#post conflicts

@akira-of-the-twilight​

Bucky stopped dead in his tracks the moment they entered the tiny house. Tony glanced up. “I know it’s not the Grand Hotel, but it can’t be that bad.”

It was the first day of their vacation and they just entered Tony’s summer house for the first time after an exhausting greeting from the local major. (Who was really thrilled to see the Avengers spending their free time there, et cetera, et cetera. The Avengers would have been more grateful if they had been left alone, but their kinda-sorta celebrity status didn’t allow mercies like that, and the locals (mostly elderly couples) were really keen to meet them, so they endured the fuss.) 

After the nervous comment Steve’s hands tightened around Tony’s waist, while Clint was looking at Bucky’s face, observing the slightly open mouth and the glossy light in his eyes. “I think he’s impressed, dumbass”, Clint reported as if Bucky wasn’t even present.

“You are so paranoid, babe.” Steve kissed Tony’s cheek and led him inside, going around Bucky (who still remained at the same spot), while checking the projectile of Bucky’s sight. He stared into one of the rooms, but that door was only half-open and Steve couldn’t see anything extraordinary from his angle.

“You can kiss my ass”, Tony grumbled. (“I’m planning to do exactly that”, Clint interjected cheerfully.) “You were the ones who whined three days in a row when I said we’ll use my houses during our vacation.”

“Well, you have to admit you have quite an extravagant taste in… interior decoration”, Steve phrased as diplomatically as he could. “First time you introduced me to my apartment in the Tower, there was a giant mural on the living room wall about Captain America.”

“It was inspired by the one in the Smithsonian. It was really patriotic”, Tony defended himself, as always.

“It was creepy as hell.” It seemed nothing could break Clint’s good mood.

“Kinda like stuff from nightmares”, Steve agreed.

“Fuck you, it was a piece of art.” Tony scowled. “And the phrase you’re looking for is ‘Tony, this villa is beautiful, you are working with excellent designers’, by the way.” He shrugged. “To be honest I’ve never even been to this place before. Or, if I have, I was too drunk at the time to remember it. Speaking of, who wants a drink?” Tony freed himself from Steve’s embrace and marched directly to the minibar. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, snap out of it, I have excellent vodka straight from Mother Russia for you.”

“Tony…” Steve warned with a sigh, but the owner just waved his hand dismissively.

“I know, I know, I’m on rehab.”

“We agreed your staff will clean all destinations from any kind of alcohol, so you won’t have to face temptation.”

“No, Captain Mother Hen, you said this, and I didn’t answer anything. It’s kind of our first vacation together, it wouldn’t be fair if you couldn’t drink anything because of me. You can supervise me all the time, I won’t relapse. Maybe you’ll even let me have a wine with you. Just one. Or I’ll stick with fucking disgusting mineral water.”

Steve sighed again, but nodded after a bit of thought. Tony was better at abstinence if he had a little concession than if he was expected to quit it all in one go. Little steps made everything easier, the supersoldier learned that already. “Okay, that will work. But strictly only one glass!”

“Fine.” Even though Tony hated restrictions, he beamed happily at the thought of shared wine. His hands didn’t shake as he poured a martini for Clint and a vodka for Bucky. The archer grabbed his glass, while Tony walked to Bucky with the drink.

“You with us, Grumpy Cat?”

Finally, Bucky tore his eyes off from whatever he spotted, grabbed the vodka and drank it in one quick go. Then he looked at Tony. “Why do you have a piano?”

After the uncomprehending glances from everyone, Bucky marched to the door he stared at and fully opened it up. The room wasn’t a bedroom as Steve assumed earlier: the only furniture inside was a grand piano and some comfortable armchairs around it.

Tony swallowed hard. “Ah, that.” He looked down, then back to the others. “My mom played it.”

Everyone froze and the atmosphere became awkward. Yes, Tony forgave Bucky for the murder since he was not the one responsible for it. Tony was over it, really. Sometimes he was upset, but figured his issues out about it with help and didn’t hold a grudge against his loved one. But it remained a sensitive topic for Bucky and the ex-assassin sometimes spiraled down self-hatred and guilt because of it.

Steve stepped closer carefully, his eyes soft and his voice gentle. “Bucky used to play it back in our days, too, right?”

Tony’s smile was sad, and his throat thick, but he wasn’t angry. Not anymore. “I think… I’m sure Mom would appreciate it if my boyfriend could play something for us on her instrument.”

Clint put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “What do you think?”

Bucky was staring at the floor. “I think it’s… not a good idea.”

“I’d like to hear it.” Tony’s voice was neutral, but he reached for Bucky to cup his face in his hands. “Play something for Mom’s memory, darling.”

“I… haven’t played since before the war. I don’t remember… I’d suck.”

Steve hugged them all and he gave a kiss to each of them. “No problem, Buck, you’ll figure it out. Play for us. Please.”

Maybe the please did the trick. Bucky swallowed hard and nodded.

*

Bucky didn’t lie: he really played awful at first. His body changed so much that muscle memory didn’t help him at all, his fingers didn’t find the keys, and he was so nervous that he couldn’t really pay proper attention to the sheet music either.

But the others didn’t show any sign of impatience, they cheered at every attempt and encouraged him to do more, try again, try another one, not give up, and Bucky started to gain a bit of confidence.

By midnight, he was able to play a song without any mistake, and after he finished it his smile was so radiating and proud as it must have been before the war.