Chapter Text
It was weird, the way something as final as dying could seem as easy as letting go, as taking another breath, as closing your eyes and letting yourself fall.
Easy.
But then again, death was the opposite of life and life was sort of unfairly hard so maybe it was intended balance that made dying so so easy.
Letting go. Taking another breath. Closing your eyes and falling—
— Tony used to love falling. He used to love the exhilaration and anticipation, the way his breath stuttered in that split second of flying before gravity took over. He used to love falling into a new habit, falling into a new love, just falling when he jumped from the diving board or the airplane or the rocks he’d climbed on as a child that he thought were so big and then realized as an adult they were merely stepping stones.
Tony used to love falling but that was before he fell from the rocks and skinned his knee and Howard yelled at him for being clumsy. Tony used to love falling but that was before he’d fallen in love and they’d laughed at his vulnerability and submission and teased that they’d expected different from a Stark.
Tony used to love falling, but that was before Afghanistan and Obadiah, before arc reactors that felt like gravity in his chest, before the suit shut down and he was staring at aliens through a wormhole that just days before had seemed impossible.
Tony used to love falling, but as his eyes opened wide to the horrors of another universe and JARVIS faded out and the wormhole started closing beneath him, all he could think about was how badly he needed someone to catch him.
But it was okay. Because falling was easy. And death would be easy.
All Tony had to do was close his eyes…
…Gravity.
It sank like a rock into Tony’s stomach, made his chest seize up and his lungs constrict and help help help it felt like he was suffocating, pinned under a ton of rock and drowning beneath the ocean and he couldn’t breathe.
Dimly. Voices around him and sunshine on his face and a dog barking in circles close by but Tony couldn’t open his eyes far enough to see. Electricity was shocking through his veins to his heart, itching under his skin and behind his temples and his head was pounding and it hurt.
“Hey hey, you’re okay.” someone whispered. “Come down right here like this, on your knees beauty, that will make it feel better.”
Never once had being on his knees made anything feel better and everything in Tony’s core revolted at the thought. He jerked forward and heaved, pitched forward and met prickly grass beneath his palms, dragged in a breath that didn’t seem to touch his lungs and vomited fear out onto the ground.
“Aw hell, he’s in a real bad way. No collar?”
Fingers at his throat and Tony’s mind flashed– rolled– gave in sluggishly to a blurry picture of Obadiah looming over him, the click of a terrifying device and the horrifying pull at his heart as the reactor had come loose.
“Babydoll, can you tell us your name?”
“T–Tony.” Something wet at his face like a wipe and Tony tasted blood and defiance, a too familiar voice telling him to settle and Tony suddenly remembered the disappointment on his hero’s face, the way the Captain had looked him over and then looked away like he was nothing and he flinched but then same familiar voice crooned “Easy darlin’, just settle, my name’s Steve and I’m going to help you.”
“Tony. My name’s Bucky, can I hold you? Help you through this real quick?” A different voice pitched low and coaxing, strong fingers in his hair and Tony thought he threw up all over again when Obadiah and that paralysis machine and the violation of heart and soul and body came roaring back to his mind.
“No.” he gasped, and the fingers let go. “No.” he said again and this time the world stopped spinning just a little bit, the input cleared enough for Tony to see the grass in his hands and the clear sky above him and two pairs of worried blue eyes in front and he opened his mouth to ask, “Who–?”
But then gravity kicked in and he was falling again, down and down and sinking and he was cold and he was shaking and it was like the night he’d discovered the icing problem– heart stopping fear and being trapped in what had made him so free just a moment ago, and the knowing he’d never escape this life and that it would eventually kill him–
Gravity, and Tony was falling.
Through the wormhole, through the sky, into the Earth and into the ocean, and there was no one to catch him.
“We’ve got you, sugar.”
“Hold on, sweetheart, we’ll take you home.”
“Pretty sub, don’t worry, you’re safe. You’re safe. Not gonna let anything get you.”
“You’re dropping, honey. Stop fighting it and let go, we’ll catch you. Let go. If you fight it, it’s only worse. Come on. You can trust us.”
“Trust us.”
“Let go.”
Let go.
Tony let go, let himself fall, and when strong hands caught him, all he could think about was how good it felt to finally be held.
***************
***************
He woke up suddenly, breaking free of a dreamless sleep and right into consciousness with a gasping breath and the sort of headache that usually only came after weekend of binge drinking.
Pepper would be pissed.
