Chapter Text
It wasn’t the first time they’d annoyed Tash, Bucky knew that for sure. Probably more like the sixth. He couldn’t help it; carrying Tony out of the common room and upstairs to nail him right through the mattress was too tempting. He was even willing to blame Tony for it in the first place, because the man was handsy as hell and had a terrible habit of making lewd jokes and bedroom eyes nearly constantly.
Personally, Bucky thought Tash should give him a little bit of fucking credit that he didn’t just take his incredibly sexy boyfriend to the floor in front of God and everyone. (He’d considered it once, but managed to get them into the elevator before peeling Tony’s pants down to his thighs and swallowing his cock. Also, totally not his fault that she hit the elevator summon button. Really. It wasn’t.)
“You wouldn’t know subtle if it bit you on the ass,” Tash said, glowering at him.
“Subtle would be better behaved and not bite anyone,” Steve pointed out. “Certainly better behaved than Bucky’s been.”
Bucky threw his hands up in the air. Both of them ganging up on him seemed a bit much, really. It’s not like they weren’t loud and obnoxious sometimes, too. “I can totally be subtle,” Bucky sneered. “You just watch.”
Tash took a sip of her tea and gazed at him over the rim of her mug. “We have an accord, then. No sex, unless you can get it subtly. And I will know if you cheat. You… won’t like the consequences.”
Bucky glowered. He (had been) was the world’s deadliest assassin, credited with dozens of high-profile jobs, and he’d never been caught right up until he’d decided to be caught. How hard could it be, getting his boyfriend into bed without being blatant? Tony was just as into it as Bucky was. “You’ll see,” he said again.
***
Bucky might have picked the worst. Week. Ever. To attempt to seduce his boyfriend quietly. The Maria Stark Foundation's annual ball was that week, and Tony was rather involved in the planning. Bucky knew Tony had people for that sort of thing, and hell, the Foundation had people for that sort of thing, and yet Tony hovered over the caterers and venue planners like they were getting set to invade Latveria.
Subtle.
After a day of meetings and double-checking with several coordinators, plus a quarterly stockholder’s report, Tony was sure to be tired, stressed out.
Bucky chilled a bottle of wine, drew a bubble bath and sprinkled rose-petals all over the bed and waited for Tony to come back up to the penthouse.
And waited. And waited some more. When Tony finally made his way back to their room, he was stripped down to his workshop clothes, streaked with grease and with an angry burn across the backs of his knuckles, shuffling across the floor with his eyes mostly closed. By then, the bath had gone cold and the wine was warm. Not that Tony noticed either. He didn’t stop until his knees hit the edge of the bed and then he fell face-first onto it and was asleep before Bucky could even say hello.
Bucky sighed. Overworked genius Tony was his fifth favorite thing and Tony was adorable when he was sleeping. He peeled Tony’s clothes off without waking him and got him settled onto the bed, tucking the blanket around him, then went to clean up. There was always tomorrow.
***
The problem was, Bucky thought, more that Tony wasn’t used to any sort of subtle. He didn’t eat until his stomach was practically crawling out of his mouth to go hunting on his own. He didn’t rest until he was falling down. JARVIS had been known to complain from time to time that the only bad thing about not having some sort of corporeal body was that he couldn’t smack his creator upside the head from time to time and send him off to nap.
On the other hand, the coffee pot was one of Tony’s favorite devices. Bucky spent the better part of an hour composing little messages on heart-shaped sticky notes. He put one on the handle of Tony’s favorite mug, on the top of the bean grinder, one on the side of the coffee maker, and one on the box of donuts he left next to the coffee pot, all cake with pink glaze and sprinkles. Tony’s favorite.
Sure enough, not long after, Tony came into the kitchen, phone headset in place as he conferenced with someone or other -- not Pepper, he was much more polite when it was Pepper. He smiled at Bucky, then reached up into the cabinet for his mug. The sticky note fluttered off, unnoticed.
