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Tony doesn't exactly have a plan when he jumps into a fight with a super soldier assassin, armed with only a watch gauntlet, because if he did his plan would probably be to not do that.
He doesn’t have a lot of other options though, so into the fight he goes.
It’s good to know that the gauntlet can in fact stop a point-blank bullet, even if Tony would have really prefered to test it out in a less dire situation. Then he looks up, actually meeting Barnes’ piercing gaze for the first time, and promptly forgets everything else.
He didn’t expect it to feel like this.
After all those years of furtively dreaming about it, reading everything from scientific papers to romance novels, after all the times he told himself not to but still hoped, Tony thought he knew what to expect if this day ever came. But he’s not at all prepared for how overwhelming the link is when it hits, how quickly it happens.
Pain is the first thing that washes over him, pain and frustration and a cold, calculated fury. None of it is really unexpected from a highly trained and brainwashed assassin, but beneath all that there’s so much more. There’s strength and bravery and loyalty, beneath it all an incredible, steady warmth that nothing else can fully cover.
Tony can’t breathe, can’t move, he can’t think. Finally, after all this time, all the worrying and wondering and telling himself to just give up already, he finally meets his soulmate and finds out what all the hype is about, and it has to be like this.
It just has to be Barnes.
(Not that Tony can actually be upset about it, not when he can feel Barnes, the strength and the pain and the horror, how hard he’s been fighting for the past seventy years. That he’s a survivor, that he just wants to rest. No, even with the circumstances they’re in, with the mess that getting out of them is going to be, Tony can’t be upset about who his soulmate has turned out to be at all.)
He has no idea how long he spends frozen in place, just staring with wide eyes, and the upside is that at least Barnes appears to be in the same boat and wow his eyes are a stunning shade of blue in the bright light that pours into the building. It feels like hours that they stand there frozen in shock, even though it can’t be more than a split second, they’re in the middle of a fight, but fuck it feels like a lifetime. And it kind of is, a lifetime’s worth of emotions and struggles and Barnes pouring into him, filling his chest.
The moment breaks slowly, Barnes’ eyes widening bit by bit, and then he finally rips the gun away from where it’s still pressed to Tony’s palm. Tony doesn’t even think about it, his thumb is already on the slide stop, all he has to do is shift his grip a little, and when Barnes pulls away the slide of the gun remains in Tony’s hand.
Barnes’ eyes shift down to the gun, but Tony can still feel the intensity of his stare just as easily as he can feel the spark of reluctantly impressed, and when Barnes looks up at him again Tony smirks.
It’s part acceptance and part question, part his burning need to be a bit of a smug asshole in every situation, and beneath the understandable anger that Barnes is feeling there’s also shock, and hope. Beneath it all a warm wave of amusement that makes Tony’s breath threaten to catch in his throat.
Tony can feel the sharp, icy grip of the conditioning closing in around Barnes’ mind again, and it hadn’t made a whole lot of sense when Steve tried to quickly explain it earlier but oh does Tony get it now. It’s like a vice closing around his mind, around every limb, ready to direct his every motion despite the fact that Tony can feel Barnes beneath it, still trying to fight it. Always trying to fight it.
It’s not a fight he wins often, Tony knows it as clearly as if he was there for every struggle, so he’s expecting it when the fist comes swinging at his face despite Barnes’ best attempts to stop.
Even expecting it, Tony is only barely able to lean back out of the way. Barnes’ fist still grazes over his temple, still knocks the glasses off his face, but at least it was the flesh hand and Tony is able to stay on his feet. The next punch is easier, he knows it’s coming before Barnes even moves, and Tony could easily use another blast from the gauntlet to knock Barnes back, to try to put some space between them.
But Tony doesn’t want space, not after finally finding him.
So instead he knocks the back of the gauntlet against Barnes’ wrist and redirects the force of his swing enough to create an opening, enough that Tony can step around him, letting their shoulders brush as he does it because he just can't resist. Even through all their layers of clothes the contact sends a jolt of warmth and familiarity through Tony’s entire body and he can feel it as the same sensation works its way through Barnes, upsetting the hold of the conditioning and thrilling the man trapped beneath it.
