reioka:

40. “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”

The Asset grunted as he hiked Stark higher on his back. He did not grumble, but he did silently fume about having to bring Stark with him. He would have just left the man at the burning Hydra base, but Stark was friends with Captain America, and the Asset was hard-pressed to upset Captain America when he might need to use him for help.

It didn’t help that Stark did not have the Asset’s stamina, and had dropped to his knees after only eight miles of hiking. He’d begged the Asset to leave him, and the Asset had seriously considered it, but they were still miles from civilization, and if Stark died from the elements, the Captain would probably be pissed about that too. So he’d had to scoop Stark up and carry him. At least this way, if they were attacked, he could just drop Stark and stand over him to defend him.

Stark had been blessedly silent for the first couple of hours. The Asset assumed it was because of the exhaustion; Stark had been escaping Hydra when the Asset had showed up, so who knew how long he’d been going by that time. (The Asset had been disappointed that he hadn’t been able to blow up the base himself, but had been pleased with Stark’s thoroughness.) The Asset knew it was only a matter of time, though–Stark could use talking as a weapon, so once he was able to, he would probably start chattering at him.

The sun went down, and the Asset considered whether or not to rest. If he kept moving, he could get rid of Stark sooner, but if he wanted to be in top condition, he would need to take a breather, especially if he was going to continue carrying him. Stark made a soft noise that sounded like a whimper, and the Asset felt the soft part of his psyche push. Rest, it said. The Asset couldn’t find a good argument, so he set Stark down on a log and set about making a fire. Then, once the fire was going, he picked Stark up, log and all, and moved him closer.

“Wha-! Holy shit,” Stark wheezed, clinging to the log. “Okay, Muscles, no need to show off. I was suitably impressed when you carried me for several hours.”

The Asset rolled his eyes and sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around him to draw him closer. No point in letting Stark get pneumonia or something after carrying him so long. (He thought, perhaps, that he remembered a smaller chest wheezing for air. He chased the memory, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“You know, I used to do this as a kid,” Stark said after a moment.

The Asset glanced at him, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Sit in front of the fire with my Bucky Bear, I mean,” Stark said, smirking.

The Asset stared at him, then rolled his eyes with a reluctant snort.

Stark stared at him, looking cautiously happy. “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”

The Asset tilted his head. “It’s not impossible that you’ve entered an alternate universe.”

“How dare you say such a thing to my face,” Stark said. “Also give me your shirt.”

“What,” the Asset said, and had to force himself not to smack Stark’s hands away when he reached out to try and take his shirt by force. He grabbed Stark’s hands and shoved them away. “What?”

“My blisters have blisters,” Stark complained. “Loafers weren’t meant for long hikes. You run hot, so you won’t miss your shirt if I rip it up for bandages.”

“Give me your feet,” the Asset said immediately. Stark stared at him, looking horrified, and then tried to squirm away. The Asset dragged him back. “What the hell are you–”

“Are you gonna cut off my feet?!” Stark blurted out.

The Asset could count on one hand the times he had been bewildered. It was once. This was the one time. “Why would I cut off your feet.”

“You can’t just–tell me to give you my feet with a face like that!” Stark exclaimed defensively. “Like you want to cut them off!”

The Asset considered this. He let his lips stretch into what felt like a smile. “Give me your feet.”

“…This is somehow worse,” Stark said.

The Asset grabbed for Stark’s ankle, impatient, only to nearly take a screwdriver to the eye–the only reason he didn’t was because he jerked backward when Stark screamed in terror. “Where did you get a screwdriver?!”

“I always have a screwdriver,” Stark said.

The Asset stared. Was that an innuendo? Somehow it was more intimidating if it was. He sighed. “Just let me see your feet.”

“I would rather die after the smile you just gave me,” Stark informed him imperiously.

The Asset did not scowl. He wanted to though. “That can be arranged.” He did make a frustrated sound when Stark only tightened his grip on the screwdriver.

Well, he thought with an internal sigh. Clearly the danger was past. If Hydra was coming after them, they would have found them already–especially after the way Stark screamed.

“…Why did the Asset shove me to the fore and say ‘your problem now?’“ Bucky asked. He jerked backward when he saw Tony was threatening him with a screwdriver. “What the hell?!”

“Bucky?” Tony asked, and relaxed minutely. “You don’t wanna cut off my feet, right?”

“What the fuck,” Bucky asked, and felt the tiniest bit of amusement from the Asset in the back of his mind.

But Tony threw his arms around his neck to kiss him in relief, so. He supposed he didn’t really need to understand.