Futzing Bratva
Clinton Francis Barton, 'the greatest sharpshooter known to man,' was an infuriating man. He could hit a fly out of the air, at a hundred meters, while blindfolded. He once took an helicarrier down with one arrow. He also managed to get himself involved in a turf war with the Russian mob over a dog and an apartment building in Bed-Stuy.
"Get the fuck down, Clinton!" Bucky yelled, peeking over the overturned couch. Clint was standing dead-ass in the center of their apartment with a bow and arrow, while some idiot in a goddamn tracksuit fired at them. This was the exact behavior that cost him his hearing. And, presumably, the behavior that had turned him into a secret agent, for a stupid secret intelligence organization, that created the stupid Avengers. God, he was the worst.
Lucky barked from upstairs, but at least he stayed under cover instead of trying to get himself shot.
Clint shot an arrow at the Russian, releasing some sort of putty nonsense all over his feet. As though that was going to make the situation any better. Now the dracula couldn't turn away. "Don't worry about it, Buck." Clint turned back to grin at him. This was the sort of shit Bucky's idiot boyfriend lived for, and the sort of shit Bucky hated.
Bucky sighed and fired his gun towards the - still firing - mobster. At least Clint hung out with some reasonable people, who left guns in random places around the apartment. He couldn't shoot a bow and arrow.
"What the fuck, bro?" The dracula hadn't expected someone in the apartment firing a sensible weapon.
Bucky looked over the couch again, grinning at Clint when he saw the idiot mobster bleeding from the leg. "Can we call the police, Clinton?"
"No, the general plan is to scare them off. Then they'll futz off to wherever they came from."
"They're Russians, Barton." Three years into their relationship and Clint didn't seem to understand how ridiculous his people were. And these were worse than the usual ones. "They're not just going to fuck off."
He'd gone home with a hot guy after a bar, and then he was involved in a turf war with the shitty version of the Bratva. He was going to kill Clint.
Bucky grinned and stood up when the gunfire didn't pick back up. 'Hello, jackass.'
The Russian frowned at him.
'How many times are you going to come here and lose to an idiot with a fucking bow and arrow?' He asked, glancing up at Clint. who was still smiling plaintively at him. Lust building up in his eyes. Apparently, the vision of Bucky with a gun was attractive to him. 'It's a matter of pride, man.'
The Russian looked over at Clint and shrugged his shoulders. 'You sleeping with him, bro?'
'Yeah, bro. And I don't wear tracksuits. I'm not a fucking stereotype, unlike someone.' He waved his gun in the general direction of the Russian. 'You can't even leave because this idiot used a putty arrow.'
"SHIELD is on their way, Buck." Clint put his bow down and smiled. He was lucky he was cute. Because he was a complete idiot.
--
Bucky slid his hand into Clint's back pocket and leaned against Clint's side. "I'm gonna fuckin' kill you once the cops leave." He whispered, watching as some idiots from SHIELD wondered around their apartment in police uniforms. He had to have lost his mind to even want to stay with Clint.
Clint grinned, watching his coworkers mull around. "Yeah?" He slid his arm around Bucky's shoulders. "You kicked ass today, by the way."
"Clint, I had to shoot a guy because of your ridiculous disagreement with the Russians."
"And you looked great doing it."
Bucky tried to keep himself from smiling, but couldn't help himself. He had always enjoyed firing weapons, and it had been a bit like being back in the army. Even if it had just been a gunfight in Brooklyn. "Thanks, Clint. At least one of us has sense."