#orbingarrow

*

The mission went tits up all of ten seconds in.

“Shit, shitshitshit,” Clint swore into the comms.  “Julia Clearwater’s here.  I gotta go before she sees me.”

“What?” Tony whispered into his comm.

“She knows who I am.  She knows what I do.  And she is not a friendly.  If she spots me talking to you, it’s game over.”

“Nat, can you cover?” Steve asked into the comm.

“Negative.  Julia knows me too.  She’s ex-SHIELD.  Bruce?”

“Right,” Bruce replied.  “Just take a few seconds to teach me how to blend into a fancy party like that and also how not to make a face when Tony’s tongue is in my mouth and--”

“Cap, you’re up,” Tony mumbled as he took a drink of his champagne.

“That’s not happening,” Natasha said.  “Steve’s way too recognizable.”

“Bucky can do it,” Steve interrupted.  “He’s shadowing tonight, so he’s already around.”

“And you were going to tell us he was shadowing when?” Tony asked.

“When anything went wrong and we needed a sniper,” Steve sighed.  “Our sniper was going to be occupied by your tongue.  Natasha knew.”

“And I agreed it was a good idea,” Natasha added.

“We’re gonna talk about this later,” Tony whispered.

“We’re out of options,” Steve said.  “So we call the mission or you give Bucky a chance.”

“What about his arm?” Bruce asked.  “That’s a pretty notable feature.  An ex-SHIELD operative might recognize it from the ghost stories.”

“He’s got it covered.  Literally,” Steve explained.  “Nat gave him a photostatic bracelet.  His hand will look human.”

“And what about a tux?” Tony asked.

“M’on it,” Bucky’s voice came in quietly through the comm.

There was a telling thud.  Tony hoped whoever’s tux Bucky was “borrowing” was asshole enough to deserve the rough treatment.

“Recognized a HYDRA operative about my size,” Bucky said with his ever-spooky calm.  “Two birds, one stone.”

“Then come on in,” Tony said.  “The sooner the better, before I change my mind.  Oh look-- it’s Hammer-- perfect-- exactly what I need.”

The last few words were spoken more to himself, though Tony knew the entire team would cringe on his behalf.  Ever since Justin Hammer weaseled his way out of prison, the man had made it his mission to interject himself into Tony’s life whenever possible.  Often in downright creepy ways. Like flirting at a party like this and possibly ruining everything.

If Bucky came in and wasn’t convincing, Hammer would be the very first to point it out.

“Don’t want to talk to you,” Tony said plainly as Justin greeted him.  “I don’t like you.  We aren’t friends.  Go away.”

“If you’d let me explain,” Justin pleaded overly loud.  To anyone nearby this was a scene waiting to happen.  Fuck.

“Not interested,” Tony insisted.  “I would rather--”

“Dr. Stark?” a pleasant voice asked, cutting Tony off before he could launch into a Green Eggs and Ham’s worth of reasons why Hammer’s false apologies were going to go unheard forever.

Tony and Justin both turned at the same time, and it was a good thing Justin’s attention was fully on the interruption because Tony’s face muscles definitely twitched and his mouth dropped open at least half an inch.

Bucky Barnes stood in front of them, looking every bit the 28 years old he’d been pre-war and smoking hot.  His suit fit him like Tom Ford had hand-stitched it with love, and the way he looked at Tony-- like a mix of hero worship and fuck-me-eyes-- was so incredibly spot on, Tony’s brain did a triple take.  From the way Justin was eye-molesting Bucky, the get-up was believable as hell.

“Dunno if you remember me,” Bucky continued easily.  “We met at Darla Bishop’s party,”  he added, the words almost electric with pleasant (fake) memories.  “Thought I’d let you get me that drink you owe me.”

Bucky looked at Tony with hungry eyes.  Like after a cocktail, getting laid was an absolute surety.

“You’d be hard to forget,” Tony said softly.

It was soft because his brain forgot how words worked there for a second, but the effect was just right.  Justin would certainly walk away with the impression that this wasn’t the first time these two had met up for a tumble.

