#you indulged so much and now you’re too helplessly round to deny it even if you tried

[soft-char]

something so precious about a sweet boy not being able to suck in their belly anymore. they’re just too stuffed after a big meal, sated and happy but a little embarrassed about how much their tummy sticks out, how heavy it rests in their lap.

and if you tease them, poking an accusatory finger into their pudgy stomach, they can try valiantly to suck it in and feign innocence, but the fat little mound of their belly barely budges, they’re just too full to hide how big their appetite is and how chubby they’re getting because of it.

[veraynes-blog]

If you feel like it could you do Tensimm 6 or 7 for the cuddle prompts? I love your writing

6. For warmth

7. For comfort

This is the most delayed response ever, I'm so sorry anon 😭 This was for the long-ago Cuddle Prompts I was doing. It took a while to be back in the mindset, but hopefully it's still of interest.

This is technically just cuddling, but like... slightly sexy cuddling. I hope that's okay. 😶

~

The Tardis is still exactly where he left it.

He hadn't been expecting that, honestly.

The Master frowns at the blue box, breath misting in front of him as he stands shivering in the remnants of his coat. The ship is still ensconced almost out of sight down the tight alleyway where he'd made his escape from the Doctor's hospitality almost three days ago now. More than enough time for him to have taken the alien city, if he'd really wanted it. The Doctor would have known that, should have come to stop him.

Only he hadn't, and the Master had spent his three days' impromptu shore leave slumming aimlessly round the lower levels, debating with himself and growing increasingly frustrated. He'd had some half-formed idea of commandeering another ship at the port, but no real destination in mind. He'd played with the thought of making a real bid for control, delivering a blow that would have shattered the frozen city like glass so he could pick through the shards at his leisure. But somehow it had seemed a lot of effort for little entertainment value, when he was the only one playing the game.

In the end he'd been lazy and petty, spending his hurt feelings on bar fights and low-level chaos in the poorer sectors. Enough to have drawn the notice of anyone paying attention.

But apparently no one had been, because not once had the Doctor come looking for him.

He seethes resentment as he glares at the Tardis, conspicuous and infuriating in how little it's moved. Would it have been worse to have slunk back here and found it gone entirely? Or is it more humiliating to realise the Doctor seems to be patiently awaiting his ignoble return? He supposes it doesn't matter. Not like he finds himself with a surplus of options.

He crunches through the last few feet of filthy snow towards the Tardis. The door opens easily enough at his touch and the Master slips inside. He finds the control room dark and silent, and hardly much warmer than the icy street outside. His breath still mists visibly in front of him and he shivers slightly in the damp, ripped clothing he's wearing. He picks his way past the central column and along the walkway, familiar with the layout even in the dark, leaving a pair of scuffed leather gloves discarded atop a console as he passes.

The Master trails along the dimly lit corridors of the Tardis. The layout has shifted somewhat in his absence, but he keeps his destination in mind and brushes a hand against the wall as he walks, until a softly pulsing strip of lights illuminate the correct turnings. It occurs to him to wonder at the Tardis's uncharacteristic cooperation, but for the moment he'll take what he can get.

He shucks his sodden wool coat as he goes, letting it crumple carelessly to the floor behind him. His suit jacket joins it after a few more meandering steps, and then he really is shuddering as a chill creeps through the thin, wet material of his shirt. He clenches his teeth, hands flexing restlessly at his sides.

He's expecting to have to hack the security lock barring the Doctor's bedroom when he gets there, and isn't quite sure what to make of it when the door slides open for him without issue. Warmth seeps from the room, and he sways toward it without conscious thought. The lights are out in here as well, and the air smells of sleep and familiarity. He's not sure he belongs.

The other Time Lord is curled on his side in the centre of the mattress, not stirring at his presence. The Master cocks his head, regarding him narrowly for a few moments.

