Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.
Challenges listed at the bottom.
Word Count: 2088
Pairing: TonyBucky
Magic Touch
Tony flew through the air as fast as he dared, racing against the snowstorm which was getting worse by the second. He'd already given up hope of getting home, but at least if he could find Barnes, the soldier wouldn't be on his own.
He knew how much Barnes struggled when he was alone, Steve hadn't been shy about confiding in Tony.
Not that Tony minded. He knew how hard it had been on Steve to watch Barnes struggle. Tony didn't mind being there for his friend as much as he was able.
Steve had wanted to come with Tony, but there'd been no way the Quinjet would handle the weather. Tony's suit was being bounced and buffered in the air as it was.
"On your left, Sir," JARVIS said in his ear. "One hundred and thirty metres."
Tony lowered himself incrementally, breathing a sigh of relief when he realised Barnes must have made it to the cabin at least. Still not perfect, but better than being stuck out in the snow, for sure.
Tony landed and crunched the few steps to the door, opening it cautiously.
He wasn't surprised to find himself face to face with a gun from his own design, and he waited for Barnes to lower it before he closed the door behind him.
Flipping the faceplate up, he offered the soldier a small smile. "Brutal out there, isn't it? You doing okay, Frosty?"
Barnes nodded slightly, and Tony felt an urge to pull his uniform mask away from his face, to make sure that the man was, in fact, okay, but he didn't. Instead, he stepped out of the suit, leaving it standing sentry by the door.
"Unfortunately, I can't fly us out of here until the storm blows out," he said, rubbing his hands together. The cabin wasn't particularly cold—thank the heavens for fireplaces, which Barnes had already started a small fire in—but Tony struggled to keep his hands still on his best day.
"Why?" Barnes asked, brow furrowing.
Tony snorted. "I don't want to turn you back into an icicle, Frostbite. Cap would have my hide."
Barnes pursed his lips but nodded, looking over Tony's shoulder at the window, where the storm showed no signs of stopping. If anything, it was only intensifying.
Tony glanced behind himself for a second and then rolled his eyes. He didn't need to watch the storm, it would only accelerate his anxiety. Instead, he stepped around Barnes to check the cabin out.
He'd only been there once before, and that was years ago. It was one of numerous SHIELD safehouses, and Tony couldn't help but be grateful for their paranoia in sending Barnes on missions with easy access to help if he needed them.
There was a small— fully stocked— kitchen, a bedroom and an adjoining bathroom, and then the living room where he'd left his suit. Opening a small door in the bedroom, he found a cupboard filled with blankets and a shelf full of first aid supplies and snorted.
Bloody spies.
…
"We're snowed in."
Tony looked up from the book he'd been flicking through to see Barnes still standing by the window. He'd been there for hours, and beyond a few brief sentences, neither of them had spoken since Tony's arrival.
"I figured we would be," Tony replied. "It's fine, Barnes. The beautiful thing about snow is that it melts."
"We're sitting ducks."
"Quack quack."
"This is serious."
Tony rolled his eyes. "There's nothing to be done about it. Even Hydra wouldn't come looking for us in this mess, and even if they do, I have an arsenal of weapons in the suit, and you're handy to have around in a fight. We'll be fine."
Barnes huffed, but he eventually nodded, leaving his post at the window to stock up the fire. Tony watched him surreptitiously. He wondered if Barnes was anxious because of the cold; Steve hated winter, and the temperature Tony had to keep the tower at to keep him comfortable on some nights was enough to have the rest of them wandering around in shorts and t-shirts.
"You doing okay?" he asked softly, when Barnes was done with the fire. He pulled his mask off, throwing it on the table, and shrugged.
He looked impossibly young, and so… lost.
It made Tony's heart pang for him, and he cursed himself for his lack of being able to comfort people. It wasn't that he didn't want too; he just didn't know how.
He'd always dressed up his own issues with jokes and whisky, after all, and he'd only very rarely allowed anyone to comfort him, so he was lacking the data needed to deal with this.
Barnes sat down on the second sofa, his back stiff, clearly still on full alert and Tony sighed.
He wasn't qualified for this.
…
As night fell, Tony forced himself to his feet and into the kitchen, checking the cupboards as he tried to decide what to eat. He knew he'd have to make a lot of it; Bucky's appetite rivaled Steve and Thor, and Tony wasn't shy about eating when he was hungry.
Deciding that breakfast for dinner was always a good plan, he set to pulling down the ingredients for waffles and pancakes. There were also plenty of eggs, and a large pack of bacon in the freezer, so they were good to go.
He whistled to himself as he cooked, cheerful Christmas songs that had been stuck in his head since the twentieth of November.
Sometime while he was cooking, Barnes had followed him into the kitchen and perched on one of two chairs at the table. Tony nearly had a heart attack when he turned to see him there unexpectedly, and he spent a good five minutes muttering about putting bells on every single one of the Avengers, because he had a heart condition dammit.
Barnes chuckled softly, which Tony counted as a win.
It wasn't long before he was serving up the piles of food onto two platters he'd found in one of the cupboards.
"Thank you," Barnes whispered softly.
Tony smiled at him. "You're welcome. It's not often I get the opportunity to cook, I'm normally too caught up on something else to do more than have JARVIS order me some food—or steal whatever Bruce or Steve have cooked."
They ate in a comfortable silence, and by the time Tony had eaten his fill, he was so stuffed he had to undo the top button of his jeans to stop it digging painfully into his stomach.
