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“Tell me to stay.”
Tony hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It had just slipped out. He’d been thinking it so hard, somehow the words had left his mouth before he’d been able to stop them.
Bucky lifted up onto one elbow, searching Tony’s face. “What?”
Tony considered telling Bucky to forget it, but he couldn’t bring himself to take it back. “Tell me to stay,” he repeated slowly, his voice softer this time. He stared fixedly up at the ceiling, the blanket covering his crossed arms. “I could do it, you know. Everything I do for the Avengers isn’t location specific. I could be remote. Disappear off the grid.”
He’d thought about it more than once. He and Bucky had been hiding their relationship from the press and from their friends, and Tony wouldn’t have changed any of it. The emotional connection, the sex, the way that Bucky understood him and leveled him out - it was all perfect, except that keeping something so important a secret was exhausting. They had to meet at safe locations, which meant that more often than not they ended up at hotels with intense privacy policies where Tony paid in cash and used a fake name. There was no way to go outside, not where one of them might be recognized. And all of that was hard enough without the added complexity of the Accords. Bucky was still a fugitive, and Tony had an image to maintain. It wouldn’t have just looked bad for the two of them to be seen together; it would have gotten Bucky arrested. It could’ve gotten Tony arrested, too.
Of course, disappearing wasn’t the answer. Tony knew that. He had responsibilities he couldn’t just set aside. He was still an important part of Stark Industries. He was the public face of the Avengers, or what was left of them. He was rewriting the Accords, and he couldn’t very well petition the Security Council from an undisclosed location, even with T’Challa’s help. There was no way Tony could make ‘off the grid’ work. But god, sometimes he wished he could.
Bucky frowned. “People would wonder where you are.”
Tony turned his head, finally meeting Bucky’s eyes. He knew Bucky was right. There were a thousand reasons not to let people wonder and worry about him. Tony didn’t need that kind of publicity on top of everything else. But that didn’t stop him from pushing the idea further. “So what? I’m the elusive, impulsive billionaire, remember? I could do it. If you wanted me to.”
That was the sticking point, wasn’t it? If Bucky wanted him to. He would’ve done anything Bucky asked, or at least, everything short of abduction and murder, and even those probably would’ve been negotiable, depending on the circumstances. The problem was that Bucky never asked for anything, which made it damn hard for Tony to know what Bucky really wanted. Did Bucky want him to stay? Was Bucky still okay with their arrangement? Bucky wouldn’t say, and Tony was too afraid to ask outright.
“Where’s this comin’ from?”
“I don’t know.” Tony sighed, curling toward Bucky until Bucky took the hint and laid down, letting Tony rest his head on Bucky’s bare chest. “I just don’t like being apart.”
“And I don’t like sneakin’ around.”
“I know.” Tony did know. He understood. He knew it disappointed Bucky, not being able to tell their friends. Not being able to be normal. Bucky hadn’t been able to be himself for so long, and now Tony was contributing to the problem. Damn it.
Fighting his feelings of defeat, Tony sat up, trying to distract himself by taking stock of the room. The pillows were still strewn at the foot of the bed, and their clothes had been left carelessly in piles around them. Shirts and shoes at the door, pants by the desk, boxers on either side of the bed. They’d been in a hurry, that much was obvious. Their meetings were always like this. Hot and heavy, like they would never have enough time. They never did. And they never would, not while they were keeping things secret.
“Tony.”
The bed shifted, and then Tony felt Bucky’s chest pressing into his back, lips moving against his shoulder. Tony leaned into the touch.
“I love you,” Bucky murmured. “I know that doesn’t fix everythin’, but… Just wanna make sure you don’t forget.”
“I love you too.” Tony closed his eyes, reaching his hand back to slide his fingers into Bucky’s hair. “I’m sorry we have to do things this way.”
“Don’t have to, you know. We could tell people.” That was the closest Bucky would ever get to asking to go public. He would skirt the problem, but never address it head on.
“You’d get in trouble,” Tony said, tilting his head to the side when he felt Bucky’s teeth gently scraping his skin. “I’d get in trouble.”
“We could tell Steve. Rhodey. Safe people, the ones we trust.”
“Maybe.” Tony’s voice trembled on the word as Bucky’s mouth descended on his shoulder, sucking hard. “Ah. Let me think about it.”
“Alright.” Bucky resumed his work on what Tony was sure would be a dark purple bruise, the kind that took weeks to disappear. Tony groaned, his body stirring in interest as Bucky laved the mark with his tongue, then kissed it before sliding out of the bed and walking slowly toward the counter.
