Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“So technically, could you do it?”

Strange groaned.

“Stark, for the last time. I have no interest nor reason to do something like that.”  

“No interest? Oh come on, doc. You’re telling me you have the chance to time travel literally hanging from your neck, and you never thought about using it?”

A sigh left the sorcerer’s lips.

“I mean. Just think of all the possibilities! Hell, dinosaurs are not your thing, fine, you could pop up in Egypt and watch Caesar and Cleopatra get it on. Or take a stroll in Versailles with the freaking Roi Soleil, or, hell. Go see how Cap was before the super-hot serum.”  

Strange wondered why, for the life of him, he had thought it would be harmless to let Stark know about the stone hanging from his neck. He had been in this room, meditating, for two hours. Stark, on the other hand, had been pestering him with Back to the Future curiosities and correlated questions for the last 90 minutes.

“Can you imagine that?” Tony continued, as the sorcerer clenched his jaw, trying to block out his incessant nagging. “I bet he looked like a bobblehead. Big blond mop of hair with a square jaw, and the body of a cranky fifteen-year-old.”

There was a chuckle and some silence after that, possibly gifted by Tony’s overactive imagination as he pictured a pre-serum Steve Rogers.

“So you don’t wanna go, that’s fine. Great powers great responsibilities and all that, I get it. But could you at least show us something like that? Like—“

“Stark. I am trying to focus. Please take your annoying voice elsewhere.”

“—imagine Cap, alright? You could open one of your fire circle windows and show us that?”

Strange’s hands twitched, from where they were resting over his knees. “If you want to see him so badly, I’d suggest you move your ass out of here and into his room.” He gritted between his teeth.

“Ah, but it’s not the same, see— “

“Stark—” The sorcerer finally opened his eyes to glare at the other man.

“It’s just a matter of—“

 A flash of light, and only two flicks of his hand, and Tony was gone. Strange let out a long exhale, closing up the ‘fire circle window’, and shutting his eyes again.

He moved back into the meditative stance, with a content sigh.

Finally. Silence.

“Hey, Strange, have you seen Tones?” He didn’t bother opening his eyes when Rhodes walked into the room.

“He’s in time-out.” The sorcerer replied casually.

“—perspective— ow.” Tony stumbled, rubbing at his shoulder with a grimace before taking a step back. He blinked as he saw the tree he had bumped against.

Huh.

A woman laughed somewhere behind him, and he turned around, frowning at the dark—camp? He didn’t recognise the place. And hadn’t it been afternoon just a minute ago?

Where the hell had Strange sent him?

Two nicely dressed girls ran in front of him, laughing as they caught up with three men in uniform up ahead. There was music in the air, the kind Tony’s mom had liked. It came from what seemed to be a huge white tent, and Tony briefly looked around him before approaching the place. People walked in and out, all looking pretty giddy and in a good mood. Drinks in hand, a girl attached at the arm. Tony registered that most of the men were wearing uniforms.

He slowly made his way to one of the entrances and stood there, a puzzled look on his face. The place was full of soldiers, some focused on the motivational speech someone on stage was giving them, some more interested in the music and the girls or the bar on the side of the big tent. Tony scanned the room, the dark green uniforms and the greased back haircuts. Fucking hell. He’d asked the wrong question.

When the hell had Strange sent him?

Well, shit. He was starting to feel some real Back to the Future vibes as he moved his gaze around the place. He took a few tentative steps into the crowd as he kept glancing at everything around him. Oh, this was crazy. He turned around, startled by a loud noise behind him, which only turned out to be a group of soldiers opening up a bottle of sizzling wine. From the way they laughed and staggered on their feet, it looked like that hadn’t been their first bottle of the night, either. Tony would have ignored them, going back to stare at the room wide eyed and trying to tone down the royal freak out he felt was about to come—if it hadn’t been for what he heard one of the soldiers say.

“That’s to Capt’n fucking ‘Merica.” The young man laughed, throwing his head back as he took a long swig of wine straight from the bottle. Tony blinked, watching while the group of soldiers walked out of the tent laughing at the swaying of their feet.

That’s to Capt’n fucking ‘Merica.

As if all the noise had faded in the back of his head, he suddenly zeroed-in on the voice that was giving the motivational speech in the background, and turned to face the stage again. A stage where a big bulky blonde in spandex was giving the thumbs up to the troops in front of him. Behind him, a red banner read ‘Captain America: the last show’. Tony was pretty sure his brain went off-line there for a minute or so.

“Holy shit. That’s Cap.” He breathed, once he snapped out of the shock induced trance, his eyes fixed on Steve freakin’ Rogers, in all of his 1944-y glory on stage, ridiculous costume and all, with freaking ballerinas dressed in stars and stripes all around him. Holy shit. Strange had done some miscalculation there, because that was definitely not pre-serum Steve. He was halfway through bursting out laughing when someone butted in.

“Pretty impressive, huh?”

Tony tore his eyes from the stage, looking at his side to be sure that someone was talking to him—because honestly, right now he was having a bit of a hard time believing this wasn’t just some weird daydream Strange was feeding him to keep him quiet.

As it turned out, weird daydream or not, this whole situation wasn’t ideal for his health. Because as soon as his gaze landed on the man standing by the bar next to him, Tony was pretty sure he nearly had a heart attack.

“The Captain, I mean. Makes ya wonder what he ate to get ‘tis big.” The man continued, as no answer came from Tony. He seemed amused by his own words, as if there was some kind of inside joke there that he knew Tony couldn’t possibly catch on.

Oh, if only that was the case.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s…that’s just what I was wondering.” Tony huffed, as Bucky Barnes smiled at him.

That earned him a brief laugh from the soldier. “You’re not the first.”

And Tony stood there, watching the Winter Soldier snatch a drink from a fellow comrade, amused line on his lips and laughter in his eyes. Only then Tony’s brain supplied for him that this wasn’t the Winter Soldier. Not yet. Not at all.

