Don't Take It Away From Me

I.

“You think they’re gonna figure it out?” Clint asked, turning the page of his mission report. It made the tower happy to think he was reading the files that were given to him. Someone, somewhere, apparently put effort into creating them, and it was only polite to read them. 

He just stared at the pages and turned them after an appropriate period of time. 

Bucky sighed and out of the corner of his eye Clint saw him turn his own page. He was nearly positive Bucky was doing the same thing he did with his reports. Fifty pages about Steve asking the morlocks to leave the subway alone was unreasonable. There hadn’t been a single weapon discharged in the entire thirty-minute ordeal. “No. They’re not bright enough.” 

Bucky let his metal arm slip off of the couch and brush against Clint’s exposed ankle. Clint hummed contentedly. He didn’t understand the science, and didn’t care much about it either – fuckin Nazis – but he knew the metal limb somehow stayed warm. “If they do, my money’s on Tony.” He turned the page again. 

“I’ll bet on Steve then,” he dropped his file onto his chest. Clint bet Bucky wouldn’t be scolded for not making it look like he’d read the literary genius in the file. Steve played favorites. Though he might have been convinced that Hydra had electrocuted Bucky’s ability to read out of his brain. Steve Rogers got stupid when Bucky Barnes was involved. Bucky loved to take advantage. 

“Nah,” he stared down at the printed words, “Steve’s got that old timey wimey brain. He won’t make a move, he doesn’t even know they’re flirting.” He couldn’t guarantee that, but he’d seen how surprised Steve was about any sort of homosexual behavior performed openly. 

“If I remember correctly, I’m the one who initiated this,” he gripped Clint’s ankle, “the day we met.” 

Clint scoffed and turned the page, “that’s because you hit on fellas in the 30s like you didn’t care about going to prison. Steve wouldn’t know flirting if Tony stood naked in front of him and offered it up.” He turned to look back at Bucky, noticing for the first time that he hadn’t even been reading the stupid morlock report. On his chest was a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. The report was probably more interesting, Clint thought, at the very least it was shorter. Bucky liked boring shit like that though, he said he hadn’t read well before the war so he was enjoying one of the few benefits Hydra had conferred on him. Clint could respect that. “Steve still looks over his shoulder for the cops if you so much as stand next to me.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes and picked the book up again. Upon closer review Clint realized the smarmy bastard was reading the book in French. As though Clint didn’t also know several languages. It wasn’t that impressive. “That’s just habit. He was always looking out for the police because I didn’t bother.” He turned the page of his book, “What are we putting on it?”

Clint rolled onto his back so he could fully appreciate Bucky’s relaxed form. He could cut steel with that fucking jaw. It was perfect to sit on as well. And those muscles. Clint groaned appreciatively just looking at Bucky’s chest muscles through his black tank top. “What?” 

“On the bet.”

“What do you want if you win?”

Bucky turned the page, his eyes scanning the words as though having a conversation didn’t affect his ability to comprehend what he was reading. It probably didn’t. “You’ve gotta go a week without eating pizza.”

“Aw, boyfriend no…” Clint pouted, “It’s supposed to be sexual.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes but didn’t look up from his book. “You see the problem with that, Clint, is that you’d do anything I asked in bed because you’re a kinky shit.” Clint supposed that was true. There was very little Clint hadn’t done before he’d met Bucky. And Clint got the impression that Bucky hadn’t had the chance to get very creative before the war. “What do you want?” 

“You gotta let me blow you at a restaurant.”

This got Bucky to put his book down and grin. “Always the performer.” 

“The glamor of the circus is addicting,” he grinned, “and I give spectacular head.”

The metal fingers wrapped around his ankle again, the thumb rubbing at the knot. “You do know how to give one hell of a suckjob.” 

“Thanks for that Buck,” Steve and Tony had apparently stopped arguing and Steve had made his way into the television room. Just in time to hear Bucky’s review of Clint’s dick sucking ability. Just what Clint had always wanted. 

“It’s legal now, Rogers.” Bucky grinned, releasing Clint’s ankle so he could sit up and make space for his best friend. He stuck his tongue out at Clint, happy to ignore the red flush in Clint’s cheeks. “Clint and I won’t even have to do hard labor for holding hands.” 

“Your two-hour argument with Tony was thrilling by the way.” Clint stated, his eyes locked back on his report. He still wasn’t reading it, but with Cap in the room he had to at least look like he cared about protocol. 

“He fell two hundred feet for a stunt!” Steve crossed his arms over his chest and when Clint glanced back at him he looked every bit the petulant child Clint had expected. Tony had dropped two hundred feet to change suits, but no one other than Steve had gotten the impression it had been a stunt. Steve was being dramatic because Tony was involved. 

There hadn’t been a two-hour argument the time Clint had fallen off of a skyscraper. He’d mostly just been told not to do it again. 

