“What the actual fuck, Barnes.” Clint’s voice cuts through the common room, silencing everyone else’s conversations.
“Hmm?” Bucky looks up from his cards. Steve’s currently winning, the pile of pennies dwarfing Buck’s. He’s been working on a lulling Steve into a false sense of security and it’s finally about to pay off. This is not the time for distractions. Or a seemingly drunk Barton.
“Recon today?”
“Why’re you asking if you already know?” He’s only half-listening, watching Steve worry his lower lip. As composed as he is, Roger’s shit at hiding his excitement, even all these years later. Which means things are going to plan.
Barton doesn’t answer, Bucky doesn’t push for clarification, and the hum of conversations picks back up. It’s been a long, hot day, made worse in their uniforms. It had been hours in the sun, watching over the others through his scope, Clint on the other end of the roof. It had been advertised as a peaceful talk, but that just meant weapons would be much more discreet than normal.
They’d gotten through it without any spilled blood, which, while a win for the team, was just a knot of annoyances in Bucky’s gut. He wasn’t pleased with the baby-sitting position they still had him in, and on top of that, in the fuckin’ New York summer.
So yeah, he was cranky, and Barton wasn’t helping his mood. Steve, on the other hand…
Laying down his hand, Bucky sticks his tongue out at Steve as he pulls his winnings towards him. “Think you got one more in ya, Ro— “
Bucky cuts himself off with a yelp, wincing at the pain on the back of his neck. He can feel individual throbbing under the grip, fingerprints searing into flesh.
“The fuck, Barnes.” Clint’s voice is closer, rougher, and Bucky’s not quite sure what’s going on. Steve’s just watching, an amused look on his face, so he’s not in fight mode yet. Barton’s gonna get him there fast though.
“Better get your hand off me now or you’re gonna have to learn to shoot with one arm.”
“Naaah, you like my muscles too much to hurt ‘em like that.” Clint’s back to honey-sweet, and yeah, someone gave him a drink or three, cause the way he’s thumbing at Bucky’s neck is full of promise.
“Tequila?” Maybe it was Stark.
“Margaritas, you heathen.” Ahh, Thor. Makes more sense.
“Still not joking about your hand, Barton.” It was a lighter touch now, but the skin was still throbbing under Clint’s fingers.
“And ‘m still not joking about the fuck you did. C’mon, not in front of the family.” Clint tips his head towards the rest of the room, everyone else amusedly keeping their eyes on the situation.
“You’re a lucky punk, Rogers.” Bucky carefully stands up, glancing around before holding his cards out. “You in, Wilson?”
“Okay, so what the fuck.”Bucky isn’t even really angry anymore, just confused as all get out. He had been directed to Clint’s floor and left alone in the living room. Barton had disappeared down a hallway, threatening something or other at Bucky if he were to move a muscle.
“Sit down.” Clint’s voice doesn’t come any closer until Bucky settles into the couch. “Y’know, you’re sorta shit at taking care of yourself.”
“Pretty sure everyone else out there knows that already, so what’s going on? I was about to take Steve for everything he had.”
“Here, drink this.” A cold glass is pressed into Bucky’s hand. “And before you ask, it’s gatorade, non-alcoholic.”
Bucky tips the glass up, and yeah, he needed this. “You watchin’ my water intake now?”
“Someone has to, ass.” Cool fingers ruffle through Bucky’s hair. “Twist around, away from me.”
“‘m too tired for a trust fall, Barton,” he tries to sound threatening, but it’s lackluster and they both know it.
“I know.” The couch shifts as Clint sits down behind him. “Just gotta stay propped up for a little bit longer. And uhh, this might be cold.”
“Clint…” but then there’s cool freshness being carefully patted down on the back of his neck that freezes his voice. It warms a bit as Clint spreads it around, but it’s still worlds better than five seconds earlier.
“It’s aloe gel.” There’s an awkward squirting noise behind Bucky, and then Clint’s hands are back with more. “I got the good shit with the pain-killing numbing stuff in it. It should kick in pretty soon.”
Bucky wouldn’t describe Clint as delicate in any sense of the word, but he has a precise touch and steady hand when it comes to his bow and medic abilities and piloting skills. And while Barton had started out with buzzed confidence, Bucky can feel a slight tremble in Clint’s touch now, his fingers carefully tracing the burnt shell of Bucky’s ear.
If they switched places right now, Bucky’s sure he wouldn’t fare any better.
“Is it dumb how worried I got when I first saw you? It’s a goddamn sunburn and I’m freakin’ out.” Clint leans his head on Bucky’s shoulder, away from the gelled skin. “We’re both grown-ass adults and…I dunno.”
Bucky reaches up to gently pet at Clint’s hair. “Y’know how we don’t let ourselves have nice things? Like shit like this?” Clint nods under his touch. “We don’t know what to do with it when we do get it, or how to treat it. It’s either everything or nothing here with us.”
“I’m too drunk to know what you’re getting at, Bucks.” Clint nuzzles in closer, arm sliding around Bucky’s waist. “Gotta make it dumber.”
“You getting twisted about my sunburn means you care, just like me wantin’ to run when you first touched it. We don’t think we deserve good things, doll, but we gotta realize that we’re good for each other.”
Bucky can only hear his heartbeat in his ears, the heat radiating from his neck, but then Clint’s tightening up around him, his other arm wedging in between the couch and Bucky to complete the backwards hug. They stay like that until Bucky’s sure their breathing’s perfectly synced, the soft puff of Clint’s breath warm against his cheek. Until Clint presses a kiss to his shoulder, then his jaw, and then that soft spot behind Bucky’s ear.
“Whaddya think about a shower and nap right now?” Clint’s words are slightly slurred and Bucky’s sure it’s not the alcohol this time.
“Isn’t that gonna wash away everything you just did?”
“Babe, I am more than happy to do it all over again.”
Bucky twists around to face Clint, and god, the raw emotion and uncertainty on the other man’s face takes Buck’s breath away. He ducks forward, pressing his lips against Clint’s in a chaste kiss. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”