This was Bucky Barnes, with the short hair and the clean shave and the green Sergeant cap in his hand. This was the man he’d grown up hearing about, the man he’d read about at the Smithsonian. James Buchanan Barnes, war hero from the Howling Commandos. The man Steve wouldn’t quit talking about, a man who had just laughed with a complete stranger, and the realisation stunned Tony into silence again.

“Y’alright there fella? You look a bit out of it.” Barnes asked with honest to god concern, placing a hand on Tony’s shoulder as if he thought Tony was about to crumble to the floor. Which, yeah, wouldn’t be the strangest thing that happened to him tonight. 

“I’m fine. Had one drink too many, I guess.”

Barnes nodded in understanding as he laughed again. “I kno’ one or two things ‘bout that.” And honestly, where did that drawl come from? Did Steve sound like that, too, before he was put on a stage and had to look and sound all proper?

“Sergeant James Barnes.” He held out a hand for him, all charming smile and confidence. Tony had a bit of a hard time digesting the idea that this was—Bucky Barnes.

“Tony—” He stopped, just in time to wonder if giving out his name was a good idea. Jesus, Barnes probably knew his dad already. Besides, better safe than sorry. He’d rather avoid questions like ‘Oh, Stark? You and Howard are family by any chance?’. Something like that would probably push him towards the inevitable freak out that was awaiting him just around the corner. “Tony McFly.” He finished in a breath and shook Barnes’ hand.

“McFly? Ya don’t sound Irish. Or look Irish, for that matter.” Barnes’s eyes scanned him from head to toe as he said that, the corner of his mouth curled upwards and—wait. Had Bucky Barnes just checked him out? He shook his head lightly. Weird daydream. Definitely weird daydream. But he was still in the freaking forties, so maybe there was a chance that Barnes was looking funny at him because of the way he was dressed. That would make sense, right?

“That’s ‘cause I’m not. I mean, it’s more of a—great great grandad sorta thing.” He muttered, giving a quick look around him to see if he would have to make an excuse for his clothes. He caught sight of a few guys with a white dress shirt like his on, so he supposed he was on the clear. He thanked his luck that he kept shirt and dress jacket on, and hadn’t yet changed into a pair of sweats and an old band t-shirt when he went annoying Strange about time-travel issues. That kind of dress code would have turned heads, surely.

He looked back at the soldier once he was satisfied with his inspection. “But you— you sound like you’re from Brooklyn, Sarge.” He pointed out and, alright, perhaps he had a hard time letting that old Brooklyn drawl go, so what of it?

“Born an’ bred.” Barnes nodded, proud smile on his face. “And none of that, ya can call me Bucky.”

Tony watched him as he leaned against the bar, sipping the drink he’d taken from another soldier earlier, and he could admit it wasn’t too hard to see why Bucky Barnes was remembered as the brave and charming WWII vet. Honestly, now that Tony had the chance to chat with that Bucky Barnes, he didn’t think he wanted to let it go. So he leaned against the bar, watching him curiously. “Bucky? What kind of name is that for a Sergeant?” He raised one eyebrow at him.

“Name’s James Buchanan Barnes.” Bucky laughed, tapping the bar to call for another drink. He shrugged as he looked at Tony again. “Bucky, ah—it jus’ sorta stuck.”

Tony huffed. “Damn, I’ll have Bucky any day if the other option’s James Buchanan. Sorry, Mr. President.” He chuckled, a matching amused smile on his face. He couldn’t help it. Who named their son after president James Buchanan?

Bucky didn’t look too heartbroken by Tony criticising his name and nickname alike, just laughing it off as the guy from the bar pushed a drink his way. “Here. If ya can still criticize one of our presidents, y’haven’t drank enough.” He told him, sending a grin his way when Tony accepted the drink.

“An’ my Ma, she was a fan. Wanted me to have some presidential charm in me, or somethin’.”

Tony nodded, taking a swig from his drink. If there was a moment in life where he earned a drink, oh, this was it. He looked over at Barnes, raising one eyebrow. “Mhm. I can tell she did a good job with that.” He hummed in agreement.

That seemed to get Bucky’s attention. Bucky Barnes, soldier and historic ladies man extraordinaire, all but stood up straighter at that. “Really, now?” With a surprised chuckle, Bucky smiled at him. He worried his bottom lip with his teeth, carefully looking Tony over as if he was studying him for a moment or two. Tony’s mouth went a little dry under that inspection. Whether he knew it or not, Sergeant Barnes knew how to make someone flustered.

At the same time, at the far end of the tent the troops seemed to get louder all of a sudden. It caught their attention, and when they turned around Captain America was leaving the stage with a salute. Bucky made a noise at that. “Helluva timing, Stevie.” The soldier muttered, looking undecided for a moment, before turning back towards Tony, who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Look, I gotta go see my pal over there. But don’t ya go—“ Bucky trailed off, thinking over what he was saying. Tony gave him a puzzled look, not sure why Barnes looked so regretful all of a sudden, until the soldier shook his head, apparently making up his mind. Then the smile was back on his face. “Ya know what, wanna get outta here with me? It’ll just take a coupla minutes.” He rested his hand on Tony’s shoulder, smiling at him with a wink. “An’ I’d hate to lose ya in the crowd, doll.”

Tony glanced down at the hand on his shoulder.

Oh?

Oh.

Well. This wasn’t in history books.

“Uh—“ Tony’s brain supplied. Bucky Barnes was chatting him up, looking at him with poorly hidden interest, and Tony…he’d have to be a bigger liar than he was, to say that he was completely indifferent to it all.

He briefly looked away from him, taking in the girls and soldiers dancing carefree on the far end of the tent, on the stage ballerinas ending their number in front of the few troops still interested in the show.

How many were the chances that this was even real, anyway?

With a light smirk, he looked back at Bucky, whose smile had a bit of a hesitant edge now, given the lack of an answer from Tony. He could fix that. “Lead the way, President.”

The grin it earned him was probably worth the existential crisis he would definitely go through once he was snapped back to the future.

