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“Hey, guys, I’m gonna go check on Howard. He’s been gone a while. I’ll be right back.”
Bucky grunted at Steve’s words from where he was sprawled across a lounge chair, just close enough to the fire to spread a subtle warmth throughout his body. The man rose from his own chair, clapping Bucky on the shoulder as he passed and then disappearing into the house, leaving him and Tony alone by the fire. The boy shot him a look and burrowed deeper into the huge hoodie he wore.
“You know that means they’re gonna go screw, right?” He asked, and Bucky nodded, reaching down to bring his beer to his lips and take a lazy swallow.
“I’m aware, kid. But right now I’m drinking expensive beer, I’m relaxing by an actual firepit, and when I go inside to go to bed I’m gonna sprawl my ass across a king sized bed with sheets that cost more than a month’s pay. So I’m not really much concerned at the moment.”
“You’re not…hell, I dunno. It’s not weird for you? Because Steve’s your best friend?”
Bucky shrugged and dropped the bottle back down, settling deeper into his chair and looking at the boy who was leaning forward in his.
“Doesn’t matter. Look, punk, as long as your pops isn’t bending him over the kitchen counter while I’m trying to eat my pancakes, I don’t much give a damn what they do. Cuz they’re both, y’know, consenting adults.”
Tony glared at him and waved his arms around, almost toppling forwards with the wild motions.
“Would you let that go! Jesus, I don’t see the damn issue! Half the states in this damn country have a legal age of…son of a bitch.” Tony stopped suddenly and dove for Bucky, hands shoving inside the pockets of his jeans.
“Hey, hey, hey! What the fuck, kid?!” Bucky growled, grabbing ahold of the boy’s wrists and holding him at bay. They both froze when they heard the slam of a door and Bucky looked up to see that Howard had disappeared from where he’d been watching them. Seems like Tony had been right.
The boy in question was still struggling against his hold, straining for his pockets. Bucky shoved him back and Tony landed with a thud, huffing up at him.
“Let me see your phone!”
“Why? You’re a techie, use your own damn phone.”
Tony suddenly seemed to curl in on himself slightly, his shoulders hunching down and face tilting towards the ground. Bucky sighed and reached between his legs to pull his phone out from where he’d jammed it under one thigh. He held the phone out towards Tony who brightened eagerly and snatched it away, typing away eagerly. Bucky had the distinct sense he’d just been played but didn’t have much time to ruminate on it as Tony quickly shoved the phone back in his face, so close the web page he’d pulled up blurred from the proximity. He leaned back and shot the boy a harsh look before taking the phone and refocusing on the page.
Tony’d pulled up some government sight, and Bucky rolled his eyes as he skimmed over the page and the information listed.
“New York…age of consent…legal sexual definitions…” Bucky stopped after the last one, re-reading the sentence three times to make sure he had it right before starting to raise his head, a brow already arched.
“You’re kidding, right, kid? I don’t care if-mmpf!” He was abruptly cut off as Tony slammed their mouths together, hands reaching out to grab ahold of Bucky’s shirt almost desperately. Bucky fought down the immediate filth that filled his mind at the thought of those soft, soft lips somewhere else on his body and brought his hand up to push Tony away.
Regardless of NY’s laws that kissing wasn’t considered sexual contact and that it didn’t matter, the act still made Bucky squirm. He separated them and heaved a sigh when Tony whined like a puppy and tried to re-connect their mouths.
“Kid…Kid…Damnit, Tony, stop for one minute!” He finally snarled out, arm shooting out to drag the kid forwards and twist, pulling him onto the lounge between his legs, Tony’s knees hooking over his and feet barely brushing the ground. The sight made Bucky cringe even more and he kept one firm hand on the Tony’s shoulder to stop him from lunging again as he tried to regain his breath.
“Why in the hell won’t you let me kiss you?! It said right there that New York doesn’t consider kissing to be a sexual act with age limits. So c’mon, please?”
“No,” Bucky replied shortly, and Tony pounded a fist on his thigh, bringing Bucky’s head up to glare at his frustrated expression.
“Why not?! Fucking damnit, I’ve been good all day, I haven’t picked any fights! It’s just one little kiss, Bucky.” Tony cajoled, tracing slow patterns over Bucky’s shorts with the nail of his index finger. Bucky knocked the hand away with an impatient swat and shook his head.
“No, punk. I don’t care what the law says about how it defines sexual acts. Look down at the tent pole in your pants and then tell me this isn’t sexual for you.”
Tony tightened his hands, clenching one in his lap and the other on Bucky’s thigh. The man braced himself as the boy suddenly went incredibly still, like the pups their squad had kept on base did when they heard a noise in the night. Tony had something planned, and Bucky wasn’t sure what in the hell it was, but it wasn’t going to be good.
