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Tony is heading to the gym for Steve’s newly mandated team training time and yeah, he’s late, but he does have coffee. So at least he’s on brand.
It looks like everyone else has beat him here, which isn’t really surprising, and Tony tosses out a grin and wave in response to the unimpressed look Steve shoots him.
Then his eyes land on Bucky. Who is doing one armed pushups. Completely vertically, pointed toes up in the air and strands of hair falling loose around his face where it’s come loose from the hair tie. And he is in yoga pants.
They hug his calves, his ass, his thighs, tight black spandex with gray piping up sides and Tony is weak.
Forget team bonding, Tony needs to get out of here right now, before he makes a fool of himself. Except he spins too quickly, hot coffee sloshing over the rim of his mug and onto his fingers, and he’s so busy hissing over the sharp burst of pain that he walks straight into the door as it swings shut.
“Ack, fuck,” Tony gasps, more hot coffee splashing out across his hand, rubbing at his forehead and apparently he’s a little dizzy because he goes to take a step back and tilts to the side instead, bouncing off the wall.
He’s almost caught his balance, and then he trips over Sam’s stupid jump rope, and then his thighs hit the weight bench and he tumbles backwards over it, the last dregs of his coffee somehow ending up entirely on his chest.
“Damnit Wilson,” Tony grumbles, “I knew you were out to get me!”
There’s a soft chuckle from somewhere above him, and Tony pries his eyes open. He’s half expecting to see Sam, ready to defend himself and deny that he’s trying to kill Tony with workout equipment even though he very clearly is.
Instead it’s Bucky, leaning over him all shirtless and sweaty and concerned.
“You okay, doll?”
When Tony tries to speak all that comes out is a strangled gurgling sound, and Bucky’s concerned look gets deeper.
-
“Gross, they’re doing it again,” Sam complains, pausing mid situp to shoot a glare across the gym.
When Steve glances away from sparring with Natasha she takes the opportunity to pop him in the throat.
“This isn’t even funny anymore,” Natasha says while Steve coughs and hacks and gives her a dirty look.
“It stopped being funny weeks ago,” Rhodey says as he leans against the ropes of the boxing ring and shakes his head in disappointment.
“You’re just saying that because that’s when you were officially out of the betting pool,” Clint says with a snort.
“I really didn’t think it would take them this long,” he says with a morose sigh, “I’m ashamed.”
Steve makes a sound that might be agreement.
“New bet, how much worse can it possibly get?” Sam tries to joke, but he has a terrible feeling that it’s not a joke at all.
“I think we’re all the losers in that bet,” Natasha says as they all watch Bucky help a still clearly-swooning Tony out of the gym.
The poor pining morons don’t even notice they have an audience. Just like Bucky somehow doesn’t notice that Tony is literal putty in his hands, and Tony mysteriously doesn’t notice Bucky giving him the sappiest heart eyes ever.
It’s shameful, is what it is.
-
Tony lets Bucky drag him into the kitchen, sinks onto one of the stools when gently pushed in that direction, and he’s becoming uncomfortably aware that his shirt is still splattered with cooling coffee and probably clinging to his chest.
He should probably go change, and then maybe go hide out somewhere until he figures out how to deal with Bucky in yoga pants.
But before Tony can figure out how to convince his legs to actually move, Bucky is done digging around in the freezer and by his side again.
“Ow,” Tony says with an exaggerated wince as Bucky presses a bag of ice to the back of his head, and then nearly melts out of his seat when Bucky shushes him with a wide palm running down the back of his neck.
He’s not actually as rattled as Bucky seems to think he is, but Tony certainly isn’t going to correct him. It’s a much safer excuse than admitting his brain went to mush the second he saw Bucky’s thighs, all wrapped up and accentuated in tight black spandex, and it still hasn’t quite come back online.
From here, with Bucky standing beside him and gently holding his head still while Tony stares studiously at the floor, all Tony can see of Bucky is his foot. The tight black fabric ends just above the delicate bones of his ankle, his bare toes wiggling against the tile floor as he pulls the ice away and inspects Tony’s head.
Forget getting his brain working again, Tony is just trying to keep his stupid heart from crawling its way up his throat over ankles. Like some kind of repressed Puritan, Jesus.
Which means he can’t at all stop himself from nervously stuttering out “Those-those are uh, nice... you like yoga pants huh?”
There’s a vague sense of motion beside him, like Bucky is shrugging, as he says “They’re comfortable.”
“Uh huh, they-“ Tony starts to say, and then nearly swallows his tongue when Bucky steps around in front of him again.
His eyes automatically drag upwards, and it takes everything Tony has not to let himself linger, not to get caught staring at the frankly mouthwatering bulge of Bucky’s cock that his skin tight leggings are not doing a very good job of hiding.
He jerks his gaze up higher and it doesn’t help because oh god there’s Bucky’s chest, still bare and so close and by the time he finally manages to make himself look up at Bucky’s face he can’t breathe.
“They- uh, s-sure look it,” Tony stutters out, and furious blushing is totally a symptom of a concussion, right?!
Bucky’s smile stays warm and friendly, so he’s probably alright.
And all Bucky says is “You should try them! I can send you the site I got ‘em from, Nat recommended it to me.”
“Okay,” Tony squeaks and damnit he’s actually going to have to buy some yoga pants now. There’s no other way to play off his sudden fascination with them.
-
A week later, everyone has lost the bet.
They find the two morons asleep together on the couch, legs tangled and blankets wrapped around them both.
The entire team agrees it’s the most disgusting thing they’ve ever seen.
-
Steve is taking his frustrations out on a punching bag when Bucky suddenly ducks behind the bag, grabbing it and holding it still so he can hide behind it.
