Sorry to anyone who got the notification yesterday. I decided to pull the chapter and rewrite it.
Tony's been home for a little over two weeks and he hasn't seen Bucky. It doesn't surprise him, though; they've already agreed to lay low for a while. That is, until Tony's gala tonight where he's certain Bucky will show up. At least, the invitation has been sent and Tony really hopes that he'll show up.
Much to Steve's insistence, Tony is sitting at the small breakfast in the table drinking his coffee. He's declined Steve's offer to cook him breakfast twice already, and he's sure he'll have to decline again.
"Don't forget we have an appointment with Miranda today," Steve says softly from behind his newspaper.
"I would've forgotten for sure," Tony waspishly, "because you haven't already reminded me three times."
"You don't have to be mean about it," Steve mutters.
"Sorry." Tony's phone bleeps and he really hopes it's Bucky returning the message he's sent regarding tonight's gala.
Not going. Nothing to wear
Tony rolls his eyes and he's thankful that Steve isn't paying very close attention when he replies, I'll send something over. Be there.
"If you'll excuse me," Tony says as an entirely familiar someone catches his eye. He steps around the woman with the uneven breast implants and practically glides across the floor. "You came," Tony beams, resting a hand at the small of James' back and leaning in to kiss his cheek.
James grunts and can't resist the sarcastic smile that pushes at his lips. "I wouldn't want to miss a black tie event at the home that you share with your husband, would I?" he replies with feigned enthusiasm.
"Don't be like that."
"You didn't give me a choice," James says, his voice softer and his smile falling. "You sent me a suit. And a limo."
"I wanted to see you," Tony shrugs, and makes it a point to slide his hand down to rest on Bucky's ass. "It's been too long."
"It's been a two weeks," James replies, shifting his weight on his feet. "How are things going?"
"I can't sleep," Tony mutters. "I can't concentrate long enough to accomplish anything. It's fucking annoying."
He chews his lip lightly. "Have you talked to Steve yet?"
"No."
"You might wanna cool it, then; he's staring at us," James mutters.
"Cool what? We're just talking."
"Your hand is on my ass," Bucky retorts as he takes a step back.
"Now he's gonna think something's up. Come on."
"Stark—fuck," Bucky groans as he's dragged across the room to greet Steve.
"Hey, Steve, look who I found," Tony smiles, and Bucky can hardly force himself to make eye contact.
As usual, Steve is the first one to like a mature adult. He nods and extends his hand for Bucky to shake. "It's nice to see you again," he exclaims.
"When did things get so formal between us?" James fires back with a clearly distasteful tone in his voice. He declines the handshake, giving Steve a classic 'I can't believe you' look before storming off.
"I think there may be some hard feelings between you two."
"Tony, shut up. Just shut up," Steve says through clenched teeth.
"Why are you mad at me?"
"Because you're both incapable of acting like adults."
"I'm throwing an adult party with adult drinks."
Steve shakes his head and shoves his hands in his pockets, turning his back to Tony and going to find Natasha.
Tony shrugs it off, literally, and turns around in a circle. He's looking for someone, and knows exactly where to find him. "Steve's thoroughly upset," Tony says when he approaches James at the bar. "I swear if I didn't know better, I'd think he was pregnant. He gets so pissy at everything."
Bucky pushes away from the bar, and Tony follows close at his heels. "Where are you going?"
"I just need some air," James retorts, and he's caught off guard when Tony grabs his arm and pulls him into the coat closet. "What the—?"
"There's air in a closet. And oh, look, there's a lock," Tony quips as he reaches around and locks the door.
"Tony," Bucky says quietly, and his eyes are unfocused and his stomach is in knots. He looks up at Tony and Tony knows he's not in the mood to fuck around.
Tony's smile falls and, despite what Steve thinks, he's entirely capable of being serious when it matters. "What?"
"Why did you invite me here?"
"Because I wanted to see you; I told you that already."
"If you wanted to see me you could've come by my apartment. I feel like you're playing some kind of game with me and now I feel like shit because of it. Maybe you don't want to leave Steve. Maybe you're just fucking around with me because you're bored with your marriage, but you have no intentions of really getting divorced."
"No, it's not. I swear to you, it's not that. I really did wanna see you." Tony steps forward and tentatively wraps his arms around James, burying his face in the crook of his neck.
Bucky returns the embrace and his metal fingers curl in the back of Tony's hair. "Can we just go back to California?" he asks quietly.