He got his answer soon enough when Tony abruptly moved, one hand coming down to cup Bucky through the fabric of his shorts and the rest of the little shit’s weight hitting him hard, tumbling him backwards as Tony brought their mouths together once again. For one moment, one stupid fucking moment that had Bucky cursing himself the entire time, he just let it happen. Let Tony’s palm grind into him, shooting pleasure up his spine, and even let his mouth fall open so Tony could taste the beer on his tongue.
Soon enough, he came back to his senses and fastened one hand around Tony’s wrist, yanking it away and turning his head to the side to separate their lips. Tony made a high, desperate sound and his mouth dropped to Bucky’s throat, mouthing at the skin and dragging another filthy curse from the soldier’s mouth. He grabbed the boy by the front of his hoodie and jerked him around, scrambling so that he sat on the lounge sideways and Tony was kneeling on the concrete at his feet.
Bucky kept a tight grip on the fabric and closed his eyes briefly at the sight. Tony looked…devastatingly beautiful was the only phrase that even came close.
Which, really, sounded like something outta one of his ex-girlfriend’s romance novels.
But the way the kid sprawled there with boneless elegance, lips swollen and red, chest heaving, one hand absently rubbing against the front of his shorts, made Bucky want to forgo all his personal rules and just ravish Tony right then and there. He let the thought linger for only a moment, swallowing hard at the idea of standing and yanking down his pants, ordering Tony to wrap those lips around him and suck. He would too, Bucky knew he would, and he’d probably moan like a slut while doing it.
He shoved the images away with a rough shake of his head and nailed the kid with a hard stare. Tony glared back, eyes full of the irrational teenage anger even if his hand kept a firm pressure on his dick.
“Get your fucking hand off your dick, little punk, and listen.”
Tony obediently dropped his hand to the side at Bucky’s snarl and opened his mouth to retort. Bucky held up his free hand and stuck his finger in the kid’s face.
“No. No, shut the fuck up and listen. If you can look at me, really look me in the eye, and tell me honestly that if I sat here and made-out with you, you wouldn’t try to get your hand on my cock, or on your own, then fine. I’ll do it.”
Tony let out a huff and crossed his arms, knocking away the grasp Bucky had on his hoodie. He turned his head away and looked over at the fire for a moment before slowly shaking his head. Bucky let out a sigh and settled backwards, fisting the lounge covering with a hand on either side of his hips and just staring at the kid. He’d be lying through his teeth if he said Tony didn’t consistently tempt him, staring at Bucky like he wanted to lick every inch of him, and strutting around with his swim trunks hanging onto his hips like a stiff breeze could send them to the floor.
But Tony was still a kid, no matter how he tried to act, and even if Bucky hadn’t had his own childhood ripped from him, he’d seen too many kids in rural villages overseas with haunted looks that flinched from everyone that touched them to be okay with doing anything until Tony could consent fully. Yeah, the kid was his foot-hold, but he certainly wasn’t his dick-hold, and Bucky would go to bed and fuck his own hand every damn night before he’d take a child to bed.
“So, never?” Tony asked, eyes still locked onto the dancing flames. Bucky sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“Not for another month, maybe longer. Shit, kid, I dunno. You’re dangerous, and not just because your dad could have me put away forever for fucking around with you.”
Tony narrowed his eyes and stood suddenly, stomping over to the bar on the far side of the pool and coming back with a bottle clutched in his fist. Bucky eyed the Johnnie Walker suspiciously, not completely sure the kid wasn’t about to just smash the thing over his head. Instead, Tony cracked the seal with a sharp flick of his wrist and tossed the cap at Bucky’s feet. He looked down at it with a blank look before realizing what Tony was up to and shooting daggers at him.
“You’re not gonna drink that, kid.”
“Who’s gonna stop me, huh? Might as well, maybe if I get smashed I’ll forget for five fucking seconds that nobody on this planet wants me.”
Bucky opened his mouth to ask what the hell Tony meant by that, already half-way out of his seat to grab the bottle the kid had brought to his mouth when Stark appeared next to the kid like he’d teleported there.
“What the fuck?!” He hollered and Tony, startled, let the bottle slip from his grasp, shattering on the concrete. Bucky settled back down just as Steve came hauling out like the house was on fire, eyes shooting between the three of them before settling on the shards. Stark and Tony began yelling at each other and Bucky tuned them out instinctively, lest Stark turn into someone else, someone in a beer-stained wife beater reaching for his throat.
He came back to when silence suddenly fell and whipped his head up in time to see Tony turn tail and take off. Howard spun and Steve called out for him but these were all distant things that barely got past the haze as Bucky shoved himself up and took off after the kid. He was running on pure instinct as he hopped the fence and shot down the beach. His feet were stable on the shifting sand, his heart beating a fast tattoo against his ribs.
