Winterhawk Requests

by MiharuNakamura

Chapter 1

Hey everyone! I'm looking to do something new for a while. Get the creativity flowing again. Please leave a comment with a winterhawk request if you're interested. If I like it, I'll turn it into a one shot and stick it on here for everyone to enjoy.

I feel like we need more of these two. They have so much potential. Way too many stucky fics out there and not enough winterhawk.

Chapter 2: Citrus Love

Notes:

Here ya go WarriorCheese_09
Lil spicy.

“Seriously, I know what I’m talking about Mr. Hawkeye sir.”

This kid. He’s lucky he’s got that charming puppy look about him. And Tony being his scary foster dad certainly helps.

A sigh of defeat rushes from my lips at his continued exuberant explanation of whatever this orange thing is. I roll my head back, staring at the ceiling, questioning how I got to this point in my life. Am I seriously about to indulge a teenager by testing dating advice that’s totally bogus?

“And I hear things you know? There’s rumors that –”

“Alright, I got it.”

Apparently, I am.

“I will try your orange thing,” I add. “But! I demand you go bother Tony in payment. Give his bots the fire extinguisher. They’re bored.”

His pupils must’ve doubled in size. Man, this guy really is a puppy, isn’t he?

“I don’t want them to be bored! They deserve to have fun too. They have feelings!”

“Yep. Exactly. So go fix it.” I gave him a little push toward the elevator. “Catch you later. Maybe next week.”

He took off at a sprint for the opening doors. Bucky stepped around his zooming form with nothing more than a raised brow.

“What was that about?” he asked, making his way into the kitchen.

“Teenager stuff.”

Ah wait. Teenager stuff. Right. Orange love logic or whatever.

“Hey.”

Bucky looked over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

Here goes nothing, I guess.

“Peel me an orange?”

He chuckled. “Kitchen too far away for you?”

I tipped myself over the back of the catch with a little groan. Made a show of squirming, pretending to fail at lifting myself back up. Reached out in his general direction with grabby hands for the fruit he was sorting through. It got the full-bodied laugh I was looking for.

“It’s these old bones. I’m helpless,” I explained.

Even upside down his smile was adorable. This one always showed off the dimple in his cheek.

“May I remind you that I’m the oldest here?” he snarked.

He came around the bar and leaned back comfortably. The peel was slowing getting longer as he moved his thumb along the side of the orange. It was impressive actually.

I tilted my head, trying to get a better angle, as the blood rushed to my head. “How’re you doing that?”

He actually smirked, the smug jerk. “What, this? Just takes skill.”

It took a second to get the momentum, but I managed to swing my legs forward to tip me right side up. And right over the edge of the couch.

“Man, you really are losing your touch today,” Bucky muttered. “Am I gonna have to carry you to bed later after that fall? You must be stuck again. Poor thing.”

I rolled my eyes. Took the orange he offered and bit into it like an apple.

“It’s an orange,” he stressed. “I could have gotten you an apple.”

Sticky juice rolled down my wrist into the crease of my elbow as I took another obnoxious bite. He looked downright offended at the mess.

“Damn it, Clint. What’s gotten into you today?”

I shrugged.

“Now you’re all sticky. I didn’t sign up to be a babysitter,” he grumbled.

An idea suddenly struck me. I snagged the sleeve of his jacket before he could wander back into the kitchen on a hunt for paper towels.

He was less than happy with the interruption.

“Clean me up?” I asked, all innocence and wide eyes.

That cute scrunch between his brows smoothed out in record time as the suggestion clicked into meaning for him. I raised my sticky arm in invitation, a slight grin hiking my lips higher as he took the bait.

He grumbled insults as he lifted my “heavy, irritating self” up off the floor. I tuned them out for the white noise they were. Got myself comfortable as he settled me in his lap on the couch.

“Dopey blond,” he said between one kiss to the next up my arm. “Coulda just said you wanted some love ya know.”

I cuddled him close with my free arm, knocking our heads together in a nuzzle. “And miss this? I love it when you get all flustered.”

He licked a stripe from the bottom of my palm up the tips of my fingers. Scarped his teeth along the soft skin of my wrist in retaliation. The kiss he placed there soothed the itchy feeling.

“Got any other requests?”

He tilted his head to give me more room as my kisses trailed down his jaw. Shivered adorably when I raked my fingers through his hair.

“Carry me to bed?” I asked.

“Mm. Well that’s a given at this point,” he answered, dipping to pepper open mouthed kisses along my collarbones.

Requests… Do I have anything I want right now? I mean, what could top –

Oh.

My eyes fluttered shut on their own. My fingers fisted in the shoulder of his jacket at the next sensation. I sucked my bottom lip under my teeth trying to stifle the moan that, inevitably, I couldn’t hold back. Never could honestly. It was a pointless effort.

“Mmm.”

“Yeah?” He nuzzled my cheek. “That?”

“Mm… Ah!”

“Easy beautiful,” he teased softly. “I got ya. Just relax.”

Damn him…

Wait a minute. I’m the one that told him.

Damn it me. How could you betray me common sense?

“Shoulda… never told you.”

He laughed softly against my ear. Shifted his hand to trace up my stomach lightly, just this side of ticklish.

“Never told me what?” His fingers lightly circled back. “That you like it soft and slow?”

Another kiss, this one more bruising than the last few, met the juncture of my shoulder. He sucked a mark into it, soothing it with his tongue, and gave me a smile. Then his hand was paving a path back up my body, resting lightly against my chest, just the edges of his fingers grazing the marks painting my right collarbone.

“Or maybe… that you like pet names? You love that don’t you, doll? Oh honey, don’t hide.”

Despite my stubborn resolve to ignore him… my body was too relaxed to fight it when he tilted my chin up. The kiss he placed on my forehead was nice. Guess it wasn’t all bad.

“There’s my handsome fella.”

I slumped further against him. Snuggled back into his neck soon as his fingers left my chin.

“Leave me lone,” I mumbled.

“What’s this?” He started to rub my back just the way I liked. “Are you really mad?”

