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It’s hard, sometimes, for Bucky to look in the mirror and see whatever it is that Tony sees that makes him want to be with Bucky.
His eyes are nice, he guesses, but they have a tendency to go flat and distant with painful memories.
His smile isn’t too bad, but he knows he doesn’t do it often enough, that more often than not his mouth is turned down in a frown.
His body is muscular and strong—things that modern social media and movies tell him is appealing, and Tony certainly seems to like being manhandled, but for all his strength he’s also covered in scars.
So really, he doesn’t know what it is that Tony sees in him, so he mostly doesn’t look in the mirror.
Now though, he can’t avoid it because Tony’s body is a hot line against his back, mouth slipping across his skin as he whispers praise, hands worshiping every inch of Bucky’s body he can reach—and he watches it happen in the mirror that Tony has propped at the end of the bed and wants to flee or break down sobbing at how overwhelming this is.
Tony’s mouth presses into the mess of scar tissue and his eyes fall shut, growing damp as his breathing goes ragged and harsh, Tony’s hands holding him close as he shakes uncontrollably.
“You’re beautiful darling,” Tony says, brushing the words against his skin, voice low and tender, and Bucky shudders, hands reaching up to cover Tony’s, clinging to him as emotion rises within him like a tidal wave.
“‘S a mess,” he rasps out, trying to hunch his skin away from Tony’s hot mouth, even as he craves more.
“So is my chest,” Tony replies, nuzzling his nose into Bucky’s sweaty hair. “Doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful,” he says, pressing his lips to Bucky’s scars once more.
Bucky can’t come up with a response, too overwhelmed, so he twists and captures Tony’s mouth with his, achingly grateful that Tony doesn’t say anything about the tears on his skin.
He’s not sure he can believe what Tony says about his scars, but he feels safe here in Tony’s embrace, so for now he holds on and breathes through the overwhelming feeling of Tony pressing kisses into each and every one of his scars, all of the places he feels insecure about, the places he feels torn open, even still.
Maybe they can work together to heal those torn open places so that someday when Tony calls him beautiful he can believe it, see it when he looks in the mirror.
For now, this is enough.