Tony tries to keep his eyes on the TV screen, but the big, blue, squishy chair is right in the corner of his peripheral vision, and Bucky Barnes is sitting in the chair. It was a weird, convoluted process, getting him back to the tower, but he’s here, and he’s only about 80% surly, and he seems relatively murder-free so they’re making do.
Tony’s watching the TV but he’s also watching Bucky, and it’s clear that Bucky’s eyes are fixed across the room as if he’s also watching the TV, but he’s not. He’s watching Steve. Steve is sitting next to Tony, but sideways, feet tucked under Tony’s thigh, lounging against the arm of the sofa. He might be the only one who actually is watching the movie, and Tony knows he is because he keeps snickering and mouthing along with the lines under his breath.
Clint is watching Coulson who is watching his phone. Because that mutual pining disaster needs a sharp shove off a cliff before it’s going to get started. Thor is writing in a notebook, maybe a letter to Jane, maybe some indescribably interesting Asgardian science thoughts. Tony doesn’t know but he’d like to have a look either way because he’s both deeply invested in science and a terrible gossip. Bruce is on the floor on his laptop and he’s definitely doing science because every now and then Tony can hear him mumbling to himself. Tony would like a look at that too, but unlike Thor, Bruce will share it with him when he asks.
Nat’s not here or she’d be watching the movie with Steve.
Steve laughs under his breath again, his hand twitching where it rests on the arm Tony has thrown across the back of the couch, and Bucky’s eyes flicker. It’s a tiny, barely noticeable movement, but Tony’s watching Bucky watch Steve so intensely now that he doesn’t miss it.
Bucky has been watching Steve since he arrived at the tower, and Tony’s still trying to figure out why. It took a while for Tony to realize how twisted up Steve was about Bucky’s arrival and even now, a few weeks later, they still haven’t quite figured themselves out.
Tony’s not worried about “Bucky and Steve.” First of all, he trusts Steve more than he trusts himself, most days, and second of all, he’s never been the possessive type. If anything, the idea of Bucky having that kind of interest in Steve is sort of hot, though that’s a fantasy he’ll be keeping to himself for the foreseeable future. Everything’s confusing enough for Steve without Tony adding that to the mix. But he is worried about “Bucky” and “Steve” because Bucky’s doing a lot of staring but not a lot of talking and if there’s anything Tony’s learned from his many bouts in therapy it’s that Talking Is Important. Then again, the Therapists For the Rich and the Famous that he’s always gone to probably wouldn’t be prepared to handle a hundred-year-old super soldier who’d had his brain put through a slap chop a few times a month for seventy years, so perhaps it’s hardly relevant.
Still… he’s worried about the lack of talking around Steve. Bucky talks to Tony, a little, and he doesn’t stare at anything when it’s the two of them. But he doesn’t talk to Steve - at all - and he stares - a lot.
So, when the movie’s over and everyone has scurried off to their respective rooms, Clint walking Coulson out with a doe-eyed look, Tony corners Steve in the kitchen and tugs him in close, trapping himself between the edge of the counter and Steve’s formidable chest. Steve’s hands fall to Tony’s hips even as he gives him a look that says watch the PDA mister, because, bless him, Steve still worries about traumatizing their teammates.
“Is Bucky doing okay?” Tony asks, and Steve’s expression shifts sideways. He’d been expecting a come on, if Tony knows his particular faces - and he does, thank you very much - and not a Serious Talk.
“Yes? I think so. I mean, he’s still having nightmares sometimes, and I think he doesn’t fully trust himself. But he’s doing better, that’s for sure.”
Tony tries to structure his question in a way that doesn't come off as jealous sounding, but there really isn’t one. “He… stares at you a lot. Is that normal?”
“Stares at me?” Steve says, emphasis on the me as if he thinks Bucky’s been staring at the wallpaper instead.
“Well, yeah. And he doesn’t talk.”
“He talks.” Steve seems almost ruffled, a little offended on his friend’s behalf.
Tony holds his hands up. “I’m just worried, is all. If there’s something wrong between you two, I wanna help, if I can.”
“There’s nothing wrong between us, Tony. He talks to me, and he’s, uh, he’s not staring at me. He’s staring at you.” Steve blushes a little.
“What? No, he’s not.”
“He is. He only does it when you’re there. I hang out with him all the time. He talks to me, he’s relaxed. He doesn’t stare.”
“I -” Tony cuts himself off, confused. “But I hang out with him too.”
“He started showing up in the workshop, just sitting on the couch with a book at first, but now we chat. I thought the issue was with you.”
“No. No, he’s fine with me. Not the same as he was, of course, but doing alright.”
“So the blank staring thing…” Tony ponders.
“Maybe it’s groups? He’s overwhelmed by so many people at once?”
Steve’s hands settle more heavily on his hips, thumbs digging into the dip of his bones, petting the skin he finds under the edge of Tony’s waistband. “It takes time, Tony.”
“I know, I know. I’m not -” He waves a hand. “If he talks to you, it’s fine. I just wanted to make sure you two were okay. He’s your best friend. He needs you.”
Steve doesn’t say anything, but he smiles softly and leans in to press his lips against Tony’s. It’s late and everyone has gone to bed, so Tony grinds into the kiss, tugging Steve closer. Steve is adorably old-fashioned with PDA. He’ll hold Tony’s hand or snuggle up next to him on the couch, but staunchly refuses to kiss him in public. It doesn’t stop Tony from enjoying the way a flush creeps up the back of his neck when Tony slips his hands in Steve’s back pocket while they walk, though.
Steve deepens the kiss, and Tony hooks his hands over Steve’s hips and uses the leverage to hop up on the counter behind him, drawing Steve in between his legs. It’s bold, but Steve’s breath is going choppy and his tongue is pressing insistently between Tony’s lips, so Tony feels like he can get away with it. Desperate, pawing fingers ruck up under the back of Tony’s shirt and trace the edges of his spine, bringing a shiver up with them.
Tony rests his arms over Steve’s shoulders, giving up control and sighing as Steve draws a line of kisses across his cheek and over the ridge of his jaw. He flicks his gaze over Steve’s shoulder and the light catches a pair of eyes staring back at him from the edge of the living room. His heart kicks into overdrive and he’s tensing, ready to push Steve away, when his genius brain snaps several, oddly-shaped puzzle pieces into place at once.