“Will do.” Bucky smiled as he left his drink on the counter, and they walked away from the bar. “You a civilian, right? Whatcha do for a living?” He put on his cap back on. Some part of Tony’s brain told him that he deeply appreciated Barnes’ look like this.

“I guess, you could say I’m into mechanics.”

That spurred a reaction out of the soldier, who looked back at him with raised eyebrows. “Yeah? Oh! You must’ve seen the— at the World Expo, they had a flying car. D’you know that?” He asked, shaking his head with a bewildered look. Tony had to chuckle at that. Did he know that. “Well, ‘flying car’. It more like hovered off the ground for like twelve seconds.”

“I know, can ya believe that?” Bucky laughed along, apparently truly amazed by Howard Stark’s failed attempt to make a car fly successfully. “Ah, t’was brilliant. Can’t wait to see what they’ll come up with next.”

Tony watched him as Bucky went off talking about the wonders of Stark Expo, an excited grin on his face as he tried to make his way through the crowded room, looking behind back at him as he walked, to make sure he didn’t lose Tony into the crowd of soldiers and civilians who were enjoying the night.

There was something about that. About seeing this man, in the middle of a war, finding the time to get so excited about technology and the promise of a future full of surprises, that had something in Tony’s chest stir.

He’d told himself he had forgiven Barnes long ago, for what happened.

With a cool head, Tony knew Bucky couldn’t be blamed for the Winter Soldier’s crimes. He knew it, he was aware of it. He understood all too well what it was to be locked away and tortured and used against your will. And if brainwashing was added to the equation? Yeah. Not a pretty cocktail. But while he could control the logic behind those thoughts, he couldn’t control his emotions, and there hadn’t been one single occasion where he’d seen Barnes walk around the Compound and he hadn’t felt—something stir in chest, deep and ugly. It was a man with Bucky’s face he’d watched kill his mom on that footage, and perhaps he could try forgiving it, but there was no forgetting it.

No, Tony didn’t think he would ever be able to forget it. But right now, as he was faced with the man Barnes had once been, before everything was taken from him by Hydra… For the first time, he ached for him. For that smile that perhaps the world wouldn’t get to see for another 70 years at the very least, for all the excitement for a future he wouldn’t get to live, not the way Barnes had imagined it.

It was perhaps the first time all this really hit him.

Bucky was still rambling on, unaware of Tony’s quiet epiphany. “You a science fan?” Tony interrupted him after he cleared his throat, torn between wanting to see more of this side of Bucky, and changing the subject. Hearing Barnes talking about his dad still wasn’t on his top ten fun activities to do.

They came to a stop a few feet outside a far smaller tent, in a quiet corner away from all the in-and-out of giddy people. “Over here, sugar.” Bucky smiled softly as he gently tugged him along, moving behind a pick-up truck where it was darker. “In a way, I am. Don’t think I’m smart enough to call myself that. But those kinda things— they get me pretty riled up.” Bucky admitted with a soft shrug, leaning to sit on the empty tail of the pick-up.

Tony huffed a chuckle. Bucky Barnes, a science nerd. Why had he never heard of that before? “We have something in common, who would have thought?” He mused, and got Bucky to look pleased up at him, pale eyes and sweet smile. That smile, Tony decided, should have made it into history books. As Bucky reached out a hand for him, an invite to come closer, Tony didn’t think twice to take it along with another step forward, leaving just a few inches between them.

He could deal with what he was doing later, couldn’t he? After all, it wouldn’t be surprising if this was just Strange’s way to mess with him, make sure he was left alone for his next meditation sessions. Tony was left wondering if he really wanted this to be just a weird magic daydream. It would be easier to deal with it, if it was.

“Do we, now?” The soldier smirked, looking as if he had just been waiting for Tony to take that step in front of him. Raising his eyebrows invitingly, Bucky’s gaze dropped to look at Tony’s lips as he wetted his, and Tony’s mouth went dry.

Somewhere at the back of his head something asked, are you really going to do this? Then Bucky tilted his chin up with a trace of that smile still on his lips and—yep, he was gonna do this. He lightly tilted his head to the side, and—“No no don’t!” The high-pitched scream made them both jump up straight, Bucky instinctively moving to put more space between them as they look over at where the scream came from. Tony cursed when it only turned out to be a very wasted army-man who had stumbled to the ground, tugging his girl along. Both were now laughing as she tried to get them up again after the fall.

Bucky let out a small chuckle, running his fingers through his hair in a bit of a nervous way. “Shit.” He breathed with another soft laugh. It was good to know Tony hadn’t been the only one nearly startled to death.

“Jesus. They gave me a fucking heart attack.” Tony shook his head as he chuckled along, doing his best not to glare at the couple. Christ, he’d been one second away from kissing Barnes. Talk about signs from above.

“They wanna have a good time before shippin’ out tomorrow.” Bucky offered with a shrug, looking back at Tony with a sheepish smile. “Can’t really blame ‘em for that.”

“Guess not.” Tony murmured. Was Barnes looking for a good time before being sent out, too? He imagined it couldn’t be too easy to find someone of Barnes’…taste, around here. Soldiers were probably too scared to get caught red-handed to try and pull some stunt like this. “You’re shipping out, too?”

“Not in a few days, no.” Bucky shook his head, halfway through stepping closer to Tony again when another voice called out.

“Buck!”

And there was Steve Rogers, peeling off his ridiculous mask as he walked out of the smaller tent.

“Heya, Stevie.” Bucky broke into a grin as he nodded at his friend. “Ya were on fire tonight.”

Steve gave him a look and Tony was about to flip, because The Frown existed back in 1944 too. “Right. Because I’m being so useful, on that stage.”

“C’mon, buddy.” Bucky sighed and stepped up to his friend, placing his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “We’ve talked about ’tis.”

“It’s just—“ Steve came to a halt when he registered there was someone else there with them. He looked from Bucky to Tony a couple of time, seeming to take in the dark corner they had been standing in just a few moments ago, before glancing back at his friend with a puzzled look.

