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Tony Stark - Chief Executive Officer of Stark Consolidated - sighed as he finished his shitty coffee machine coffee at the Interstate rest stop. Shitty coffee machine coffee was better than no coffee, but just barely. He tossed the disposable cup in the trash, and headed for his car. The hot and humid air of Midwestern corn fields hit him like the hotter but much drier air of Afghanistan never did.
Three-piece Tom Ford suits had never bothered him there, but here, where the temp was easily thirty degrees cooler, he’d already tossed the jacket and the waistcoat. The only good thing about this trip he was taking was the Cherry Red rag top Roadster with black and white racing stripes. He so rarely got the chance to take the Roadster out, much less on long drives.
The Roadster was Tony’s pride and joy, and one of the few holdovers from his previous life. He absently ran his left hand over the words on his left collarbone, frowning as he remembered when he first saw them.
“It’s okay, Mr Stark, I’ve got you, you’re going to be okay,"” was written in the most gorgeous cursive Tony had ever seen, in the bold black of Soulmates who had touched. And Tony had no idea who it was.
Tony’s memories of his last visit to Afghanistan were scattered, if he any memory at all. He clearly remembered boarding the Stark Industries corporate jet in Malibu, and vaguely remembered giving a weapons demo to soldiers, somewhere in what he thought might have been the Helmand province. He knew, from Rhodey telling him and reading the incident reports, that the convoy between the demo sight and the Green Zone had come under attack, and he’d been badly injured. His next real memory was of waking up in the intensive care unit in the Maria Stark Wing of Stuyvesant Memorial Hospital.
Months later, after his first solo shower, he wiped the condensation off the mirror and saw his words for the first time. And promptly screamed like a ten-year old girl. Which brought what felt like half the hospital running, including Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy.
Over the next few months, while doing his therapy and recovering, Tony made lists of who his Soulmate could be. The resulting list was… far too long, even for someone with Tony’s fame and wealth. The best they could figure, it was someone he met sometime between the convoy attack and him waking up in Brooklyn. Pepper, ever the romantic, thought it was one of the soldiers in the convoy, the ones who kept him alive long enough for the helicopter to get him to the doctors at the British base, who were the ones who stabilized him enough for the flight to the United States.
Tony liked that thought. It was better than Happy’s thought about it being a gold-digging nurse here in Brooklyn, or Rhodey’s dismissive take on ever finding his Soulmate. If it was an American soldier, one deployed to an active war zone, there was at least a chance he’d find them. And a chance, no matter how slim or fleeting, was enough for Tony.
Tony’s near-death experience changed his perspective on things. Enough so that he wanted to shut down Stark Industries weapons line. Pepper - of all people - talked him out of it, convincing him to step down at C.E.O. and let someone else take over. She was also the person who convinced him to give the company to Rhodey. Well, sort of. He made Pepper acting-C.E.O., and had several hundred pages of legal documentation stating that the company was to go to Air Force Colonel James "Rhodey" Rhodes when he retired or otherwise left the Air Force. Rhodey was less than thrilled at the conflict of interest paperwork the Air Force had required.
Once everything settled out, Stark Industries started making even more money than it ever had with Tony as C.E.O.. And then Tony, quietly, dropped off the radar.
He didn’t drop off it completely, becoming a shut in hermit in the Adirondacks or something. He distanced himself from Stark Industries, starting up Stark Consolidated as a shell corporation, allowing him to buy large swaths of real estate and farmland. The real estate he fixed up and returned to the towns and cities it belonged to, as low-income housing, or newly-renovated warehouses, the sort the major distribution companies wanted. The newly-renovated warehouses, if managed correctly, would mean major contracts, and major contracts meant jobs.
The farmland he almost immediately signed back over to the farmer. He had a reputation for being able to pull off auctions at the last minute, and after signing the land back over to the owners, he soon had a completely new reputation. One he didn’t mind all that much.
Along with their newly-paid off land, the farmers received stipends to improve their sustainability, be it adding solar panels to their fields, or decreasing their pesticide usage by encouraging natural predators to move in, such as bluebirds, owls, and snakes. Anything to eat the pests before they became an issue that called for pesticides.
