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The rush of the cool Fall air swept past Bucky's neck, tickling the small hairs at the back of his head that weren't hidden underneath his helmet. Him and Steve were riding through central New York City, giving their motorcycles some attention that they hadn't received in the past few weeks due to Steve not needing to use it since he worked right around the corner of their apartment and since Bucky had been out of town, travelling around a bit to catch as many festivals and concerts as he could, because why not?
They weaved through the heavy traffic gracefully, Steve following close behind Bucky. The hum of the engine and the smooth shift in the tires always gave Bucky a slight rush, he was an adrenaline junkie, so what? He leaned to the right to swerve and avoid a group of pedestrians crossing the street and glanced quickly over his shoulder to make sure Steve was still near by, he was. Turning back forward a light blinked in his peripheral vision and looking down he saw that two warning lights had lit up on the bikes console. Bucky sighed, just his luck to come back from a vacation and immediately be met with petty problems.
Then suddenly, something gave out within the bike, he could feel it. The entire way it moved changed, a powerful vibration starting up almost right below him and travelling throughout the entire bike.
"Shit." He cursed under his breath and held up the signal to Steve that meant he was going to pull over.
After navigating through some tourists and a group on bicycles he pulled to the side between two cars that were parallel parked and got off the bike. He heard Steve come up beside him and turn his engine off. Bucky unclipped the helmet and took it off, pushing back his hair from his eyes. Without looking he waved Steve over.
"What is it? Why'd we stop?" Steve asked, now right next to Bucky.
"I have no fuckin' clue."
"Language."
"One second she's riding perfect, smooth and purring and the next thing I know it felt like she was vibrating so hard she could crumble apart right under me." He said, exasperated.
Steve got closer and squatted down, brow pinched together, he touched the side of the seat to steady himself and flinched minutely.
"It's... really warm?" He said, pulling back his hand and standing up.
Bucky took his keys back out, careful to do it with his right hand so that the metal of his prosthetic arm didn't scrape against the metal keys, and started the bike back up again. A grating sound, shrill and loud, filled the air and a few heads turned to see what was going on. The vibrating had stopped but when Bucky placed a hand on the handle bars he could feel the metal slowly, but surly, heating up.
"Huh."
Steve glanced back down the road they came and then scanned the shops close by while Bucky continued to search for the problem. "I think... Yeah, I'm pretty sure there's a mechanic or a hardware store right behind there." He said pointing.
"I thought that was just a place for parts." Bucky responded craning his neck to look around a flower shop in the way.
Steve shrugged, "I mean it couldn't hurt to try right?"
---
Ten Minutes later they had both drug their bikes up and over the curb, down the sidewalk and in front of a store that was simply called 'Stark'. In the window there were some old, impressive engines on display and a few boxes of assorted tools. They parked their bikes and walked in fully expecting a rusty workshop covered in posters of women leaning against cars and a greasy mechanic despite the store's display case. What they were met with wasn't quite that though.
They had stepped into an enormous, high, glass ceiling room with pristine white walls and smooth black floors. The entire back wall was covered in certificates, framed news papers and welding masks. The wall to the left was also full, though it mainly only had precision tools that gradually grew into enormous heavy-duty equipment. The right wall was partially blank with only a few meticulously arranged blue prints were hung. There were several tables pushed against the wall that were covered in little projects and tools, but right in the middle of the room was a 1932 Ford Flathead Roadster.
Bucky honestly thought his mouth was going to start watering when he saw the beauty of a car in what was basically perfect condition. He took a few steps towards it, left hand out reached to touch it when the roll of wheels was heard and a grunt from the other side of the car.
A man, maybe a little older than Bucky and Steve, popped out from behind the car, his dark brown hair a fluffy mess and honey brown eyes squinting at the brightness of the room. He wore a faded AC/DC shirt and ripped black jeans. Across his face and down his arms he was smeared with oil grease and soot.
As Bucky's eyes travelled down his form he saw a streak of red at the end of his right wrist but didn't get to see where it led when the guy stood up completely behind the car and said, "Jarvis, save info here, I'll pick up on that project later." This prompted Steve and Bucky to look around in confusion to find who the man was talking to except there was no one else in the room but them.
