Work Text:
Bucky fucking loved his office. Anyone who worked at Stark Tower wanted one of the big glass offices that spanned the floor, and Bucky was one of them. As the new head of his own team, working on high-tech prosthetics, he got the office. His best friend, Natasha Romanov, who did something (no one knew what and no one was going to ask in case she had to kill them) up on the 87th floor, had shrugged.
“Mine looks out over the park.” She told him, as he moved his stuff in. His looked over the mostly commercial district, and residential buildings a little further out. She didn’t help him with the boxes, just sat on the (large, glass) desk that had already been moved in.
“I like my view.” He pointed out. “It’s not a windowless box, which is what my team have been working out of for the last 4 years.”
“Stark likes results.”
“Stark likes miracles.” Bucky told her, without looking around. “And those are in short supply.”
“You managed one.”
“One working prototype isn’t a miracle, Tasha. It could be a fluke and all this is for nothing.” He set the box down and looked at his arm. The chrome was impressive, but not actually metal. That had been a… vanity project – something to get them noticed, help them stand out in the pool of hopefuls to get the coveted EPSG – Employee Performance Stark Grant. John Walker had a similar prosthetic fitted to his leg for the pitch, although his wasn’t quite finished because their fucking 3D printer broke. However, the polymer exoskeleton – a honeycomb type structure – had looked pretty badass too, even without the vanity plating covering it. The metal look could be replaced with various other cases, the pitch had included Bucky showing off the cases they’d managed to put together before they’d run out of time (and money) and the silicone shell that had been painted by hand to look like real skin (freckles and all) had worked perfectly, snapping on to the uncovered shell of his arm.
It had won them the grant. Stark had loved it, which was great, and wanted them to have something to show at the Stark Expo, which was fucking amazing, but they only had one working prototype. One.
And it was currently attached to Bucky.
Two days later, he realised that when Stark wanted results, he got them. For two days he’d had probably about four hours sleep, and the man himself had shown up twice. Their equipment had been replaced with the best stuff – no more MacGyvered 3D printers for them, oh no – and Johns leg was almost finished. He could rotate his ankle in full motion, which had been causing them headaches for a long time, and to make it even better, the items they had on order had been expedited by Stark – meaning the snap-on skin and support pins had arrived three months ahead of schedule.
But the lack of sleep had been fucking with his brainwaves, and his latest readouts weren’t great – the gitches in his arm, little misfires, weren’t a software issue like he’d assumed. Doctor Banner, who worked with Tony Stark up on the top floors had been brought down to take a look at the scans.
“The stress of the last few days might be causing more strain on the nero-pathways than expected. Do you meditate?”
“Uh, no?” Bucky said. He’d be fucking gutted if the reason their project failed was because of him. His hand curled into a fist without his permission, metal plates interlocking perfectly.
“Get some sleep, eat a meal. I’ll keep Tony away for at least 24 hours. I might not be a medical doctor, but I know stress when I see it. Get a hobby. Stargaze. Do something that isn’t work every 3 to 4 hours, for at least 45 minutes. Eat.” He looked at the scans and then at Tony. “Out.”
So Bucky was sitting in his office looking at a telescope. It had an oversized red bow stuck to it, and a tag that said: Bruce said stargaze. Do that – TS.
Stargaze. Like Bucky would know the difference between one dot of light or another. In the middle of the fucking day. There was an email though, from the Banner.
Barnes, the telescope has a fine focus lens that will take a lot of slight adjustments. You might find it easier to use the arm if you practice these fine motor functions more often. I’m more than happy to help you with the neurological side if needed, the work you are doing will help thousands of people, you should be proud.
Proud. He was proud. Mostly he just felt a little selfish, because he had the only working prototype attached to his body, and if everything went tits up, he’d be okay. But yeah, he thought of the kids in the ward where he used to go after he lost his arm, thought of the horrible fake looking plastic arms and legs that had hung in the fitting rooms, freaking him out. He wanted to do better. He’d taken a nap (his office had a large couch that was a helluva lot more comfortable than his own bed) and was feeling a little better already, so he walked over to the ‘scope.