Which was why he was even in Indiana in the first place. He stretched, sighed, and started his Roadster. He merged onto the interstate, and was soon speeding his way towards his next meeting.
He was more than a few miles off the highway, on a rural state road, kicking himself for forgetting that farms tended to be on poorly maintained dirt roads, when his roadster made a dangerous sound. Remembering Jarvis’ driving lessons all those years, Tony immediately downshifted, and let the car slow down as he pulled onto the side of the road. The car slowed to a stop, leaving Tony very clearly stranded on the side of the road. He pulled his phone out, thanking his lucky stars that he had one bar of cell service.
He quickly texted Pepper a pin to his location, along with a text about him being broken down on the side of the road. She gave an unimpressed reply, which he ignored, trying to contact his insurance company to get him towed to… Smallville?
What the actual fuck?
Bucky thanked Logan as the grumpy asshole dropped his most recent pickup at the shop. A short, attractive man hopped out of the passenger seat, rushing around to the back to gently rub his hands over the fenders, muttering something about being sorry for how he’d treated the car. Bucky watched, stunned as he turned back around. Tony Stark was in his mechanic bay. His Soulmate was in his shop.
Tony Stark turned, and gave Bucky a friendly smile. There was no recognition in his warm brown eyes.
“So, Logan here says you’re the best mechanic in a hundred mile radius,” he said. “Any chance you get me up and running? I have a meeting tomorrow at Purdue.”
“Let me…” Bucky started, his feet absently taking him closer to Stark. “Let me take a look and see what I can do. Do you know what happened?”
“There was a loud noise in the engine, but no steam or smoke or anything,” Stark said. He absently rubbed the fender again.
“Let’s get her up and I’ll see what I can do,” Bucky said. He gave Stark another glance. It was clear that Stark had no idea who he was, or that they’d even met. It hurt, even more so than the bullet that ended his career.
“This could take a while,” Bucky said. “There’s a diner on Main Street, if you want to go get something to eat. You also could check into the Inn, just in case.”
“Think it’ll take that long?” Stark asked.
“No idea, but the Smallville Inn is the closest hotel,” Bucky said, absently waving to Logan for a hand getting the Roadster up on the lifts. “Even if I can figure out what’s wrong and fix it, you’ll likely end up needing to spend the night here, instead of in West Lafayette.”
Stark looked at him, not moving.
“That’s assuming I have the part in stock and don’t have to special order it,” Bucky added. Stark nodded absently, and pulled a briefcase from the Roadster. He nodded at Bucky and Logan, and left the shop, turning the wrong direction down Main Street. Bucky watched for a moment, before shrugging and helping Logan get the car where it needed to go for him to take a look at it.
“Do you know him or something?” Logan asked. Bucky shrugged.
“I think I met him in Afghanistan,” Bucky said, neatly sidestepping the whole Soulmates thing.
“Shit, were you part of the convoy…” Logan started, before trailing off and shaking his head.
“Yeah, yeah, I was,” Bucky said. Logan grunted, and they got the car onto the lift. Bucky hit the button, lifting the car up, and got to work.
A few hours later, Tony dragged himself and his suitcases up to the third floor of the Smallville Inn. The mechanic - Bucky, apparently - hadn’t been able to fix the Roadster. Tony wasn’t entirely surprised, as this was such a small town that it was literally named “Smallville.” It couldn't get much smaller that that, could it? He’d already called Purdue and let them know that he was going to completely miss the meeting he had with them tomorrow. Unless they had a way to get him to West Lafayette, which they might. Bucky had offered up a loaner, but it was the sort of junker Tony wasn’t sure would make it to the highway, much less West Lafayette.
The room was nice, at least, Tony thought, as he unlocked the door and stepped in, dropping his bags on the bed. A little small, sure, but well-appointed. The TV was relatively new, and the bedspread was soft to the touch. The room gave off the feeling of being warm and cozy. Tony was sure he’d sleep well.
