AN: Double-posted again today, so don't forget to read chapter 14 as well.
(Oh, and... please don't kill me. ^^')
Bucky walked back to Tony's room automatically, so deep in thought that he was genuinely surprised when he found himself already there.
Tony was curled up on the bed with a book in his hand, and looked up at the sound of the door opening. He smiled when he saw it was Bucky, making Bucky's heart beat a little faster and his breath quicken.
"Hey," Tony said quietly, putting his book down and scooting towards the edge of the bed.
"Hey," Bucky returned, closing the door behind him and then leaning against it.
Tony's mouth thinned, expression turning pensive. "T'Challa told you about the ship, I take it?" he asked, chewing the inside of his cheek.
Bucky took a deep breath. "Yeah," he sighed, not bothering to hide his apprehension.
Tony gave him a strained smile and hugged his knees to his chest. "It's a good thing, though," he said, with cheer that sounded forced to Bucky's ears. "We finally get to go home. Well, provided that ship's really coming for us. Knowing our luck, it's been taken over by pirates or something, which I guess probably wouldn't be quite as bad as-"
"T'Challa says we can stay here," Bucky said in a rush, fingers drumming against the wood of the door behind him.
Tony stopped and blinked in surprise. "Sorry?"
Bucky swallowed, eyes meeting Tony's briefly before darting away. "T'Challa, he... offered to let us stay here. If we wanted," Bucky said carefully. He was having trouble looking at Tony directly, afraid if he did, Tony might -
"Why - why would he ask that?"
- say that. Bucky cringed internally, his throat working as he tried to find something to say. "Dunno," was what he settled on, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "It was something he thought we might want, I guess. I," He looked up, feeling like he was making an apology as met Tony's eyes and said, "I told him no."
Tony frowned, watching Bucky intently, as though he was looking for something. "Of course you did," he said finally in a strange tone. Then he scooted over until he was sitting at the edge of the bed, and patted the space beside him in silent invitation.
Bucky shook his head. "I - can't," he said, and floundered for an excuse. He felt off-kilter, wrong, somehow, and T'Challa's words kept echoing around in his head -
"And yet, he's very clearly in love with you."
"I'm, uh, kinda tired, so I was going to turn in early," he said lamely, and pointed at the door with his thumb.
"You don't have to go," Tony said, sitting up a little straighter when Bucky put a hand on the doorknob. "I'm not really doing anything. I was mostly just waiting for you."
The doorknob creaked under Bucky's grip. "No, it's - I really just want to go to sleep -"
"Which you've done here every night since we've arrived," Tony said, frowning and standing up. "What's wrong? You're acting funny."
"Nothing. I'm not," Bucky replied, immediately noticing how Tony visibly tensed at the words. "It's not - I just, don't think it's a good idea. Now that you're well."
Tony crossed his arms, now looking confused as well as upset. "What are you talking about?"
Bucky gritted his teeth. "Sleeping. In here. With you. In the same bed," he said tersely, pointing at the bed with his chin for emphasis.
Tony huffed out a laugh. Then he seemed to realize Bucky wasn't joking. "You never cared before," he protested, sounding hurt.
"That's different," Bucky said stiffly, glaring at the ground. "You were sick."
"What difference does that make?" Tony demanded, looking mutinous. "I wasn't sick when we were on the Bifrost."
Bucky jerked his head up. "That was -" he started, only to stop when he couldn't think of an excuse. "Never mind. Look, T'Challa gave me a room -"
"Which you've never used."
"Because I've been in here with you -"
"Exactly!" Tony exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "So I don't really see -"
Bucky growled in frustration. "It's just not appropriate, Tony!" he snapped before he could stop himself, instantly wishing he could take it back when Tony flinched and then stilled, face draining of expression.
"And why," Tony said slowly, voice strained and hushed. "Would it not be appropriate?"
Bucky turned away. "You know why," he said miserably, glaring at the spot of floor to Tony's right.
