Work Text:
“We should probably get some rest.”
Bucky managed a lazy grin and an equally lazy nod at Steve’s words but made no effort to rise from the long sofa in Stark’s penthouse lounge. The tower wasn’t exactly home, but it was the place where everyone came to recuperate and get a warm meal, especially after returning from a mission. Bucky and Steve had only come back a few hours ago from their latest mission, providing some not-necessarily-needed support for Shuri and the Wakandans. Who knew stopping human traffickers could cause so many body aches? A slight shift on the seat to sit up and he knew there was definitely a bruised rib somewhere.
“I’ll head back in a bit.” He said with a soft groan, falling back against the cushions.
“Aren’t you tired?” Steve questioned from beside him. When he frowned the cut above his eyebrow stung and he tapped a finger to it a few times, pulling his hand back to look at it. Not bleeding anymore.
Bucky nodded even as he verbally answered, “Yeah, exhausted. I just wanna finish my beer.” He gave the bottle a little shake. “It’s nice to be back within four solid walls though.” And to sit in front of a fire he didn’t have to start or worry about putting out, he thought, as he stared at the flames in the hearth before them.
“Sure is. No rough blankets on the ground tonight. Well,” Steve sighed after a moment. He reached out and clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Thanks for covering me out there. You saved my ass.” Bucky lifted bright blue eyes to his and narrowed an eye. “Again,” Steve conceded with that boyish smirk.
Bucky chuckled, nodded, and wished Steve a good night as he brought the Budweiser bottle to his lips. Steve slowly rose with a groan and walked directly into the waiting elevator.
It still amazed Bucky that Stark willingly allowed this ragtag group of vigilantes, spies, a former winter soldier, and others to freely come and go from his tower, using it as a makeshift Avengers Hotel. The billionaire himself kept a small apartment among the smaller bungalows at the place he’d once used as a homebase for his company, but, for the most part, Stark slept in a room off his lab, never too far away from his work — if he slept at all. But everyone left that to Bruce and Rhodey to deal with.
Finishing off his beer, Bucky pushed himself to his feet, careful not to strain any more muscles than he already had, and after rinsing it out, deposited the bottle into the recycle bin. Judging by its nearly full capacity, the tower’s rooms must’ve been equally full tonight. Too wiped to think about who might be milling around in the morning, Bucky headed for the elevator, stifling a yawn. He watched the numbers slowly descend to his floor — the same as Steve’s, but on the other opposite side of the building — contemplating how long he might let himself sleep before he got started on his report the next day.
He was planning it all out as he walked to his door, absently pulling out the key, and unlocking the door. The moment he stepped inside he sensed something was different than when he left it. The apartment assigned to him was larger than the one he kept in Brooklyn, but it was just as sparsely decorated. In his line of business, it wasn’t exactly ideal to plant roots or get attached to anything. The room here and now was lit only by the pale blue moonlight streaming through the tall, wide windows displaying the city and off in the distance, the Brooklyn Bridge.
Bucky wondered if he should’ve just gone home as he scanned the room and moved silently to the bedroom door. It was less than a half-hour by subway. Pulling his gun from its strap, safety off, Bucky listened for any sounds even as his eyes scanned the area before pushing the door open and aiming the gun at his bed.
Seeing the hint of pale fingers rising in a surrender gesture in the shadows of one corner, Bucky locked and re-holstered the gun with an exasperated noise.
“What the fuck, Loki?”
Dressed in his usual casual outfit of a green tunic and black pants, Loki emerged from the corner and crossed his arms. “I was only awaiting your return. I didn’t realize you’d come in guns a-blazing like — what do they call them? Cowboys?”
Bucky scoffed and began to remove his gear, dumping it on the dark tufted chair beside his dresser. “What are you doing here? How’d you even get in?”
It was Loki’s turn to scoff. “Hello? I’m a god, remember? I can go anywhere I please. Your human locks are like Odin’s fatherly approval to me: nonexistent.”
Bucky jerked his head back. “Well, that got dark fast,” he muttered, finally dropping the last of his weapons. He gripped his shirt, tugging it free from his pants, then reached for his belt. “Is there something you need? ‘Cause I just got back from—”
“A mission in Wakanda, I know,” Loki finished, his voice lowered. “How is Shuri? I’ve missed…talking shop with her. Her technology is impressive. Even to an As—well, a former Asgardian.”
