T, 2.3k, Crack, Humor, Sam Wilson Is a Little Shit and We Love Him for It, Background Sam/Nat, Team as Family, Bucky Is an Idiot in Love | AO3
(Day 1 / Day 3 / Day 4)
—
Muzzy is not a word Bucky thought he’d describe how he feels like with ever since he got injected with that bastardized version of the Super Soldier Serum. And yet it’s exactly how he’s doing after waking up and being blinded by the brightness all around him. A groan leaves his lips as he closes his eyes again.
Fucking hospitals and their stupid bright lights.
There’s a snort to his left, followed by a “Finally, you’re awake.”
Bucky slowly turns his head and blinks up at Sam who’s seated at the visitor’s chair, a grin plastered on his face, all shiny glinting teeth and tooth gap. The sole sight of the mischief in those black eyes is enough for his memories to come back.
And boy, do those hit harder than a truck on the highway.
“Oh man, that was hilarious.” Sam’s grin widens even more at that and Bucky can feel his cheeks heat up. “Can’t wait to tell the rest of the team what happened. I even got a video of it!”
Oh, hell no. Sam is already taking his phone out but before he can click on the video, Bucky shoots him an angry look and growls, “Don’t you even dare.”
He tries to get up in a sitting position, so he can throw a pillow for emphasis but with each movement the room spins even more and he loses orientation anew. Faintly, he feels a pain in each of his joints, but his head is too dizzy to register it properly. God, the last time he had been like this was in 1937 when he got high in the queer bar down the street of Steve’s and his apartment with that tiny guy from the neighborhood who knew to give one hell of a blowjob.
“Sure. I already quiver in fear,” comes the deadpan reply.
What an ass. Not for the first time does he wish to kill Sam. Just a little bit. As a treat.
So, he pulls his winner card: “You tell anyone what happened and I tell Nat where you hid that strap-on of hers she’s been missing so much.”
Sam’s grin immediately falls at that, changing to an expression of pure outrage. “You son of a bitch.”
Hah, checkmate. Bucky still can’t feel any of his face muscles, so he doesn’t know if they’re doing the right thing, but he imagines he’s grinning smugly right now.
“Have you even seen that strap-on? That thing is deluxe! You wouldn’t want that up your ass either!”
No, Bucky had not seen it, and he’d like to leave it that way too, thank you very much. But knowing Natasha, he can only imagine what it must look like. She tells him much more about their sex life than he’d ever want to know. And he still doesn’t know why she tells him these things of all people, instead of Clint or Wanda or hell, even Tony (Tony would absolutely participate in any sex talk there is (Bucky wouldn’t say no to sex talk when Tony is involved in it)), but he suspects it’s her own way of hobby torture.
Sam wrinkles his nose while he gets up, flips him the bird and says, “Fine, you win.” Then he walks to the door and Bucky squints at him, because there’s no way it would be that easy, Sam would definitely want to have the last word—
“Good luck explaining to Tony what happened, because he’s waiting outside already,” Sam tells him while opening the door, winking at Bucky and leaving the room, his snickering still lingering in the halls outside.
… Fuck.
Okay, he’s got like… ten seconds before Tony comes in, he can easily just climb out of the window and up to the roof. He just needs to get out of the bed which shouldn’t be a problem, broken bones or not, because he’s a high-profile assassin and—
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Busted.
“Trying to disappear before you can see me?”
Tony blinks at him and Bucky blinks right back, because seriously, what the fuck Barnes? He didn’t mean to say that, it just… slipped out.
“Well, that doesn’t sound like a good idea. You might have enhanced healing, but you broke nonetheless more bones than you have in your body, I don’t think getting out of that bed any soon could end well for you. And it would be such a shame too. After all, I brought you a get well soon balloon.”
And sure enough, there it is. A red balloon. With a ‘get well soon’ inscription in golden letters. Bucky feels quite touched by this gesture. Tony thought of him. He brought him a balloon. In Iron Man colors even. That has to mean something, right?