"Of course, Sir. I do suggest you clean up a bit before greeting your guests though." A voice responded, light, professional and accented. Steve glanced at Bucky but only got a shrug in return.
"Oh, yeah. Sorry, gimme one sec guys!" The mechanic said, barely glancing at them as he rushed through a door at the back wall.
Bucky gave Steve a pointed look and Steve just shot him one back. They glanced around some more while waiting for him to comeback, Bucky's eyes continuously falling on the car in front of them.
Both men startled when the door at the back reopened and out came the mechanic, now clean and clear. When Bucky looked over his eyes widened because holy shit the guy had one flashy ass prosthetic. It was hot rod red, accented with gold that replaced his right hand all the way to just above the wrist's joint. He hadn't even known people could get prosthetics in those colors, let alone any color besides silver.
Steve also looked caught off guard and when Bucky realized they were both blatantly staring at the dudes prosthetic they quickly looked away.
"Ha, yeah boys, my eyes are up here." The man said jokingly as he walked over and stopped a few feet away.
"Oh uh, sorry, I just- we've never seen one so... bright." Bucky got out awkwardly. "See mines just boring." He continued, pushing up his leathers jacket's sleeve to reveal the smooth, reflective grey metal.
The man's eyes expanded by two hundred percent. "Jesus Christ. Can I- This is weird but can I touch it?"
"No." Steve blurted out, he didn't sound angry or possessive, he just sounded commanding.
Bucky could see the guy's heart just drop and heard him let out a small, "oh okay, yeah sorry, shouldn't have asked. Touchy subjects 'n all." But dammit if Bucky would see someone so cute being so sad, so he said, "Yeah sure, just don't go near the shoulder." He gave Steve a look, the type of look that says 'back off, it's my body', and held out his arm.
"I'm uh, Tony, by the way, just yeah, wow this is amazing." The man, Tony, said, sounding like an awed five year old. He took another step closer as his fingers lightly danced over the metal inner forearm. He gently turned the arm to the side so he could see the inside of his elbow.
"I'm Bucky, the buff, blonde boy in a bad mood is Steve." Tony glanced up and sent Steve a timid wave which he didn't seem to get a response to, unless you call staring blankly a greeting.
Tony seemed to realize Steve didn't like him for some reason and turned back to Bucky then back to the arm. "Can you, um, bend it? Just move it around...I-I just want to see how the joints slide." He said, not even looking up, eyes locked onto the fine metal plates that hid intricate wiring.
Bucky smiled down at him and twisted his left arm, bending it and rolling his wrist, flicking his fingers slowly.
"That's just- wow. A-freakin'-mazing... How did you-where did you get it?" Tony asked, "I didn't know they were manufacturing these..." He added more to himself then to Bucky while rubbing up the plates, watching them flip upwards and then clicking them back into place. Something Bucky had started doing a while back as a nervous habit.
He glanced at Steve who was giving Tony a hard look, analyzing him. "I uh.." Bucky tore his eyes away from his friend and was startled when he looked down to be met with big brown eyes staring back up at him expectantly. "It was a-a- some robotics company. I entered to be part of their trial group for veterans since they were testing their new line of prosthetics but they bankrupted a little while back so I never got... any touch ups..." He trailed off as Tony took hold of his wrist with his own prosthetic hand. Both metals clinking together softly.
Bucky's arm was rougher, the plates stuck out a bit more and the inner workings whirred a little louder than Tony's, and of course, it was plain silver. Tony's however was bright and vibrant, the plates in it slid together smoothly like puzzle pieces but they clicked together easily and moved with just as much flexibility as a flesh and bone hand. To be perfectly honest, Bucky was a bit jealous.
"Veteran?" Tony asked hesitantly.
Steve cut in though. "Okay enough, we came here for a reason, just- our bikes are outside-"
"Bikes? Did your motorcycles break down? Or like an actual bike, bicycles? Cause I mean I could take a look at those too." Tony says quickly, stepping away from Bucky to go over to one of the tables covered in tools. "Do you know what the problem is? Is it an old bike, or modern or one hundred percent new? What happened? Crash? Gas? Total meltdown?" He went on sorting through equipment.