"I wish. God, I wish we could," Tony admits. He moves his head just a little so he can kiss James, soft and slow, and he wishes they were in a bigger closet. He sighs against James' lips and rests their foreheads together briefly. "Just be patient, alright? I'm not going anywhere."
"I love you," James mutters.
"I know," Tony whispers. "I know you do."
"I'm just gonna go. I'll see you later."
Tony nods, but reaches out to grasp Bucky by the hips. He pulls Bucky closer and kisses him again, slow and thorough, and holds his face as he does so. When the kiss breaks, James steps around Tony and when they leave the closet, they're both relieved that no one is around to see.
Then again, Natasha is a skilled spy, and doesn't make her presence known until Barnes is out of sight and she matches Tony's pace as he's heading back to the party. "That explains a lot," she snips.
Tony groans at the mere sound of her voice, and contemplates ignoring her completely, but she snatches his wrist in a vigorous grip. "Steve doesn't know," she concludes, because that's kind of obvious. She halts and spins Tony around to face her, releasing his wrist. "You know, I always thought you were kind of a dick. I guess I just didn't know how big of a dick you were. How long have you been fucking Barnes?"
"You can't even pretend to know what's going on," Tony snaps, his voice low even though they're the only two in the hallway. "Don't even try to understand. And for the love of all things unholy, don't you fucking tell Steve."
"He deserves to know," he hisses. "I'm not just going to let you destroy him like this. You do know that it'll destroy him, right? Of course you know; you just don't give a shit."
"I know he deserves to know! And I'll tell him."
"Before it's too late," Natasha concludes. "You'll tell him right before you leave him, and judging by what Steve's telling me, you've been leading up to that for a while. Why Barnes? My god, I thought you had decent taste."
"We have the same taste if I'm not mistaken," Tony remarks, raising his eyebrows.
Natasha can't resist the urge to roll her eyes. "If you don't tell Steve, I will," she says, her pace quickening as she passes Tony. "You have a week."
To Steve's surprise, Tony spends the second half of the gala at his side. He's respectful and subdued and Steve is definitely not expecting that. He starts to think that maybe their sessions with Miranda are helping.
It's midnight now, and Steve is showing the last guests out of the tower. Tony waits patiently for Steve to finish and as they ride up to their floor they remain silent. Tony changes into a pair of sweat pants and a tank top, clearing his throat awkwardly as Steve changes as well.
"You're more than welcome to sleep in the bedroom," Steve says quietly as he pulls at the waistband of his pajama pants. "I'll take the couch or—"
"I don't think that's a very good idea," Tony cuts in. "I'll just go down to the lab."
"Okay. Goodnight, then. Don't stay up too late."
Tony almost—almost—smiles and nods. "I'll keep that in mind. Night."
Tony realizes that he no longer goes down to the lab to work. He goes down to drink in peace and brood about how badly he's fucked his life up.
"Do you actually plan on getting up today?" James asks, crossing the room with a bowl of cereal cradled in his hand. He's walking around comfortably in boxer briefs and a baggy long sleeve shirt that almost hangs off one shoulder.
"Why would I wanna do that?" Tony quips with a smirk, turning to see that the pouring rain still hasn't stopped. "What are you eating?"
"Cereal. It's not like you have any ingredients to cook real food."
"You could've ordered in," Tony retorts.
James shrugs and takes the last bite of his cereal before drinking the remaining milk. He turns to go back to the kitchen to put his bowl in the sink, but Tony calls after him.
"Where are you going?"
"To the kitchen."
"No," Tony whines. "Come back."
"I'm going to the kitchen, I'll—"
Tony makes it a point to throw the blanket back and scoot over in the bed. "Come be my little spoon."
James sets his bowl and spoon on the nightstand and crawls into bed, hair hanging in his face, before he makes himself comfortable against Tony.
"Do you know how beautiful you are?" Tony asks quietly, pressing a kiss behind his lover's ear.
"You make me feel that way," James whispers, and he knows he sounds like a fucking woman.
"I'll always want you," Tony murmurs. "In ten minutes, ten days, ten years."
The following day when Miranda comes back from her lunch break, she's surprised to see Tony Stark sitting in the waiting room outside her office. She smiles politely, hoping that there are no remnants of lunch stuck in her teeth. "Mr. Stark?"
Tony stands and shoves his hands in his pockets, speaking quietly. "Do you have a minute?"
The woman shifts her laptop bag on her shoulder. Her hour after lunch is usually spent doing paperwork and isn't a viable appointment slot, but Tony looks distraught and is definitely acting out of character. Miranda hesitates before nodding and unlocking the door to her office. "I can spare a few."