It was pointed slightly downward, so that in theory, he could look at the buildings opposite, but when he put his eye to the eyepiece, all he could see was a light grey. It took him several tries to get the fucking thing to focus – his hand was good at the larger things – he could catch a ball, or lift a box with ease – but the fine motor skills were beyond difficult, taking a lot of energy to move only a tiny bit. His hand felt large and clunky for the first time since he’d put it on, and his frustration was almost a peek when:
“Ha, you fucker!” He burst out, getting the lens to focus perfectly. He was looking at a street, perfectly clear: a store selling cupcakes in the window. They looked good, he’d forgotten he was hungry.
Stepping back from the telescope, he grinned down at his hand. “I still got it.” He smirked, and headed off to the staff café that was on the floor below. They did a killer club sandwich.
He’d settled in nicely to his new office a couple of weeks later – his scans were better than he’d hoped, and Bruce Banner was almost a permanent fixture in their bull pit, although Bucky was pretty sure that some of that was to make sure Tony Stark wasn’t showing up and driving Bucky insane. They had another working prototype in John’s leg, although his temper was becoming an issue – his scan readings were erratic and he couldn’t always be relied on to do what he needed to do. Bucky knew that if he didn’t level off soon, there was a good chance that Stark would want him dropped, and running interference between the two of them was driving him crazy.
His telescope was getting used, at least, his prosthetic fingers working much better than before, he’d spent an hour once just reading the numbers on doors. He was currently looking at a brownstone apartment block, slowly moving the scope so he could make minor adjustments, when he swept by a window.
There was a telescope, and a guy looking through it. Bucky jerked back, the telescope swinging away from him as he moved, hand twitching. He made a note of that (he had to, it was his job) and looked out of the window. The guy had been looking through his telescope, but the chances that he was looking at Bucky were slim to none. Gingerly, he aimed the lens back to the approximate spot where he’d been looking, but for the life of him, he couldn’t find the damn building.
It took him three days to find the brownstone, and it was completely by accident when he did. Banner was talking to Stark, arguing about something completely unrelated to anything related to what Bucky was working on, and he’d turned to his telescope to keep his mind (and hand) occupied. After a few seconds, he had it focused and trained on a random building. And he could make out… very slowly so he couldn’t move the lens too much and lose where he was aiming... The window above the window he’d originally aimed… had a telescope.
There was no man, though, just the scope.
“Back me up here, Barnes,” Stark said, and Bucky carefully stepped away from the scope. “Tell Bruce here that arc tech is just as sustainable as his solar nonsense.”
“Tony, I have no id-”
“See? He agrees.” Tony cut him off.
Bucky sighed, and resigned himself to another long night.
Technically, he had an apartment. Sleeping in his office was just so much fucking easier, and if he woke up (bad dreams, always falling) he could get right back to work.
His office (like all the cool offices above the 50th floor mark) all had fully equipped shower rooms adjasent to the office space and boardrooms. So Bucky had taken to jumping in the shower when he woke up in a cold sweat - throwing on a pair of jersey sweatpants and working through the night. When the sun rose, he’d have another shower, put on his suit (more recently jeans and a shirt rather than a full suit) and pretend like he’d just shown up.
His bare feet were cool on the floor as he worked on his own arm, removed and sitting on the stand where it would charge up at night. Some of the plates could still nip his skin or clothes if he moved a certain way, and he was trying to find out a way to stop it from happening. A few adjustments later, he’d fixed it in place – difficult to do alone, but easier than the first couple of versions they’d worked on. Flexing, he ran through the stretches and motions required to calibrate the arm for use.
That out of the way, he made his way over to his telescope. It was still aimed over at the apartment with the telescope and this time there was someone looking through the scope too.
He was pretty stacked from what Bucky could make out (the scope he was leaning down to look through got in the way of Bucky really being able to check him out) and he had blond hair, pushed back off his head. He wasn’t doing much but looking through the scope, and Bucky wasn’t sure why but he waved.