His little flinch when I nipped his neck was worth the shout in my ear.

“Carry me to bed already,” I complained. “You promised.”

Chapter 3: Nesting Troubles

Notes:

Wasn't a request. I just had a thought and decided to run with it. I'll probably add more to this. Tell me what you think?

This is – This is just sad. This looks terrible. I am terrible at this.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Aren’t I supposed to be, like, a natural at this? This is an omega thing. Omegas nest. I have a blanket and pillows. What am I missing here?

“Oh... Building a fort?”

I rolled my eyes. Turned away the pathetic thing on the floor to address Buck who, for the millionth time, hadn’t knocked on my bedroom door before entering.

“I'm trying to… do what I’m supposed to?” I said with a shrug.

“Supposed to?” He rose one brow in that irritating way of his. “If it’s doing the laundry, you don’t gotta add your pillows to the pile.”

“No, that's not –”

A tired groan clawed its way out of my throat. I pressed my thumbs into my temples, trying to settle the ache before it got worse.

“Hey?”

He tilted his head to catch my eye. All the smug amusement was gone and replaced with soft concern.

“I didn’t realize, okay? It took a second for me to put two and two together,” he admitted softly.

His hand was warm against my cheek. Comforting. I leaned into it gratefully.

“I suck at this.”

The corner of his lips quirked into a little half smile. “You’ve never done it before. That’s all.”

Easy for you to say. You’re not the omega here. You don’t come preset with the instincts for this. I’m supposed to be good at this.

“You’re thinking too hard.” That smile ticked up a little further. “You always get this adorable little frown when you do.”

I stepped out of reach at the tease. Batted his reaching hands away. He held them up in surrender.

Good. He better back off.

“What is it sweetheart? Is it your nest? It’s not so bad.”

I scoffed. He frowned. Had the gall to try and pull me into a hug.

“Don’t! Alright? I’m supposed to be good at this!”

His expression twisted. I looked away to avoid seeing whatever emotion he’d settle on, pity or sympathy, and ended up staring at the half crumpled blanket with its two pillows again. It looked the same as a couple minutes ago. Wasn’t magically better, inviting and cozy looking like it should have been. I was really hoping it might be…

“What do you need me to do?” Bucky asked. Like he could help. Like he wanted to.

What have I got to lose? I’m gonna go into heat soon and this setup sucks. Anything has gotta be better than this.

“Got any idea how to build a nest that isn’t total garbage?” I asked, resigned to hear the inevitable no.

Typical alpha. As if he’d –

No. That’s not right… I shouldn’t trash talk him. He’s just trying to help. He’s putting up with my mood swings. Just take it with a smile and go back to Utube when he leaves.

“Well… actually, yeah. But I didn’t wanna say anything in case you wanna fly solo on this. I’d understand if you did.”

What?

My gaze snapped back to his in disbelief.

He looked sheepish. A little smaller than before as the nerves got to him.

“It wasn’t common back then, but my family wasn’t about being conventional when it came to me and Becca’s upbringing. Said being an alpha didn’t excuse me from learning all the important stuff my sister was learning.”

That’s… pretty great actually.

“Wish there were more alphas being taught like that. Hell, even teaching the betas would help change the stereotypes I bet.”

He cracked a grin. “Yeah, it certainly helped back during my dancing days. Never met an omega who didn’t love it. Made me kind of a bad boy for knowing all the best nesting brands,” he laughed.

“Damn. The bad boy? Just cause you knew where to get a soft blanket?”

Well then. Who would have thought?

“Hey, you’re laughing, but I was popular for that. Kept one in the family car whenever I borrowed it just in case.”

It took a minute to get my laughter under control. The sting of tears was for a better reason this time. My cheeks ached a little from smiling so hard. It felt so good.

“I needed that.”

Whatever he needed to see he found. He nodded in satisfaction.

“Glad to help.”

I got in another couple snickers at the mental image of bad boy Bucky Barnes with his fancy blankets. Couldn’t help myself.

“Alright Barnes,” I said when I could breathe. “How do I fix this?”

He looked to my right, accessing the garbage nest like it was a mission.

“Do you want it on the floor?”

I shrugged.

“Then why is it there?”

…

“Internet?” I answered carefully, trying for an innocent smile.

His exasperated sigh was loud. Like, super loud.

He muttered, “Stupid internet,” and strode forward, hauling my stuff up into his arms. “Where do you actually want this?”

That is a good question.

“Is it not supposed to be on the floor?”

He looked insulted by the fact that I’d asked.

“I don’t know what the hell you’ve been reading, Clint, but no. It’s not supposed to go on the floor unless you want it there.”

Oh.

Yeah, that… That makes more sense. The floor is uncomfortable after all. I wasn’t looking forward to the backache…

“Clint?”

His tone pulled my attention back to the moment. It took a second for my eyes to refocus.

“Where do you want to set up sweetheart?”

The question pulled uncomfortably at something in my chest. Sat there like a cold, lead weight as I glanced around my cluttered room. The bed seemed like the obvious choice. It was my bed. That didn’t feel right though and the more I looked around, the more fidgety and anxious I felt.

All of a sudden my throat was closing, claustrophobia gripping me like a vice. The space was all wrong. Too small. Too… I don’t fucking know! It just felt wrong, and I couldn’t breathe!

Hazelnut and coffee invaded the overwhelming sense of panic squeezing me for all I was worth. Soothed right over it like a balm to my fraying nerves. Then I felt the hands keeping me steady, the metal fingers carding through my messy hair.

Breathing came a little easier as the static in my brain cleared. I could hear Bucky talking me down from the edge. Started to comprehend the words more clearly. That’s when the sensation of trembling registered. The hot traces of tears on my face. The way my hands were fisted in his hoodie.

“There we go, baby. Just breathe.”

Just breathe… I can… I can do that.

“What the hell just happened?” I asked, hating the shakiness in my voice the moment the words left my lips.

He pet my head some more. Tightened his grip around my waist momentarily before letting me go.