“What’re you doing?” Tony was so distracted by Bucky’s naked body that he nearly missed the answer to the question.
“Makin’ coffee,” Bucky said, turning on the in-room Keurig as he spoke. “Don’t tell me you don’t want coffee.”
Now that was a tempting offer. Tony always wanted coffee. It sounded incredible. But right now, Tony was interested in something else. “What I want is for you to come back to bed.”
“Hmm.” Bucky closed the Keurig and placed a cup underneath the dispenser, then turned around, giving Tony a frankly spectacular view as he walked back toward the bed. “Guess I can do that.”
~
Tony sighed, fighting the urge to drop his head into his hands.
This was exactly what he’d been afraid of. He pored over the report again, willing it to tell him something different. Of course, it wouldn’t, no matter how much he wanted it to. The evidence was there. His surveillance system was state of the art. Someone was following him - maybe multiple someones, depending on who was hiring them - and he had the pictures to prove it. That meant he needed to be a lot more careful, not just about what he did and where he went, but about who he spent his time with.
This was going to take time with Bucky off the table.
“You’re sure about all this, FRIDAY?” Tony asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yes. I’m sorry, Boss.”
“Right. Well, keep trying to find out who it is. Might be nice to know who’s hiring these idiots.”
“Of course, Boss.”
Tony closed out of the report, lowering himself defeatedly into his chair and spinning in a slow circle, his chin resting on his clasped hands. Before he could think any further through the implications of what this meant, beyond not seeing Bucky anymore, he felt his phone buzzing. Hell. Was it that time of day already? Tony fished his phone out of his pocket, looking at Bucky’s image on the lock-screen.
Shit.
Tony set his phone down on the table and tapped the answer key, sliding the call up to the holo-display.
“Heya, doll,”
“Hey, babe.” Tony sighed internally. There was no point in waiting to break the news. He had to tell Bucky now. “Listen - I can’t meet tomorrow.”
For a split second, Bucky looked crestfallen. “How come? Last minute meeting?”
“No.” Tony sunk lower, wishing he could melt into the back of his chair. “People have been keeping tabs on me lately. I’m being followed.”
Bucky’s expression grew dark. “They tryin’ to hurt you?”
“If they plan to, they haven’t tried yet.” Tony shook his head. “I think they’re just gathering intel. Not sure who’s paying them to follow me, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to jeopardize you. It’s safer if we press pause on the in-person meetings for a while.”
Bucky just stared at him, not responding. Was Bucky really going to make Tony do all the talking here? It was hard enough knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to hold Bucky or kiss Bucky for who knew how long. Did Tony have to carry the whole conversation, too?
“I know it’s not what you want to hear,” Tony tried. “It’s not… I don’t know what else we can do.”
“I understand,” Bucky said finally. “Ain’t ideal-”
“No, it really isn’t.”
“But it’s just for a while, right? It’ll be hard, but we can do it. ’Specially if it means you can get the Accords done sooner.”
Tony couldn’t help but smile a little. Who would have believed that Bucky Barnes was the optimist in this relationship?
“Since we’re talkin’ business,” Bucky continued. “T’Challa wrote to me. Told me there was a place for me in Wakanda, if I wanted it. Said Shuri might be able to work with me on the HYDRA mess.” He fixed Tony with a look. “Did you have anythin’ to do with that?”
“No. His idea. I just gave him access to your secure line.”
He could tell Bucky wanted to say something about that, something like ‘I thought givin’ out our information wasn’t safe.’ Instead, Bucky asked, “D’you think I should do it?”
Tony didn’t want to influence Bucky one way or the other. It was Bucky’s decision. He tried to sound noncommittal. “It’s up to you. Wakanda is probably better than a hole in the wall in Budapest.”
“Alright,” Bucky said, as if he’d already made up his mind. “So. No more gettin’ together. For how long, exactly?”
Tony winced. “A few months?”
Bucky blew out a breath, and Tony watched his eyes close as if he was in physical pain. “Well. I guess if we both have somethin’ to distract ourselves…” Bucky couldn’t even finish the sentence.
Tony swallowed against the tightness in his throat. “We’ll talk over the phone. We can video chat. And we can text, if you’re ready to get onboard with that.”
“Ain’t any good at it, but I can try.”
That was all Tony could ask for. And maybe that would mean a few more messages in a day. A little more contact. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. But it was something.
“I love you,” Tony said, hating the way it sounded like goodbye.
“I love you too,” Bucky replied.