Barnes insisted on being the one to clean up, and Tony was happy to leave him to it, returning to the living room. He prodded at the fire embers, throwing a few more logs onto it to keep it burning, before he sat down on the sofa in front of it.
He was sleepy, the food and the lack of sleep before his arrival at the cabin catching up with him slightly, and he drifted off into a light doze.
While he was here to keep an eye on Barnes—and to make sure he was okay—it was almost like a holiday if the lack of any real responsibilities were an indication of such things.
Tony didn't hate it.
…
When he opened his eyes, it was to see the fire had died out. The lamp was still on though, so the room wasn't dark, and he turned his head to see Barnes sitting curled up on the other sofa.
When Tony's eyes adjusted, he realised the soldier was trembling.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked.
Barnes shook his head, biting his lip, and Tony arched his eyebrow for a moment. He glanced at the fire, wondering if he should relight it but realised it wasn't really necessary. They'd be better saving the wood for now, in case they were there for a few days.
He left the living room and came back with a stack of blankets, arranging them just so on the sofa.
Barnes watched him carefully, and when Tony gestured him over, he was surprised at the speed with which the soldier complied.
They tucked themselves up beneath the blankets, and Tony shifted closer, until their sides were pressed together, Tony's bent knees leaning against Barnes thighs.
Tony had never huddled for warmth with someone when it wasn't actually cold before, but their little cocoon was comfortable, and he knew that he'd be able to drift back off to sleep with little effort.
Before that though, he had a soldier to settle.
"Wanna tell me what's going on, Snowflake?"
"Cold," Barnes whispered. "Even though it's not, I can still feel it."
Tony twisted his lips and then nodded. "Nice and warm in here though, right? I gotchu, Snowflake. I'mma make you melt, you'll be so cozy."
Barnes chuckled, tucking the blankets even tighter.
"Are you looking forward to Christmas?" Tony asked, thinking he could take Barnes' mind off of the cold with happy thoughts.
Except.
"I think there must be something wrong with me, Tony," Barnes admitted softly. "Christmas is coming, but I'm not happy. I don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel."
Tony frowned. "I wasn't aware there was a 'supposed to' with emotions. You're allowed to feel however you feel."
"But… I think Steve expects me to be happy."
"Steve wants you to be happy," Tony corrected. "But he expects you to be honest. If you tell us you're unhappy, there might be something we can do to help, you know?"
Barnes nodded, biting his lip nervously for a moment. "He, uh. Nobody ever touches me, you know? Like, I know he's trying to respect my boundaries but… sometimes, I just want someone to hug me."
Tony blinked and then wanted to hit himself, because how hadn't he realised? Wasn't he intimately acquainted with being touch starved himself?
Barnes seemed to coil in on himself, and Tony reached out slowly to squeeze his hand, leaving his hand over Barnes' when he instantly relaxed beneath Tony's fingertips.
"Thank you for telling me. This, we can definitely fix, okay?"
"I don't want to be weak or—"
"Hey, no. It's not weakness, touch starvation is a real thing that lots of people suffer from. I suffer it myself, Snowflake. Do you think I'm weak?"
"What? No of course not—"
"Then don't think of yourself that way, okay? Steve will be happy to touch you as much as you want him too; he's literally a giant puppy, he's all for cuddles. And hey, you can always come to me, okay? I'm a slut for affection."
Barnes let out a bark of choked laughter.
Tony grinned at him. "Seriously, this is a thing we can fix easy as pie, okay?"
Barnes nodded, and taking a chance, Tony tucked himself closer, leaning his head on Barnes' shoulder. There was a momentary pause, and then Barnes lifted his arm a little to wrap it around Tony's back, holding him close.
"Thank you."
…
"I can't believe you were trapped for three days," Steve said, when Tony finally made it back to the Tower with a cuddle soldier in tow. "Are you both okay?"
"We're fine and dandy, Apple Pie," Tony quipped. "Go hug your best friend, hmm? Then come see me later."
Steve's eyes widened, but he trusted Tony, so he did as Tony said. Tony watched on as Bucky—he couldn't call him Barnes anymore, not even in his head—leant into Steve.
He didn't think he'd seen Steve smile so widely since Barton fell off the back of the sofa when Fury stepped out of the elevator.
Later, Steve had joined Tony in the workshop, and without saying a word, had tugged Tony into a tight hug.
"Whatever you said to him, thank you, Tony."
Tony smiled. "It's fine. We had a good time, Steve, it was like being on holiday. He's… he's a little bent, but he's not broken. He'll get there."
"I… actually believe that now. We're, uh, gonna watch a movie. Come and join us?"
Tony glanced at his workbench, and then wrinkled his nose. "Yeah okay, I can take a break for a few hours. But you've gotta make me popcorn, because I don't like it when anyone else makes it."
Steve nodded his head. "Done. Come on Genius."
It didn't hurt, Tony thought, that joining the soldiers for movie time meant being snuggled up against Bucky with the best popcorn ever in his lap. He could get used to this.
Written for:
Bex's Basement: 4. Grand National: Write about a race for something/against something.
Angel's Archive: 10. A Charlie Brown Christmas - (dialogue) "I think there must be something wrong with me, [Name]. Christmas is coming, but I'm not happy. I don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel."
Marvel Appreciation: Hawkeye: Gun
12 Days of Shipmas: Day 8: Your ship is trapped in a cabin/mall due to a snowstorm.
Pop Figures: Marvel: 44. Winter Soldier: Mask
Insane: 793. Huddling for Warmth