The man looking through the scope jerked back, flailing dramatically before disappearing completely from the window. Bucky pulled back.
Had the guy actually been looking at him?
What the hell were the chances of that?
Putting his eye down to the eye piece again, he saw the blond guy (cute, kinda really cute) gingerly looking out of the window, up at Stark Tower. Obviously without the scope, he wouldn’t be able to see Bucky at all, but he still looked pretty embarrassed. He mouthed ‘sorry’ or something that at least looked like ‘sorry’ before going back to his scope. Then he lifted his head and waved back.
Within the space of about 10 minutes, they’d already broken out the pens and paper, holding signs up to the glass of their windows for the other to read.
Steve Rogers, one said. A few seconds and some more frantic scribbling before: Artist & 100% not a creeper
Bucky Barnes, Bucky wrote back. Amputee & 100% a creeper
That got a laugh, and although Bucky couldn’t hear it (obviously) he sure did like the way that Steve tipped his head back and looked like he laughed from his gut, hand covering his heart as he laughed.
I saw the light at the tower
I really shouldn’t sleep here
Is it weird that I think your arm is cool?
I designed it
WOW (underlined three times) That is so cool!!!
Bucky threw a thumbs up as he wrote on his note pad. It’s just a prototype
Still awesome, which was underlined again, and Bucky grinned as he watched Steve’s hand fly over the pad he was holding. When he pushed it up to the glass, there was a drawing, rather than words. A guy in a super hero pose, tights and all, one arm metal. You, written under it, and a big smiling face.
Bucky laughed, shaking his head. He was down to his last page on the notepad, so he carefully ripped it in half and wrote. Man, that is awesome! You do comics?
Nope, graphic design, websites.
Bucky nodded and throw another thumbs up through the glass. His last piece of paper sat on his desk, and he wasn’t quite sure how to say he had to go get ready for work. Looking back through the glass, though, he found he didn’t have to. Got to walk the dogs, sorry! Was being held up, and Bucky could see the top of a madly wagging tail just visible over the sill.
Cool! He wrote, Nice meeting you!
Bucky found a whiteboard and a marker pen in the boardroom, and propped it up beside the telescope. Of course, nothing escaped the notice of his friends. “What’s that for?” Natasha asked, sitting behind his desk as Bucky and John worked on trying to find some way of upping the strength of the polymer they were using without adding extra weight. With the battery pack and pistons, they were already pretty heavy – any more weight and it was likely that kids wouldn’t be able to carry them.
“Huh?”
“The whiteboard.”
Bucky paused, “Uh, it’s nothing.” He shrugged, helping John back into his prosthetic. “How’s that?”
John shrugged, the wires stuck to his head making him look like some weird comic-book character. “The same, I guess. The foot feels sturdier than before.”
“Right.” Bucky nodded. “We’ve got Garrison Kane coming over tomorrow, for a fitting, he’ll need the upgrade put into the elbow joint and the kneecap,” He held out his hand, “Tash, pass me the snap-on.”
The plastic hit him in the head, causing John to laugh. Unfortunately, this also caused his reading to spike: His prosthetic knee twitched upwards and Bucky’s nose was in the way.
Ouch!
Yeah. Bucky wrote, drawing a quick ‘sad face’ on the white board and holding it up to the window. Steve must have had the same idea as him, the board in his hand was just a little smaller and easier to hold up than the one Bucky was using.
What happened?
Computer glitch + robotic prosthetics. Had worse. He held up the board and pointed to his arm, grinning.
Through the eyepiece he could see Steve shaking his head, but grinning. Suddenly, Steve’s telescope was gone, Steve jumping to his feet and looking like he was yelling – and then up at the window; a massive dog appeared, barking. Bucky was kind of glad he couldn’t hear the racket.
He watched as Steve pulled the dog away from the window and set his telescope back up, finding Bucky’s floor much faster than Bucky could locate Steve’s street through the finder. When he could see Bucky again, he waved, grabbing his board.