“No, what I’m telling you is that it’s a completely workable--” He threw up his hands in annoyance and flicked the top off the bean grinder as he reached for the beans. “No, that’s because you’re not listening to me,” he growled, and mashed the grinder button with rather more force than necessary.
...Had that note gotten mixed in with the beans? Bucky didn’t see it anywhere.
Tony dumped the beans into the pot and stabbed at the button. He was going to have to wait a few seconds for the coffee to brew, so surely he’d see that note.
“Michaels, I’m too busy this week to come down there and tell you how to do your job,” Tony snapped, pacing the kitchen. “If you can’t make sense of the notes, maybe I should send over someone who can. ...That’s what I thought.”
He dragged off the headset and threw it on the counter in disgust. “Ug, how did he end up in my R&D department?” he demanded. He pulled the mug out of the stream of coffee and swigged it back like particularly cheap tequila. “Oh, hey, donuts!” He nudged open the box and pulled one out, taking a huge bite. “Fnnks, bah,” he muttered. He leaned over and left a sticky kiss on Bucky’s cheek, then was gone again, mug in hand.
Bucky groaned and scrubbed at his face with both hands, listening to the rasp of his beard as it scraped against his palm. “How does he even survive?” Bucky muttered, knowing that no one was listening. “Seriously?” He was going to have to up his game. Shit.
***
Bucky thought he was starting to get somewhere with the text message flirting. Tony at least looked at his phone an awful lot. Board meetings, and R&D brainstorming sessions, and working on repairing the Avenger’s gear, and strategic planning reviews with SI security, Tony always had his phone with him.
Subtle, Bucky reminded himself. Which probably meant no dick pics.
Thinking about you, babe.
He did some research. Emojis were the big thing, right? It took him a while to track down some hints and tips, and then it took him a little longer to figure out why eggplants and peaches featured in a lot of the samples, but when he did get it, Bucky almost rolled off the couch, laughing.
He texted Tony an eggplant and a peach. Tony had the world’s most perfect ass; more than one person had commented on it. And while Bucky wasn’t sure it actually looked like a peach, he’d be more than happy to take a bite of it.
Tony texted back a lollipop, and a... oh, that was a tongue. Well.
Bucky scrolled through the options. Why why why were there so many different icons and what the hell were even some of them supposed to be? There needed to be some sort of search feature. He found a bunch of hands; let’s see… that one, index finger, pointing. And the OK. Winkie face. He was just hitting send when the building alarm went off.
“No, no, no, no,” Bucky muttered. “What the…”
“Avengers assemble,” Steve’s voice came through the overhead. “We have reports of hostile non-human life forms attacking the coastal area off Maine. Quinjet, fifteen minutes!”
“No. no. no.” Bucky slid to the floor in front of the coffee table and banged his forehead into the wooden surface before getting up. He had a fucking job to do.
***
There were some things that should not be allowed. Giant semi-sapient squids that spat smelly, half-frozen ink all over everything were right at the top of that fucking list.
They were also fast as hell, prone to swatting flying Avengers out of the air like they were playing badminton with their tentacles. Iron Man had actually gotten shoved into one beaky maw and nearly eaten before he managed to unibeam a hole in the back of the thing’s head and make an escape.
The squids’ bodies were squishy, the skin thick and rubbery, and killing them was like trying to stuff marshmallows into a wine bottle. They were hard as hell to cut, and shooting them put the whole group at risk from ricochettes. Bucky wasn’t even sure they’d been defeated so much as they’d gotten bored and wandered back where they came from.
Tony had already contacted Atlantis and their obnoxious ruler, Namor the Sub-Mariner, for more useful tactics. Which would have been great, except Namor had some very strange ideas of what was befitting for his station and Tony was having to drop everything to entertain the fucking merman.
All bad press aside, Tony could actually be quite diplomatic when he wanted to. The trick was getting him to want to -- but it turned out that having been nearly eaten by a giant squid was pretty motivating. So when Namor finally deigned to make an appearance, Tony ushered him around and catered to that swollen ego in the name of getting Namor to actually commit to doing something about the squids.
