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In the end, it was a chocolate cup that got them together. Tony made them often but ate them rarely, as superhero lifestyle notwithstanding, not even he could regularly consume hellishly rich confections of chocolate and cream and still be able to fit into his suits, iron and otherwise.
So he made them, melting high-cocoa content chocolate into warm heavy cream and adding a dash of bitter Italian espresso, and once cool, freezing each one in its own little cup. And on the worst days - when he didn’t save everyone; or the Board or the press were riding him particularly hard; or when he walked in on Pepper and Rhodey snuggling on the couch, or Cap and Sam making eyes at each other over breakfast, or Thor and Bruce doing things in the lab which would almost certainly skew the results of the good Doctors’s experiments, and was reminded yet again that he was nearly 50, alone, and likely to remain so...well, on those days he would thaw out a chocolate cup, top it with a little extra cream and some fresh berries, and eat his feelings.
He figured it was still healthier than a bottle of Scotch.
He’d made them for the others, occasionally, but most of them were not impressed. Cap had grimaced at the slightly bitter flavor and demanded to know why Tony couldn’t “eat a Hershey bar like a normal person.” Thor had insisted that “I appreciate the offer, friend Tony, but it cannot possibly match the delights of my beloved Pop Tarts.” Nat, on the other hand, had liked it - so much so that her exact words had been to: “keep that cocoa-flavored crack well away from a woman who has to wear a catsuit for a living.”
So he ate them alone, usually whilst curled up under a blanket in his workshop, which was what he was doing when Barnes entered, and almost immediately began sniffing the air. That he was there was not unusual. Their relationship had progressed over the past few months from stealing Chinese food, to sharing comforting cups of tea and plates of pasta, to just hanging out together, with and without food - although it was rare that some didn’t make an appearance, what with Tony’s passion for it and Bucky’s appetite for it. But this was the first time Tony had been caught indulging in his own comfort food, and he felt almost embarrassed by it.
“What smells so good Doll? Besides you, I mean.”
That was another change. Bucky had gone from a terrified, non-verbal trauma victim, to a confident, charming flirt - at least he had where Tony was concerned. As he asked the question he swung himself down besides him, flinging an arm around his shoulders and snuggling in like he belonged there.
“It’s er, it’s a chocolate cup. My mama’s recipe. Well, if you can call it a recipe, it’s really simple. Try some.”
Bucky’s eyes darkened and he licked his lips in anticipation as Tony held the treat out to him. However, to the other man’s surprise he didn’t take it from him; instead he slowly shook his head and opened his mouth.
“Feed me? Please.”
His own mouth suddenly going dry, Tony scooped up some creamy chocolate with a few soft, tart berries, and held it out to the soldier, who closed his eyes as it crossed his lips and let out a low moan that left Tony breathless and quite obscenely turned on.
“Mmmm. That’s so good doll. So, so good.”
“You can have it, if you like it that much. Please. I have more.”
Bucky’s eyes opened with quite a wicked gleam and he shook his head again. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Sweet thing needs his sweet things. But I’d be real happy to share.”
So saying he took the cup and spoon, letting his flesh and metal fingers brush against Tony’s as he did so, making him shiver despite the blanket wrapped round him, and fed him a mouthful.
“Good?”
To be truthful, Tony could barely taste it, so focused he was on Bucky’s face, which suddenly seemed very close to his, and on his eyes, which had gone almost black as he watched Tony swallow. But he managed to choke out an answer:
“Yeah...yeah, it’s good.”
“I bet it is Doll. But do you know what I think would make it even better?”
“What? Don’t say sugar, it’s meant to be slightly bitter, it’s not meant to...”
“No, not that. I think it’d be even better if I could taste it from your lips.”
Bucky really was very close now, his breath, chocolate-scented, mingling with Tony’s...
“Can I Tony? Can I taste it on your lips? Please.”
What else could he say? Even the strongest man can only take so much temptation.”
“Yes. Please.”
Bucky closed the remaining distance between immediately, and then - soft, warm, chocolately lips pressed against Tony’s own, gentle but firm. A tongue flickered out to taste, licking the seam of his mouth, then slipping inside when Tony gasped in pleasure. He reached out, clutching at those impossibly broad shoulders, and was immediately welcomed as Bucky drew him in closer, pulling him into his lap.
A few hours or moments later - Tony honestly couldn’t tell - they broke apart, both slightly breathless, both unable to stop gazing at each other.
“That was...”
“Perfection. That was perfection Tony. You’ve no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”
“Really? I had no idea. I thought...I mean, I didn’t think...I thought maybe you just liked sharing food with me.”
“Tony, baby, I love sharing food with you, because that’s how you show love, isn’t it? You share food to tell people you care, because it’s easier than saying the words. Right?”
“...Right.”
“Right. Well, I can’t cook, so I guess I’ll just have to tell you: I love you too Tony. So much.”
Tony had far fewer reasons to curl up and eat chocolate cups alone after that. He still made them though - just for the pleasure of having Bucky feed them to him.