Bucky kicked off his second boot and stopped, watching Loki with more focused eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Loki raised his head, lifting a brow. “Must something be wrong? Are we not friends? Can’t I simply wish to welcome you—“
“Lokes.”
Loki took a long beat before he smirked, chuckling a little, and lowered to the foot of the bed. “Nothing’s wrong. Honestly. I was just…eager to say hello. Thought you might want to talk. Maybe shake off the mission. You must be hurt. I can hear you trying not to groan with every movement.”
Bucky went still then, realizing Loki was right, he moaned a little as he let out the breath he’d been holding. He was really feeling the aches now. As if his body knew the bed was so close. “I’m fine, Loki. It’s just taking a little longer for me to heal, that’s all. But, really, I’m just looking forward to collapsing into bed.” He moved to the dresser behind him to grab a pair of sweatpants and a fresh shirt from the drawers.
“Oh, well, don’t let me get in your way.” Loki crossed one leg over the other, seemingly planting himself in that spot.
Bucky, his back turned to Loki, grinned a little to himself, unbuttoning his pants and kicking them aside once they dropped. “We said we were gonna stop,” he said as he slipped on the sweatpants.
The silence was blaring behind him. To give Loki whatever time he needed, Bucky stripped off his shirt, slipped a clean one over his head, and piled his soiled clothes in the corner along with his socks.
“I know what we said,” came the reply finally.
Tying the drawstring on his pants, Bucky turned to face Loki. He noted how Loki wouldn’t meet his eyes, turning his face away, toward the windows. The moon shone brighter at this angle, lighting up the part of Bucky’s room open to the windows. And Bucky could see Loki’s face now, that it was paler than usual, with dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks a little hollower than usual.
Sensing his appointment with sleep was about to be delayed, Bucky crossed over to sit beside Loki on the bed. “So what’d you get up to while I was gone?” he asked casually.
“Not much,” Loki answered with a shrug, still looking out the window. “Worked on some spells, conjured up some new tinctures. Avoided Thor.”
Bucky laughed quietly, the bed shaking with the movement. “He was here?”
“Only for a few hours, Hail Frigga,” Loki said with a dry laugh that grew more genuine when Bucky chuckled too.
“Loki,” Bucky murmured after their laughter died down.
Loki’s smile faded, and he lowered his eyes. “Please,” he all but whispered.
Bucky grinned lopsidedly but bit his lip. “You said no more.”
“I know. I lied.”
Bucky snickered and dropped his head on Loki’s shoulder. He was just so tired. “You told me not to let you anymore,” he whispered.
Loki turned his head, nuzzling his cheek against Bucky’s nose. “You shouldn’t listen to me. I’m an idiot.”
“Lokes,” he snorted. Bucky slipped his hand into Loki’s, felt his cold skin cool against his warm palm. “You’re not an idiot. And I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t listen to you.”
Loki nudged him with his elbow. Bucky only groaned softly and closed his heavy eyes, comfortable enough in Loki’s presence to let his guard down.
“I’m barely hanging on here, babe. You should probably go back to your room.”
Loki turned his body toward Bucky’s, clutching his hand tightly between his own in his lap. “I don’t want to. Just one more night, James. Please? I know what I’m asking…”
“Do you?” Bucky sat up and released Loki’s hand, so he could balance himself.
For the first time that night, Loki met Bucky’s gaze. Even through his tiredness and the pale moonlight, Bucky could see Loki was equally as exhausted as he was. He hasn’t slept , he realized with a spark of concern. Hard as he tried, Bucky couldn’t stop himself from worrying about Loki.
“Look, Loki—”
He held up a hand to cut Bucky off. “No, I know. I know I don’t make this any easier for you.” He uncrossed his legs and turned away from Bucky. “I don’t mean to be selfish, you know. I don’t mean to hurt you. It’s just that…”
Bucky waited for the answer, but none came. “What?” he urged, nudging Loki’s arm with his fingers.
Loki inhaled deeply and turned his eyes to Bucky’s again, and with a quiver in his voice, he said, “I don’t have nightmares when you’re there.”
Bucky swallowed thickly. “Oh.” The revelation was one thing. They’d initially bonded over their shared experiences with torture and brainwashing. Few, if any, of the others could relate. But the tears clinging to Loki’s long black lashes was quite another. Bucky hadn’t seen Loki so vulnerable before. He wasn’t at all sure what to do, but to scratch at his head with the metal fingers, searching for the right words. “Um…”
Loki shifted and Bucky saw the moment he shut down and that cool mask slid into place. His dark emerald green eyes cleared instantly, and his lips, already thin, thinned even further. “Forget it. Forget I said anything. Forget this ever happened. I’ll go.”