Tony blew a kiss into the camera and ended the call. He breathed in slowly through his nose, fighting the panic that was rising in his chest. Months. It would be months before he saw Bucky again. He tucked his phone back into his pocket with trembling hands.
Shit.
~
Tony had to force himself not to pace as the Quinjet began its descent into Wakanda.
He couldn’t sit still. He drummed his hands on the arm of the chair, tapping his heel quickly on the floor. He shouldn’t have been this nervous. He’d been to Wakanda before.
Oh please. It’s not Wakanda you’re worried about.
Briefly, he closed his eyes, trying to slow his breathing. It was true, he wasn’t anxious about being back in Wakanda, though he did hope T’Challa would approve of his revisions to the Accords. Tony was anxious about seeing Bucky again.
Four months. It had only been four months, he reminded himself, since they’d seen each other in person. Only. Ha. Four months had felt like years. And even though Wakanda was arguably the technological capital of the world, Bucky had been largely unreachable. Off the grid ninety percent of the time, with infrequent phone calls and video chats that had hardly offered any relief.
“FRIDAY, how much longer?” he asked. The anticipation was killing him.
“Just ten minutes, Boss.”
“Great.” Giving up on self control, Tony stood, walking in a slow, repetitive circuit. His mind had abandoned the Accords entirely, and now it was spinning in circles in time with his steps, wondering how he might react when he and Bucky were finally reunited. Probably not well. In situations like this, Tony had a tendency to pretend not to care, which wouldn’t go over great with Bucky, even if Bucky had always been understanding of Tony’s penchant for avoiding all emotions altogether.
It didn’t do him any good to wonder, did it? He’d see Bucky soon enough, and then he’d know for sure how his overcaffeinated, sleep-deprived, affection starved body would respond to seeing the love of his life - shit, he probably needed to tell Bucky that, didn’t he? - in person for the first time in months.
Finally the Quinjet landed, and Tony steeled himself, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder and sliding on his sunglasses before strolling casually down the ramp.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Stark.” T’Challa held out a hand as Tony approached.
Tony shook it, peering over the top of his sunglasses long enough to say, “So since you’re King of Wakanda now, is it more polite to bow?”
T’Challa’s eyes sparkled in amusement. “That is a formality I do not require. Besides, I would never expect a man as strong-willed as yourself to bow, even to a king.”
Was that a compliment, or an insult? Maybe a little of both. Tony shrugged with open arms. “Hey. Stranger things have happened.”
Tony followed T’Challa into what would’ve been called a palace, if it hadn’t looked so much like something out of the Star Wars universe. They passed through an enormous entrance hall, then up a marble - or was it granite? - staircase into one of many private conference rooms.
The conference room was too big for two people, but Tony appreciated the space. The floor to ceiling windows allowed the afternoon sun to filter in, reflecting off of the city’s many metal buildings. Were all of those made of vibranium? They must’ve been, given the way the structures seemed to defy the laws of physics. Fascinating. How much would the rest of the world benefit from the kind of resources that Wakanda had access to?
“Mr. Stark?”
Tony snapped to attention, not missing T’Challa’s raised eyebrows. He rubbed his lips, breathing out. “Sorry,” he said. “Just - tired. Long trip.” He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a binder, setting it down on the main conference table and pushing it toward T’Challa with two fingers. “It’s all in there, ready to go.”
T’Challa drew the binder the rest of the way toward him, but didn’t open it.
“You’re not even going to look at it?” Tony asked. “What if I wrote a bunch of gibberish in there?”
T’Challa laughed. “I read your revisions thoroughly. I trust you have not made any changes since the latest version you sent on your secure channel.”
“Trust. Me?” Tony quirked an eyebrow. “You should know better than that.” He squared his shoulders, returning his gaze briefly to the window. “No. I didn’t make any changes. But I’d appreciate it if you took one more look before we push it forward.”
As if to humor him, T’Challa opened the binder and flipped through it, skimming a few pages before closing it again. “You’re sure you won’t bring this to the Security Council yourself?” T’Challa asked.
Tony shook his head. “Soon as they see my name on it, they’ll think I have an agenda.”
“Do you not?” A small curve of T’Challa’s lips was the only indication that the comment wasn’t meant to cut.
“Everyone has an agenda.” Tony shrugged. “But they won’t assume that your agenda,” he pointed at T’Challa for effect, “is a bad one. You signed the Accords in the first place. And you’ve been spearheading humanitarian efforts on a global scale.” He smiled to himself. “Read that one in the Times, so. If it’s between you and me, I pick you. Your press is much better than mine these days.”
