Therapy

“I didn’t even know this place existed,” Tony says, looking around. They had backtracked the weapons back to the warehouse they were currently in, under Tony’s name, and he didn’t like that he didn’t know about it.

Rhodey looks around, “yeah, I think we’re going to need to call someone about this,” he says. Tony knows that Rhodey wouldn’t suggest it if it wasn’t necessary but he wasn’t totally convinced that this was an issue that he couldn’t handle himself. He wasn’t fond of authority figures, always just a little too suspicious of them. He knew that Rhodey wondered about that, why he would be suspicious of authority, especially because he was basically untouchable anyways. Rich people didn’t go to jail, especially not if they were as famous as Tony Stark. But he couldn’t help developing an aversion to the police and wider public ‘support’ systems that did dick all for him and his mother when they needed it.

He was untouchable yeah, and that was the fucking problem. Being rich, famous, and good looking shouldn’t make a person immune to the consequences of their actions. Every time some stupid reporter mentioned Howard or talked about how lucky he must have been, how lucky his mother probably was, he wanted to fucking clock them. But he didn’t because they didn’t know, no matter how many times Tony explicitly mentioned the abuse, flippantly even, people ignored it. Now he got why Howard laughed the first time Tony ever mentioned the police. They were useless and Tony didn’t trust them whatsoever, especially not with something as dangerous as his weapons. He knew the damage they could do, he made them with the intent to do maximum damage. They were made to fire once they were that good and they needed to be rounded up and properly disposed of.

“I’m in agreement with Colonel Rhodes,” someone else says and Tony turns to find a shorter man wearing aviators and a pleasant smile.

“Agent,” he says, narrowing his eyes at the irritating spy that put him on house arrest a few years ago. He personally felt that the government’s insistence that he was a threat to national security was a little much; all he did was hack into their systems to book time off for Rhodey. It wasn’t his fault the military had such crappy protection.

“Mr. Stark,” Agent says, nodding his head in acknowledgement, “your company appears to have a weapons problem and given your decision to stop selling weapons I assume that’s of interest to you.”

“Sure it is, but it’s of not interest to you so go crawl back under whatever hole you came out of,” Tony says, waving his hand at Agent, dismissing him. Rhodey watches the exchange looking amused, eyes bouncing back and forth between Tony and Agent as they bicker.

“Mmm, I think it is of interest to me,” Agent says, “but if you don’t want to see what I’ve managed to find, I’ll go.” He sounds way too fucking chipper, like he knows he’s winning this and Tony didn’t like it.

“What do you have?” he asks as Agent hits the door. He glares at the man, hoping to will him into not being an asshole about winning their little game of chicken.

Unfortunately he had no such luck, “I knew you’d do that. Here you go,” Agent says, handing him a stack of papers a good two inches thick. Tony is impressed but he doesn’t show Agent that. Rhodey, the dirty traitor, does and Tony was going to make sure he expressed ample disappointment with that later. The first bit of information was stuff he already had, mostly that his weapons appeared to be in distribution, that the patterns the weapons were making were not the same as the ones he produced, and the warehouse they were in. He didn’t, however, have any financials as proof that SI was at all involved in this but Agent did.

“How the hell did you get access to my records?” Tony demands, glaring Agent down.

Agent doesn’t even flinch, the bastard, “they aren’t your records, I just linked them back to your company. Interestingly if you flip two pages ahead you’ll note that nothing links back to you directly. And whoever is selling those weapons has done a lot of work to try and link them back to you. They were unsuccessful for reasons I couldn’t determine, but I’m going to assume that you have some very high security around your personal assets and that was why your weapons dealer couldn’t successfully link things back.” Agent sounds pleased with himself but Tony is not impressed.

“Is any of this information even legal?” he asks. There was no way it could be legal, half of this was stuff that was linked to accounts and companies overseas. He knew enough about international policies to know that trying to get this sort of information was a huge pain in the ass.

“Mostly,” Agent says dubiously with that stupid pleasant smile on his face. Tony wanted to punch him but he resists.

“Great, the government doesn’t care about the law. Disappointed but not surprised,” he says harshly.

He gets another one of those condescending pleasant smiles from Agent. “Oh, I don’t work for the government anymore. Consider me a freelancer,” he says in a tone that matched his stupid smile.

“So the government hires other people to do their dirty work for them, again, disappointed but not surprised. Get lost, Agent,” he says, handing the stack of papers back. He needed to look into those funds immediately and thankfully he had an impressive memory when it came to numbers. Unless they were birthdays.