"No, no I don't," Tony ground out, and there was an edge to his tone, just a tiny note of panic Bucky didn't think he would have heard if he hadn't known Tony as well as he did. "Because I've woken up tangled up next to you every morning for the last few weeks, and I don't understand how now, all of a sudden, it's not okay."
Bucky clenched his fists, jaw working as he tried to think of something, anything, to say.
Because you're not mine. Because it'll hurt more in the end.
Because I love you.
Bucky shook his head. "I can't," he said, voice raw.
Tony hugged himself, eyes sweeping up from Bucky's clenched fists to his face. Whatever he saw there made him suck in a deep breath and close his eyes. When he opened them again, Bucky could see a steely edge of determination there, as well as something else, something that made Bucky's breath catch and his stomach clench.
"Is it because I'm in love with you, or because you feel something for me?" Tony asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Bucky looked away. "Tony…" he warned hoarsely, but Tony only laughed wetly.
"No, you don't get to deflect," he said stormily, angrily wiping at his face. "Not after the pet names and the looks and the smiles and the touching, and -" He stopped and took a deep breath, then shook his head.
"I'm not stupid, Bucky," he said bitterly. "I can read the signs, same as you can. I know you feel something for me, I just don't what, and I - I can't keep wondering." He looked down and swallowed audibly, fists clenched. "You - you kissed me, remember? Back on the Bifrost. Even if you were pissed and drunk at the time-"
"I wasn't pissed at you," Bucky said quickly, in spite of himself. He knew it was probably confirming the point Tony was trying to make, but still, it was important Tony knew that. "I was..." Jealous. "...angry, but not at you, and that wasn't why I… did it. And I wasn't drunk, either," he added tiredly. "I - I can't get drunk, anymore. With the hydra blood."
Tony stayed silent for a second, letting that digest. Then he let out a breath that was almost a laugh.
"So it was real," he murmured, more to himself than to Bucky, it seemed. Then he looked up and squared his jaw, voice uncharacteristically small when he asked, "Do you love me?"
Bucky's heart skipped. "What's it matter?" he said tonelessly. Tony must have still seen something in his face, though, because his eyes widened a fraction. "You're getting married, remember?"
Tony rubbed at his mouth. "To Steve," he said slowly, a spark of unconcealed hope in his eyes. "You know how I feel about him."
Bucky closed his eyes. "Yeah, I do, actually," he said, leaning back against the door warily. When Tony didn't say anything, he opened his eyes. "Do you still think you'll grow to love him?" he heard himself ask, even though he knew the answer would just make everything worse.
Tony sucked in a deep breath, then let it out. "I think I could have," he said softly, before giving Bucky a small, sad smile and adding, "But only if I'd never met you."
Bucky felt something inside him crack.
"What do you want me to say, Tony?" he snapped harshly, pushing away from the door. "That I have feelings for you? That I've been falling for you since the first day we met?" He dug his fingers into his hair, ignoring the sting when several strands got caught in his metal hand, then gestured between them. "It doesn't matter what I say, or how I feel, or even how you feel - you said it yourself, back on the Bifrost: you're still marrying Steve."
"Which has nothing to do with how I feel about you," Tony started, taking a step towards Bucky and freezing when Bucky held up a hand to ward him off. He bit his lip and looked away, hands rubbing against his thighs, then cleared his throat.
"I'm - I'm not asking you to, to marry me, or anything. I can't - I know we can't have a future," he said quietly, voice thick with emotion. "But we can - we do - have right here and right now, and if that's all we can have…" He looked up, hands trembling as he met Bucky's eyes again. "Isn't that better than nothing?" he whispered, eyes bright with hope and, well - fear.
Fear. He was terrified, of being rejected - of Bucky rejecting him, which was an entirely ridiculous concept all by itself.
It made Bucky just want to wrap his arms around him, hold him close and take all the fear away. But -
"Whether you're in love with him or not, you're still Steve's," Bucky hissed, digging his nails into his palms. "And I - I can't…"
Tony's mouth twisted. "I'm not Steve's," he reminded Bucky, tone resigned but firm.
