Work Text:
“Butterfingers, tweezers.”
He heard the muted creak of a robotic arm and reached out, attention still focused on the pocket watch in front of him. It looked perfect, if he did say so himself, but the tick was a tiny bit louder than he wanted it to be.
His outstretched fingers brushed something soft and he blinked. Butterfingers was not soft. At all. He was a robotic arm. A metal robotic arm. Tony pushed his biggering goggles up into his hair and turned on his stool. His eyes went wide.
Butterfingers was wearing a….sleeve. A knitted sleeve. If he was a person, it would be a sweater, he supposed. His robotic arm was wearing a robot-arm sweater. Where did he get a sweater? How did he get it on? Why was it lime green? Why were the little knitted strawberries grinning so wide? Were they winking at him? Tony had so many questions.
Butterfingers hadn’t knitted it himself. Probably. He needed a name change if he had. There were tiny holes in the sweater-sleeve for his various knobs and wires, and it had the slightly lumpy quality that he associated with Rhodey’s Christmas sweaters and Clint’s atrociously coloured socks. Hand knitted socks. Did robotic arm knitted socks look the same as human hand knitted socks? Also, didn’t knitting require two hands? Butterfingers only had one. Could he even hold a knitting needle with it? No. Tony was pretty sure Butterfingers had not knitted this robot-sweater himself. Tony was also almost positive he hadn’t sleep-knitted it himself. The skills he’d picked up over the course of life almost definitely did not include the manipulation of yarn, sober or drunk.
“JARVIS, do I know how to knit?”
“Your extensive inventory of talents does not include the skillful manipulation of yarn to create a serviceable article, I regret to inform you.”
“...A simple ‘No’ would’ve done the job, J.”
“I live to serve, sir.”
So it wasn’t the bots, and it wasn’t him. Which left...everyone else in the tower.
“So. JARVIS. Do you know who can knit?”
“Yes, sir.”
“...Care to elaborate?”
“No, sir.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “You know I could just check the security footage myself, right.”
“You could, sir. Several hours of mind numbingly boring perusal, and you can’t even afford to skip ahead. I doubt you would find anything of value, but I wish you luck.”
Tony narrowed his eyes at the ceiling. “What game are you playing, J?”
“No game you don’t know the rules to, I’m sure. You wrote all my code, as you like to remind me. Repeatedly.”
Tony hmph -ed and turned back to his project. So this person had JARVIS on their side. That narrowed it down to…everyone else in the tower. Ugh. He didn’t have time for this. The watch was so close to being perfect. He hadn’t slept in 40 hours. Butterfinger looked adorable , still holding out the tweezers. Was this even worth the effort of detectivery?
He heard Dum-E beep behind him and sighed. “Thanks bud. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I don’t think coffee is a good idea right n-”
Tony blinked. Dum-E had a aquamarine arm sleeve on. With little lemon wedges all over it.
They were all wearing sunglasses.
He buried his face in his hands. Was this it? Had he finally lost it?
Why lemons ?
----
Tony woke with a start. He…didn’t remember getting to his bed. He must’ve fallen asleep in the lab again.
“JARVIS?” he said through a yawn.
“Good morning, sir.”
“What happened?”
“Weren’t you planning to check the footage anyway, sir?”
Tony was sure his face was an exact replica of the (-_-) emoticon. Thankfully the Spider-Kid wasn’t around to make fun of him for it. Goddamnit, the kid was making him think in emoticons. He rubbed his eyes. It was too freaking early for this.
“Do I need to remind you who wrote your code again, J-”
“LANCELOT.”
Tony sighed as the vent popped open and a black clad figure plopped unceremoniously onto his bed. Why was he constantly interrupted in this way? In his own house? He needed to lay down the law harder.
“You’ll never get that nickname to stick, Legolas. Give it up.”
“Pffft, it’s genius. You’re a knight in super-shiny rust proof armour.”
“You do realise he also betrayed the king.”
“Been there, done that.”
“Slept with his wife, all that jazz.”
Clint winked, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the bed and reaching for his quiver.
Tony narrowed his eyes. “What are you trying to say, Legolas?”