A few days later, Tony was still stuck in Smallville. He’d somehow convinced the mechanic to let him help with the Roadster, even if the part hadn’t come in yet. The Roadster had needed a lot of work, once Bucky had gotten it up on the lift and the engine open.
“So, what’s this about Smallville?” Tony asked. “Is it anything like Truth or Consequences?”
“Truth or Consequences?” Bucky asked, distracted. “Like the game show?”
“Radio show,” Tony corrected. “Town in New Mexico that was called Hot Springs, but voted to change the name. It stuck and they never changed it.”
“Oh, that,” Bucky said. He reached out with one hand, and Tony saw what looked like a prosthetic. There was the slightest flash of metal between his sleeve and his work gloves. Tony made a mental note to look into whether it was a Stark prosthesis or not.
“No, we’re not like Truth and Consequences,” Bucky continued.
“Or,” Tony corrected. “Truth or Consequences, New Mexico.”
“Whatever. Truth or Consequences,” Bucky said. “How are we like this town?”
“Smallville,” Tony said. “You know, like Superman.”
Bucky groaned, tossing the wrench onto the ground with a clatter. “Smallville is not named after the Superman town. In fact, we predate Superman by about a hundred years.”
“Seriously?” Tony asked.
“Yep,” Bucky said. “Smallville was named after the white founding family - the Smalls - in 1821. One of the attorneys downtown - Henry Small - he’s descended from them. But, believe you me, I’ve heard all the jokes.”
“All of them?” Tony asked, grinning. “You seriously think you’ve heard all of them?”
“I promise, Mr Stark,” Bucky said, grinning. “I’ve heard them all.”
Something fluttered across Tony’s Soulword as Bucky said that. He absently ran his hand along his collarbone, where his words were carefully hidden beneath extra layers. Bucky hadn’t said anything similar to them.
“You okay?” Bucky asked after a moment. Tony looked up, gave himself a sharp mental shake, and smiled.
“Yeah, lost in my thoughts,” he said, picking up a mostly clean rag and wiping oil stained hands on it.
“So,” Logan said, taking a long swig from his beer bottle. “You met your Soulmate in Afghanistan.”
“Yes,” Bucky said, taking a sip of his rum and coke.
“And your Soulmate is Tony Stark,” Logan said. “The Tony Fucking Stark.”
“Again, yes,” Bucky said.
“And then, you were injured in the same attack,” Logan continued, ignoring Bucky.
“That I was,” Bucky muttered.
“And you think that you’re not worthy of him,” Logan said, “because you’re missing an arm.”
“Something like that,” Bucky muttered.
“And now,” Logan continued, “he’s here in Smallville.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure that he doesn’t know.”
“Also yes.”
“You’re completely sure?” Logan pushed. “Like, ‘beyond a reasonable doubt’ sure?”
“Completely and totally sure,” Bucky said. “He didn’t recognize me at the shop.”
Logan whistled. “Ooo, that’s bad.”
“Yeah,” Bucky said into his drink.
“Any chance he knows but isn’t sure if you know?” Logan asked after a moment of quiet contemplation.
“No…” Bucky sighed. “I… I looked him up a few times. He’s said multiple interviews that he doesn’t know who his soulmate is. He… uh… he suspects that his soulmate was a soldier.”
Logan gave Bucky a look over his beer bottle, eyebrows raised. Bucky sighed.
“Yeah, I know,” Bucky muttered, finishing his drink and waving for the check.
“You know what I’m gonna say,” Logan said, pulling his wallet out and dropping a few bills on the table to cover his beers.
Bucky muttered to himself as he signed their credit card slip, tucking Logan’s cash into his wallet.
“I’m gonna tell you to ‘cowboy up’,” Logan said, sighing when Bucky groaned at him. “Go. Talk to him. It’s possible that he knows, but he thinks you don’t know.”
“I doubt that,” Bucky muttered, putting his jacket on. Logan sighed, growling low in his throat as they left the bar.
“I think it’s him,” Tony said, taking a long drink of his Scotch. The Smallville General Store had a remarkably good selection, for being in the middle of nowhere Indiana.