As Tony comes closer, Bucky seizes the opportunity to appreciate the way Tony’s suit hugs his figure perfectly in all the right places. If Tony were his, he’d unwrap him out of it as if he was a present. He’d trace the material with his fingers, take slowly each layer off and soak in every inch of newly revealed skin.
“Hey, I know I look irresistible, but there’s no need to drool, Buckaroo.”
Damnit. Bucky would like to order a shot in the head right about now, please and thank you. He tries to wipe the drool off, but neither hand does what he wants, so he settles for living in shame forever.
“So,” Tony sits down at the same chair Sam had been just a minute ago, “can you tell me what put you, a Super Soldier, in such a state?”
This is exactly the question Bucky had been afraid of. See, Bucky has a tiny little bit of a… problem.
It started only three weeks after he had moved into the Avengers Tower on a completely ordinary and uneventful morning. Bucky had sat himself down at the kitchen bar, as always on the second last chair on the left side, which was the exact right angle for him to get a look at Tony’s perfect round bubble butt when he would come and bend over the counter to get himself coffee, so his pants would stretch over that wonderful butt and Bucky would have an eyeful of perfection without being creepy about it, because he was “just sitting there” and “looking normally straight ahead”.
On that particular morning however, had Tony loudly cursed after opening his coffee can, and whirled around to glare at each Avenger with a look that promised murder and bloodshed. “Which one of you used the last bit of my coffee and then didn’t even tell J.A.R.V.I.S. to order more of it?”
The answer to that was obvious. No one else would’ve done something risky like that but Clinton “I have a death wish” Barton. Which wasn’t something they would tell Tony, because no one on this team was a snitch.
Well, and then Tony’s eyes landed on Bucky and it took only three seconds of having Tony’s full attention, that he blurted without a second thought, “Clint was it,” and even pointed with the finger towards him. That earned him a gasp and spluttering and an utterly disappointed “How could you? I thought we were sniper buddies!”
After that there was a pattern. One Nat didn’t take long to notice and confront him about it.
“You can’t lie.”
“What? Of course I can lie.” Which was true. You can’t be a high-ranking assassin and go on undercover missions without being able to lie—you’d die on the spot.
“Fine, I correct myself: you can’t lie at Tony.”
Which Bucky denied vehemently and then didn’t talk to Nat for a month.
Fact is though, which it always is when it comes to Natasha Romanoff, that she was right. For some even to him inexplicable reason, Bucky is simply unable to not tell Tony the truth when he just looks at him. And it’s absolutely ridiculous, because Bucky should be able to. He is the Winter Soldier. The Fist of HYDRA. Instructor of the Black Widows in the Red Room. A weapon—a ruthless killer responsible for numerous assassinations. Tony’s big brown eyes, shining golden in the hospital’s light, framed by those surreal long eyelashes, which makes him the most beautiful person in the entire world, should not be a reason for—
“Sam bet that I wouldn’t manage to roller skate and I had to prove him otherwise.”
… Damnit. Bucky doesn’t need a mirror to know that his face is redder than a tomato. The memory of it alone fills his entire being with embarrassment and Tony knowing what happened makes this situation definitely not a single bit better. He still can’t believe it happened in first place. Bucky is a well-trained Super Soldier! A pair of ugly shoes with some tiny wheels on it should not have been his downfall, for fucks sake!
Tony tilts his head at that, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait a moment. What exactly happened then? Did you just… fall?”
Bucky gulps and focuses on Tony’s tie pattern instead of answering. There are little Hulks on it. He likes it, it’s very Tony.
“In my defense; there was a staircase,” he murmurs at last, still not looking up. The Hulks on the tie wear purple pants. He’s pretty sure Bruce would like that tie too, he’s got a dorky humor like that, even though he’d never admit it.
A few seconds of complete quiet pass, and when Bucky finally does look up, he can see Tony’s corner of his mouth twitch, until he apparently gives in to his urge and throws his head back, laughing so hard that tears of laughter start forming and running down his cheeks.