Somehow, someway, that idea of that little shit getting hurt or disappearing filled with him a fear he hadn’t felt since he’d had the muzzle of a gun pressed to his temple. Maybe it was affection, maybe it was Bucky remembering what had happened to him the one night he’d ran to the streets for solitude and halfway through the night, choking and coughing up bitter semen, decided at least at home he could wash down the cum with food and clean water, instead of bile and more drunken frat boy cock.
He reached out a hand when he got close enough, snagging the kids arm and yanking him to a stop. Tony struggled, but Bucky was used to subduing men twice his size and easily blocked the swinging fists and sharp thrusts of skinny elbows. They struggled for a few moments before Bucky snapped at him.
“Tony! It’s Bucky! Stop fucking swinging at me! If you break my nose, I’m gonna shove a handful of sand down your pants. And I don’t gotta tell you that shit chafes.”
Tony calmed in increments, finally letting the fight go out of him with a sob and collapsing against Bucky’s chest. Bucky stood there solidly, running a soothing hand through the boy’s hair as he sobbed and clung to his shirt. He felt an answering ache in his own chest at the pure pain in the sounds Tony tried desperately to bury in the cloth, wishing he was like Steve, who knew just what to say in every situation to make everyone feel better. Instead, he stood there like an idiot, murmuring soothing shit he remembered he’d wanted someone to say to him when he curled up under his covers and cried.
Eventually, Tony lifted his head and scrubbed at his face, whole body sinking in exhaustion. Bucky caught hold of the kid’s chin with two finger tips and lifted it until their eyes met.
“Wanna tell me what that comment earlier was about?” He asked and Tony dropped his eyes to where he’d stained a large wet spot on the front of Bucky’s shirt, keeping his gaze there as he answered.
“It just…I knew my dad never wanted me. I used to hope, as a kid y’know, maybe if I worked harder, tried to be around him more, maybe I’d grow on him like a fungus or something. But that never worked and when he and my mom divorced I got even less attention. So, whatever right? Like you said, every spoiled shit’s got Daddy issues. But I…I called my mom today. Asked her if she’d found a flight to have me come stay the summer with her. And she said no, which is believable, European flights have wacky time schedules. But we’re about to get off the phone and I hear some guy in the background go ‘honey, we’re due at the ski lodge in an hour for drinks.’ She hung up so fast my damn ear started ringing. She’s not in meetings in Europe. She’s fucking around with some guy, having drinks and laughing it up and she doesn’t have time for some fuck-up tagging along behind her.”
Bucky held him close after the monologue, running hands up and down his back in slow patterns. He gritted his teeth at the shit Tony’d had to go through. Too much attention from Daddy wasn’t stellar, but no attention at all could be just as emotionally damaging. Stark and his whore ex had fucked up Tony for life with their shit, and all he did to deserve it was be born.
No wonder the kid was so damn clingy to Bucky.
“I just…why…” Tony choked off another sob and Bucky tilted his head up once again.
“Why what kiddo?”
The next words Tony whined out on a breath made something in Bucky, something that he thought had been ripped out by torture and evil deeds done under the hot Arabian sun, crack in half.
“Why doesn’t anybody want me, Bucky?”
He groaned and lowered his head, cursing himself the whole while, and laid a gentle kiss on Tony’s lips, clutching the boy tight. Tony’s hands fisted in his shirt as he desperately returned it, trying and failing to deepen it. Bucky wasn’t ready for that just yet.
He pulled back after a short while and rested their foreheads together, letting Tony pant in the air between them before answering.
“Their fucking loss kid. Somebody wants you.”
Tony scoffed at the words and turned his head away.
“Yeah, right. In my dreams maybe. Not too hard now to understand the need to belong to someone, right?”
Bucky sighed and reached up, fingers slipping under his collar and pulling his dog tags off his neck. He slipped the chain around Tony’s, pulling the kid’s hoodie forwards and dropping them down the neck so they settled against Tony’s bare skin. Once he was done, he pressed a finger into the tags through the fabric and stared into Tony’s wide eyes.
“I want you. You’re mine, kiddo.”
Tony shuddered all over and threw himself into Bucky’s arms once more, nuzzling into his shirt and almost collapsing as all the fight went out of him at once. He held the boy up until he pulled back on his own, before wrapping an arm around his shoulders and guiding him back to the house. Bucky pulled the gate open for him and gestured for him to go first, shutting it behind them and following him up the path.
He watched as Stark rushed Tony, feeling a dull ache at the words he’d desperately prayed someone would’ve said to him. Bucky didn’t let his eyes linger as Tony trudged inside, shaking his head at Steve’s odd look when his eyes caught Tony’s neck. He’d approach that later, once he was relaxed and had some nicotine in him. He’d just lit up and inhaled hard when Stark’s words breached his brain, the rage in his tone bringing Bucky’s head up like it was a ripcord. He’d never heard Stark sound so pissed, even when Bucky had basically told him he wasn’t fucking worth Steve’s time.
“He knows. Goddamnit, Tony fucking knows.”