He scans disdainfully across the messy floor, then picks his way across the room and tries to ignore the vague sense that he's intruding. Movements stiff, he sits carefully on the very edge of the bed, barely willing to rest his weight. Even so, he feels the exact moment the dip of the mattress wakes the other man. Something comes alert in the dim room, the prickle of attention sharp against his back.

"You came back."

The voice emerges low and slurred from the nest of covers behind him, faint disbelief evident in the words.

The Master glances down, plucking at a loose thread in the sheets. "You didn't leave," he counters eventually, for lack of anything better to say. He keeps himself quiet too, reluctant to disturb the sleep-thick atmosphere.

There's a lengthy pause, and then the sound of the Doctor pushing himself upright against the pillows. He clears his throat. "Yeah, I... I wanted to wait. This time."

The Master exhales briefly through his nose. He kicks his ruined shoes and socks off, then shoots an arch look back over his shoulder.

His eyes have adjusted enough to the darkness that he can make out the details of the other man. The Doctor's sitting with his knees raised in front of him, covers pushed away. He's wearing a loose cotton T-shirt and striped pyjama pants, hair in disarray from the pillow, watching him with a bemused frown. He looks rumpled and soft and safe in a way the Master thinks is one of his better deceptions.

The Doctor blinks as he catches sight of the Master's face for the first time, noting his split lip and the bruise he wears along one cheekbone.

"What happened?"

The Master begins unbuttoning his shirt, irritable when numb fingers fumble the delicate work. "Disagreement over who buys rounds," he lies blithely, peeling off the damp shirt and letting it slither to the floor. "You should see the other guy."

The weak joke holds double meaning, they're both aware: first the more typical dismissal of further conversation down this route; second the knowledge that the Master is being entirely genuine in his implication he was not the loser of the confrontation that left him slightly bloodied. He suspects the Doctor would be far more upset if he did see 'the other guy'.

Tellingly, the Doctor doesn't pursue the matter.

"Have fun?"

The Master ignores the question, unable to determine if it's as passive aggressive as it sounds. Besides, the Doctor doesn't need to know his answer would be a resounding no.

"You didn't come after me," the Master says abruptly, the near-accusation escaping against his will, and immediately has to look away and close his eyes against embarrassment for himself.

The Doctor fidgets. "I'm not forcing you to stay. I said I wouldn't."

The thing is, he hadn't been too sure on how seriously to take that particular promise. It had seemed like one of those empty principles the Doctor offers so easily. He'd wanted to prove it to both of them, fully intending to crow smug victory when the Doctor inevitably came to fetch him back, all high-handed duty.

The Master doesn't know how he feels about being wrong.

"I'm... glad you came back though," the Doctor adds cautiously.

He wants instantly to insist it doesn't mean anything more than practicality. That he'd been cold and tired and this was as good a shelter as any other he could think of. That he won't be tricked into staying put by whatever attempt at cheap reverse psychology this is. The excuses come so fast they catch in his throat.

As if he can feel the unspoken protests mounting, the Doctor lets the moment go easily enough. He shifts himself to lie down again with a stifled yawn.

"Come on. Get in."

The Master darts another glance. He thinks if the Doctor had looked even slightly calculating he would have resisted the temptation out of little more than spite. But the other man appears to be halfway back to his interrupted sleep already, dozing and unguarded, one arm flopped carelessly towards him across the sheets.

Giving in, the Master quickly unbuckles his belt, shoves the worn slacks down and off himself, and then turns onto the bed. He doesn't bother keeping his distance, sliding smoothly across the space and over the other man's prone form.

The Doctor hums pleased surprise, loose-limbed and accommodating as the Master moves him as he likes. He slots himself between the Doctor's spread legs, rocking his hips down even though neither of them are hard. That's not what he's after, for the moment. Rather, he wants to know that he's still permitted here; that he can bury himself in the warm body and ridiculous pyjamas and be welcome, all the cold, sharp edges of him. The Doctor stretches indulgently beneath him, letting his legs fall further open so the Master can lie properly between them, tilting his head back when the Master presses his face against throat and collarbone to inhale the familiar smell there.