Winter doesn’t like not being centre of attention, He held up, pointing at something Bucky couldn’t see, head going back down to the eyepiece too see if Bucky was still there.
Husky? Bucky wrote holding up his sign.
Yeah – I have two, but Cap is sleeping.
I always wanted a dog growing up but lil sis is allergic
I’ve had Cap for years. Winter is a pup.
Big pup!
Yeah, they are HUGE dogs – raw meat only!
Bucky watched as Steve carefully moved the telescope and patted his chest. He really was pretty built, Bucky noticed again – those were certainly some well-developed pecs. At the cue, the dog (Winter, Bucky assumed) jumped up, paws landing on Steve’s hips, back legs still on the ground. He must have been about 5 foot tall standing like that, Bucky realised, and that was a puppy?
Holy crap, man, that’s not a dog, that’s a WOLF.
Steve laughed again, grabbing his chest as he did, and Bucky found himself grinning back.
Bad day, Bucky wrote, holding up his sign. He felt completely drained. If it could go wrong, it did go wrong. Garrison Kane had been one of a few people who had passed the screening and medical required for testing out the new prosthetics. Although Bucky knew that the end result would end up rolling out to most places, right now at the testing stages, it was mostly ex-army guys. Garrison was a good guy, who used a right leg and arm prosthetic. He was their first attempt and hooking up more than one limb at a time, and everything looked like it was going great until John started arguing over some elevated readouts – well within the safety zone. Garrison had overheard the words ‘dangerous brain waves’ and the next thing Bucky knows, he’s got both prosthetic limbs glitching. It took an hour to convince Garrison that everything was safe, including hooking Bucky up to the same fucking machine so they could compare readouts.
The panic meant that what should have been a standard test run was pretty useless – a setback Bucky couldn’t afford with the Stark Expo only a few months away.
Steve wasn’t at his window, and his apartment was dark, so Bucky propped up his sign at the foot of the scope and curled up on the couch.
For the first time in a long time, he slept through the whole night, only waking up when Tony Stark walked into the office at around 8am. “Up and at em, Buckaroo.” He said, holding out a mug of coffee that didn’t smell like the stuff they sold at the staff café. It had a distinct French Press air around it, and Bucky grabbed it with a grateful sigh. “If I knew you were gonna live here, I’d have added a bed somewhere.” He looked around. “I could add a bed.”
“I’m fine.” Bucky waved him off, taking a drink. “Oh, my, god.”
“It’s good, huh?” Stark nodded. “I don’t drink it, Pepper drinks it. That’s Pep’s secret stash. Be honoured. I thought you might like it after yesterday.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Whatever.” He said, waving Bucky off. He eyed the telescope and the white board. “This your version of a cry for help?” He asked, picking up the board.
“It’s nothing.” Bucky sighed. Good coffee, the best coffee he’d ever tasted, if fact, waking him up slow and warm.
“I see.” Tony said, looking through the eye piece and grinning. “Your penpal left you a love note.”
Sorry to hear that! Have a better day! There was a little drawing in the corner, the little Bucky super hero with his metal arm, waving a flag.
Bucky found himself grinning about it all day.
I was at my buddy Sams. So hungover!
I forgot it was Friday, Bucky wrote, which was probably the most pathetic thing ever.
Happens to me a lot, Steve wrote back after only a moment. I work from home.
I think I might just start living here.
At least the view is good!
Bucky paused, grinning to himself as he wrote. Fishing for compliments, Stevie?
He was looking through the lens when Steve read the note, and the resulting arm flail and blush was more than worth the awkwardness of holding the sign and looking through the eyepiece at the same time. He was franticly writing, then he’d pause, wipe it off and start again. After the 3rd time, he just held up his white board and all it said was:
Jerk
Bucky laughed so hard he dropped his board, and his marker pen rolled under his desk.
That night, Bucky actually left the office to go home. His houseplant had died, which wasn’t really all the surprising considering he couldn’t remember having a houseplant, and his mail box was full.
Around about the time he wondered if he should call for a pizza though, his mobile started ringing.
“Barnes.”
