Therapy

“Am I the only one that’s a little mad that we all knew Phil and didn’t know it?” Bucky asks.

“No, and you even said Agent reminded you of your friend and it turned out he is your friend. I dislike Agent more now,” Tony says, giving Phil a suspicious glare. He's chatting with Natasha, who was going over some information that Phil had gathered. Bucky was so tempted to tattle on him to Clint just because he was annoyed that Phil knew Tony far before he vetted him for Bucky and pretended he didn’t know him at all. Now he half assed wondered what else Phil had casually kept secret in the name of national security or whatever.

He would have responded to Tony’s comment but Phil and Natasha come back over with their stack of paperwork, “you’re going to have to do the math here, I’m an agent, not a mathematician. Also I’m lazy and I don’t like you so making you do work brings me great pleasure,” Phil says, that pleasant smile gracing his features as he handed Tony a bunch of files.

“Jokes on you Agent, I like math and I find it calming,” Tony says, snatching the files out of Phil’s hand, nose in the air.

“What the fuck? Math is the devil and it needs to be eradicated,” Bucky says. Tony looks hilariously offended by this statement but Phil and Natasha snicker.

*

Bucky is a little apprehensive about this but Tony was right, he's stressed and that wasn’t going to do him any good. Plus Tony was stressed too, understandably, and he could use something to calm him as well. He agrees because he needed to relax but also because he was curious to see if Tony could manage. He knew he was difficult to manage even before Brock came around because he was always nervous that someone, somehow, would figure out that biologically speaking he wasn’t a sub. Then Brock came around and confirmed all his worst fears and it made him doubly nervous. Being in a stressful situation wasn’t bound to help either but he kneels at the end of Tony’s bed like he was instructed to, facing away from it.

He can hear Tony moving around doing whatever it was that he needed to and he waits patiently even if he felt more like pacing than sitting. When the music starts playing Bucky focuses on that instead of Tony’s shuffling around because the soft sounds of the classical music were a pleasant release from listening to Tony’s scrambling around. Admittedly he didn’t listen to a huge amount of classical, he usually preferred lyrics, but this was nice. Lyrics would be distracting at the moment and the soft notes filtering through the air were slow and steady and the distinct opposite of all the shit that was going on right now. The slow methodical piano notes were a pleasant and welcome distraction to his currently high traffic, high stress life and he embraced the music, letting the sounds wash over him.

The sounds were beautiful, soft, and the low notes were captivating. He takes comfort in the heavy structure of the song, anticipating how the sounds were going to progress and change, creating a slow and careful melody that calmed Bucky’s nerves some. The piano was a steady and predictable weight to the world, speeding up slightly and slowing as the song came to a crescendo and began it’s final notes, ending on a pleasant note before the next song begins to play. It was slightly more upbeat than the first and had more instruments but still stuck with a lot of strings. The notes were higher and held more structure in part because there were more instruments involved but the sounds was just as sweet and relaxing.

He feels more than hears Tony sit behind him on the bed, gently touching his hair, pulling it back from his face and over his shoulders. He probably should get it cut but he sort of liked the extra length of it now. Tony doesn’t say much of anything as he gently pulls Bucky closer and Bucky goes, leaning back some to give Tony better access. A new song begins to play as Bucky feels the brush moving through his hair, detangling the strands that he hadn’t brushed in far too long. Tony is gentle with it, carefully pulling the knots free until the brush flows smoothly through the silky locks. The brush moves rhythmically down his scalp and through the rest of his hair as Tony hums along with the current song, seemingly familiar with the progression of the music. He listens to the low hum of Tony’s voice, feeling the gentle pull of his hair as the brush moved through it.

The brush moves away from his hair but the sensation isn’t gone for long. Tony’s fingers brush through the long strands instead, gently pulling the hair back before his fingers return to Bucky’s scalp. He gently massages the roots of Bucky’s hair and he sighs, leaning heavier into Tony’s hands. “Good,” Tony murmurs and a shiver runs down Bucky’s spine at the praise. Tony’s fingers knead at his scalp, slowly moving down towards the back of his head. The touch is relaxing, calming, and Bucky sinks into it, allowing himself to let go just a little so he could properly enjoy the way Tony’s fingers massaged around the edges of his ears. “You okay?” Tony asks after a moment.

“‘M’fine,” he mumbles, slurring the words out with more trouble than he anticipated.

