or was it a rocket? A tank?”

“It was a space ship.” She looked up at him. “Why?”

Tony shrugged, “He’s bringing James. His kid, I mean. He’s bringing his kid.”

Pepper’s mouth fell open. “His what?”

“Did I not tell you he had a kid?”

“You did not tell me he... Tony, what? I—,” she clearly was at a loss for words.

“You know what?” Tony said as his mind jumped to the next thing, choosing to ignore Pepper’s apparent shock. “Forget the toy. I’ll just let him blow something up.” He disappeared into the steamy bathroom. The dulled sound of Pepper shrieking his name only made him cackle as he removed his boxers and stepped into the hot shower.

Bucky texted his arrival an hour after Tony had gotten dressed. He tried to keep his cool as he, not-so-subtly, rushed Pepper toward the elevator and back down to the lobby.

When they made it to the front doors, Tony’s heart punched at his chest so hard he thought he might be going into cardiac arrest. He’d just seen Bucky that morning, and yet, seeing him standing there in his simple jeans and T-shirt, carrying James on his hip while obviously scanning the spacious lobby for Tony, made him feel like he was reconnecting with a piece of himself. It was strange; a feeling he’d never experienced before, but it was there, beating his heart and making his stomach sick with butterflies.

James was the one to spot him first. With little regard to his surroundings, the kid reached his arm into the air and waved. “Mr. Tony!!” he called, eliciting the attention of some employees that were milling about. Both Bucky and James promptly ignored them. Tony chose to do the same, smiling and waving a hand as he walked up.

“Hey, bud,” Tony said to James first. He looked to Bucky next. “Hey,” he said, his smile growing wider. Bucky took a step closer to lean in with a hand on Tony’s back. He planted a long, but tame, kiss before he pulled away and smiled back.

“Hey, Tony,” Bucky said.

Their eyes lingered on each other’s for a moment until Pepper stepped up and cleared her throat.

Bucky looked over at Pepper with a wide, charming grin, “Hey, I’m Bucky. You’re Pepper, right?”

Pepper looked briefly taken aback, but recovered quickly enough. Despite the slight rosy tint to her cheeks, she reached out a hand and smiled, “Yes. I’m Pepper. Pepper Potts. It’s nice to meet you, Bucky. And—,” she looked toward the bundle in his arms.

“I’m James!” the kid said with a wave.

“It’s nice to meet you, James.”

“Shall we?” Tony tilted his head and turned his body toward the elevator. He paused when he saw James leaning toward him with his arms out.

Bucky rolled his eyes, and shifted James on his hip. He stepped a bit closer and whispered to Tony, “He wants you to carry him. But, you don’t have to.”

“Oh! Sure. Yeah, I don’t mind,” Tony said, smiling again. He’d never would’ve thought that something as simple as this kid’s affection would make him feel so proud, or warm, inside, but it did. He couldn’t even manage to wipe the smile off his face as James scrambled over from Bucky to Tony, clinging onto him like a spider monkey. Pepper was still doing her best to keep herself from gaping at him, and he was sure a lot of his employees were doing the same, and all Tony did in return was snicker at their bewilderment as he led them toward his elevator.

Bucky wasn’t like anyone Tony had brought to his tower. A lot of the times in the past it had been for sex and ended with a hasty send off from Jarvis or Pepper. Most people gawked mindlessly at everything, or at least got a shock from Jarvis’ presence. But not Bucky.

He just quietly stood, sometimes asking questions, but never surprised by the answers. He just accepted it for what it was. Which was... nice.

When they got down to the lab, Jarvis’ voice came out almost immediately, “The Arc Reactor has been stabilized, sir.”

Bucky blinked, looked at Tony and asked, “Who’s that?”

Tony snickered and shrugged, “That’s Jarvis. Say hi, J.”

“Hello, Mr. Barnes,” Jarvis said, brief and polite all in the same.

“He knows my name?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah,” Tony didn’t know if he should explain how Jarvis continuously collects information from all of Tony’s files and stores them into an ever-growing data bank, so he left it at that.

Bucky shrugged, “Well, nice to meet you, Jarvis.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Jarvis said.

“The pleasure is all mine,” James repeated in a poor attempt at a British accent.

They laughed as they walked further in, bypassing his scrap-covered workbench, Dum-E and U—who Tony dismissively introduced—the few creeper seats he had to kick out of the way, a mess of broken down bikes, computers and engines, until they made it to the back where there was a set of double-doors.

Pepper walked up and unlocked the doors with her keycard, but Bucky made sure to step ahead of them and hold the door open while they entered.

A bright blue light greeted them, housed in a circular glass casing. The energy wrapped around a magnetic tube, orbiting nonstop as it pulsated; pumping power up and into the main channel, distributing it all throughout the tower.

