Freedom is Sweet

“Overall I think we can narrow it down to the genesis chunk of the primordial goop.”

“Inception code,” Friday corrects him, her voice sounding out of the speaker in Tony’s phone, lodged safely in the chest pocket of the jacket he threw over his shirt when he decided to give up on sleep and head outside. The thoughts in his head are still swarming like flies. Worse actually, like paparazzi, and Tony knows he might as well try to fly without a suit. 

So he’s followed some doctor's advice and gone outside for a walk, not exactly to clear his head, but to work through the swarm until he’s back to a comfortable five trains of thought, rather than fifteen. Chief of which are of course James and Natasha’s little hack.

James he can’t do much about at the moment, at least until he’s somewhat more ready to acknowledge the sudden feelings that had deigned it necessary to assault him once James had sat all hot and sultry and shirtless in front of him. And since Tony isn’t going to be doing that anytime soon, he’s working on the second most prevalent problem in his life, i.e. how a single Black Widow was able to get her hands inside of his baby girl.

“That part of the goop,” Tony continues, completely ignoring Friday’s requests for naming conventions not designed to make Tony giggle, “shouldn’t be vulnerable like that. Not to some paltry Widow code, and not to a USB stick hack.” 

Tony bristles at the idea when his phone buzzes in a pattern that means Friday wants to relay a message in private. Tony immediately presses an earbud into his ear.

“James is outside with you, Boss. He doesn’t know I am informing you.”

“Little snitch,” Tony teases with a smile while his mind skips back to track A without missing a beat. “Think I should go talk to him?”

“Unsure. He had some complications with sleep and is attempting to calm down. He is refusing my help, but my sensors assure me he is not in danger. I am unsure if he would appreciate company at the moment.”

“Thanks,” Tony mutters, leaving the earbud in but returning to talking out loud. “Do another sweep over that part of the code, see what could have been attacked to cause such a localised blindness.” He aimlessly turns onto another part of the path, wandering by the high beds he built with Peter and Harley in the summer. “I also don’t know how she would have even found that. Miles on miles of code, and she was able to pinpoint that exact section? Doesn’t sit right with me.”

Another turn in the path, and Tony almost runs into a solid wall he retroactively realises is made of James. Tony jumps and flinches back, using the movement to peel the earbud out of his ear.

“Christ, James, you can’t just spawn like that.”

“Sorry,” James murmurs, but Tony waves him off in favour of taking him in as much as the darkness of the gardens allow.

“You look like hell, James.”

James’ smirk sends a thrill through Tony’s heart, and if the former assassin appearing out of nowhere isn’t going to get Tony’s heart to give out, his smiles will.

“Way to sweet talk a man. You’re also still up.”

Tony sighs and gestures for James to follow him, turning to keep walking down the garden path, deeper into the darkness the further they walk away from the compound lights.

“Yeah, too many thoughts, too little time, you know how it is. Don’t get paid for sleeping.”

“Didn’t know you got paid,” James notices dryly and Tony laughs. God, it’s so freeing to laugh, and James gets it out of him so easily. Tony knows that his genuine laughs are rare. He has a dozen or so masks, each more elaborate than the next, and somehow James has become one of the few people that can slip by all of them right into Tony’s heart.

“Not really, no. Courtesy of Howard I never had to.”

James lapses into silence beside him and Tony leaves him to it for a few metres, leading them onto the path that circles the compound in a wide berth, one of the more popular jogging routes.

“Penny for your thoughts, snowflake?”

James chuckles. “Cheapskate.”

Another laugh startled out of Tony’s chest, tumbling away from him like dice. “Alright then. How much do you want? Tell me, James, what’s the going rate for a war heroes nighttime thoughts? Do you guys even work in money? How about a favour? Two favours of the illustrious Tony Stark for your thoughts, that sound better? How about—“

“A cup of coffee,” James interrupts Tony’s joking tirade. The simplicity of his request, of his voice brigns Tony up short and he stops. James stops with him, looking at him with an intensity that drives a shiver down Tony’s spine. “A cup of coffee with the illustrious Tony Stark.”

There is a soft accent to James’ voice, something that caresses the words as he says it, curls wonderfully around Tony’s name.

“Just coffee?” Tony asks, his voice betraying his racing heart. James looks stunning out here in the dark, his hair falling around his face and cutting sharp shadows around his jawline. His eyes catch remnants of the compound lights, shining a beautiful deep blue, and Tony realises he’s fucked. 