“Ow.” Tony whispered and dug the heel of his palm into his eyes until sparks popped behind them and forced his brain back online– click click click– cataloging information and putting together a timeline of what had happened and where he might be.
New York, aliens, wormhole. Darkness and JARVIS shutting down and dying. Sunshine and gravity and voices. Sick and hurt and strangling as he tried to breathe. Letting go and falling and– and somebody catching him.
There was a glass of water, a bottle of lemon lime Gatorade and a couple of ibuprofen on the bedside table and Tony automatically drank the water, popped the pills, then cracked the lid on the Gatorade and sipped slowly at it as he stared around the room.
The bed was small but the mattress was very high, a sure sign of the newer models which was a good thing since waking up in a strange bed was weird enough, waking up in on old bed would somehow be worse. The shades on the window were automatic and clearly expensive, though the clock on the wall looked like something out of the forties. Blankets were over clean and over fresh, so either just recently laundered or laundered and then folded away as a spare so this room must not be used very often.
Spare room meant a bigger apartment and maybe no kids, no carpet just nice flooring so maybe someone single who didn’t need the odd comfort thick carpet afforded or a couple who preferred less upkeep and cleaning. A folded up art easel in the corner along with a well used apron and rolled plastic sheet so–ah, definitely a spare bedroom, definitely not for kids. An artist then, which meant the window most likely faced East to get the most sunlight for painting which meant Tony could probably see the Tower from right here but hopefully not the wormhole cos please God tell him Natasha had closed the damn thing.
His suit had probably dismantled on the way down, but since he was alive it was more likely JARVIS had come back on line just long enough to slow his descent and let the suit take the brunt of the fall before peeling off around him. That would explain why he’d thrown up so many times, why he hurt all over, why his mind felt like scrambled eggs.
Falling and getting all banged up in the suit– made sense.
Tony would just ask the people that found him and carried him in from wherever he’d fallen to take him back towards the Tower. Should be easy, he was Tony Stark, Iron Man. Recognizable and thankfully pretty well liked among the masses and if anyone doubted he could always show them the arc reactor–
–that wasn’t in his chest, holy shit the arc reactor wasn’t in his chest and Tony’s hand pressed against nothing more than scarred skin beneath his t-shirt.
What?
His arc reactor wasn’t there and that more than anything sent a bolt of panic through Tony’s heart, through his mind, startling him into action so he could fling himself off the bed and out of the room, bumping into walls as he tried to find a bathroom and there, he just had to figure out how to work the doorknob with suddenly sweaty hands and push past the panic crawling up his throat so he could get to a mirror and see what the hell had happened.
“Oh heya babydoll!” Very big and very Brooklyn and very shirtless was standing in front the bathroom mirror, one hand poised to shave away some morning scruff and the other– well, the other one was no where because the man only had one arm and Tony kept staring at his face because he knew that face.
1945. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, best friend to Captain America. Fell off a train and everyone had searched, Howard had searched just like he’d searched for Captain for years but no one had ever found him.
Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky freaking Barnes.
“B–Bucky?” he asked slowly, incredulously, and a smile he’d only ever seen in old footage from the Smithsonian’s Howling Commandos Exhibit beamed back at him. “You’re Bucky?”
“Glad you remember that.” Bucky tapped his razor on the sink and finished up a few passes at his chin. “You were so out of it at the park, me and Stevie didn’t know how much you were processing. Can you tell me your name?”
“…Tony.”
“Good good, that’s what you told us.” he patted his face dry then turned and reached for Tony’s chin, turning his face both ways to check his eyes. “You feeling better?”
“Y-yes?” There was a tingle in the back of Tony’s mind that whispered submit when Bucky brushed a careful thumb over his cheek and that– that was embarrassing.
There’d been a time when Tony had thought about submission, hell there’s been a time when he craved it, but while he was in a stranger’s home and obviously concussed because he was hallucinating long dead soldiers from his dad’s days with SHIELD– well that was not the time. Not the time at all.
He wasn’t about to get subby and ridiculous over a pair of blue eyes and sort of unfair muscles and a striking resemblance to a war hero.
Nope. Nope. Not today. Not when there were aliens to clean up and a couple of spies to deal with and Pepper to try and talk out of furious hysterics and a Hulk and a demi-god and a super soldier–
“Tony!”
