So, the Christmas tree was lovely and the lights were pretty and the stars twinkled and all the shit, but Tony was really, truly ready to go the fuck home already.
”Could you stop twitching, man?” Clint hissed.
”It’s cold. I hate it,” Tony snapped while keeping his smile plastered on. After all, he was Tony fucking Stark, he could look like he was having the time of his life while freezing his balls off.
Around them, the festivities were in full blast. The Annual Avengers Christmas Ball For Children was a new thing, something Pepper and SHIELD’s PR team had cooked up to lift the spirit of the nation. It included a massive tree, food, presents, live reindeers, and—of course—the Avengers.
And while Tony was ready to do a lot for kids, including but not limited to wear a Santa’s Helper hat, he’d rather do it somewhere warm.
”Isn’t the aversion to cold supposed to be more of a Steve thing?” Clint asked.
”Yes, because the only reason you won’t like the cold is if you’ve been playing capsicle for 70 years,” Tony deadpanned.
”Sheesh, don’t get all pissy on me, princess,” Clint muttered. ”So sorry if you were a rich kid who never had to deal with cold. Not all of us were so lucky.”
Tony upped the wattage of his best media smile and said, ”Yeah, so unfortunate.”
When they finally made it back to the mansion, he felt cold to the core. Without a word, he marched into his bedroom and right next to the blazing fire, standing as close as he dared. He didn’t take off his parka, just opened the fly to let warmth in.
It didn’t help.
For the briefest moment, he wondered if he could warm up his fingers faster if he thrusted them straight into the flames.
He closed his eyes and shuddered. There was a reason he had a house in Malibu. Cold always made him morose, brought back scattered memories of long nights spent huddling under a threadbare quilt in the subzero temperatures, of tears freezing on his lashes, and of shivering so violently he’d dropped the hot chocolate mug Jarvis had given him. The skin on his right thigh was still slightly white from where it had been burned.
He startled slightly when the door opened but didn’t bother looking up. Pepper was in LA so there was only on person who would enter.
”You okay, doll?” Bucky murmured as he wrapped his arms around Tony’s middle and hooked his chin over his shoulder.
”Getting there.”
Bucky hummed a tuneless sound and Tony enjoyed the way it vibrated against his back.
”You wanna talk about it?”
Tony snorted. ”Talk about what? About me snapping at Clint or about the way my dad used lock me out in the cold because he thought it would help to make me a man? Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
”Okay,” Bucky said easily.
This thing between them was pretty new but he was liking it so far. Bucky didn’t try to analyze him or push him to talk about his feelings like Pepper or Rhodey, or apologize for knowing a Howard who had been a decent human being like Steve tried to do. Bucky just nodded, stored the information, and let Tony be. Perhaps it was because Bucky himself was still brittle and trying to find his way back to himself after decades of abuse.
They stood there for a good while, the fire warming Tony up from the front and his own personal super soldier heater on his back. He felt good, like he could let go for a while.
”Wanna come and watch me beat Clint’s ass in Mario Kart so that he gets so worked up that he falls from the couch?” Bucky asked.
Tony snorted, an undignified sound that carried a sob underneath. ”Again? Hell yeah.”