“Buckster, it’s Tony.”
“Is something wrong?” He asked, because of course something would do wrong around about the same time that he left the office for the first time in weeks.
“No, nothing wrong. Just wondering where you were. I’m in your office. You aren’t in your office.”
Bucky let out a breath. “I went home.”
“Why?” Tony sounded almost petulant. “I’m bored! You’re the only one who works on Sundays; I came all the way down to see you.” There was a sound of something being moved. “You know, I could fit an arc pack to this – it would work better than the battery your using.”
“Tony, do not fuck up my arm!” He begged, looking at the standard plastic prosthetic he wore outside of the office. Because it was such new technology, he didn’t like it to leave the safety of the building. “We’re trying to be cost effective.”
“Sure. Come back to work.” A pause. “Your boyfriend on the other end of this telescope is throwing me dirty looks. Oh, he’s got a whiteboard too!”
“Jesus Christ.” Bucky groaned, grabbing his jacket. “I’m on my way.”
When Bucky got to his office, things had been moved. Nothing he could exactly put his finger on, but something was off. Tony was looking smug too – which was always a bad sign. Boss or not, if Bucky found an arc pack in his arm, he was gonna strangle him.
“Ah, here you are!” Tony smirked, as Bucky stalked into his office. “So, I was talking to Bruce and Pepper, and we think that you living all the way on the other side of town is really not working for me. Us.” He said. He had the whiteboard in his hand and Bucky was suddenly very aware that his boss had no filter and had very likely been sending messages to Steve. Who Bucky quite liked.
“Okay.” Bucky agreed, because agreeing with Stark was always easier in the long run.
“And you know, we’ve got perfectly good apartments here in the tower.”
Bucky nodded, looking at the telescope. What had Stark said to Steve?
“And so I had your stuff moved upstairs.”
“Right.” Bucky nodded. Stark could be pretty abrasive if you didn’t know him, Bucky had found the man hard on his nerves still, and he’d been working for the man for years. What if Steve hadn’t appreciated Starks humour (what there was of it) and had gotten pissed?
“Good talk!” Stark said, handing over the white board. “I didn’t put a reactor in the arm,” He pointed out as he left, “Although once the prototypes are working, I’m taking that-” he pointed to the charging station, “And I’m doing it. Keys for your new place are on the table. You’re still on this side of the building, so you can keep up whatever weird courtship ritual you’ve got going on... going on.”
“Wait, what?” Bucky asked Starks back, but the man was already out of the room, door closing behind him dramatically. Bucky wondered if that was intentional.
I think my boss just gave me an apartment, Bucky wrote, after checking to see if Steve was there. He was, sitting on the window ledge, the head of his massive dog in his lap.
He did. It’s about 12 floors up. Steve wrote, and wiped the board clean. He checked to make sure I could still see you from there.
He’s a bit weird, sorry.
It’s cool. Not a lot of people, Steve wrote, can say they spoke with Stark via whiteboard.
I think I’m going to have to go talk to Pepper. Bucky wrote, drawing a little squiggly face. She scares me.
Pepper Potts, who was married to Stark and therefore presumably understood him at least some of the time, didn’t seem all the surprised when Bucky emailed her asking for a quick informal meeting because he was pretty sure Stark just gave him an apartment. In fact, the fact that she called him and invited him up to the said apartment meant that at least she knew what was going on.
“Tony might be a little... unconventional.” Pepper was saying. She was wearing a pair of short shorts and a white formal shirt. Bucky wasn’t sure if he’d even seen Pepper Potts in anything other than a tailored suit. She looked very relaxed for a person who’d married Tony Stark. “But he’s not completely hopeless.” She said, walking around the apartment which was far too big for one person. “And he’s been keeping track of your time in the office. You don’t go home.” She pointed out. “Ever. In fact, today was the first time you left the building in a month.”
Bucky started to argue, but... “A month?”
“Yup. We had to check your security badge three times. Happy thinks you’re a spy.” She smiled, “Although Happy also thinks that about the cleaners on 9th, so we’re not too worried.”
