Chapter 2
Bucky wakes up from a weird feeling of something being wrong. Almost like an intrusion of sorts. He opens his eyes, blinking a few times, hand reaching for his gun by instincts.
"Okay. You're not that bad I guess." Peter huffs, while standing right in front of him, a disappointed pout on his face and a permanent marker in hand.
For fucks sake.
"Wha?.." Bucky sits up and looks around, feeling totally disoriented for a moment.
Right. He and Steve stayed in Stark's house, sleeping in the bedroom next to the master's… all because he agreed to babysit-guard this little brat in front of him. Because of the threats, and – wait, where's Steve?! What's the kid doing in here?!
He opens his mouth and rasps out a different question.
"What's with the marker?"
"Wanted to draw a dick on your face if you didn't wake up first, but you're really good at this apparently." There’s pure regret in his tone.
"Thanks," Bucky scoffs sarcastically. "What time is it?"
"Seven. Stevie is jogging around the garden with Mark and Dum-E."
Of course he is. Bucky rolls his eyes, wincing and rubbing his face. It's too early for this shit.
"Come downstairs! Daddy's making his famous pancakes!" Peter is prancing over to the door.
Tony? Making pancakes? His imagination fails to create the picture. Definitely worth witnessing in person.
Peter lingers near the door.
"Don't tell Daddy I wanted to draw on you…" Peter pleads shyly.
Bucky snorts at the childishness of this.
"And why wouldn't I?"
"Cause we gotta be friends?" The kid looks up with that angelic smile of his. The glint of mischief can be seen a mile away though. "And also, snitches get stitches!"
With these words, he jumps out of the room, slamming the door and running downstairs.
Damn it. Bucky groans and falls back on the pillows. He'll need to sleep with his eyes opened.
***
The sight of shirtless Tony Stark, pj bottoms hanging low on his hips, cheek smeared with flour, flipping pancakes up in the air and catching them in the pan – it's now forever engraved in Bucky's head. As well as one of the best breakfasts he's ever had. It looks like a five star hotel buffet. Eggs, fruit, an arrangement of yogurts, a bread basket and, of course, the infamous pancakes.
Steve eats what looks like a pound of eggs and avocado toast, like a health freak he is. Tony picks fruit carefully, creating a well-balanced plate with a bit of everything. Bucky pours himself the biggest mug of black coffee he could find.
"Y'know," Peter mumbles while sneaking spoonfuls of Nutella from the jar. "You could just use the popcorn bucket."
Tony circles the table, snatching the Nutella away, smacking the back of the boy's head and putting a plate full of pancakes in front of him.
"You prefer me having my morning coffee, kid." Bucky rasps out, voice hoarse from sleep. "Trust me on that."
"Careful, Buck," a smile is dancing on Tony's lips. "See the wheels in that head turning? This was practically an invitation for him to bug you before coffee to see what happens. Right, sweetheart?"
Peter just grins mischievously, drowning the pancakes in whipped cream.
"My teeth hurt from just watching. It's too much sugar." Steve winces, looking at Peter from across the table. It only makes Peter slurp the cream up louder with a wet sound.
Tony points to the fruit platter, and the boy nods, immediately reaching out to grab a banana.
"Good boy." Tony all but purrs, making the kid's cheeks grow pink. "Okay then. Well, since someone already eavesdropped in last night and now knows everything, no point in dancing around it."
"Wasn't eavesdropping!" Peter scoffs, but Tony points a finger at him.
"No talking back. I'm going to show Bucky everything inside and outside, and yes, including all your secret ways to sneak out."
Peter glares up at him for that, stuffing his mouth with pancakes. Now he just looks like a grumpy chipmunk.
"Steve is going to play ball with you in the pool while we're busy. We'll both join and have some fun all together afterwards. How does that sound?"
According to Steve's face, he definitely didn't see it coming. Bucky smirks into his coffee.
"Fiiine," the kid drawls out and gives Tony cute eyes. "But be fast, Daddy! You're leaving as it is, wanna spend time together…"
Little shit knows what he's doing, batting those lashes and pouting that lip.
"I know, baby, I know." Stark coos at his boy, and Bucky would've never thought this man even knows how to make such sounds. "Let’s eat now though. And behave for Steve. Or else. Capiche?"
"Sì." Peter replies in Italian, apparently taught well by Tony.
***
The house tour is coming to an end with Peter's personal space – the gameroom. It has such a fluffy rug that Bucky almost wants to ditch his boots and go barefoot like Tony. There's also a big screen with Nintendo Switch and a variety of video games, shelves with action figures and comic books, a whole wall dedicated to Legos, and a massive fluffy cartoon stuffed animal on the floor. You would've thought this room belongs to a seven year old. There's even a basketball hoop and something reminiscent of a mini-ramp for skateboarding. Yeah…a spoiled seven year old.
Tony walks straight to the window, stepping on a Lego piece and cursing.
"Fuck – that little shit!"
Bucky immediately gets very content with his boots. He comes and peeks out of the window. They can't see the pool from this angle, but hear everything that's going on there – Peter's excited yelling, dogs barking, splashes and Steve's laugh. Bucky realizes that he's smiling only when Tony gives him a knowing look.
"Okay, so he usually sneaks out to the roof from this window." Tony rolls his eyes saying that, but there's an absolutely fond grin on his lips. "See that old apple tree? You can get on it from the roof easily…"
"And climb down to the ground. Smart," Bucky hums, looking over the lush green garden.
You can play hide-and-seek there and search for ages. He starts contemplating just borrowing a leash from one of the dobermans and keeping Peter in a harness.