“Oh, uh.” Bucky looked back at Tony, gesturing him to come closer. “This is Tony. Tony, ‘tis is…well, ya saw it yourself.”

“You can say that, yeah.” Tony muttered, not sure how he felt about being the target of the ‘I don’t know you and I’m trying to figure you out’ look by Steve Rogers all over again. “My pleasure, Captain.” He greeted him with an easy salute.

“Nice to meet you, Tony.” Steve nodded at him, every bit of the polite Captain America who Tony knew. Good to know some things stayed the same. “You’re here to enlist?”

“Oh—oh jeez, no.” He shook his head. “I’ve had my fair share of war. I think I’ll…sit this one out.” He continued as Rogers frowned at him. It was clear he had something to say to that, and Bucky promptly elbowed him in the side with a chuckle. “Stevie, c’mon. Don’t chew ‘im out.”

“I wasn’t gonna—“ Steve muttered, trailing off when Bucky waved him off with a fond smile.

“Tony, I gotta talk to my buddy for a minute. Can ya…wait for me?” Barnes asked, as if Tony was about to take up and leave like the rest of the people around the camp. Damn, he wasn’t even sure he could leave if he wanted to. He could only assume this was a Cinderella-like situation, that at some point the magic would wear out and he would be back in Strange’s room, if he had even left that place at all.

“Won’t catch me going anywhere, Sarge.” He assured him, giving him one of his trademark smirks.

The soldier grinned at the promise and walked up to him, squeezing his hand lightly while muttering ‘be right back’ before walking off with Steve, disappearing behind the tent’s curtains.

Well, damn. Tony huffed. A grown soldier had no business acting that cute.

Just as he finished that thought, he noticed an orange light around his feet.

Oh fu—

He didn’t have the time to register what happened, before he could even make a sound the ground was swept off his feet and he was lying flat on his back on the floor of the Compound, Strange looking down at him with an unimpressed stare. “Enjoyed the trip?”

“Ugh. Shit.” He groaned. He was going to feel that tomorrow.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t like he was obsessed. Tony knew what obsession was. Obsession had had him lock himself in his workshop before, spending days upon days buried in new designs with only Dum-E, brief naps and smoothies to keep him company.

This? This wasn’t obsession.

Sure, he had spent a few nights making thorough research about a man who had lived in the forties, but a lot of people did that. Historians did it all the time, and no one went telling them they were obsessed. So, it was all fine.

It wasn’t like Tony could help it, anyway. He was a man of science, of projects, and he left no work unfinished. Once Tony started working on something, he couldn’t just hop to some other project without having completed and archived the previous one. He just didn’t work that way. He needed closure to move up to the next thing, and the problem here was—his little trip had given him no kind of closure or whatsoever. His jump in the past had ended before he’d had the chance to wrap his mind around what was happening, had ended while he was waiting for Barnes to get back. This way, Tony was stuck going over what happened again and again, wondering—what would have happened if he’d been there when Barnes had come back? What would Barnes have told him? Had he walked out of the tent and frowned when he saw Tony hadn’t waited for him? Had Bucky thought he had been stood up?

Tony had promised he would have waited. It wasn’t his fault Strange had decided to drag him back right then and there, right? It was only legit that Tony couldn’t let that go.

On the other hand, he had honestly no idea if what happened had even been real. Strange was having fun leaving him in the dark, so any time he’d asked him about it, the answers the sorcerer gave him were too damn ambiguous to get anything out of them.

Of course, with Strange out of the picture, Tony knew who his only other reliable source was. But no matter how not knowing was eating him alive, he would not go there. Besides, Barnes hadn’t given him not even one odd look, since the Trip. Not one lingering gaze over breakfast, nothing. So perhaps it was fair to assume Strange had only pushed him into some kind of bubble daydream dimension, and that nothing he’d seen or done had been real. So, no harm done, right?

But he still didn’t know for certain, and hell, that did not sit well with him.

That was why Tony asked FRIDAY where Strange was, and went finding him. He knew there was a very good chance that the sorcerer wouldn’t care about his rambling, but Tony was confident in his skills to annoy the other into listening. In his confidence, Tony thought it would be a good idea to be prepared, and figured that if this time he knew he was going to pop up in the forties, he could make sure he wouldn’t stand out. After a quick trip to his walk-in closet, he had snatched a vintage jacket and shoes—last time no one seemed to notice he was wearing sneakers, but better not to push his luck.

“Look at that, if it isn’t my favourite wizard.”

It wasn’t entirely surprising that he was met with a sigh. “Please, Stark, tell me I won’t have to listen to your queries about time again.”

“No no, no questions.” Tony interrupted and raised his hands, showing he went in peace. “I’m gonna let you be your…smart and spiritual self. No bothering you.”

The wizard let out a hum, not looking very convinced by Tony’s act, but he decided to go back to his readings instead of pressing the matter further.

“So, maybe,” Tony started, and Strange’s shoulders sagged with another sigh. “Just a small request.”

“Request.” The other echoed, raising one eyebrow at him as the volume he had been reading levitated back to its shelf.

“Yeah, you know. When you sucked me back into your time vortex, I was kinda in the middle of a conversation. I mean, real or not, it’s real rude to vanish on someone like that.” Tony took a seat on the armrest of the couch, looking nonchalantly to the shelves of the library. “And you know me, always the gentleman. So…I was thinking you could, you know.” He shrugged, trying to mimic with his hand the magic portal gesture he’d seen the other do countless times. Strange didn’t look impressed. “Whoosh me back in. So I can apologise for disappearing and clear my conscience.”

“If you took me for your personal time machine, Tony, I think I’ll have to disappoint you.”

“Oh come on, Stephen. What’s a little favour between teammates? Friends? Roomies?” He tried to sweeten the pot. “I get to take another trip, you get to enjoy a whole Tony-free day. It’s a win-win situation here.”

He seemed to think it over. “So you want to go back to the same time and place?” Stephen asked. Tony could read his other more pressing question between the lines: and you will give me a whole day of peace and quiet?