“An unfortunate truth.” T’Challa set the binder back down on the table with an air of finality. “I agree that I am better positioned, at the moment, to take these to the Security Council. And I am more than happy to petition the interests of the Avengers, since they are my interests as well.”
“Thank you.” Tony shook T’Challa’s hand again, this time with real gratitude. This was the last step. As soon as the new Accords were ratified and signed, the Avengers could come home. Bucky could come home. They wouldn’t have to hide anymore.
“If we’re finished here,” T’Challa said, gesturing toward the door, “my sister would like to speak with you.”
Tony turned just in time to see Shuri’s head appear in the doorway. “Hello, Mr. Stark.”
“Uh.” Tony held up one hand and waved lamely. “Hi.”
“I heard a rumor that you’re interested in Wakandan technology. Would you like to see some?”
Tony didn’t need to think twice about that. He’d been dying to get his hands on Wakandan tech since his last visit. “Yeah. That’d be great.”
“Wonderful,” Shuri said, looking delighted at the prospect.
~
“I thought you were going to show me your tech,” Tony said skeptically as they entered a long hallway with windows on one side. This wasn’t what Tony had had in mind. He’d been imagining playing with all of Shuri’s new inventions, not touring what looked a lot like a testing facility.
“This is our tech, Mr. Stark. It is not the tech used by the Black Panther, but it is important nonetheless, particularly to you.”
“How is that?”
“This is the technology we used to treat Mr. Barnes.”
Oh. Well. That was interesting, wasn’t it? Tony peered through the glass, his eyes catching on the enclosed pool in the center. “Is that a sensory deprivation tank?”
“Yes. We found that too many stimuli altered the results. The technology worked best when the senses were deprived and the patient was allowed to focus.”
The patient. Tony winced. He imagined Bucky floating in that pool, trapped in soundless darkness. Bucky was a stronger man than Tony, or else knew how to withstand much greater stress. Being closed off from reality like that would’ve given Tony a panic attack.
“The treatment has worked well,” Shuri continued, leading him further down the hall. “We have incorporated meditation as a tool for calm. We have also used the technology you see in this room to rewrite memories and neural pathways through active dreaming. It is, in essence, what you were trying to accomplish. But… sleeker. More effective.”
Tony rubbed the back of his neck. “I admit that BARF wasn’t the most effective model.”
“It was close,” Shuri said as they reached the end of the hall, though it sounded more like ‘better luck next time.’ “He is doing well, your White Wolf. We gave him a new arm.”
Tony spluttered. “What?” Why hadn’t Bucky told him that? Then, when his brain had caught up, “And he’s not my White Wolf.”
“Of course not.” Shuri smiled, then pulled up a holographic image of what must have been Bucky’s new arm. “It is much more advanced than the previous version. Better material, stronger and more flexible, with more features. There’s more sensory feedback for him, too. If you ask nicely, perhaps he’ll show you.”
Tony decided to ignore that innuendo. “Speaking of Bucky,” he said, as casually as he could muster. “Do you know where he is?”
“He’s outside meditating. In the meantime, you are welcome to peruse the lab downstairs.” She closed down the holographic image and opened the hall door, leaning against as she said, “I’ll send Mr. Barnes your way as soon as he’s finished his practice for the day.”
Before Tony had time to respond, Shuri had disappeared, the door clicking closed behind her.
Well. Shuri had told him he could peruse. And if no one was supervising the toys…
Tony jogged down the first set of stairs toward the bright white table displaying - how many pieces of tech were there? Eight? Nine? Half of them he could guess what they were, but the other, he had no idea.
That’s why we experiment.
It wasn’t difficult to guess the intended function of the first few items on the table. A vibranium knife, set to change thickness and length depending on the preset parameters. Tony had toggled through the first few settings without noticing a difference, then on the fourth the knife had shifted into a spear. Tony had gotten the idea after that. Then there had been the gauntlets, designed to create a forcefield around the wearer. Tony absolutely had not tried them on and used the forcefield to move objects in the lab.
The Black Panther suit had been fairly obvious, too, and Tony had assumed there was more to it than protective coating and a gold necklace. He inspected the suit from all sides, then flicked the center of the chest with one finger. Its surface erupted in ripples of purple, making Tony take a cautious step back. His eyes narrowed. He touched the suit in the same place again and felt the force returned to his finger in a small but powerful sting. “Huh. Nanites.” Shuri wasn’t the only one using nanotech. Tony had used it on the last three variations of the Iron man suit. But storing the absorbed energy to be used against enemies in battle - that was smart. And something Tony hadn’t thought of.