"You're freezing," the Doctor murmurs in lazy complaint, making no effort to push him off.

The Master lets his weight rest heavy, enjoying the way it pins the other man in place. He smooths a hand down the Doctor's waist, feeling the groove of prominent ribs and pointy hipbone beneath the thin cotton. The Doctor hisses protest as he slips under the T-shirt, arching helplessly away from contact with his frigid fingers.

"You only want me for my body heat," comes the whinging accusation, and the Master is glad he can hide a smile against the other man's collar.

He says nothing to confirm or deny, instead letting his other hand find skin as well. One dips below the Doctor's back where he's arched up off the mattress, flattening against the base of his spine. The other he spreads across the plane of the Doctor's stomach, pushing his chill fingertips into the vulnerable spot. The side of his thumb strokes idly along the trail of dark hair there and he rolls his hips down again, with more interest now, although still not enough to do anything about it until he's warmer.

The Doctor shifts so they're both more comfortable, one bare ankle hooking over the back of the Master's thigh, arm draped across his shoulders. "This is awful," he mutters, already sounding half asleep again. "You're awful." He reaches down and grabs blindly for the covers, managing to tug them into place across the two of them.

"Hm," the Master agrees. He feels the Doctor slip back into sleep, utterly at ease beneath the weight of him, and wants to scorn the display of trust - but he's pulled under too fast by stolen heat and comfort, and they sink together into contented oblivion.

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Imagine Tony has been in the habit of enthusiastically indulging Bucky anytime Bucky actually chooses something. But Bucky has gotten too used to it, and is sort of riding roughshod over Tony now. (Not maliciously, just thoughtlessly.) Tony of course has no idea how to talk about the issue and so has been just going with it and letting it build and build. Finally a(nother?) major boundary is crossed and Bucky realizes what's been happening. Cue amends/compromises for a happy ending?

[A/N: This takes place in our Communal Kitchen ‘verse, between chapters 33 and 34 of Winter is Coming. But you don’t need to have read that to read this.]

Buckywas Bucky again, and not the Winter Soldier, thank god for smallmercies. Seeing Bucky triggered -- and then being forced to triggerhim again in order to win him back -- it had been one of the worstexperiences of Tony’s life.

AndTony had quite a few terrible experiences to choose from.

Ithad been even worse for Bucky, of course, and it was showing. Evenback to himself, he was quiet and withdrawn. And it didn’t takelong for Tony to realize that he was falling back into the habit ofletting others -- especially Tony -- tell him what to do.

Buckyhad noticed it, too; Tony could see him struggling with it. Therewasn’t much Tony could do to help, aside from watch his ownphrasing and try to be supportive of Bucky’s efforts to fight thoseingrained instincts. And to reward assertions of Bucky’s ownpreferences over Tony’s.

Ithad started small -- Tony said, “How do you feel about Chinese fordinner?” and Bucky had visibly braced himself before he responded,“Nah, I’d rather have Italian tonight.”

Tonyhad been craving eggrolls, but supporting Bucky’s fragileindependence was infinitely more important. He could have eggrollsany time. So Tony had swooped in on his boyfriend and kissed himbreathless. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

Andso it went.

Itwasn’t like it was hard. Simple things. Food choices -- and whenhad Tony ever really cared about food, except as fuel, so switchingfrom Mexican to Indian wasn’t too much of a big deal. Or movies;and after Bucky had watched enough modern cinema to have developed ataste in movies at all -- aside from just watching with all thediscernment of a four-year-old -- they were mostly compatible in thatdirection.

Buckyliked science fiction, the more cerebral and speculative, the better.He scoffed at the original StarTrek,but devoured JupiterAscendinglikeit was Oscar worthy. Bucky might have had bad taste, there, but hey,it was just a movie. Tony had sat through worse. Really, he had. Hewas sure of it. Maybe. But it was okay, they couldn’t agree oneverymoviethey watched.