“It happens sometimes.” He looked me over thoroughly before continuing with, “I don’t think this room is what you need right now.”

I glanced at my bow in the corner. My pile of comics. The pajama bottoms I’d left on my bed. That sense of wrong,wrong,wrong started up again, clawing at me until I locked my gaze back onto Bucky.

Yeah. Fuck this.

Chapter 4: Nesting Troubles Pt2

Alright this – This doesn’t seem right either. This is just stupid. Why did I think the couch in the living room would be better?

“How about… instead of finding the space, you focus on finding your materials?” Bucky suggested.

What a stupid suggestion.

I held up my purple comforter and pillows pointedly. Challenged the dumb suggestion further by raising a brow in that same way he does just to irritate him.

He just laughed though. Aggravating bastard…

“Yes, baby, I know. You can have more than that though.”

I can?

I held them closer to get a whiff of tangy strawberry off the blanket. Tested the squishy lumpiness of the pillows with a gentle squeeze.

I know what these feel like. They’re mine. They smell like me. This was supposed to be…

“The internet said this was enough though?” I said, the end becoming a question the more I stared at them.

“Clint.”

Reluctantly, I raised my head. Felt something strange and shameful at the way he was looking at me. Like I was someone who… I don’t know, but I hated feeling pathetic and he was making it worse.

“What?”

His expression flattened. “I know you’re feeling out of sorts, but you don’t gotta snap at me.”

Damn it. Why did I do that? I thought I agreed I’d let him help. Why am I so irritable?

“Sorry…”

“It’s alright. I know how moody you get before a heat. Just try not to bite my head off, okay?”

Damn him for being so understanding. I wish he’d just yell at me already. I deserve it. I was –

“Focus, honey. You with me?”

I pulled in a breath. Held it long enough to feel the fuzzies start to sink in. That always worked to shut my head up.

“You have got to stop doing that,” he scolded as he steadied me from swaying.

“Works though.”

“Mm.” He flicked my shoulder. “Wonder why.”

“Ow! Jerk.”

“Can I finish now?”

My feet got tangled in the blanket all of a sudden. Bucky shot forward to cushion the back of my head as I slammed back into the couch at a weird angle. My pillows were scattered on the floor, the blanket half on and off as I rubbed an aching elbow. He held me down by my shoulder when I tried to rise.

“Just be still a second.”

“I was being still!”

“Evidently not,” he snarked.

The weight of his gaze was heavy with judginess. I tugged the blanket higher and got sort of comfortable out of spite.

“Get on with it.”

He pulled a lock of my hair in retaliation. It only stung a little though, so he wasn’t that mad at least.

“No omega I know keeps a sparse nest. If this is all it took to make you happy, I’d say go for it. It obviously doesn’t though.”

Jealousy flared hot as I crossed my arms, glaring at my so-called boyfriend.

“How many lovers you got?” I accused. “Am I the main event or the side piece because so help me –”

The sweetness of cocoa chap stick registered first. Then the comforting, familiar feeling of his hands as they cradled my head, tilting it just so to slot our lips together better. When he pulled back a fraction, he kissed my nose. I huffed to catch my breath. His grin made my head swim in a fantastic way.

“All yours, doll. You know that.”

The admission was soft spoken. A sweet whisper between one kiss and the next.

“Go find some more stuff for your nest,” he said after a lingering kiss to my cheek. “There’s no limits because it’s yours.”
Mine.

The simple statement had me smiling, dopey from a sweet surge of hazelnut, coffee, and kisses. I pulled him in, nuzzling as close as I could to soak more of it up. It was so, so nice. And so was the warm tone of his chuckles as I snuggled into his throat.

“Time to get up.”

“Noo… Don’t wanna,” I groaned, trying, and failing, to keep him in place.

“You wanted a nest, Clint. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you give up on that?”

“A nice one,” I muttered.

His laughter only soothed my bad mood a little. It didn’t help at all with the ache in my lower back when I managed to get myself upright. Or keep the blanket from getting tangled around my feet again when I stood.

Chapter 5: Nesting Troubles Pt3

Notes:

Bucky pov
Okay, I'm done. Seriously. I just really liked the idea of snuggly heats.

He’s always so moody right before a heat, the jerk. This has more to do with the nest though. He’s all jitters right now, the poor fella. Wish I’d been there years ago when someone was supposed to be teaching him this stuff. Or been there when he first started dating. It’s obvious his previous partners never treated him right if he’s this nervous about trying to do something comforting for himself. If I’d been there –

The smell of strawberry soda filled the air like a tidal wave. I couldn’t help breathing it in deeply, setting aside the book I’d been staring at to see Clint ducked in my doorway.

Looks like we’re out of the moody phase.

“Hey. You find some good stuff?” I asked, pushing up on my elbows to get a look at the mountain in his arms.

He made a little noise in agreement.

“You want some help or –” He pushed the door enough that it swung the rest of the way open thumping against the wall. “Oh. Okay then.”

He shuffled toward my bed, bits and pieces dropping from the pile he was carrying. Didn’t seem to bother him if the dopey little smile was anything to go by.

“Aww. Come to show me your goodies?”

His scent got downright syrupy sweet. He leaned forward, looking for a kiss, and the mini mountain dumped across my lap. Laughter burst from my throat.

“Think you dropped –”

I tilted my head for a better angle to the sudden, needy kiss. Soaked in the sweet little happy sounds. Nuzzled into his hair when he broke for air.

“I’d say you’re definitely in heat now, darling. Have you picked a place to set up your nest yet?” I softly asked.

His smile was all soft edges.

I should probably get up and help carry some of this. Soon he’ll just be clinging to my side. Gotta get him settled before then.

“Don’t worry, Clint. I’ve got the pieces that fell,” I reassured when he whined at me.

Let’s see... Fuzzy sweater. Dog socks... Hey, this is my favorite hoodie! Aww. That certainly makes a fella feel special.

“Hey, Clint.” I turned, holding up the hoodie, ready to tease. “Wanted some coffee in –”

My brain short-circuited. How could it not when – when he was –

“Clint?” Why is my throat scratchy all of sudden? “Whatcha doing?”

