The second time was less intentional than the first. Annoying Clint was a favored game of Tony's. And there was fish. Hamburgers were awesome. It was undeniable. A fact. Scientiffic law. Anyone who said otherwise was an alien. Of some sort. Technically, all the aliens that Tony knew at least liked burgers, even if most of them were stuck in their ways. Asgardians were a strange lot. So, while hamburgers were the best, fish was a decent compromise. Especially when he was furry and semi-aquatic.
This time, though, was not a deliberate, planned thing. It just happened.
Thor was visiting from New Asgard (or whatever wierd viking word they called it). Clint had elected to challenge the freshly minted king to a video game war. Tony and Natasha, like resonable, somewhat sane people, abandoned the common room immediately. Abandoning ship before they inevitably sunk with them, as it were. Steve and Bucky were not so wise.
Natasha had evaded the offering of companionship by strutting her way into an elevator and ordering JARVIS to carry her down to the sublevel training floor. Not Tony's idea of fun. Thus, he elected to absently wonder around, under the guise of scoping out his territory. Unbreached perimeters were good perimeters. (Tony steadfastly shoves away the various animal jokes Clint had planted in his brain. The man had a habit of embracing the unusual with an asenal of jokes. Tony would be a hypocrite if he called him obnoxious for it, but he really really was obnoxious.)
Tony was nosing around a relatively unused hallway, scowling at the floating dust particles and wondering about his state of the art air filtration system and whether or not he could make little flying cleaner drones practical when he heard noise. Steve's voice echoed down the corridor, calling for Bucky. Closer to where Tony stood, almost silent footsteps.
Turning from where he'd been glaring at the tiny specks of gross stuff (skin cells, pollen, dirt. So much gross) floating in beams of warm sunlight, Tony caught sight of the ex-HYDRA assassin. The man looked pale, weary. When he spotted Tony, he froze, twitching like he wanted to flee in the opposite direction. But that meant running into Steve, and evidently that wasn't an option. Tony could feel his ear twitch, could hear the increased heartrate. (Some part of Tony, something that sounded somewhat Clint-like, mused over how canine he'd been feeling today.) The man was having a panic attack.
The decision wasn't conscious. Instinct. Natural. One moment saw Tony-the-human staring at a very pale (somewhat sweaty, rasing pulse, signs. For an assassin, the man had a lot of tells) Bucky Barnes. The next, and a so-not-cool-with-this-situation Steve, saw a jet black wolf making himself comfortable on Bucky's chest. Tony huffed at the newly arrived super soldier, having tackled (gently, kind of) the previously arrived one to the floor and subsequently lying his entire sizable mass on the heaving chest. His loungewear, a band tee and somewhat pricy-oops-tailored jeans were in tatters around them.
Tony laid his head on his paws, nose nuzzled up beneath the very comfortable (who'd have thought) super soldiers chin. Evidently, his plan worked. Bucky was staring at the ceiling, clearly attemping to process the situation, miraculously no longer panicking. An glance at Steve showed the same blank-yet-incredulous stare, this time directed at the two on the ground. Clearly, Tony mused to himself, Clint and Natasha hadn't felt inclined to share their discovery. Interesting.
Shocking people was very amusing, he decided for what was likely the millionth time in his life. Though, he had to question why suddenly having an oversized wolf using him as a bed helped. And what set off his anxiety in the first place. Though, on second thought, he was pretty sure it was the dynamic duos fault. When in doubt, blame a blonde. Or something like that. He was still confused about the fact that Bucky is evidently okay with having a massive preditor on top of him. Totally less normal than Clint and Thor being idiots.
A faint chuckle distracted both Bucky and Tony from their thoughts.
"Honestly, Tony. I don't know why im even surprised."
Tony shot Big Blonde and Buff a glare. He had absolutely no idea what the man was refering to. Oh no, what if his unpredictability was becoming predictable. Was that it? Was he loosing his touch? He stood, shuffling his way off his bed (how hard would it be to get Bucky to agree to be his human furniture?). He had mischief to plot. And if he wacked Bucky in the face with a plumed tail? It was a sign of affection. For his furniture.
He left to the sweet sound of sputtering and cackles.
---
Bucky does reluctantly agree to be furniture.
Video game wars are banned from common areas. Repairs are becoming costly.
Tony accidently becomes the resident therapy animal. Clint had offhandedly joked about it while cuddled up to a black fox, the deep ebony only marred by a white circle of fur directly over his heart, still shaking from the lingering echoes of a nightmare. Neither of them slept again that night, but they were content to pretend until the sun rose and the need for coffee drove them into the kitchen. If Tony studied up on the training for service and therapy animals, that was between him and JARVIS. (And maybe, just maybe, the physical contact that came easier when he was furry helped him in exchange. The cold of vast, empty space wasn't quite as noticable when his furniture was warm and cuddly and didn't judge.)