Bucky wishes for an instant divorce. Sure, this might be the most beautiful sound he has ever heard in his life, but he still wants a divorce.
Not that they’re married or something—or at least not in real life. Bucky did dream of it once, though. It was a spring wedding. Nat and Pepper were their “best men”, because neither wanted Steve and Rhodey to hold a speech. The decorations were in Arc Reactor blue. It was very beautiful, people even cried.
“You are something else, Bucky Barnes,” Tony shakes his head, the humor still audible in his voice, and a look in his eyes, that could almost be described as fond.
Bucky takes the divorce-wish back.
“Now see,” Tony begins as he gets up and slowly gets closer to Bucky’s bed, “you’re not as subtle as you think you are.” He sits down at the edge of the bed an sends him one of those brilliant smiles, that make Bucky’s head all dizzy and his heart sing with want. “Those looks you always give me are unmistakable.”
Tony takes that weird looking pudding from the nightstand and starts opening it up. “And all this time,” he continues, “I waited for you to finally make a move.” At that he rams the spoon with the pudding right into Bucky’s mouth without any prior warning.
Bucky almost chokes and it’s only thanks to his control over his reflexes that he ends up swallowing the pudding, instead of spitting it out. He coughs a few times and looks up at Tony in shock and disbelief. If this is how Tony takes care of injured people, Bucky doesn’t have any interest to ever do a nurse role play with him.
Tony gasps in indignation. “Are you telling me you would not want to see me in a nurse costume?”
This time Bucky does choke. On nothing but his own spit.
He imagines Tony in one of those tight short dresses, his legs all exposed, wearing heels as well as rich red lipstick and—and stops before his blood can rush anywhere south.
“Yeah, thought so,” Tony smirks and proceeds to slam another spoonful of pudding into Bucky’s mouth. At this point Bucky doesn’t know if his face is red from embarrassment, horniness or almost chocking, but red it sure is.
“Where was I again? Ah right, so I waited for you to make a move, but had to face reality, that you’re just too chicken to do anything about your crush on me. Which is kind of ironic, because aren’t you supposed to be a feared assassin or something?”
Bucky’s brain officially short-circuits at that, because Tony did… what?
“Yes, yes, I figured out your little secret, keep up with the class, I don’t like repeating myself. So anyway, this is me—” another spoon makes its way down his throat— “asking you for a date, because you apparently weren’t going to.” And Tony smiles at him so brightly, Bucky is sure he could lighten an entire country.
Bucky holds his breath and waits to wake up, because this can’t be real, this must be a dream. But when after a while nothing happens, but Tony’s smile slowly falling apart and making room for an unsure expression, he asks, “A date?”
“Yup.”
“With me?”
“Preferably, yes.”
“Okay,” he croaks, so he doesn’t do something dumb like start crying from happiness for example or jump at Tony who’d crush under his weight.
“Okay?”
Bucky clears his throat. “Yes, okay. I’d love to go on a date with you.”
“Okay.” And back is that smile finally Bucky would like to kiss one day.
“Now that that is settled,” Tony digs into the pudding again (fucking hell, is that still not empty?), “how about a deal while I take care of you, since we have to wait until you have healed anyway before we can go anywhere: you tell me where Wilson has hidden Nat’s deluxe strap-on and I tell the rest of the team that you got your injuries from a heroic fight protecting civilians against a criminal. Hm, what do you think?” The glinting mischief in Tony’s eyes when he winks at Bucky is unmistakable.
Bucky thinks that this is the best day of his life.
@winteriron-week awww looks at those two hugging it out! I just love them both very much... also I love adding blush to their noses and cheeks it makes them look so cute!
Bucky watched as Stark wandered down to the common floor. He was wearing the new Armani suit, the one he’d had made for a photo shoot last weekend with GQ magazine. And you can bet that Bucky has signed up as a new subscriber to GQ in anticipation.