“I missed Darla’s party,” Justin piped in.  “And Tony here should probably avoid drinking too many.  He’s got a reputation for trouble after a few, if you know what I mean.”

Justin leaned toward Bucky and tugged roughly at the front of Bucky’s suit.  

To Bucky’s credit (and a little to Tony’s disappointment) he let Justin live.

“I don’t know, actually,” Bucky said, taking a step closer to Tony and using his elbow to brush away Justin’s hand in the process.  He only had eyes for Tony as he smiled at him and added, “Tony’s never struck me as anything less than a gentleman.”

Bucky’s smile was easy and his eyes were full of mischief.  Like that was an inside joke between them. Like there were a hundred other inside jokes between them waiting to be known.

“Gentleman might be a stretch,” Tony said with a small smile of his own.  “But flattery will get you everywhere.”

“It ain’t flattery if it’s true,” Bucky said.

God his voice.  There was a hint of a Brooklyn drawl, wrapped in heat and warmth and promise.  It was like the Winter Soldier had never existed. All Tony (or anyone watching) was picking up from this encounter was Do Me vibes by the boatload.

“Tony?  A gentleman?” Justin scoffed.  “Pull my other leg while you’re at it.”

“I thought you were looking to be friends with me, Hammer,” Tony reminded Justin.

“Eh, wasn’t going to work out.  But this--” he said, pointing between himself and Bucky.  “This is much more appealing.  I can feel the heat. How much for the night?  Two? Three hundred dollars?”

Oh god. Hammer really was looking to get himself punched, and if it would not have blown the mission Tony would have been first in line.  Honestly, how important could that microfilm be, anyway?

Thankfully, Bucky had it handled.

“Buddy,” Bucky drawled, the very picture of unimpressed.  “I wouldn’t look at you twice if it won me a million dollars both times.”

“But you’ll look at this guy?” Justin asked, annoyed.  “They called him the Merchant of Death!  Do you know that or are you too young to remember?”

“I know,” Bucky said plainly.  “And I also know he’s got four more doctorates than you, a much better sense of humor, a real nice ass and he’s doin’ his part to make the world a better place every chance he gets. Comparatively, you’re a goblin.  Go away.”

Tony stood in stunned silence.  That might have been the nicest defense of himself he’d ever heard and it was made a hundred times better by the way it shut Justin right the fuck down.

“Your loss,” Justin sneered, before he stormed away.

“Marry me,” Tony insisted, as he turned to Bucky.  “We’ll go to Vegas right now.  Just say the word.”

It was all part of the act, obviously, but Tony still enjoyed the way it caught Bucky by surprise and caused him to smile.  A real, genuine smile.  The few nosy people within hearing distance smiled, too.

“What would you do if I said yes?” Bucky asked.

“Call the airport.  Have them fuel up my jet.”

“You’re somethin’ else, Tony Stark,” Bucky said, before biting at his bottom lip appealingly.  Like he was playfully considering the offer.  “M’not one of those guys who buys somethin’ before he tries it out and we didn’t have enough time to get acquainted last time we met.  Think we should fix that before you propose.”

“There are rooms upstairs,” Tony suggested, dragging his brain back to the mission at hand since Bucky seemed to be doing fine keeping his eyes on the prize.  “If you wanted to catch up somewhere a little more intimate.”

“Intimate is good,” Bucky agreed.

He closed the space between them, took the champagne flute out of Tony’s hand and finished what was left, letting his tongue flick over the rim to catch the last drop of alcohol.  Tony’s brain flooded him with unhelpful imagery about all the things that tongue could do.

Not helpful.  

They needed to be seen together a little longer.  Not everyone who would notice Tony missing had caught sight of him yet in the first place.  But they would.  Bucky was definitely a head-turner.

“How about one more drink first?” Tony asked.  “Then we head up?”

“I’m all yours,” Bucky agreed.  “Lead the way.”

Tony put a hand on the small of Bucky’s back to guide him, and forced himself to ignore the growing warmth in his chest when he did.  It was probably just the alcohol.  He didn’t drink much anymore.  Easy explanation.

“It was Nolan, right?” Tony asked conversationally, after he’d ordered them each a champagne.  “Like the famous pitcher?”