And then James smiles. 

Just a small lilt of his lips, but it sends Tony’s heart tumbling all over again. Oh god, he is so fucked. He hadn’t thought this would be possible again, not after Pepper, not after everything.

“For now,” James murmurs softly, and the tone of his voice punches a shaky breath out of Tony’s lungs. He swallows trying to look away, trying to maintain something like composure, something like professionality.

“James…” he whispers, his voice somewhere between pleading and hesitation, and before he can even figure out what he is actually trying to say, something in James’ face shuts down and he steps back.

“Fuck.” A harsh whisper, and suddenly James is turning away, moving to head back further into the darkness. Head towards the fence.

Tony moves before he can think, reaching out to grab James’ wrist before any of the hundred reasons why that is an extremely stupid move come to his mind. James freezes beneath his touch and Tony immediately yanks his hand back.

“Sorry. Fuck, sorry. Don’t leave. Please. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.” James almost sounds frustrated and whatever spell he had cast earlier to completely empty Tony’s mind of thoughts has been broken, a dozen trains of thought back in full force now.

“No, I just didn’t mean to touch you. No wait, that came out wrong. I should have asked. It’s not up to me to say when you can leave, you can do whatever you want. But just, don’t leave? Not right now. I did something to upset you, I get that, I’m an asshole most of the time. But please don’t leave mad?” He’s begging, Tony realises he’s begging, and just as fast realises that he doesn’t mind. He is so fucked. This is so so so dangerous. The last time he didn’t mind was with Steve. With the Avengers. With his team that left him for dead in Siberia.

“I won’t leave. I just… I shouldn’t be talking to you like this. You’re part of the New Avengers, and head of Stark Industries, you run the compound and do so much, all of the time. I shouldn’t be presuming… I’m sorry.”

Tony is only confused for a moment before his mind switches tracks again. “Rhodey and Hope run the compound, I’m just tech support and a wallet. And Stark Industries is Pepper’s baby more so than it is mine at this point, I look good and sign things.”

“You have to know you are so much more than that,” James interjects, and the sincerity in his voice bowls Tony over, striking straight past his defence mechanisms into something soft and raw.

“You’re not presuming, is all I’m saying.”

James scoffs, turning back towards the dark gardens, but not making any move to leave. Tony considers for a moment before deciding to throw all remaining caution to the wind for the moment.

“You seem pissed.”

James tilts his head back to look up at the stars and laugh, a harsh gruff sound that is painful and delectable at the same time. “Sorry. Promise it’s not you, it’s me.”

“Usually when people say that it is me.”

James sighs. “It’s not. You have been nothing but kind to me and I… I’m behaving like an idiot. I’m sorry. I dreamt and it’s been— It’s not leaving me.” James screws his eyes shut, shaking his head as if to shake the thoughts out before glaring down at his bare feet when it doesn’t work. Only now does Tony realise how underdressed James is for the cold October night.

“What isn’t leaving?”

James clenches his jaw, his hand shoved into the pocket of his jogging pants. “The touch. It’s— Hydra and doctors and handlers, all that, the usual. And then just…” He shudders before tensing up even further, controlling the involuntary reaction. “It’s something related to the… the panic attacks. I can feel it coming on. Adrenaline, my chest tensing, stab to the heart. But it’s all I can think about, it’s touch in my hair and down my—“ James’ jaw clamps down, his whole body shutting down.

“James?”

James shakes his head, drawing in a deep shaking breath. “I’m fine, it’s fine. Please don’t—“

“I’m not touching you, you’re okay.”

James nods tightly. “I just— Fuck, it’s so much. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You wont. Do you need me to go?”

“No, please. Can you keep talking?”

Tony pushes his concern aside with a grin. “Always and happily, snowflake. I’ve actually been meaning to run something past you.”

Tony lets his mind carry his voice wherever, mostly focusing on James. As he talks, the tension begins to drain out of James, first showing in his breathing, then in his body as he slowly draws himself out of his head until he is actively listening to Tony’s tale of his latest board meeting.

“Back with me?”

James nods, letting out a deep breath. “Sorry. I didn’t want to— You seem tired. Thanks for talking to me. I’ll leave you in peace, goodnight.”

“It’s dawn, James. I’m not getting any more sleep, and neither are you. I don’t know what’s going on, but Friday always says talking about it helps. So, talk to me? Or Friday, I don’t care.”