“I didn’t say anything, Tony. I just wanted a specs check on these heat sensing arrows.”
“Is that a new quiver?”
“Oh my gosh, yes! Isn’t it awesome?! So yeah, these arrows, they’re veering a bit to the left.”
“Is that knitted brass ?”
“Cool, huh? Feels like chainmail, but it’s even better. And he has such an eye for detail, it’s awesome. Anyway, I know these are heat sensing and you said they should work great even at close range, so I can’t tell if it’s the aim or the temperature sense that’s off, or something else entirely.”
“Are those copper leaves of Lorien- ” Tony blinked. “They’re heat sensing at long range, Clint. How close are you aiming- eep!”
Clint grinned. “See? That hit the headboard but it should’ve hit you. The hottest thing in the room, clearly.” There was a moment’s silence. Clint cleared his throat. “Close your mouth, dude, you’ll catch flies. Well, I’ll leave these with you, you’ll fix them right? Nat’s expecting me, gotta fly!”
Tony stared blankly at the place where Clint had been sitting. “J, remind me why I don’t lock the vents up for good?”
“Because you’re not so secretly a marshmallow, sir.”
Tony grmph -ed. No respect in this house. None.
—
“It’s next Sunday, J.”
“I’ll make sure he’s there, Ms. Potts.”
Tony spit toothpaste into the sink as irritably as he could. “I don’t see why you’re scheduling my meetings with my robot butler instead of me when I am literally right here, Pep.”
“Because he’s more reliable, Tony. I’ll see you for Saturday brunch.”
“So I can remember brunch but not a meeting? What are you implying?”
“That you like the chili dogs at the dog park more than the stuffy old men in the boardroom, Tony.”
Tony went back to brushing his teeth. He wasn’t pouting. You can’t brush your teeth while pouting. Logic defies all!
“Well, I have to get going. Bye, J. Get a haircut, Tony.”
“Good day, Ms. Potts.”
“Hey, wait, is that a new scarf?” He blinked as Pepper’s face blinked out of view. He was left facing his own reflection in the mirror. He frowned.
“My hair isn’t that bad, is it J?”
“I believe Colonel Rhodes has referred to it as The Return of the Ringlets.”
Tony frowned at himself in the mirror, rinsing off his toothpaste moustache. “Wait. Is that Lord of the Rings or Star Wars?”
“Unconfirmed. The topic changed almost immediately.”
“To what?” Tony scoffed and spat out a mouthful of toothpaste. What could they possibly be talking about that was more interesting than the Tony Stark?
“His new socks.”
“Rhodey has new socks?”
“They have swords on them.”
“Where is everyone getting - wait. Longswords or lightsabers?”
“Indiscernible.”
Tony gargled and spat again with as much pique as a sleepy-eyed ruffle-haired engineer could display while spitting out a mouthful of water. “Well, thanks, J. That clears up exactly nothing.”
“He has matching mittens, too.”
“ Exactly nothing. ”
“Always a pleasure, sir.”
–
So the mystery knitter was a Lord of the Rings fan, and-slash-or a Star Wars fan, Tony mused over his third cup of coffee. That ruled out…no one, it didn’t rule out a single person. How could someone exist in a universe where Lord of the Rings and Star Wars both existed and not absolutely adore both? This was getting hopeless. He needed to solve this mystery.
He took another sip. He needed sleep.
“Morning, Tony. Bowser supremacy.”
Tony glared as venomously as he could over the rim of his Princess Peach mug. “Shut up, Nat. I could ice your ass any day.”
“But would you break my heart on our wedding day, darling? I doubt it.”
Tony grumbled as she ruffled his hair on the way to the microwave. “Why does everyone think I’m soft and fluffy. I am fierce. I am rage.”
“You’re a marshmallow.” She grinned at him as she sat across from him. “What has you up this early?”
“Mit-steries. Knit-steries.”
“How long has it been since you slept, Tony?”
“Irrelevant. Focus, Nat. There’s a knitter afoot.” Tony scowled as she felt his forehead. “I’m not sick!” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Are those fingerless chainmail gloves?”