That was Clint’s cover story and since Clint was on the invite list, it made sense to assume Bucky had the same plan.  

“Nolan, yeah.  My dad was a big fan of baseball,” Bucky confirmed.  “I got a brother named Ryan and everything.”

Tony smiled.  “You ever play?”

“In High School.  Probably coulda played for a small college but all I ever wanted to do was go to NYU and then be a sports writer.  No other dream would do.”

After the bartender handed over their drinks, Bucky angled in toward Tony, leaning against the counter to effectively cut them off from interruption.  It was incredible to watch him work.  There was just something about the way Bucky carried himself.  Something about the light in his eyes. Cap was not wrong.  Bucky Barnes was criminally good at flirting.

The only problem (and it wasn’t much of a problem) was that they’d drawn enough attention that people were hovering closer.  Any talk at all would have to be in character.  Easy enough, really, or it would have been if Bucky’s presence wasn’t so damn distracting.  Tony’s thoughts all seemed to lag a second or two behind the rest of him.  

“How’s that working out for you?” Tony asked.  “That dream?”

“M’here, ain’t I?” Bucky asked.  “Still looking for my big break, though.  In New York, it’s all about who you know.”

“You know me.”

Bucky turned a little more and leaned in fully against Tony.  He looked down at him with an expression of open invitation.  “Not really.  But I’d like to.”  

“I can finish this fast,” Tony said, draining the last of the champagne.

“Already done with mine,” Bucky said more quietly.  He tipped his head forward slightly as Tony sat his glass on the counter.

It took absolutely no thinking for Tony to lean in and kiss him.  

That kiss with Clint earlier?  That had been a mission kiss: convincing without a stir of feeling.  This kiss?  It was a kiss worthy of romantic acts of stupidity.  It was a kiss that would have launched a thousand ships. Tony would have bought ESPN the very next morning and given it to Fake!Nolan for keepsies if that kiss had been real.

“Upstairs,” Tony growled.

By then, no one was going to doubt they were walking up to one of the bedrooms to fuck.  If nothing else, Tony’s erection broadcast that for anyone who was looking closely enough to see. (Next time Barnes flirted on a mission, Tony was going to ditch the tight pants.)

They found the bedroom they needed, and it was incredibly surreal to walk in behind Bucky, close the door, then turn around to come face to face with the Winter Soldier.  Surreal enough that Tony took a quick step backwards.

Barnes was still gorgeous.  That hadn’t changed.  But his expression was somewhere between resting murder face and mission report and all the warmth was gone.

“Hey there, Killer,” Tony greeted.  “Fancy meeting you here.”

If there was disappointment in his voice, it wasn’t intentional.  It just was.  And if Tony thought he saw a flicker of hurt pass through Bucky’s eyes, that was likely all in his imagination.

“Where’s the microfilm?” Bucky asked.

“Hill said it’s hidden in a false panel in the desk,” Natasha chimed in through the comm.

For the second time in two minutes, Tony jumped.  He had completely forgotten the team could hear everything through their communicators.  

Bucky moved to the desk and opened the top drawer while Tony sat down on the bed and watched him work. It took Bucky less than a minute to locate the secret latch and remove the microfilm.

“What now?” Bucky asked.

“We’ve got to stay in here for a while,” Tony said.  “Long enough that it’s believable we were up here enjoying ourselves.”

“So that should take what, exactly?” Clint asked through the comms.  His grin was audible.  “Thirty?  Forty seconds?”

The oomph he made a second later was incredibly satisfying.

“Who’s in there defending my honor?” Tony asked.

“My elbow slipped,” Bruce insisted.  “Not much room to work in this van.”

“That was totally on purpose,” Clint whined.

“Would I do that?” Bruce asked.

“Muting the comms so Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum here aren’t a distraction,” Natasha chimed in.  “We’ll only unmute if we have something relevant to say.  You do the same.”  

“Good work, you two,” Steve added.  “Get out safe.”

“Copy,” Bucky said.

The line went silent.  As silent as the room.

“You can sit on the bed,” Tony said, to fill the quiet.  “I don’t bite.  Not unless you ask me nicely.”

