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"Steve. Bucky. Get off of me."
Tony Stark, self-proclaimed genius, billionaire, no-longer a playboy but still a philanthropist, was currently being snuggled and/or crushed in between his two Brooklyn boys. Normally, this would be fine, desired even, but currently he had a jet waiting for him and urgent business to attend to across Europe and Asia. And it seemed as though his boys were trying to keep him planted firmly in the US by sheer force of will and their hella unfair physical advantage. Now, he tried his best to handle his business from home for this very reason. He didn't like being separated either. But every once in a while he had clients who preferred face-to-face interaction when talking business and he couldn't exactly tell Pepper to pass on a multi-billion dollar deal because he would miss his boyfriends.
She would castrate him, and he liked having that part firmly attached (and he was certain that Steve and Bucky did also).
So here he was, fighting relentlessly (and failing utterly, to his dismay) to wrench himself from between the two octopi that he called lovers.
"I am dead serious, you two. I'm already running late, and if I don't get up this instant, I will not make it in time for my first round of negotiations in London."
Steve seemed to realize that he was fighting a ridiculous battle, and without his partner-in-crime, Bucky seemed to lose steam as well. They both flopped onto their backs, and Tony took advantage of their cease-fire to scramble out of bed before they changed their mind and he wound up smothered in poorly timed love and affection again. He really did feel a little bad for just flying away like this, especially since the blow up that had happened a few weeks prior, but they had to understand that he had to do what he had to do. He was sure they understood that.
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They didn't understand that.
He was currently checking his bag to make sure everything was present and chatting with Pepper ("Yes, Pep, I am on my way. No, Pep, this not my fault."), and shoving his boyfriend's (Bucky's) face away every time it tried to worm itself between him and the phone. Clint was laughing at his struggles because he was an annoying asswipe, and Natasha just raised a judgmental eyebrow over the rim of her coffee mug. Tony decided to go with Plan B since Plan A wasn't effective, and the next time Bucky's face made an appearance, he jammed the heel of his expensive shoe into his socked foot. He really didn't want to do that, but he was starting to get real sick of their shit. He wasn't going to run off and never return. It was two weeks. They had gone on missions damn near twice as long as that, with far less communication. So he just shouldered his carry-on, hung up on Pepper, and turned to scold his lovers. This was a decidedly bad plan, because Steve had perfected the wounded puppy look, and Tony was a sucker for that look. Combined with Bucky's pouting rogue face (as he rubbed his abused foot, damn, he felt bad about that), the gravitational pull was almost to strong to ignore. But he would not miss this conference.
"It's two weeks, guys. If that. I'm sure you'll live."
"We just want to be sure you're safe, sweetie-"
"Yeah. Hey, maybe-"
"No."
Bucky's pout deepened.
"You didn't even know what I was going to say."
"You were going to suggest that you accompany me. And I am telling you no."
"Why not?"
"Seriously, Steve? You are supposed to be the reasonable one. You know why not."
And Steve did. As much as he wanted to stick to Tony's side, he couldn't just up and leave his team for no reason. Bucky knew that too, but after the incident that had them literally clutching at Tony's boots, neither of them really wanted to feel that empty feeling that having one of their lovers absent made. Tony's eyes softened, and he walked up to squeeze them both.
"Look. I'll be fine. It's only two weeks. I have access to my suit at all times, and I'll be back in Manhattan lickity-split if some power-crazed egomaniac tries to conquer the world again. I'll call you when I land."
With that, a kiss in either cheek, and a whispered "love you, sol, love you, luna", Tony was off, thanking Happy as he climbed into the car.
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Steve and Bucky were absolutely insufferable nowadays.
Steve was still ever-reliant, completing his tasks as leader unflinchingly, but he still sulked when he had nothing to occupy his time. Thanks to Tony, he had opened up about his feelings more, to both him and the team, but it sort of back-fired when what he was feeling was a petulant grouchiness. And Bucky was silently on-edge, as if he had taken a step back in time to a few months prior when he still didn't trust anyone worth a damn. Steve was able to ward off most of the negativity, but he wasn't as fluent in Italian as Tony, and his singing voice, sadly, left a lot to be desired compared to his. So instead of trying to do a rendering of Tony's lullabies (and failing miserably), all he could do was whisper reassurances that he was still there.Tony, of course, had not taken the news of Bucky's sleeplessness well, not at all, and he had chastised Bucky that he had to hear it from Steve (Bucky had narrowed his eyes and muttered 'snitch', but he wasn't really angry), But it was well worth it, because from then on, JARVIS played a soothing recording Tony had made of Bucky's favorites (he had been a little embarrassed to give them, but Tony had only 'hmm'ed in response and said to wait until he went to bed).
So the fact that he was getting sleep made Bucky a little more tolerable, but there were some things that couldn't be fixed.
