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Bucky awoke slowly to the background rumblings of Tony muttering to himself in the bathroom.
The solider stretched his arm out blindly across the bed and confirmed that Tony wasn't there before reaching to shove his hair out of his face.
Holding his hair back half-heartedly he turned to look at the clock and see how much he had slept in by if Tony was awake before him.
Unless the inventor had stayed up all night again- no, Bucky remembered squishing the smaller man to his chest last night before drifting off.
He pushed himself half-up when he registered that the clock said 0700.
Did Tony have a meeting today?
No, he'd been crowing in victory that for the next two weeks all Stark Industries meetings had been cancelled- something about holidays?
Strikes?
Zebras?
He had no clue.
He did remember that Tony had been excitably planning things for those two weeks including a visit to a new restaurant that did Carbonara pasta burgers or Carbonara pizza or something.
Tony's favourite foods, although if asked he would sniff and say something pretentious and fancy just to keep up the image expected of him.
A wicked smile pulled at the corner of Bucky's lips at that thought.
Steve and Tony could be similar in that aspect.
Letting the perceptions of others work for them and their goals.
Tony was almost flawless at it though, and, in the slow reflection that mornings sometimes grant, Bucky felt a pang for how the genius must have been so incredibly lonely before the Avengers, with very few people to see behind his facade, even fewer granted access behind it to the real Tony.
An eclectic, manic, big-hearted, dork.
Who had a terrible habit of talking to himself he mused, allowing the incoherent mumblings coming from the bathroom to filter through again.
He sat up, purposefully this time, rousing from where his head had decided to sink back into the pillows and cast a suspicious look at the clock, which definitely read 0707 now.
Curiosity won over and he swung himself out of the obscenely large bed he and Tony shared.
His prosthetic lay in its charging cradle and with a grunt he reached to grab it and slot it back into its place in his shoulder.
With his eyes rolling back he went through the usual calibration check, an expression on his face similar to that of those waiting for coffee to brew.
He deigned to ignore his bed-head fluff acting as hair at the moment and quietly stood with an ear out for more of Tony's early morning ramblings.
His curiosity was burning now so he slunk over a little towards the bathroom door.
He felt a little like a kid tip-toeing and huffed a laugh at himself although he didn't deny himself the child like joy of seeing what his boyfriend was up to so early in the morning.
Hopefully something he could rib him about and they could laugh about later when Bucky surprised him with a trip to the very restaurant he'd been yammering about.
The idea was only just beginning to curl into formation in Bucky's mind and he hoped he'd be able to pull it off.
Was it going to be an exclusive place?
Or was it going to be one of those little out the way places Tony sometimes favoured?
Would he need to schmooze his way into reservations as an avenger?
Pepper.
Pepper was always a good call during these moments.
He'd get it right with her help.
He situated himself leaning against the doorframe and listened with a smirk.
"Come on J, work with me here" Bucky could hear the scowl in his boyfriend’s voice.
"Apologies Sir but my calculations are correct"
"Yeah, what about my calculations" Tony replied sullenly and Bucky had to hold his laugh back in his throat.
"Perhaps you have failed to take into account the-
"Oh shut up J, I've accounted for everything. God, a week of goddamn fucking spinach smoothies and I still can't eat a stupid donut without it-
"It has been proven Sir that dieting with complete abstinence is only more likely to result in the eating of unhealthy foods when-
"Mute" Tony grumbled impatiently.
Bucky's brow furrowed.
Dieting?
His head ducked lower as if to situate himself at Tony's height to better hear the man on the other side of the door.
"No goddamn restaurant then" The muttering continued and a squirmy feeling in Bucky's stomach started with pangs of sadness at the dejected tone of Tony's voice.
He wanted to bulldoze through the door and grab Tony and tell him that there would be no diets or diet related thinking or denying of food ‘cause no-one had the right to make Tony feel bad about himself.
Tony was perfect.
And Tony loved food.
Tony deserved all the food he loved always.
He was rifling through his memories to see if there had been any magazine articles designed to make the billionaire question himself and his shape, or if there had been any incidents.
Nothing came immediately to light and Bucky resolved to go on a rampage to find out what had caused this, early morning grogginess blasted away by his righteous mission.
Then he made himself take a deep breath and calm down.
Step by step.
Rationality as opposed to instant panic and action.
Like his therapist had challenged him.
Right.
The smoothies.
He'd known about them.
Tony was a sucker for smoothies.
"Easy health food" he called them.
An easy way to imbibe vitamins and nutrients.
He always drank them between meals.
Meals.
There hadn't been any actual meals.
Or at least a large decline in them.
Every time Bucky had made his special (pasta) Tony had looked conflicted and guilty and told he'd already eaten at work.
Which was why he'd been so elated when it had transpired, he didn't have to attend any meetings for two weeks.
Because it meant he and Bucky could "Go check out that new restaurant, I deserve it I've worked hard this last month Buckaroo" Tony's rapid-fire conversation from yesterday filtering through his brain.