“Handy, no?” She twirled her butterknife through her chainmail-free fingers at him. “You don’t seem delirious. Not any more than usual, anyway. Fine, I’ll play along. What’s this about a mystery knitter?”
“They’re knitting things. And they’re sneaky about it.” He blinked. “Wait, was that a pun?”
“Oh dear,” Nat shook her head in dramatic dismay. “Are they a Super Spy? Are they tiptoeing around in fluffy woollen socks so you can’t hear them?”
“That’s not the- how are you doing that?” Tony stared at her as she neatly sliced into her Pop-Tart with her butterknife.
“Doing what?” She asked innocently, forking a neatly sliced piece of Pop-Tart into her mouth.
“Stop it!”
“Stop what?” she said through another bite.
“ Does Thor know about this?”
“What does Thor have to do with your mystery knitter?”
“Wha- nothing! Wait. Do you know something?”
Nat brushed a stray crumb off the corner of her mouth and got up. “Of course not. You wouldn’t catch me dead in fluffy woollen socks. Thor’s new hammer-cosy is adorable though.”
“What do you know, Nat?”
“It has little lightning bolts on it. They glow in the dark.”
“Wha- how? ”
Nat shrugged. “Glow in the dark wool? Thor loves it. Bye, Tony.”
“That’s not- wait, hammer- and, she’s gone.” He stared at the doorway for a long moment. “J, that was weird, right?”
“I believe that depends on your definition of weird, sir.”
“That was so weird. Who eats Pop-Tarts with a fork?”
“Agent Romanov, apparently.”
“She knows something, J, I know it.”
“Indeed, sir. You know all the things. As you remind me on a daily basis.”
“Because it’s true and you know it.”
“I’m not the one who knows all the things, so I couldn’t say. Sir.”
“It’s too early for this sass, J.”
“The only sass I have is what you programmed me with.”
Tony groaned into his mug.
“And it is half past noon.”
“I asked her, didn’t I? I spoke out loud a sentence with a question mark at the end. And I got nothing. Everyone in this house just keeps saying things and giving me nothing .”
“Perhaps the problem is you, sir.”
“Why does no one take my interrogation seriously? This is a matter of urgency!”
“Because you are a marshmallow, sir.”
“And yet accusations are thrown at my face every hour of the day! In my own house!”
“Well, sir, look at the bright side. There’s one thing you can never be accused of, in your own house.”
“Oh yeah, J? Enlighten me.”
“Talking to yourself.”
Tony glared at the tabletop. He could hear Jarvis’ silent cackles.
He just couldn’t win.
—
Tony massaged his eyebrows in frustration. Movie night? He still hadn’t gotten that tick to sound right. And there was the engraving, and the painting, and the - wait, was that apple wearing a Christmas sweater?
“I’m hallucinating, aren’t I?”
“If that was addressed to me, sir, I unfortunately have no way of knowing. What are you experiencing?”
“Holiday apple?”
“If you are referring to the fruit bowl bearing the marks of decoration for Christmas, I can assure you that you are completely sane, sir.”
Great. Like he needed another reminder that Christmas was sprinting around the corner. Or that they were sprinting. Towards the season of giving. Tony hated running. It’s why he made himself a supersuit.
“J, distract them. I need to-”
“Oh no you don’t.” Tony yelped as two overly muscled arms scooped him up and threw him over a very broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Tony kicked at the traitor, pounding the muscled back with both fists. “I am a human being with feelings! You can’t just toss me around like a teddy bear!”
Steve rolled his eyes, not even breaking stride. Stupid serum super strength. “Right now, you’re a human being who’s joining us for movie night.” He lightly spanked Tony’s butt, shocking him into stilling. “Stop struggling, you know you’re at a disadvantage. And here-” Tony shrieked as he was unceremoniously dumped onto another human being was there no respect in this house - “There’s your Teddy bear.”
Tony blinked. The human being he’d fallen on was…soft. He looked up and blinked again at the sight of wide-eyed baby blues. Bucky? Didn’t the dude have a metal arm? What was it with all the hard things in the tower turning soft, this wasn’t the reaction he usually got-
“Um. Hi. You…OK?”