And the picture they make is… interesting.
“Steve…” he whispers, keeping his eyes on Bucky’s - who hasn’t moved - but dropping his lips against Steve’s ear so he’ll feel the soft puff of warm breath. Steve hums in response. “Bucky is watching us - no! Don’t look.” Steve goes still in his arms but doesn’t move. “Babe… has it ever occurred to you that he might… like? Watching us?”
Tony swallows, resisting the urge to dart his tongue out and brush it over his lips. He’s never looked at Bucky head-on while he was doing his weird staring thing before, never matched his gaze with his own. And what he sees there isn’t fear or confusion or even longing, it’s hunger. “He only ever stares when we’re together. He doesn’t do it when it’s just you or just me. Has it ever occurred to you that he enjoys watching us together?”
“I -” Steve is supernaturally still between Tony’s legs, his hands marble where they rest on Tony’s shoulder blades. “No…”
“It’s occurring to me now,” Tony says, and his voice breaks - just a little - because Bucky’s eyes are so dark and utterly relentless in the way they’re taking him in. So Tony experiments. He tips his chin up, presses his hips forward. He winds his fingers through Steve’s hair, and he moans, softly, not breaking his highly charged staring contest with Barnes.
There’s a glint of light, and Tony realizes that Bucky’s hand had twitched, the metal one, and caught the beam that broke through the door to the hallway. The light flickers off the metal panels as Bucky makes a fist and releases it against his thigh. Tony’s never seen eyes like that. They bore right through him, deep inside him, and he’s instantly lightheaded and wild.
“Tony?” Steve says softly. He sounds a bit panicked, so Tony relaxes, easing Steve back away from him and finally breaking away from Bucky’s eyes to meet Steve’s again. It’s like snapping a thin glass rod when he blinks and turns; he can hear it falling to the ground and shattering between them. It vibrates to his core. When he flicks his eyes back, Bucky is gone.
“Oh my god, Steve,” he breathes out. He feels like he just ran a marathon and he’s not sure why, but there’s a painful stitch in his side and his throat is raw.
“What just happened?”
“Let’s go upstairs.” Tony hustles Steve to the door and into the elevator and he’s so charged up that he can’t keep his hands off Steve’s skin the whole ride up. They don’t kiss, they just breathe each others air and find enough friction with their bodies to set every nerve alight without bringing anything further along.
They stumble into the penthouse, and Steve rounds on Tony immediately. “Bucky was there?”
“He was there. He must have come back for something because I know he left. But he was there, and he was watching us.” Tony remembers the way his eyes had latched onto them and a shiver wriggles down his spine. Steve’s hands slither around his waist and catch it at the bottom, sending it shuddering right back up again to steal Tony’s breath from his throat.
“Do you think we upset him?”
“Definitely not.” Tony starts driving Steve backwards towards their bedroom because he needs his hands on Steve’s naked skin, like, yesterday and they’re still wearing clothes for some bizarre reason. “He was so into it. He looked like he wanted to eat me.” Tony dumps Steve on the bed on his back and starts tugging at his jeans. “That’s why he’s only been staring when we’re both there. He likes us together.” Tony succeeds in getting Steve’s pants off, then shucks his own, followed by his shirt. Steve sits up enough to get his shirt off, then catches an armful of Tony as he lands in his lap.
“You sure he wasn’t upset?” Steve asks as he nibbles his way across Tony’s collarbone.
“He was not upset,” Tony assures him. He closes his eyes, and he can see Bucky’s again, dark, needy, electrified.
He moans and rocks his hips forward. Steve’s hands settle on his waist. “You liked it didn't you?” he breathes. His hand drops down to wrap around Tony’s cock. “You liked him watching.”
“I did,” Tony admits.
Steve shifts them around until he’s sitting back against the headboard with Tony in his lap. He hooks one hand around the back of Tony’s neck and grabs both their cocks with the other, stroking them as one - tight, rough. Tony’s breath catches. “If he liked that,” Steve pants out, “I bet he’d love your face when you come.”
A lightning bolt of arousal ricochets through Tony’s core. “I - I bet. Yes.” He starts to rock into Steve’s hold, both hands braced on the headboard behind him. “Yes.”
It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for Steve’s firm strokes to bring Tony to the edge, scrabbling his hands desperately against Steve’s back, leaving marks there that will be gone by the time he has the chance to see them.
Steve’s fingers tighten against Tony’s neck, and he whispers, “Yeah, that face,” eyes fixed intently on Tony’s, and that’s it. Tony comes with a rush of giddiness. He spills over Steve’s fist and Steve releases him, using Tony’s come to smooth the slide of his hand on his own cock. Tony struggles to breathe while he watches Steve stroke himself, unable to do anything more than stare as Steve tenses, gasps, then comes.
They both collapse onto the bed, shifting up so they’re side-by-side on the bed. “Are you actually into this?” Tony asks, when he can speak again. “Like, is this something you’re doing for me or do you get off on it too? Not that I mind you doing things for me, I’m just...yeah.”
“Um. Yes. It’s a thing for me,” Steve says quietly. “It always has been, actually. It’s, uh, it’s why I don’t like touching you much in public.”
“That. That’s counterintuitive,” Tony says with a laugh that comes out entirely too much like a giggle. Damn those post-orgasm endorphins.
“No - it’s. It feels like I’m, you know, bringing people into our bedroom who didn’t agree to it. Like if they saw us kissing, I’d enjoy it more than was fair to them.”
“Oh. Oh. Shit, Steve. Do you want to bring someone into our bedroom? Someone who did agree to it?” Tony props himself up on his elbow to get a look at Steve’s face. Steve’s flushed and nervous, but his eyes are lust-dark, and he’s hard again already.
“Yes?” He shifts so the soft sheets brush over his new erection, and he moans softly. “Please.”
“If he wants to.”
“What do you want him to do?” Tony slithers down the bed and takes Steve’s cock in his hand, licks a stripe up the underside and grins when Steve shivers.
“Uh, watch us,” Steve admits. “Get off on watching us. Maybe, um, you know, join in… or something. He could - touch.”
“Have you and Bucky ever done something like that before?” Tony wraps his lips around the head of Steve’s cock and sucks, then slides down.