“You’ve got enough on your plate,” James tries to argue, but Tony knows when he has been given a finger and he pulls.

“And I’m supposed to be taking breaks. This is me, taking a break, spending quality time with a friend. Helping out, social interactions, you know?”

James chuckles. “If you say so. I’ve never actually tried telling this kind of stuff to another person. Well, Friday I guess.”

James glosses over it easily, but Tony knows this will be stuck with him for weeks. Well, Friday I guess. Another person. Everyone in the compound makes use of Friday, the same way the Avengers made use of JARVIS, but there are few people who actually talk to her like he does. And once again, James has effortlessly snuck onto the exclusive list of people Tony adores.

James, oblivious to Tony’s existential crisis, looks for words. “There’s this anger. I thought it was something else at first, hunger or pain or just plain old discomfort. But all those are gone now, you’ve taken them one by one, and this is still there.” James sighs. “I don’t even know if this anger is mine. I can explain it, I can count the scars and understand that what happened to me was wrong. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. It’s a fair thing to be mad about, I get that. But… how much of that is me?”

James swallows, shrugs as if this was nothing, just a casual chat at dawnbreak, and Tony knows he’s looking at the most vulnerable part James has to offer. “How much of me is an asset, a soldier, a sniper, a man dead twice over. Steve says he missed Bucky. I don’t want to be just Bucky, or the Winter Solider, or anything. I want parts of all of them, fucked as that, is but… I want to be just me. And I’m not sure me even exists.”

Tony hums thoughtfully before answering slowly.

“Look, James. We’re all a hundred different people. Look at me for example.”

James does so, his gaze heavy on Tony, and Tony has to force himself to hold his gaze to keep talking and offer that same vulnerability back.

“I’m a sarcastic smartass to the press and people I don’t like. I’m the food that my mother and Jarvis and Anna made for me as a kid. I used to drink whiskey because Howard did, back when I still had hopes he might be able to love me in a way I could understand. I wear blue a lot because Pepper likes it, and red because it’s not blue. We’re all the influence of a hundred different people.

“And you… well, I think you’re actually a little less than that. Maybe you can’t really make out you because they’ve burned away all the people that made you up. Left nothing but them, and even that never stayed. So now I get how it might just feel— well, lost.”

James sighs. “Lost is right. I– fuck, sometimes I miss not having to think and feel all this. ‘M not supposed to, I know. It’s just all so damn complicated.”

Tony chuckles quietly, turning to lead them down the path again. “I imagine recovering personhood is complicated, yeah. One of the more complicated things you can do really. Just know that you don’t have to do it on your own, okay?”

“Why? You’ll tell me who to be next?”

Tony bristles at the mere idea and shakes his head, aware that James is watching him like a hawk for any signs of lies. “Absolutely not, no. I meant more like, we can help you figure out who you are, who you want to be. You know, try yourself through the food we have here, work your way through every monstrosity the coffee machine can produce. See what you like, now, as the person you are now.”

Tony hesitates for a moment, but fuck it, he’s never been known for his caution, and even though he desperately does not want to fuck things up with James, he has always been a friend of risks.

“Try on everyone’s fidgets and speech patterns, see which ones actually help and keep those. Read the stuff everyone else is reading and ditch half of it when you realise Bruce’s romance novels are not for you. It’s not wrong to ask for help, it’s not bad if you work with other people’s recommendations. You don’t have to start from nothing.”

They walk in silence for a while, James mulling over Tony’s words and Tony trying desperately to keep his attention on the path ahead rather than drifting towards the man beside him.

“That helps, actually. Thank you,” James mutters softly as they round a corner, having reached one end of the compound terrain.

“Good. I don’t want to tell you what to do, but you’ve being doing really well so far. I know Friday loves you already and once the others meet you, you’ll have so many good people in your corner. And hey, I’m always happy to be a rubber duck for a bit, if you want someone to talk to.”

“Rubber duck?”

Tony grins. “My bad, programmer term. What I’m trying to say is that you can talk to me and I won’t judge. Just happy to help really.”

“You offer that to all new asylum seekers that come to the compound? I can see how you’re so busy all the time.” There is that teasing smile again, making James’ mouth something Tony wants to memorise, and he can feel his mind switching gears again.

“Nah, only the handsome ones,” he says with a grin.