“What is this, why are you doing this?” Steve demands, rhythm thrown and half-debating just punching the bag anyways in the hopes that it’ll shake Bucky loose.
“Steve,” Bucky hisses, like he somehow hasn’t noticed that he already has Steve’s full attention, “Steve, I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
“What are you talking about?”
Bucky’s head pops out from around the punching bag, eyes fixed on something across the gym as he hisses “Tony bought yoga pants.”
Steve turns and sure enough, Tony and Natasha are standing near the sparring mats in matching black and gray patterned spandex.
“Does Nat get money every time she talks someone into buying those?” Steve has to wonder, because she has been relentlessly texting him the link too.
“Steve,” Bucky hisses again, “Steven. I can’t- how do I even- Steve-“
“What?!” Steve demands impatiently, because he really wants to go back to punching things, and not thinking about the awkward mating dance of his best friends.
“Look at his ass!”
Steve huffs and resists the urge to gag at the open reverence in Bucky’s tone. He does turn though, just in time to watch Tony bend over in a low stretch.
“Perfect little bubble, I just wanna bury my face in it and live there,” Bucky sighs.
“Huh,” Steve says, tilting his head a little to get a better view because damn, Bucky is not exactly wrong- “Ow!” He squawks when Bucky swings the punching bag into him, “you’re the one who told me to look!”
“Not like that!” Bucky snaps back. It looks like he’s considering hitting Steve with the punching bag again, and Steve holds up a single finger in warning.
“Do not,” he says sternly.
Bucky settles for just hugging the bag instead, gaze already drifting across the gym again. Steve has a terrible feeling he’s not going to get back to his workout.
“Please just ask him out,” Steve says plaintively, “pretend to act like a functional person.”
“How am I supposed to function when faced with The Most Amazing Ass Ever™️?!” Bucky demands, and then makes a weird whimpering sound as Tony no doubt does something. Like existing.
Steve refuses to look over, instead just sighing out “Get off my punching bag, you’re making this so weird.”
“I’m filin’ a complaint,” Bucky says, clearly not listening to him anymore and still staring with rapt attention at where Tony is apparently doing something fascinating. “These pants are supposed to be ‘super stretchy’ but they clearly did not count on boners cuz my dick is strangled.”
“Excuse me,” Steve says, already walking away, “I need to go vomit.”
Hell, next week he might skip mandatory team training.
-
Tony is laying on his stomach on the common room floor, propped up on his elbows as he pokes at his phone and kicks his feet lazily in the air.
He’s wearing bright red yoga pants today, and even Clint is not immune.
He catches himself after a couple seconds of staring at the swell and bounce of Tony’s ass, and gives himself a vigorous shake. That’s a good way to earn the Winter Soldier Death Glare.
Even if said Winter Soldier is too much of a disaster to actually do anything about his super obvious crush.
“So are yoga pants just the new thing?” Clint asks, climbing over the back of the couch and keeping his eyes safely on Tony’s face, because he does not want to be assassined to death today. “You’re just gonna wear them all the time?”
“They’re comfortable,” Tony says with an absent shrug, then grins up at Clint and wiggles his eyebrows as he adds “Plus, they make my ass look great.”
And Clint can’t exactly argue that, so instead he just flatly says “You’re going to give Barnes a heart attack.”
Tony looks confused for a split second, and then smiles widely.
“Because I pull them off so much better than he does?” he asks, striking a pose, and Clint seriously considers running away to join the circus. Again.
He’s not even sure if things will actually be better if they eventually get together at this point.
He should make that the new bet.
-
“I’m just saying,” Tony insists, and then raises his voice when Steve put his head down on the table and starts humming under his breath, “If I thought Bucky was actually interested, I would 100% be here for him. With open arms-“
“Well that’s actually kind of-“
“And open legs-“
“Tony-“
“And an open mouth,” Tony finishes, grinning and winking when Steve looks up at him with a glare.
“Tony, please, I don’t want to hear this,” Steve says, hands over his ears and he does actually look a little green.
“This is nothing,” Tony says with a scoff, giving Steve an unimpressed look, because he is weak. “You should hear the shit I say to Rhodey.”
“I would like to hear those things,” says a voice directly behind him.
Tony freezes, his entire body going cold, because he knows that low, warm, rumbling voice. He hears it in his dreams, and oh no oh no oh no, now Bucky knows.
So much for his plausible deniability.
His brain kind of goes staticy with panic for a second, and he’s only dimly aware of Steve rolling his eyes.
“Yeah my part in this conversation is done,” Steve says, and promptly bails.
When Tony’s brain finally reboots he finds that Bucky has taken Steve’s seat across the kitchen table.
Bucky is also just grinning at him, like he doesn’t find Tony’s borderline-obsessive crush at all creepy.
All Tony can think to say is “What.”
And then he realizes he doesn’t actually want an answer, doesn’t want to find out if Bucky is going to make fun of him, or if he thinks it’s all a joke. He can’t decide if that would actually be better or worse than being turned down gently, and he doesn’t intend to stay and find out.
“I’m just...” Tony sputters, face burning as he flails his way out of his chair, “Gonna- gonna go. Run away. Yep.”
“Wait,” Bucky says, eyes wide and halfway out of his own chair.
Tony freezes, because Bucky looks a lot like he feels. Thrown, surprised, confused and so hopeful that it’s terrifying.
“I-I’d like it if you stayed,” Bucky says slowly, then smiles crooked and nervous as he adds “Not that I don’t like watchin’ you walk away.”
It startles a laugh out of Tony, face flushing as he sinks back into his chair. “Okay,” he says, heart racing and smile almost painfully wide, “um, what?”
Bucky laughs, soft and low and warm, and finally finishes reaching across the table to take Tony’s hand in his own.
-
Clint wins the bet on how much worse their lives get once the love-struck morons start making out all over the place.