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Language:
English
Series:
Part 2 of Just One of those Things
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Published:
2016-01-28
Completed:
2016-02-24
Words:
9,315
Chapters:
6/6
Comments:
37
Kudos:
378
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20
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6,204

Anything Goes

Summary:

James and Tony are still feeling each other out (so to speak) and dealing with their checkered pasts. Set after the events of A Quiet Spree and more a collection of vignettes than anything with an actual plot. Some angst/emotional turmoil, but it all works out. Eventual smut (last chapter).

Chapter Text

As James woke, he was a little disoriented. Sunlight was streaming into the room from the wrong angle, the bed was large and soft and.... oh. Apparently his subconscious was one step ahead of him; another body in bed was not a threat - was instead, welcome. Quite welcome.

Tony looked younger in his sleep, somehow. Perhaps it was because his mind wasn’t running hell bent for leather, as it appeared to be doing during every waking moment. James resisted the desire to run his fingers through Tony’s sleep tousled hair, or kiss him awake. The man needed as much sleep as he could get ... and then breakfast in bed.

Unfortunately the penthouse kitchen wasn’t stocked with breakfast items; not much other than frozen dinners and condiments in the icebox, the pantry was pretty bare, and the coffeemaker looked much too complicated to even attempt. So after a quick trip to the can, he pulled on his pants and shirt from the previous night and took the elevator down to the common area.

And of course Steve was there, with his usual gigantic bowl of some healthy-looking cereal. He’d apparently already run his morning half-marathon, as his hair was still damp from a shower. James suddenly regretted only having washed up briefly in the sink.

“Didn’t expect to see you up this early.” He caught the mischievous glint in Steve’s eye, and wasn’t quite sure what to think. Not feeling up to actual conversation before coffee, he nodded and mumbled a greeting. Bless Steve’s buttons, there was a full pot already in place. And he didn’t even drink the stuff.

Once he had some java in his system, he felt a bit more human. “Thought I’d rustle up some breakfast - the kitchen upstairs was pretty bare.” He went in search of yet another modern marvel - frozen waffles. He hoped the toaster would be cooperative; he wasn’t in the mood for a half-burned or far-flung breakfast. He still couldn’t believe they’d named the damned thing.

“Huh.” He recognized that grunt - it meant Steve had been rolling something around in his mind and the pieces had finally fit together.

“What was that for, Steve?”

“I just remembered that weekend R&R we had in Edinburgh, late in ‘43. You disappeared after we spent the evening at the pub, and didn’t show up til next morning. We all figured you found a bonnie lassie to keep you warm that night. But it was one of the RAF boys, instead... wasn’t it? That gunner.... what was his name?”

“Ian.” He remembered soft brown curls, and softer lips. A brave and gallant boy, now lost to the ages; like so many others they had known. He knew about Peggy, but hadn’t yet been brave enough to ask after any of the Commandos... or his own sisters.

He selected, washed and cut up some fresh fruit, plated the waffles and added liberal amounts of both butter and syrup before covering them with another plate. As he poured the majority of the coffeepot into an insulated carafe, he asked, “What did you mean ‘be careful with him’, Steve?”, figuring his pal would understand the apparent non-sequitur.

“I.. um.... assume ... you saw the scars on Stark’s chest?” Steve actually blushed a little, and James realized that he was still trying to wrap his mind around him and Tony getting together. While he’d been relatively certain that Steve would understand, that it wouldn’t change their friendship, it had still been daunting. Especially considering the awkward circumstance in which he’d discovered that his childhood friend liked fellas as well as (truthfully, a bit more than) dames.

“Yes.... what the hell caused them, Steve? How’d he make it through?”

“Not my story to tell, Buck. But it’s a good place to start. Another bit of advice - don’t mention Howard unless Tony brings him up first. Apparently he wasn’t much of a father.”

That was something he knew a bit about himself. “Thanks.”

