“I’m moving in with you.”
Well, that was not what Tony had expected Bucky to state in their post-sex bliss. A breathless “oh my god” or even an awed “hot damn, my fella’s a sex god” would have been acceptable statements, but apparently hours of fantastic, mind-blowing sex had a different effect on James.
In response to his words, Tony tilted his head from where it lay resting on James’ muscled thigh, no longer relaxed by the scratching of thick flesh-and-blood fingers running through Tony’s sweat damp hair. He frowned. “Isn’t this something people usually discuss beforehand?”
Bucky was frowning but his eyes were relaxed and happy, and there was a spark of amusement in his gaze which made Tony's heart sing. It eased the knot of tension in his stomach enough that he grunted with displeasure at the sight of metal fingers wiping themselves clean on very expensive sheets. Very expensive, high-quality Egyptian cotton sheets. James flicked him on the nose, and he heaved a contented sigh when Tony threw himself across his chest in retaliation. Strong hands cupped his hips and a stubbled chin brushed the lines of Tony’s forehead.
“We’re discussin’ it now, aren’t we?” Tony pinched his nipple. Bucky kissed his temple and continued on with a grin, unperturbed. “Steve’s been hintin’ at it for a while now. I figure he wants to ... entertain people.”
Tony snickered into the skin of Bucky’s muscled chest, and planted a feather-light kiss to a jagged scar by his collar bone. “Meaning he wants to fuck Wilson without you walking in on them.”
“Meaning he wants to fuck Wilson without me walking in on them,” confirmed Bucky.
“Wait, why are we so sure it’s not Wilson doing the fucking?” asked Tony, rearing his head back the way he so often does when a new idea strikes. Had he not looked so cute Bucky would have thrown up on him. “Steve seems like a bit of a power-bottom, if you ask me.”
With a fake gag, Bucky said, “There was a reason I didn’t.”
“James, sweetheart, dearest, love of my life, you watched him fuck me not even - how long ago was it, Friday?”
“Three months ago, boss.”
“-three months ago, and you seemed to really enjoy it at the time."
Bucky, with a roll of his eyes, bit Tony’s ear playfully and pulled at it with his teeth, strong and white and perfectly straight. Tony whimpered, low and sinful, and Bucky tightened the grip of his metallic hand on Tony’s hipbone and then slowly trailed it down south.
“True,” he murmured, voice wet, practically dripping with arousal against Tony’s cheekbone. “But you made such lovely sounds, Tony. You looked like you were made for it; writhing on expensive sheets, moaning so prettily, begging to cum. Take that away and all I got is Steve’s pasty white ass, and I’ve seen it too many times for it to make any lasting impression on me now.”
Tony, with an audible gulp, croaked, “He’s got a nice ass, though.”
Bucky snorted. “You sure seemed to think so. Steve told me the marks stayed hours longer than he expected ‘em to.”
Tony twisted his nipple again, but James caught a glimpse of his bright-red cheeks and self-satisfied smirk and his chest swelled with so much fondness that it was hard to be annoyed.
“Plus,” said Bucky after a moment of silence. “I opened a tin of cookies yesterday and it was filled with sewing supplies. That was the last straw. He doesn’t even sew!”
Tony’s cackle of gleeful laughter left Bucky grinning. With gentle movements, Tony was pulled impossibly closer, until their noses brushed with each bout of laughter. When the cackling subsided to soft, breathless giggles, James kissed him firmly on the mouth. Tony was so beautiful to him, no matter what state he was in, but he damn near took Bucky’s breath away each time he laughed. Bucky had to kiss him every time. Tony didn’t mind in the slightest. They pulled away in unison, out of breath but not from the kiss. Tony brushed strands of James’ hair back, ran his fingers through it as if it were the finest, most delicate of silks and not Bucky’s knotted, two day old hair. Strong fingers, calloused from pulling too many triggers, taking too many lives, were gentle as they gripped Tony’s chin and guided their lips together again. It was a delicate kiss, and Bucky hasn’t had much experience with delicate things but Tony - beautiful, strong, stubborn and too smart for his own damn good - had trusted him with this; with his heart, strained and struggling as it is and yet so strong; with his mind, overwhelmingly gorgeous but one of the most dangerous weapons James has ever seen in action; and with his body, scarred and small and broken as it may be but still real, still breathtaking in its own right. Tony, small in height but never in presence, trusted Bucky not to judge nor protect these delicacies, but to love them with all his might - and by god, did he love them.
“You mean everything to me,” whispered Bucky, and the effect was instantaneous. Honey whiskey eyes softened, the crows feet surrounding them smoothed out, and for a fleeting moment Tony appeared as though the shocking truth of those words had pierced his heart.
“Move in with me,” he breathed. “I love you.”
James studied him, counted Tony’s unusually long eyelashes and admired the salt-and-pepper shades of his goatee, and he nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
“Yeah?”
Soft, rosey pink lips pulled up into a hesitant smile. Bucky traced the plump lower lip with the rough pad of his thumb, transfixed by the heat of Tony’s breath against his skin. His own smile, bashful and true and reserved only for the man in his arms, formed on Bucky’s face. James flicked his eyes up, past sweet lips and the gentle curve of a nose, and looked into those eyes that held so much hope and love.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’ll move in with you, Tony."