“Do you think we should rescue him?”
“Nah. Let’s leave him for a couple more dances.”
“You two are mean,” Sharon said. Tony jumped. Bucky startled and then pretended that he’d known she was there all along.
“It’s not mean,” Tony said, looking at her with wide, wounded eyes. “The little old ladies are having tons of fun.”
“But Steve isn’t,” Sharon said. Tony followed her gaze to where a miserable-looking Steve was dancing his twenty-ninth dance of the night. His current companion was an eighty-seven year old woman who took every chance she could to pinch Steve’s butt. Tony had counted nine pinches so far.
“Steve’s the one who insisted we come,” Bucky said, tossing back a glass of champagne. “He deserves what he gets.”
“It’s good P.R.,” Tony added. “Celebrate the new year by having a dance with Captain America? The papers will be eating it up.”
Sharon frowned at him. “Tony.”
Tony sighed. “Fine. Be that way. Alright, Snowflake. Are we going with rude billionaire wants arm candy back, or wounded veteran needs support of both boyfriends to ride out the night?”
Bucky considered this for a moment. “Rude billionaire,” he said after a moment. “Last time I pulled the wounded veteran shtick, some lady tried to take me back to her bedroom to make me feel like a ‘real man’.”
Sharon smirked into her glass. “Is my cousin not enough for you, Bucky?”
“Okay you two,” Tony said. He leaned in towards Bucky, pulling him into a slow, lingering kiss that would turn a few heads. If he was being the rude billionaire, he was gonna do it in style.
Then he handed his glass to Sharon and cut through the crowd, heading for Steve. Just as the dance ended and Steve was politely bowing to his partner (eleven pinches total), Tony rudely cut in on the next woman.
“Sorry, this one is mine,” Tony said loudly, plastering himself to Steve’s front. He dragged Steve into a filthy hot kiss that left Steve looking a little dazed, before towing his other boyfriend back to the relative safety of Sharon and Bucky.