Steve raised an eyebrow at his rambling but Bucky just dismissed him with a wave. "Motorcycles. Mine was acting up a bit a few minutes ago. Vibrating me nearly off the seat..." He watched Tony nod along to what he was saying, his back still to Bucky who noticed a little smear of black grease on the mechanics neck, below his ear. It was something small, but for some reason it was cute.
"Anything else?"
"Oh um, it was hot, super warm and only got warmer as it stayed on longer."
"Out front right?" He asked, scooping up an assortment of tools and clipping on a sleek, black tool belt then dumping everything into the pockets. He pulled on some thin, fingerless gloves that looked fire proof and began heading for the door. "You guys coming?" Tony asked with an almost awkward grin as he glanced back at the other men who silently hurried to follow him.
The front door to the store opened with a jingle as Tony stepped out onto the sidewalk. There was only one bike waiting.
"This it?" He asked, gesturing at Bucky's bike, the only one now there.
Suddenly Steve rushed in front of Bucky, a terrified expression on his face. "No. No, no, no, no! Where- What- How could it- Where's my bike?!" He yelled, frantically jogging to look around each corner of the store and then over to the curb to look down the street.
Tony and Bucky watched, Bucky internally panicking because Steve's bike was a million times more expensive than his and Steve usually left his wallet stashed some where on it by accident. So if it was gone it would be hitting him pretty hard.
"Um... Steve? Steve, right?" Though the blonde didn't actually seem to acknowledge Tony, the mechanic just went on speaking. "Was you're bike, what, stolen? I'm sorry man, I still have no idea how people can just walk off with a motorcycle in the middle of New York City but I have a friend who's a policemen, I could give him a call, maybe he could have some people look out for the bike, yeah?" He asked optimistically.
Steve stopped suddenly, turning back to Tony and stalking up to him, clearly pissed off by the way his lips were curved into a sneer somehow mixed with a frown. Tony took a step back, and honestly Bucky couldn't blame him for being scared of Steve, the dude was enormous, especially when compared to the shorter brunet.
"Call the police? Call the police? I am the goddamn police!" He practically screamed which only made Tony take another cautious step back.
"Language..." Bucky interjected quietly, trying to lighten the mood.
"Not the time, Barnes." Steve shot right back sourly.
Tony looked incredibly uncomfortable with the situation now that Bucky was pouting too and tapped his flashy, metal hand against the center of his chest where his other prosthetic was located. He clicked out the rhythm of a steady heart beat and tried to match his own to it. It was a nervous habit but it also helped to calm him down. Once Steve began looking around for the bike again Tony pulled out his phone, dialed Rhodey and put it on speaker so Bucky could hear what was going on.
"Hey, Tones."
"Hey, Honey bear. I um- have a problem at the shop." He continued clicking his fingers over his chest.
"And what would that be? Don't tell me you're trapped under another car, please God don't tell me that." Bucky gave Tony a weird look. 'Trapped under a car?' He mouthed curiously, so Tony held up his prosthetic hand and snapped the fingers together, indicating that that had be how he had acquired it. Suddenly Bucky looked scandalized and yet still curious.
"No, not this time, platypus. A couple of guys came in, ran into some trouble with their motorcycles, I came out to fix 'em up and one of them is gone."
"Damn. What kind of bike?" Rhodey asked.
Tony shot Bucky a look and then nodded over to a fuming Steve who was sitting on the curb glaring up at the sky. "Hey Steve!" Bucky called, "What's the make of your bike, and maybe a license plate would be nice?"
Steve grumbled and stood up, coming over to them to say into the phone, "2014 Harley-Davidson Street 750, plate was CAP-TA1N. She is my baby."
"Rogers?" Asked Rhodey. "Is that you? You seriously got that bike stolen?"
"Rhodes? What wait-" Suddenly Steve was staring at Tony, a jumble of emotions crossing his features. "This is the Tony- the Tony Stark who you never shut the hell up about?" Steve gave said man another hard analysis before he went on. "You-You said he was a genius and a billionaire! Ha! I never did believe you could score a friend that important and this just proves my point." He said, gesturing to all of Tony's greasy, faded band-shirt glory.