“No one can see us,” Bucky said simply.  “You don’t have to keep up the act.”

“What act?” Tony asked.  He really was coming up blank.  He’d been himself all evening.  It was Bucky who had been winning the Oscar down there.

“Actin’ like you don’t mind me bein’ here,” Bucky said.  And well, the good news was that Bucky wasn’t in automaton mode any longer.  The bad news was his voice was laced with buried hurt.  Where in the hell did that come from?

“I don’t mind you being here,” Tony said quickly.  He paused.  Considered.  Spoke gently.  “And-- just for the record-- I don’t mind that you took over for Clint.  I’m grateful.  We’ve got the microfilm, the mission went off without a hitch, and Hammer saw me walk upstairs with the best-looking guy at the party.  This is a win/win/win.”

“You told the team I lurk behind potted plants.”

“Because you do lurk behind potted plants,” Tony pointed out carefully.

“I linger; I don’t lurk. I know the difference.”

“Ummm… apparently I don’t?” Tony asked.  “Feel free to explain.  Believe it or not, I wasn’t trying to be a dick about the… not lurking.  It hadn’t occurred to me there were subtleties involved.”

God, though. Whether Tony’d meant it or not, replaying that team conversation in his head was painful.  He’d talked about Bucky like he was a thing… not a person.  And if Bucky’d heard, well, that sucked.  It got worse as Bucky continued.

“I don’t like people lookin’ at me,” he said softly. “S’never worked out well.  Not in the war and definitely not with HYDRA.  Always meant I was in some kind of trouble.  Pain was comin’ my way.  Or something’ worse than pain.”

“That wasn’t--” Tony tried to explain.  

“You act like it makes me broken,” Bucky cut him off.  “That there’s somethin’ wrong with me cause I’m not ready to be out in the open and there’s not.  M’not broken.  I’m workin’ through a lot.”

Bucky shut his mouth and looked away.  Tony had never been so relieved to be off comms.  If he fucked up this conversation royally, he didn’t need the whole team listening to him crash and burn.

He watched Bucky for a few seconds.  Did some mental recalibration.  Channeled Rhodey circa 1987. (Tony’s college peers had not been kind.) (Except for Rhodey, who’d taught him what friendship could mean.) (And Tony could pay that forward.  He could.)

“Will you look at me?” Tony asked gently.  “Please?”

Bucky turned his head grudgingly.

“I’m sorry,” Tony said simply and sincerely.  “That was beyond shitty of me.  I don’t think you’re broken.  I think you’re amazing.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky grumbled.  

“Geezus, what you did down there?” Tony continued.  “That was incredible.  What you do every day to move forward and get on in the world... that’s incredible, too.  I should have tried harder to make you feel comfortable in the tower, and from now on I will-- if you’ll let me.  We can be friends.  I dunno.  Hang out, or something.  I’ve seen you eyeing Dum-E and U.  I’ll introduce you, if you want.  They’re pretty cool.  Way cooler than Steve.”

Bucky considered Tony’s words.  “I’d like that.”

Tony nods.  “I’d like that, too.”

*

Turned out, Bucky was awesome company.  Sure, he faded into the shadows a lot and occasionally he stared at Tony with his Resting Murder Face and that was a little unnerving, and every once in a while JARVIS would report that Bucky had done something paranoid like check all the light fixtures in the tower for HYDRA listening devices.  All in all, that was small potatoes compared to the fun they had together otherwise.

They shared a love for science and technology, greasy pizza and yelling at the television during bad sci-fi movies.  Most nights when Tony and Bruce were in the lab, Bucky’d join them and sit quietly off to the side, taking apart a toaster or reading up on motorcycle repair.

It was a comfortable friendship, and one Tony valued a lot.  Which was why, when his thoughts turned a little more toward the romantic side of friendship, he tried to squelch them immediately.  Bucky had never given any indication he was interested and Tony didn’t want to push.  But he never could quite shake the memory of that kiss, and the dwelling on it always left him wanting more.  Sure there was a lot he could lose, but oh the things he could gain.

The very best things.

Yeah.  

Cold showers were Tony’s new best friend.

