The deep purple shirt stands out amongst the crowd. It’s garish, and Bucky has grown to know it well. The perpetrator where’s this every week. Bucky, however, wheres a different pair of black jeans and button-up every week with the same Chelsea boot. Tonight he’d forgot to shave, but the stubble there was fueling his aesthetic, Steve had said he’s looked hot in a totally heterosexual bro way.
The 80’s classic is still pumping its way out of the speaker as he moves closer to the man in the purple shirt. His chest ends up pressed against the back of it, and from here Bucky can tell the man is a little flushed.
“Can I buy you a drink sweetheart?” Bucky’s lips are close to his ear now, telling himself that it’s because the music is loud, and this man’s hearing isn’t the best already. In reality, he just wants to get the man even more heated, flushed, so he can grab that ass and take him back to his apartment.
“Mmm, yes, please. The usual.” It doesn’t have to be spoken that loudly, but Bucky knows why. The ‘usual’ shouldn’t have to be used. They shouldn’t just have to meet here every Saturday, they should meet outside of this shitty pub. Bucky should pull the man back into his arms and keep him there. But this fling works, and it works very well. Romance and emotions are difficult for Bucky right now, Sex helps and seems like it does for his man too.
The drinks are ordered, and the two of them drink them fast, before making their way over into the middle of the room. Bucky’s hand is on the bottom of his back, resting just above the acid-washed skinny jeans. The metal fingers are tempted to dip down further, to duck into the hem, but it’s way too early into their ritual.
They dance against each other, Bucky moves his hand up to hold the back of his neck and pulls him in for a kiss as they keep on dancing. The man’s pressed close against him, and Bucky has his hand in the back of his fling’s pants. His flesh fingers meet the soft lace and he wants to just take him home already. But they haven’t finished their game yet.
“I don’t usually do this kind of thing… Does it change the way you think of me?” His voice isn’t as loud, because he’s speaking right into Bucky’s ear. It comes off exasperated, the man’s already out of breath and Bucky’s only just started touching him.
“Of course it doesn’t sweetheart. It’s fucking hot.” Bucky leans up to bite his earlobe, then gently moves his hips. “You promise to show me them later right?”
“As long as you keep on dancing with me, darling. And take me home.” He’s gripping his hand tightly as he begins to pulls him from the club. They’ve started to kiss again as they weave themselves through the other couples, the people starting fights and just bystanders. Outside on the street, they part for a few seconds so that they can check where they’re going. He’s sure to guide them in the way of the man’s flat. Steve wouldn’t be impressed if he brought someone else home.
“You gonna tell me your name this time doll?” Their backing up into the flat now, Bucky closes the door before pushing the man down onto the sofa.
“Will we talk in the morning?” He’s looking sincere now, and Bucky feels almost guilty. Clint’s never asked that before.
“About anything you want sweetheart. Anything for you.” Bucky’s able to talk in his low sensual voice, now that the music isn’t stopping this beauty from hearing it.
“Clint.” It comes out as a whisper like he’s scared. But Bucky hears it. He presses closer to clint, wow that sounds weird in his head, and kisses him again, grinding against him harder now. The man with the purple shirt, with the lace panties to match is called Clint, and Bucky loves it. It suits him, and it makes Bucky want to do more to him.
Somehow, during the passions of the night, they end up moving to the bed. Bucky doesn’t know how, but it happens. In the morning, Bucky’s about to get up and slip his shirt back on, when he remembers his promise.
He rests one arm behind his head, as the other scrolls through social media on his phone, and answers a few texts from Steve. It’s about five minutes later that Clint wakes up, rolling over and wrapping his arm around Bucky’s chest.
“You stayed?” His voice is kind of loud, and Bucky wonders whether the aids are in or not yet. A quick glance confirms that no, Clint has not got them in. He reaches over to get them for him and passes them over. The blonde stumbles to place them and hook them over, but once he’s done he looks up at Bucky.
“Of course I stayed doll. I promised didn’t I?” Clint moves quickly to kiss him on the lips and Bucky can’t help but let out a grin.
“This mean we don’t have to keep meeting there every Saturday? Can I have your number or something?” Clint looked up at him with a smug grin on his face, his hand moving up and down Bucky’s chest, drawing small little patterns.
“You wanna put your name in my phone darling?” Bucky passed it to Clint, and he complied, instantly typing it in, and taking a picture of himself for the little icon. Damn, he looked cute when he’s just woken up.
“You keep calling me all these nicknames. You have for weeks. Why?” Bucky saved the contact and messaged him ‘Hi :p’ before turning his head to look down at Clint.
“They suit you. And you deserve them? I don’t know really. Would you like me to stop.” Bucky said with all seriousness. A shake of the head was what he received.
“No. Never.”