Tony blinked again and refocused on the mouth right below the eyes. It was moving. “Mhmm.” he blinked again. “Soft.” A hand patted the man bun on top of Bucky’s head. Could’ve been his own hand, who knew, really. “Mmm. Soft!”
“...OK”
He ignored the faint snickering in the background. There was a tap on his shoulder. He turned away from Bucky’s murderous glare to face a grinning Steve, annoyed at his bun patting being interrupted. “What do you want, Steve- mmph!”
Tony was surrounded by a fluffy cloud. couldn’t breathe. All he could see and smell and feel was soft .
“Jesus, Stevie, ya tryin’ to kill him?” The soft was removed from over his face which was kind of sad but now Tony could breathe which was good, he supposed. He looked down and found himself cocooned in a too-big Christmas sweater. Mmm. Grinning reindeers notwithstanding, it was pretty comfy. He looked back up at Bucky, whose expression was warring between amusement and annoyance. “Uh. Feels like I’m saying this a lot lately but. You OK?”
Tony grinned wide, ignoring Bucky’s startled blink. “Soft!” He turned and settled back against the conveniently placed Bucky cushion.
“Um. OK then.” Tony ignored the voices and the giggling. He could feel his eyes automatically falling shut. This was too comfortable to be legal. Distantly he heard Thor’s booming laugh.
“He didn’t even put his arms through! The Man of Iron is adorable.”
“Shut up, Thor! You’ll wake him up!”
“I apologize, warrior of frost. You are right.”
He fell asleep to what sounded like a harsh Shhhh near his ear, and the feeling of two wool ensconced biceps wrapping around him.
—
Tony woke up with a start in his own bed.
“JARVIS?”
“Good morning, sir. It is currently nine-”
“Yeah, yeah, cut the chatter. What happened last night?”
“Well, since no alcohol was involved on this instance of you asking me that question, I doubt you need much help remembering.”
“Is that tone, J? I’m sensing tone.”
“The footage is, as always, available for your timely perusal.”
So his robot butler was no help. What was new. What even was the point in using his genius to make a robot helper if it wasn’t the least bit helpful? Tony tried to recall what he’d done after being slung over a super soldier shoulder, but it felt like his own memories were forcibly pushing him away from viewing them by the force of how much they made him cringe. First his butler, now his own subconscious. He really was surrounding himself with traitors of his own making.
Eh, he’d deal with the movie night mystery later. He had work to do. The only thing he could bring forth from the bowels of his memory into conscious thought without feeling a vague sense of dread was an overwhelming feeling of comfort and softness. Which was strange, because he was about eighty eight percent sure Bucky was involved somehow. Didn’t he have a metal arm? How did soft even fit into the equation?
So much for that childhood dream of becoming a detective. Tony groaned as he forced himself out of bed. He had work to do.
—
“Thing one, thing two,” he greets absentmindedly as he walks into the kitchen.
“‘Morning, Tony.”
He ignores the laughter laced through Steve’s voice and reached for his mug. He frowned as his fingers met air.
“Oh, if you’re looking for Peach, Bucky borrowed it. I’m sure Bowser is available though.”
Tony whipped around and pointed accusingly at the too-innocent Steve. “Nat put you up to this!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He took a careless bite of his apple.
“Listen, Blondie,” Tony pointed harder, “I admit Jack Black is an amazing voice actor, but Bowser is pure evil and Peach will forever reign supreme!”
“Then why are you trying so hard to be him?”
Tony spluttered. “What does that even mean. I am not trying to be Bowser. He is my mortal enemy!”
“The spiky hair begs to differ, Tony.”
Tony scowled and tried to flatten the offending spikes. “That’s irrelevant.”
“It’s completely relevant. And you’re so prickly all the time, aren’t you? Always spitting fire.”
“I am none of these things! Take it back!”
“You are all of these things. Just admit it, Tony. You love Peach because you’re Bowser.”
“I- Wha- how dare- ”
“You know, I’m pretty sure heart-shaped bangs would suit Bucky.”