Preferential treatment. 

“I get it,” Bucky stared at the pages of his book, but his eyes weren’t moving. (“That way everyone won’t know I can’t read, Steve.”) “I yelled at Clint that time he got in a war with the Russian mob over a shitty apartment building.” 

“That’s hardly the same thing.” Steve frowned and reached out to take the book from Bucky. “Where’d you even get a French copy of this book?” 

“Stole it from Clint.” He lied. A piss poor lie, Clint thought. No one would believe Clint was intelligent enough to be reading a book like that in French. He had them all convinced he was an idiot. Except for Natasha, and she knew he’d never waste his time reading children’s tale’s like that.   

Steve frowned at Bucky’s answer but didn’t say anything. He liked to pretend he didn’t think Clint was an idiot. He was afraid of offending members of his team. That was part of why normal people liked following him. (Clint personally preferred other team leaders, but that might have been because he was human.) It was also possible that Steve just hated calling Bucky out on his shit.   

Bucky nodded, “Clinton is a purveyor of fine literature. Our apartment looks like a rare book store.” 

Their apartment looked like a suicidal college student lived there. Clint had never once brought a book past its front door until Bucky had moved in. 

Steve looked down at Clint, his brow furrowed. It seemed Bucky had finally told a lie too big. “You learn something new every day,” was the answer he settled on, and Bucky had to cover a snort of laughter with a sneeze. 

“You should just let Tony be Tony.” Clint offered as Steve took Bucky’s book from him. Bucky hated it when people took things out of his hands, but he let Steve get away with it because of their weird co-dependent life-long bond. Steve had been able to free Bucky from decades of brainwashing. He supposed that earned some concessions. 

Clint let Natasha get away with just about anything as well.

“I’m trying to keep him alive.” 

“He’s done a mostly decent job of that himself. Even before you were in his life.” Clint turned the page and looked down at a picture of the standoff. It looked as boring as it sounded. “Other than, you know, getting captured by terrorists a couple of times. But who here hasn’t been captured by terrorists a couple of times?” 

Clint could nearly feel the righteous indignation radiating off of Steve before the man said anything. “That is inappropriate!” 

Bucky took his book back from Steve, “Clint’s been captured so many times I can’t even count them. It’s his modus operandi.”

II. 

“What the fuck Clint?” Steve stormed into the medical room in which Clint was being held hostage. One of the Hydra goons had stabbed him in the stomach and pushed him out of his perch. Steve didn’t usually gripe at him for getting injured though. Bucky had already scolded him for managing to land on the only rock for two miles, and that had seemed sufficient. 

Bucky sat up in his seat, moving slightly to make it easier to stand up if it was needed. “Clint isn’t cleared for multiple visitors yet.” 

“I’m his commanding officer. I get to visit when I want.” Steve leveled Bucky with a glare, crossing his arms over his chest. “What the fuck were you doing when Tony got hit with an EMP?” 

That made more sense. Clint glanced at Bucky and saw him roll his eyes. At least they were on the same page. Tony was injured and Steve was being a dick about it. Clint wondered if he’d yelled at everyone else, or if he was special. “Bleeding out in the snow.” He offered. 

Tony had been fine when Clint had been taken by surprise. He hadn’t even been aware Tony had also been injured in the fight. There were four other people on the team, he wasn’t sure why it was his fault Tony had been injured. It wasn’t as though he had some sort of anti-EMP arrow.

He was going to make one.

As soon as he got off the morphine. 

Steve frowned, making sure the world knew he was disappointed in Clint. “You let someone get the drop on you, so you weren’t on our six.”

“You’re getting on to him for being deaf?” Bucky stood up and put himself directly between Clint and Steve. 

“If his disability is going to put the rest of us at risk then he shouldn’t be in the field.” Steve countered, making a valid point Clint thought. He wasn’t going to give Steve the pleasure of knowing he made good arguments. The man hadn’t snuck up on Clint because of Clint’s hearing though. The asshole had fallen from the sky, and Clint couldn’t do shit about that. 

“Like the time Tony froze up because of his PTSD and I got taken back by Hydra?” Bucky shot back, leaning back against Clint’s medical bed. “Or the time I got activated and shot you and Thor?” 

Clint wanted to pat Bucky on the back, but his body hurt so he stayed still. He turned his focus to Steve to see what he reaction would be to Bucky’s words. They didn’t talk about Tony’s problems as a principal, and Steve liked to pretend Hydra wasn’t still floating around in Bucky’s brain. Steve’s greatest skill was staying in denial against all evidence, Bucky had told him. That seemed in line with everything Clint knew about the man. 

Steve had the decency to look abashed for a second, but then decided he would double down. “Tony broke a leg because no one was watching our backs.”  

Bucky inhaled deeply. “I suppose this is payback for the time I blamed you for getting Clint shot?” 