“You think who is who?” Pepper asked. Despite the late hour, she was still working. And it wasn’t even the time change, it was late even in California, where she was.
“I think I found my Soulmate,” Tony said.
“You think you found your Soulmate in… Smallville?” Pepper asked. “Is that for real? Smallville?”
“I already got the lecture about the name,” Tony said. “No, seriously, the town mechanic has an entire lecture about the name.”
“The town mechanic?” Pepper asked. “What is this, a Hallmark movie?”
“He’s a vet,” Tony said. “Afghanistan. Get this, he was one of the soldiers in the convoy.”
“The convoy?” Pepper asked. “We looked into all of them. None were a match.”
Tony sighed, his shoulders sagging as his hopes were dashed.
“Except,” Pepper said, tapping away at something on her laptop.
“Except…?” Tony asked, do his best not get his hopes up again.
“There was one we weren’t able to track,” Pepper said. “He was injured in the same convoy attack.”
“Who, who was it?” Tony asked, well aware of how he sounded. It was, after all, the hope that kills you.
“Sergeant James Barnes,” Pepper said.
“I got the part,” Bucky said. He’d bumped into Tony at the Smallville Diner.
“What part?” Tony asked, before it clicked. “Oh, it came in?”
“Arrived first thing this morning,” Bucky said. “I’ll have her fixed up and ready to go tomorrow, at the latest.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Tony said. “Let me know how much I owe you for the part, shipping, labor, all that stuff.”
“Yeah, of course,” Bucky said. “I’ll put an invoice together once I get the part in.”
“I thought it was here?” Tony asked, confused. Bucky just said that the part had arrived and was ready to be installed.
“Yeah, it’s in,” Bucky said. “Oh, hehe, ‘in’ as in ‘in the Roadster’. I’m not sure how long it’s gonna take to install it. Probably a few hours. I should have you on the road to West Lafayette by lunch tomorrow.”
“Oh,” Tony said. “Okay. Uh, that’s great news.”
“Yeah, I, uh, I gotta get back to the shop,” Bucky said, collecting a bag of takeaway from Remy, the owner of the Smallville Diner.
“Yeah, uh, I’ll uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, to settle up,” Tony said. Bucky nodded awkwardly, leaving the diner. Tony frowned as he left.
“Something is wrong,” Remy LeBeau - owner of the Smallville Dinner - said as he walked up to Tony, taking a seat across from him and placing an extra plate of french fries on the table in front of him. “Care to enlighten me?”
Tony sighed, grabbing a fry off the plate, dragging it through some ketchup, and stuffing it into his mouth.
“What are you, my therapist?” Tony asked.
“Nah, cher, I’m just a good judge of character,” Remy said, his New Orleans accent coming out more strongly than usual. “You were fine until Bucky said something to you. About a car, maybe?”
“He’ll be finished with my Roadster tomorrow, and I can get out of town,” Tony said.
“And there’s a problem with that?” Remy asked. “A few days ago, you couldn’t wait to get out of town.”
“A few days ago, I knew what I wanted out of life,” Tony muttered.
“And now you don’t?” Remy asked, continuing when Tony frowned. “What changed?”
“I don’t know,” Tony admitted, stuffing more fries in his mouth. Remy smiled, and stood without another word.
“I think you do,” he said, continuing, “but you don’t want to admit it to yourself.”
“It’s over,” Bucky said. “The part came and I installed it this afternoon.”
“So he’s gone?” Logan asked.
“Tomorrow,” Bucky said. “He has to come by to settle up.”
“So tell him,” Logan said. “When he comes by the shop.”
“That’s a great conversation,” Bucky said. “That’ll be two thousand dollars, cash or card? Oh, and, by the way, I’m your Soulmate.”
Logan just about snorted beer out of his nose.
“Not like that,” Logan said. “Just have a conversation with the man.”
Bucky grumbled, but agreed to at least attempt to talk with Stark the next day about the whole Soulmates things.
“Sorry, I’m in a rush,” Tony said, putting his briefcase on the ground. His luggage was already in the Roadster.
