winterfalcon sex worker au (or wtv this is)
Two weeks with no text from Steve. Bucky can go longer without a text from Steve obviously, but after the fact that he just poured his heart out in a drunk call he's sure Steve answered? Yeah, he doesn't know what to do with that at all.
He placed his phone back on the nightstand and plugged in the charger. He's been on the edge about it because its not something he can just play it off as stupid words that didn't mean anything. It did mean something and that's scarier than Bucky would like to admit.
Steve has been *something* to his life, a constant. Someone who's always treated him well, up to the point that the line between friendship and something more blurred so hard he didn't know when he took the damn misstep. Now he's fucking waiting for a text that doesn't seem like coming anyway. He really shouldn't have done tequila shots.
Yes, go ahead and blame the alcohol for your heart's stupid words.
He slowly got up, body heavier than how he expected it to be as he lugged himself to the kitchen, hoping Natasha was nice enough to give her some leftovers. The metal arm feeling much more heavier than normal, which would mean it needs a tune up in Stark's little lab, which would mean he's gonna have to get past Steve's desk on the way there.
He should've just went for the tune up last month instead of waiting for today.
Should've, should've, should've. What an absolutely dumbass you are.
Bucky rubbed a hand on his face in frustration, forcing his arm to move better but the stupid arm doesn't seem to be listening to him, which meant he can't pass up on the tune up today. For fucks sake how unlucky can he get in one day?
He kept his head down. A cap on his head, jacket on, and leather gloves to hide his metal hand because its one thing to be walking around looking like he's gonna rob someone, and another thing when someone screams when they see his metal arm.
Worse case, some kid would ask him if he's real.
God, he doesn't even know if he is.
He slowly pushed the lobby door open, the security guard giving him a visitor's ID since they've seen him around at least once a month. Its not like he caused trouble in Stark Industries, excluding that one time he accidentally crushed a doorknob but Tony told him it happens. Which is stupid because who the hell accidentally crushes a doorknob other than him??
He cautiously slid into the elevator, making sure to stick to the wall to not inconvenience anybody or make them uncomfortable.
“What floor?” the woman near the buttons asked him kindly.
"Top floor, Tony's office." he answered gruffly, looking away. He hasn't talked the whole day, his voice felt unused. The woman nodded, a look passed her face but she pushed the button for the top floor. He chose to ignore it.
As soon as the woman stepped out on her floor, he managed to breathe a sigh of relief, waiting for the elevator to go up to Tony's floor. The moment the elevator opened, guns were pointed at him.
"Uh, what the fuck?" he immediately puts his hands up in panic. What the hell is happening?
Tony who's behind four bodyguards sighed in relief as soon as he saw Bucky standing in the elevator. "Jesus, its just you."
"Of course its just me, what the fuck is up with the guns?" Bucky almost yells.
"We got a tip just minutes ago that someone in the elevator was out to get me." Tony explained, the guards going at ease the moment Tony pats them and walks up to Bucky.
"You have JARVIS to warn you with that," Bucky answered in annoyance, realizing the look the woman earlier gave him. Apparently he looks untrusted now.
"I can't do this right now. I need a damn tune up, please and thank you?" Bucky answered as he massaged his temples.
"You're gonna have to wait, princess. you just gave us a company level threat and i have to stop anyone planning to make a report on it." Tony shrugged letting the guards disappear around the floor. "texting is a thing, cyborg. how about you learn it."
oh right texting. he forgot about that. he's been so wrapped up on waiting for steve to text him that he forgot a phone has other shit he can use, like *texting tony he's coming around*
"okay, cool. fine. whatever." he answers. "I'll just sit in your office."
"not planning to hang around capsicle today?" tony asks as they walked through the floor, the way to his office would have to pass Steve's office which he think he doesn't have the heart to do yet.
"nah" he answers shortly, steeling himself from craning his neck to find that signature blonde hair in the sea of office stalls. "not feeling up for it."
"that's new." tony hummed thoughtfully and opened his door for bucky. "i got an espresso machine if you want some coffee for you dark soul and a chair by the window if you wanna start brooding. make yourself at home."
Bucky gave him a look before sitting on the plush couch.