“Handsome, huh? And I thought your taste was more refined than this,” James scoffs, gesturing at himself, still dressed in a too cold shirt and jogging pants. Tony turns to him with a gleeful spark in his eyes.

“What, than ice blue eyes, a jawline that could cut glass, and a voice to tame lions? I don’t see what’s not to like.”

Tony finally gets his revenge for earlier when James blushes, looking away directly towards where the morning sun is creeping through the woods surrounding the compound. The golden light catches in his eyes, and Tony knows that unless James blinks he wont be able to look away from this.

“Pretty words,” James mumbles, adorably flustered, and Tony smiles, still not really able to look away. Walk away. He takes a step closer, and those vibrant ice eyes land on him, stealing his breath.

“All true, snowflake. All true and then some,” Tony admits quietly as his eyes get caught on James’ lips, his eyes, his everything. And then James smiles, a small quirk of his lips, and Tony has to hold on to his self control with all his might.

“Must mean something then, coming from the illustrious Tony Stark.”

And something about that, about the way the James’ voice curls around his name, slams Tony back down to earth. He is Tony Stark. His heart sinks as his mind finally catches up to his mouth, as the reality of the situation begins to sink in. He stumbles back, wincing as James’ open flirtatious expression shutters closed.

“I can’t do this, James.”

James smiles. “Not to handsome in the light of day.”

Tony almost flinches. “What? No! No, I’m just… you live in my house right now, with nowhere else to go. I know you can take care of yourself of course, but still. This isn’t right.”

“Right.” There is a finality to James’ voice, and for all that he is the Winter Soldier, deadliest assassin on either side of the century, he hides his heartbreak incredibly poorly.

“No, James, please. I…” He hesitates, but there is so much at stake now. Now is not the time to be precious about his dignity. “I like you,” he admits, staring at the Stark Industries print on James’ shirt, anything to keep talking. “I’m so glad you’re still here. And I’m not saying no. I get what you’re doing and, uh… I’m not exactly opposed to this. Like I said, all true. Just…”

“Not until I’m free.”

Tony sighs. “Something like that, yeah. Free to chose at least, for yourself rather than just survival.”

James nods, his adams apple bobbing in his throat lined with the morning sun as he works around the words. “It’s not though. Not just survival,” he says quietly, his voice raw with emotion. Tony smiles, giving in to the impulse to reach out, giving James’ hand a squeeze before retreating back to keep his distance.

“I hope so. But there’s no rush here, snowstorm. You know where to find me when you’re ready, and you don’t even need the keys.”

Finally James’ eyes loose the hints of pain, a lopsided grin replacing it. “Are you asking me to break into your lab? Again?” And the teasing notes in his voice help to soothe the last of Tony’s nervousness.

“I am doing no such thing, I do not condone the breaking of laws. No matter how impressive you are at doing it.”

“Impressive?” James asks, the one word somehow both flirtatious and insecure at the same time. Tony looks at him, and maybe it’s the sunlight, maybe it’s that James still looks like he’s just been torn out of bed, but for a moment it is so so easy to see past all the Winter Soldier, past the beauty and the power and strength, and see a young man alone in a foreign time, lost and hurting and scared.

“I’m not scared of you, James.” Tony smiles, ignoring the impulse to shut up, to keep his soft insides to himself. “Bucky Barnes was my first crush as a kid, and what can I say, I have impeccable taste.”

Tony feels a blush rising to his cheeks, he really has no filter. But the blurt of embarrassment is worth the short laugh from James. 

“Not sure I can do that kind of charm anymore, doll, gonna have to disappoint you.”

Tony huffs out a laugh. “You’ve got charm plenty, don you worry about that.”

“Yeah?” James asks, a sly grin on his lips.

“Oh plenty. But I am obligated to warn you, Rhodey gives a mean shovel talk.”

That finally gets James to laugh, the full sound and Tony thinks he could dedicate a good bit of his life to that sound.

“I’ll keep it in mind. Though I think I’m safe for now.”

Tony’s heart sinks. “Oh?”

“I think you’re right.”

“Happens a lot, you’re gonna have to specify, snowflake,” Tony quips, hoping to hide his disappointment.

“I keep getting this whiplash. I– you… dammit!” James’ face screws up in frustration.

“Just keep talking. Rubber duck, remember? No judgement.”

James nods. For a moment his eyes roam the sunrise dipped gardens around them. He takes a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut, pointedly turning away from Tony a little. 