Bucky looked up at it for a long while. Pepper walked over to one of the chairs housed in the corner of the room with her computer, taking a seat and preparing her notes. James was resting his head heavily on Tony’s shoulder, and Tony suspected the kid had fallen asleep.

After a moment, Bucky looked at Tony and asked, “This is what you wanted to show me?”

Tony nodded, “Yeah, it’s a... my dad and I did this together.”

Bucky’s eyes widened a fraction, and Tony wasn’t sure if that surprised him or if the information itself was just interesting enough to garner that reaction.

He continued, “It was back when I was a kid. Twelve or something. I think my dad just wanted to find something we could do together. So... why not create this?” Tony gestured toward it.

Bucky smiled, “Well, what the hell is it?”

“Energy. Clean, sustainable energy and the only one in existence.”

Bucky took a second to think about that, then gave a slow nod. “A Warm Light for All Mankind,” he recited and Tony’s eyes widened this time.

“You read that article?” he asked. It was an old one, from back when they’d presented the prototype at the 2006 Stark Expo. Tony was just fifteen at the time. It had gotten a lot of coverage for about a week until Howard’s newest explosive hit the market.

Bucky shrugged, “Steve did, after what he said. He sort of felt bad for jumping to conclusions with you. He did a bunch of research and showed me. So, yeah. Good article. You and your dad look alike.” He laughed when Tony gave a very exaggerated roll of his eyes. He looked back at the Arc Reactor and waved a hand at it. “So, why this?”

Tony scratched at his goatee. “You told me I should figure out what I wanted.”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded.

“Well, I remembered why I wanted to do this. Why I wanted to take over the weapons industry after my parents... after they died.” He cleared his throat. “It wasn’t about the money or... the attention. Not at first. It was because I always wanted to help people. My dad’s weapons helped with the war. He wanted to protect our soldiers. I just wanted to do the same.” Somewhere in the back of Tony’s mind, he noticed Pepper had stopped typing. “But, when I saw what people were doing with them. What Obie was doing... I knew it didn’t matter how many soldiers I helped when people were suffering on the other end too. But with this,” he pointed to the Arc Reactor. “Maybe I could reframe the energy business. Decrease pollution. It’s costly but viable, and I have the funds to do it.”

“But you’ll be spending more than you’ll be earning?” Bucky asked, more curiously than anything else.

Tony smiled, “Yeah. For a while. Ten or so years, if my math is correct.”

Jarvis chimed in, “Approximately thirteen years, twenty-seven days, sir.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Thanks, J.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head, “Guess you’ve got it all figured out.”

“Yeah... guess so.”

“This is great, Tony. Honestly, it’s—“ Bucky huffed and smiled. “Wow.”

“It’s because of you, you know?” Tony said, bumping his hip with Bucky’s.

“What is?”

“You helped me. I wouldn’t have figured it out without you,” Tony said and Bucky immediately gave him a sideways look.

“You’re one of the smartest people on the planet. You would’ve figured it out,” Bucky said and Tony scoffed.

“Yeah, but after waking up on how many stranger’s couches? Who knows where I would’ve ended up,” Tony joked.

“You’re unbelievable,” Bucky said through a laugh.

And then Tony heard a sniffle. A very loud sniffle from the corner of the room. He slowly turned to see Pepper trying to wipe her eyes discreetly, and failing horribly.

“Jesus—Potts, are you crying?” Tony asked in his disbelief.

“No,” she muttered in a strained voice.

“Oh, my God,” Tony blanched.

“I’m sorry! It’s just—you two are so cute, and what you said, and James is sleeping in your arms and it’s really cute and you two just look like a little family! It’s really sweet, Tony! God, I wasn’t trying to make it weird,” Pepper nearly shouted, waving her hands frantically as her face grew more and more red.

“Okay. Definitely made it weird,” Tony said, even if he felt a bit flustered by her words.

Bucky just laughed, shaking his head at the two of them. Soon enough, Tony started laughing along with him. Then Pepper joined in, her face still red and damp with tears, but smiling and laughing just as joyously. James woke up from the noise just as they started to cool down.

He asked in a sleepy voice, “What’s funny, Mr. Tony?”

“Nothing, kid. Ooo, wanna go blow something up?”

“Yeah!” James shouted. While Pepper and Bucky both gave a resolute “No.”

“Party poopers,” Tony and James said at the same time.

Tony broke out into almost hysterical laughter and wondered for a moment if he was always meant to be in this child’s life. In Bucky’s life. If he’d broken his way into their home as some sort of drunken, divine intervention. Because there had never been a time in his life where he’d felt more whole. Like he had everything he wanted, right there in that room. Like he was exactly where he wanted to be.