Healing Together (WinterIron)

Chapter 6

Tony wakes up in a warm, uncomfortable layer of sweat. Bucky trapped Tony's left leg with both of his and had his vibranium arm warmed to body temperature under the blanket, wrapped around his midsection. When Tony tries to dislodge himself, Buck holds on tighter. He takes a moment to feel the friction of Bucky's legs against his. Smooth vibranium slides across cotton when, the second time he tries to free himself, Bucky rolls away with a huff.

Step one: shower. Step two: Breakfast.

When Tony leaves the room, he leaves the door open, just in case. It's only a little after nine, so he figures Bucky'll be asleep a while longer. He makes quick work of his shower, not wanting Bucky to wake up alone. He pauses mid-scrub, contemplating, not for the first time this week, let alone month, how fond he's growing of his favorite cyborg. And they just slept in the same bed together.

No. It's not like that. Does Tony want it to be like that? Jesus, stop. Bucky needs him right now. But yeah, the answer is yes. In light of this mini revelation, he feels bad about saying yes to Bucky the night before. Was Tony taking advantage of Bucky? Okay. Spiraling.

Tony hums Metallica to distract himself as he beats some eggs before cutting up some fresh fruit. When the food is finished, he heads to the guest room to wake Bucky up. He looks so damn peaceful. Pink lips are parted. At some point, Bucky kicked off the blanket, winding the sheets around his legs which drape over the subtle curves of his thighs and calves and his not-so-subtle toosh, resembling robes of a goddess. Bucky must have taken his jeans off at some point in the night. Tony can see a peek of boxer briefs from under the sheet. Okay. That's enough ogling.

Xanax sleep is the absolute best, and Bucky needs a good rest, so he puts the food away. Fruit salad goes in the fridge, the scrambled eggs go onto the "keep warm" burner, and toast goes into the trash. Tony will just make more. He does some paperwork on his tablet for Pepper, so she isn't too crammed when the holiday is over.

When Bucky emerges, he looks broodier than ever. "Good morning, Sunshine. I've got breakfast on standby. You got your supersoldier appetite?" Bucky shrugs, and when Tony pivots away from him toward the kitchen, Tony's smile gets wiped off his face.

Tony quickly gets more bread into the toaster and is disappointed to find the kitchen empty. He imagines Bucky leaning against the kitchen island, smiling sleepily. When he turns to butter the warm toast as it sears his fingertips, he imagines arms, one of flesh and one not, snaking around his middle, a head bowing down to rest on his shoulder. Tony has a fleeting thought about picturing what you want out of life. He feels his face heat up and clears his throat unconsciously.

Tony brings the food on fine china into the small dining room closest to the kitchen he's deemed The Breakfast Nook. Still no sign of Bucky. Someone may as well have wrenched his heart from his chest when he finds Bucky standing in the exact spot he'd left him, looking lost. He looks at Tony with sad eyes when the smaller man finds himself under the archway. "Hey, Buck." Tony finds himself speaking not much more than a whisper, sure the sound will carry more than enough for his guest's enhanced hearing. Thinking of Bucky as a guest in his home felt wrong, too impersonal. "Come eat." Tony nods his head toward the breakfast nook and attempts a half smile. It's a thin-lipped, controlled thing.

It strikes Tony that Bucky has never been in his home. He wonders what it looks like to Bucky. The room with the small four-seated dining table has a balcony that overlooks a much grander living room than the one Bucky'd just become acquainted with. The living room's ceiling is that of the third floor and has a decently sized skylight. One of the walls is a great mirror, spanning ceiling to floor. Tony's proud of that one; it opens up the place. Bucky's hovering at the railing, staring at himself in the mirror as Tony sets the food down on the already set table.