"You know what I meant," Bucky snapped, swiping a hand across his face angrily. "Don't make this about that. I know he doesn't own you, but I, he - he still has a claim on you, Tony, and I…"
He trailed off as Tony shook his head, eyes huge and liquid.
"No," he said quietly, and took a step closer. Bucky watched his throat bob as he swallowed, and then he whispered, in a voice that was firm and soft at the same time, "I meant I'm not Steve's... yet."
Bucky shuddered, opened his mouth to protest -
And snapped it shut as the implications of what Tony was trying to say hit him.
Bucky swallowed, hard, and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. "If I stay in here with you tonight, we're gonna end up doing more than sleeping," he said lowly, carefully watching Tony for his reaction.
When Tony's only response was a hard shiver, Bucky closed his eyes and swore softly to himself, digging his nails into his palms to keep from touching.
"Please," Tony said softly, forcing Bucky to open his eyes. "Just, just once, I want…" He reached out, hand hovering over Bucky's chest, but not touching. "Can we be selfish? Just this once?" he asked, eyes pleading. "I - for once in my life, I just want to be me. I don't want to be the Stark heir, or Lord Rogers's fiance, or the future king, I just…" He trailed off, and it was the lost expression on his face that did Bucky in.
"Since I've met you, you've only ever been Tony to me," Bucky whispered. He could feel his resolve crumbling, the will to fight slipping away, so he gave into the urge to touch him, reaching out and gently cupping Tony's cheek.
Tony leaned into it immediately, shoulders sagging, the naked relief and longing in his face damn near tearing Bucky's heart in two.
"Right now, I just want to be yours," he murmured, eyes open and honest.
It was the easiest, most natural thing in the world for Bucky to pull Tony against his chest and wrap his arms around him. "Fuck, Tony," he whispered shakily, burying his face in Tony's neck.
Tony's hands crept up Bucky's back and grabbed hold of Bucky's shirt, clinging as though afraid to let go. "Don't leave," he mumbled into Bucky's chest, voice wobbly.
Bucky lifted his head to bury his face in Tony's hair instead, nuzzling the soft strands and inhaling Tony's scent. "I won't," he promised, rubbing circles into Tony's back.
Tony shuddered, then grunted and gently nudged them over to sit the edge of the bed, somehow managing to do so without ever pulling out of the embrace. "Promise?" he asked hoarsely, pulling his head back enough look Bucky in the eye.
Bucky trembled, hard, and closed his eyes, bending down until his forehead was resting against Tony's.
Tony cupped the back of Bucky's neck as though he could hold him there, squeezing with pressure that felt like too much and not enough at the same time. Then he let out a shuddering breath, and did the one thing Bucky's couldn't say no to:
"Bucky, please," he whispered, voice raw and desperate.
Bucky made a noise between a gasp and a groan, then closed the gap between them and finally pressed their lips together.
The sound Tony made went straight to Bucky's chest, coiling around his heart and then settling in his stomach, warm and brilliant like sunshine, or like Tony himself. Bucky sank into it gratefully, tilting Tony's head back so he could deepen the kiss, and gasping when he felt the first touch of Tony's tongue against his.
Bucky groaned, accepting the invasion and responding in kind, his metal hand dipping down to the small of Tony's back so he pull him closer. Almost of its own accord, his hand slipped up Tony's shirt, sliding up the expanse of warm, smooth skin, digging in and squeezing a little when another swipe of Tony's tongue made Bucky shudder.
Tony whimpered, loud enough that Bucky thought he might have done something wrong and broke the kiss. "Are you…"
Tony whined and dug his fingers into Bucky's neck and shoulder, until Bucky was kissing him again with twice as much fervor as before, and Bucky knew, with absolute certainty, that he was lost.
He was dimly aware of pushing Tony back against the bed, of Tony's hands stroking down his back. Of kissing down Tony's neck while Tony eased his shirt off, and then divesting Tony of his shirt as well. Of Tony's legs wrapping around his waist, and of Tony's wrecked voice in his ear, showering him with praises and encouragement and curses in equal measure.
More than anything, though, he was aware of Tony's heartbeat, thundering away beside his, and how, through it all, Tony never let go of him once.
