Bucky's hand paused in its movement. There was no need for his key – the door was already unlocked and open. The lights in his apartment were on and soft rock music could be heard through the open door. Frowning, he readied his gun and pushed the door open farther. But there was no villain waiting to jump him on the other side of the door – no Nazi whispering words that would cause him to lose control of himself. Instead, he found Tony Stark helping himself to the mediocre contents of Bucky's fridge in the kitchen.

"Your curtains are awful. They let you live like this?"

Lowering his weapon, Bucky gave the intruder a flat look. "I could have killed you."

"Ah, but you didn't. Lucky for me, I suppose."

"Stark, what are –"

"Drop the formality. You didn't seem to have any trouble with my first name in Bruges."

Bucky watched, somewhat flabbergasted, as his 'guest' made a peanut butter sandwich, loaded some chips onto a plate, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and breezed past Bucky to take a seat on the shabby couch as if he owned the place. (Which there was no way he did, what with the sorry state of the establishment. Stark usually never so much as looked at a building like Bucky's, much less enter one willingly.) Following the inventor with his eyes, Bucky asked again, "Why're you here?"

"After I'm done eating this family delicacy, I plan on fixing that arm of yours and then getting in a good shag," the billionaire announced before taking a generous bite out of his sandwich. With his mouth full, he managed to somewhat disgustingly get out, "If you're amenable to that."

"How'd you know I was back?" Bucky asked instead, shifting to lean against the wall.

"You have your secrets and I have mine."

Bucky pursed his lips. It didn't necessarily bother him that Stark knew he was back early from his mission; it was just now he couldn't surprise the man like he had intended on doing. "How'd you know my arm got messed up?"

Stark took another large bite of his sandwich and gave Bucky a level look. In return, Bucky sighed and let his head fall back against the wall. "So Nat's your informant."

"She said you'd be better off if I came 'round a bit earlier than expected."

"She needs to stay out of my business."

"Or get involved more often." Stark lowered the plate to his lap and gave Bucky a critical eye. "She said things didn't exactly go as planned…which is why you're home early." He lifted the plate back up to his chin to catch any crumbs as he took another bite and let the moment settle between them. "Want to talk about it?"

The easiness with which Stark asked the question caused Bucky to push off of the wall and wander over to the couch. He sank down beside Stark and let his head fall against the back of the couch. He didn't look at Stark but felt the inventor put a warm, comforting hand against his thigh.

"I'm almost done here but I can eat while I work if you'll let me take a look at your arm. It'll make all the boring stuff go by faster so we can get to the fun stuff."

Bucky resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You never think my arm is boring."

"Hm. Got me there. I don't think a single thing about you is boring."

Bucky shifted his head so that he could catch Stark's eye. The inventor was smiling. Bucky groaned at the cheesiness of it but didn't shift away from Stark. Instead, he closed his eyes and let the heat of Stark's hand ground him. The mission had been a failure with many innocent casualties and Bucky felt his resolve slipping. He knew there was a bottle of scotch tucked away beneath his bed but the super serum would slow down the steady degeneration of his liver. He could always resort to more extreme measures but he supposed that was why Stark was here.

For a few moments, the only sounds to be heard were the rock music playing out of Bucky's old record player in the corner of the room that Stark always teased him about, and Stark's chewing. It's good that he's eating, Bucky thought to himself in the stillness. I never know if he eats when he spends all day and night in the lab. He may be an annoying prick when he drops in to see me but at least I know he's eating. He was about to ask Stark what the inventor had gotten up to while he was away when Stark leaned over and pressed his lips against Bucky's cheek. He gave a small start at the contact – gentle displays of pleasure were still somewhat foreign to him since he became the Winter Soldier – but Stark was still wearing that insufferable grin when Bucky opened his eyes and landed his gaze on him.

"What was that for?" Bucky asked, ignoring the rough edge to his voice.

"Missed you. Glad you're back."

The honesty in Stark's eyes with those simple words made Bucky breathless. He was left gaping at Stark in wonder as the inventor quickly stood up, brought his plate to the kitchen, washed it, and then downed half his beer in one go before turning back to face Bucky. There was the slightest trace of pink in his cheeks.

"Right. Arm first - sex later."

XXXX

Author's Note: This will be the first in a series of one shots for these two guys that I'm going to write. You can also find me on AO3 at swankyturnip76 or on tumblr at swankaliciouschekov to send prompts.