*

“Look, would it kill you to confirm or deny the rumors?” Obi says, sitting in his chair with his legs and arms spread, taking up as much space as possible. Tony resists the urge to roll his eyes at the obvious power play. He lived an entire life with Howard, simple gestures like that would not intimidate him, or Pepper if her irritated body language was any indication.

“Would it kill them to fuck off?” Tony snaps, not willing to play this game. No one needed to know about his orientation, it wasn’t relevant to them. Unless they took up position as his sub then they could stay out of it, and even then his biology was irrelevant, regardless of what doctors thought.

“Tony, they’re curious and you can’t blame them. You keep the mystery going well,” Obi says and there’s an edge to that. Probably because Obi had some bizarre impression that Tony’s orientation was worth something when it wasn’t.

“That’s because it’s my mystery to keep. People have no use for my orientation, they all throw themselves at me now I doubt that’ll change if they knew I was a Dom,” he says, annoyed. He only realizes his mistake when Pepper lets out a small sigh and Ob grins wide.

“I knew it! You should consider selling that information, though,” Obi tells him, smile still fixed to his face.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, “as if you aren’t going to sell that information yourself as soon as you step out tat door,” he says. Obi knew him well but he knew Obi well too, if the man thought something was profitable he tried to sell it.

“You know me well,” Obadiah says, picking himself up out of his chair, “you really should have told me a long time ago. There’s money to be made.” With that he leaves the room, leaving Tony with Pepper.

“Is he even aware that I’m a billionaire? Because I think money is literally the last thing I need,” he says. But hey, Obadiah would insist he knew best, even if Tony was savvy enough at business on his own.

“Obadiah wouldn’t care if you had all the money in the world but a single dollar, he’d try and get that dollar too. You know this,” Pepper tells him.

He rubs his temples, “yeah I know but fuck, does he have to ride my ass so hard?” he mumbles.

“Better your ass than mine,” Pepper chirps.

“Oh please, if Natasha even had the slightest impression that Obadiah was thinking about your ass in any way, shape, or form she kill him and wear his skin at breakfast like a victory pelt,” Tony says.

Pepper looks horrified, “that’s disgusting! She’d probably just mount his head on the wall.” Yeah, she probably would and Tony isn’t sure which option freaks him out more.

*

Bucky takes a deep breath to try and calm himself with some success. It’s been a long time since he’s trusted anyone but Steve with his body and honestly that hadn’t gone well. Weasel, because he’s an asshole, pointed out that it wasn’t like it could get much worse from here and Bucky supposed he had a point. He was well aware of what a red flag looked like; he could just go, at least in theory. But- no, he had no reason to think Tony would hurt him. Actually all current evidence suggested the opposite and it was best to take things at face value.

The elevator door opens and for a moment he panics because he has no clue why he was there. But Tony is standing there and he looks so open and Bucky can feel some of the tension leave his body. “Pro tip, you can’t walk through the back of an elevator even if you really want to,” he says. Bucky realizes he’s half turned, poised to walk away… except that the only place to go was through the back of the damn elevator.

“Well, this is embarrassing. Sorry,” he mumbles, looking at the ground for something to do.

“That’s alright. I spent the last ten minutes debating on running away, except this is my house so I don’t really have anywhere to go unless I feel like jumping on a plane and jet leg isn’t worth it,” he jokes.

He can’t help the small bubble of laughter as he imagines Tony trying to escape his own place only to realize that shit, he lived there. It was the kind of thing Bucky would do, the kind of thing Bucky has done. Except he escaped out the bathroom window and fled to Steve’s. “Guess at least you didn’t crawl out of the bathroom window in shame,” he says with a grin.

“I would have a very long fall if I did that so no. It was an option though, until I realized that I would be falling to my death and I decided that was stupid. Besides, ten minutes before that I was looking forward to this so I figured maybe I should do that instead,” Tony says. Yeah, yeah Bucky too and Weasel was right, he has already been up shits creek and back a few times so he knew his way around. He’d be okay, this would be fine.

“Yeah me too, but last minute nerves, you know?” he says somewhat awkwardly.

“‘Course I do but we both know exactly what we’re expecting, it isn’t like this is some surprise for either of us. We planned it that way on purpose,” Tony points out. Which, yeah they had. It took a few days of back and forth to get the details right, Tony was far more detail oriented than Bucky thought he’d be, but they knew exactly what they were walking into. It was a test of sorts to see if they were compatible in this way. Bucky kind of appreciated it even if he was currently jittery and unsure. “Come on,” Tony says softly, walking towards him slowly and gently nudging him forward. Giving him time to back out, Bucky realizes, but he walks forward instead.