“No.” Steve rocks up into Tony’s mouth, but Tony lands a hand on his hip, holding him down. He sucks him slowly, and he knows they’re both thinking about Bucky being there, watching them. It doesn’t take long until Steve is tensing up, curling around Tony’s head, then holding him down as he pulses in his mouth. Tony pulls back smiling and lets it all dribble out again, dripping spit and come on Steve’s stomach because they have to take a shower anyway. Steve laughs, high too, and shoves Tony away.
In the shower, they grin at each and share the shampoo, and then Tony says, “Should we ask him?”
And Steve says, “Let’s feel him out a little first. See how he reacts to some stuff.”
“Steve Rogers, are you asking me to get frisky with you in public?”
Steve shakes his head fondly and smacks Tony with the loofah, but it’s not a no.
So, the next time it’s just the three of them, Tony tries to make a little show of it. He rests his hand on Steve’s thigh a little higher up than usual when they sit, and he snuggles his cheek down against Steve’s shoulder. When Steve gets up to get a drink, Tony tugs him in for a kiss, flicking his eyes over to Bucky as they part.
Bucky’s watching again, eyes dark again, but there’s a little tension there too, and it takes Tony a while to figure it out. The next time Steve goes to get a fresh beer, Tony follows him. “He’s nervous.”
“Hmm.” Steve picks at the label on his bottle. “Maybe we should back off.”
“I - don’t think it’s that kind of nervous.” Tony takes a swig of his own drink and frowns. It’s not the kind he likes.
“What do you mean?”
“I think he’s worried that I’m being, you know, ‘back off’-y.”
“Yeah, you know, possessive. He needs to see that you’re into it too.”
Steve shifts his weight from side to side. “Tony…”
“Unless you’re not.” Tony holds up a hand and moves closer, bringing it back down to settle on Steve’s arm. “It’s okay if you’re not.”
“No, I am.” Steve colours prettily. “I just don’t want to push him, if he’s not. You say you saw, but…”
Tony steps back. “Okay. It’s up to you, then. You drive. Carte blanche to ravish me in front of him though.” Tony smirks, shooting Steve a look up from under his lashes.
Steve’s next breath is heavy and sharp. “Okay.”
It’s two more days of relatively innocuous behaviour before Steve’s hands tighten around Tony’s waist where they sit curled together in the big armchair. Steve’s hands twitch, and he hums a little under his breath, then his fingers start to dance under the hem of Tony’s shirt. Tony’s lifts his face from his book, but Steve isn’t looking at him, he’s looking over Tony’s shoulder and his eyes have gone dark and lust-blown.
“Is he there?” Tony murmurs under his breath, aware that Bucky’s hearing is as good, or better, than Steve’s.
Steve just hums again in response, but it’s a yes. He tugs Tony tighter, dragging him fully into his lap, then starts drawing hot, wet kisses down the side of his neck. Tony moans softly and sinks into the touch. He wishes he could see Bucky too but the way Steve’s hands clutch desperately at Tony’s clothes, tells him everything he needs to know.
Tony’s hard after only a few minutes of attention, feeling the heat of Bucky’s eyes on the back of his neck as Steve caresses him. Steve lifts him up with no warning, nips the soft skin behind his ear then turns and walks out, heading for the elevator. As he turns, Tony sees Bucky, leaning mock-casually against the far wall by the door to the stairs, eyes on them. Tony locks eyes with him, lets out a soft breath, then winks. There’s no mistaking that.
Bucky swallows, hard, and his lips part, his tongue flicking out to run along them, and Tony can’t help but rut up against Steve’s hips, squirming in his arms. As soon as the elevator doors close behind them, Steve has Tony up against the wall, claiming him in a bruising kiss. They’re ruffled and untucked and wild by the time they stumble into the penthouse, shedding clothes. Tony almost brings Steve down onto the living room carpet, but they make it to the bed, and Steve falls onto his back.
Tony guides him up towards the headboard then reaches for the lube. He straddles Steve’s hips and slicks his fingers, but reaches behind himself, sliding two fingers into his hole and groaning at the steady roll of pleasure it releases. Steve grips his hips, and his whole body tenses underneath him.
“Do you think -” Steve sucks in a sharp breath “- that’d he’d like to see this?”
Tony meets Steve’s eyes with his own, trying to gauge - is this a game still, or does Steve really mean that? Tony works himself open quickly, then moves forward, lining up Steve’s cock against and pressing down a scant inch. “I think he would… would you want to show him?”
The question is heavy, solid, not the ephemeral stuff of fantasy but a real proposal, and Steve takes two unsteady breaths to think about it. “Yes.”
“JARVIS… send a link to Barnes if he’s in his apartment.” Tony keeps his eyes on Steve’s, giving him a chance to stop it, but he doesn’t. “Put a note on it: ‘Open if you’d like to watch. Only if you’re alone. We can’t see you, you can only see us.’”
Steve shivers, right down to his toes, and Tony shifts up a bit, arching his back, letting Steve’s hands keep him from tipping backwards. A moment later, a large green dot appears in the corner of the TV screen on the far wall. He’s watching.
Tony rolls his hips, and Steve gasps. He gives it a moment more, to give Bucky the chance to leave without seeing too much if he doesn’t want to, but the green dot stays steadily in the corner so Tony lifts himself up a little then rocks back down, sinking onto Steve’s cock with a drawn-out moan. Tony takes Steve’s hands in his own and braces them on the mattress next to Steve’s head. He rides him slowly, letting Steve twine their fingers together and hold on for dear life, whimpering with every roll of his hips. Every now and then, Tony can’t help it, he flicks his eyes over to make sure the green light is still there.
Steve starts panting his name with every other breath, eyes squeezed closed, and Tony knows he’s close. But he doesn’t change his rhythm, keeping it slow, drawing it out. He can’t help thinking about the way his back arches, what the curve of his ass looks like from the angle of JARVIS’ camera in the corner. Where are Bucky’s eyes now? Is he watching Steve’s chin tip up, bringing his shoulders up off the sheets as he begs silently for release? Is he watching Tony’s hips lift then shift back down, working Steve’s cock in and out of his hole? Is he watching Tony’s face? Steve’s lips? The way he -
Steve comes, one full body shudder, and he squeezes Tony’s hands until they’re nearly bruised as Tony rides him through it. He can’t help it - his eyes flit over to the camera in the corner, imagining that its hidden lens is Bucky’s gaze, peering out of the darkness. He doesn’t realize how close he is until Steve closes his fist around Tony’s cock, still buried deep in his ass, and strokes him twice. His eyes snap back to Steve’s, and he gasps as his orgasm punches through him with no warning, buzzy and overwhelming, setting him hypersensitive in an instant so he has to bat Steve away and roll onto his back on the sheets.