Theworst part about it was on the rare occasion where Tony argued(because he was Tony and he always argued; it was in his very natureto be contrary). When Tony pushed back, Bucky would flinch,like he expected Tony to hit him. Or spew a mouthful of hateful wordsat him. Bucky recovered, quick enough, usually with a shake of hishead and a ready smile, and sometimes with a kiss, but Tony noticedhe was always… just a little less himself, after. For a while.

SoTony tried to argue less. With Bucky, anyway. Nothing was importantenough to see Bucky cringe like that, even for an instant, to have toremember Bucky’s life held in his hands. And really, Bucky askedfor so little, and he was so loving and generous with Tony...Relationships were about compromise, right?

Pepperwould be proud of how he’d grown.

[mobile readers, ‘ware the readmore!]

Sowhat if Bucky wanted to take the Tesla when they went out, instead ofTony’s favorite Audi?

Itwasn’t like it was any trouble. It wasn’t like Tony didn’t liketheTesla, too.

Okay,Tony did get in trouble the time that Bucky had wanted to stay in bedand cuddle, and Tony had missed an early investors meeting. Pepperhad been livid.“I didn’t forget,” Tony protested when she paused to draw abreath. “I just lost track of time, a little. Bucky wanted a littleextra cuddling this morning, and you know he’s been under theweather lately.”

“Tony,your boyfriend is older than you and me and Jim put together,”Pepper snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously. “He is grown upenough to be left to his own devices, whereas the Japanese PrimeMinister wanted some personalreassurancesthat integrating Stark Technologies for the majority of their publicutilities coordination was going to go smoothly. Reassurances that cannot give him, because I am a woman.” This was even moredangerous, although Tony would like to point out that certaindisagreeable sexism issues in other countries were entirely outsideof his wheelhouse. “Japan has a population density of three hundredand fifty per square mile; that’s a lot of people to be withoutpower if these new grids can’t hold up to the strain!”

“Ipromise I will go and see him at the embassy before his trip isover,” Tony swore. “Seriously, I didn’t mean to miss it, Ijust...” He trailed off, and held up his hands helplessly. “Comeon, Pep; you know me better than that. You know I didn’t mean it.”

“Iunderstand that you are indulging your boyfriend, and I’m veryhappy for you that you seem to have learned somethingaboutrelationships,” Pepper said, and she was gritting her teeth in away that suggested happywasthe least of her emotions at this particular point in time. “However,you have more than one relationship. Friends, and co-workers, and acorporation. Balance, Tony.” She sighed at his particularly hangdoglook. “Stop giving me the Bambi eyes. I’ll send him a fruitbasket. But you’d better get out there. Tomorrow at the latest.”

“Absolutely,I promise.”

WhenTony came back from his visit with the Japanese Prime Minister, hefound Bucky hunched over a computer terminal, feverishly comparing...climbing tools? “Hey, babe. What’s cooking?”

Buckylooked up, giving Tony a wide, brilliant smile. “Tony, hi,” hesaid. “Missed you.” He reached out and tugged Tony into his lap.“Was watchin’ some television while you were gone. Documentary onthe Discovery channel. Kinda reminded me a bit -- well, minus theorcs and trolls -- of that movie, what was it? With the littlehobbits, and the ring? That. Yeah. And you know, there’s a spot,Voronja, out in Georgia -- the slavic Georgia, not the state. I wasthere once, for a mission, but I thought it’d be nice to see whenI’m in my right mind. Deepest cave on the planet, they say.”

Well,that sounded moderately horrible. Tony had pretty much avoided cavessince the whole Afghanistan kidnapping incident. But far be it fromhim to discourage another’s fun. “Yeah? You should do that,” heagreed. “Sounds like a heck of a trip.”