“So - what about telling the rest of the team about you two? Well, Nat probably already knows, even tho she’s halfway around the world at the moment.” Steve had a point; Romanova was the most observant of the bunch. But he wasn’t even sure what was happening between him and Tony, much less how to explain it to people he barely knew.

“Uh... better leave that to Tony.” They were his teammates after all. Although he had the impression Tony didn’t discuss things like that very well. He knew he was lousy at it himself.

“Fair enough. You’d better be on your way before the waffles get any colder.” Steve clapped him on the back as he went to rinse his bowl and put it in the dishwasher.

-----------------------

Tony supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to wake up alone. The penthouse was eerily silent, and once upon a time he would have been relieved; but not now. He’d hoped it had meant something... but at least it been nice while it lasted. Oh, it would be potentially awkward for awhile, but he knew how to put on a good face. But before he could really get down to feeling sorry for himself, he heard the elevator doors open.

“Time to rise and shine, boss. Brought you some...” James breezed into the room carrying a tray, then stopped short. “Tony, are you okay?”

“You were gone when I woke up, and I thought ...” he gestured towards the door and made a sad “whoosh” sound. James put the tray down, and slid into bed next to him.

“No.. no.. I wanted to get breakfast for you and the cupboards are bare up here... I honestly didn’t mean to be gone long.... I’m sorry, I should have left a note or something.” As he rambled, James had wrapped him in his arms, holding him close, comforting him. “I’m done with the running and hiding. I promise.”

Tony gave a huge sigh, partly in relief, and partly in realization that yes, he apparently still had massive abandonment issues resting on a hair trigger. Maybe caffeine would make things seem better. “Please tell me there’s coffee in that carafe over there.”

He both heard and felt James’ low laugh. “I figured that was a priority. How do you take it?”

“Like you, sunshine - tall, dark, hot and sweet.” James both blushed and rolled his eyes as he fixed a mug for Tony. He was only about halfway through his first cup before James had uncovered the plate full of waffles. The heady scent of butter and maple syrup wafted into the air.

“I see you found the good stuff - worth the trip to Vermont. Hope you like it.”

“This is for both of us, boss.” James cut into the waffles, spearing a piece with a fork. He made as if to hand the utensil over, then instead offered the bite of waffle itself.

“Yeah - I’m good with the coffee. Don’t normally eat breakfast. Go right ahead.” He wasn’t quite sure exactly what was going on; afraid he was reading too much into the situation.

James then arched an eyebrow, replying, “Take it - I’m pretty sure you worked up an appetite last night.” So he accepted the proffered morsel, which was actually pretty delicious. After several more shared bites of waffle, James moved on to the fruit bowl.

“Who told you I’m a sucker for blueberries?” As James continued to proffer various fruit bits (some of which he didn’t even recognize) Tony commented, “Never thought a dom/sub scene would be so nutritious.”

“It’s... it’s not like that.” James went still, then folded into himself.

Tony mentally cursed his flippant remark; he had a knack for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Trying to mitigate the damage, he gently asked, “Can you tell me what it is like?” He remembered answering similar questions himself during his (brief) stint in therapy, and it had helped, a little.

“It’s just... it’s not a sex thing, not really. I wanna take care of my friends; watch out for ‘em. Like I used to do for Steve, back then. Feels good to help out, be useful.” There was a long pause. “They took advantage of that, Tony.” James said quietly.

Again, he had no doubt of who “they” were, and it made him sick. He slid his hand slowly across the blankets, toward the other man. “James, may I...?”

James took his hand, held it for a moment, then shifted to lay his head in Tony’s lap. He then moved Tony’s hand on to the back of his head. He took the hint and started stroking James’ hair.

Rogers had once described the old Bucky as “50% loyalty and 50% sass”; and Tony realized he’d just been given a privileged, precious insight into that steadfast loyalty. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that, James. I’m sorry I said something so thoughtless.”