They lie there together, exposed, unspeaking, filthy, and Tony’s eyes catch the moment the light turns from green to red. He was definitely watching.
They can’t stop; neither of them wants to, and, it seems, neither does Bucky. With one look, they can both tell what the other is thinking, and inevitably one of them will ask JARVIS to turn on the camera. There’s only one night in two weeks that they offer but the light stays red, and Bucky casually drops it into conversation the next day that he was out with Clint and Nat the night before. Tony is relieved; he didn’t even know it had been bothering him.
Then Tony gets caught up in a new product release in Japan, and he needs to spend five days in Tokyo - there’s no way around it. In eight months of dating, he and Steve have been surprisingly successful at not being apart more than a night or two, so this is hard. It’s also hard because Tony’s worried that if they go too long without a show for Bucky, it’ll fade or die or become awkward or something.
When he clicks on his daily Skype call - morning for him, evening for Steve - and sees the telltale pink on Steve’s cheek and the way he keeps shifting in his chair, Tony runs his tongue over his bottom lip and leans back seductively in his chair.
“Got something to show me, baby?” he asks, voice dropping low.
Steve nods. He pushes the computer back a little and reorients his chair until Tony can see into his lap. Even through the webcam, Tony can see that Steve is hard, tenting his boxers and leaving a damp spot where he’s been leaking precome.
“Have you been waiting for me?” Tony breathes, dropping his hand to his own pants.
“Yes.” Steve wriggles out of his boxers and strokes his hand lazily over his erection, framing it between his fingers, showing it off for Tony. Tony’s fingers itch to touch, and his mouth floods with saliva.
Steve strokes again, with more purpose this time, and Tony gets a hand around his own cock, then pauses - huh. Steve senses his loss of attention and stills too, tipping his head to the side in curiosity.
“We could… Bucky could join us here too?” Tony offers. “We can patch him in.”
“Do you mind?” Steve immediately perks up. “I mean, since you can’t touch me… and everything.”
Tony isn’t entirely sure what the everything is, but he senses it’s something along the lines of “Bucky is here and you’re not.” With three floors of metal and glass between them, though, Bucky might as well be in Japan too. “Course I don’t mind. That would be - he could watch us both.”
“Yes,” Steve hums, his hand moving again, rougher, faster already.
Tony types a few commands to JARVIS on his phone, and a moment later, a small black square appears on the side of the screen. Bucky is watching.
Tony shifts his sleep pants down his hips and pulls his cock out too. He strokes soft and gentle, preferring to watch Steve work himself up before he gets too close himself. “What would you want me to do to you if I were there?” he asks, resisting the urge to close his eyes.
“I’d want you to touch me everywhere,” Steve says. “I need your hands on me.”
“I wouldn’t.” Tony’s voice hitches as he tightens his grip. “I’d touch everywhere except where you want to be touched. I’d make you stand up against the wall and work my way down from your neck to your toes but not touch your cock.”
“Ah, fuck, Tony.” Steve shifts down in his chair, lifting his hips a little towards his hand.
“I’d wait until you were ready to cry and then suck you down my throat. Or I’d - ung - beg you to fuck me.”
“I’d bite you,” Steve breathes out, and Tony gasps as his pleasure ratchets up several more levels. He imagines Steve’s teeth sinking into the thick muscle of his shoulder while Bucky watches on, and he’s startlingly close only a few strokes later.
“Fuck, Steve, you’re going to make me come.”
“I want to see that. Come for me, baby, please.” But it’s Steve that comes, biting down hard on his lip and arching back in his chair. His hips come right off the seat as he spills over his fist and Tony has the perfect view of the mess he makes. He knows Bucky has the perfect view too. Tony thinks about those perfect teeth sinking into his lip instead, nipping, tugging, and with a few more firm pulls he follows Steve, panting out his name as he comes.
“Steve… fuck. I love you.” He leans back in his chair and groans as the tension sifts out of his muscles and leaves him pleasantly wrung out.
“Love you too.”
Tony glances at the black square but it doesn’t go away, and he doesn’t ask JARVIS to kick Bucky out. He finds he likes the idea of him being there for this part too. He and Steve have a happy, loving relationship, he wants to show that off, and he wants Bucky to feel some residual warmth from them as well, if that’s possible. “I miss you,” he adds.
“I visited DUM-E and U today,” Steve says, tucking himself back in his boxers and scooching back up towards the screen. He also doesn't say anything about Bucky’s continued presence.
Tony smiles and leans back in his chair. He has to leave soon, but he’s got a few minutes more. He’ll always have a few minutes more for Steve. “How’re they doing?”
“Did you tell them to rehang the shelves on the north wall while you were gone? Because they’re taking it very seriously, but without much success.”
“No! That’s - dammit. JARVIS!” Tony flicks his eyes over to his other screen as JARVIS spews up the results of the bot’s current command queue. They willfully misinterpret him, Tony’s sure of it, and he hasn’t decided if he’s pissed off at them or proud of himself for programming something that can. He waves a hand in the end and dismisses it. “Whatever, I’ll sort it out when I get home.”
Steve smiles softly. “Which is in two days.”
“You know it.”
They gaze at each other stupidly for a moment, and Tony registers with the part of his brain that’s not floating on love chemicals that Bucky’s black square is still there. It isn’t until Tony sighs and says, “I have to go,” and Steve whispers, “Bye,” and blows a kiss to the screen, that Bucky finally leaves.
Two days later, Steve and Tony’s reunion is enthusiastic and heartfelt. Tony takes a moment to burrow himself in Steve’s arms and breathe deeply, drawing in the first full-feeling breath he’s had since he got on that plane.