Tony paused his fruitless efforts at thinking up a good comeback to stare at Steve in confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Oh, nothing.” Steve said in that too-innocent voice. He casually took his phone out of his pocket. Tony ignored how adorable the yarn American flag phone case with the Captain America shield button was in favour of glaring at Steve. How dare he ignore him in the middle of their argument.
“Are you texting ? Since when do you text?”
“Texting is pretty nifty, Tony, you should try it sometime instead of exploiting your robot butler.”
“Wh-he can convey messages instantly. And out loud!”
“Or maybe you’re just lazy.”
“It’s not exploiting if it is one of the functions I programmed him to have- ” Tony gaped at him. “Lazy-wha-”
“Close your mouth, Tony, you’ll catch flies.” Steve neatly slipped his phone back into that annoying adorable case and winked at Tony, who got over his distraction at the cute to go back to silently fuming. (In his defence, the button had a smiley face on it.)
“So, now that Bowser supremacy has been established - and yes, don’t worry Tony, I’ve updated Nat of the situation - Buck, how’s that coffee? Peachy?”
Bucky shot Steve a supremely unimpressed look and set down his mug. “I haven’t actually had any yet, no thanks to your bickering.” He sighed. “Look, Tony, I’m sorry, I asked Mr. Goody Two-Shoes over here if this mug was one of the neutral ones, I can just rinse it out-”
“Shush, sweetpea, enjoy your coffee. This is between Steve and me. Now. Where were we.” Tony ignored Bucky’s sudden coughing fit and pointed his other finger at Steve. The double point! A devastating blow.
Steve raised an eyebrow and took another bite of his stupid apple. It looked like he was trying not to laugh. Tony narrowed his eyes at him. “You really want to make this war, Captain?”
Steve grinned. “I could do this all day.”
Ugh. He probably could. And Tony had work to do. Why was the universe unfair?
He stuck his tongue out at Steve and snatched his mug out of Bucky’s hands mid-sip. “We will continue this later .”
“Hey, Tony!” He heard Steve yell after him as he walked purposefully out of the kitchen, “Nice sweater! You look better in my clothes than I do!”
Tony ignored him, taking a sip of the stay-awake juice and making a face as the elevator came to a stop at the common floor. Stupid Bucky and his stupid sweet tooth. He took another reluctant sip as he stepped inside.
“Take it away, J.”
The elevator doors closed to the sound of a suspiciously Steve-sounding scream and a thump, followed by maniacal laughter. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. Whatever that was, it was probably deserved.
—
“Hey J? Steve deserved that, whatever it was, right?”
“I am rather fond of Captain Rogers.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, JARVIS.” He set down his soldering iron, blinking at the amigurami mushroom on his desk. Had that always been there?
“You quite literally asked me for exactly that 23 seconds ago.”
Wait, it wasn’t a mushroom.
“Well, I didn’t ask for your opinion on that either. Hey, JARVIS, is this a mushroom or a Toad?”
“I can see how the two might be confused.”
If a voice could be a desert, JARVIS’ would be Antarctica. Cold and dry. Tony was a genius. If only his amazing code didn’t inconvenience him on a daily basis.
“From Mario, J, keep up.”
“I am only as smart as you made me to be.”
“You’re a learning AI.”
“Then I suppose you have no one to blame but my teacher.”
Tony sighed and traced the tiny crocheted Toad’s smile. He just couldn’t win.
—
“JARVIS? Did you get Tony a nightlight?”
Tony flailed awake and rolled off his workbench, wincing at the cacophony of cluttered tools, stray screws and what sounded like a rubber duck. “Pepper! To what do I owe the pleasure - are those peas?”
“Oh Tony, they’re adorable! And they glow in the dark?! How do you find these things? Did you learn to knit while you forgot about our brunch date?”
“Oh no, Pep, I’m so sorry-”
“Get me one of these for Christmas and I’ll forgive you.” Whatever she threw at him bounced off his face. It almost succeeded in squashing his guilt. “The meeting, Tony. It’s important. The investors won’t be as forgiving as I am. Don’t forget.”
“I promise. By the way, you’re looking exceptionally beautiful today. Did you do something new with your hair because it’s-”
“ Bye, Tony.”