“That’s good,” Tony tells him, “you’re doing really well but I’m gunna have to get you to let go a little bit more for me, okay?” he says, hot breath hitting the back of his neck. Bucky sighs and nods after only a moment, knowing that he needed this and that Tony wasn’t likely to hurt him. Even if he was Phil was two rooms away and he’s seen fist hand what Phil could do with just a little will power and a lot of fury. “You sure you’re alright?” Tony asks, gently pulling his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“Yeah m’okay,” he says softly.

“Alright,” Tony says after a moment, “what’s your safe word?” he asks.

“Nettles,” Bucky says, sparing a glance over his shoulder.

“Good. Remember to use it if you need to.” Tony pulls his fingers though Bucky’s hair again, this time gathering it at all into a ponytail in the middle of his head before he wraps a rubber band around the hair once, twice, pulling it through a third time but leaving it in at bun. “Now take your shirt off and lay down on the bed, face down,” Tony instructs. He pulls himself off the bed and walks elsewhere, leaving Bucky to follow his instructions. He does, obviously, folding the shirt neatly and leaving it where he was sitting before crawling onto the bed, savoring the feeling he got as he sunk into the mattress. Tony shuffles around on the other side of the bed and Bucky shifts so his arms were tucked under the pillow his head was on.

“You sleep on a cloud,” Bucky mumbles. The blankets were soft too, not at all like the scratchy cheap one he owned and he was one hundred percent jealous.

“‘Course I do, I’m rich,” Tony says. Bucky can hear the grin in the tone he uses and he smiles back, snorting lightly. He feels the dip in the bed as Tony climbs in, crawling over to Bucky and pausing for a moment before throwing a leg over Bucky’s hips and sitting on his ass. “You have a seriously firm butt, I could bounce a quarter off this.” Tony makes a pleased noise and Bucky grins.

“Thanks,” he says. His ass was easily one of his best features, and his hair but he didn’t usually put an effort into making it look as pretty as it could be. Steve used to wax poetic about his eyes but after the revelation that he’d been creepily pining after him that kind of ruined the whole thing.

“Shh,” Tony murmurs, placing his hand in the middle of Bucky’s back. The warmth from Tony’s hand was enough to remind him of what kind of headspace he was supposed to be in and he calms some, taking a deep breath and focusing on Tony. “Good,” Tony murmurs, letting out a shuddery breath when Bucky shivers in response. He hears the cap of something open and Tony’s hand leaves his back for a moment, resulting in him making a noise of discontentment at the loss. Tony laughs softly and tells him to be patient so Bucky waits, even though he didn’t want to. It takes a few moments but Tony’s hands are back on him, smoothing what Bucky presumed to be either lotion or oil up his back.

He sinks into the contact, letting out a soft noise of pleasure and Tony’s hands reach his neck and tenderly massage the muscles there. Tony huffs out a laugh as Bucky tilts his head to give Tony better access, fingers pressing into the muscles there a little harder. Slowly Tony works his way down Bucky’s back, avoiding the metal shoulder without question thankfully, kneading at the tense muscles there. Tony clearly knows what he’s doing, expertly working the knots out of his muscles as he hums along to the tune of the song that was currently playing softly in the background. He blends the massage in with simple petting, running his hands over Bucky’s back, his sides, down his neck, and curving over the half of Bucky’s jaw that wasn’t currently on a pillow. Tony trails his fingers lightly down Bucky’s spine and he shivers at the touch, groaning when Tony follows the touch with working out a particularly stubborn knot in his back.

When Tony’s hands leave his back he whines and Tony gently brushes a strand of hair that had fallen out of his bun out of his face, “shh, you’re doing great,” Tony murmurs, “so good.” The tingly feeling from the praise hits him somewhat suddenly, leaving his brain feeling somewhat fuzzy and hazy. Tony shifts his position, moving away, and Bucky lifts his head some to see where he was going. “Hey, shh, lay back down,” Tony says softly, “I’m not going far baby, just to the night stand.” He presses a kiss to the underside of Bucky’s jaw and Bucky tilts his head to give Tony better access but he’s already moving away again. Bucky lets out an annoyed huff but leaves Tony to it, instead focusing on the tingling that still lingered from Tony’s earlier words.

It was a pleasant feeling, like his whole body is relaxed and floating, just out of reach from the real world. He can feel when Tony shifts back, noting it dimly in his mind, before he feels Tony’s hands settle back on his hips. “You okay?” he asks, gently petting Bucky’s sides.

Bucky means to say he’s fine but it comes out more like a garbled mess and Tony takes in a sharp breath, “are you in subspace?” he asks.

“Close,” Bucky mumbles, managing to actually form the word this time. Tony shivers on top of him and Bucky lets out a small moan of pleasure at having satisfied his Dom.