“No!” Bucky shouted the word, grasping for Loki’s arm as he rose and tugging so hard, that the sleeve of his tunic ripping cut into the silence between them. “Shit!” Bucky shot up to his feet, but only stammered out an apology and held out the torn piece of his tunic to Loki.
Loki took it and clenched his jaw. “James, I’m getting rather mixed signals from you.” In one long sweep of his hand, Loki’s tunic was repaired and the ripped piece disappeared. “You won’t allow me to have a restful night’s sleep in your bed, yet you seem eager to quite literally rip off my clothes.”
Bucky slapped the non-metal palm to his face. “I swear, I didn’t mean to do that. And I was going to tell you that it’s fine, you can stay here. I just got a little thrown off by the tears in your eyes.” He started to turn away but decided he had more to say. “And you know what? Speaking of mixed signals, what kind are you sending to me exactly? I mean, you know very well how I feel about you and you continuously torture me by coming to my room and begging to sleep — just sleep! — in my bed, beside me, all long legs and silky hair, and I’m doing my damndest to be a gentleman and be understanding because we are friends, but it’s fucking killing me when I wake up and there you are, just causally wrapped around my—”
It took Bucky’s brain a good five seconds to compute that his epic rant had been cut short by Loki and that he was currently being lovingly and tenderly kissed by the longtime object of his affection. As Loki’s lips pressed against his, Bucky slowly sank into the kiss, taking the opportunity to deepen it and pull Loki’s body against his.
Needing the air to breathe, and realizing what he was doing, Bucky took one giant step back.
“What is happening right now?”
Loki swiped a finger across his bottom lip. “Well, something that was a long time coming, I think. Don’t you?”
Bucky relaxed, glared. “Don’t be a dick.” Loki cocked a brow, this time in confusion, and Bucky scoffed. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean. You’re practically BFFs with Stark and he’s the sassiest bitch in this place. So I know you’re learning some shit.” He looked up and caught the smile lighting up Loki’s face. “What does this mean?”
Loki’s expression turned thoughtful as he closed the distance between them and ran his hands up Bucky’s chest to wrap around his neck underneath the dark brown strands of his hair. “I think what it means, darling, is that your love is no longer unrequited.”
Bucky gawked at Loki. “Really?” he asked, his voice soft. Loki nodded and leaned in to kiss him again. But just as their lips touched Bucky sprang back. “Is this just because of the nightmares?”
Loki laughed, throwing his head back. “No. Well, not entirely.” He breathed out a sigh, as if a weight had been lifted from him, and kept his hands on Bucky’s chest. “I suppose it took me a little while to realize how stupid I would be to keep denying what I was feeling.”
Their eyes met and Bucky felt his stomach flip at the expression in Loki’s gaze. “But why—?”
“I’m not very good at this, James. Physically, it’s not difficult to navigate. But everything else that goes with it…” Loki turned his face again and nearly stepped away from Bucky. But Bucky was there, keeping a tight grip on him. “I ruined whatever it was between Fandral and I, and I—I ruined him. He can barely stand the sight of me now. I don’t want that to happen with you.”
“It won’t.” Loki skeptically angled his head and Bucky grinned. “I’m not great at this either, okay? Back in my day, I couldn’t do this. Not without major consequences. And I never really knew anyone I was willing to risk it with. Until you.”
“How romantic of you,” Loki murmured with his signature facetiousness.
“Shut up, Mischief. I’m saying, we don’t have to sneak around anymore, right? We also don’t have to rush into anything neither of us isn’t ready for. So…” He ran a finger down the side of Loki’s face. “How ‘bout we just see where it goes, okay, doll?”
Loki fluttered his lashes, swooning. “I do love it when you call me that.”
This time, Bucky let the kiss happen, wrapping both of his arms around Loki and holding him tight. He laughed against Loki’s mouth when the nimble god leapt up and wrapped his legs around Bucky’s waist.
“Um, off to bed then?”
“Hm, I thought you were tired?”
Bucky let out a low growl, near purr, at Loki’s fingers carding through his hair. “I might’ve gotten a second wind.”