Disclaimer: I own nothing or make money from the comics, movies or other media for this franchise.
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AN: I get inspired by the strangest of things..
"If he had spoken, love would return
Spoken inside, too soft to be heard
Summers and winters, through snowy Decembers
Sat by the water, remembering embers
Missing out the lives that they once had before"
"Willow" - Jasmine Thompson
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Mid-december found the former Winter Soldier sleeveless, barefoot and alone on the landing pad of Stark Tower—once more renamed after the new Avengers facility became operational. Fat snowflakes drifted lazily down peppering his hair and clothing in a fine layer. Fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, his uneven breaths visible in the frigid night air. He was alone.
Unknown to him the only other tower inhabitant awake at the hour watched from inside.
Tony fidgeted, foot to foot, with a spare coat clutched delicately in his left hand. It was going on to the negatives that night and Bucky had been out there for some time. Tony would know, he had been monitoring him since F.R.I.D.A.Y alerted him to the underdressed super-soldier. Bucky would probably be fine even if he managed to get hypothermia or frostbite but that did not mean he had to. Still, Tony hesitated to interrupt. He knew all too well the sort of thoughts or memories that could force one to seek the solitude of the weather. That was part of the reason Bucky was at the tower and not with the team. He needed a quieter place to sort himself out, while still being safe. Steve had brought him there.
"Stark men are made of steel." With a soft exhale Tony ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y to open the separating glass doors and not let Steve up there until further notice. He meant well but even he could be overbearing in his quiet, sad eyed way.
Bucky tensed at the first sound of Tony's ratty tennis shoes on the fresh snow. Head cocked to the side just enough to mark him as listening to every movement, every breath Tony made.
"Here," he boldly draped the jacket over Bucky's shoulders as he came to stand at his side.
"Not gonna help much without shoes," Bucky said even as he pulled the jacket close after a particularly strong gust blew snow in their faces.
"No one ever said you weren't a work in progress." That earned Tony a snort followed with a crooked smile that was mostly hidden by tangled strands of hair. Even like that, shivering, stubborn and snow drenched, Bucky was handsome.
And much more than Tony deserved. He filed that thought away where it would never see the light of day.
"I think I remember an old recipe for hot chocolate. Has espresso in it."
Tony heard the uncertainty, confusion and perhaps a hint of longing. Though the latter had to be for someone who expected nothing of the pre-hydra man he'd been. "Well as long as you don't add motor oil everything will be fine," Tony quipped.
The expression he received was bordering curiously horrified.
"I never showed you my bots? They are smart, well smarter than anything you will have seen but not quite enough not to accidentally poison me. Never drink anything they give you. Come on, make those drinks for us and i'll bring you to the workshop." Tony motioned to the doors behind them, lit up warm and inviting.
"Yeah. Alright." Bucky shrugged and allowed Tony to lead them inside.
While it might have only been curiosity or boredom that spurred him into following, Tony was grateful for the chance to help.
Hot chocolate, as it turned out, was a great conversational starter.