“In a rush?” Bucky asked, confused.
“Purdue rescheduled our meeting,” Tony explained, “for like four hours from now, and it’s about a four hour drive to West Lafayette.”
“That is a rush,” Bucky agreed, tapping away on his register and bringing up the invoice for the work on the car. “Let’s get you settled up and you can get on the road to West Lafayette.”
“Works for me,” Tony said, swiping his credit card. He handed Bucky a significant tip in cash, collected his keys, and loaded himself and his briefcase into the car. He waved at Bucky as he started her up, grinning at the purr of a perfectly tuned engine. He winked, put his sunglasses on, and was out of the shop in moments, heading to his meeting. He had a job to do, a job that was part of his real life.
“You’re extra mopey today,” Remy said as he rang Bucky’s takeout order up. “Care to explain?”
Bucky sighed, but slowly pulled the left shoulder of his red henley to the side, revealing his Soulwords. Remy whistled. He leaned back, nodded, before unbuttoning his left cuff and pushing his sleeve up, revealing his words.
“Don’t ‘cherie’ me, cher” Remy said, smilingly softly. “I knew she was the one from the moment she said that. Do you think he’s the one?”
“I don’t know,” Bucky said. “How do I know if he’s the one?”
“You don’t,” Remy said with a very Gaelic shrug.
“But you just said…” Bucky started, trailing off. Remy grinned that crooked grin of his, winked at Bucky, and disappeared in the kitchen, leaving Bucky with his takeout and credit card slip. Bucky signed the slip, leaving a nice tip, and gathered his stuff, heading back to his shop.
“I don’t know what to do,” Bucky said. Logan gave him a look, his eyebrows raised.
“Clearly,” Logan said dryly. “If you knew what to do, you would have done it already.”
Bucky groaned, and slumped down, his head on his hands on the counter.
“I’m such a mess,” Bucky said, his voice muffled by his hand.
“Well aware,” Logan muttered, just loud enough for Bucky to hear. Bucky groaned and gave Logan the finger.
“You’re my mess,” Logan continued. “Not like that, though. Wade would… Well...”
“Wade?” Bucky asked, propping himself up on one hand.
“My… Soulmate,” Logan said. “We… matched… when we were both deployed.”
Bucky knew better than to say a word, as Logan rarely spoke about himself, much less his past. And never of his time in the Special Forces. Bucky hadn’t known that Logan had a Soulmate, much less their - his? - name.
“He was… injured in Afghanistan,” Logan continued, playing with the cuff of his left sleeve. Bucky was sure his Soulwords were hidden there. “He’s back home, now, and healing. But… if I knew who he was, and that I’d let him go… I would never forgive myself.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Bucky asked, biting his tongue to avoid asking about Wade. Bucky wasn’t even sure if Wade was the first or last name. Logan nodded, finishing his beer.
“Your Soulmate was lost in Afghanistan,” Logan said. “If I thought I’d lost Wade, and then discovered him, alive…” Logan shrugged.
“You think I should… do what?” Bucky asked. “Go after him?"
“I think you should tell him,” Logan said. “In person, not over the phone or in a letter. You never know who’s listening in on phone calls and letters go missing.”
That was the Logan Bucky knew well.
“So I should go to him?” Bucky asked. “Follow him to Purdue?”
“Oh, that’s where he went,” Logan muttered. “What was he doing in Smallville?”
“Fuck if I know,” Bucky muttered. Logan muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “you know you’d like to fuck,” which Bucky chose to ignore, for the moment.
“Yes, you idiot,” Logan finally said. “Go to him. Tell him. Explain why you never looked for him. He’s your Soulmate, he’ll forgive you.”
“You’re sure about that?” Bucky asked.
“I’m sure, Buck,” Logan said. He stood, pressed a hand against Bucky’s shoulder in a surprisingly out of character gesture of comfort and support, and left the bar.
Bucky sat there for a few minutes, thinking about what Logan said as he finished his drink. By the time he waved for the check, he knew what he had to do.
“And that is why I want to donate ten million dollars to create an endowment for future farmers,” Tony said, ending his presentation. Everyone was staring at him, stunned.