And why do you gotta look so adorable while you do it?

He pulled my pillow a little closer to a throw blanket covered in cartoon golden retrievers up at the head of the bed. His comforter was folded back, ready to snuggle under. A few of his softer tshirts were scattered over it. His favorite fluffy towel was scrunched to one side within easy reach of his pillows. A hoodie that was faded with love was carefully set to one corner by the footboard.

He flopped back, snuggling into his collection with a sunny grin. Then he tilted his head and caught my eye.

Damn.

I clutched my chest.

Did my heart just skip a beat? I didn’t know that was possible.

The stretch of his arms snapped me back to attention. Curling fingers beckoned me closer as he nuzzled his cheek into my pillow like a cat. I kneeled beside the bed, starstruck as he snatched clothing from my hands to hurriedly arrange around the bed. The feeling only amplified when he hauled me up onto the bed, tucking us in with his comforter.

“You uh...” I paused as he cuddled close. “My bed huh?”

“Mhm,” he hummed.

I set a hand around his shoulders. Breathed in our mingling scents.

“I could leave when you get tired,” I suggested quietly.

His arms tightened around me. “Nuh-uh!”

He relaxed after a moment as I chuckled. Leaned into my hand as I stroked his hair.

“I never expected this. You... You’re sure?”

He half nodded, half nuzzled into my throat. Kissed the underside of my jaw.

“God, I love when you get like this. All strawberry soda sweetness and snuggles.”

As if to reinforce the thought, he sprawled over top of me with a sappy little grin, pulling my hoodie over so it could cushion my head.

“Stay?”

I pushed up to get another kiss. “Course. All yours.”

Chapter 6: Mission Glitch

Gunfire? That room was supposed to be empty.

“What’s your stat-us?” crackles in through the comm.

“Target dispatched.”

“Good. Return for debriefing.”

There’s the telltale buzz as the communication link is shut off. Heavy barrages continue in the next room. I could climb out the window, but… my handlers would be furious if I returned with a broken limb from the drop. The next exit is down the hall past that room.

Do I risk witnesses or a broken limb?

“Damn it!”

The gunfire ceases for all of a second before the wall to my left bursts. A set of filing cabinets shields me from sight and debris. From the shadowed corner, I count five aggressors, one of which is… crawling to get behind the desk. He takes a hit to the shoulder during his efforts but doesn’t slow.

“Come out! You’re fucked!”

Strange choice of words.

“You’ll have to drag me out!” the man behind the desk shouts. He shoots twice and collapses back for cover against return fire. “Only way you’re getting me!”

The light of the lamp catches his hair as he rises up to fire again. The golden hue of it makes pain spark behind my eyes. Blurry images flash in my mind. There’s someone else with golden hair. Skinny. Reckless. No sense of self-preservation. Fighting and fighting despite his lack of strength and worsening injuries.

Is he someone I dispatched for my handlers?

…

No. Couldn’t be.

“Shit. No. No, please – C’mon. C’mon!”

The air is still beyond his whispered pleas. Tense and anticipatory.

The others begin peering into the room. Jeering and taunting.

His weapon is jammed.

They know this.

“If you come out, we’ll make it quick Hawkeye.”

The blond, Hawkeye, thumps his head back against the desk with a strained hiss. Cocks his head just so, grimacing in pain, and catches my eye.

I remember now…

I was supposed to protect reckless blonds like this.

“I bet you’re getting awfully tired, aren’t ya? Just give up!”

There’s a round of menacing laughter. And then a hush falls over the room when I step from behind the cabinets. The blond sucks in a sharp breath.

They go down quickly and quietly. No challenge. All threats eliminated.

That done, I turn to my new mission objective. He is attempting to stand. A poor decision considering his leg injury.

“Stay back!”

Inability to put weight on the right leg. An ankle fracture? Possible. It’s unlikely that the injury is more serious considering his upright state.

“I mean it! I didn’t make it out of a twenty guy gunfight just to be murdered by the winter soldier!”

Twenty? Not bad. Perhaps if his weapon had been better these aggressors would have been taken out sooner.

He thrusts the weapon out, an attempt to land a hit on my face despite my non-threatening stance. Does not cower when I disarm him.

Interesting.

“Be still.”

Widened pupils. Accelerating heartbeat and breath. Tightening of the muscles. Slight shift of the left foot.

He intends to try and bolt. Unacceptable.

“Be still,” I repeat sternly. “Sit.”

There’s a jolt under my hands as I grasp his shoulders. The sudden compliance is… strange considering his previous aggression but not unwelcome. It is not until we are seated, my frame bent forward to assess what I can of his shoulder wound, that I understand why he became so loose and obedient.

His hand had twitched. A reaction to the pain, I had assumed. Assumption leads to mistakes though. I should have known better than to assume.

He lunged forward for my knife successfully pulling it from its sheath at my hip. Any attempt to use it was immediately stopped, however, as I gripped his wrist and injured shoulder, squeezing until he dropped the blade from agony.

“I told you to be still.”

Panting breaths. Head tilted back. Eyes glazed, shimmery from pain.

He will be more compliant now.

The front of his shoulder showed no sign of an exit wound. The bullet would have to be removed before the ankle could be tended properly. There are no supplies in this room but…

One hall over, four doors down on the right. There will be supplies there.

“Hey…”

Exhaustion. Pain… Resignation?

“Jus’ make it quick. Kay?”

…

He assumes I will end his life. Assumption leads to mistakes.

Chapter 7: Mission Glitch Pt2

“Don’t! I need these!”

I can’t deal with the near silence right now. I’d be too vulnerable. I’m already vulnerable. He dug a bullet out of my shoulder while I was unconscious. We’ve changed locations. There’s no telling where he –

“No communication devices.”

“They aren’t!” I tried, uselessly, to wriggle my arms free from their restraints again. “Swear! They’re hearing aids!”

The bastard paused. There was a flicker of curiosity.

Good. Curiosity is good. I can use that.