“Let go, baby,” Tony whispers, “it’s okay, I’ve got you.” Bucky does, dropping fast as a wave of pleasure and tingles wash over his skin, leaving him aware of only Tony’s weight on his back, his hands on his sides, and his breath in his ear. He hears Tony’s quiet ‘oh fuck’, no doubt feeling Bucky dropping himself and Bucky shudders. Tony kisses the underside of his jaw again, trailing the kisses down and over his shoulder, murmuring praise along the way and stroking Bucky’s sides. He remains dimly aware of Tony’s movements, feeling as a warm cloth is dragged down his back, presumably to remove whatever it was Tony used to massage him, before the sensation is replaced with another. It occurs to Bucky that he had no idea if the marker Tony was currently using on his back would come off or not but he lets the worry go, content to focus on Tony’s work.

This had been the point of Tony’s buildup anyways, to figure out the math on Obadiah’s underhanded business practices so that Phil could go about doing more spy things. Bucky had been apprehensive when Tony suggested it, having no idea how that could possibly work but he wasn’t complaining about it now. Occasionally Tony would pause to pet Bucky’s hips, his hair, gently trailing his fingers over his back, and to wipe off his back with a warm cloth and start his math over. He supposed that unintentionally answered his question about having math all over his back.

In the meantime Bucky focuses on Tony’s breathing, where his hands are, the way he tapped his fingers against Bucky’s ribcage when he paused in his writing. Occasionally the music in the background would swell and he’d focus on that for a moment before is faded back into the distance, replaced by Tony’s actions. Eventually Bucky looses focus of that too, falling deeper into subspace and letting the airy, detached feeling take over for awhile. There was no thinking, no worry, no stress, there wasn’t anything at all and he wanted to stay there forever.

For a long while Tony works, dragging the felt tip of the marker he was using over Bucky’s sensitive skin. Bucky has no idea what Tony is mapping out or if he’s even making progress at all. The best he could do in his current state was identifying the occasional number if he concentrated but that was work. Instead he focuses on the feeling of the marker and Tony’s hands, noting when a new area of his back was used and the way Tony shifted to access it properly. That, and the occasional swipe of the cloth to clear his work and start over, drawing the marker over his skin again but writing out something new.

Tony shifting positions again was what drew him back to a semi state of awareness; his mind dimly informing him that Tony was moving but it wasn’t enough to draw any motion out of his body. He comes back shortly after though, running that warm cloth over his back again and kissing Bucky’s temple softly. He can feel Tony’s breath tickle his ear as some escaped hairs brushed against it but it takes a few more tries for Tony to hear Bucky’s voice. “There you go,” Tony says softly, “come back to me baby. You did so well today, so good,” he croons. Bucky sighs, wanting to cling longer but Tony calls his name again so he blinks himself back into awareness, the music from the background seeming so much louder now that he could properly perceive it. “That’s it,” Tony murmurs, “that’s what I want to see.”

Bucky makes a noise of protest, stretching himself out as much as possible without jostling Tony too much on his back. “Coulda let me stay down longer,” he mumbles at Tony.

“I could have, but it’s five in the morning and I figured you’d want to sleep,” he says.

It takes a few blinks to process that, “wait, what? It’s been five hours? How are you not sore?” he asks. Surely Tony’s legs cramped up long ago given the position he was in, especially after holding the position with minimal moving for so long.

Tony frowns and moves experimentally, making a face and groaning as he falls sideways off Bucky’s back. “My poor legs,” he mumbles, “I didn’t even notice.” Bucky gives him a skeptical look but he shifts his position, stretching out and finding his muscles pleasantly loose. He takes one of Tony’s legs into his lap and gently massages the calf, earning a soft moan from Tony. “You’re the best sub ever, seriously. I wanna keep you forever.” Bucky grins, his cheeks heating slightly at the comment but he keeps his focus on Tony’s legs.

“Did you end up figuring your math stuff out?” he asks sometime later when Tony’s legs were less tense and cramped.

“Yeah, eventually. I think this is the first time I’ve ever had a hard time concentrating on math,” he says. Bucky raises an eyebrow in question and Tony continues, “usually when I’m doing math it’s all I can focus on until I solve the problem. It gets to be an issue because that means I’ll stare at it for days at a time and forget to eat and stuff. But this time it was hard to focus past you, past the way your breathing was in sync with mine, the way you shivered when I touched you, the soft noises you made…” Tony trails off, heavy hooded eyes on Bucky, tracking his movements. Bucky flushes, ducking his head and Tony sits up, titling his chin back up, “you were amazing, Bucky. Fucking amazing.”