He liked Tony, he wanted to see where this went and this was part of seeing where this went. So he continues forward, feeling a little more grounded when Tony presses his hand to the small of his back, anchoring him some. He’s guided to a table with food and he realizes how hungry he is when the smells register past his nervousness. Obviously he had eaten earlier but he had a bad habit of forgetting to eat as often as he should and out of honestly he had mentioned it to Tony. Tony took that as an invitation to feed him and he figured turning down free food was stupid. When he sees the pillow witting next to the chair he automatically kneels on it more out of habit than anything. He doesn’t think much of it until he hears the small intake of breath from behind him and he straightens his posture a bit in an effort to further impress Tony.

It must work because Tony reaches out carefully and lightly brushes his fingertips along the bottom of Bucky’s jaw, tipping his chin up a bit so he was looking at Tony instead of the ground. “Perfect,” Tony murmurs, holding his fingers there for a moment more before taking them away. Bucky makes a small sound at the loss and Tony smiles at him. He holds his position and waits for Tony to make his move, whatever that might be. The last of his nerves have gone and Tony had his full attention, it was kind of hard not to when he looked like that.

The guy was gorgeous and Bucky was kind of jealous. Tony looked perfectly at home in his three piece suit, like he had been born in it, and Bucky could pretty much guarantee that it was tailored to fit him exactly. It sure as hell looked like it and Tony wore the look well, very well. His hair was messy, the kind that looked like he just rolled out of bed but in a stylish kind of way. Bucky has always been jealous of people who could pull that off, he looked like an angry dead dandelion when he got out of bed because his long hair went everywhere. But he was too lazy to cut it so he left it be.

The tie Tony is wearing is red, a bright pop of color on the black and white of the suit. The color suits Tony, Bucky thinks, because it’s bright and impossible to miss like Tony was. Tony picks up a plate and Bucky’s attention shifts to the food. He had no clue what the hell was on those crackers but it smelled good so he figures it probably wasn’t deadly. Tony picks up one of the crackers and Bucky leans forward slightly, eagerly, and Tony smiles. He held out the cracker and Bucky takes it gently in his mouth, surprised when it tasted so good. Bucky still had no clue what he was eating but he wasn’t going to complain either. When he’s finished the first Tony hands him another.

They repeat the pattern, Tony taking a cracker for himself every once in awhile, until they’re gone. Tony grabs another plate and grins, “think fast,” he says and a grape comes flying at him out of nowhere and hits Bucky’s forehead despite his efforts to catch it in his mouth. Tony laughs softly and Bucky pulls a grape off the plate, throwing it at Tony in an effort to pay him back. Unfortunately for him Tony catches the stupid thing, chewing the grape with a grin on his face.

Bucky sulks, “I am so offended right now,” he mumbles.

“Guess this is your redemption bite,” Tony says, holding out a grape. Bucky takes it gently between his teeth and pulls away, eating it as he goes. Tony tilts his head to the side, smiling just a bit to himself. Bucky preens under the attention. The grapes tasted freakishly good too and Bucky wondered if rich people got different grapes at rich stores or something. Probably and he was pissed that he’s been missing out. He’s handed another grape and he takes it carefully, chewing the fruit and savoring the flavor. There was no going back to poor people grapes now and he was a little mad about it because he couldn’t afford whatever kind of grape that was.

“You look so grumpy, what are you thinking about?” Tony asks, smiling at him.

“I can’t afford rich people grapes,” Bucky admits after a few seconds pause, “that sounds really embarrassing out loud,” he mumbles. Tony frowns for a moment and then bursts out laughing.

“So you like grapes, noted,” he says, shaking his head at Bucky. First off, it was not his fault he was not rolling in money like Tony was, it was hardly his fault he couldn't afford grapes so good Greek gods probably ate them. They eventually finish those off too and Tony decides it’s a good idea to try throwing another grape at him. It bounces off his forehead too; rolling off somewhere that was not Bucky’s mouth and that was disappointing. Tony throws the last grape in the air and catches it in his mouth just fine, grinning at Bucky when he does it. Bucky scowls at him.

Tony instructs him to take the dishes to the kitchen and meet him back in the living room so he does as he’s told, returning to find Tony standing there with his tie loosened and his top button undone. Bucky kind of wants to lick the skin that’s been exposed but he doesn’t, instead he waits for further instruction. Tony walks up slowly and presses a hand to his shoulder and Bucky drops to his knees in compliance. He catches Tony shudder and he shivers in response, pleased that Tony was pleased. When he drops his head to look at the ground Tony catches his chin, tilting his head back up again, “don’t hide your face,” he instructs and Bucky shivers again.