And if Tony seemed a little stiff, his smile a little tight, well, Namor was a first-class asshole, even when being helpful. It wasn’t until the whole nonsense was nearly done that Tony stumbled over a bit of chopped-off tentacle and winced in pain that Bucky realized he’d been hiding injuries the whole time.
Extracting Tony from Namor’s clutches (okay, so it wasn’t that bad, but Namor didn’t really understand human physiology and concepts like bleeding to death weren’t high on his list of concerns) involved shoving Steve at Namor and probably owing Steve a million favors, because the Prince of Atlantis (or whatever his damn title was) had something of a crush on Steve, which Steve was desperately trying to avoid dealing with.
“God dammit, Tony,” Bucky swore, as soon as he managed to get Tony around the corner where no one would notice that Tony was limping, bleeding, and sweating like crazy inside his armor. Bucky got a thumb down inside Tony’s armor and triggered the release mechanism. The amount of blood that flooded out of the left boot was pretty damn worrying. Bucky gritted his teeth and picked his boyfriend up in a bridal carry. “Barton, I got cleanup duty for you, near the south door.”
***
Another week of celibacy, because Tony never could do shit by half-measures, including getting his ass almost dead. After losing so much blood and a head injury on top of that, his recovery was complicated by the squid ink getting into his wound, which caused an infection.
Bucky knew Tony was pretty damn sick. He knew it because Tony didn’t spend the first two days trying to check out Against Medical Advice. But it was hard to be around Tony, when Bucky was already wound up from a week’s worth of celibacy. Bucky was a terrible person, spending too much time at Tony’s bedside while he was ill, spoon-feeding him and helping him wash up with half an erection and difficulty concentrating because he was too busy staring at the way Tony’s mouth moved, or wanting to peel that thin hospital gown aside and--
Yeah, Bucky was better off just staying out of arm’s reach. He didn’t want to hurt Tony by accident. Bucky was a selfish, horrible person. The man had practically bled out on his feet; being ravished by a former assassin was not what Tony needed.
Cho finally notified Bucky that they were releasing Tony from medical. Bucky spent some time picking out an outfit; he wanted to look his best for Tony, maybe tempt Tony into a little messing around now that he was feeling better.
Tight jeans that emphasized the curve of his ass, outlined Bucky’s muscular thighs. He wasn’t quite as chesty as Steve -- Steve, who always wore his shirts too small and looked like he ought to wear a damn sports bra to keep his nipples under control -- but Bucky wasn’t lacking in muscle. He selected a thin dark blue top, the material worn and comfortable, clinging to his chest in just the right places, thin enough to see the shadows of his pecs, to trace the lines of his abs. He tore the sleeve off one side -- short sleeves had a tendency to get stuck in the plates of his arm and anyway, Tony liked the arm.
It was nice to see Tony up and about, his color better than it had been for days. Tony gave him a quick smile and it was all Bucky could do not to lift his man up and push him against the wall to kiss him stupid. But he was still trying, even if it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. “Hey, babe,” he said. He took Tony’s hand gingerly. Just the brush of his fingers against Tony’s skin was enough to tingle, sending zings of want down Bucky’s spine. Barely twining their fingers together, he led Tony over to the elevator. “Want to grab a snack and then go home?”
Tony’s smile got a little wider and he leaned against Bucky’s side in the elevator. “Yeah, that sounds good. Doc says I’m supposed to stay up on meals to replace all the blood, blah blah blah. But home, for sure. So sick of medical I could puke.”
“Missed you,” Bucky commented, pulling Tony closer against his side, aching for the feel of Tony’s lean body, wanting nothing more than to --
“Hey!” Steve cheered as the elevator door opened. “Tony’s back!” Bucky wasn’t going to ask about the purple marks just above Steve’s collar. Probably.
Except that the kitchen was full of Avengers, guests and friends. Rhodes had even managed to get out of whatever military shit he was doing to come visit. And Namor, too. (That man needed to put some clothes on, really!)