“Yeah?”Bucky snuggled up against him, rubbing his chin on Tony’s back.“It’d be fun, right? When do you think we might be able t’ getaway for a bit?”

“...We?”Oh god, Bucky wasn’t thinking that they’d bothgo,was he? “You mean, we,we?”

“No,me an’ Steve,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. “Of course, we.Us. You an’ me. Like, a vacation.”

“Avacation. In Georgia,” Tony repeated. “In a cave.”

Buckymade an amused little noise. “Legally, I think I’m stillconsidered a Russian citizen.” That had to be a joke, Bucky hadn’tbeen considered a legal anything for most of seventy years. He hadn’texisted, officially, on any country’s census.

“Idon’t know,” Tony hedged. “This thing with Japan has Pepperwound pretty tight. Might be a while before I can get away.”

“Oh,yeah, okay,” Bucky said. He swiped the screen with his right hand,spinning the menu options away. “It… it can wait. Cave’s notgoing anywhere.”

Damnit, he sounded so disappointed. So dejected. Tony scrubbed his handover his face. “Give me a couple of days,” he said, “and I’lltalk to Pepper, see what we can arrange. Maybe we can make it astopover on the way to Japan or something.” He’d never been anygood at denying Bucky anything.

“Great,”Bucky said, and he sounded really pleased. “You know, there’s somuch I remember from then, an’ ain’t very much of it good. I’dlike to show you one of the few things I remember that was pretty.”He nuzzled at Tony’s neck. “You’re th’ best.”

Andnow Tony would have to be the world’s biggest heel to deny him.

Tonykissed Bucky and resigned himself to a cave. And a round or three ofnightmares.

***

Buckyhad ended up on the far side of the bed again. Tony sometimes calledit the continental drift, where both of them pushed away and therewas a huge swath of empty bed between them. It didn’t happen toooften; the room temperatures were usually quite cool and Bucky putout a lot of body heat, which meant Tony was often curled up on oneside or the other.

Absently,Bucky put out his hand and started patting around for his boyfriend.

Therewasn’t even a Tony-shaped divot in the bed. The memory foam hadcooled enough to be smooth and flat.

Buckyopened his eyes. A distinct lack of Tony in the room. He listened. NoTony in the penthouse, actually. Huh. Bucky was only a particularlydeep sleeper in the first couple hours after he fell asleep. Afterthat, Tony shifting around to get out of bed would have woken him, atleast enough to remember Tony leaving. Sometimes he got an idea inthe middle of the night and had to go to the workshop.

“Hey,J,” Bucky said. “Tony down in the ‘shop?”

“Heis, sir,” JARVIS said. “I believe he woke early and did not wishto disturb your rest.” There was a brief pause, as if JARVIS wasconsidering. “If I might, sir, a word?”

Buckyflashed a grin, knowing JARVIS would see it wherever he was. “Youneed me to go rescue him from himself?” Tony was prone toforgetting to eat, sleep, drink, sometimes forgot even to go to thebathroom unless he was reminded, and over the years, he’d gottenremarkably good at ignoring JARVIS’s mild suggestions that hiscreator might, actually, be human and need to tend to his meat body.

“Presently,”JARVIS agreed. “In the interest of his continued good health,however, I wish to offer something of a trend analysis, if I might beso bold.”

“Haveyou, a day in your existence, ever been less than assertive?” Buckyloved the AI, considered JARVIS nearly as much of the family as Tonydid. Sassy, intelligent, and possessing a certain dry wit, andunimaginable depth of compassion for those humans he took under hiswing -- so to speak.

“Whereit pertains to Mr. Stark’s wellbeing, certainly not,” JARVISsaid. “I have noted a marked increase in restless nights over thelast ten days, and a significant uptick in fear response wakingpatterns indicative of nightmares, in the last four. Analysissuggests that the upswing began when plans were laid for yourupcoming trip.”