"I have had a month of no fun, no joy, no nothing and I am going to reward myself with some good honest to God real food"
Bucky had thought Tony's fixation on the restaurant and the fare it offered a little odd but had passed it off as Tony being a foodie and stressed from work.
Tony was a stress-eater after all.
Bucky had to stop himself from snapping his fingers at the realisation.
Stress eating and yet there had been no donuts!
He straightened up triumphantly.
There had only been one donut and Bucky knew this because when he and the Avengers had been milling about the kitchen at lunch time Tony had wandered in with a look of extreme concentration and had opened one of the numerous cupboard doors to pull out a donut wrapped in cling film.
Steve had raised an eyebrow at the odd, almost secretive placement of the donut but the glare Tony had shot him as he carefully unwrapped it had sent Steve back to his eggs.
Until he'd bitten into it and moaned so loudly that everybody looked up.
Bucky remembered chuckling at the engineers pinkening cheeks contrasted by his almost defiant stare of "I dare you to say something"
When he himself had spoken.
Muttering "Stressed" before walking out the kitchen.
Bucky thought it was cute that tony was a stress eater, in fact enjoyed cooking comfort meals for him to delve into as he ranted about whatever was bothering him.
It was much healthier than the inventing binges or alcohol-soaked evenings of old.
Tony was happier.
Healthier.
Had admitted as much a month and a bit ago when they'd been sitting in the sun after a drive.
Bucky remembered nodding and agreeing, smiling when the movement had jostled Tony in his arms.
Remembered how perfectly the engineer fit there.
The press of his back along Bucky's front, his head a warm weight against his shoulder, sunglasses pushed back into his hair where it curled delightfully.
Bucky had smiled in amusement at Tony closing his eyes to ward off the sun in his eyes when he had sunglasses right there, but he knew the engineer had forgotten.
Besides, this way, Bucky could look at his face as much as he pleased without Tony trying to deflect his attention elsewhere.
He remembered appreciating the soft contours of his face, noticing the slightest of pudge along his jaw line.
The unresisting warmth of his stomach, soft beneath his t-shirt, something ridiculous about kittens and ducks.
He had squinted into the planes of blue in the sky unseeing, simply thinking about the body in his arms and how attractive it was to him.
The curves and olive skin and the squish of Tony's hips.
He'd then started daydreaming about the nuzzle-worthy flesh of his soft stretch of stomach when Tony had been wearing sweatpants the other day and how the shelf of his ass sloped flawlessly into his hips brimming over the waistband.
Bucky would have been happy to sit there with Tony in his arms forever, daydreaming about the delicious curves of his body until he worked up the energy to do something about the semi in his pants.
However, Tony had noticed and had squirmed in his lap.
"You thinking about my ass again Barnes?" He'd teased and Bucky had nodded.
It was close enough to the truth and Bucky hadn't been sure how to tell him that he liked his softer frame without insulting him.
Bucky frowned.
He loved Tony.
Loved his shape, his petite frame, his softness.
Loved his everything.
Had gotten used to appreciating his curves from afar in the bedroom, merely glancing over them as opposed to worshipping them like he wanted.
He wanted so badly to squeeze and feel and nuzzle and nibble and essentially grope, he thought with a blush.
But he didn't.
Simply because he thought Tony would be offended.
Also, because he was also a little concerned that he was weird about it.
He couldn't help it, it just satisfied him to think about warm, soft curves.
Maybe satisfied was an understatement.
He loved to think about the solidity of Tony's presence, his simple presence in his softness, a manifestation of health and wellness and happiness and maybe Bucky was projecting his issues with food, what with coming from the depression era and all.
God knows Steve still had issues with food too, but, Bucky shook himself, no, this was something he'd always liked.
Could remember the first time his mouth had watered over Marilyn Monroe’s curves in a magazine he had no right looking through.
He blinked and half smiled remembering the burn of secrecy as he ogled the picture of Marilyn, loving the liveliness in her smile as it creased the curve of her soft cheeks.
The more obvious burn of his blushing face as he looked at her other curvy...cheeks.
Bucky was very much an ass man.
Through and through.
But it wasn't just the curve of Tony's ass that he was enamoured with.
Although he let the billionaire assume so.
What if Tony had noticed his weight gain since his reduction of alcohol intake and didn't like it?
Even worse, what if he thought Bucky didn't like it and that he was keeping quiet out of politeness.
Bucky had almost roused himself back to the state of wanting to bust through the bathroom door instead of standing outside it like a lemon.
But he made himself breathe and grounded himself before doing anything rash.
He was brought back to the present by the sound of electric buzzing which meant that Tony was shaving.
Bucky smiled grimly at himself in determination, satisfied with his deductions and noting that the whole Stop and Think thing that his therapist was pushing was actually quite helpful.
Was actually reminiscent of his time before Hydra when he'd been a sniper, used to waiting for the perfect combination of information and action.
Before the Winter Solider programming had fried his brain and made everything a Fight or Flight.
He shook that train of thought away before it got too cold around him and stepped into the bathroom.