Traitor

Chapter 16

"You're killing me, Barnes."
Tony couldn't stop his voice from coming out as a petulant whine. Bucky's lips formed into a soft smirk.

"S'not my fault you have the worst poker face." Tony scoffed halfheartedly as he pushed his chair back, putting distance between himself and the game table, decidedly done.

Bucky had managed to beat him in every board game known to man, at first Tony's competitive nature compelled him to keep attempting. As the games progressed though, he grew worn down. He groaned exaggeratedly and slouched back into his chair, much to Bucky's amusement.

They both allowed silence to fall over them, relaxing back into their chairs and enjoying the warmth that cascaded down into the balcony.

The past few days had been bittersweet.
All he had really needed to come to accept the situation he was in was a person who cared enough to help guide him through it. Bucky definitely softened the blow of it all and made sure to keep him out of his head throughout the day. His consideration and complete selflessness were strange but welcome. The feeling of validation after many conflicting months was so incredibly gratifying.

Tony would most likely never know why Steve had changed so much or why their relationship had taken such a tumultuous turn— and he was okay with that. For the first time in a long time, he realized the only thing that was left for him to do was walk away. It had taken a long time to accept that he couldn't keep their relationship afloat by sheer willpower alone, especially when Steve was the only person he'd ever envisioned a future with. He'd move on though.

Steve wouldn't control him or his life any longer, he was a person with desires and inhibitions that would not be squashed by the likes of him.

That train of thought led him to the question that had been consuming his mind lately. He'd wanted to ask Bucky about it but felt it was better to let things settle for a bit before broaching the topic a second time.

"James?" He managed, treading the subject slowly. Bucky hummed in question, smiling at him and squinting at the brilliant sunlight. Bucky looked ethereal like this— the sun blinding behind him, cheeks rosy as he smiled that damned smile.

"When.. the other day.." Tony cleared his throat, reorganizing his thoughts. "The other day in the lab, you said something about Steve." He finished lamely; voice having grown far too coarse to continue. Bucky nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I think I mentioned the bastard once or twice." Tony snorted, grateful for the ice breaker. "You said Steve told you I was scared of you." He held his breath.

"We've talked about this, Tony." Bucky deflected easily. "It doesn't matter what he told me, I know you're not—" But Tony wasn't listening anymore.

"So, it was him." He whispered, sitting back in his chair. Bucky paused, confused, when suddenly it dawned on him. "I never told you it was Steve." He sighed.

Tony remained silent, stuck in the mess that was his mind. "It ain't nice to trick an old man, Tony." He didn't respond.

Bucky allowed him time to process the new information. He looked down at his lemonade that was rapidly growing lukewarm, twirling the straw absentmindedly. He hadn't wanted Tony to know Steve had lied to him and led him to believe Tony resented him. Namely because he wasn't sure if he was ready to face the implications of it. In the end, it all led back to him and his stupid suffocating feelings for the man across from him.

Finally, Tony spoke again.  "Why would he tell you that?" He looked at Bucky, eyes almost accusatory. "I don't know." Bucky muttered and shrugged. "Maybe he really did think you were scared." Tony frowned, straightening in his seat.