It’s not long before they’re naked and stretched out on the bed, Steve on his back and Tony laid out between his knees, propping himself up on one elbow, Bucky’s light in the corner of the screen searing a line of heat down Tony’s spine.
And it makes perfect sense to say, “We could invite him up here to watch,” but he can’t quite keep the waver out of his voice.
There’s a pause that feels like it goes on for a year, but then Steve breathes out, “yes,” and his hands clench on Tony’s arm. Tony glances up towards the screen, eager, but his grin falls off and shatters on the floor. The green dot has snapped to red.
Steve shuffles up onto his elbows and sighs. “Too much?”
Tony shrugs. Maybe if they don’t mention it again, Bucky will be back next time and they can quietly move on. Tony leans down to kiss Steve, draw him back into the moment, sadly alone this time, when a knock on the door makes them both jump.
Steve’s eyes go comically wide, and Tony hovers there for a second, then rolls off him and onto the floor. Steve tugs the sheets up, just enough to cover his rock hard erection, but the vee of his hips is still visible, and Tony pulls on a robe. He’s 98% sure he’s going to find a horny, desperate Bucky on the other side of the door, but just in case it’s a Clint who broke the dishwasher again, he ties the robe around his waist and pulls the bedroom door nearly closed.
“Hey,” Tony says, because he’s always been smooth like that. Bucky stares at him, and he looks nervous but also tense, wound up, and Tony puts him out of his misery as easily as he can. “Want to come in?”
Bucky nods, short and sharp.
“I’m glad you came,” Tony says softly, and he’s surprised to see that Bucky is surprised too. That’s all Tony says, he steps away and leads Bucky to the bedroom door. He walks through, leaving it open, but when Bucky comes in behind him, he closes it. His eyes fall to Steve.
Steve is still sprawled on the bed, pushed up on his elbows with the sheet pooling low over his hips. The light is soft, but Tony can make out the tempting lines of his abs and the sweet curve of his shoulder, and he knows Bucky can see even better. Tony hooks his foot around the leg of the chair in the corner and tugs it closer to the bed in invitation. Then he unties his robe and lets it fall to the floor.
Bucky’s eyes track from Steve over to Tony, down to his feet then up, over the swell of his ass, the arch of his back, across his shoulders and to his face. They lock eyes and there it is - that intense, dark-edged heat, like magma. It’s a lot, almost too much, and Tony struggles to take in a breath without dropping his gaze. But Bucky releases him to sit in the chair, and Tony turns back to Steve. Those eyes are back on him though; he can feel it.
Tony urges Steve onto his side, facing Bucky, and he traces the edge of Steve’s spreading flush up his chest, neck, over his jaw with his tongue. Tony curls behind Steve, tucking him back into the curve of his body, the smooth skin of his ass grinding against Tony’s cock. He pulls the lube out from under the pillow and slicks his fingers. When he slides two into Steve’s hole, Steve shudders and tips his head back, baring his neck. Tony falls to it, scraping his teeth along the taut tendons. At the edge of Steve’s jaw, Tony looks up and meets Bucky’s burning gaze. They hold it, eyes locked, electricity crackling between them, while Steve writhes on Tony’s fingers.
When Steve is panting and his hole is loose and slick around Tony’s fingers, he pushes his cock in alongside, leaving two fingers in place and moaning at the tight grip of Steve’s body around him.
“Oh, god, Tony,” Steve whimpers. Tony watches as Steve’s eyes flutter open and land on Bucky. Bucky’s gaze snaps from Tony to Steve. “He feels so good,” Steve says, almost tentatively, but Bucky likes it. He shifts in his chair, a sizeable erection obviously tenting his pants, and licks his lips. “You can touch yourself,” Steve says, and Tony turns to see Bucky shift on the chair again. He nods then unzips his pants and pulls his cock out. He’s so hard, leaking too, and Tony can’t help but preen a little that he and Steve made Bucky like that, turned him on that much.
Bucky strokes his hand up his length, and Tony has to bite his lip and bury his face between Steve’s shoulder blades if he wants to last.
“You, uh, you can touch us too,” Steve adds, as he turns to look at Tony over his shoulder in a way that makes it a question too.
Tony nods, presses deep inside Steve again, but Bucky whispers “No,” from the chair and they both turn to look at him. It’s the first time he’s spoken. “I don’t - I don’t trust myself. Yet.” The hand flexes, panels shifting and fluttering as they open and close. Tony catches Bucky’s eye and nods again. It’s okay. Bucky relaxes.
Soon, Tony is lost in the rhythmic slide in and out of Steve’s heat. Steve opens his legs, planting his foot on the other side of Tony’s hips so he can hold himself open, and it’s like he’s presenting himself to Bucky but he’s also arching into the perfect angle for Tony to fuck him deep and punishing. And it just works. Having Bucky here is so seamless and right and hot as fuck. Tony wants it to last forever, as much as he desperately wants to come, but inevitably he hits the point of no return and with a few more stuttering thrusts he spills inside Steve.
Steve’s hand snaps to his own cock, and he pulls it roughly, eyes squeezed shut how, flush bloomed all the way down to his stomach. Tony and Bucky are both watching when Steve stills, shakes, and paints his pink chest white with long stripes.
Tony slips down to his elbows, heaving in lungfuls of air. When he turns, Bucky is wiping his hand off with his shirt. He tucks himself away and zips up then he stands. Tony opens his mouth to say something, maybe to say thank you, maybe to ask Bucky to stay, but Bucky gives them a sharp nod, eyes on Steve, and walks out.
“Holy shit,” Tony breathes out when he’s gone, and Steve nods, gazing up at the ceiling like he just got hit by a truck.
Tony wonders if this will be the time that things are different in the morning, but they’re not. Bucky argues with Clint over waffles and as soon as he and Steve walk in, Bucky pulls Steve into the argument too. It’s familial and safe and entirely unweird and that in itself makes it a bit weird, but Tony can cope.
Then Bucky looks up and catches Tony’s eye and smiles, ever so hesitantly, and there’s no trace of the magma from last night, just soft affection. Tony relaxes.
It happens again, of course it does. After last time, Steve and Tony are both eager for a repeat. So, two nights later, they send an invite through JARVIS, and they’re already started when they hear the front door open.