Tony would know that voice anywhere, even if it sounded less disapproving than last time, even if it almost sounded happy to see him. He would know that voice anywhere, and he flinched away from it, recoiled from a set of big hands reaching for him and the newcomer stopped a few feet away, mouth open and eyes hurt, hands up in surrender.
“No no, it’s alright babydoll.” Bucky wrapped his arm around Tony and hushed him. “No harm, Stevie maybe just move a little slower. I think he’s having a hard time coming out of his drop.”
“Oh hey, I’m sorry.” the blond offered with a quick smile. “Didn’t mean to rush you, Tony. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you, alright? I shouldn’t have raised my voice or came towards you so quickly. Sorry. Do you remember me?”
“S-Steve.” Tony stammered in disbelief, because it was right but it wasn’t right, this was a hell of a hallucination holy shit. “Steve?”
“Yeah, yeah that’s right. I’m Steve.” He moved slower this time, reaching out to cup Tony’s chin just like Bucky had done. “How are you feeling?”
“I–” Tony had to physically quell the urge to lean into Steve’s palm, to close his eyes and sigh at the gentle touch. It was a stupid reaction and a ridiculous thing to want so Tony leaned back entirely, even stepped away from Bucky and shook his head. “I’m fine, thanks.”
Bucky let him go without comment, but something like hurt flashed through Steve’s eyes again and Tony didn’t understand that at all.
“You need to take a shower, don’t you?” the big brunette decided and Tony actually had to clamp his mouth shut so he wouldn’t blurt yes sir in response to the question that had sounded more like an order. “You’ll call us if you need us, just shout and we’ll come running.”
“If you want one of us to stand in there too, that’s fine.” Steve spoke up and Tony swiveled with wide eyes towards him. “Coming out of a drop like this is brutal, a Dom’s presence would help. Either one of us are willing to be in there with you.”
Steve said it all like it was perfectly acceptable for him or Bucky to watch Tony shower, to share hot water with a stranger. And what did he mean a drop, what the hell was a drop and why did he call himself a Dom and-
“Easy easy, you’re fading again.” A solid hand at the back of his neck and Tony’s knees buckled under the weight. “We’ve got you.” A steadying grip at his waist, another lower on his hip to keep him from hitting the bathroom floor. “Oaky. You’re not ready for a shower.”
I’m not ready for a shower.
“I’m going to take you to the living room.” It was Bucky in his ear, soft and almost a drawl, an edge of Brooklyn accent coming through in a way that made Tony half hysterical, half thrilled. “Stevie, go and get one of our weighted blankets and the cloud pillow.”
“Yeah, Buck.” Steve moved on without another word, no hesitation in his step as he went to get what Bucky had asked for and Tony had only a moment to think how odd it was for the Captain to follow orders before Bucky was gently but firmly walking him out of the bathroom and towards a couch in the living room, lightly but purposefully directing him to sit, and clearly but kindly telling him,
“You need to sit, you need to breathe. Stay put.”
“Yep.” Tony nodded a few times and gripped hard at the couch to try and ground himself when Bucky’s hand left his side and he ended up feeling… feeling empty. “Yeah, I’ll– I’ll just stay here.”
It was sort of a relief to be told what to do, to have something that Tony didn’t have to think about because right now he was thinking about everything. Bucky had told him to sit so Tony would sit. Steve showed back up with a weighted blanket in the calmest shade of blue Tony had ever seen and when the blond ordered, “Relax.” Tony simply…simply relaxed.
Not thinking, just obeying and it was a relief.
It was a relief like falling was a relief, but falling wasn’t safe anymore so Tony pulled himself back from that particular edge and held on to the couch tight enough for his knuckles to turn white.
Not falling. Just obeying. Breathing and watching because even with the odd urge of submit lingering around the edges of his thought patterns, Tony couldn’t turn his brain off.
There was too much to know, too much to wonder, and too much to see.
Bucky moved like a man meant to be obeyed, a man used to barking orders and having them carried out without question and Steve looked like he would follow every one of those orders right off the side of a cliff if that’s what Bucky wanted.
And that didn’t seem right, because Tony knew the stories about Captain America and Sergeant Barnes, he’d seen the war time footage and the way Steve had snapped his fingers and Bucky had run to his side, the way they were always ‘Captain and his second in command’, ‘Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes’, ‘hero and sidekick’.
It didn’t seem right but there was something very right about the way Steve was every inch as big and powerful as he’d been facing down Loki in Germany and still somehow so soft around the edges when Bucky spoke. There’d been rumours about how close Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes really were back in the day, but seeing it for himself– or seeing a hallucination of it for himself– or a time travel flash back? Where the hell was he anyway?– seeing it for himself was almost devastating.