Clint had made a huge cake shaped like a bandaid (okay, really, whose idea was it to fill the cake with strawberry sauce, so as soon as it was cut, it started fucking bleeding? Ew.) and there were snacks and drinks and…
Bucky sighed. Tony was being passed around his friends like a party favor and it took Bucky a while to find a unoccupied corner where he could have a sulk. It’s not that he didn’t want to share his boyfriend, he just… didn’t want to share.
Not that Bucky could be too upset; it was good to have Tony home, and better to see how happy he was, surrounded by friends and family. But by the time he’d spoken to everyone and had a slice of Clint’s horrifying cake and gotten into a “discussion” with Rhodey and Steve about the advisability of letting weird space monsters eat him specifically so he could blast his way out again, he was visibly exhausted.
And by the time Bucky had nudged him away from the party (still in full swing) and up to their room, Tony was pale and shaky from overexerting himself, and obviously too drained for more than a quick kiss goodnight.
There was a large, empty space in the middle of the bed, the sheets cold and crisp. Bucky sighed and pulled himself all the way to the edge of the bed.
***
At first it had been cute, in a frustrating sort of way. Tony was absent-minded under the best of circumstances, but he’d never been anything but passionate when Bucky had nudged him into something.
And then it had gotten irritating; if the Avengers were deliberately getting in their way, it would have been easier to get around. This just seemed to be life.
Finally, Bucky decided the best idea was to just wait it out. Surely Tony would start something, wouldn’t he? He’d always been just as eager for it as Bucky was. How much accidental abstinence was Tony willing to put up with before Bucky was the one on the other end of the seduction? That would be okay, right? And technically wouldn’t go against his agreement with Tash.
Except that… nothing happened.
That empty space in the middle of the bed stayed empty.
Bucky thought he was imagining it, but eventually he couldn’t ignore it. Tony was deliberately putting space between them, now. He pulled back, hastily, if Bucky brushed against him, like he was burned. He fell asleep in the workshop rather than coming to bed at all some nights. Bucky found himself in the awkward position of explaining that he wasn’t tired, so that Tony would get in the bed at all. And Bucky would end up waiting until he was asleep, just so he wouldn’t bother Tony.
Some nights he’d wake as soon as Tony stepped in the room and then hold his breath, pretending to sleep as Tony would creep in like a thief. If Bucky stirred or reached for Tony, it was all apologies and ‘sorry to wake you’ and ‘go back to sleep.’
Maybe… maybe Tony had never been into it. God that hurt to think about, like the bottom of the world had fallen out from under Bucky’s feet. Maybe Tony had felt pressured into sex. Bucky had never hesitated before, just nudging and kissing and… had Tony not wanted him? Or at least, not as bad as Bucky wanted it?
He tried to think back, had Tony ever instigated their trysts, or had he just gone along with what Bucky wanted? Why… why would Tony do that, why would he not say anything if… shit. Shit.
Well, maybe Tony just -- there were words for it, right, Bucky remembered JARVIS bringing things to his attention in his welcome to the future, try not to be an asshole lectures. Asexual, that was a thing. Was… was that what things were like, for Tony. Had he been merely tolerating Bucky’s advances?
Bucky rolled over, pulled the blankets over his head, feeling sick.
Or maybe Tony was just done. He was done with Bucky. Fucked him out, so to speak. He was ready to move on to someone else. Steve had warned Bucky, had told him that Tony wasn’t really a settle down sort of guy, that he was always moving on to the next best thing. Bucky waited in dread for the conversation, the one that started “it’s not you, it’s me.”
That empty space in the middle of the bed was the fucking Great Wall of China. Bucky didn’t know how to cross it anymore. He pulled back, as far as he could. Started dodging conversations with Tony because he didn’t want to hear the words. Left the room, rather than staring at Tony like a starving dog.
He couldn’t even be mad at Tash about it; she’d showed him that he was fucking missing it. Tony didn’t want him anymore, and Bucky hadn’t even noticed, until she drew his attention to it.
Shit.