“Stunned you into silence, did I?” Tony asked with a chuckle. “So, ten million. Who’s in?”
“What’s the catch?” someone finally asked.
“I’m glad you asked,” Tony said, clicking back to the correct slide in his presentation. “Nothing. Except the future farmers must be interested in long-term sustainability practices.”
“Like solar panels on graze lands,” someone else said.
“And encouraging the nesting of rodent eating machines such as owls by way of nest boxes,” Tony said.
“We will, of course, have to discuss it with the leadership,” Paul Smith said. He was the person Tony had spent the last two weeks rescheduling. Even a ten million dollar donation wasn’t enough to smooth those ruffled feathers.
“Of course,” Tony agreed. “You know how to reach me?”
“Assuming you don’t get stuck in the middle of nowhere again, yes,” Smith said, slightly more acidly than Tony was expecting. The rest of the team turned to look at him, clearly a little surprised.
“I’ll try not to have car trouble in the future,” Tony said dryly. The room chuckled, the tension dissipating slightly. He made inane small talk as the meeting ended and he gathered his stuff, tucking his USB drive in his pocket as he left.
He pulled his phone out, absently scrolling through his emails while trying to decide if he wanted to stay in West Lafayette or head on to Chicago or somewhere… less Big Ten. He thought he saw someone waving at him out of the corner of his eye, but kept going. He didn’t know anyone in West Lafayette, after all. He made it to his Roadster, carefully got inside, and placed his phone in the cradle, before heading towards a place where he should be able to get some coffee and a snack on his way to… Chicago. Yeah, Chicago sounded good.
Bucky slumped, head in his hands, watching Tony’s vintage roadster leave. He’d just missed Tony, who must not have seen him waving. He’d lost him, again.
A few weeks later, Pepper skidded as she came running into Tony’s office. She grabbed the doorframe to keep herself from falling over.
“Tony!” She said, panting. “You found him! You found James Barnes!”
“I found who?” Tony asked, confused. He saved his work, turning to Pepper. “Who’s James Barnes?”
“The mechanic,” Pepper said “In Indiana.”
“Bucky?” Tony asked, still very confused.
“Who the hell is Bucky?” Pepper asked. Tony huffed a laugh, getting to his feet.
“The mechanic. In Smallville,” Tony said. He reached out, and gently gripped Pepper’s shoulders.
“The mechanic was named Bucky,” he said gently. “Not James.”
Pepper smiled at him, and slammed the file into his chest, causing him to release her with a sharp, gasping exhale.
“The only member of the convoy that we weren’t able to track down?” she asked. “Was James Barnes. James Buchanan Barnes.”
“That’s one hell of a middle name,” Tony said. “His parents were history buffs?”
“No clue,” Pepper said. “But it’s him, it’s the same person.”
“How could you… how could you possibly know that?” Tony asked. There was no point in asking Pepper if she was sure; it was Pepper, of course she was sure.
“According to this file,” Pepper said, “he was injured in the same convoy attack, where he lost an arm - his left. We brought him here as an early participant in the prosthesis program. He left after the final tests, and we haven’t been able to reach him since.”
Tony took a deep breath. There was no way.
“Does, uh, does the file have… his hometown?” Tony asked. Pepper smiled even wider. She opened the file, and Tony saw a photo of a man who might have been Bucky. He might have been any one of a thousand wounded veterans. He might have been Tony’s Bucky. Tony couldn’t help but get his hopes up, the same hopes of finding his Soulmate that had long been dashed.
“Smallville, Indiana.”
“I lost him,” Bucky said. “Again.”
“You lost him. Again,” Logan said.
“I lost him,” Bucky repeated. “Again.”
“Yeah, I got that the first time,” Logan muttered. Bucky gave him the finger.
“What are you going to do about it?” Logan asked.
“I don’t know,” Bucky said. “Nothing.”
“You could… go to him,” Logan suggested. “His address is rather publicly on the internet. It’s probably attached to his credit card and insurance information, come to think of it.”