Tony waved at her retreating back and ignored the guilt clawing its way up his throat. He sat up and picked up the green thingamabob from the floor. It was a peapod with three peas grinning cheekily up at him. He groaned and buried his face in his hands. Of course. As if everything else the universe was throwing at him wasn’t enough. Now he had to learn how to knit.
Or! He brightened. If he could just find this mystery knitter, he could make them knit for him. Ha! They didn’t call him a genius for nothing!
“JARVIS, which of your cameras has a view of my - is that a Santa hat?”
“There was some muttering about how I must feel left out since the bots all have things to wear.”
“So you got a Santa hat?”
“I do not feel complex emotions the same way that humans do, but I admit I am…rather touched.”
“I-” Tony blinked. “Wait. JARVIS. You know who the mystery knitter is?!”
“Knowledge is subjective in both definition and utility, sir.”
“Have you known this whole time?”
JARVIS’ silence spoke volumes. Tony glared at the nearest Santa hat clad camera. “Listen up, buster. I- You know, I can’t take this seriously with all the Santa hats.”
“A comment about how I know all of the tower’s naughtiness and niceness might’ve been made.”
Tony knew that tone. That was fondness . Curse this mystery knitter. They’d gotten Pepper and now JARVIS on their side! Tony needed to act quick. Before it was too late.
—
“Bruce! The only sane man in this tower.”
“Many would beg to differ, myself included, but OK.” Bruce said dryly, carefully setting his test tube into the holder.
“You have to help me.”
“Huh. You didn’t say ‘then beg’, you’re begging. Is everything alright, Tony?”
“There’s a knitter among us.”
“Have you been playing those mobile games again?” Bruce sat and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I leave you alone for one week and this happens. We set up those rules for a reason-”
“It’s not the games! I’m clean, I swear!”
“So- you actually need my help with something?”
“There are crimes afoot, Bruce. Ones we love and trust are plotting against us.”
Bruce shrugged off his lab coat and walked around his table to the doorway so he could force Tony onto the sofa. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Peachy.” Tony cringed. He couldn’t remember why. He swatted Bruce’s hand away as he felt his forehead. “Listen, Bruce, this is a matter of life or-”
Tony abruptly cut off and stared at the floor. Bruce tensed. “What? What happened?”
“They got you too,” he whispered tragically.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, they’re clever. They’ve got me cornered.”
“ Who? ”
“They’ve managed to infiltrate every one of my defences, They’ve established their territory without an inch to spare. They’ve brainwashed the people closest to me. But no more! This is WAR! I will have my vengeance!”
Bruce blinked as Tony dramatically pointed at his feet and ran out of the room.
After a pause, he yelled out, “Nice sweater, by the way!” to a dishevelled Tony, who was still waiting for the elevator, bouncing restlessly like a messy haired christmas ornament on speed.
“VENGEANCE!” Tony pointed dramatically at Bruce’s feet again as the elevator doors slid open. “I’ll have vengeance!” He double pointed as the doors slid closed.
Well. The man was clearly on a mission of…some kind. Bruce shrugged and went back to his experiment. If Tony wanted him, he’d come and get him.
He didn’t really see what his socks had to do with anything, though.
—
“Oh, hey Thor. Is that a new cape?”
“Hawkeye! Why yes indeed, is it not splendiferous?”
“It sure is something, bud.” Clint grinned. “Big fan of the lightning bolts.”
“As am I, Clint! They glow in the dark too!”
“So it matches your hammer cosy, nice.”
“I like your hat.”
“Thanks! It’s purple! I keep having to hide it from Nat, she keeps trying to steal it, thank God she’s away on a mission - was that Tony?”
“The strangled yell followed by the string of expletives from the direction of the elevator? I believe so.”
“Uh. Yeah. What’s his deal?”
“We could ask him, but he seems to have returned to his lab in a fit of rage.”
“Bummer. I was hoping to bump into him. He never did get back to me on those arrows.”
—
“OK! This is the last straw!”
Tony marched into the common room, latest abomination of yarn held high above his head. Several beanie-clad heads whipped around at his entrance.
“Tony! Long time no see, man.”
“Nice sweater!”
“Join us, it’s Christmas movie binge night.”