“I can’t afford to live here.” Bucky pointed out. “I mean, I’m not saying I don’t get paid enough, its just these places are-”
“It’s going to be added as your yearly bonus. Of course, if you leave Stark Industries to go work with someone else, the apartment will no longer be available to you.” She smiled. “Although we know that the last time you had a meeting with Justin Hammer you threatened to punch a hole through his ribcage, so we’re not too concerned about you leave us any time soon.” She paused. “Tony wanted you to know that pets are welcome.” She added.
Can you still see okay?
Yeah. Is it nice?
Steve, I’m not even kidding, man. Bucky wrote. It’s a fucking palace.
Steve was laughing again. The new angle was a little weird, the height meant that Steve could really only see Bucky if he aimed the whiteboard down, and Bucky could pretty much see into Steve’s place. He could see Winter at his feet, and a little further in, an even bigger Husky asleep on a cushion by a radiator. He assumed that was Cap, the older dog. Pet friendly too. He added. He wasn’t even sure why.
Maybe you can get that dog you wanted as a kid.
Maybe.
Stark Expo in 2 days! Bucky updated on the white board in his office, placing at the side of the telescope. The whiteboard in his apartment said AT WORK. He’d been talking to Steve pretty much every day – but recently, with the Expo just around the corner and the prototypes actually starting to look like they were going to be ready, he’d been so busy that he’d been unable to lift his head for more than an hour at a time. The bonus was, he’d worked around the issue with stress causing glitches in the software, which meant that John was no longer able to freak out their volunteers enough to cause spasms in their limbs. Garrison’s leg and arm were finished. Like Bucky, he’d opted for the ‘chrome’ look snap-on, which had surprised him a little – he’d expected the silicone skin to be much more popular.
“Why man?” Garrison laughed. “I look like a total badass.”
Steve had left his white board propped up too. Walking the dogs.
Excited?
Nervous. Really (underlined twice, and then once more when it didn’t quite display how much he was shitting himself) nervous.
Steve was grinning. You’ll be fine. He wrote, and gave him a big thumbs up.
Thanks!
I got my tickets in the mail today, for day 2.
Bucky tried to school his face into something that didn’t show just how much more nervous that made him. You gonna stop by our demo?
I dunno. Maybe. The smirk on Steve’s face pretty much said it all.
The Expo was insane. Stark personally introduced them as his ‘outstanding project’ and although he’d be getting most (if not all) of the press on the day, Bucky and his team would be the ones that were mentioned in the journals. By being the very public backer on their project, Tony was really launching their product into a global audience, and boosting their exposure astronomically.
They’d started off their demo by playing a game of basketball, skin tone snap-ons in place. John and Garrison vs Bucky and Forge (another of their volunteers) and it got a lot of laughs, especially since they were all playing dirty.
“Hi, I’m Bucky Barnes, and today,” He said, scanning the crowd and seeing a very familiar blond head about 15 rows from the front. “Today, I want to talk to you about the new Stark Tech prosthetic limbs.” With that, they removed the snap-ons – exposing the prosthetics.
It got a good response, especially since no one (well, no one but Steve and Tony) knew that they were all amputees. “Fully functional,” He said, clipping on his chrome cover. “And completely responsive,” He picked up a couple of bean sacks and started to juggle, a skill that used fine motor skills as well as larger wrist movements. “These can also provide the brain with feedback to external stimuli, like heat and touch.”
Bucky was the team leader, and the project was his baby, so he went through the demo talking about the tech and the issues faced by amputees that perhaps people might not know about.
“I’ve had this,” He said, waggling his fingers, “For about a year. I can use it just like you’d use your own hand. Our goal is to make this technology available to every amputee in the world.” He paused. “Stark Tech – making the world a better place, one step at a time.”
“Hey, Buckaroo,” Stark was saying, phone in his hand. “You are about to make me a very rich, very happy man.”
“He means to say,” Pepper cut in, “That went much better than we expected. It’s already all over social media.”
“Getting shirtless was a great move.”