Tony does it again, and again, barely dodging blow after blow and every chance he gets to take a step back he presses closer instead. He doesn't want a second to catch his breath, to let someone else jump in, Tony's heart is pounding against the cage of his ribs and all he cares about is that with every missed punch and every dodged knee the Winter Soldier gets more frustrated, his movements slowing further as the conditioning continues to fracture and Barnes gets a little closer to the surface.
He lets his hands linger on Barnes’ wrists and arms far longer than strictly necessary to deflect his blows, pressing their backs flush together for a moment as he dodges and shifts around behind Barnes, chasing the bolt of electricity that shoots through them both with every brief point of contact. Tony knows how dangerous this is, the longer this goes on the more frustrated the Soldier becomes, confused why Tony isn’t reacting the way he probably should and why Barnes is fighting so hard to break through.
One wrong move and Tony is going to get himself seriously hurt or worse, but he can’t stop.
Tony knows, he knows that if he messes this up, if he doesn’t get this moment just right, then he may never get another try. If he lets the Winter Soldier leave, if he lets Barnes be taken, then Tony is going to lose the thing he’s spent his entire life telling himself that he wasn’t waiting for before they even get a chance.
And fuck does Tony want that chance, wants to actually get to know the man who’s suddenly taking up half the space in his head. He wants to actually feel the warmth and goodness that Hydra’s conditioning is trying so hard to suppress, he wants to get to experience the dark sense of humor and gooey romanticism that Tony knows is there no matter how deeply it’s been buried under years of trauma and repression.
Barnes is right here, his soulmate is so close after forty years of pretending he’s not waiting for this and beneath everything else Tony knows that Barnes is reaching for him too. That he’s been struck by the same overwhelming rush of shock, awe, hope, that he’s just as stunned and elated as Tony to finally be here, that they’re so close now.
Tony is dimly aware of people gathering around the fringes of the room, ready to jump in, and they get a little closer when the knife Barnes has pulled from somewhere catches in the front of Tony’s vest, easily splitting the fabric. More important than any of that though, Tony can feel the Winter Soldier’s conditioning cracking, splintering into jagged pieces that threaten to shred Barnes’ mind right along with it, and they’re running out of time.
Barnes swings his hand up again, his grip white knuckled around the knife as he aims for Tony’s stomach, and someone in the room shouts something but Tony doesn’t even register it past how clearly he can hear Barnes. Beneath the cold grip of the programming the man is screaming with fear and horror, begging Tony to step back, to stop, to just be safe. His entire body is shaking with his efforts to stop himself and he just wants Tony to run, to not let him do this, but like hell is Tony going to leave him here alone.
So he catches Barnes’ wrist and instead of stepping out of range he once again presses in closer, close enough that Tony can feel the heat coming off his broad chest, and it catches the Soldier so off guard that he doesn’t try to break free from Tony’s grip outside of a single halting tug. Or maybe Barnes just isn’t letting himself pull away, still terrified of what he’ll do with that knife if his hand is free, and when he shifts his weight back like he’s going to step away Tony follows him, completely ignoring the metal hand that flies up to land at the base of his throat in favor of hooking his free hand around the back of Barnes’ neck and pulling him in before he has time to react.
It results in their foreheads knocking together a little harder than Tony intended, painfully reminding him of the shiner he can already feel swelling, but oh he can’t regret it because now all he can see is Barnes’ deep blue eyes, and he can see the light trying to break through beneath the cold steel of his stare. Neither of them breathe and for all Tony knows the entire world has frozen around them, nothing else exists but the rapid, unsteady thrum of Barnes’ pulse beneath his fingertips and how perfectly it matches the thundering beat of Tony’s own heart in his battered chest.