“Yeah?That Japan thing got him in a right lather? I know Miss Potts’sbeen givin’ him a bit of a hard time, but--” Bucky shrugged. Hedidn’t know. Business really wasn’t his area of expertise,except, perhaps, in sabotage. He wouldn’t have thought that wouldget Tony wound up, though. From all indications, the Prime Ministerhad been delighted with the system’s promised efficiency, and Tonyalmost never made technological promises he couldn’t deliver on.  

“Mr.Stark has been to Japan on numerous occasions. It has never causedthis significant a deviation,” JARVIS said. “I believe the issuemay be with some plans for your stop in Georgia. Specifically, yourforay into spelunking.”

Thecave was beautiful, Bucky remembered that clearly, remembered beingstruck by the natural power of the place, even in the midst of whathad been a particularly tricky mission -- removing and relocating avaluable geologist whose hobby had been the exploration of caverns --without alerting anyone as to when or where he’d gone missing.

Heblinked. “Wait, Tony’s havin’ nightmares about spelunking?”

“Thatis my speculation, yes. Have you reviewed the file on Mr. Stark’skidnapping, some years past?”

“The…Ten Rings thing, or somethin’ further back?” Bucky knew that Tonyhad spend an inordinate amount of time being kidnapped or held forransom when he was a child, all the way up through his college years.It was kinda disgusting, really, that Howard had never been able totake better care of his own kid.

“Thatis the incident to which I refer, yes.” JARVIS had the tone of avery patient teacher with a particularly slow child. “Are youfamiliar with it?”

Buckywas familiar with a lot of Tony’s life. JARVIS even knew that, hadaccessed all the Hydra files Bucky had liberated about Tony Stark.The Afghanistan incident, that he only had passing knowledge of; theTen Rings hadn’t exactly filmed their brutalities, most of thetime. He’d seen a few pictures, the original ransom demand, theremains of the terrorist camp after Tony had destroyed it.

“He,uh. Got hurt, bad. Took shrapnel in the chest. Would have died,except some scientist put a damn electromagnet in his chest, to keepthe pieces from tearing his heart open,” Bucky said. That much waspretty common knowledge. Everything Bucky knew after that was…well, after. When Tony got back to the States and started on the paththat would eventually lead him to become Iron Man. “They, uh.Wanted him to build them a bomb and tortured him, when he refused.”Bucky shuddered, not liking to think of Tony, how alone he must havefelt, without even the damnable peace of cryo, the numbness ofmissions, to ease the agony.

“Indeed.The Ten Rings cell that held him made their camp, at least partially,within a system of caves in the mountains. He and his fellow prisonerwere kept in one of the deepest of these caves, to reduce the risk oftheir escape.”

Buckytook the force of that like one of Tony’s old missiles. Oh.

“Well,”Bucky said, slowly, “don’t I feel remarkably stupid.”And JARVIS had talked him through it like a toddler, forcing Bucky tocome to certain unpleasant conclusions, not only about the cave, butabout himself. “I… uh. Thank you for bringin’ this to myattention. I’ll… I should go talk to him, yeah?”

“Ithink that would be prudent,” JARVIS agreed primly.

Itdidn’t take him particularly long to get to the workshop,especially since he took the stairs. He’d long since proven than hewas faster than the elevator, a fact that annoyed Clint Barton to noend.

Giventhat JARVIS knew he was on his way, Bucky found it more than a littleannoying when the door didn’t open to his print. Bucky scowled,then knocked on the damn door.

Tonywas clearly visible, working at his usual station. He glanced up atthe knock and waved Bucky in. He made a face and said something,possibly to JARVIS, because the door clicked softly as it unlatchedand opened.

“Hey,sweetheart,” Tony said as Bucky came in. “Is it morning already?”

