Metal fingers caress the pouty lips, and he pulls away to kiss his fingers, inhaling the scent of his brunet from his fingers. Tony’s body slowly stops shaking and he can hear the deep voice ordering him to relax, he attunes his ears to listen to it instead of the angry voice of Rogers echoing and hammering in his brain and the nightmare stops with his lips feeling the tantalising warmth.įor a genius, Tony never questions his sudden change.Įvery night, Winter enters the workshop as soon as Tony drops dead on the sofa to sleep and sits by his lounge to watch over his soulmate.
There was that same voice again, sounding scared and worried over him. The soldier knows Tony rarely catches hours of sleep and has seen him suffer from nightmares, and he is someone who is prone to Bucky waking in the wee hours of the night with haunting memories of his past murders.
So, he starts to sneak inside the workshop using Bucky’s access to it for getting his metal arm fixed, and Tony never bothers to revoke the access, which works in favour of the soldier, who now stands by the window to trace Tony’s features with his eyes, and that is when he sees it-the violent shiver that crumples and covets the peace from Tony’s countenance. The gentle sears on his mark of the reactor turn to pleasurable ripples. The soldier realises after days he needs more than a portrait view of him from afar through the window. He visits the brilliant billionaire’s lair on the lower ground floor every night, at first to steal a glance at his beautiful, comely countenance. Tony Stark’s quick wit, snarky lips, and sharp tongue rope the soldier on a leash. The tattoo that appears across his skin, the design of the arc reactor burning on his nape, is hidden beneath the thick mop of long hair. The soldier comes to the surface to seek out the man who handles guns like they’re Legos. More likely, the soldier is awakened when Bucky’s at his most vulnerable state, when he toils the whole day and shuts his eyes for slumber. The Winter Soldier is dead is pronounced amongst the Avengers the codes in Bucky’s head are cleansed and washed never to be used to manipulate the innocuous man they are all but mere Russian words.īucky doesn’t know that he was less the Brooklyn soldier that went into war and more the man he was over the seven or so decades he was tormented and survived. When Bucky wakes up, he blinks the remnant of the sleep from his heavy lids and looks around the room, he’s cocksure he was in the gym pulling weights, and he ponders yet again how he’s back inside his room, lips tingling from the touch of another pair of lips. Tony moans at the loss of the warm lips and nods, sleep slowly rocking him to the abyss. The kiss was for breathing life back into the drowning man. Tony thinks kissing is better than breathing, but the soldier disagrees, saying, “I need you breathing normally for me, doll.” “Winter is wonderful when you spend it with someone, loneliness leaves a person colder even during summer.” The soldier agrees and kisses him deeply, pulling him out of his nightmares. “I feel warmth blooming across my chest, butterflies erupting in my stomach, and my lips longing for more.” Tony’s voice whispered, tremors in his body halting and responding to the touches. Warmth touches his pale and cold lips, breathing life into him. He cannot he is bound by the ropes of the wounds, dragging him deeper within the glacial waters, his body frozen in terror and heartbreak. “Fuck! Tony, wake up, you’re dreaming, come back to me now!” The subdued resignation in Tony’s brown eyes and gnashed chest haunts them his whiskey eyes and golden shimmer fade and dull, and his body shakes from the trashing. Love doesn’t hurt, love doesn’t betray, love doesn’t kill, and love doesn’t harm. With the same bloody hands that caressed me with lust,’ Tony doesn’t say the word love.
‘Get the fuck out of here, liar.’ Tony spat more blood and dropped his broken gauntlet on the snow.īut the pair of boots doesn’t walk away the shield is grabbed and angled at him again. Blue eyes stared down at him with pity and contempt, and another pair of stormy blue eyes gazed at him with fear and regret.
Tony spat the blood from his mouth and inhaled, coughing as his lungs burned from the exertion. Blood everywhere, his hands tainting scarlet, his chest ripped open by the shield and bleeding, the purest and fairest snow tainted with crimson, tears, and sweat.
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