Steve orbited Bucky like a planet around the sun, Bucky looked up and smiled when Steve handed him a bottle of water and the blond might as well have hung the stars, they moved in close tandem and perfect rhythm and when Bucky caught Steve in close for a kiss, they fit together like two halves of a whole.
…and gravity ripped a jagged tear through Tony’s soul, wide enough to let the lonely rush through and wrap through his heart and suddenly all he could think about was Pepper and the way she’d kissed him goodbye like he was already gone as he’d flown off to join the Avengers. And Rhodey who had begged him to call just once before doing something stupid. And his Mama who would be proud of him and his Dad who hadn’t smiled even when he graduated college and oh fuck he was lonely, he was lonely–
Tony didn’t mean to whimper out loud, it was a thoroughly embarrassing noise and if there was any thing remotely normal about this day or this situation he would have coughed it off and made some glib comment and then poured himself a fucking drink to drown it all.
But there wasn’t anything remotely normal about anything, and Tony didn’t have a drink or the presence of mind to ask for one from the Sergeant and the Captain that were somehow not the men they were supposed to be but still two people that felt familiar down to Tony’s very bones.
They felt familiar and they felt right and he wanted to fall to his knees and cry but instead he just whimpered and two pairs of beautiful blue eyes snapped rough to look at him.
“Tony?”
Submit and this time Tony didn’t ignore it and he slid off the couch to his knees, bit off a sob as the loneliness turned suffocating and it was just like earlier when he couldn’t breathe and he was drowning and he was blurring and he was—
“We’re here.” It was Steve who came close first this time, looming tall over Tony and then meeting him there on his knees, gentle fingers up his neck and lightly at his cheek and Tony gasped out loud and grabbed at the blond’s wrist because he couldn’t stay there un- tethered, floating in uncertainty and fear.
“Oh sweetheart.” Steve sort of… sort of made a rumbling noise and it was instantly the most comforting sound in the world so Tony finally gave into the need to lean into Steve’s palm and rest his head.
“That’s good, beauty.” Steve whispered and something unlocked deep in Tony’s heart. “That’s good, you are so so good. So beautiful when you’re soft like this. I’ve got you. I can hold you when you’re down, I’m here.”
An arm at Tony’s waist and he was pulled in gently gently until his nose notched at the hollow of Steve’s throat and he whimpered all over again when he was surrounded by warmth and steadiness and could feel Steve’s heart beneath his hands where he was clutching tight to the button up shirt.
“You’re so good.” came the whispered reassurance and Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard those words, which meant this was definitely a Grade A hallucination, which meant he was either lost in some effect of the wormhole or lying comatose in a hospital bed after falling back to Earth but either way it was fine. It was fine because for the first time in his life Tony felt loose and pliant and safe, grounded and surrounded and held and it was fine and it was fine and his mind was spinning–
“Settle.” An order from Sergeant Barnes– from Bucky. “Sugar, I can see how hard you’re thinkin’ from right here. Settle down and breathe.”
Tony breathed, sharp inhale and a shaky exhale that left him drained and the second he obeyed another arm wound tight around him to hold him close.
“Holy hell, you’re about the prettiest sub I’ve ever seen.” Bucky murmured on his other side and Steve rumbled something in agreement. “Just gorgeous, sweet thing. Look how soft you are for Stevie, I love that. Good boy. Sweet boy, you’re doing wonderful.”
The praise was like balm to Tony’s battered heart, and his last thought before letting go and slipping towards darkness was about heaven, about soft lights and quiet music and none of the noise that clamored in his head all the time.
Heaven, because his brain could snap back into gear later and he could figure it all out later and make up for lost time later.
Heaven, because lips brushed over his temples and a deep voice crooned, “You’re such a good sub, sweetheart.” and it was the best thing Tony had ever heard in his life.
Heaven.
**************
**************
“He doesn’t have a collar, Buck.” Steve twisted the heavy ring around his finger anxiously, rubbing his thumb over the raised symbol that marked him as Dominant, the pale aquamarine in the center that marked him as Bucky’s. “There isn’t very many reasons why a sub would be dropping in the middle of the park without a collar on.”