“‘Bouthalf past seven,” Bucky told him, as if Tony couldn’t check thetime. “I… hey.” He crossed the room and tipped Tony’s chinup, studying his face. A few days worth of stubble had filled in thespaces around his normally fastidiously cultivated facial hair, andthe circles under his eyes were probably visible from the moon.“Honey? Were you… were you gonna tell me?”

“Tellyou -- what? That I had a few bad dreams? It happens to all of us nowand then, nothing to do about it.”

“Yeah,I know that, we all get ‘em,” Bucky said. That much was true;there wasn’t a single member of the Avengers that didn’t sufferfrom the occasional sleepless night. He chewed his lip. “Old wivestale.. When you have a bad dream, you tell someone about it, shareit. And then, wham, you never have it again. Wanna tell me?”

Tonyshrugged, looked away. “Not much to it,” he said. “Stuck inAfghanistan again, only this time I can’t find my way out. Wind upcornered, out of ammo, power drained.” He held a breath, and let itall out in a gust. “Usually manage to wake up before they startshooting.”

Usually.

Buckydeposited a kiss on Tony’s curls, sticking up in all directions asif he’d been shoving his oily hands through them. He probably had,knowing Tony.

“Huh,”Bucky said. “Sounds terrible. I’m glad you’re okay, baby. Iget, you know I get ‘em, stupid nightmares. You know I can’t sitin th’ recliners, ‘cause being tipped back like that just gets mespun up.”

Tonynodded. “I know,” he said, more steadily. “I know that’s aproblem. That’s why we just have a bench down here, when I’mworking on your arm. I couldn’t do that to you.”

Buckytook a deep breath, pulled Tony in close. “So… uh. Why do youthink I’d wanna do that to you?”

“What?No, of course you wouldn’t!” Tony sounded genuinely offended onBucky’s behalf. “Why would you think that?”

Buckyhad to tread very carefully; Tony was prone to getting his back up,doubling-down, if he thought he had to prove something. “There areother things to do, in Georgia,” Bucky said. “Ruins, and somepretty little traditional villages, an’ all kinds of food shops.Wine tours. If you still want to go. I could even go do the cavesmyself, just for an afternoon.”

“Oh.”Tony sighed. “That’s not the same, honey. If you want me to gowith you -- you said you wanted to show it to me.”

“AndI do,” Bucky said, because he was pretty sure that it was importantnot to lie, even to spare Tony’s feelings. “I wantalot of things. But one thing I want, more than anything else? Is foryou to be happy and comfortable. Baby, if this thing isn’t going tomake you happy, then I don’t need it. That’s… that’s okay.”

Tonyshook his head. “I can’t just say no for every little thing youwant just because it’s not what I want,” he said. “That’s notfair.”

“You’renot sayin’ no to everything little--”

Oh.Oh, god.

“--Tony,you’re not saying no to anything.Like, ever.”Guilt shook Bucky all the way down to his core. “What the hell,Tony?” He pushed back a bit, so he could look down at Tony’sface, caught the way Tony’s eyes slid away from his gaze. “Tony?”

“Ican’t,” Tony said, eyes fixed firmly on the wall. “I can’tsay-- I mean, I can,obviously, I know I can, but you get so... it’s like you think I’mgoing to hurt you for picking the wrong thing, I can’t take it. Ican’t do that to you.”

Thenoise that came out of Bucky’s throat was practicallyunrecognizable as a word, a half-protest, half strangled groan. “Oh.”Bucky was a little wobbly in the knees, like a newborn baby deer.“Can… come here, come here, let’s--” Bucky teetered backwardand then shuffled, moving them over to the cot where he could sitdown, heavily. “I didn’t know.”

“Didn’tknow what?” Tony folded down next to him. “That you wereflinching? I’m not surprised, it’s just... something in youreyes, the way you hold your shoulders.”

