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Bucky wanted to do this for himself, but also for Tony.
He wasn’t sure when was the first time he got this idea – well, that wasn’t true, was it? He wanted a replacement since he had first truly realized what the red star symbolized on his shoulder. It was the emblem of an unjust and totalitarian system, it was a brand of organizations that used and abused him and stripped him from his humanity. Of course he wanted that mark to be gone – but it wasn’t that easy.
Even if got the star off of his shoulder, he carried it around on a deeper level too. It was burned into his soul, deeper than flesh, it was staining his very essence through the crimes he had committed while under the control of his captors. So when his first attempts to scratch the star off of the metal plates proved to be in vain, he left it to that. It didn’t worth the effort, and he had more pressing issues while on the run, situations to handle and problems to solve and people to run away from. Maybe one of those people was he himself.
*
But then he didn’t run anymore, and he surrendered to the Avengers.
He surrendered because he remembered, more and more each day, and he wanted to atone for his sins – or suffer the punishment for them. And who else would be a better judge for him than one of the people who he had wronged so terribly? The man who was an orphan because of him, the man who understood life and death better than most due to his own close calls and experiences?
No, Bucky didn’t surrender to the Avengers, not even to Steve Rogers.
At that time Bucky was sure Steve wouldn’t understand what being branded meant, and wouldn’t see Bucky clearly for what he had been and what he was and what he would be in the future, if he had a future.
He surrendered to Anthony Edward Stark.
And Anthony Edward Stark decided that the former Winter Soldier was worth to live.
*
Tony not only left him alive.
Tony took him in, made him one of them, offered absolution.
It took a long while for Bucky to be able to accept it.
And in the process, Bucky inevitably fell in love with Tony. There was nothing surprising in that: the man wasn’t only a genius and a superhero, but he was kind and caring and soft and vulnerable under all the glitter and glamour and façade. Bucky loved him, in and out of his armors – both physical and mental ones – loved the personas he had built up and the person underneath them.
What was truly surprising was that somewhere along the way, Bucky’s feelings got reciprocated, and when Bucky had been cleared of all charges in front of the law and government (also thanks to Tony and his lawyers, especially Murdock), they left the courthouse hand in hand as a unit.
Tony loved him just as fully as Bucky loved him. Tony loved him with his past, with the blood on his hand and the star on his shoulder, with the scars on his skin and soul.
Tony kissed the cold center of the red star, and Bucky kissed the warm smoothness of the reactor, and they fell asleep in each other’s arms, content and happy at last.
*
Life with the Avengers, being together with Tony provided an opportunity for Bucky to think, to heal. The more time had passed, the more uncomfortable he became with still wearing the star.
He knew it was part of him – his past, his captors, his sins – but as time went on, he started to understand that it was just that and not more. It was his past , and he was allowed to learn from it and then move on. He couldn’t get rid of it fully, but he could decide how much he let it weigh him down. He even could decide to wear something that pointed forward, something about his present or future, if he was brave enough for it.
He wondered if he should paint it over with white, and add the circles around. It sure would have been better than the red star, but Bucky also realized that he wouldn’t want that symbol on him either. That shield belonged to Captain America, and Bucky never particularly cared for Captain America. He cared for Steve, underneath the cowl. He cared for his golden heart and his noble ideals and his reckless kindness. Captain America was a tool, a mantle, an image twisted over the decades and now reclaimed by Steve, and Bucky never even liked it particularly. Steve made Captain America great, because he himself was great, and Bucky would wear Steve on himself in a heartbeat, on any day, but not Captain America.
He still followed the little guy from Brooklyn, not the superhero.
No, Bucky needed something else. And probably someone else.
The one to whom he owed everything he had, the one who made all of his settled life possible, the one who made his days not only bearable but delightful and full of love.
*
He discussed it with his therapist, then with Steve. After all, he wanted Steve to do this for him, if it was possible at all.
Steve squared his shoulders like usual, clasped his hands on his belt, and eagerly promised that either it was possible or was going to be by the time Bucky wanted it.
Later, when Steve painted the arm with the tip of his tongue sticking out with the focused effort, Bucky wondered how he got so lucky to have these people in his life despite everything, and then realized he could swipe that last addition away. He couldn’t undo what he did, but he could atone for it. (Even though Tony and Steve would say he didn’t have to do that either, Bucky needed it.) He couldn’t ever deserve these people, but he could be the best version of himself for them.
*
When Bucky lowered himself on one knee, sweating hand holding the little box with the ring in it, he was both nervous and calm at the same time.
“I’m already wearing your sign, but I want everyone to know we belong together. Anthony Edward Stark, will you marry me?” he asked. His voice didn’t betray his inner turbulence, the way his heart beat in his throat and his mind still expected rejection despite everything.
Instead Tony leapt forward to tightly embrace Bucky’s head to his chest. “Oh my god, yes. I do. I do, I do, a thousand times I do.” Then it registered, and, “what do you mean you’re wearing my sign?” Tony asked.
Bucky pulled the ring on his finger first, without a word, just smiling, and Tony leaned down and Bucky kissed him with all the love and passion he could possibly cram into that one gesture.
Then he sheepishly unbuttoned his jacket and shook it off of his left shoulder. The metal gleamed in the lights and Tony stared at Bucky’s shoulder in awe. The red star was completely gold: the pattern around it was bright blue in a circle now. It had a thick black outline, and the triangle in the middle had even lines despite the metal plates. The image of Tony’s ARC-reactor with a golden star in the middle seemed to brighten up from the right angle.
“Oh,” Tony said.
“Yeah, I know. Don’t wear your heart on your sleeve.” Bucky sighed, and closed his eyes. “I decided to wear yours there instead, if you don’t mind,” he concluded almost sheepishly.
For a moment it seemed Tony couldn’t say anything to that, but then he raised to his tiptoes to kiss Bucky again, almost devouring his lovers lips with the passionate gesture, and it took minutes until he reluctantly pulled away and looked Bucky in the eyes. “I love you.”
Bucky kissed him too. “I love you too.”