Bucky woke to sunlight streaming through the curtains, Tony's arm wrapped around his waist, and Tony's soft breathing stirring the hair at the back of his neck. He laid there like that for a few minutes more, reveling in the feeling of it all, before shifting very carefully and turning until he was facing Tony on the pillow.
It was one of the most gorgeous things Bucky had ever seen. Tony's mouth was slightly askew, red and swollen from last night, his long, dark lashes and golden skin emphasized by the white of the pillow. The sight made Bucky's breath hitch and his hands itch to touch, but he contented himself with just looking, and drinking in as much as he could.
While you still can, a treacherous little voice in the back of his head pointed out, but Bucky ignored it and let his eyes roam lower, where the sheet had fallen and exposed most of Tony's torso.
When he returned his gaze to Tony's face, Tony's eyes were open, and watching him with the same kind of reverence Bucky was sure was on his face as well.
"Good morning," Tony breathed, barely above a whisper, shivering and closing his eyes when Bucky reached up and cupped his cheek.
"Good morning," Bucky returned softly, gently caressing the skin under Tony's eye with his thumb.
Tony's lip trembled. "We can't do this again," he whispered, opening his eyes and letting Bucky see all of the sadness, the despair, and - most of all - the love there.
Bucky's free hand found Tony's, and tangled their fingers together. "I know," he whispered back, and pressed their foreheads together.
"I'm sorry," Tony murmured softly, once they were dressed and ready to head down for breakfast. He was looking down at his feet, hands held against his middle as though it hurt, and seemed unwilling to step out the door.
Bucky sucked in a shuddering breath and stepped closer to him, framing Tony's face in his hands and gently tilting his head back so Bucky could see his eyes.
They were red-rimmed and watery, but still the most beautiful things Bucky had ever seen.
He bent down and kissed him, intending it to be a simple, chaste brush of lips, but Tony had other ideas; one hand reached up and tangled itself in Bucky's hair while the other tugged insistently at the back of Bucky's neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Bucky let him, tilting his head and letting his eyes slip closed, determined to memorize the taste and feel.
Because this was goodbye, and they both knew it.
When Bucky finally, reluctantly pulled back, Tony made a soft sound of protest, but didn't fight it. Bucky kissed his forehead, then pulled him into a tight embrace, resting his chin atop Tony's head.
He wanted to say it was okay, but couldn't bring himself to lie. Instead, he ran his hand up and down Tony's back, and whispered, "What if you could choose?"
Tony shuddered, then pushed back so he could look Bucky in the eye. "Then I would choose you. Every time, and in any way - I'd always choose you, James Buchanan Barnes."
It should have been a comfort. It wasn't.
"T'Challa was telling me how some royals still end up taking lovers after they marry," Bucky said quietly after a few seconds of silence, even though he felt dirty for even saying it.
Tony's fingers, which had been playing with the hair at the nape of Bucky's neck, stilled.
"We could never do that to Steve," he mumbled, looking guiltily down at Bucky's chest.
Bucky smiled softly. "That's what I told him," he said, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the small of Tony's back. "Besides, I'm not nearly pretty enough to be your mistress, anyway."
Tony laughed wetly. Then he reached up and cupped Bucky's cheek. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met," he said, eyes warm when they met Bucky's. "And you're - you're worth more than that. More than some tawdry affair on the side."
Somehow, after everything else, that was the thing that made Bucky crack.
"Stevie told me you were a hard guy not to love," Bucky choked, leaning into Tony's hand and placing his own over the top of it to hold it there.
Tony sucked in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly, but didn't say anything.
Bucky gave him a watery smile, then gently pulled Tony's hands off of him and took a step back, still holding both of Tony's hands in his.
"He just didn't tell me it would hurt so much if I tried," he whispered hoarsely, giving Tony's hands one last squeeze.
Then, even though it felt like dying, he let go, and walked towards the door.
Tony didn't stop him.
AN: For a link to artwork by Massivespacewren that goes with this chapter, check out my profile.