“That feels like cheating,” Bucky said mulishly.
“Going to him is not cheating,” Logan said.
“No, the credit card… never mind,” Bucky muttered, trailing off when Logan gave him a look saying he knew that Bucky was intentionally misunderstanding him.
“Go to him,” Logan stressed. “Tell him.”
Bucky made a prevaricating sound, which Logan ignored.
“He deserves to know,” Logan finished. “He deserves the chance to make his own decisions about the entire situation.”
“What if… what if he doesn’t want to be my Soulmate?” Bucky asked.
“That’s his decision,” Logan said. “You said he’s talked about looking for his Soulmate.”
“According to Google, anyway, yes,” Bucky said. He didn’t want to admit that he’d read almost every single article about Tony Stark since that day in Afghanistan. He’d pored over the ones where Tony mentioned his Soulmate with more attention than he’d ever spent in school. Which was perhaps while he graduated high school with a 2.1 weighted GPA, come to thank of it.
Logan gave him a look that Bucky didn’t have any issue interpreting. Logan thought he wasn’t telling him everything.
“What did he say about his Soulmate?” Logan asked knowingly. Bucky sighed, before pulling his phone out, scrolling through his notes application.
“You took notes?” Logan asked. “Seriously? You took notes?”
“Shut up,” Bucky muttered, finding what he was looking for.
“Yeah, but you took notes,” Logan said. Bucky gave him the finger before handing him his phone. Logan frowned as he read the screenshot of the article Bucky had taken.
“Huh,” Logan said, as he finished reading. He looked up, over the screen and over Bucky’s shoulder, his eyes narrowing. “Hmm.”
“What?” Bucky asked. “What do you think?”
“I think he’s interested in getting to know his Soulmate,” Logan said. “But it’s not what I think that matters.”
“It matters to me,” Bucky said. “You’re my friend; I want to know what you think.”
“I think…” Logan started, his eyes tracking something or someone over Bucky’s shoulder. “I think it matters… what Stark thinks.”
“That’s the problem,” Bucky said. “I don’t know what he thinks.”
“You could always ask him,” Logan said, motioning to someone over Bucky’s shoulder.
“Yeah, you’re right, I could always ask him,” Bucky said sarcastically. “Because that’s something that’s going to happen.”
“Anything’s possible,” Logan said. Bucky felt someone step behind him, but forced himself not to react, since Logan wasn’t worrying. It was one of the things he was working on. Random people at a bar should not be setting off his PTSD, even if they were directly behind him.
“That’s my motto,” a very familiar voice said. “Well, one of them, at least.”
“Anything’s possible?” Logan asked with a smile.
“Anything goes, specifically,” Tony said. He reached out awkwardly over Bucky, offering Logan his hand. “Tony Stark. I think you were the guy who picked me up when my car broke down.”
“Logan. Wilson,” Logan said, shaking Tony’s hand. Bucky’s brain just about short circuited, as he was reasonably sure Logan’s last name was Howlett.
“Well, it’s been nice catching up, Buck,” Logan said, getting to his feet and putting some cash on the bar to cover his beer. “But I have to get back. Early morning tomorrow.”
Bucky watched, unable to make himself say anything, as Logan made his way out of the bar. Tony Stark slipped onto his empty bar stool.
“So, uh… come here often?” Tony asked, before closing his eyes and sighing dramatically. Bucky snorted a laugh before he could help himself.
“Since Hawkeye’s is the only bar in town, yes,” Bucky said. Tony nodded.
“Fair enough,” Tony said. He glanced at the bartender, and made an aborted movement, as though he’d been going to motion for a drink.
“I… I… I have to ask you something,” Tony started. He inhaled sharply, before exhaling in a huff and nodding. “Is James your given name?”
“It is,” Bucky said. “There were five James in my kindergarten class.”
“You were in the convoy,” Tony said. It wasn’t a question. “You were the soldier in the convoy, the one who saved my life.”
“I was in the convoy,” Bucky confirmed. “I have no idea if I was the one who saved your life. There were a lot of us.”