“Never seen em before?” I asked, trying for a decent smile. “C’mere. Get a good look at them.”

C’mon. Just a little closer. Lean over. You know you want to.

Wait. Where are you –

A shock of pain tore through me. Nearly bit my tongue trying to stifle the scream I almost let out.

“What the hell was that for?”

He shifted my leg again. Poked and prodded until the pain had me gritting my teeth.

“Fracture.”

“Yeah, no kidding! Stop poking it!” I snapped.

He nodded. Took a step back and wasn’t that just the damnedest thing.

Alright, Clint, think. Think! How are you gonna get out of this?

He’s smart. Strapped down my forearms instead of just my wrists. No way to slip free like I usually do. Not to mention whatever anesthetic he slipped me is wearing off. I move too much and he’ll notice. I could be sent back to dreamland in a heartbeat. And –

Aw, damn it. Shouldn’t have yelled. Yelling means I have energy. Damn it!

“Be still.”

“Yeah, no, I got that. No whatever the hell is in the syringe please.”

Another flicker, this time confusion. Confused about what? That I’m not some happy captive?

“For the pain?”

...Did he seriously just ask that?

“What do you care if I’m in pain?” I seethed, shuttering from the pounding ache in my shoulder. “Kill me already, damn it!”

The bastard took a deep, measured breath. Slowly set down the syringe.

Fuck that’s not a good look. Not a good look at all. That’s cold. Cold and angry. Very angry. And he’s… walking away?

Wait. He’s leaving. He’s – I’m still tied down and he’s leaving. I’ve pissed him off and now I’m gonna lay here and thirst to death. Damn it! Me and my big mouth!

“Wait!”

...Too late.

Great job, Barton. Fantastic. Instead of killing you quickly, he’s gonna let you die slowly. Great job.

Chapter 8: Mission Glitch Pt3

Threats to the mission objective have been taken care of. Supplies have been secured. Such tasks have taken too long however. My handlers almost succeeded in making me sway from the current mission. They kept me away too long.

“I mus be losing it. Look at that.”

The words are muttered, bitter in tone.

“You – You can’t be here. You’s left me to die remember? I’m hallucinating…”

I stepped closer, setting the supplies on the floor for later use. Prepared to assess the damage of what my foolish handlers caused by keeping me absent from my mission.

Hawkeye glared at my approach, but his gaze was unfocused and his heartbeat had been in an accelerated state since before I entered the room. His struggles to free himself only caused fresh bleeding around his restraints. In moments his energy was depleted, head tilting back to lick at chapped lips and stare at the ceiling.

“Better not be talking,” he murmured. “My aids died ages ago.”

Of course...

I foresaw this complication, but I expected the aids to have a longer battery life. I am glad I found the correct charger. Perhaps this offering will dissuade him from his previous assumptions.

There was no resistance to my hands as I turned his head. His gaze remained unfocused, glazed with pain and exhaustion, as I presented the peace offering. He only moved to stare back up at the ceiling which was… unexpected.

Time seemed to further slow from that point on. He didn’t react to my hands removing his aids nor my removal of his soiled clothes. Hawkeye was quite like the dolls I had witnessed while scouting for supplies, sitting or laying down as I placed him, quiet and complacent during a sponge bath and redressing. Even my efforts to dress his wounds didn’t get a response. I might have mistaken him as unconscious if not for his open eyes, every now and then tracking my movements.

Water, strangely enough, proved a powerful trigger. He snatched the bottle from my hand after a mere sip. The display of energy was a welcome sight.

“What the hell are you playing at?” he snapped, volume close to a shout.

Good. Only a hint of slurring to his words. Improvement.

“You tryin to play hero? Leave me to die then come clean me up so I’ll be grateful? Is that it?”

I am a solid presence then, no longer perceived as a hallucination. Another improvement.

The explanation I hand over is briefly read. The notebook is thrown behind his shoulder with a sneer.

He does not believe me. Would rather remain furious with me. That is acceptable for now. His anger is giving him much needed energy.

The little light on the charger flashes green at last. Hawkeye does not take his aids from my hands when I offer them back. For some reason, despite his earlier desperation, pulls away from them.

“You did something to them.”

Yes, I charged them. I cannot say that though, so instead I nod.

“I don’t want em!” he shouted, leaning further back. “I don’t want whatever programming you added to them playing in my ears.”

More assumptions. Assumption leads to mistakes. Have I not proven that my intentions are not violent? What have I done to warrant such mistrust? If he will not take them because of misguided assumptions, then I will have to fit them back over his ears myself.

“Hey... Hey, no! Stay away from me, damn it!”

The texture of his hair catches my attention for a moment. There’s no time to contemplate it when he attempts to wrench away from my hold. I have no choice but to inflict pain, a bruising grip to his shoulder wound until his stills, to ensure compliance. From there, it is easy to place the aids.

When I have put distance between us, he immediately touches them, adjusting them and tilting his head this way and that way. Relief is quickly hidden away back behind anger.

Still… he is satisfied. That is good.

Chapter 9: Where Are We?

This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. None of this is happening. I’m not here. I don’t want to be here. Here is not okay. Here is not safe. I’m not here. I’m not here!

“Bucky, breathe! It’s okay. It’s okay, just breathe.”

He’s crowding me again. He won’t – I can’t – I can’t breathe!

“Steve? What the hell is –”

“He’s having a panic attack. I – I don’t know what set him off. We were just – And then this!”

Go away. Go away. Go away. I’m not here. I’m not here. I’m not here. This isn’t real. Can’t be real.

“Give him some space! He’s rocking himself for god’s sake!”

Loud. Angry. Scary. Go away. Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me. Go away. I just want everyone to go away. Please, please, please go away.

The big blond steps away. His shadow isn’t looming over me anymore. He isn’t crowding me anymore. Isn’t trying to make me speak anymore.

That’s good. Very good.

…

Oh no. No, no, no.

I scramble back from the tall blond. Feel every vibration as my back thumps against the wall. Duck my head to protect my face. Brace for the blow.