"Hey, rude!" Tony said, glaring up at Steve as Bucky watched thoroughly amused. "Not you Rhodey, you're an angel." He added. "But I am a certified genius and I may or may not have been the heir to Stark Industries, the multi-billion dollar robotics company..." He said, trailing off as he glanced at Bucky, who glanced down at his left arm and then back at Tony, eyes widening.
"You!"
"Me."
"Then why were you so... amazed by it if it's your own work?"
"They upgraded it...?" Tony responded, though it sounded like a question. "Well, actually I guess I just never got to see it fabricated and, I don't know, in use I guess."
"Uh huh..."
There was an awkward pause for just as a moment as both Bucky and Steve stared down at the mechanic, looking like they were trying to figure out how he worked in their heads. "Okay, Cap, I got the bike on the list, but most officers are out right now so I can't send anyone to look specifically for it, but I bet you've got that covered, I know you'll be looking for it like a blood thirsty hellhound 'til it's back in your garage, safe and sound."
"Alrighty honey bear, that's all I needed. Dinner with Pep and Happy are still on at seven on Monday right?" He asks the last bit while taking the phone off speaker mode.
"Of course, Tones."
"Good to hear, Sugarplum. See you then. Love ya'!" Tony says, ending the call while slipping his phone back into his pocket and turning back to meet the moderately shocked faces of his company.
Steve was the first to speak. "Are you... dating Rhodes...?" He asked, clearly cautious as to not offend Tony some how.
"Psh, nah, he's just my best friend. I've been single for ages. Why, you interested, buff, blonde and beautiful?" Tony shoots back in a flirty way, but if they truly knew him they would know it was not a completely confident tone.
Bucky waves his hand dismissively when at Steve when he opens his mouth to respond. "Well, I know for a fact he's not interested, but I might be. And since I know you're not free Monday, how does Tuesday sound?" He asks smoothly.
"I- Yeah, Tuesday, I think I'm free, yup." Tony stutters out, his eyes big and happy. "Haven't been asked out in forever, damn but I mean- holy shit, wait a second, we could be Cyborg Friends! Robot Pals...? Um... the Metal Boys...?" He asks, obviously thinking hard for a cooler nick name.
Bucky laughs and ruffles Tony's hair like a kid with his prosthetic. "I mean I'd probably be the superior cyborg, though. Seeing as I have an entire arm and you only have a hand." He points out.
"Eh, never jump to conclusions." Tony says, lifting up his shirt to reveal a thin layer of bandages wrapped around his chest. He pulls them down just enough to where Bucky is able to see about three quarters of a five inch diameter metal plate right in the center of the man's pecs. It glowed an other worldly blue, the skin around the plate seemed mostly healed though.
"Damn." Was all Bucky could get out. Even Steve took a step closer to see. Neither of them had ever seen anything like it, and working in their lines they tended to see a lot of prosthetics.
"Got this souvenir while serving in Afghanistan." Tony said, tapping the rim lightly with his metal fingers. The bright red hand and the vibrant blue going together perfectly somehow.
"You're a veteran?" Steve asked, suddenly sounding thoughtful which Bucky mentally noted to come back to later because he really needed to teach Steve not to judge people by their appearance and that just because you served shouldn't automatically make you a good person, just like going to church doesn't make you a good person.
"Yeah, only for three years though, about five years ago, got discharged when I had to cut a five by five hole in my chest."
"Wait, we've both served?" Asked Bucky, looking back up at Tony with a dazzling smile. Tony nodded. "I have the perfect name," He paused for dramatic effect, "The Iron Soldiers."
Tony hummed appreciatively. "Damn, I got to say, that's freakin' good." He rolled the bandages back over his chest prosthetic and then straightened his shirt back out. But then Bucky realized something. "Wait, if you served five years ago, and the skin seems healed enough, why do you still cover your chest in bandages?" He asked. "Sorry, not to pry or anything."
Tony only smiled and said, "It's just a bit too flashy." Then as he walked over to Bucky's bike he threw a wink over his shoulder and asked, "So are we doin' business or what?"