The dark suit hugged his every curve and Bucky was about two seconds away from either drooling over it or just running up and grabbing a handful of that bubble butt for himself.
If only Tony didn’t seem to tense up and flinch in Bucky’s presence. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed it, he’s exceptionally skilled at keeping himself under control, not letting anyone on to how he was really feeling. It’s only his luck that watching and analysing a person’s every move was beaten into him as the Fist of Hydra.
It has been so obvious to Bucky, and it hasn’t taken long for him to collate data and realise that it was his own presence that seemed to make the genius so tense in his own home.
Bucky had been gutted once he’d connected the dots. He may have recovered the majority of his memories but he knew he was in no way that same suave man he had once been, the guy who could give a dame one look and she’d be putty in his hands. Still, he had hoped that enough of that man still existed within him. According to Steve he was very obvious about his crush and given that in this day and age he wasn’t risking a beating or arrest if he asked a fella out he’d been hoping against hope but...
Well. There’s no point in putting Tony through the discomfort of turning him down gently when he was already uneasy in Bucky’s presence.
The assassin in question was almost too deep in his pondering to notice when the man he was thinking of approached.
Bucky took a sharp intake of breath seeing Tony approach him at the breakfast bar, coming to settle across from him.
He was frozen solid. And he knew from experience how that felt.
Barnes had gone unnaturally still, and Tony could feel his own heartbeat thundering in his chest.
This was a bad idea.
This was such a bad idea.
The whole kitchen, it seemed, had come to a stop when he pulled the gun.
The clatter of pots and pans. The sizzle of bacon on the stove, even the coffee machine stopped its low humming and spitting as it tried to cope with the vast amounts that were demanded of it every morning.
Tony gingerly placed the gun on the table in front of him. Next, he placed his phone down, face up but slightly to the right of the gun. He then lifted his hands to the deep red tie he had around his neck. Pulling it loose, he maintained eye contact as he delicately places the cloth over his eyes and ties it around the back of his head.
Once the blindfold had been secured the man's hands came to rest lightly on the table. Bucky was transfixed. Though he couldn’t see Tony’s eyes through the tie he felt like he could not tare his eyes away, like maybe Tony was still staring deep into his soul even through the material.
Tony’s right hand slowly moved over, tapping once at his phone and then there was a flurry of movement.
If Bucky hadn’t known better. He would have sworn that Tony must have had some form of enhancement given the speed of his movements.
Tony’s hands were confident and precise as they dismantled the gun, laying each component out on the surface of the table same as Bucky would when he went through his almost ritualistic weapons maintenance.
Just as soon as it had come apart it was back together again.
It happened so quickly Bucky didn’t realise he’d even held his breath until it was over. Blowing out his breath Bucky wasn’t sure what had just happened but the tightening in his trousers just reinforced how he was feeling.
“So, the thing is Barnes,” Tony began reaching back to pull the makeshift blindfold off, “I’ve seen you staring at me.”
Bucky could feel his insides shrinking and shrivelling up, oh god this is when Tony asks him to leave the tower for being a creep, isn’t it?
“And I’ve come to two conclusions, you either want me dead or you just plain want me.” Tony quirked an eyebrow. “Which do you pick?”
Bucky’s mouth was dryer than it had ever been in his 90 plus years of life. His voice, when he finally managed to drag a response out of the depths of his consciousness, was rough like he’d just smoked a whole pack of those things that had passed for cigarettes back in the trenches.
“This what passes for flirtin’ these days?”
Tony smirked and god, Bucky wanted to taste it.
“Not usually, but I’d hoped you either had a competency kink or on the off chance you were planning my murder, you’d know I wouldn’t go down easy.”
Bucky abruptly stood from his stool, not caring at how loud it was as it crashed to the floor and moving swiftly around the end of the bar to grab into the lapels of Tony’s suit. He dragged the other man close as he crashed their lips together.
