The helmet opens with a click. Metallic plates slide up and open the sides to reveal the iron man's visage. The thud of metal and weight of steel soon shifting with a whrill as the armor strips itself off Tony's frame. He could've taken a plane, but flying on his own was usually faster and less expensive than fuel.
The synthetic heart on his chest gives out a light, dim and muted by the material of his clothes, before hands reach out to cup the soldier's cheeks, checking if he's real. If any of this, was real. Thankfully, it wasn't just some imagination caused by Tony's lack of sleep, bucky was whole. Maybe in need of a new arm but whole. Teeth grit and before he was ready to spit some bullshit, his lips find the soldier's own. Finding a rhythm that his heart couldn't match with Bucky's own. The tongue sneaks a little fight, as if to prove bucky wrong again for not calling back up. A lone wolf he was but, sometimes even a wolf needs to find a pack. He pulls away with a hand tightly holding the back of James' head, tugging onto his brown locks as a reminder.
" cat got your tongue or was going solo your whole idea? Don't do that, fuel is expensive." the iron man chirps, even makes out a roll of his eyes. It was time to go home, bucky. " I need to fix your arm again, means you need to stay with me for a while."
it's not because he doesn't know better. chasing down the dead.. there was irony to the thunder of his pulse when he'd caught them. when he'd fired. when he'd been fired upon. a relic from his past, james should've seen it coming. the rocket exploded somewhere between himself and the wall behind him, bricks and metal hailing down in the aftermath. and it takes too long to realize where it'd come from. that he reaches with both arms and only one appears. flesh and bone, it pushes against cement, joining his groan and a rise what should come with a realization but doesn't. not immediately.
and that's how his day had started. by now, his headache had deep roots behind his eyes and the exposed circuitry on his shoulder fizzled with warning of worse to come. a promise that, sooner rather than later, he'd need to deal with it. stop cogs that churn with nowhere to go. but he could only move so fast with his scent being tailed. across a city he only knows from chipboard memories and the heat of a lingering fire.
so he should be thankful, right ? should turn his head towards the sky, shield against the sun, and be glad that what shined above him was red and gold and not another masked figure, cloaked in black, aiming a bolt-action rifle. and he is. sort of. beneath pinched brows and stubble smeared with ghosted blood gone rust, bucky is thankful.
" how'd you f— " fight or flight ; he knows the taste of those. had choked on both over the course of his mission. but freezing ? freezing is new. grips him by the shoulders when firm hands take hold his face. angle it upward, a crane that parts lips naturally even before tony claims them. he was good at that. claiming things. getting his fingers into all pies in sight. james wishes he weren't so skilled at it. wishes his eyes didn't grow heavy and attempt to flutter against the will to keep them open. it's not a fight he can win though. he'd lost it long before that was common knowledge.
bucky doesn't know a feather-light touch without trying. effort he can feel in his soles, he's turned placid, borderline breathless. a good tactic when words spread between them and the kiss he'd been lost in begins to lose its hold. " what.. " dumbfounded. it doesn't grip him often, but when it does, it holds on tight. vice grip till he's frowning, " i didn't need— " help gets lost in the grind of gears. motion with nothing to move, another spark singes the air.
" you were busy, " no he wasn't, he hadn't even checked, " and i had a narrow window of time. " the lies are pitiful while he catches his breath. one deep inhale. another. his chest is heaving and the swipe of his tongue seeks what remains of tony's taste. " i had it under control. " bold coming from a disarmed man.