Bucky slips into the room and settles into his chair without a word. Tony threads his fingers through Steve’s hair and rocks into his mouth, slick heat and soft pressure. He makes himself wait, knowing Bucky’s there watching but not looking himself, his eyes closed, until he’s close - so close his fingertips are digging into Steve’s scalp and he’s thrusting forward now and his thighs are trembling - and then he opens his eyes. Bucky’s staring at him, lips parted, hair mussed. His eyes are wide and unwavering. His pants are open and his cock is in his hand and Tony wants to get his mouth on it desperately. It pushes Tony over the edge. He cries out and shoves his cock as far down Steve’s throat as he can get it, coming hard enough that his toes curl in the carpet and he feels strung taut and then strung out a heartbeat later.
Tony falls back on the bed, and Steve crawls up over him and has his cock pushed down Tony’s throat before Tony has time to get in a full breath. But that makes him moan and stretch his tongue out, sucking desperate lungfuls of air through his nose. There’s a noise beside him, and he flicks his eyes over to see Bucky staring at him, his tongue caught between his teeth. Tony finds after a moment that they’re breathing in tandem, chests heaving together, and Steve never eases up, shoving himself between Tony’s lips until they’re sore and tingling.
Bucky goes tense in his chair, arching his back. His eyes never close, never waver from where they’ve pinned Tony to the bed and when he comes, Tony can feel an echo of it in his own gut. His mouth fills with bitter come, and Steve pulls back, painting the last few spurts over Tony’s cheeks and lips.
Tony’s spinning and drifting into sleep already, and he barely has enough energy to register how hot it is when Steve bends down and licks his own come off Tony’s face. But Bucky groans, and Tony imagines he’s going to jerk off to it later and ah that’s so hot.
Bucky stands, and Tony registers dimly that Steve walks out with him. He wonders if they’re going to talk, but he’s asleep before Steve gets back. He half-wakes up just enough to feel warm arms wrap around him and a kiss press to the top of his head before he’s out again.
Steve’s already awake in the morning, but he hasn’t left for a run, sitting slouched against the headboard and gazing down at Tony. When Tony blinks his eyes open, Steve’s fingers land in his hair and start to stroke through the tangled strands. It’s so soothing, Tony almost drifts off again.
But then Steve says, “Should we talk to him?” and Tony is very awake all of a sudden.
“Probably. What do you want to say?”
Steve doesn’t really have an answer for that, but they both think about it throughout the day. When they come together again for dinner, Steve clearly has words built up, ready to slip out. Tony gives him a little go ahead gesture with his fork.
“I love you,” Steve starts, and Tony smiles. “And I think… if he were open to it, I could come to love Bucky too. I mean, I do love him, he’s my best friend, but I could fall in love with him. If I let myself.”
“Could?” Tony asks, gently. “Or already have?”
“Could.” Steve meets Tony’s eyes and holds them, firm, sure. “If you want to stop this, all you have to do is say the word. Right now it’s just sex - amazing sex, but just sex. Things will go back to normal if we stop. I’m not harbouring anything, really. But this feels like a tipping point, you know? I could fall over the edge, if it were an option. What do you think?”
Tony takes a moment to think it over, even though he’s been thinking about it all day, and really, that’s exactly what he expected Steve to say. “I think I could too. I’d like him to be a part of us, at least. I like the way he makes you smile and he can hold his own with my banter and yeah… if you and I weren’t already together, and I didn’t think I’d be getting in between you two, I’d ask him out. Is that enough?”
Steve beams so brightly Tony’s worried about light damage to the original Pollock on the living room wall. “Yes, that’s enough. It’s enough for me - we need to know if it’s enough for him.”
It’s another two days before they have Bucky in their bedroom again, and this time, right when Tony’s on the edge and ready to tumble over, there’s a low murmur he can’t make out from the chair. But Steve hears it, of course he does, and his eyes go wide for a moment, then he leans down and sinks his teeth into the side of Tony’s neck. It’s stacking pleasure because Steve’s teeth make Tony’s whole body clench up which sets off a shiver of new sensation through his body, but the knowledge that Bucky told Steve what to do makes it feel like they’re both working to get Tony off and that’s it, that’s enough.
When all three of them are sweaty and sated and Bucky’s wiping his come off his hands and rising up out of his chair, Steve says, “Stay for a drink?” and Bucky freezes.
“Please?” Tony adds, to make sure Bucky knows they both want him there.
“Okay.” He’s tense, and Tony wishes he knew what kind of tense it was because if it’s one kind it’s about to get better and if it’s the other it’s about to get worse.
Bucky accepts a drink, and the three of them settle around the kitchen island, Steve on one side, and Tony and Bucky on stools on the other.
“We just wanted to make sure this was okay,” Steve says, blushing and trying to look like he’s owning it.
Bucky shrugs. “If it weren’t okay, I’d say no.”
“Good.” Tony rolls the ice cubes around in his glass. “We just had to make sure of that, you know. Cause we don’t want you to just be doing this for us.”
Bucky shifts a little on his stool, eyes flicking between the two of them. “No… I mean… you guys are hot as fuck, so.”
“You said you weren’t ready to touch. Yet,” Steve says pointedly, and they lock gazes for a moment, sharing something telepathically between the two of them. “Does that mean, someday...?”
“Do you want that?” Bucky asks, and Tony wonders if it had just been an excuse before, that he hadn’t touched because he wasn’t sure where the boundaries were.
“We want whatever you’re willing to give us.” Tony tries to put it into words that are clear without being terrifying. “We like when you’re here, and not just because you’re scorching. If you want to touch, whenever you feel ready, I hope you will. It’s okay if you don’t ever want to, though. But there’s a space here, with us, for you…” Tony trails off, feeling like that’s cryptic, but Bucky is giving him this soft, open look that Tony’s never seen before, and he nods once, sharply.
“Thanks.” They hang in silence for a moment. It feels like there’s more he wants to say. “I don’t want to… ruin anything. Come between anything.”
“Mmm, you can come between us anytime, hot stuff,” Tony quips, earning him a stern look from Steve and a snort from Bucky. “But seriously, we talked about it, okay? We wouldn’t tell you there’s space if there isn’t. You won’t ruin anything. We want you here. However you want to be here. We can do the video thing, or the chair thing, or try some new things - it’s all up to you. Or if you want things to just go back to the way they were before, that’s fine too.”