He could feel Tony pushing back against him and his heart swooped briefly, wondering if he’d seriously misjudged this situation. Tony was following as he pushed, however, not allowing them to part as he walked them backwards. Catching on quickly, Bucky backed himself towards the elevator doors, more grateful than ever of the AI that had the perfect timing.
It was only once the doors had closed behind them that they broke apart. Tony suddenly felt a lot less solid in his grasp, the genius was shaking, his hands gripping tighter to Bucky’s shirt and he rested his forehead on Bucky’s chest taking deep, gasping breaths.
“You alright, doll?” Bucky asked wrapping his hand around the smaller man, hugging him closer.
“Yeah, I just... I mean I was pretty sure I had read that all wrong and everyone was gonna laugh at me.” He said, lifting his head to look up at Bucky, and for the first time, Bucky could see the remnants of the fear and doubt in his Bambi eyes.
Bucky reached up, brushing his metal thumb over the soft curve of Tony’s cheek, causing the other to shiver at the soft touch of cold metal.
“You really thought I hated you?” Bucky asked softly.
“Well, I’m not exactly the most likeable guy,” Tony replied his eyes flitting down trying to avoid the intensity of Bucky’s gaze but not willing to move away from where every inch of him was pressed against the other man.
“Tony, doll, that is the stupidest thing I ever heard, and now that I know I got a chance with you, you ain’t getting rid of me for nothing.”
a fic for @winteriron-week and the @tonystarkbingo
This fills all three prompts for @winteriron-week for December 20 (Holiday Celebration, Only One Bed, Snowed In).
@tonystarkbingo:
Title: Keep Me Warm
by @27dragons
Card 4027
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28194459
Squares: A5 - Fake Dating, K5 - Car Trouble, T4 - Stranded, A3 - FREE
Ship: Winteriron
Rating: T
Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - College/University, Sharing a Bed, Snowed In
Wordcount: 5243
Summary:
“That sucks. Wait. It sucks? I thought you were kind of bummed about not getting to see your family for the holidays.”
“Yeah, but I wanted to see them at home, where I could go into my room and close the door when I need a break,” Bucky grumbled. “But instead it’ll be in some cheap hotel in New York where I’ll have the great choice of sleeping on the floor in one of two rooms -- the one with my parents, or the one with Becca and Gram.”
(or, Tony gets a brilliant idea.)
“Hey, Tony. My arm’s been playing up, mind taking a look?”
“Sure. Come on over, and I’ll open her up.”
“…”
“Bucky. What have I said about petting the cat?”
“I know, I know. But Gingersnap really likes when I rub his belly… except when he suddenly doesn’t. And his claws can’t draw blood on this hand.”
“You heal almost before the scratches show! Certainly faster than me picking hair out of delicate mechanics.”
“It still stings!“
“That’s it. You have three options: leave the cat alone, deal with the scratches, or find a goddamn glove. No more cat hair!”
---
Part of DUM-E’s Drawings ( Masterlist, AO3)
For:
@winteriron-week - day 4: Fluff
@star-spangled-bingo - No-one believes them
@buckybarnesbingo - C1: image of Tony working on Bucky’s arm with Alpine in the background
@tonystarkbingo - T3: crack
[fill details and bonus below the cut]
Name of Piece: BUCK-E’s Problem
Card Number: [TSB] 4090
Name of Participant: LBibliophile
Square Number:
[BBB] C1: image of Tony working on Bucky’s arm with Alpine in the background
[TSB] T3: crack
Rating: Gen
Pairing: Tony Stark & Bucky Barnes
Warnings/Tags: drabble, fanart, Dum-e’s Drawings, Bucky Barnes’ metal arm
Summary: Hanging out in TON-E’s workshop, DUM-E collects the best stories. BUCK-E is not amused.
· Bed Sharing / “I’m not drunk enough for this.” / Soulmates
“Shove over, T-1000, we’re bunking together.”
Bucky scowled fiercely; the last thing his sanity needed was to sleep in the same bed as Tony Stark. “What about the couch?”