He takes a few steps back and Bucky watches, as per instruction, as Tony gives him an appraising once-over. “Take off your shirt,” he says and Bucky only pauses for a moment, self conscious of his arm, but he complies, tossing the removed garment at Tony with a grin. Tony throws it back, hitting him in the face with it and snickers, “fold it,” he says. Bucky complies, folding the shirt nice enough that even Phil would be impressed and he only folded his clothes in one weirdly specific way. Tony looks impressed and Bucky preens, “do you know how to fold a fitted sheet?” he asks.

“No one knows how to fold a fitted sheet,” he says. Except Phil and Bucky was convinced that he must be in league with the devil if he had acquired such knowledge.

“Damn. Guess you have to be some sort of god to have that knowledge,” Tony says. He turns though, picking something up off the small table behind him and walking over to Bucky with it. “Safeword?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Nettles,” Bucky says. Chosen from a fond childhood memory of when Steve had fallen into a giant patch of stinging nettles and Bucky had laughed only to have Steve push him in when he pulled himself out. They had been covered for a week with a giant rash and they had profusely apologized to each other for being assholes. For years if anyone said anything that resembled the word ‘nettles’ they were immediately suspicious and everyone thought it was hilarious so nettles became something of an inside family joke. It had become Bucky’s safeword when he forgot what his actual safeword was with some one-night stand and all he had was ‘nettles’. To be fair he hasn’t forgotten it since and he still couldn’t remember what the hell he chose before.

“Good,” Tony says and he hands out the object he had pulled off the table. A sheer scarf, Bucky realizes, and he takes it somewhat hesitantly, not entirely sure what Tony was playing at considering this wasn’t in the plan. “Put it on,” Tony tells him and then Bucky gets it. He hadn’t been fond of not being able to see; hence the scarf being sheer, leaving him some vision, and this was Tony’s way of making sure he was still okay with the idea. Instead of responding Bucky carefully ties the scarf around his head, securing it by securing it into a bow at the back of his head.

The lighting of the room had already been dimmed, which made his ability to see through the blindfold more difficult but he could still make out his shape alright. “You okay?” Tony asks after a few moments. Bucky nods because he was, he could still see, sort of, and hear. He felt fine, safe even. “Good,” Tony murmurs, brushing his fingers down Bucky’s jaw again before drawing away. He sighs grumpily when Tony moves away, drawing a snicker from the other man.

Tony circles him slowly, occasionally dragging his finger tips across Bucky’s skin lightly, the touch gone as fast as it was there. He brushes his fingers across Bucky’s shoulder, down his arm and then the touch was gone. The tips of his fingers touch his clavicle, just barely hitting the skin and then they’re gone again. Next Tony runs his fingertips down Bucky’s spine, drawing a shudder out of him, and then he steps away and Bucky misses the touch. Tony tilts his head up, his touch feather light as it was before, “gorgeous,” he whispers and Bucky shivers at the praise. But then Tony moves away again and he leans forward, trying to find touch where there was none. He hears Tony laugh softly but he sounds further away now.

Bucky can hear him plod closer and he fidgets slightly, not knowing exactly what to anticipate. Order was never decided on, probably purposefully now that he thought about it. He doesn’t really regret it though, anticipation for Tony’s next move running high. “Stay still,” Tony tells him and he manages to bring himself under control, “good,” Tony murmurs, his fingers brushing down the side of Bucky’s neck for just a moment. He resists the urge to wiggle again.

He hears Tony shift, taking a few steps around Bucky but for a moment nothing happens. Once again he resists the urge to wiggle around, this time harder than the last but he manages. Tony shifts again and hot breath hits the back of his neck, “you alright?” he asks, his voice soft, deep. Bucky shudders and nods the affirmative. He can feel Tony’s breath hit his back when he laughs softly and the sensation leaves as Tony does. With effort Bucky remains still until something cold hits his back and he yelps, unable to help jerking forward. Ice. Tony laughs and removes the cold cube, letting Bucky readjust. He put the damn cube right where he warmed up Bucky’s back with his breath too and Bucky decides he’d pout about it later.