“No. I - I don’t want that. I don’t want to lose this.”
“Good.” Steve reaches out and runs his palm down the length of Bucky’s arm then leans back. “Neither do we.”
Tony has the vicarious urge for Steve to kiss Bucky, but it’s clear Bucky’s not ready for that, so instead, Tony stands up on the bracing bar of the stool, leans over the counter and draws Steve into a deep, passionate kiss. When he pulls back, Bucky’s watching them, but in a slightly different way. The hunger is still here, but it’s softer, warmer, less burning and more smoldering. It warms Tony right down to his toes.
Bucky starts showing up in the evenings on his own, and Tony makes sure to encourage it, beaming at him every time the opened door reveals him standing, slightly nervous, on the threshold. “You don’t have to knock, hot stuff,” Tony says with a wink. “It’s not like you’re going to catch us doing anything you haven’t seen already.”
“Don’t know about that,” Bucky grumbles. “Walked in on Stevie clipping his toenails once when we lived together. Not something you can unsee.”
Tony laughs and pushes Bucky towards the sofa. Steve’s already curled up in the corner, frowning at the TV. “What’s Scully disbelieving now?” Tony asks as he breezes in. It started a couple days ago, when Tony found out that neither of them had seen The X-Files, and somehow they’d spent the whole evening watching and hadn’t made it into the bedroom. Bucky had staggered off, half-asleep, at 2am, and Tony’s eyes had caught Steve’s. They’d both clearly been thinking the same thing: it would have been nice if he’d stayed.
Tonight, though, they only get twenty minutes in before Steve’s hand is wandering up the inside of Tony’s leg and Bucky’s eyes have moved from the screen to the places where their bodies meet.
Tony stands first, grabbing Steve’s hand to pull him up after and catching Bucky’s eyes as he walks towards the bedroom. Bucky follows them, his uneasiness gone, and he settles into his chair, unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out before Steve and Tony are even naked.
Tony takes his time undressing Steve, turning him around as he does so Bucky gets a good look at all his perfect curves and edges, then lets Steve do the same for him. They tumble onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, and Tony finds that even though they’re putting on a show, he doesn’t feel the need to perform. He imagines that Bucky likes their silly softness as much as their intense heat, and he doesn’t mind - enjoys even - getting to share that too. They explore each other lazily, enjoying the warmth and pleasure of acres of naked skin twined together before a shift of the hips and a low moan pushes them tight and needy again.
Tony urges Steve onto his back and falls between his legs, bypassing his cock to nose at his balls, then lower. He flicks his tongue out against Steve’s rim and thrums with satisfaction when Steve moans, long and low, and grips the sheets in both fists. And now he does want to put on a bit of a show because he’s fucking excellent at this and he wants Bucky to feel it.
He sucks and licks for a while, waiting until Steve is on the edge of forgetting what year it is before he pushes his tongue deep inside his hole. There’s a small sound to his right, and Tony thrills; a crack in Bucky’s shell feels like a fucking Oscar. He fucks Steve with his tongue, resisting the urge to rub off on the sheets because he desperately wants to feel Steve on his cock. But he can only take it for so long, and Steve’s so hard and his balls are tight against the base of his cock and Tony doesn’t want to bring him there like this.
So, he pulls away and draws a line of kisses up Steve’s chest. He doesn't look at Bucky because he’s enjoying feeling that hot gaze all over him and if he looks, it’ll tighten to one pinpoint. His skin tingles everywhere with the knowledge that Bucky’s watching, that he’s right there, close enough to touch, and Steve’s here under his hands and Steve’s getting off on it too. Tony barely slicks himself since Steve is wet and open already, and he pushes in slowly, easing in one inch at a time until he’s buried deep and they both breathe out a tense sigh. Tony stills, all the way inside Steve, drowning in his heat, and tips his chin ever so slightly towards Bucky.
“Fuck him,” Bucky growls out, and Tony is all too willing to oblige. He pushes Steve’s knees bent and braces himself on his fists on either side of Steve’s head. Short, sharp thrusts bury him deep in Steve’s ass over and over and sends shock after shock of pleasure jolting up his spine. Tony catches Steve’s eyes and holds them for a moment, unable to speak but pouring in all of the immense feelings he can’t tamp down, doesn’t want to tamp down.
There’s a movement to his right, and he looks over to see Bucky shifting towards them. He has his eyes fixed on Tony, and he stretches one hand out towards the mattress. Tony thinks he’s going to touch, and he wants it, vibrates for it, but then Bucky’s eyes cut to Steve. Steve’s hand unfurls from where it’s wound into the sheets, and he stretches it out towards Bucky. They grab hands, fingers twisting around each other’s wrists, and the grip is more like one for stopping someone from falling off a cliff edge than a lovers hold. But maybe that’s what they both need, because Bucky’s arm is tensing and there’s a ripple of muscle from Steve’s shoulder up through to Bucky’s neck. They cling to each other, desperate, while Tony fucks into Steve, deep and relentless.
When Bucky comes, his knuckles go white where he’s holding Steve, and apparently that’s enough for Steve because he cries out Tony’s name, loud, and shoots all over his own chest without a breath of touch on his cock.
Tony can’t look away from where their hands are joined as he slams into Steve, near frantic now, chasing a rapidly building pleasure. When it hits him, he jerks back, so when he slides out, his come slips free of Steve’s body with him and drips over his ass onto the sheets. It’s such a fucking incredible visual that even 0.2 seconds after coming, Tony’s dick makes a valiant but pointless effort to get things started again.
Tony moans, telling his dick to chill the fuck out and slumps sideways onto the bed. Steve’s hand lands on Tony’s arms and half guides, half drags Tony up to his side. Tony burrows into his chest, and Bucky must have released his hand because both of Steve’s are brushing soothing circles on Tony’s back now.
“You could stay?” Steve says softly, and it takes a beat for Tony to realize he’s talking to Bucky. “If you want. We have a guest room, or here with us. You don’t have to, but it would be nice to wake up and have breakfast together.”
Tony quietly crosses his fingers, because shit yeah that does sound nice, and Steve knows Bucky better, knows when to push and when to back off and apparently today was a push day because Bucky says, “Okay,” and strips his clothes off.