“I don’t care about Christmas! Hats and scarves and beanies and toys and now this. ”
“And what exactly is this?” Thor paused Elf and raised an eyebrow at him.
Tony held up the monstrosity. It was a soft green pillow with gold edging and a cartoon of a snoozing peach on it.
Clint snickered. “Aww. Someone gave you a cush for your tush.”
“Someone fess up to this! Or you won’t like what I do!”
“And what would that be, Peaches?” Steve grinned at him. “Nice sweater. Again.”
Tony narrowed his eyes at him. “You know something. You all know something, I know it.”
“Information isn’t free, Stark!” Natasha grinned.
Tony swallowed. “Fine, I’ll sweeten the deal. I was working on this for…not important. Whoever turns the mystery knitter can have it.”
He pulled the watch out of his pocket by it’s chain. Ugh. This was so frustrating. He’d finally crashed after getting that tick to pitch perfection and adding the finishing touches to the engraving of the Brooklyn skyline on the back. The details on the ferris wheel had taken so long but it was worth it. Weeks of work had finally amounted to one of the best things he’d ever made. And now it was the only thing of any value he could offer.
Eh. He’d have given it away anyway. Maybe this way he could pretend he had some semblance of control over the yarn entangled mess that was his life.
“Well?” He probably looked like a maniac, wielding a peach pillow over his head in one hand and swinging a golden chained pocket watch like a pendulum from the other. “No takers? It’s an original Tony Stark and everything.”
“Tony,” Steve sounded a little choked up. “Is that. Coney Island?”
“Sharp eye, Cap. I thought this might interest you more than the rest.” It was why he had cleverly brandished his bargaining chip while facing him. “It could be all yours, you know. All you need to give me in exchange is one tiny piece of information. I know you have it.”
“Tony.” Bruce said slowly, leaning over from his nearby beanbag to hold the watch still and peer at it. “Did you…make this?”
“That’s enough touching!” Tony yanked the watch out of reach. “You can admire my skillful workmanship after you purchase the goods.”
“You made that from scratch ?”
“Always the tone of surprise, Nat. Yes, I made it and put it together, yes, it works, and yes, it is probably valuable because I designed and moulded and melted and welded every individual working piece of this trinket out of gold titanium alloy. Oh, and I added some vibranium for the accents. Durable stuff.”
Clint squinted at him suspiciously. “Wait. This is what you’ve been working on for the past two weeks? A Christmas present?”
“Right now it’s a bargaining chip. Keep up, Birdbrain, I thought you spies were supposed to be smart.”
“Who’s it for?”
Tony turned towards the quiet voice that had piped up from the seat next to Steve on the sofa. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
He’s staring into piercing blue eyes and suddenly, his mouth is dry. The pillow falls from his strangely sweaty palms. He fights the sudden urge to run. He won’t get any information if he runs.
“Why?” He spits, accusing. “Why does it matter?”
“Because.” And now Bucky’s standing, and walking towards him, and the closer he gets the faster Tony’s heart is pounding in his chest but it doesn’t make sense because he is actively fighting not to run and if he isn’t running his heart shouldn’t be racing-
“Because why?” Tony asks as Bucky comes to a stop inches away, and it comes out as almost a whisper, but he hears anyway. He catches the watch just as the chain slips from Tony’s shaking fingers, closes cool metal fingers around his clammy hand, and Tony can’t tell if he wants to back away or let himself fall forward.
“Because I think there’s a reason that ferris wheel has a red star in the middle.” Bucky whispers back, and Tony feels his knees go weak. “Is there?”
“I-” Tony stares, disbelieving. “It was you?”
Bucky shrugs, looking at the floor. “It’s s’posed to help with the fine motor skills, with the arm, y’know, and I needed to pass the time somehow.”
“I. Oh my God. You’re so-you made sweaters for my bots? And hats for JARVIS? And Toad and the peas and oh my god the peach -”
“Well, I’ve been knitting a lot of things. But yeah, those were all me.”
“I. Wow. I don’t even know what to say.”