A last minute mission delay on account of weather leaves the Avengers stranded in a cabin where there's not enough beds to go around.
Link to AO3
“Shove over, T-1000, we’re bunking together.”
Bucky rolled over to see Tony standing next to the bed, hugging a pillow from the closet and looking exhausted. “Why?”
“Because all of the other beds are taken. I was gonna bunk with Steve, but because Sharon’s here and they are back together again I got ousted. Natasha and Maria claimed the other bedroom, and Sam and Clint are on the air mattress.”
Bucky scowled fiercely; the last thing his sanity needed was to sleep in the same bed as Tony Stark. “What about the couch?”
“First of all, I am on the shady side of forty, if I sleep on a couch there’s no way I would be able to even move tomorrow without throwing my back out. Second, Rhodey has the couch because he can’t get in and out of a bed very easily unless he sleeps in his braces.” Dammit, those were both good reasons. As Bucky’s scowl deepened Tony sighed, clearly too tired to argue. “I don’t like it either, sugar britches, but this cabin wasn’t made to house all of the Avengers at once. Now scoot.”
When Bucky couldn’t think of any other protests, he reluctantly moved over, making room for Tony in the queen-sized bed. “You better not snore,” was all he could think of to say, trying to make it sound like having Tony in his bed was the last thing he wanted rather than the thing he wanted most.
“Yeah, well, just make sure you stay on your side,” Tony snarked, pulling the covers up over his ears until only his hair and his eyes were visible. Bucky rolled over to face the wall in self-defense, resigning himself to a sleeplessly night since every cell in his body was suddenly acutely aware of Tony’s proximity, quivering with an excitement that no amount of thoughts about baseball or counting sheep was going to fix. “And don’t hog the blankets.”
Bucky only grunted in response, trying not to move the bed too much as he got comfortable, a dodgy process at best with his metal arm. Eventually everyone in the room grew still and quiet, with only the occasional susurration of skin moving against sheets breaking the hush. A steady, soothing rain drummed on the roof of the cabin; outside, it was an aggravating nuisance that had forced them to postpone their mission, necessitating the team’s stay in this cramped cabin, but now that Bucky was clean and warm and dry, the noise was cozy and relaxing, making him want to do nothing but curl up next to someone and doze. The problem was, there hadn’t been anyone for years, and the only candidate Bucky really wanted as a cuddle partner anyway was the prickly human burrito currently lying next to him.
He sighed as he heard Tony’s breathing and heartbeat, barely audible over the rain, become slow and rhythmic, his body going limp with sleep in a way that was impossible to fake. It was nice, on some level, to know that Tony trusted him enough to sleep next to him; Bucky could still remember the days when Tony’s eyes would follow him like a hawk, suspicious and resentful, every time they were in the same room together. Nowadays he could get smiles, the dubious blessing of an endless supply of nicknames, and, on rare occasions, Tony would join him on the couch as he binge-watched classic movies. At this rate, Bucky thought morosely, Tony might agree to a coffee date in oh, ten to twenty years. He sighed again, trying to get his heart to stop pounding, but his hands kept twitching with the thought that Tony was right here, within touching distance, wearing only an undershirt and boxers.
Bucky closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on something else. The botched mission, the rain, how he was going to get Sam back for putting mayonnaise in his shampoo bottle, but all he could think about was Tony. Thinking about how he wanted to roll over and bury his nose in that messy hair. Thinking about what Tony’s skin would feel like under his palms if he slid his hands under that thin A-shirt to feel the ladder of Tony’s ribs or inside his boxers to stroke down the smooth line of his thigh. His cock twitched at the thought of curling around Tony, pressing his hand in the center of his chest under the glowing star of the arc reactor and feeling the mind-meltingly good pressure of his ass against his groin. How sweet it would be to be sure of his welcome, to know that if he pressed his lips to the soft skin under Tony’s ear Tony would smile and turn his head for a kiss.