*

It was a month or two later when a new easy-peasy mission came in that would involve Tony and a date.  No one batted an eyelash when Bucky volunteered.  He could even keep his previous Nolan identity since many of the people from the party before would be attending the new mission party as well.

Tony RSVP’d with Nolan as his date.

They’d just snuck off down a side corridor to get to the room they needed for their mission (under the guise of wandering off to find a less public place to grope each other) when they heard footsteps coming up behind them.  Heavy footsteps.  The sort you’d expect from goons with guns.

“Shit,” Tony swore.

“Security cameras show you’ve got incoming,” Steve said over the comm.

“No facial recognition available,” Natasha added.  “May just be hired help.”

“Only confront if necessary,” Steve reminded them.

“That’d be your cue to start sucking face, guys,” Clint chimed in.

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice.  

“You good?” he asked Tony.

“So good,” Tony said honestly.

Bucky had Tony shoved against a wall with their mouths together before another second passed.

Tony’s brain went blank.  Bucky was flush against him, warm and protective. The kiss was everything Tony had imagined over and over and over in the weak moments when he’d let himself dwell on their previous kiss.

Bucky’s hand wandered up Tony’s side and grasped at his suit jacket and Tony heard himself make a plaintive, needy noise he was totally going to deny later.  There was just something about the way Bucky kissed him. Something that was familiar and head spinning and perfect.

Tony wasn’t content to stay passive, and he let his hands wander over Bucky’s back and then down his biceps and there was the metal arm, and yup-- that did all kinds of things to short circuit Tony’s thoughts and what even was that kink called?  Because he had it.  He so had it.

Time stood still.  Everything but Bucky faded into the background.  

“Uh, team?” Steve asked.  “The coast is clear.  Has been for like five minutes.”

Tony dragged himself out of the kiss and leaned his head back against the wall.  “Shit.  Right.  Mission.”  He tried to word-make again with the addition of some verbs.  “Heading that way now.”

Bucky pulled back and away, but not before placing one last kiss to Tony’s forehead.

“To be continued back at the tower?” Bucky asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

“To be continued,” Tony agreed breathlessly.  “Yes.  Absolutely.  You are really good at that.”

“Can’t wait to take my time with you,” Bucky said. “Been wanting to try that again since the first night.”

“God, me too,” Tony said enthusiastically.  “I just didn’t want to--”

“Keep it off the comms,” Steve groaned.  “I’m gonna need brain bleach as it is.”

“Yes, sir, Captain, sir,” Bucky quipped.  “But I make no promises once we’re back at the tower.  Probably oughtta bunk with Nat for the night if you don’t want to hear us across the hall.”

Tony laughed.  They all knew just how much soundproofing had gone into the tower bedrooms, which made it all the more funny.

“I hate you both,” Steve said.

“Not as much as you’ll hate us after tonight,” Tony taunted.  And then because he could he leaned in for one more kiss.

“We heard that,” Clint complained, then oomphed.  There was a clatter, like people all moving around in the van at once.  Then laughter.  “Ouch-- hey!  No pinching!  No fair!”

“Accident,” Natasha said.  “Muting comms.  You boys behave.  Hail us if you need us.”

“Copy,” Bucky said.

The line went silent.

“You really want to pick back up once we’re home?” Tony asked.

He thought he knew the answer but he still needed to have Bucky confirm. Needed to know it wasn’t all some big misunderstanding that was going to end in heartache.

“Haven’t thought of much else for a long time now,” Bucky admitted.  “What I said to Hammer that first night-- that wasn’t Nolan talkin’, that was me.  Even back when I was hidin’ in the plants, I wanted to know you.  Wanted some of your spark for myself. Never met anyone who gives off so much light,”

Tony looked at Bucky in wonder.  It didn’t feel true but Tony knew with confidence Bucky wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t.  He didn’t do things he didn’t want anymore.

“I don’t know what to say that to that,” Tony replied quietly.

“You don’t have to say a thing,” Bucky assured him.  “We’ve got all the time in the world to figure it out.  For now let’s finish this mission so we can get back to the tower and find somethin’ better to do with our time. I’m tired of waitin’. Ready to get started.”