You Give Me Fever
Okay. So Bucky does yoga. No big deal. Lots of people do yoga, Clint. Natasha does yoga. You’ve done yoga, on occasion to prove to Natasha that you can.
So yeah. It’s a totally normal phenomenon. And no reason at all to stand gawking in the doorway with your mouth open as wide as a barn door.
It’s just that… he didn’t know Bucky did yoga. And he certainly didn’t know Bucky did it in their living room at exactly the time when Clint was coming back from dog walking. So he wasn’t expecting to find his roommate (and maybe, slight, possible, full on raging crush) wearing tight workout clothes, glistening with a slight sheen of sweat and… bending.
Bucky pushes up into a full bridge position and suddenly Bucky’s looking at Clint and Clint is looking at… Bucky’s crotch.
The door is still open. Lucky runs over to give Bucky a hello lick and… Clint does not want to finish that thought because he kind of wants to do the same.
“You coming in?” Bucky asks.
“Yoga,” Clint says.
“Yeah,” Bucky agrees. He doesn’t even sound strained. His posture is completely steady, the muscles in his arms standing out as they keep him up.
Then Bucky bends more. He folds his arms up under him, pushing his back high. His crotch is still right there, just… more so. If that’s even possible.
“It’s good for flexibility.”
“Meurgh,” Clint replies. His brain is on vacation. His tongue is mostly just trying not to fall out of his mouth until he’s panting like Lucky.
“Maybe you should close the door,” Bucky suggests.
“Mmhm.”
Bucky walks his feet up under him and bends his legs as well until he’s folded like a sexy upside-down turtle on the floor.
Clint has no idea what he’s thinking anymore. There’s a strip of flesh showing, right across Bucky’s middle, where the tank top rides up and his yoga pants don’t quite reach it, just a sneaky little strip of skin and abs with the hint of dark hair.
Clint wants to taste it.
“Are you going to do it, or just stand there?” Bucky asks. Clint almost swallows his tongue, brain faltering at the very idea. Lucky comes to stand at his feet, his wagging tail thumping against the door.
The door, that’s what Bucky’s talking about.
Clint drags his eyes away and turns to close the door, trying to get his face under control.
When he turns around, Bucky’s moved again. He’s standing now, sort of, leg’s spread and body bent in half so he’s looking at Clint from between his knees.
“You okay, Clint?” Bucky asks.
“Fine,” Clint squeezes out through his teeth.
Don’t look at his ass. Don’t look at his ass.
Clint looks at his ass.
The image is seared into his memory forever.
“Do you want to try it?” Bucky asks.
Fuck yes, says Clint’s brain. His dick jerks in vigorous agreement. His jeans are feeling a whole lot tighter all of a sudden.
“There are some positions you can do in pairs,” Bucky continues. Clint bites back a whimper. Bucky is dating the Winter Soldier. The Winter Soldier will literally kill Clint if he hits on his boyfriend. Not to mention the fact that Bucky doesn’t need to feel uncomfortable doing perfectly normal and in no way erotic exercise in his own home. Clint is a terrible roommate.
“You see,” Bucky says, moving his body in some improbable way that makes his muscles ripple. “And you lie underneath me–”
“Got to go shower. Dog slobber!” Clint declares, running for the bathroom door.
*
After Clint disappears and the hum of the shower starts up, the living room is mostly quiet apart from the beating of Lucky’s tail against the floor. Bucky unfolds himself and sits down, reaching over to scratch Lucky’s head. He grins and Lucky grins back, tail beating twice as fast.
“Was it something I said?”