“You’re so beautiful and kind and smart, I just want to– I don’t even know. Talk to you, mostly. Every time you touch me like I’m a person, it doesn’t leave my head for days and I haven’t wanted something this much in as long as I can remember.

But it also sets off this fear. I can feel it already starting, when I’m this close, and I know in five minutes I won’t be able to breathe with it.” James’ eyes open, and Tony wonders at how swiftly he is able to deliver heartbreak to him, making it look like everything Tony ever wanted. “And you deserve better.”

“Okay, uhm, that’s a lot. Fist though, do you need me to go? We can keep talking, and I can be somewhere else of you want.”

“No, please,” James says immediately, and Tony ignores the relief those words send cascading through him. “I’ve got it under control. It’s mostly just frustrating, really. I’m finally free supposedly, no triggers, no record. And still I can’t do the one thing I really want.”

“Okay, wow,” Tony whispers to himself. James can just say these things, play with Tony’s heart like a knife, seemingly without any effort. “Is it the same as before with Steve?” he asks, trying to steer the conversation onto somewhat safer ground.

“I think so, yeah. It’s so strong, and I can’t really control it.”

“You can’t control a panic attack, snowflake.” God, if only.

James shakes his head, again creating that little crease between his eyebrows. “No, but I could always shut it down before. Steve hated that, back in Wakanda, before Shuri figured the triggers out.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound healthy at all. Hate to say it, but I’m with Steve on this one.”

“Beats all that anger though, or the fear from the dreams, or the fucking need to just get out. Better to shut it down than have any of them notice, than having Steve touch me.” He stops himself, and Tony gets to watch up close and James does exactly what he’s describing. The frustration on his face clears out, the tension that had begun building up in his body fades and when he opens his eyes, there is little left. “Sorry.”

But Tony dismisses his apology with a shake of his hand. “He didn’t ask?”

“What?”

“To touch you. He didn’t ask?”

“He should have asked?”

A few years ago he would have laughed at the idea that note bad decision maker Tony Stark might be able to spot a red flag, but the whole Avengers debacle had taught him a lot.

“Asshole,” Tony hisses, and now it’s he who’s purposefully unclenching his hands. “People always have to ask, snowflake. Maybe not with everyone, Harley for example is a glutton for touch. But you have about five miles of personal space around you, it’s not hard to see, especially with your history. He should have asked.”

James shrugs. “Maybe it’s because we’re friends he thought he didn’t have to.”

“Is he your friend?”

James sighs, looking out at the garden, at the white angles of the compound solidifying in the growing light of day. “He’s caused a lot of trouble for me. And he’s been taking care of me ever since Siberia.”

“Okay, those are things he did for you. But is he your friend. I don’t want to push you into anything here. Sure, I have my feelings and opinions on Steve, but that doesn’t matter here.”

“I don’t know, to be honest,” James admits to the sunrise.

“Do you miss him?”

“Not really. I should, shouldn’t I.”

Tony smiles ruefully, the confusion and pain in James’ face overshadowing any vindication that might have normally come with such an admission.

“I’m not telling you what you should or shouldn’t be doing or feeling, James. Just a rubber duck.”

James nods, and Tony waits for him to figure out his words. 

“I… When Steve looks at me. It doesn’t feel like he recognises me. It’s like he sees my face only for what it used to look like. And I’m not sure I can be what he wants from me.” He scoffs, his hand running through his hair in a gesture Tony recognises from himself. “Well, I could have. I guess that’s what the witch did, isn’t it. Make me what he wanted.”

“I think so, yes,” Tony agrees, and for once there is no satisfaction to being right.

“I get it though. He has to grieve everyone he’s lost, his mom, our friends, Peggy. A whole life.”

“And then it turns out it’s not all gone,” Tony continues, knowing this line of sympathy only too well. How much has he excused with exactly this reasoning? “Only you’re not charming dapper Buchanan Barnes anymore.”

“Exactly. I’m just me.”

Tony smiles. Just me. “For what it’s worth, James, I think just you is plenty. I’m sorry Steve isn’t seeing it, but you’re not some failed imitation of the man he used to know. You’re a whole person, and a pretty great one at that.”

James huffs out a quiet laugh. “You sure know how to sweet talk a man, Stark.”

“Just calling them as I see them, Winter Wonder,” Tony quips back gently and begins leading back the way to the compound towards breakfast.