“Yeah? Not the exact same time and place. Wouldn’t want to bump into myself and have the universe explode for some kind of paradox.” Tony muttered, scratching his beard distractedly as he mulled it over. “Just pop me in somewhere around Steve, around the time I left, yeah?”

There was a moment of silence. Probably Strange going over the pro and cons of granting Tony another jump in the past.

“Alright.” The wizard said eventually, turning to face him. “But just so you know, travelling back to a point in time can never be truly accurate.”

“Wait.” He frowned. “What does that—“

And with a flash, he was gone.

“Shit. He’s gotta stop doing that.”

Tripping over a wooden box, Tony eyed the back alley where he’d popped out, and the trash he had stepped in.

Oh, come on. Those were nice shoes.

He stepped out of the alley with a grimace, and blinked when he found himself standing in the middle of a rather busy city street. It wasn’t as dark outside this time, and Tony mentally cursed. Had Strange sent him back too early? A quick look around told him that perhaps this was the last of his problems, since he was very much not in the same camp where Steve had been finishing his tour-thing. He stumbled back as a car honked at him, nearly bumping into a guy walking his dog by the sidewalk. “Sorry.” He muttered distractedly, as his eyes darted about. Well shit, he didn’t know where and when he was, how the hell was he supposed to find Steve and Bucky?

He ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh, and let himself really take in his surroundings.

Wow.

Last time he hadn’t had a real chance to look around, finding himself in what seemed a military camp and late at night. But now he was literally walking the streets of city in the forties and for a minute there he was too struck by his surroundings, by the people walking around, that he forgot why he had decided to come back here in the first place. He watched the people walk by with a dazed smile. Damn, it was like being in a William Wyler movie. There was something like a local bar across the street, and he could hear the music coming out every time the door opened. If someone put on Mr. Sandman he was going to flip.

“Tony?”

The familiar voice pulled him out of his trance, and of course there he was. Steve Rogers was standing just outside the bar, a slightly inquisitive frown on his face, as if he wasn’t too sure he had recognized him.

“Oh, hey.” Tony nodded at him with a small wave, gears in his head turning. If Steve knew who he was, then Strange hadn’t sent him back too early. He’d sent him too…late? He checked the road before crossing the street, chewing the inside of his cheek. Strange had said the jump back to a specific point in time was never accurate, but how much time had passed since the night at the tent? “Hey, Cap.”

“Steve’s alright.” Rogers said with a nod and…okay, why didn’t he look too friendly as he said that? “I’m not in uniform.”

Another rush of music came out of the bar as the door was pushed opened. “Stevie, you punk—” Bucky was halfway through reaching out for Steve when he froze, finding himself in front of Tony.

Stomach in knots as he looked at him, Tony cleared his throat. There was no fancy uniform this time, only casual clothes and shirt.  “Hi, Sarge.” He offered when nothing else came out of Barnes’ mouth.

“Tony.”

Steve cleared his throat after a few seconds of thick awkward silence. He gestured back at the pub with his thumb. “I’m…going back inside.”

“Yeah.” Bucky breathed distractedly, and Tony wasn’t sure he had really registered what Steve had said, up until Bucky frowned and looked back up at Steve. “Yeah, you do that. Don’t think I haven’t noticed ya ran for the hills a soon as Carter so much as looked at ya.” Tony raised his eyebrows at that. Had Steve Rogers just got scolded? And wait, Carter? As in Peggy Carter?

“Go talk to’er.” 

Steve sighed, opening the door again and giving Tony one last glance. “M’not promising that.” He muttered as he stepped back in, a nervous look on his face.

A chuckle escaped him, he couldn’t help it. Seeing Rogers get scolded like a schoolboy because he didn’t have the guts to talk to one he liked was…well, it was almost as surreal as the whole being in the past situation. “Not very good at finding a date, huh?” He asked with an amused grin.

Bucky buried his hands in his pockets with a shrug. “Well, ya know. There are fellas who get too scared to ask out the one they’re sweet on, and there’re fellas who get asked out and walk out without sayin’ a word.”

Tony made a face at that. “Okay, technically, you didn’t ask me out.” He pointed out, which only earned him an unimpressed look from the Sergeant. Alright, maybe that wasn’t the right way to approach the topic. “Look, I’m sorry, Barnes.” Tony tried again. “I didn’t mean to leave, I got…dragged away, pretty much.”

“T’was still pretty shitty.” Leaning back against the wall, Barnes raised his eyebrows at him. “I tell Stevie I met someone, an’ we walk out an’ you’re gone. Felt like a good idiot.”

“Sorry.” Tony offered again, because well, Bucky did have a point there. To think you’re about to get lucky and then finding out the other has left without so much as a word had to be a rather disappoint way to end a night out. “There was a—uh, work emergency and I just…really needed to go.”

The soldier looked at him for a few moments there, but Tony could see he didn’t seem actually annoyed. He’d had enough people pissed at him in the past to know what that looked like. Bucky let out a soft sigh then, nodding as if to say ‘fine’, a smile tugging at his lips. “Grab a drink with me, an’ I’ll forget you stood me up.”

Tony grinned. “I can do that, Sarge.”  

They made their way inside the bar with Tony getting a bit lost in his inspection of the place, trying not to look too shocked at the sight of what was probably a pretty normal bar for everyone else except him. It was like being at one of those vintage fairs where waitresses rolled up to your table with skates and asked you if you’d be interested in their ‘Danny Zucko Burger’. Just, without the skates, and the bright colors, and the general…ridiculousness of it all. Considering that Tony was walking around in a real bar from the forties, he thought he was handling his internal excitement and freaking out rather nicely. Something must have shown on his face though, because Bucky looked at him with a funny twist of his lips.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just…I like the place.” Tony replied casually, watching Bucky shrug as he gave a quick look around.

“S’nice enough. There’s mostly soldiers on leave, and dames nice enough to keep ‘em company.”

