Words On My Skin

Chapter 29

Author's note: sorry for the delay... a lot of life shit, you know? -Kristin

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Okay.

You could do this.

Just in and out.

This was your job, for fuck's sake.

Handshake your fear.

Fuck. Why you decided not to take the day off was beyond you. You were such a dumbass. Why did you have to be so dang responsible? You should've just taken the day off like Bucky did, and stayed in bed with him. Continued your... canoodling.

To be honest... you kind of wanted to check up on Tony.

Even though you were mad as hell at the stupid asshole for getting black out drunk and acting like a complete fuckwad... you were worried about him.

Sticking to your regular schedule, you were standing outside the lab with a coffee – albeit not a good one, because he didn't deserve a good coffee this morning – and a greasy breakfast for his hangover. Does he even get hangovers anymore? Either way, because you were mad at him, you waited until the breakfast was lukewarm to bring it to him.

The ultimate passive aggressive breakfast.

Before you could back out of it, you threw open the door to the lab – face scrunching up in distaste as you took in the destroyed state of the lab, the stale stench of alcohol, and the pungent stink of hangover sweat. Did he even fucking shower? Yuck!

You saw him before he even noticed you were in the lab. He was sitting in his chair, in front of his computer, watching a story about his parents. His father's young, handsome face flashed across the screen and you could see his shoulders tense up unconsciously.

Your shoulders sagged, and you were really irritated with how much you sympathized for the idiot, right now.

Tossing the bag on the desk next to him, you busied yourself with setting up his breakfast – watching him nearly jump out of his chair as you startled him. "Your word of the day is truculent. As in, 'your behavior was truculent, yesterday.' Take a shower. You smell like a bar floor."

Turning around quickly, you moved towards the door to the lab, wanting to be out of there as soon as possible – glad that he was not currently in a state of alcohol poisoning, but still pissed at him.

"Wait." He called out, voice hoarse and thick. You stopped in your tracks, not daring to turn around, in fear that you'd snap at him. "Can... you... uh..."

"What, Tony?" You replied harshly, turning around and crossing your arms over your chest – giving him one of your mother's signature 'I'm annoyed with you' looks.

He shrunk in his chair slightly, gulping and not meeting your gaze, "Can... you... ask Barnes.... Bucky... to... come see me? Please?"

"Why?" You raised a brow, feeling your jaw tighten in defense, "So you can shoot at him some more? Make him feel even worse than he already does?"

"I deserve that." He flinched, rubbing at his tired eyes – which were beginning to look his age – and letting out a long, tired sigh, "I'll admit... haven't been dealing with my feelings-"

"No shit."

"-but... I'd like to start by... apologizing to him." He met your gaze, finally, looking sincere and dejected, "I want to have a real conversation with him... More than just work. Feelings, and all that."