"...or not." tony mutters before closing the door, leaving bucky out of his depth and stopping himself from peeking outside the office.
he stands up and goes to the espresso machine and started brewing himself something to keep the jitters and the weird kind of want from creeping in. he's always been good with his hands.
well, hand. considering that the metal one refuses to move.
tony still hasn't come around by the time he was done so he decided what would hurt if he decided to come out of the office. maybe say hi to people he know, he might even see pepper if she's around.
so yeah, do not scare people. hold on to the mug. a deep breath before walking out of Tony's office.
The moment he opened the door, his line of sight immediately fell in Steve's face on the other side of the floor by the break room, talking a smaller guy who has this adorable twinkle in his eyes as he looked up to Steve.
He turned around and went back inside. Sitting on the plush couch so rigidly that if someone kicked him, his spine might crack. That's how Tony found him, eyes far away, holding a currently cold mug of coffee.
Tony, never one to miss an opportunity for commentary, leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. "Jesus, Barnes. You look like you just got hit by a truck. And not in the fun, ‘wow, that was a great night kind of way.’"
Bucky didn't react, just kept staring at some invisible point across the room, fingers wrapped so tightly around the mug that Tony was starting to wonder if ceramic could shatter from pure emotional turmoil.
Tony sighed, walking over and plucking the cup from Bucky’s hands. "First of all, I'm offended you let my gourmet espresso go cold. Second—” he squinted, “—did you actually just walk out there, take one look at Rogers, and immediately retreat?"
Bucky finally blinked, jaw tight. "It wasn’t just him."
Tony raised an eyebrow, the pieces clicking into place. "Ah. So there was a twinkly-eyed addition to the Capsicle show today."
Bucky inhaled sharply through his nose. "I don’t wanna talk about it."
"Oh, that’s definitely why you’re sitting like you’ve been personally wronged by the universe," Tony said, walking back to his desk. "Alright, broody. You wanna keep stewing in here, or do you wanna finally let me fix your damn arm before you get so tense you explode?"
Bucky was silent for a long moment, then finally muttered, "Fix the arm."
"Good choice. Also, next time, if you're gonna have a dramatic breakdown in my office, at least pretend to drink the coffee. I have standards."
"Who was the kid he's talking to?" Bucky asked quietly, finger scratching his jeans.
"Jealous?" Tony asked as he led him to the desk and making him sit on it. "Its his intern, Warren something something. I'm not good at names."
Bucky huffed, rolling his eyes. "You're a goddamn genius, and you can't remember a name?"
"I'm a billionaire genius, Barnes. I don’t have to remember names," Tony shot back, already pulling up the schematics for Bucky's arm. "That’s what assistants are for."
Bucky flexed his hand instinctively as Tony started running diagnostics, metal joints whining in protest. "So. This intern."
Tony smirked, tightening a bolt just a little harder than necessary, making Bucky grunt. "Still asking, huh?"
Bucky scowled. "Just making conversation."
"Uh-huh. Sure. Conversation. Not at all seething because Steve has an intern with a face that apparently twinkles at him," Tony drawled, fiddling with a wire. "Look, man, the kid’s harmless. He gets Steve coffee, prints out whatever Captain Morality needs, probably worships the ground he walks on." He paused, then grinned. "Actually, you two might have a lot in common."
Bucky gritted his teeth. "I'm leaving."
Tony yanked a wire, forcing Bucky to stay still as his arm jerked. "No, you’re not. Sit there and suffer like the emotionally repressed nightmare you are."
"Don't you dare jerk off my arm, Stark." Bucky threatened. "I'm going to throw my cat at your face."
Tony gasped dramatically, hand clutching his chest. “Not Alpine! You wouldn’t!”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Try me.”
Tony huffed, muttering something about disrespectful war criminals under his breath as he went back to fine-tuning the arm. “You know, this is exactly why Steve hasn’t texted you back. You’re emotionally constipated and make threats involving innocent felines.”
Bucky tensed but covered it up with a scoff. “Oh yeah? And what’s your excuse for people not texting you back?”
Tony smirked. “I ghost them first. Elite move. You should try it.”
Bucky gave him a look. “I did try it. Steve still hasn’t texted me back.”