Tony hummed, looking around while Bucky leaned against the bar, waiting for the woman behind the counter to come to them. Only a couple of guys in there were wearing uniforms, but he supposed the other ones had merely chosen to go casual, like Bucky himself.

“You must’ve swept a lot of nice girls off their feet tonight.” With a hint of a teasing smile, Tony looked back up at the soldier. 

“Nah. Not with Steve around.” Barnes huffed, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe his own words. “Besides,” He met Tony’s gaze with a light shrug, and there it was. The smile that Tony had decided was dangerous territory for him. “I’ve got my eye on someone else already.”

“Oh. Have you, now.”

Bucky ordered two shots of red-eye in the end, and walked them to a small table that was already hosting a couple of empty glasses.  

Since Tony’s excuse for his abrupt disappearance had been work related, Bucky asked to know more about that job in mechanics, and Tony figured he ought to downplay it a little bit. Which didn’t mean he didn’t still get to show off and point out he could take apart and rebuild more efficiently any device or mechanic apparatus in that room (a kid’s job, really, that stuff was so obviously outdated in comparison to what Tony was used to that it was laughable). “C’mon, I don’t buy that.” Barnes laughed after he’d told him that, and that had led to a pop quiz about any kind of machinery the soldier could name, just to see if Tony really was full of shit. After a rather thorough explanation about the inner workings and wirings of a jukebox though, Bucky admitted defeat. Tony really didn’t mind the impressed look on the Sergeant’s face, in that moment.

Soon Steve joined in and sat with them, looking a bit blue. It wasn’t hard to understand what was the problem, given the frequent and brief looks the Captain sent a young woman’s way (when Tony realized she was Aunt Peg, he almost choked on his whiskey). And wasn’t it a sight to behold, the way Steve got flustered and looked away every time he was caught staring.

The conversation then inevitably shifted towards the war topic, with Steve and Bucky both preparing to leave and work together, for the first time. Tony knew, soon enough it would also be the last, for a very long time.

The mood was starting to get a little gloomy then, and Tony dealt with it as he always used to do, offering to go get another round of drinks. As he was going back to the table, someone juked in for a quieter song, and when Tony sat back down Bucky was in the middle of a whispering match with the Captain.

“C’mon, it’s the perfect time. Ask her to dance!”

“Buck,” Steve sighed, looking at his friend as if they’d had this kind of conversation about a million times before.

“She wants to dance with ya, Steve, she told you that right to your face, I was there!” The Sergeant persisted as Tony placed down their two drinks, following their exchange with an amused expression. Being Captain America’s wingman, that must have been an interesting job. “Go go go—” Bucky pushed his friend to his feet then, and gestured him to walk over where Peggy was. Steve complied with a hesitant look, though Tony doubted the super soldier had even noticed the push at all.

“Can he even dance?” Tony asked with a laugh, watching Steve walk across the room with a soldier’s stiff composure.

Frowning, Bucky opened his mouth and closed it again. “Ah, shit. Didn’t think about that.” He looked so genuinely concerned for a moment that Tony couldn’t hold back a laugh, and Bucky soon joined in.

“What about you?” Tony asked with a chuckle. “Are you good on your feet?”

Bucky adjusted his shirt, pulling it down a little bit as he pursed his lips in a smirk. “I’m good anywhere, hon’.”

The funny thing was, Tony could almost believe him right then and there. Good thing Barnes didn’t know that, and he definitely surprised Tony with his next words.

“If ya don’t believe me... Fancy a dance?” The soldier’s eyes were warm as he held his gaze, a playful glint in them. He chuckled and nodded towards the door when Tony gave him a very skeptical look. “Outside.”

Tony mulled it over. For about three seconds.

Oh well, he had never been one to deny people what they wanted, anyway.

They walked out of there and into a back alley, rather similar to the one he had appeared in, just behind the bar. A small rectangular window faced the backstreet, and even if the music coming out of there wasn’t as loud as it had been inside the bar, it could still do for a dance.

Barnes looked at him as if he was immensely enjoying his idea, even if they hadn’t gotten around to putting it in practice yet. Tony met him with an outstretched hand. “Shall we?” He asked with a flourish, and it only took Bucky a moment to smile and play along. “By all means.”

Joining their hands, Bucky moved up in front of him. “Nice ‘n’ easy, doll.” He spoke softly as he moved like he thought he would have to school Tony into position. Despite of the fluttering in his chest, the genius couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at him.

“Are you just assuming I can’t dance?”

“Can you?"

“Foxtrot, waltz, you name it.” Tony replied with a soft shrug of his shoulder. “I’d surprise you, Barnes.”

Bucky huffed. “That ya do, sweet thing.” He looked serious enough, but the grin was laced all over his tone

Nothing but an easy waltz skill was required, in the end. They kept to the simple swaying, slowly and side to side, in small steps with little travel and the occasional turning on the spot. Other than their hands, there was no skin-on-skin contact, but with the goosebumps that prickled at Tony’s arms and up the back of his neck, there might as well have been. If Barnes were to mention it, Tony would certainly blame the cool night air.

The was no way he would acknowledge the effect that Barnes seemed to have on him, no matter if only in his mind or aloud. That was a problem for another time, wasn’t it? Tony was a prodigy when it came to waiting to be alone and secluded in his workshop to let himself think about whatever mess he’d made that time. Right now, in any case, more pressing matters were on his mind. Like the fact that Barnes was standing so close he could smell him, the soft scent of soap and the thicker waves of whiskey. It was a bit intoxicating, and Tony had to hold back from moving any closer, perhaps to know whether the smell of soap came from his skin or his hair.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Bucky’s voice.

“Some enchanted evenin’,” Leaning his head against Tony’s, he sang, and Tony’s mind went blank.

“You may see a stranger, across the crowded room.” With his lips at the shell of Tony’s ear, a smile was clear in his voice. Tony shuddered. “Somehow you know, you gonna know even then—”  He laughed, low and throaty, and god, Tony felt every vibration of it.

