Chapter 22
“My favorite thing about your newfound fame is all the memes I can make of you,” Natasha tells him, grinning.
Bucky groans, “you’re the one making all those ridiculous memes of me?”
“Okay but that one where you respond to everything with ‘yikes’ is hilarious,” Tony says. Bucky sighs and accepts that now people thought he was the funniest thing ever. He wasn’t, not at all, and his ‘yikes’ response was to some reporter who thought ‘well aren’t you worried Tony isn’t a real Dom?’ was a good think to ask. Honestly there were some situations, he felt, that one could only respond to with ‘yikes’.
“Personally I like the more evolved single ‘yike’ better,” Sam says, grinning. Rhodey nods along with him and Bucky resigns himself to a life on the run in the pursuit of friends who liked better memes.
“That is true, the single yike evolution is definitely better than it’s original ‘yikes’. Personally I like that ridiculous picture of him with a backwards hat on and a shirt that says ‘suns out guns out’ because he wore it unironically and thought it was acceptable,” Natasha says, snickering.
“That used to be Steve’s, give me a break. I don’t even go to the gym, or like working out, or even looking at people work out,” he says, but then he remembers that time he was watching Tony do all that heavy lifting in the lab and technically it wasn’t working out but still. “Okay so that last bit is a little bit of a lie but still, Steve’s the one with the bad fashion, I just stole it.”
Tony squints at him, “you wear Steve’s clothes?”
“I’d wear yours if you weren’t six inches shorter and three sizes smaller. Plus I stole that years ago, the hat too. I don’t know why Steve ever thought he could pull off the frat boy look,” Bucky says honestly. He looked like a moron, a lovable moron, but still.
“Buddy, I hate to break it to you but you don’t do the frat boy look much better,” Sam tells him, eyebrow raised. Bucky is unsure if he takes a drink of the tea he had to his left as some sort of obscure meme reference or if he genuinely wanted the tea. He hazards a glance at Natasha, who seemed just as unsure about Sam’s maybe meme reference so he figures he’ll leave it. He still couldn’t believe Rhodey somehow managed to score a date with the guy, post therapy obviously. He’s been sent off to Riley too and he must make some good money from Sam’s referrals. It helped that the two were apparently very good friends.
“I thought he looked cute, even if I’m so planning on burning that shirt now,” Tony says. Bucky rolls his eyes at Tony’s jealousy, mostly because nothing would come of it other than some disdainful looks and maybe an annoyed grunt or two.
“You’re biased and also wrong,” Rhodey tells him.
“It was Sunday, no one dresses up on Sundays,” he says.
“Except everyone who goes to church,” Sam points out, ruining his life.
*
Bucky is trying, and honestly mostly failing to read his damn textbook. First off why he thought going back to school was a good plan he had no clue, second, if he had to read one more god damn word about World War Two he was going to throw himself and his text out the nearest window. Technically it was Tony’s idea and he had to admit that fulfilling his passion for history sounded like a good plan until he was stuck in class with seventeen year olds, no offense to the children. But they all looked twelve and they hadn’t gotten past the drinking phase yet so group projects were bound to be hell. Thankfully Bob, another classmate, had the same idea so they sort of ended up becoming sort-of friends.
His phone buzzes and he all but jumps on it, finding a text from Steve.
Remember me in HS?
Fuck I was annoying
How did I have friends?
Bucky snorts, shaking his head.
You didn’t
Only I was willing to put up with u
You were too Small, Angry, and Ready to Fighttm
It didn’t matter how low his chances of winning were, Steve Would Fight, and usually lose unless Bucky rescued his dumb ass. People pretty quickly learned to just leave Steve be so he could be an angry fifteen-year-old lil floof on his own. It got better in senior year when he calmed the hell down though he was still ready to fight at all times, just not so much physically.
What do those tm things mean?
Also fuck u
I was also your only friend
Loser
Oh as if. He had so many friends, well, people he talked to. He’d never speak to them now in part because they’d probably be wigged out by the ‘is a sub’ thing given that they all knew about his bio orientation. Boy had he been surprised when he had blurted that out to Tony one day, figuring it was a damn miracle someone hadn’t found out about it yet and Tony shrugged, handing him a bowl of cereal with instructions to eat it. The media, he was told, got ahold of that a long time ago but there was a lot Tony could do in terms of what did and didn’t get printed. Bucky had no idea that a person could even have that kind of power but he wasn’t complaining, he got enough criticism for existing without that too. Though he was still somewhat surprised at least one person from his past hadn’t said anything.
