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It started, as most things do, with a look.
“So, you and Stark, huh?” Bucky asked. He flopped down on the couch, swinging his legs up into Steve’s lap. “When were you gonna tell me?”
“There’s nothing-”
“Don’t lie to me, punk. I just watched you two circle each other for three solid hours.”
“We weren’t--I would never,” he replied. He rubbed the arch of Bucky’s foot. It was something he used to do before, after a long day of work, or training for his next match.
“It's been seventy years, Stevie. It would make sense if you had someone else while I was--” Bucky paused. He had only been himself for a short while now, and was working on believing everyone when they said he wasn’t to blame for the Winter Soldier. “--away.”
Steve grabbed the other foot and rubbed away a soreness Bucky didn’t even know he had. “Even so. Tony is an alpha, it just wouldn’t work.”
“You don’t actually believe that act, do you?” Bucky asked. Steve’s confused face was all the answer he needed. “Steve. Tony is a beta. He’s the beta-est beta I’ve ever seen in my whole life. Even more so than Evie Parker in freshman year.”
“You remember Evie Parker?”
Bucky kicked him lightly, “How could I not? She made us lunch every day for six months before we caught on she was tryin’ to court us.”
“But Tony, he’s all alpha. He flies a red and gold suit into battle for Christ’s sake. He’s the kind of alpha they write books about. Just like his dad,” Steve trailed off. “Howard was a flash-boy, that’s for sure. But Tony’s just playing the part,” Bucky replied. “Besides, that kind of alpha don’t interest me much.”
“That so?” Steve looked at him, his soft blue eyes and gentle smile igniting the omega part of Bucky he always tried to ignore. Steve was never flashy, never had the dance moves or the desire to ply his omegas with shiny gifts. He took your breath away with a look and even when he was half the size he was now, got Bucky’s blood going with just a hand on his ankle and a wicked tilt to his lips.
Bucky shifted his hips, legs falling open in invitation, “Come find out.”
Steve brought it up again the next morning. Tony had made it to breakfast before jetting off to a meeting with Pepper and they watched him shift from beta to alpha as he put his suit jacket and sunglasses on as he walked out the door.
“Huh.”
“Yup.” Bucky reached for the last bit of yogurt out of the bottom of the cup, scrabbling the spoon into the corners and sides.
“What made you notice it the other day?” Steve grabbed the empty cup, an annoyed look on his face and handed Bucky a full one.
“Well,” Bucky dipped his spoon in and left it so he could swing his arm wide, “look at the nest he built.”
“Alphas buy flashy houses all the time, that doesn’t mean he’s a beta.”
“Alphas buy, Stevie. Betas design. They turn houses into homes and I’m honestly shocked that you and no one else noticed. He could have dumped the team into any apartment complex in the city, or left them to their own devices to find housing.”
“But we each have a floor,” Steve said.
“Custom designed with our comfort in mind. And a team floor, and a gym with machines and equipment built for everyone’s strength, and all our favorite foods. That's not even counting all the shit to keep you guys safe while Avenging.”
Bucky finished off the second yogurt in silence, watching the gears turn in Steve’s head. He was probably picking over every interaction with Tony since the day they met, puzzling out any hints he missed.
“I’ll be goddamned.”
“Language, Steve.”
The doors to Tony’s workshop opened with a whoosh.
“Hello Captain. Sir is in the garage.”
“Thanks Jarvis,” Steve replied. A twirling DUM-E greeted him as well, and led him back to the garage. He found Tony’s lower half sticking out from under the Shelby.
“Hey Tony, got a minute?”
A muffled, “For you, as many minutes as you need,” came from somewhere under the engine. He scooted out a moment later, grabbing a rag to wipe his hands down. “What’s up?”
Steve looked him over before answering. Tony’s hair was wild, lines etched through what was once thickly styled from his fingers running through it. He had a fine spray of dirt over his temple, and more smudged across his forehead from mopping up sweat. He wore a thoroughly destroyed MIT shirt that looked like it had been through the war, and jeans with thick lines of grease painted across the thigh, likely from Tony cleaning his tools. He felt the familiar pull in his belly, the same he felt when he saw Bucky in a fight for the first time. His alpha signaling --This one is ours.
“You know how you got back my things, from before I went into the ice?” Steve’s voice wavered more than he thought it would. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat as Tony nodded, “I need some help repairing a few things.”
“Of course. What are we talking?” Tony asked. He stood and went to the sink to wash up.
Steve followed and leaned against the edge of the counter by the sink. “Ma’s courting jewelry.”
Tony’s head snapped up. “Courting jewelry.”
“Yeah. They were,” Steve’s heart beat faster. He hadn’t felt this nervous since 1943. “They were always going to be what I used for Buck. But then the war happened, and he didn’t want to bond before we found a beta, so I never properly gave them to him. I was wondering if you knew how to make them look brand new. How to present them to him?”
“Steve, you know I’m a--”
“A beta?”
Tony was quiet as he dried his hands.
“I’m sorry if I crossed a line, but, I’m not wrong, am I?”