“I met my Soulmate somewhere between the demo and waking up in New York,” Tony said. “Pepper… Pepper helped me track down everyone from that time frame. No one was a match.”
Bucky felt a bolt of something down his spine, spiking his heart rate. “There sounds like there’s a ‘however’ or a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence.”
“An ‘except’, actually,” Tony said. “Except one. One soldier… never responded to our inquiries.”
Bucky slowly inhaled, willing the panic down. What he always wanted was about to happen, but now, with the words about to be said from Tony’s lips, he wasn’t sure he wanted it to.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Tony said, almost reverently. “It was always you.” He leaned forward, as if subconsciously reaching for Bucky. Bucky felt himself lean forward, as if drawn to Tony.
“I didn’t know until well after you were airlifted,” Bucky said. “I was injured almost immediately afterwards. I didn’t even see the words for… a long time. I didn’t realize what they meant for even longer. Long enough that it would have been… awkward to reach out. Like I was… after something. Your money, something.”
“You knew, all this time?” Tony asked.
“All this time,” Bucky admitted. He rubbed his eyes, before sighing, explaining, “I wasn’t sure what to do. I’d made my peace with never… with never being your Soulmate, but there you were, standing in my shop, looking at me without an ounce of recognition in your eyes.”
“Kid, I have basically no memory of anything between the demo and waking up in Brooklyn,” Tony said. “Most of what I can remember is a pain-filled blur of soldiers. And, uh, all soldiers look pretty much the same, what with the uniforms. The helmets certainly don’t help.”
Bucky laughed, unable to help himself.
“So you truly had no idea?” Bucky asked, waving for the bartender.
“None at all,” Tony said, shaking his head. He ordered a shot of vodka, knocking it back in one swift movement and motioning for another. He took the second just as fast.
“When did… when did you figure it out?” Bucky asked.
“I didn’t,” Tony admitted, downing another shot. He waved off the bartender. “Pepper did.”
“Pepper? As in Pepper Potts?” Bucky asked.
“That’s her,” Tony said. “She… she’s the best.”
“I’d like to meet her,” Bucky said, leaning towards Tony.
“Anytime,” Tony said, matching Bucky’s lean. They were inches apart, close enough that Bucky could not only smell the vodka on Tony’s breath, but see the dark circles under his slightly blood shot eyes. This close, Bucky could see that his lips were chapped, when Tony absently licked his lips. Bucky felt an almost overwhelming urge to kiss him.
As if Tony was reading his mind, he tilted his head, eyes darting down to Bucky’s lips. Bucky absently licked his lips, and Tony’s pupils dilated. Tony leaned in a teeny tiny bit more. He smiled, exhaling, and Bucky was hopeless to resist. He leaned in, and caught Tony’s lips with his.
Tony startled backwards, his entire body tensing, before relaxing into the kiss. He brought one hand up, resting it on Bucky’s shoulder, gripping without directing. Tony pulled back to take a deep breath, resting his forehead against Bucky’s. They breathed each other in for a few moments. Tony was the one to pull back, leaning back to sit on his bar stool.
“Do you… do you wanna go back to my place, talk about things?” Tony asked. “You know, the whole Soulbond thing?”
“Is that code for something?” Bucky asked, waiving for the check.
“Do you want it to be?” Tony asked.
“Yes. No. Maybe,” Bucky said. “I don’t know. I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.”
Tony smiled as he paid. He led the way to the door, holding it for Bucky.
“That’s the Soulbond talking,” Tony said as they made their way down Main Street. “Let’s go learn more about each other. From each other. Not what you know about me from the media.”
“That sounds like a good plan,” Bucky agreed. He glanced at Tony, eyes narrowed.
“Did you really go twelve for twelve with Playboy centerfolds?” Bucky asked.
“That one is more truth than rumor,” Tony admitted, laughing. “You know everything about me, but I don’t know anything about you.”
“You didn’t read my paperwork?” Bucky asked, giving Tony a gentle nudge with his arm.
“I have people for that,” Tony said dryly, nudging Bucky, who laughed. They made their way down Main Street, laughing as they snarked back and forth with each other.