Tony paused, raising an eyebrow. “Huh. Maybe he’s ghosting you.”
Bucky glared. “Fix my damn arm before I really do throw Alpine at you.”
a few minutes later, he quietly asks. "you think he ghosted me?"
Tony glanced at him, the usual snark flickering in his eyes before softening—just a little. "Nah," he said, tightening something in Bucky's arm with a careful precision that almost made Bucky feel human instead of a machine. "Steve's a lot of things, but he ain't the ghosting type."
Bucky exhaled through his nose, looking away. "Then why hasn’t he texted back?"
Tony sighed, putting down his tools and leaning against the desk. "Because he doesn’t know what to say. You caught him off guard, man. You dropped some heavy feelings on him. Cap’s probably pacing around his apartment, staring at his phone like it personally betrayed him."
Bucky ran his tongue over his teeth, mulling it over. "So, what? I just wait?"
Tony shrugged. "Either that or be a normal human being and text him first."
Bucky scowled. "I was normal."
Tony snorted. "You were a drunk mess and told your best friend you’re in love with him. That was normal?"
"I hate it here." Bucky groaned, tipping his head back against the chair before he perked up again. "how'd you even know what i told Steve?"
Tony gave him a flat look. "Barnes," he said slowly, like Bucky was especially dense. "I’m Tony Stark."
Bucky just blinked. "And?"
Tony sighed dramatically, spinning a wrench between his fingers. "And I have eyes, ears, and an advanced AI that picks up all the interesting gossip in a five-mile radius." He smirked. "Plus, Steve called me."
Tony raised a brow. "Yeah, buddy. Your blonde-haired, blue-eyed American Dream called me at—what was it? Oh, right—" He checked his watch just to be a little shit about it. "Two in the goddamn morning—because he didn’t know what the hell to do with what you said."
Bucky stared at him, stomach twisting. "And what did you tell him?"
Tony grinned. "To grow a pair and text you back."
Bucky groaned again, dropping his head into his hands. "I’m gonna throw myself into traffic."
Tony patted his shoulder. "You better not. I just fixed your arm."*
"I don't want to talk to him about it, if he wants to abandon me then okay sure, whatever." bucky mumbled
Tony rolled his eyes so hard Bucky was surprised they didn’t fall out of his head.
"Jesus, you’re dramatic." He tightened the last bolt on Bucky’s arm with a sharp click. "You and Steve need to stop acting like star-crossed lovers in a soap opera and just—" He made an explosive gesture with his hands. "Communicate."
Bucky scoffed. "Easy for you to say." He flexed his fingers, testing the arm. "Not everyone is a goddamn genius billionaire playboy philanthropist with a stupidly perfect relationship."
Tony smirked. "Flattered, but let’s focus on you, Romeo. What’s your next move?"
Bucky huffed, leaning back. "I don’t have a next move, Stark. If he wants to ghost me, fine. I’ll survive."
"Oh yeah, I can see that," Tony said dryly, gesturing at Bucky’s entire slumped-over, existential-crisis-ridden posture. "Real picture of emotional stability you got going on here."
"I wanna forget i even did that in the first place, care to quit it?" bucky rolled his eyes.
Tony snorted. "Oh, you wanna forget? Perfect. I got just the thing for you, bud."
Bucky gave him a wary look. "...I don’t like the way you said that."
"Relax," Tony waved a hand, standing up and grabbing his phone. "What’s the best way to get over a dramatic, unrequited, might-just-be-mutual-but-you’re-both-too-stupid love confession?"
"Wrong. Distraction." Tony smirked as he scrolled. "And lucky for you, I know people."*
Bucky groaned, dropping his head back. "If you’re about to suggest what I think you’re suggesting, I swear to God—"
"Oh, come on." Tony leaned against the desk, wiggling his phone. "One night. No strings. No awkward history. Just a little fun to clear your head."*
Bucky frowned, shifting uncomfortably. "I dunno, man..."
Tony sighed. "Listen, what’s the worst that could happen? You have a nice time? You stop looking like a kicked puppy?" He raised an eyebrow. "Or are you scared you won’t be able to get it up for anyone that’s not Steve?"
Bucky immediately threw a wrench at him.
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