He wetted his lips, tilting his head to look up at the soldier. “Well, aren’t you wasted as a Sergeant.” He huffed, trying play down the fact that he was almost positive his knees were giving out as the song went on. Bucky just chuckled, adjusting his hand so it covered Tony’s, and held them both against his chest. “You should be over there with a mic and a support band.”

“Think so?” The soldier looked down at him with a soft amused smile, and without thought, Tony slid his hand to the back of Bucky’s shoulder. Holy hell did he need to get a grip right now. “Night after night, strange as it seems,” Bucky continued, pleased smile on his face. “the sound o’that laughter s’gonna sing in all of your dreams.”

Their steps became smaller, devolving from a waltz into more of a contented sway. Tony closed his eyes for a little while, enjoying his mind for once being quiet. He could feel Barnes, close as they were, taking slow breaths.

“You do this regularly? You’re pretty good at finding quiet spots.” He asked after a minute.

“Not really.” Bucky replied with a lopsided smile. “Don’t really get much of a chance, ya know? This…ain’t the sort of thing one would want to get kicked out for.” He pulled away slightly to be able to look down at Tony, looking like he was trying to hold back a grin, not very successfully. “But for a type’a fella like you? I could take a few risks.”

Tony chuckled, shaking his head at him. “Oh please. Don’t sweet talk me, Sarge, I’m too old for that.” He said with a smirk.

“Too old? That’s bullshit right there, doll.” Bucky chuckled along, frowning down at him. With a smile, he ran his knuckle down Tony’s jaw, following the movement with his gaze. “Yeah, you’ve got a few years on me, sweetheart. Don’t see no problem in that.” He leaned forward to slip his hand behind Tony’s neck to draw him closer. Tony instinctively tilted his chin up at that. “They don’t grow fellas like you here. All strikin’ and smart and — science-y.”

That startled a laugh out of Tony, looking up at the soldier with a cunning smirk. Once their eyes met, he didn’t manage to look away. “S’not as difficult as it seems, you know?” He wetted his lips. “Even that flying car you like, that’s pretty basic physics.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows at that, a playful look on his face. They had stopped swaying a while ago, but Tony only registered it now, with Barnes looking down at him with such longing that if they had still been dancing, Tony was almost positive he would have tripped on his feet. “Yeah? Well, aren’t ya a smart cookie.” Bucky smiled, gaze fixed on Tony’s mouth as he leaned down. He stopped when they were less than an inch apart, and Tony would have closed that distance himself right away, he would have, but he hesitated a second from sealing the deal, the nerves returning full throttle, because shit, this was Barnes.

In a matter of one second he experienced a sudden, total awareness of the situation. Their frames not moving together anymore. Bucky’s hands on him, one covering Tony’s and one cupping his jaw. Bucky’s eyelashes dipped low as he looked down at Tony's mouth. Perhaps it would have been easier to let him do it, to let Barnes just close the distance himself. That way, whatever mess came from that, it wouldn’t be totally Tony’s fault, would it? He wouldn’t be the kisser, but the kissed. Totally different shares of blame there.

Then he caught Bucky looking back up into his eyes, and he promptly sent to hell any attempt at logic reasoning. “Oh, you’ve got no idea.” He breathed, his eyes fluttering closed a moment before their lips touched.

It was warm – really, really warm. Bucky’s lips were just as soft as they looked, and full and yielded perfectly to Tony’s own, molding over the older man’s as Tony pressed a little harder, and for two whole blissful seconds they were just two people in a back-alley sharing their very first kiss. Unfortunately, those two seconds passed. When it happened, Tony could feel something akin to a code-red alarm about to go off in the back of his head. His hand came up to grip at the front of Bucky’s shirt, quickly giving himself something else to think about.

It was no surprise how quickly Barnes responded to the kiss. With a sigh, Bucky’s hand moved to the back of his neck, pulling him in and keeping them together long enough that when they eventually broke apart they had to take a moment to catch their breath. When he opened his eyes Bucky’s expression was almost painfully hopeful and Tony, still dazed from the kiss, from the shock, took a second to loosen his grip on Bucky’s shirt and smooth his hands over his chest and shoulders.

Resting their lips together still, Barnes caught his eye for the briefest moment before he dived in again “Damn. You go straight to my head.” He breathed, pulling away just a fraction. “Where have ya been hidin’ all this time, sweetheart?”

“That’s a story for another time.”

Better not to breach that subject quite yet.

Tony ran his fingers into the soldier’s hair, effectively having a grip to pull him down to him, when something in Bucky seemed to still. Something seemed to stop him, and he pulled away the faintest bit.

“I’m shippin’ out in three days.” He said suddenly, an uncertain look in the way he furrowed his brow. “I thought—it was right to tell ya, Tony.”

He blinked, thrown on a loop by Bucky’s sudden announcement. “Oh.” Tony said, quite eloquently. It didn’t come to a shock that Barnes had to leave, what was shocking to him was that he’d wanted to tell him. Tony didn’t want to think about the implications of that. He put on a smirk. “Asking me to wait for you, Sarge?”

For the first time since he’d met the ‘past Bucky’, he looked hesitant, more cautious than before. “Jus’ thought, maybe…” He wetted his lips, his gaze landing on anything in that alley but on him. “I’ve been thinking ‘bout you. Wouldn’t mind knowin’ you thought of me, too, while I’m kickin’ ass in the Alps.”

Humming, Tony shooed away the memory of what he knew would happen to the 107^th battalion in Azzano. This was all too fucked up without taking that into consideration, too. “Are you really allowed to tell me that?” He asked, running his fingers up Bucky’s hair. “You know, ‘loose lips sink ships’ and all?”

At that Bucky seemed to find his mirth again, and bumped their noses together with a grin. “My lips are anything but loose, sweet thing.”

“Damn. You’re filthy, Barnes.”

Tony leaned up for another kiss and allowed the other to press up against him, curling his fingers into short brown hair until he felt a rumbling moan against him. He parted his lips as Bucky’s lower lip fell between his own, nipping at it lightly, and he was rewarded with a soft sigh and one arm moving around his back to pull Tony closer against him. When he finally met Bucky’s tongue, he went fucking weak in the knees.

