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Kiss Me Anywhere
As it turned out, yetis and humans had very few courting practices in common.
Bucky kept giving Tony courting gifts beyond the red yeti-fur cloak, like mittens, and a hat, and scarves. Once Tony was covered head-to-toe in his knitwear, he started making traditional yeti food for him—dense, nutritious sweet breads full of nuts, and meat pies, and baked sweet potatoes still in the skin. And Tony accepted everything, even if he did feel a little bewildered by it.
“Does he think I’m too skinny?” Tony asked, poking at his stomach with a frown. He’d already gained a few pounds from all the food.
“Probably,” Bruce replied, not looking up from the book he was taking notes from. “Yetis in their full forms aren’t actually all muscle. They have a decent layer of fat under their fur to help insulate against the cold during the winter months. What’s he been feeding you?”
“I’ve been giving you my leftovers because I can’t eat everything,” Tony mumbled, feeling caught. He’d been loathed to give the food away, because Bucky had clearly worked hard on it, but he hadn’t been able to even look at one of the sweet breads after he’d eaten half the loaf over the course of three days. “So… all of that.”
Bruce finally lifted his head to give him a very slow blink. “…Well, no wonder you’ve put on a few pounds.”
“Will he still like me if I’m fat?” Tony asked worriedly, walking over to Bruce’s mirror so he could give his whole body an inspection. “Maybe he liked the novelty of me being small.”
Bruce turned to look at the red cloak that Tony had hung up when he’d come in. “…I sincerely doubt he likes the novelty of you being small,” he deadpanned. When Tony only turned to look at him with a concerned frown, he sighed and threw his hands up. “Tony, I’ve never seen a skinny yeti. I’d be very surprised if that was what he liked about you.”
Tony chewed on his bottom lip, thoughtful, then crossed his arms, skeptically asking, “And you know a lot of yetis?”
“Tony, I’m the person they come to when they need medical attention,” Bruce scoffed. “I know more about them than you.”
Tony perked up. “Like courting behavior? So you could—”
“Absolutely not,” Bruce said immediately. “I know medical things. I can’t help you court him. You need to ask Natasha that stuff. I don’t know anything, and I want to continue not knowing anything.”
Tony pouted, then brightened, sitting on the other side of the table from him. “Can you tell me some basic first-aid stuff? Just stuff I might need to know if he gets in a fight or something. I know that the clan is largely peaceful, but sometimes the humans at the feet of the mountains are…”
“Genocidal?” Bruce supplied.
“…Yeah,” Tony finally agreed with a wince.
Bruce put a marker in his book and closed it, pushing it aside. “Yeah, I suppose I could teach you a few things. I could always use help fixing everyone up after a battle, anyway.”
.-.-.-.
“Steve,” Bucky said morosely.
Steve tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling of his cave and sighed, long and slow. Once he’d inhaled again, he dropped his head forward again, turning to meet Bucky’s eyes. “Yes, Bucky.”
“Tony keeps trying to hold my hand,” Bucky said.
Steve stared at him, waiting for him to continue. When Bucky didn’t, he finally replied, “And? I’m pretty sure you’ve whined about wanting to hold his hand before. I don’t understand why you look so sad.”
“He hasn’t kissed me yet,” Bucky sighed.
“So kiss him first? Why are you being such a sad sack about this,” Steve asked, bewildered.
“I can’t just kiss him first!” Bucky hissed, glaring at him. “I’m courting him! So everything has to be on his terms!”
Steve stared a little longer, then asked, “His terms. His human terms. His terms that don’t include a mating cloak and mittens and food that’s made him gain weight that he’s really self-conscious of. Those terms.”
“Tony’s self-conscious of his weight?” Bucky asked, voice cracking with concern. “Why? It looks so good on him. I want to bury my face in his stomach.”
“Okay,” Steve began.
“—Or his ass. His ass looks really nice, too.”
“Not okay,” Steve barked at him. “Just tell him you want to kiss him, idiot. He’s human. Natasha says humans aren’t nearly as ritualistic as we are. She said she knows a couple humans that got married to each other after a week.”
Bucky recoiled in horror. “Ew!”
“That’s what I said, and she punched me,” Steve complained. “Anyway, you’ve been courting Tony for the requisite two moons. Winter is coming. He should spend it here, with the clan, where he’ll be safe.” He turned and motioned at the calendar on the walls of his cave, that had helped each clan leader for centuries. He pointed specifically to the one that showed the exodus of the few humans that lived on the mountain heading toward the mountains’ feet. “You’ve only got a couple more months before the pass is iced over and you won’t be able to see Tony until the thaw because it’s not safe for him up on the mountain face. What if someone steals him from you in that time? I don’t see the beauty in him that you do, but I can definitely see that he’s clever and feisty. I’m sure that’s attractive to a lot of people.”