“Interesting,” he murmured, tracing the seams of the suit before moving down the line to the next item on display. It looked like a run-of-the-mill beaded bracelet. He picked it up and examined it, slipping it onto his wrist. He rolled one bead between his fingers, surprised to find that it separated easily from the others, though the bracelet still retained its shape. He held the bead up to the light, then cradled it in his palm before returning it to its place on the bracelet. “Alright. Each bead is different, I see that. And you connect together magnetically. But what do you do?”
“They’re called Kimoyo beads,” came Bucky’s voice from behind him.
Tony nearly jumped out of his skin. “Jesus Christ,” he gasped, a hand over his chest where the arc-reactor used to sit. He didn’t know why he was surprised. Silent sneaking was one of Bucky’s specialties. “When the hell did you get here?”
“Few minutes ago.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I like watchin’ you experiment with the tech.” Bucky emerged slowly from the shadows, then leaned against the stark white wall. His expression was carefully composed, but Tony thought he could see a smile peeking through from underneath that calm exterior. “Sorry I scared you, sweetheart.”
Tony’s knees went weak. Sweetheart. Even over the phone, Bucky rarely used that word, and hearing it in person was so much better than hearing it through the Starkphone’s filter. “Only scared me a little.” He paused, looking Bucky up and down, resisting a strong urge to reach out and take Bucky’s hand. “Kimoyo beads?” he asked, sliding the bracelet off and setting it down on the table.
“They have healing properties. And they do a whole lotta things I don’t know about yet. Shuri could prob’ly explain it better.”
Tony made a mental note to ask Shuri about them later. “Um. Bucky - is there a reason Shuri knows about us?” Then, for clarification, “She does know, right?”
“She’s been inside my head,” Bucky replied, taking a few steps toward him. The closeness stole Tony’s breath. “That’s how the treatment works. Couldn’t exactly hide it. I’m sorry, doll.” Bucky searched his face, metal fingers coming up to trace the hair just above Tony’s ear. “Okay if I kiss you?
Yes, Tony’s body screamed. “Cameras,” was all he managed. He knew T’Challa wouldn’t use the footage against them, but he didn’t like the idea of it existing at all.
“Asked Shuri to disable ’em.”
“She listens to you?”
Bucky smiled. “When I ask nicely.”
Tony nodded as if that made all the sense in the world, then licked his lips reflexively in anticipation. “Yeah. You can kiss me. If you want.”
Bucky held Tony’s gaze as he said, “That ain’t ever a question.”
If Tony could have melted the second Bucky’s lips met his, he was sure he would have. His molecules must’ve been dangerously unbalanced; he could practically feel them vibrating, heat and adrenaline racing through his veins, a sweet moment of tension seizing his muscles before everything relaxed and he leaned forward, surrendering his weight into Bucky’s strong embrace. Bucky’s tongue traced his lips, then slid into his mouth, and oh, that taste was so familiar and so good. There was nothing else like it in the world. Tony got lost in the sensation, fingers clutching blindly at Bucky’s shirt, and he must’ve made some kind of sound, because Bucky growled, redoubling his efforts. Tongue, teeth, lips, all three worked together to make Tony pliant, to make him want. And god, he wanted Bucky so badly. It was all he could think until Bucky finally pulled away. Want and need and Bucky.
The sudden return of oxygen made Tony a little dizzy - or maybe Bucky’s kiss had done that? “Hmm,” Tony hummed, taking a few deep breaths before opening his eyes. “You are really good at that, you know.”
Bucky rested his forehead gently against Tony’s. “You’re gettin’ so good at pretending’, thought maybe you’d forgotten. Not just about me bein’ good at kissing. About… all of it. Me. Us.”
How the hell could I forget? Tony thought. Memories of everything Bucky were burned into his mind, a bright light on the back of his eyelids that never disappeared. Everywhere he went, Bucky’s presence lingered, so much so that Tony imagined he saw Bucky hiding in the shadows even when he knew the Winter Soldier was half a world away.
“Not a chance,” Tony said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He stared into Bucky’s blue eyes; they were like steel, hard and unrelenting. He had forgotten just how much it took to match that intensity. “Just… I’m so used to being without you now. I guess having you here doesn’t quite feel - I don’t know. Real.”