Please, Tony thinks as he drops his shoulders, loosens his grip on Barnes’ wrist and completely drops his guard, paying no mind to the fingers still twitching against his neck. He doesn’t know if it’s directed at Barnes or just at the world, at anyone who will fucking listen, please give me a chance. Please don’t take this away.
Barnes is as still and firm as a statue against him, fine tremors running through him, and from this close it would be so easy to snap Tony’s neck in his metal hand, to break free from Tony’s grip and bury the knife between his ribs, Tony wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing to stop him and they both know it.
Tony’s pretty sure Barnes is calling him a reckless, self-sacrificing idiot somewhere deep in his mind, but he’s also pretty sure Barnes is thinking it with a sort of stunned fondness, so he’ll happily take it. He’ll take anything.
Please.
Abruptly Barnes’ eyes fall closed as he lets out a hard breath, and his forehead presses more firmly to Tony’s as all of the tension holding him up suddenly vanishes, like a puppet with its strings cut. The knife clatters loudly against the ground when Barnes lets it fall, echoing endlessly in the large, deathly silent room, and then his eyes open again.
“Oh,” Tony says, his own breath escaping in a hard rush as that piercing stare lands on him again and it’s so much different. There’s no icy distance, no solid wall of other between them, just warmth and amazement and gratitude. Just the pure, light blue of Barnes’ eyes and Tony can see him more clearly than ever.
Tony couldn’t say for sure at this point which of them is holding the other up, they’re both swaying slightly on their feet and when Barnes moves his metal hand again Tony doesn’t so much as think to flinch, even when someone nearby lets out a strangled sound. Barnes shifts his head just enough that he can trace one cool fingertip beneath the swelling bruise around Tony’s eye, and Tony’s already unsteady breath catches in his throat.
“Sorry,” Barnes says and the word is barely more than a breath, barely a sound at all, but Tony hears him perfectly. He can hear everything behind the words too, the guilt and regret and horror, the fear when Tony didn’t run, the hope that he wouldn’t.
“You can make it up to me,” Tony breathes back and he even manages a small smile, shaky but real. They can figure this mess out, they can make it work, Tony has been waiting his entire goddamn life for this and nothing is going to take his strong, resilient soulmate from him now.
One corner of Barnes’ lips quirks up, his breath warm where it washes over Tony’s lips and his pulse still racing under Tony’s fingers, and Tony is waiting breathlessly to see the smile that he knows is growing when the moment is interrupted by the rest of the world deciding to make itself known again.
“What- what the fuck,” comes a sputtering voice, loud and far closer than Tony expected.
Barnes’ head whips up and Tony reluctantly turns his attention in that direction as well, letting his hand linger on Barnes’ shoulder before falling back to his side. It seems they have attracted a bit of a crowd, and while Tony isn’t sure who actually spoke he is sure that the stunned speechless expressions on Steve and most of the random unnamed agent’s faces are going to be hilarious later.
“Well, that’s one way to stop a rampaging assassin,” Wilson says, looking like he’s not sure if he should laugh or go beat his head against the wall.
Tony gives Barnes’ wrist a gentle squeeze, pulling his attention back, and Tony idly wonders how long being the focus of that intense blue will completely steal his breath away. Hopefully forever.
“Lets go figure this mess out,” Tony says, putting all the confidence he possibly can into the words even though he has no idea how they’re actually going to do that, not with the accusations and angry politicians currently hanging over Barnes, over both of them now, but they’ll figure something out.
With his eyes fixed on Barnes it’s hard to be sure who lets out the disbelieving scoff, and who makes the embarrassingly startled squeaking noise, but Tony really can’t find it in himself to care when Barnes is steadily watching him back. He’s not at all convinced by Tony’s fake confidence, probably because he can tell that it’s fake and that’s going to take some getting used to, but his lips pull up into the tiniest smile and the wave of trust that rushes over Tony could knock him off his feet.
“Let’s figure this out,” Barnes says quietly and he means together, he means I’m not letting go of you either. He means I can’t believe you’re here, that it’s you, I can’t believe I’ve gotten this lucky after all this time.
And Tony knows the feeling.