“You could answer my question, maybe?” He sounds so hopeful, and he’s looking at Tony like that simple Yes would make him the happiest man alive, and he’s holding Tony’s hand and smiling down at the watch Tony made for him because he likes it and there’s even a chance that he likes him-
And really, what is Tony supposed to do except lean up and lay a kiss on his lips.
There’s moment of stunned silence, and Tony panics and starts signalling JARVIS’ nearest Santa hat camera in morse code to put up some holographic mistletoe, STAT, but then all their friends are cheering and Bucky’s grinning down at him like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be, and then he’s swept up into a hug that is soft and warm and comfy, metal arm and all. There’s whooping in the background and a “Yeah, get it, Buck!” followed by a thump and a soft “ow,” but Tony doesn’t care. He’s so happy.
“So.” Bucky says once he puts him down “I’ll take that as a yes?”
“Only if you say yes to this.” Tony clears his throat. “Bucky Barnes, will you go out with me?”
Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Where?”
Tony blinked. “Honestly? I didn’t really think I’d make it this far.”
Bucky just laughed. “Yes. I’ll go out with you. I don’t care where. As long as you’re there, that’s enough for me.”
Tony smiled up at him with shining eyes. “Really?”
“I do have one condition, though.”
Tony froze. “Um. Condition?”
“Please give Steve his sweater back.”
Tony replayed the words in his head. Another time. “Wait. This is Steve’s sweater?!”
Bucky’s long suffering sigh was drowned out by the cackles from the crowd around them. “He hasn’t let me hear the end of it since that movie night.”
“I-” Tony blushed. “I didn’t know.”
“You also never take it off.”
Tony blinked, surprised. Bucky sounded…miffed? “I. I never take it off because it reminds me of that movie night too.”
Bucky blinked, seemingly gobsmacked. “Oh. Well, then.”
“Also it kind of smells like you.”
“I- Oh -”
“Hey lovebirds! If you’re done whispering sweet nothings, we have a movie to get back to!”
“Actually, you know what? Never mind. One moment, Bucky bear.” Tony yanked the sweater off, balled it up and threw it at Steve Rogers’ shit-eating grin with all his might, gratified to hear his affronted yelp. “I don’t need to settle for second rate sweater smells now that I have the real thing.”
“Got that right, sweet peach.” Bucky grinned. “No sweater? You must be cold.” Tony winked and followed him back to their spot on the sofa.
“I know a way you can warm me up,” Tony whispered, getting comfy as Thor pressed play.
“GET A ROOM!” Steve yelled.
Everyone ignored him.
___
“Look, Pep, I remembered the meeting!”
“You can collect your ‘I did the bare minimum and expect a trophy for it’ badge from the lobby.”
“They have those?”
“I had a bunch of them custom-printed just for you.”
“Ha. Ha.” He threw her her present. “Here. Congratulations on closing that deal. Couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Aw, Tony. You didn’t have to-” she paused, reaching towards the knitted strawberry on her desk. “Oh. You remembered.”
“You did ask for one.”
“How’s Bucky?”
“He’s great. Still knitting. He’s working on a quilt with some kind of apple leaf pattern.”
Pepper smiled at the grin Tony was obviously trying so hard to contain and failing to. “I’m glad.”
“I was also hoping,” Tony cleared his throat. “I could take you out for dinner? Make up for that brunch date I missed?”
Pepper’s smile widened. “That sounds perfect. Let me wrap things up, half a mo.” She hit send on her last email and shut her laptop, laughing softly as she picked up the cheeky little strawberry that was sticking its tongue out at her. “You have to make up for more than that, anyhow.”
Tony froze, his hand outstretched and ready to mess with her Newton’s Cradle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Please. A strawberry? I know who he asked,” she rolled her eyes fondly, wrapping her scarf around her neck.
“Pep, he wanted to know what your favourite fruit was.” He was now spinning around in her chair. “Who even has a favourite fruit?”
“So you chose the only one that could actually succeed at killing me?”
“Well, you know what they say,” he winked. “Keep your enemies closer.”
Pepper rolled her eyes as she picked up her clutch. “I’d rather just have my friends close, thanks.”
“Me too, Pep.” Tony smiled. "Me too."
She smiled back.