…
…
…

No… pain?

“Hey.”

He… He isn’t crowding me. He isn’t coming over anymore. He’s sitting, over there, plenty of space. Plenty of space.

“We’re good. Just gonna chill,” he says.

He isn’t coming over. Won’t come over. Isn’t angry.

A flash of a smile. The smell of pizza. Some kind of game with cards. The feeling of falling asleep against a warm body.

The flashes of memories bring a sense of calm. Safety. Peace.

The shivers start to settle. My hand feels less and less numb. Breaths come smooth and slow.

“There we go. Good job.”

Good job. I did – I did a good job. I didn’t even have to do anything. No one made me do anything. I just sat. I sat here and he sat over there and I did a good job. I – I did good. He said I did good.

“Nice.”

What a nice smile. He has such a nice smile.

Oh, oh the head tilt. Why does that look familiar? Who saw him tilt his head like that?

“There we go. Now, what happened? Do you want to talk about it?”

A choice. He’s giving me a choice. The big blond didn’t give me a choice. Just kept asking and crowding and asking. Wouldn’t go away. Wouldn’t leave me alone. But now I have a choice. Maybe – Maybe he’s safe. Someone thinks he’s safe. He must be safe.

“It’s not mine.”

The smile drops a little. “What isn’t?”

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You can do this.

“This.” I chance a glance at the foreign object attached to my shoulder. “I can’t – I can’t –”

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Don’t look at it. Don’t look at it. Just tell him. Maybe – Maybe he will help you.

“Do you know how to get it off?”

There. There, I asked. I asked. I did it.

“The prosthetic arm?”

It has a name!

“Yes! That! Can you get it off?”

Please help me. Please get it off. I want it off. I need it off.

“Bucky, wha… I don’t understand. You’ve never taken it off before.”

Oh no. The big blond is – He’s going to crowd me again. He’s going to –

“Course I can help you get it off,” the tall blond says. “Steve. Why don’t you go upstairs and start making lunch?”

He’s looking at me with a… Why is he looking at me like that? Why is he sad?

Oh, he’s leaving? Just like that? Really?

“Can I come over? Or do you still need space for a while?”

The tall blond must have authority. That’s why the other left. This one is nice. This one gives me choices.

The question is hard to ask. “Please?”

He nods. The nice smile is back. It’s calming.

Chapter 10: Where Are We? Pt2

It’s gone. He really – He took it off just like he said. It’s gone!

“I’m Clint by the way.”

Clint. The tall blond is Clint.

The smile is sudden. Unexpected. It aches a little.

He likes the smile though. Even smiles back! He’s so nice.

“I’m sorry he crowded you like that earlier. He’s a big mother hen. Don’t let him tell you otherwise. Guy couldn’t take a vacation if he tried.”

Oh. Oh, that smile is teasing. This is – is a joke? We’re sharing a joke!

“What’s your name? If you don’t mind me asking of course.”

Another choice. I can choose to not say it. To keep it secret.

…

What was my name again?

…

I… I feel like I have one. I have one don’t I? It’s been so long since anyone asked. I haven’t… It’s been so long since I fell asleep.

“It’s… James.”

Yeah, that feels right.

He says it back, a smile curling his lips. Such a fond look. Is he fond of me? We’ve never met before though.

Phantom touches tickle my scalp. If I lean my head back, I can almost feel long fingers tangling in it.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

As if on cue, my stomach growls.

He doesn’t mock. Doesn’t ridicule me. He isn’t moving to get up so it’s unlikely he’ll beat me.

A vicious bout of nausea has me doubling over. The thought that he would – I’ve made someone angry. Someone isn’t happy that I would think – that I could even suspect that he would hurt me.

Someone must really trust Clint. We’ve never trusted anyone before. It’s never safe. No one is ever safe. This doesn’t make any sense.

“You wanna go back to your room instead? I could make you some hot tea.”

Tea? Blegh!

His snickers are quiet. “No tea, huh? Coffee then?”

No. No I don’t want coffee. Coffee is bitter and burnt and awful. I hate it. I hate the coffee that I drank before.

“I don’t know if you know this…”

The pause lingers too long. I can’t help looking up, catching his eye, waiting for whatever he wants to say to be said. It sounds important. Maybe it is.

“Coffee can practically be a dessert if you prepare it right.”

It can?

“Really?” I can barely believe it. “It – It can be sweet? Not bitter? Not – It won’t taste burnt?”

He grimaces. The reaction is bold and bright with disdain.

“God, no. No burnt coffee ever when you’re with me.”

Chapter 11: Where Are We? Pt3

“One coffee absolutely smothered in whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and sugar ready for tasting,” I said, presenting the decadent drink with a flourish.

His awestruck look, the wide eyes and slowly growing smile, were so damn adorable. Only got better after he tasted it.

“It’s so good!”

I couldn’t contain my laughter. “Damn right it is! You got a sweet tooth huh?”

He was too busy sucking the coffee down to answer though. This is the third one I’ve made. I wonder how many he’s gonna drink before we satisfy that craving of his.

“Can I try the cold kind now?” he asked excitedly, staring down at his empty mug. “The kind you said is almost like a shake.”

Ah, look at you. So adorable. Like a kid on Christmas.

“Course you can.”

The elevator dinged in the hallway. All that pretty light in his eyes vanished in an instant as the voices filtered in. All that loose relaxation transformed into rigid anxiety. A damn shame is what it is. No one should interrupt a man discovering the delights of coffee. Especially not this one.

“Can I help you?”

Cap paused a foot into my living room with a pensive look. Tony pushed right past him, bold as always, making his way straight for our little spot in the kitchen.

“A little birdy tells me the arm was bothering you. Anything you can say to elaborate on that? Was it pinching? Aching? Pulling on your shoulder? Details, details.”

Tony’s rapid fire speech had the effect I thought it might. James was pulling away in more ways than one. Hunching his shoulders, leaning away from the new presence in the room. He wouldn’t keep eye contact with either one of us. And Steve adding in his own mother hen concerns didn’t help anything either. They just made him more self-conscious, hugging himself tightly against all the prying.