Fuck u back
Also if u don’t know what the tms mean ur too old
Fuckin geezer
He and Steve, at least, were on better terms even if he and Sharon were still trying like hell to avoid each other and Sharon was currently acting as his bodyguard. Sometimes he invited Steve to lunch when she was on duty just to watch them aggressively avoid eye contact. One of these days he’d manage to throw Peggy in the mix too just to see what happened.
We’re the same age
Wtf
Tell me what they mean
I’ll give you a cookie
Bucky considers texting back that Tony had better cookies but then he remembers his shitty ass diet of legumes and a slow death and gives Steve a detailed explanation so he got that damn cookie. Now to smuggle it into his mouth without someone ratting him out for cheating… maybe Phil would help, he and Tony didn’t much like each other.
“What are you smiling about? You’re supposed to be studying and I know you’re not smiling at any of the content involved in World War Two,” Tony says, sliding up behind him and pressing his hands into Bucky’s shoulders, gently massaging the muscle there. He’s careful to stay mostly away from the metal arm and Bucky is thankful for it.
“Steve doesn’t know that that trademark meme is, which means he’s clearly old and not hip with the kids anymore,” Bucky says.
“God, you should hear the marketing ideas for targeting millennials if you think that’s bad. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so embarrassed for another human as I have when listening to marketing strategies. It’s like they’re trying to market to aliens or something, like guys, the phone does cool shit and is durable, we don’t need emojis to sell it. You don’t even use them right, and god, you should have seen their faces when I told them there’s a right way to use emojis.” Tony shakes his head, looking properly embarrassed for his marketing team. Yeah, Bucky too. And technically he was too old to use them right so the fact that he was embarrassed was telling.
“Sounds like more fun than my studying to be honest,” Bucky says.
“It isn’t, I can assure you it isn’t. I hate the marketing team, and I hate the Board, and basically everyone else except the R&D people. They’re awesome and they make cool stuff and we blow things up together,” Tony says.
“Then you should get along with Phil better, he apparently blows things up all the time. Clint has fallen in love in all sorts of new ways since this spy business.” The absurd amount of time bragging about all things Phil Coulson was both endearing and annoying as hell but Phil liked the praise. The guy basically lived off of it, at least if he liked and respected the person. If not than they got one of those slightly wrinkled nose but still smiling looks he was so fond of doling out to people he disliked.
“Fuck Agent, he’s a stuck up asshat. But you need a break so crawl out of your study hole and get to the bedroom,” Tony tells him.
Bucky sighs and leans back against Tony, “I would love to, trust me, but I can’t take a break right now. I have too many things I have to jam into my brain,” he says, glaring at his text book in distaste.
“JARVIS told me that ten minutes ago you Googled ‘is history a real word?’ so I think you need a break. You still have a day before your first mid term and good study strategy means you take breaks. I have seven PhDs, I’m an expert in school, trust me. To the bedroom,” Tony instructs. Bucky could press his point and probably win but he was still unsure if history was a real word or if Google lied when it told him that history had an actual definition.
So he picks himself up and drags his ass to the bedroom so he could flop on Tony’s glorious bed. The fact that he almost falls asleep on the spot indicates how tired he is and he resists the urge to play Tony’s voice saying ‘I told you so’ in his head. “So what’re we doing?” he mumbles into the pillow.
“Nothing too strenuous for you, take off your shirt, all you have to do is relax,” Tony tells him. Bucky’s tempted to make a snarky comment about creepy pornos starting with the same line but he’s too tired. He follows Tony’s instructions instead, stripping off his shirt and going back to lazing around.
By the time Tony comes back to him he’s almost drifted off again but Tony making a dip in the mattress jostles him enough to keep awake. “Told you that you needed a break,” Tony tells him.
“Jerk,” Bucky mumbles as Tony runs a hand up his side, gently settling himself on Bucky’s back, straddling him.
“Shush and enjoy,” Tony says. It isn’t difficult, Bucky had no fucking clue where Tony learned how to massage people but if he ever found out he was going to shake the hands of everyone there. He relaxes easily under Tony’s touch and history starts to sound a little more real again, thankfully, because his entire major being fake would really suck.
Tony shifts some and Bucky hears the familiar click of a marker cap being removed, “what’re drawing?” he asks, curious.
“No clue, to be honest,” Tony says. Bucky tries to pay attention to the designs but he catches numbers and fuck that, he couldn’t do math ever let alone tired. He idly wonders what Tony is up to but he leaves it alone, at least until he recognizes the pattern Tony is drawing on his back. “Are drawing dicks on me?” he asks, half enthused half offended.
“Uh, schematics for dildos, actually,” Tony says. Bucky cracks an eye open to look at him over his shoulder and arches an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m drawing dicks on you,” Tony admits. For a moment he doesn’t react, but then the thought sinks in and he bursts out laughing.