“That is hardly the same thing, Bucky,” Steve shot back, “you’ve always been an idiot about your boyfriends. I’m pissed because a member of our team got hurt because Clint wasn’t there.” 

Bucky scoffed and Clint saw him flip Steve off. “Alright, Fondue.” 

Steve narrowed his eyes at that – Clint made a mental note to ask Bucky what Fondue meant, other than cheesy goodness. “How did you even hear about that?” Something that embarrassed Cap. Clint definitely needed to know about it. 

“Howard told me.” Bucky’s tone indicated that Steve should have been able to guess where he’d gotten the intel. 

“You weren’t even close with Howard, Buck.” 

Bucky opened his mouth but closed it without saying anything. Apparently, Steve had said something he couldn’t comprehend. Clint didn’t think he’d ever seen that before. Bucky usually had something witty to respond with when Steve was being Steve. 

Steve shrugged and leaned against the door, locked into whatever 1940s bullshit argument had commenced. “Howard only liked Peggy really.” 

“One, Stark the first was almost as weirdly obsessed with you as Baby Stark,” Bucky started, shaking his head when Steve tried to respond to that mess of a sentence,  “and two, I was sleeping with Howard.” 

Ew. Was Clint’s first reaction, but thankfully he kept it internal. Steve, however, didn’t seem to be having the same level of success. His face had gone slightly ashy and his jaw had dropped. That was Tony’s dad though. Ew. 

“So yeah, I get the appeal of a Stark. I was just smart enough to bag one, unlike other people in this room.” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest. Clint wasn’t certain if Bucky was telling the truth or if he was just trying to rile Steve up to win the bet. Appealing to Steve’s competitive side was a good method, Clint though. 

If Bucky could get with a Stark then Steve could do it too. And Tony was conveniently there. 

Steve furrowed his brow and turned on his heel to leave the room without another work.

“Fuck, he’s dumb. I think the ice turned him stupid.” Bucky turned around and dropped back into his chair. His locked eyes with Clint and smiled at him. “He never had any game though.” 

Clint snorted. “Howard though?” 

Bucky shrugged one shoulder, “it was war. He was hot.” 

Clint got the feeling there was more to it than that, but he wasn’t going to press. They had more important things to focus on anyway. Like getting the living Stark together with Steve. “Put me in a wheelchair, Buck. We’re going to go see Tony.” 

Bucky got up so he could grab the wheelchair. They had specifically been told it was only to help Clint get to the loo, but he was an adult. He could make his own decisions. And his decisions included going to check on Tony. 

He eased himself out of bed, groaning when it pulled at the stitches. Doctor Cho had taken her flesh creating device with her and now he had to heal the normal way. Like a boring human. He eased himself down into the wheelchair and let Bucky turn it around. 

Bucky wheeled him out of the room, turning down the hallway. No one was going to stop the Winter Soldier from going where he wanted, even if he had an injured patient with him. It was a great benefit of dating Bucky. He got away with twice as much as he had before he’d gotten himself a super assassin. 

“I’m starting to worry they’re too stupid to ever figure it out on their own.” Clint said, waving at a nurse. She took one look at Bucky’s arm and then didn’t bother to say anything to them. 

They turned down the hallway Tony usually visited when he was injured, “I think we’re going to have to do it for them.”

“The smartest man in America and the world’s greatest military mind and they can’t figure out they want to bone. Sad.” 

“Very.”

They went quiet once they saw Tony’s open door. It wasn’t fair if they gave Tony too many hints. (Clint really needed Tony to win, he didn’t know what he’d eat if he couldn’t have pizza.) 

Bucky turned the chair into Tony’s room. Other than a cast on his leg he looked fine. His face wasn’t even bruised. He must not have fallen too far. That seemed like a tactical error, Clint thought. “Heard you broke your leg.” Clint said when Tony didn’t react to their entry. 

Tony turned to look at them, “Heard you got stabbed. And fell out of a tree onto the only rock in the entire country.” He smirked, his eyes moving over the wheelchair. Apparently, he didn’t blame Clint for the injury. Which only meant Steve was dumber than he’d thought. 

“Hydra got some magic wizard rings like your wizard friend with the cheekbones. We should probably address that.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “of course they’ve got magic rings now. That’s just what they need. Did you tell Cap?” 

Clint snorted and leaned back in his wheelchair. It was nice not having to walk. “He’s too busy being a baby about you getting a booboo.” 

“I told him I was fine.”

“Have you considered reiterating the point?” Bucky asked and sat down in one of the visitor chairs. “He’s got a thick skull.” 

“He’s very dramatic when you get injured.” Clint offered and got smacked on the arm for it. Worth it, he thought. It was just one hint, and for all he knew Bucky was cheating in all the private time he and Steve had reminiscing about the bad old days of racial hatred and shit.