“Tony!”
“What? It was! Tumblr already ships you with John, it’s great. I’m waiting on the fanfic showing up.”
“Huh?” Bucky managed. He was sweating a little; he’d never really been good at public speaking.
“Ignore him.” Pepper said, shooing Tony away. “A few people want to talk to you, but I’d suggest letting me deal with them right now – I’ll schedule a few informal interviews before we release a formal plan to roll out the main testing.” She paused. “Steve Rogers is here, Tony seems to think you’ll want to talk to him.”
Steve was taller than Bucky expected, and looked about as nervous as Bucky felt. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a blue shirt that really made his eyes stand out – Bucky realised that he’d never been able to make out the colour before. They were blue (of course Steve would be the typical blond haired blue eyed jock!) and when he saw Bucky, he smiled, little wrinkles forming around his eyes. He looked like he smiled a lot.
“Hey.” Bucky said, trying to smooth down the shirt he’d worn. Moss green and rolled up to his forearms, showing off the chrome of his prosthetic. He’d stressed for a good hour before carefully pinning the small rainbow pride flag to his shirt pocket, over his heart, and saw the instant Steve’s eyes picked it out. His grin was massive.
“Hi.” He said, and Bucky smiled back.
“So, you wanna grab something to eat and check out what the future is going to be like?” He asked, loving the way that Steve nodded instantly.
“I had a quick look around.” He admitted, “Before your demo. There’s a couple of food trucks that don’t look like they’d kill us.”
“I have it on pretty good authority that there is a flying car.” Bucky said, as they walked. “Welcome to the future.”
I saw you on TV today!
Yeah?
You looked very handsome for a change. There was a little heart drawn in the corner. Seeing it made Bucky grin like a fucking idiot.
I always look handsome, punk!
Uh-huh.
“You still leaving love notes for one another?” Tony said, looking through the scope. “That’s either really, sickeningly cute, or highly weird. I’m going to go with highly weird.”
“You bought Pepper a giant stuffed rabbit.”
“It was customised.”
“You couldn't get it up to your floor. It’s still sitting in the foyer, scaring kids.”
“Just because you got your face on the cover of National Geographic, don’t start sassing me.”
“I was on Ellen too.” Bucky pointed out. “She loves me.”
Tony snorted. “Apparently I’ve to leave you alone.” He said, eye back to the scope. “You’ve got a date later?” He picked up the white board. “And?” He asked, holding it to the window. A few seconds later, an indignant squawk. “I’ll make him late? I’ll make him late?” He turned to Bucky. “I don’t like him. He can’t move in. I refuse.”
“Who said anything about him moving in?” Bucky said, not lifting his head from the prosthetic on his desk. It was smaller than anything he’d done before, with a mesh that should fit to the skin and still allow for growth.
“You aren't asking him to move in? Why? I thought you were a thing? Does he not like the apartment? The apartment is amazing. It’s got its own AI!”
“You just said you didn’t want him to move in.” Bucky pointed out.
“Using my own words against me is a cruel, cruel thing to do.” Tony replied.
“I’m asking him to move in tonight.” Bucky said, turning the arm around to work on the elbow joint. His own arm moved seamlessly, lighter and more durable with the upgraded arc generator in the shoulder. Tony had even decaled a red star on the shoulder – which looked pretty badass, he thought. “Although I don’t know how you knew that.”
“You’ve been dating forever. It’s about time you asked.”
“Eight months.”
“Eight months is forever. I had already proposed to Pepper after three.” He paused. “Are you proposing?”
“Tony, I’m asking him to move in.” Bucky sighed. “Which is a big enough step.”
Tony looked like he was going to start arguing some more, but Bruce, who had been sitting looking through the scans of their latest test subjects, cut him off.
“Tony, most people like to live together for a while to see if they are compatible before getting married.”
Bucky ignored the argument that flowed good naturedly between the two men. After all, he had a date later.
And a ring box, containing a simple gold band, hidden in the hollow of his old prosthetic – the one place he was pretty sure no one would ever look.