“Feel like goin’ somewhere else? I’ve got a room just ‘round the corner.” Bucky breathed.

Barnes might as well have been reading his thoughts.

“My, my, Sarge. You’ll make me think you planned this.”

As they made their way to the makeshift rooms granted to soldiers with a brief leave, like Barnes, Tony couldn’t come to regret his decision. The moment they walked in, Bucky closed the door behind them and was on him again, knotting his fingers in Tony’s hair softly, pressing as much of his body as he could get against him.

Tony let out a small, soft sound of want, shoulders dipping, a leg threading between Bucky’s thighs to give him something to grind against, and the hot friction between his legs was enough to make the soldier moan against his mouth.

With palms pressed over Tony’s cheeks and moving down to his shoulders, Bucky walked them slowly backwards until the back of Tony’s knees hit the edge of the bedstead. He lost his jacket somewhere along the way and let out a soft huff as they stumbled on the bed, shifting backwards on the thin bedding while Bucky clambered on up over him. “So glad I saw ya the other night,” Barnes told him, pressing his lips to his neck. “I jus’ knew I had to go talk to you.”

In a moment where Bucky’s lips weren’t running up his neck and his whole body was pressed against him, Tony might have laughed at the cruel irony of Bucky’s words. At whatever weird scheme of things had brought Bucky to him, that night. He swallowed, looking back up at him. “Confident you’d drag me back here, Sarge?”

Barnes was unbuttoning Tony’s shirt, straddling his hips, a noticeable bulge growing in his slacks, and Tony couldn’t help but give it an experimental roll of his hips. Bucky gasped, fingers faltering as he pushed his hips into Tony’s.

“I would’ve let you drag me anywhere, Tony.”

With another kiss, the shirt came undone, and Tony swore he could pinpoint the moment Barnes took a look at his chest just by the way he tensed.

Ah, shit.

Tony schooled himself into taking a deep breath, and he tried to control the crippling urge to shy away from those fingers and that gaze. The mess of scar tissue that his chest was now, he had only ever shown that to Pepper, and even then, it hadn’t been pretty.

“Told you, I’ve had my share of war.” He murmured quietly, wishing he’d sounded more self-possessed.

Barnes looked at him for a moment, Tony meeting his gaze for just a second, then shook his head, and slowly leaned down to press a kiss just above the scar.

“You’re a survivor. Nothin’ wrong with that.”

Tony let out a shuddering breath, and just like that, their lips came together again in a long, slow kiss. Even with their bodies rested flush against each other, it was sweeter than the frantic desperation of before- gentle and unhurried, as if they had all the time in the world. Tony himself couldn’t say if that was the truth, or if that was the further thing from it.

The soldier hummed into the kiss, very softly, and Tony could feel the vibrations of it against his own lips. He gently sucked on Bucky’s bottom lip and it earned him a shiver, so he did it again, and again, until Bucky was moaning right along with him. And fuck, that felt good. That felt really fucking good. 

When they broke apart, they were both breathing very heavily again, Tony’s hands moving up Bucky’s thighs, feeling the heat even through fabric, before pulling him closer, rolling his hips up into the wonderful heat between Bucky’s legs. He did it slowly, letting them both feel every inch of each other grinding together, and Bucky groaned– a low, guttural sound that Tony eagerly swallowed, smiling when the soldier’s eyes fluttered close and his lips parted in a soundless gasp.

In a matter of seconds Bucky had his own shirt off of him and scattered somewhere near them, before reaching for Tony’s belt buckle and undoing it and his pants. Those were quickly gotten rid of, and Tony was just as quick to do the same for Bucky’s slacks.

Tony barely had the time to take a good look of the man now that most of the clothes were gone, before Bucky ushered him down again. His movements just a little bit more frantic, and kissed him firmly, his hands cupping Tony’s neck under his ears. Tony kissed back just as greedily and felt his hands trace over his chest and down his stomach, to hook into his boxers.

 “Fuck.”

“Ssh—” Bucky muttered, tilting his head so he could run his lips down the side of Tony’s neck, earning a shudder from the older man. “Hav’ta keep your voice down.”

As it later turned out, that was going to be harder than he’d thought.

“I was right ‘bout you.” Bucky said, voice barely more than a whisper as they laid curled on the small bed in a tangle of sweaty limbs. “Ya go straight to my head.”

Tony let himself smile, about to doze off. “I think I’m starting to understand what that means.”

With one arm around him, Tony allowed himself to admit this was the best damn mess he had ever gotten himself into. 

Hours later, as he woke up, a similar thought came up in his mind.

Tony ran a hand over his face, trying to rub the sleep off of him, before looking over at his side where Bucky was sleeping, chest naked if it wasn’t for his army tags, peaceful expression on his face and not looking like he was about to wake up anytime soon.

What a fucking mess.

Tony highly doubted himself to be ready for some pillow talk with Bucky Barnes about the night spent together. He also doubted most of the decisions that had led him there in that bed, in that moment. Ugh. He felt a headache lurking on the back on his head, and decided not to press those thoughts any further.

He closed his eyes, trying to keep them shut for a little while as he took a few steadying breaths. When he opened his eyes once more, his gaze landed on the soldier again. He looked untroubled in his deep sleep, with the steady rising and falling of his chest and the slight parting of his lips with each soft puff of his breath. He wondered if the Bucky of his time slept that peacefully, too. He doubted it.

He sat up with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he scanned the small room for his clothes. Maybe with his clothes on he would feel a little bit more like he had things under control. Wishful thinking, he knew, and he was proved right as he stepped into his shoes after he got dressed.

He looked over at Bucky, who let out a long exhale in his sleep.

Yep. Wishful thinking. Still freaking out.

Would it be a good idea to go back to bed with him? God, he wanted to go back to bed with him. Was that as bad as he thought it was?

With a barely suppressed sigh, he put down his jacket again, just as the now familiar portal opened under his feet.