“No, it’s just...no one has ever figured it out other than Rhodey and Pep.”
“Bucky figured it out. He, uh, told me I was being an idiot and that I should alpha up and say something to you.”
“You’ve got a pretty smart omega, Cap.”
“I do.” Steve closed the distance between them. “Would you want to have dinner with us?”
“And he’s ok? With this?” Tony said, his hands gestured between them. “If it looks like he has two alphas?”
“He said if I didn't ask, he was going to do it, and I quote, ‘His own damn self.’ So, yeah, I think so. We took a shine to you as you are, nothing we’d ever ask to change. Plus, I think he secretly likes the little bit of flash-boy persona, to be honest.”
Tony smiled, his face lit with the soft glow of the shop lights and a blush of happiness. “How’s Friday sound?”
Bucky didn’t need the flash and ceremony most alpha’s put on, but he had to admit--it was kind of nice being Tony Stark’s omega. As a beta masquerading as an alpha to the public, he complimented Steve’s quiet alpha confidence and competence. And two strategic minds coming together to court him was like sitting front row at the Stark Expo all over again.
He knew something was up when he overheard Tony and Pepper talk about clearing his schedule for a few days leading up to his scheduled heat. They’d been dating long enough for Tony to have helped with the last two, and he’d asked Bucky for permission to put his future cycle dates on his calendar.
Then Steve said he was packing their bags, and Bucky wasn’t allowed to help or see what he was packing. “You just sit there and look pretty,” he’d said.
It didn’t take a genius to see that they were going to bond him. All proper like and everything. He’d have said yes after some pizza from Vinny’s and a Dodger’s game, but a little part of him was thrilled that they were going through the effort. That after everything, he was still worth being courted and wooed.
The first stop was Cape Canaveral. Tony called in a favor, and Bucky and Steve were treated to a tour and history of space flight lesson more in depth than the quick “Here’s what you missed while you were a murderbot and a capsicle” class given by Shield. Bucky felt his heart fluttering every time he caught Tony and Steve watching him with obvious pride on their faces. The omega part of him preened under their attention, his mates loved his excitement instead of deriding it like society told him they would.
Steve picked the next part of the trip; three days on Route 66 with Bucky behind the wheel and Tony picking the music. It was something they had daydreamed about one night in Brooklyn when the weight of empty stomachs and looming war was too much to bear. His mates plied him with greasy diner burgers and fooling around in the backseat under the stars.
They posed for a cheesy photo at the End of the Trail sign in Santa Monica, letting Tony take over the driver’s seat to get them to Malibu and his cliff-side home.
“Welcome to Casa de Stark,” Tony said as he opened the doors.
“Swanky, babe,” Bucky kissed Tony on the cheek as he walked in, Steve close behind with the bags. He took in the seaside view as Tony led them around for a quick tour that ended with the bedroom. He wanted to wade into the surf and cool his skin warmed by pre-heat and the sun as they drove.
“I had some things brought over from the Tower, to make it a proper nest for you.”
And what a proper nest it was. Instead of a bed, there was the large floor cushion they had in his nest at the tower draped in the thin blankets he favored. A stack of pillows that looked new stood against one side along with fluffy white towels and a towel warmer machine that had been Bucky’s favorite invention of this century.
Steve nudged him towards the nest. “I have something for you.”
There was a wooden box on the cushion. Bucky knew that box. Steve moved it from apartment to apartment, storing it in the top drawer of his dresser all those years.
“Steve, I--” Bucky started. “You don’t have to.”
“But I want to. They are yours. They always have been.”
Bucky knelt. His heart was in his throat, stopping any words from escaping. He’d never looked inside, respecting Steve’s privacy, but he could tell the fabric inside was new. The jewels shined like little stars against a velvet sky, set in gold. It was a traditional set; a ring for each finger, a necklace made of graduated lengths of chain to dangle down the center of an omega’s chest, two anklets and two bracelets glittered with diamonds, and lastly a circlet made of strands of gold woven together with a large teardrop diamond in the center that would sit squarely between Bucky’s brows.
Steve’s body pressed close to his back, warm and solid and pressing a kiss to Bucky’s shoulder. He felt Tony join them, kneeling next to Bucky, his arms sliding between Bucky and Steve’s body.
“You don’t have to say yes now. But they are yours. We’re yours.”
Bucky picked out a ring, one that looked like it went over his fourth finger on his left hand. It slid over the metal smoothly, sized perfectly. “Yes, of course it’s a yes.”
Tony kissed him first; electric and fast, igniting the fire in Bucky’s belly. Tony’s hands moved him, twisting him to kiss Steve over his shoulder. Steve kissed him slowly and deep, scenting like alpha triumph from earning his omega’s bond as he licked into his mouth. When they pulled back, Steve’s smile was his own brand of wicked, the one that turned Bucky’s knees to jelly in 1935.
Bucky moved to the cushion, his hands on both his mate’s shirts to pull them closer in invitation, “After you bond me, can we get pizza?”