“I’m real as anythin’, doll, I promise.” To prove his point, Bucky cupped Tony’s cheek with his palm, the new vibranium cool on Tony’s skin. What would it take to warm it, Tony wondered? Now there was a thought. Tony tilted his head into the touch. A soft smile played on Bucky’s lips, and if that wasn’t a sight for sore eyes, Tony didn’t know what was. “Been dreamin’ about you since we left that hotel in New York.”
Tony lifted his chin, leaning his head back against the wall. “Good dreams, I hope?”
“Mostly. A few nightmares.”
Tony knew what those nightmares looked like. He’d seen them in BARF, back when he’d hoped his own invention might be the answer to untangling the knots HYDRA had tied in Bucky’s brain. Tony’s brow creased. “I’m sorry. I wish I had been here.” Tony knew how to bring Bucky down after a bad dream; he didn’t like the thought of Bucky dealing with those dreams alone. “Aside from the nightmares, are you alright?”
Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I’m alright. Missed you.” He dropped a soft kiss on the corner of Tony’s mouth, then traced the line of Tony’s cheekbone with his nose. “What about you?”
“Erm.” Tony chewed on his lip, biting down on the truthful reply. ‘Well, actually, I’ve been sort of a wreck. Not sleeping, forgetting to eat, obsessed with getting these Accords buttoned up so you can come home. That sort of thing.’ That wasn’t the right thing to say, not when Tony knew Bucky worried about him too much already. “Things have been… um.” He opted for flat out avoidance, saying, “I got the Accords draft done.”
Bucky’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “That doesn’t answer my question, doll.”
“I’m good. I’m fine.” The casual, automatic response fell from his lips before he remembered who he was talking to. He could make almost anyone fall for his ‘I’m fine’ routine, but ever since he and Bucky had started sleeping together, Bucky had become immune. “I’m - I just - ugh.” He sighed in frustration, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s hard to sleep without you. Everything’s on fire and you’re not there, and I don’t know how to handle it.” He could hear the self-derision in his own voice. “It just figures. Your head is all clear and now mine’s a mess.”
“Ain’t a mess.” Bucky carded his metal hand through Tony’s hair, making Tony shiver. “Just need to quit workin’ so hard. And thikin’ so hard.”
Tony laughed softly. “You’re not wrong.” He’d had no end of time to himself back at the compound. Time to think; time to worry and second guess; time to wonder if Bucky would change his mind about everything. That one wasn’t a rational fear, but it was one he hadn’t been able to shake. What if, after his time in Wakanda, Bucky didn’t want to be with Tony anymore?
“Hey,” Bucky said, snapping Tony out of those thoughts as if he’d somehow seen them spinning inside Tony’s mind. “C’mere.” Bucky pulled Tony forward, wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist.
Tony resisted at first - he was fine, he didn’t need… but oh god , he did. He needed Bucky like he needed air to breathe. His hands fisted into the fabric of Bucky’s shirt, and he buried his face in Bucky’s chest. “Missed you,” he managed, finding it was much easier to say without actually looking at Bucky. His eyes were already stinging, and was he really going to cry? That went beyond pathetic. He clenched his jaw and breathed in deep, letting Bucky’s scent overwhelm his senses. Stupid, how easy it was to calm down with Bucky surrounding him like this. There really was no substitute for physical closeness. “Four months is too long,” Tony mumbled into Bucky’s chest.
“I ain’t arguin’,” Bucky said, his lips brushing the top of Tony’s head.
Tony drew back just far enough to turn his face up toward Bucky, seeking Bucky’s lips with his own. Bucky kissed him back, body solid and eager against him, open hands reaching around rest on Tony’s back. It was everything Tony needed, safe and warm and familiar. Of course, it only took a few seconds for safe to flash hot. Bucky’s hands slid down to cup Tony’s ass, and when Tony gasped, Bucky’s tongue dove into Tony’s open mouth, sweeping and searching, claiming and marking. Tony whimpered as Bucky backed him into the wall, pressing their hips together. Tony rocked forward into the motion, one hand moving to frame Bucky’s face, the other tugging at the collar of Bucky’s shirt. Bucky pushed closer, mouth sealed against Tony’s, and finally their tongues slid together, making heat coil in the pit of Tony’s stomach. Tony reached up and gripped hard at the roots of Bucky’s hair, and Bucky moaned, sucking hard on Tony’s lower lip before pulling away.
Tony leaned back, breathless. “Shit.” He blinked a few times, shaking his head to clear the haze. It hardly helped. He felt feverish, his skin burning, the heat crawling up his neck and between his legs. He’d forgotten, like an idiot, how quickly things escalated when he and Bucky shared the same physical space. It was no small miracle that he still had his clothes on. “We never were good at doing this in the right place, huh?”