After a few seconds the ice touches his back again and Tony runs it slowly down his back, causing Bucky to shiver as the cube left a cold trail down his back. “Good,” Tony murmurs when Bucky doesn’t yelp and jerk away this time. He was expecting it now, though. Tony pulls away and the cube goes too, “open your mouth,” Tony tells him and Bucky complies. The ice cube is placed in it and Tony closes his mouth, letting the ice melt there. It was cold as hell and a little salty from Bucky’s skin but he holds it in his mouth like he was supposed to, letting it melt while Tony shuffled off to go get something else. By the time Tony returns Bucky’s tongue is numb.

Nothing happens for a few moments and then Tony shifts, closer to Bucky he thinks, and something soft hits his skin, dragging along his chest. Feathers, his mind supplies. A feather duster. The duster leaves his skin and it’s replaced with Tony’s finger tips, slowly drawing their way down and back up, Bucky’s breath hitching as he moves. The duster returns, this time on his shoulder and Tony trails behind it with his fingertips. Bucky makes a small noise and shudders at the sensations.

“Shh,” Tony murmurs, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of Bucky’s neck. The duster disappears again and Tony’s touch follows suit quickly. He sits quietly for a few moments while Tony… assessed or something. It took work to keep from fidgeting around but he manages, barely. Tony shifts and Bucky sits still, waiting in anticipation for what was to come next. Nothing happens for a moment and Bucky works harder to keep from fidgeting. “You okay?” Tony asks but he’s too far away for his breath to hit Bucky’s skin and that disappoints him. He nods his okay.

“Good,” Tony says and he licks Bucky, the flat of his tongue running up between his shoulder blades almost to the base of his neck.

He lets out a small, “oh!” and trembles a bit, gasping. The duster hits the skin right after, dragging up his back and then back down before it’s gone again. Tony moves, shifts away from him and Bucky sighs, unhappy with this.

“Patience,” Tony tells him and Bucky hears him move, coming closer but then moving away again. Bucky fights the urge to wiggle around both in anticipation and disappointment at the loss of the sensations. Mercifully Tony moves again, coming closer and Bucky does his best to keep still but it was a fucking painful task. “So good,” Tony murmurs, “I only had to tell you to stay still once. Perfect,” he says and the tips of his fingers touch Bucky’s cheek. He tries to lean into it but Tony moves away too fast. He makes an irritated noise and Tony laughs softly at him before tipping his chin up, holding it there for a moment before kissing Bucky gently. The touch is gone too fast but Bucky doesn’t have to wait long for more. Tony presses his lips to Bucky’s again and gently nips at his bottom lip. Bucky gasps lightly, his mouth falling open and Tony takes advantage of the action, licking into Bucky’s mouth and he moans. Tony’s mouth was hot compared to his, chilled by the ice from earlier, and it’s almost too much. He knew what he was doing too, teasing Bucky gently, and warming Bucky’s mouth with his own.

“Jesus,” Tony whispers, “you’re fucking amazing.” Bucky lets out another small moan, his mind growing fuzzy around the edges as Tony gently brushes a strand of hair away from his face. Things start to blur after that, sensations blending together as they come and go, Tony’s words anchoring him in reality though the whole thing. Slowly his mind grows fuzzier as he moves towards the space somewhere between subspace and reality. His body feels light, his skin buzzing brightly with endorphins and Tony’s touch, his breath, his toys. He could let go but he isn’t sure he wants to just yet, unsure of how far this was supposed to go.

“Bucky…” Tony’s voice sounds far away, like Bucky’s ears were stuffed with cotton, “Bucky,” his voice comes again and this time he sounds closer. Something hits his shoulders, draping around and settling almost like a blanket. After a few moments Bucky determines that the softness around his body actually was a blanket. “Bucky,” Tony says again and this time he sounds like he’s right in front of Bucky.

He’d blink but he still had that blindfold on but he was more aware now, in the present. He can feel Tony reach around his head, gently untying the bow at the back of his head. The fabric falls away and Bucky blinks a few times, his eyes adjusting to the dim light of the room. He forgot that he could technically still see, he realizes, preferring to wait to find out what Tony was going to do next. Tony is looking at him with a soft expression, looking almost awed and Bucky shivers, falling forward into Tony’s chest. He lets out a short huff, “I think it’s safe to say we’re compatible,” he says.

“Mmm,” Bucky says back, unable to do much more than make a noise of affirmation. Tony wraps his arms around Bucky and gently runs his hands up and down his body, winding down from the previous session.

“You were amazing,” Tony croons into his hair, “so good.” Bucky lets out a small noise of pleasure, burying his face in Tony’s clothing, inhaling the scent of his cologne. Tony continues to run his hands along Bucky’s body, whispering words of praise and encouragement and Bucky blinks blearily, ready to sleep.