“Ya mind giving it a rest?” I snapped. “Not even a hello to me. In my kitchen. As I stand here in my damn living space.”

Tony, the self-proclaimed genius he was, wisely quieted down first. Made small talk for a minute. Noticed the half pot of coffee and immediately brightened back up as he sorted through my sugary add-ins. He mocked my birthday cake creamer while reaching for the box of peppermint sticks.

Steve took longer to get the message. Oh sure, he quieted down alright, but he didn’t back off questioning James. Refused a good cup of coffee. Commented, in I’m sure what he thought was curiosity, but what probably sounded accusatory to James, about the three mugs lined up on the counter and all the sugar. That was the last straw.

James closed his eyes. Rolled his neck. Sighed.

Bucky was there when he opened his eyes. He smacked his lips with a little grimace.

“Why does my mouth taste like vanilla, chocolate, and that fancy coffee blend you break out on holidays?”

I shrugged. “He’d never had good coffee.”

“I’m sorry. Pause. He? He who is sitting here questioning his coffee tastes?” Tony cut in, stirring his drink.

“Nah, the guy who was drinking the coffee,” Bucky answered flatly. “So who was it? Who’s got the sweet tooth to match your own?”

“Buck, what are you talking about? Are you feeling alright? First your prosthetic and now this…”

Bucky looked over, understandably, in confusion. Cap’s face did like four different expressions before settling on horror.

“Is your memory slipping again? Do you remember who I am?” he asked frantically. “It’s me, Steve!”

Bucky shoved the guy out of his space with an aggravated grunt. Reached for the mug of coffee I was pouring.

“I remember you, ya punk. This ain’t that.”

“Then what is it?!”

Damn, Steve. Mother hen or dramatic damsel in distress. Pick a role.

“Could you take it down a notch? For my sanity, of which I have so little?”

Oh, nice. Used so seldom but always a ringer.

“Nicely done.” I raised my mug to clink against his. “Beautiful silence.”

Steve glared at me. As if I care he’s got his disapproving scowl on and pointed at me.

“So who was he?” Bucky asked again.

I sipped my coffee for a moment. Soaked in the peace.

“Said his name was James.”

His eyes widened. Just a second mind you. Then he hid a smile behind his mug.

“Good for him,” he whispered. “Been a hell of a long time.”

Chapter 12: Relearning Snuggles

Notes:

Wanted to try another snuggly heat idea, but this time with omega Bucky. Tell me what you think.

Wait a minute… Is that? Am I smelling chocolate right now? I don’t have any chocolate though. Not that I know of at least. Donuts maybe? Did someone bring me chocolate donuts?

Wait! No. There’s also… notes of coffee in the air… Mocha donuts!

Is that a thing? Oh my gosh, I really hope that’s a thing now. Someone brought me super awesome mocha donuts. I must find them. So long video game!

I raced into the kitchen. Checked all the cabinets. Dug through the bits and bobs all over the counter for a hidden box. Gave the fridge a thorough look through. Checked the cabinets all over again.

…No donuts. Damn. I could have sworn –

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to clean or trying to wreck the place.”

My heart raced; I jumped nearly a foot in the air. Banged my elbow on the counter and almost fell flat on my ass trying to catch myself. The bastard who caused the whole mess just laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. Make fun,” I muttered, cradling my throbbing elbow.

“Well I was gonna say something sooner, but you seemed so determined. What were you looking for?”

Oh right. What was I doing?

I was… Wait. That scent.

I couldn’t help breathing in the sugary scent deeper. Or the smile that curved my lips afterward.

“Mocha donuts.”

Bucky jolted. “What?”

“I was looking for mocha donuts. I thought…”

Wait. This is –

“There aren’t any donuts. It’s –”

“Don’t say it!”

I flinched at the feedback crackling in my left ear. He took a step back, all that aggression swapped out for overt anxiety. He hid most of it in the seconds it took me to adjust the volume of my aid.

I took a step forward. He took a matching step back.

I held my arms out for hug. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to look aggravated but coming across instead as more anxious, ducking away another step.

“It’s okay, ya know,” I said softly.

Despite the low volume, he still flinched at my words.

“What would you like to do?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Nothing.”

Well, that’s a lie.

That heavy gaze followed me as I took a seat on the couch. He didn’t creep closer till whatever baking show I’d turned on was halfway through. Ironically enough, one of them was making chocolate cake with a coffee-infused dark chocolate glaze.

“I’m betting on that guy.”

Bucky grunted in reply. Couldn’t tell if it was in agreement or not.

Every cake was impressively decorated at the end. My guy had gone with sunflowers. Simplistic compared to some of them, but sometimes simple is best. The flowers definitely stood out against that shiny glaze. Bet it tastes awesome.

“I uh…”

He hesitated. I put on the next episode like nothing had happened. Halfway into a cookie round he spoke up again.

“I don’t want this,” he whispered.

Red velvet cake cookies kept my attention as I reached out. He’d want that after all, me not making a fuss. I knew the effort was appreciated when he finally took my hand in his.

“I don’t remember what to do,” he muttered bitterly. “It’s… It’s been so long. And Stevie just made everything awkward when I tried to approach him about it this morning.”

“Mm. That’s Rogers for ya. Captain Subtle he is not.”

The jab got a low chuckle. A small victory for sure.

We watched the end of the cookie round quietly. Got almost through the pie round until I had to complain about how badly this one guy was screwing up his pie crust. I mean come on, it’s pie crust. Bucky, a man of common sense, agreed with me. And so did the judges when the round ended and it was time for tasting.

“His apple pie sucked.”

I nodded. “Without a doubt.”

“Filling wasn’t half bad though.”

“Could have been better,” I replied.

Next episode started with a bread challenge. Croissants of all things.

...Now I’m hungry. Damn it. I want buttery croissants.

“I smell weird.”

It took a second for the words to make sense. When they did, I turned in confusion.

“No you don’t.”

He ducked his head. Let go of my hand to hug himself protectively again.