It’s the first time Tony’s seen him fully naked, and where he was too exhausted to move before, now he has the strength to lift his head and watch Bucky slink over to the bed and crawl in beside Steve. Steve shuffles over to give him his own space in the huge king-size, jostling Tony over with him.
Bucky props himself up on one elbow and watches the two of them for a while, the lines of tension in his body gradually smoothing as time ticks on. Eventually, Tony is too sticky to be borne, and he climbs out of bed to get a washcloth. He cleans up, tosses it to Steve, then goes back in to brush his teeth. Steve and Bucky are almost asleep by the time he gets back, so he just flicks off the light and crawls in on the other side of Steve. Steve’s arm comes up around Tony’s shoulders and Tony presses a line of kisses along his shoulder, breathing in his scent and holding him tighter and tighter until sleep finally claims him.
In the morning, Bucky’s still in bed, and while he’s still semi-isolated on his side of the bed, the fingers of Steve’s left hand are wound with those of his right. It gives Tony a settled, solid feeling, like a bracing beam has been strapped onto his foundation and one of the wiggly bits doesn’t shake anymore. It’s right.
Staying the night becomes habit as easily as the rest has. Once in a while, Bucky leaves after they’ve all found release. Shooting them an almost apologetic smile before he slips out of the room. But most of the nights, he stays, stretched out happily on his side of the huge bed. The first morning that Tony wakes to feel cool, metal fingers resting on his hip, he grins so brightly up at the ceiling that he’s sure the intensity of it will wake the men on either side of him.
Each night, Bucky’s chair moves closer and closer, until he perches on the edge of the bed while Steve pounds into Tony from behind, and Tony, on his hands and knees, holds onto the sheets for dear life. Two metal fingers land on Tony’s side and skate down over his ribs, and now he can feel Bucky’s eyes and Bucky’s touch on him and it’s almost too much. When Bucky wraps his fist around Tony’s cock and strokes - that’s it Tony’s gone.
He’s already half insensible by the time Steve gets there, registering that both super soldiers have painted his back with come, but not caring. One of them wipes him clean, the other nudges him into the centre of the bed. He falls asleep with a man he loves on either side of him, two hands twined together over his chest.
A few hours later - it can only be a few - he wakes to a gentle rocking against him and realizes that Steve is groaning softly and rutting against Tony’s thigh. It’s not unusual, if Steve only comes once, for him to wake again soon after, needing more. Tony reaches a hand out blindly and furrows it through Steve’s hair. He can feel Bucky’s breath on the back of his neck.
“Fuck me,” Tony whispers to Steve in the dark, and Steve cuts off a sharp breath then moans. He pushes at Tony desperately, shoving and rolling and climbing on top of him until Tony finds himself tucked in the vee of Bucky’s legs behind him, both of them rolled onto their backs. He’s a little worried, at first, that this will be too much for Bucky, but Steve leans over Tony’s chest, and he hears more than sees their lips meet in a soft kiss. It’s warm and tender and everything that Tony wants for Bucky and even half-asleep as he is, he’s filled from head to toe with a profoundly settling satisfaction.
He wants to kiss Bucky too, but then Steve’s already pushing into him, still slick and open from earlier, but sensitive too. He casts about for something to hold onto, anything, and his hands find Bucky's, twine their fingers together, clamp down. There’s metal on one side of him and flesh on the other - Steve above him and Bucky behind. He’s safe and held on all sides and it’s dizzying in the way it feels like completion.
Bucky’s now-hard cock presses against Tony’s back, and as Steve slides into him with fierce, punishing thrusts, he thinks about how stretched, how full, he would be to have Bucky slide in beside Steve. It’s something he wants, desperately, but isn’t ready for now, and he clenches down at the idea, his muscles going tense and then sending shocks of pleasure through his core as the change makes Steve ram against his prostate.
Tony’s just hitting a peak when Steve drops his forehead to Tony’s shoulder and stills, arching his back to push him as deep as he can as his cock throbs and pulses, filling Tony up. When he pulls away, Tony is left wanting so he grinds back against Bucky’s lap and begs, “Will you fuck me? I’m so close.” He feels bad, distantly, for asking when they haven't talked about it, when he doesn’t know what Bucky wants, but Bucky doesn’t hesitate. He grabs Tony by both thighs and lifts him while sliding him back so he can lower him down onto his cock. He’s not as long as Steve, but he’s thicker, and there are three whole breaths where Tony’s not sure he can take it. But his body relaxes accepts the change, and then Bucky’s rocking into him from behind.
Steve half-slumps over Tony’s body, but he’s supporting most of his weight on one arm so Tony can still breathe. That is, until he leans over Tony’s shoulder and starts kissing Bucky again, close enough that Tony can hear, can feel the huffs of breath between kisses, but can’t see, and his breath is gone again. He has three hands on his body, Bucky’s clenched around the underside of his thighs, and one of Steve’s spread flat over the arc reactor. Steve’s other is supporting his weight next to Tony’s hip as he leans forward and makes out with Bucky like it’s his sport in the goddam sex Olympics.
When Steve moans and Bucky’s fingers tighten, Tony comes - he just shatters - only held together by three hands and two chests and the brush of Bucky’s hair against his ear. He’d be in pieces, or puddled on the floor, if they weren’t here on either side of him. He slips away into a heady daze for a while, only aware of Bucky’s cock still sliding inside him and the whisper of skin all around him. Bucky’s grip tightens again and he stills, pulling Tony down onto his cock as deep as he can go as he comes.
They land in a mess. Tony’s shoulder is twisted awkwardly and his foot is shaking because his thigh doesn’t have the strength to hold him up the way it is. There’s a ridiculous shuffle and squirm while they all get settled again, and in the end, Tony finds himself the extremely happy filling in a supersoldier sandwich. They don’t make space for him - they wrap around him like they’re wrapped around each other and he happens to be in the middle - and it’s so safe and edgeless that Tony doesn’t care that he can barely move or breathe. He wants to live here forever.
Steve whispers, “I love you,” and it might be to him, or it might be to Bucky, or maybe to both of them. Tony’s happy either way. Bucky burrows his face even deeper in Tony’s hair and lets out a soft sigh. Yeah. He wants to live here forever.
And maybe he can.