Gritting his teeth, Bucky pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes. He tried to use the meditative techniques his therapist taught him: inhale slowly, count to three, exhale slowly. Focus on anything except the throbbing ache that had settled at the base of his spine. Don’t think about the way Tony had closed his eyes and tilted his face up into the rain, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, as Steve was canceling the mission. The way he had stood still as a statue in the mud and the rain and let everyone else hold on to him as they slipped and slid through the muck trying to get into the dry sanctuary of the cabin. The way his hands move when he talks, how sometimes his mouth can’t keep up with his thoughts and his sentences become incomprehensible to anyone but Bruce and sometimes Rhodey.
Dammit. Not only did that not work, but now the ache had moved under his ribs, a wistful, tangled thing that sent tendrils up to close his throat and press against his eyes, something that probably had an untranslatable name in German or Russian. Bucky pressed a hand to his sternum as if he could push the longing back down where it belonged. Christ, it was so much easier to handle these unruly feelings when he wasn’t lying down.
That thought made him gingerly sit up, moving slowly and senses dialed up to pick up the slightest change in Tony’s breathing. He slid his legs carefully over the edge of the bed and buried his head in his hands as he considered his options. He could sleep on the floor; wouldn’t be the first time, definitely wouldn’t be the last. It was chilly in the cabin, though, and Bucky had no idea where to find an extra blanket. He could hide in the bathroom and hope no one woke up in the middle of the night and found him lurking. Every square inch of the cabin was packed but he could maybe tiptoe to the kitchen table and spend the rest of the night staring at the tiny glowing rectangle of his phone.
He glanced over at the sleeping lump that was Tony, who was making soft, mumbling noises like he was talking in his dream. The truth was that, as hard as it was to lay here, as tortuous, it was the sweetest sort of torture and Bucky was loathe to give it up. Without thinking his hand reached out and hovered over the slight rise that was Tony’s hip, but at the last moment he curled his hand into a fist and pulled it back. He scrubbed his hands over his face and exhaled as he gingerly laid back down.
“I said no peanut butter,” Tony muttered, sounding adorably disgruntled. Bucky froze as Tony rolled over until he was facing him, the line between his eyebrows smoothing away as he fell back into a deeper sleep. With a soft exhale Bucky settled onto his stomach, arms wedged under the pillow as he turned his head to look at Tony.
Bucky studied Tony’s features until his eyes grew heavy from the drumming rain and the cozy warmth and weight of the blankets. He let himself fall into a dozy dream that they were here by design and not by accident, imagined waking up with long limbs entangled with his own, breaths mingling, lying in bed together for long, languid minutes, maybe falling in and out of sleep a few times before they finally get up in search of coffee and food. Or maybe they would have relaxed, lazy sex, with deep, drugging kisses, no urgency until the last moments before climax. And with that pleasant image in mind Bucky finally fell asleep.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Captain America (Movies)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Additional Tags: Winteriron Week, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmate AU, soulmate tattoo, Danger levels, danger numbers, Winter Soldier POV, Anticipation, First Meeting, Through the Years, general winter soldier angst warning apply, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, it's a soulmate story of course it's a happy ending, Bucky finding himself, and his soulmate too, soulmate-identifying danger level tattoos, One-Shot
Series: Part 15 of Bingo Fills
Summary:
"For some reason, the Asset knew that the number seven was impressive, and when he was out of the base and no one was watching, he traced the outlines of it with his metal finger."
A soulmate tattoo shows how dangerous the soulmate is. Bucky's tattoo shows higher and higher numbers as time goes by. In the end, he finds the person behind the numbers, of course.
***
Challenges:
Vetés: They say sometimes you have to lose a battle to win the war. (first / last sentence)
Winteriron Week: Day 1 - First meeting @winteriron-week
Tony Stark Bingo: T2 - Image: Tony and the armor @tonystarkbingo
Bucky Barnes Bingo: Y4 - Handle with care @buckybarnesbingo
Star Spangled Bingo: I5 - Soulmate AU @star-spangled-bingo