“Bedroom ain’t far,” Bucky said, the darkness in his eyes drawing Tony further in.
Tony tried not to seem too eager as he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, alright. You lead the way.”
~
“So. This is your room?” Tony asked as Bucky closed the door behind them. It was bigger than Tony had imagined. He’d never considered that T’Challa might give Bucky one of the most luxurious guest suites, usually reserved for ambassadors and dignitaries. He made a mental note to thank T’Challa for treating Bucky like an honored guest.
“Has been for the past few months,” Bucky replied. “Too big for me, but it’s comfortable. Got everything we need, too.”
Tony wondered just how far ‘everything’ went. Did Wakanda’s technological advances translate to the bedroom? Had Bucky gotten his hands on tech that would make things truly interesting? Not that Tony wanted to start off hot and heavy, but he had to admit, the idea intrigued him.
“Bed’s up that way,” Bucky said, gesturing to the stairs and the loft beyond them. Tony looked up, then returned his gaze to Bucky, who was staring at him with such intensity he almost looked away. “Tony.”
Tony didn’t know what to say. There was no response that would ever be adequate, not when Bucky said his name like that. He stood up on the balls of his feet to press a kiss to Bucky’s lips; Bucky responded by dropping slow, languid kisses on Tony’s jaw, moving down over Tony’s throat. Bucky’s lips on his sensitive skin made Tony gasp, a soundless ‘oh’ that he repeated again and again.
“You’re still wearin’ your messenger bag,” Bucky said against his collarbone.
“Forgot to take it off,” Tony explained lamely, shifting to allow Bucky to lift the strap over his head. The bag dropped to the floor, and Bucky set to sliding Tony’s suit jacket off of his shoulders, then unbuttoned the white dress shirt in record time. Tony’s tie, already too loose, slid over his head with relative ease, and then Tony was half naked, his torso entirely exposed. He reached down to take off his watch, only to find that Bucky was already sliding it down over his wrist, depositing it gently onto the pile of clothing beside them.
They took turns after that, Bucky unbuttoning his own pants, Tony peeling off Bucky’s boxers, until all of their clothes lay in the growing pile on the floor and Bucky’s skin was flush against Tony’s. Yes. This was what Tony needed. Contact. Connection. He’d jerked off enough times with Bucky, and plenty of times without, but nothing compared to this, to being together.
“New arm,” Tony breathed, reaching out to touch the vibranium plating. “Want to feel it.”
“Like this?” Bucky asked, tracing the head of Tony’s cock with vibranium fingers.
“Oh shit.” Tony’s whole body trembled, and he nodded. “Yes. Like that.”
“Or like this?” Bucky’s hand moved further down, gently cupping Tony’s balls.
Tony closed his eyes. That was a sensation unlike anything else. The vibranium was strong and sturdy, that much he knew, but it felt smooth. Smooth and warm. “Hmm,” he hummed.
“Or… like this?” Bucky’s finger pressed against Tony’s hole, and Tony choked out a groan, whining when the vibranium digit pushed into him, inch by slow inch.
“Oh my god, Bucky. That’s - ah.” There weren’t any words, at least, not any that Tony could articulate once Bucky’s finger found his prostate.
“That good, doll?”
“Yes. Yeah. So good.”
Bucky knew exactly what Tony liked, and exactly how to keep Tony on the edge. Just when it was becoming too much, Bucky withdrew his finger, asking, “How about this?” He moved his hand down to circle their cocks, sliding his smooth vibranium palm over both of them. Tony’s hips bucked up reflexively, and he grabbed onto Bucky’s arms, nodding in agreement.
“Fuck yes. Keep doing that. Oh. Please don’t stop.”
Bucky set up a slow pace, the vibranium smooth enough not to chafe as it slid down their cocks, then back up, Bucky’s wrist twisting on the upstroke. Shit, that felt good. Tony pumped his hips in time with Bucky’s hand, and fuck, that was going to get him close all by itself. Just looking at that dark vibranium against his skin, holding his hard cock, would’ve been enough to set him off.
“Oughta take this upstairs,” Bucky murmured, and oh god, that meant Bucky was going to stop.
“You know what I think?” Tony drew Bucky down for a needy kiss. “I think beds are overrated.”
“Yeah?” Bucky took the hint, walking Tony backward until he was up against the wall, his hand moving faster over them. “This how you want it? Right here?”