“Only two by my count.” Bucky took a long drink of his beer and didn’t take his eyes off Steve, checking the other Dom’s posture, the stress lines between Steve’s eyebrows, the muscle jumping in his jaw as the blond ground his teeth together. “He’s recently out of a bad break up and left his claimed collar behind without purchasing a white neutral one, emotions are running high and something set him off so he slid.”
“Or?” Steve asked tersely, knowing damn well what else Bucky would say.
“Or his collar was removed during a scene that got outta control.” Bucky grimaced, flexing his fingers to show off the Dominant ring on his right hand. “He ran, didn’t come outta the scene properly and dropped right there in public.”
“Neither of those scenarios are good ones.”
“Nope.” Steve kept twisting his ring and Bucky kept watching. “He’s not a switch, Stevie, not with the way he went down.”
“Nope.” the other Dom echoed. “Not a switch. Did you see how he looked when I held him?”
“The way he curled into you all sweet like that?” Bucky shook his head. “Yeah baby I saw it. Definitely a sub, definitely got into something he couldn’t handle and ended up fuckin’ vulnerable in the middle of the street. It’s a good thing you saw him when you did.”
“It was like something called me over there.” Steve confessed quietly. “Like the way it felt when you and I figured out we were in love. Called me right to him like he had been dropped there waiting for us.”
Bucky stayed quiet a minute, brows raised and his partner finished, “Don’t like that he jerked away from me that first time though, what do you think that was about?”
“Lotsa subs pull away from strange Doms, Stevie.” Bucky reminded him. “Maybe you look like his ex and that far into a drop he couldn’t separate you two. He cuddled right up a minute later though, right? Settled in all sweet against your heart?”
“Yeah.” a reluctant smile pulled at Steve’s mouth. “Yeah, he sure did. Never held anyone half as sweet as him, Buck.”
“Well I’m the only one you’ve held since we were fuckin’ kids.” Bucky grinned and kicked out at the other Dom. “You sayin’ I’m not sweet?”
“I’m saying when it comes time for one of us to be real pretty on our knees, it’s never you.” Steve corrected, and when Bucky’s eyes lit like pale lightning, the blond swallowed back a hungry jolt and whispered, “And I know you think I’m pretty when I go down for you too, Buck. But there’s somethin’ special about the way Tony is like that with us. We’ve never even taken him down, not proper, not yet. But just bringing him through that drop….”
His voice trailed off and Bucky shifted forward in his seat, propped his chin up his hand and warned, “He could be somebody’s sub, Stevie. Be careful.”
“He could be our sub.”
“The reasons why he’s not wearing a submissive’s collar could be pretty fucked up, babydoll. We don’t know what sorta baggage he’s got.”
“Yeah, or he might be a sub that refuses to even wear a neutral white one.” Steve countered. “Some subs don’t wear a collar until they find a Dom they’d be proud to claim as their own.”
“Stevie–”
“Tell me you don’t look at him and want him right here.” Steve tapped at his chest a few times. “Right here, Bucky. The way you wanted me, remember?”
“You think I don’t remember th’day I got to call you mine?” Just to remind his love, Bucky lifted one heavy foot and thumped it down, inclined his head towards the floor and just like Steve did every time his Dominant wanted, he went to his knees between Bucky’s spread thighs and let his body roll lax and submissive.
“Fuck me runnin’, you’re gorgeous.” Bucky muttered roughly, winding thick fingers into Steve’s hair so he could direct a searing, claiming kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Steve was every inch a Dominant in every moment but this, and he melted beneath Bucky’s lips, trusting and whole heartedly belonging to the man he adored. “Bucky, just tell me–”
“Tony is a submissive desperate to be held.” Bucky interrupted, tugging on the blond strands until Steve’s head fell back obediently. “And I’m pretty fuckin’ desperate to hold him. We’re gonna take it one day at a time, one moment at a time and if Tony wants to stay then he has a place to stay.”
“Yes sir.” Steve nodded.
“If Tony doesn’t want to stay, he doesn’t have to.”
“Yes sir.”
“You want him?”
“I– I think I need him.”
“Okay then.” Another kiss, soft and sweet and achingly tender. “If you need him, I need him too. Call Clint and tell him we’re not hanging out tonight. Tell him we’re busy. I’m going to order food, we’ll wake Tony up again and then we will eat together.”
“Yes sir.”
“Stevie?” Bucky waited until those gorgeous blue eyes met his. “Get up off your knees and kiss me like a Dom, sweetheart.”
“Mmm, my pleasure.”