Bucky couldn’t help the growl that tore from deep in his throat at the thought of bidding Tony farewell for the winter and then finding him already claimed by another in the spring. “Tony is very beautiful,” he muttered, mostly because anything else he said would just be enraged howling, then turned and stomped away.
“If you like them sassy, I guess,” Steve called after him.
“I do like them sassy,” Bucky hissed to himself as he went back to his den to make another loaf of sweet bread.
.-.-.-.
The next time Tony saw Bucky, he brought a little tin of butter cookies with him. He wasn’t very good at baking, but Bruce had been patient in teaching him, especially when Tony had said that he wanted to give Bucky something special in return for all of his gifts. Bruce had assured him that it was hard to fuck up a butter cookie, and after a quick taste test, he’d happily sent Tony on his way.
“Oh,” Bucky said when he saw it. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
Tony beamed at him as he handed the tin over. “I hope you like them!”
“I’m sure I will,” Bucky said, frowning at the tin uncertainly.
Tony felt his smile dimming. “Was I not supposed to make you anything?” He took a step back anxiously. “Did I offend you?”
“No!” Bucky answered hastily. “No. I’m not offended. It’s just… different. I’m surprised, not angry.”
“I can take them back,” Tony offered.
“No!” Bucky said again, holding the tin to his chest protectively. “These are mine now.”
“…Okay,” Tony agreed.
Bucky scowled at him for a moment longer, then slowly relaxed, shoulders falling. “Tony,” he said solemnly.
“I can’t take you seriously when you’re holding a tin of butter cookies like I’m gonna steal them,” Tony cut in.
Bucky paused, then turned and carefully set the tin down. Then he turned back to Tony and took a deep breath before he started again. “Tony. I have something I’d like to ask you.”
Tony frowned up at him uncertainly, because he sounded so serious. “Okay?”
“I’d very much like to kiss you,” Bucky said.
Tony stared at him, shocked stupid. “You wanna—so do it? I don’t—”
“It’s a very big deal to my people,” Bucky explained. “In our full forms, our teeth are so sharp, it’s very intimate to kiss each other. Even more intimate to hold hands, because our claws are so dangerous. With a kiss, we can take our relationship to the next level.”
Tony continued to stare at him. “So—so by asking me for a kiss, we’re basically becoming—fiancés?”
Bucky, to his credit, paused to consider the implications of what he’d meant versus what Tony did. Finally, he nodded. “Yes. A kiss shows intention. I intend for you to be my mate. I hope you intend for me to be yours, too.”
“Oh, well, of course, but—no one ever likes me as much as I like them,” Tony began with a self-deprecating little smile. “So I don’t—” He gasped softly when Bucky reached out to cup his cheeks to tip his head back, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Bucky?”
“I like you so much,” Bucky told him, smitten. “I bet I like you more than you like me. May I kiss you, Tony?”
Tony stared up at him a little longer, chewing on his bottom lip, before he finally, softly said, “Yeah. Yes. I do. Whatever you say to a proposal. Bucky if you don’t kiss me, I’ll just keep talking, and I really don’t want to say anything embarrassing while you’re proposing to me and—”
Bucky leaned down to catch his lips with his own. It was an inelegant kiss, he thought, because Tony’s lips were still moving, and it took a moment for them to drift to a stop. He tasted like butter and sugar, which wasn’t necessarily a bad flavor, but hadn’t been what he was expecting. And Tony was so stiff once he realized what was happening, probably so scared to ruin it.
It was wonderful, and Bucky wouldn’t have changed a thing.
“I probably taste like dough,” Tony began as soon as he pulled back. “I’m sorry. Bruce was scolding me about eating the cookie dough if that makes you feel better. Are we engaged now?”
“I don’t mind that you tasted like cookie dough,” Bucky answered before he could babble on. “And yes, we’re ‘engaged’ now.”
“So that means I can hold your hand,” Tony said, in a way that was phrased like a question but said like a statement in no uncertain terms. He reached up to take one of Bucky’s hands and held it in both of his own, smiling down at it.
Bucky swallowed thickly, because that was so fucking cute. “You wanna—um—sit down somewhere and eat all these cookies with me?”
“As long as I get more kisses,” Tony answered, looking back up at him.
Bucky let out a guttural noise and slid his free hand around Tony’s waist to pull him closer. “You’re not going to be able to get me to stop kissing you,” he warned, leaning down to smack another kiss to his lips. When he leaned back, Tony looked delighted, so Bucky rumbled and pulled him even closer. “Or we could forget the cookies.”
“We can forget the cookies,” Tony breathed, then wrapped his arms around his neck to pull him down into another kiss.