“Yes,” Tony all but begged. “Right here. Just like this.”
“Fuck,” Bucky groaned, closing his eyes and arching his hips before releasing his grip on the both of them. “Need lube.”
Tony nodded, waiting expectantly while Bucky rustled through the desk drawer. The cap to a bottle clicked open, and Bucky poured a generous amount of lube onto his flesh hand, sliding it over his own cock, then over Tony’s. Tony hissed in approval, thrusting up into Bucky’s hand when Bucky didn’t let go right away.
“Alright, doll. Turn around for me.”
Tony did as he was told without hesitation, spreading his legs to brace himself. Bucky’s fingers curled over Tony’s hips, pulling him backward, and Tony groaned, dropping his forehead against the wall. Bucky’s cock slid between Tony’s cheeks, and then that vibranium hand was sliding hard and fast over Tony’s cock, matching Bucky’s thrusts as he fucked into the cleft of Tony’s ass, brushing past Tony’s hole with every thrust. Tony didn’t know whether to arch back or press forward, and he tried to split the difference with his own abortive thrusts, pushing back into Bucky’s cock, lifting forward into Bucky’s hand. It took almost no time at all for Tony to feel the pressure building, aching need turning desperate.
“Bucky - I’m so close, I-”
“C’mon, doll,” Bucky said, his breath hot in Tony’s ear. “Come for me.”
“Nngh.” Tony groaned, screwing his eyes shut. He was right there, right there, so fucking close, he just needed - yes. Bucky’s hand moved faster, and Tony gasped, tumbling over the edge. “Fuck - Bucky-” His orgasm ripped through him, and he came hard, spilling over Bucky’s hand. He felt Bucky shudder behind him, and Bucky pressed him into the wall, come spilling onto Tony’s back and down between his legs. Fuck. Oh fuck.
When Tony’s brain finally reconnected with his body, he lifted his arms just enough to brace himself against the wall, his traitorous knees threatening to buckle underneath him. “Shit,” Tony gasped, clenching his fists.
“You alright?” Bucky asked. The question wasn’t just a courtesy. Bucky had taken things too far a few times before, Super Soldier stamina being what it was. This was his way of making sure Tony was okay without turning it into a big deal.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m… I’m great.”
Bucky’s hands roamed open palmed over Tony’s chest and abdomen, and Tony hummed his approval at the touch. “Good,” Bucky said. “Fuck, doll. I… you’re incredible.”
“I could say the same thing about you.” Tony finally managed to push off from the wall enough to turn around. “I think maybe we made a mess,” he said, a little apologetic.
“Don’t care,” Bucky replied. He kissed Tony, a few quick pecks that turned into something heated and deep. “Come up to bed with me?”
It was incredible, how quickly Bucky was ready for another round. Tony would never be able to keep up. Then again, Tony didn’t mind, either. Bucky’s unbelievable stamina made their marathon sex that much easier.
“Only if you carry me,” Tony said, his eyes full of mischief.
~
“So,” Bucky said, reaching across the rumpled covers to take Tony’s hand. “When are you leavin’?”
“I can stay here a few more days.” Tony squeezed Bucky’s metal fingers, then raised them to his lips to kiss vibranium fingertips. “In fact… I can stay here until T’Challa takes those documents to the Security Council.”
Bucky frowned, looking suddenly cautious and hopeful. “You sure?”
“Positive,” Tony said, rolling onto his stomach and throwing an arm over Bucky’s chest. “After that, we won’t have to hide anymore. I’ll write to all the papers myself. Send pictures of us holding hands and kissing. That’ll get the word out.”
“Could just pose for the paparazzi instead,” Bucky offered.
“You’re right,” Tony said, grinning at the brilliance of it. “That’s even better. One big public display of affection, and that’s it. Our job is done.”
“And then?”
Tony pressed closer, shifting until he was straddling Bucky’s hips. He watched Bucky’s eyes darken, then rested his palms on Bucky’s shoulders, thumbs stroking Bucky’s collarbone. “Then,” he said, rolling his hips just once, “we get to do whatever we want. Whenever we want.” He rolled his hips again, biting his lip. He could tell exactly what Bucky was thinking. ‘Damn tease.’
“Whatever we want, huh?” Bucky’s hands found Tony’s hips and held tight. “Well. I can think of somethin’ I want.”
“Oh?”
“How about you roll over and I’ll show you?”
Tony nodded in enthusiastic agreement. “Yes, okay, yeah. Let’s do that.”
~