Tony couldn't bundle up in the famous blanket burrito during movie night, because he was negotiating/arguing/about to punch the man speaking in the face in Madrid. He couldn't snuggle in bed because he was signing contracts in London. He couldn't spar with them, eat breakfast with them, or go out on dates and eat with them because he was working himself ragged in Paris, Berlin, and Tokyo, respectively. It was almost unnerving how used to just Tony's presence that they had gotten. Tony was like a constant thrum in the background. Impossible to ignore, but so familiar it was almost like they had acclimated to it. The seemingly never-ending string of chatter mixed with whispered Italian endearments and husky promises, the warm touches and cuddles (Tony had long since gotten over the whole 'look how small you are' spiel with Clint) that they reciprocated without a second thought. How he rolled his eyes whenever they did something he deemed 'over-protective', but didn't get angry because he was just as protective in his own, background way; be it going toe-to-toe with Fury when he felt he wasn't taking their safety into account well enough on a mission, or giving biting, sarcastic comments to those who challenged Bucky's mental state that were truly thinly-veiled legitimate threats of severe retaliation.
So yes, they did miss their genius, and yes, it did make them a little grouchy. It was true that they had been gone for longer, with far less communication, but they had never really been on the waiting end. Is this what Tony felt like?
In Bucky's words, it sucked.
But he kept his promise to call every day, though the time varied, and they couldn't help but smile at Tony's decompressing rants about who was being unrealistic, or who was being haughty, or who was just being a grade-A asshole. They asked if he was sleeping, and he asked what they considered a realistic amount of sleep, and then they asked if he was getting any sleep, and he had jokingly asked if naps on the plane counted.
They got the feeling that he wasn't completely joking about that.
But it never failed, that he would always say he loved them before he ended to call. They would tell him to sleep, and he would make a non-committal noise that would have Steve sighing and Bucky gritting his teeth. This was another reason they hated him leaving out of country for work; they couldn't physically wrestle him into bed from across the globe. But all they could do was emphasize how much he meant to them, and that they hoped he would come back in relatively decent condition, to which he would go silent for a minute (not entirely used to having people so openly express their genuine concern for him), and quietly promise that he would.
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Tony wasn't without his own struggles.
He missed having his two enormous space-heaters in his bed with him, because now the bed seemed to big and uninviting. He had brought his stuffed bears, muttering a quick 'don't judge me' to Pepper, but even still, they weren't the same. Fluffy fur wouldn't replace warm muscle, and they didn't smell right, either. So instead, he focused on getting shit done and wrapping shit up, because he was not going to bring any of this home with him. Pepper had taken advantage of his newfound resolve, calmly placing things in front of him one after the other when he completed something. Talking to people was a different story. He was a natural businessman by now, having started learning the game when he was a child, but it still didn't make it easy or entertaining. They were all surprised that the infamous Tony Stark didn't want to discuss over alcohol, which irritated him more than a little. All of the people he spoke to were haughty and over-important; a victim of money and power gone wrong. He winced at the fact that that must have been what he looked like before Afghanistan, and he couldn't help but envision his new ideal spot: snuggled between his two Brooklyn Boys in clothes that he had stolen from them eating a shit-ton of unhealthy food (though he would never, ever catch up with their appetites) and laughing at whatever cheesy sci-fi or action film that someone had chosen for Movie Night, all the while curled into his favorite thick, red blanket that was large enough to cover all three if they squished.
That made the next two Wednesdays a little irritating knowing what he was missing.
But despite this, he was (somewhat) fine, and he was safe, and he only had one more meeting and four more days to go.
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He was barely a step through the elevator doors when he was swept up into a bear hug.
Despite the lingering exhaustion and ever-present jet-lag, he couldn't help but laugh out loud and wrap his arms around...Steve's (he couldn't really tell because his face was squished into his neck, but it smelled like baby powder and his feet were pretty high off the ground, so he was pretty sure it was Steve's) neck. After being squished for a minute, he was put down (hah! It was Steve; he was so good at this relationship thing), only to be immediately swept up and spun around by Bucky. The other Avengers laughed, but gathered around anyway to welcome him home. Clint slapped him on the back.
"Welcome home, man. Finally, these two will stop moping like two year olds who dropped their ice cream."
Both super-soldiers flushed pink, and Tony chuckled.
"It's okay you two. I missed you just as much. The bears just aren't the same."
After leaning down for a 'welcome-home' kiss, all the Avengers gathered for an honorary Movie Night since Tony had missed the last two. And Tony's vision had come true, and he found himself in his favorite position after what felt like a long time. And that was where he fell asleep, and then he found himself in another one of his favorite positions; snuggled between his two super-soldiers in a much more inviting bed than any hotel suite could have.
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