"Exactly," Tony snaps his fingers and leads the way out of the room. "Don't let him stay here all night long watching movies and playing games. And eating junk. Actually, I'll give you his meal plan."
"With broccoli?"
"You got it. The kitchen staff will cook whatever you want by the way. They won't come in until later today because it's family time right now. "
"So, Steve was right." Bucky deadpans, following Tony into the hall. "I'm gonna be a babysitter."
Stark chuckles, stopping near another door.
"Don't tell Peter. He'll give you hell."
He opens another door, revealing a large XVIII century inspired office. A massive oak desk, cushioned leather armchair, walls covered in books – as if this space belongs to a college professor, not a mob boss.
"Now, look." Tony walks to the desk, opening the drawer.
There's a touch keypad inside of it. He taps in the code, and the desk surface goes up, showing multiple screens. Bucky sees Peter throwing the ball to Steve near the pool, the chef arriving and settling into the kitchen, dobermans digging a pit in the rose bushes. A cat walks by the street, passing the Stark's tall fence.
"Extended security cameras." Tony types the code back in, and the screens retract. "You'll get the combination. Just…in case, you know."
Bucky doesn't comment on that just in case part. He just nods. He'll keep the little brat safe here.
"Peter isn't allowed in my office on his own by the way. It's one of the rules."
"Too many important things?"
"That too. But mostly, there are too many dangerous things happening here." Tony gives Bucky a serious look.
They leave the office and Tony locks the door behind him.
"The kid is one hell of a fighter." Stark muses as they walk down the hall, stopping by the window. It overlooks the pool and Bucky sees Peter and Steve playing with a soccer ball.
"Those words about shooting someone in the head? They're not just words then? He's a true mafia kid, huh? I wouldn't want to get on his bad side."
Bucky watches as Peter prances around Steve like a literal puppy with a huge smile. It's hard to believe Tony's words while watching a scene like this.
"He can do violence and danger. The thing is, I don't want him to. He had too much of it as it is." There's anger and protective fury in his tone, but a hint of something else. Remorse?
"Too much?" Bucky nearly gives himself a whiplash, turning his head to Tony questioningly.
"The kid has history." Stark gives him a tight smile, but it's too sad and bitter. "Like all of us."
Bucky looks in the window again, Steve is giving Peter a piggyback ride. Like all of us. He doesn't even want to think.
***
They're coming down the stairs as Peter is running into the living room. Wet feet gliding over the smooth floor, the soccer ball bouncing in front of him.
"Baby!" Tony says sternly. "What did I say about playing ball inside?"
"I know what I'm doing, Daddy!" The boy kicks the ball, missing a huge framed mirror only by some miracle.
"Keep it up and you know what I'll be doing."
Peter glances at Bucky, turning cherry red, mouth curving into a sulking pout.
"Shut up…" Peter says it, bratty and embarrassed, clearly knowing he's pushing a boundary there. But he says it anyways.
Bucky's pretty sure his eyes grow three times their size. Tony's brows shoot up to his hairline.
"Watch who you're telling to shut up, kid." Tony crosses his arms. "Before Daddy's watching you squirming over my lap while I'm teaching you some manners."
Bucky expects Peter to get all sheepish, but, apparently, he's way too grumpy for that. Because the next thing the kid does is…Flipping. Tony. Off.
He realizes what he's done in a moment – stares at Stark, and then just bolts upstairs. Stupid move, if you ask Bucky.
Next to him, Tony lets out a growl and takes off after the kid.
"Come here you little shit!"
"Peter?" Steve jogs inside and looks at Bucky, confused. "Oh hey! How's the tour? The kid ran to fetch the ball, and…"
"And flipped Tony off." Bucky looks up, listening to the loud thuds. "If I'm not hallucinating."
Steve opens his mouth to say something, but there's a loud scream upstairs, clearly belonging to Peter.
"Someone got caught," Steve sighs and crosses his arms.
"...with the attitude, huh?!" They catch a bit of Tony's stern talking, and then the loud skin-on-skin smacks ring in the air.
Peter yelps.
"I'm sorry, Daddyyy! Owww it was, it was a joooke!!!"
More slaps, and Tony's voice is booming from upstairs.
"A joke, huh? If you wanna be a comedian, let Daddy teach you some slapstick humor. Bucky!"
Bucky looks up, confused, and steps closer to the stairs.
"Yeah, boss?"
"Go grab me a switch from the garden."
Bucky freezes, exchanging glances with Steve.
Upstairs, Peter begs.
"No, Daddy, no! Don't wanna be a comedian anymore, please no switch!"
There are a few long seconds of silence, only interrupted by Peter's whimpers and Bucky's own heartbeat. The kid's a brat, but a switch…honestly, he would feel too bad for him.
"Oh really, huh? Hmm…" Tony is humming finally, sighing. "Buck!"
"Yeah?"
"Abort mission. For now."
Bucky hears Steve's relieved sigh, not even understanding he lets out the same one himself.
Upstairs, Tony barks to Peter.
"Now, you. Ass up, no reaching back, and don't you dare move until I'm done with you. Capiche?"
There's a whiny:
"Yes, Daddy…"
And then – a succession of hard spanks, accompanied by cries and yelps and 'Daddyyy!!!'.
"This kid has no self-preservation instincts." Bucky grumbles, shaking his head. "Who in their right mind would ever flip the bird to Stark?"
"You have no idea," Steve sighs, wincing. "Welcome to this crazy family."
And just like that, for the second day in a row, something pangs in Bucky's heart again.