Buckynodded. “Yeah, I c’n-- I see where it’s comin’ from. It’shard,asserting myself. I…” Bucky’s face and neck heated and heducked his chin so he didn’t have to look at Tony. “... you know,have to work my way up to it. Assets don’t have opinions. An’ Iknow, baby, I know. You’re tryin’ to make it easier for me. Iappreciate it, every bit of it, even if I didn’t quite notice atth’ time. But… Tony, we can’t go on like this, not either ofus.”

“Idon’t mind,” Tony said stubbornly. “Helping you is so much moreimportant than anything else.”

“Doesn’tseem very fair to you,” Bucky said. “An’ long run, I don’tthink it’s very fair to me, either. How’m I s’posed to getbetter at a thing, if I don’t get any practice. Tony, listen to me,please? Just… I swear, I don’t know why you think you deserve somuch lessthanI do. We’re partners, right?”

“Ofcourse.” Tony looked up at that, eyes searching Bucky’s face. “Iam listening, I just -- I’m trying to help you practice wantingthings,speaking up for yourself, having your own opinions. That’simportant, honey.”

“I’mnot disagreeingwithyou,” Bucky said, trying to untangle the situation. “I’m sayin’it’s more than yes/no. It… it’s not that simple, an’ I’msorry it took me so long t’ see that it wasn’t that simple. Iain’t been doing right by you, baby. My stupid messed up brain. So…hey, hey, stop lookin’ all sad like that, we’re gonna fix it,right, because that’s what adult people do when they’re in arelationship, okay. Okay?”

“Okay,”Tony agreed, though he still looked kind of sad. “I don’t knowhow, though. I want to help you. I likehelpingyou.”

Buckysmiled. “I like you helping me, too, honey. I like doing thingswith you, I like… all of this. What I don’t like, is yousacrificingyourcomfort for me. Okay? You gotta tell me these things, so that I know.Baby, I’d have never asked you t’ suffer, jus’ for me to have alark.”

“I’mnot--” Tony bit down on the lie, and huffed. “Yeah, okay. I...don’t want to go in any caves. That’s not... not my idea of fun.”

“Okay,Tony,” Bucky told him, and if he felt that vague tinge of unease,that sense of doom, he suppressed it as well as he could. It wasn’teasy, but that’s what they were doing, right. Compromise. It was athing. Bucky could feel uncomfortable for a few minutes, so Tonywouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable for several days leading up to,and probably after, and certainly during.“Then we don’t have to. So, do you still wanna go to Georgia, orwe can jus’ skip that an’ do vacation some other time, when we’vegot some time t’ think of something we bothwantto do?”

“Ialready wangled the time off out of Pepper,” Tony pointed out. “I’mnot about to admit to her that we could’ve scheduled the Japanmeeting earlier. We can still take a vacation together, like yousaid. Do some of that other stuff you mentioned.”

“Okay,Tony,” Bucky said. “We’ll do that. Tourist stuff. See all theplaces where I’ve been an’ didn’t notice what I was lookin’at. I like that idea. Honest.” He nuzzled into Tony’s hair,breathing in his scent. “I like spendin’ time with you. That’swhat’s most important, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,”Tony said, curling in closer. “Yeah, that part... That, I knew.”

“So…”Bucky said, still talking into Tony’s hair, “d’ you havesomehin’ down here you need or want t’ be doin’?” Maybe theycould make this work out, if Bucky knew what the expectations were,or the demands on Tony’s time, or his well being. Then he wouldn’thave to worry, when he asked for something, if he was beingunreasonable. And Tony wouldn’t have to be concerned that Bucky wasflinching, when he said no.

Tonylooked around at his shop. “Not really,” he said. “I wasjust... puttering, so I didn’t wake you up.”

Buckytraced a little circle on the back of Tony’s neck, then rubbed withhis thumb, soothing away tension. “I’m awake,” he pointed out,“if you wantedt’come upstairs an’ indulge me in some cuddling?”

Tonyappeared to give that some thought. “I think I have time for that,”he said, his mouth ticking up into a little teasing smirk. “I’dlike that.”

@27dragons & @tisfan