“You said it yourself. I smell like coffee donuts or something. It’s weird.”

Gotta handle this delicately.

I tilted my head down until I could catch his eye. “Wanna climb on my lap?”

Aw, brain, no. Delicate. What happened to that?

“Why would I wanna do that? The hell, Clint?” he accused, stuffing himself more into the corner of the couch.

I held my hands up in surrender. “Just a suggestion. What would you rather do?”

“Why do I gotta do anything?!”

“You don’t,” I conceded. “You don’t have to. You said you don’t remember what to do though. And that Steve was making it awkward. I’m just saying, no judgment here if you wanna try something. I’m not gonna rush you or reminisce about the good old days or pressure you to handle your heat the way you did in the 30s, however that was. I’m a blank slate. Just a friend who’s up for snuggles if you want them.”

Chapter 13: Relearning Snuggles Pt2

“Okay. And you’re – you’re sure the door is locked? You checked?”

“Triple checked. And Jarvis is there if Cap tries any funny business later,” I reassured.

“Okay.” Bucky nodded again, this time to himself. “Okay. Okay, and you – I mean you won’t?”

“You’re in control.”

I’ll say it as many times as you need me to. I’m determined to make this a good experience.

He took a couple deep breaths to settle some of the nerves. I pretended not to see the way his hands were shaking when he hesitantly raised them out to me.

The hug was too light at first. He didn’t know where to put his hands. Kept shifting them, afraid to let me feel the trembles I suppose. That all stopped when I nuzzled under his ear.

A flip switched at the motion. His breath hitched. His arms pulled me in tight, hands gripping my shoulders. I decided to try it again.

His head dropped to my shoulder. I waited for his ragged breaths to even out before pulling away. The whimper he made shocked us both.

“I’m just gonna sit, okay?”

I’m not leaving. I wouldn’t do that to you after I promised to help. In fact…

“I have an idea,” I shared, taking a seat on the bed. “I think you’ll like it if you want to give it a shot.”

The way he tried to straighten himself up, to look tall and proud… Well it looked wrong. Desperate. An omega in heat is supposed to be relaxing. Snuggling is just part of life, heat or no heat, and this guy… Yeah. Cap certainly hasn’t been helping the guy feel like he can explore those things obviously.

Bucky was strong, brave, and all that good stuff. Everyone had heard the stories. Everyone had walked in on a 2am coffee binge because Steve couldn’t sleep and didn’t wanna deal with his feelings on the topic. Bucky was apparently an omega who just shrugged off the urges and carried on like a man. Always the big, strong best friend.

Yeah. Fuck that.

“You can relax, Buck. Steve can’t get in. He won’t see.”

And fuck if that wasn’t the right thing to say. He held on maybe another minute, maybe two, and then he just crumbled.

“He’s always saying that – that I used to be this way or that way. Why can’t I want something just because I want it? Why can’t he jus – I just want –”

“Shhh. I know.” I guided him closer. “You can want stuff, Buck. No judgment here.” Held him close when he pulled closer. “You be you, man. You do what’s best for you.”

The soft nuzzles against the side of my neck weren’t as sweet with the tears rolling down his cheeks. My skin was prickly from the salt when he finally dropped his head to my shoulder a few minutes later, all cried out. I kept my voice soft.

“Just relax, alright? I’ve got you.”

The hum he answered with tickled.

“You wanna reposition?” I asked. “Get more comfortable?”

His head rose slowly, eyes shadowed in a syrupy haze. The sugary scent of mocha registered for the first time in a while. I only indulged in it for a moment.

“You… had an idea?”

I nodded. “Move over a sec. You can climb up and I can hold you more securely.”

The statement was acknowledged with pinched brows and a frown. He didn’t get what I suggested apparently until I’d shifted and patted my lap.

“Wouldn’t that be uncomfortable?” he asked uncertainly, putting those walls back up two at a time.

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

Anyone could see he didn’t know how to process the suggestion. He fretted over it, made excuses to protect my comfort. It took a good five minutes for him to finally make up his mind.

He decided he would try it, but only this once.

“Fine by me. You don’t like it and we’ll move.”

He gave a little nod. Gave my lap and legs another awkward look.

Getting into position was another matter entirely. He got up on his knees at first, tried to settle somewhere almost near my knees. That was awkward though what with one foot planted on the mattress and one leg folded up beside mine so he tried to reposition. Which resulted in him sitting sorta sideways as he stretched that first leg out and then had to stretch the other because it was too uncomfortable having it folded. And then I was too close to the wall, his feet bumping up against it in his attempts to get comfortable, so I had to scoot forward a third of the way down the bed. Then there was the issue of him being just a little too far to comfortably wrap my arms around or for him to lay against me.

“Can I?” I asked.

He nodded. And then doubled back to ask, “Can you what?” as I reached forward to grasp his hips.

“Pull you forward,” I clarified.

His head dropped, looking at the gap between our bodies, and then around at where my right hand held his hip.

“Wouldn’t that be uncomfortable?”

“Nope.” I emphasized it with a head shake.

He glanced down at my other hand. Stroked the back of it gently.

“Alright, yeah. That’s... okay.”

I waited a second just in case. Firmed my grip a bit and caught his eye. At his nod, I pulled him snugly into my lap.

There we go. Much better.

“Oh wow.”

“Hm?” I tilted my head back. “What?”

“Nothing, just… I’m taller than you like this,” he answered softly. A little smile tilted one corner of his lips.

“Yeah? You like that?”

At the touch of my hands on his back, he went stiff. Rigid.

“Relax, Buck. I got you, remember?” I set a slow pace. “Just relax. You’re okay.”

He melted slowly into the back rubs. Began to hug me as I changed the up-and-down motion to a circular one. It was beautiful when he squeezed me tight, nuzzling my hair affectionately, a little moan escaping his lips after a particularly stubborn knot came loose under my hands. And so were the little noises that followed when I nuzzled into his throat.

“There ya go,” I whispered, applying pressure to another knot. “That’s it. Just relax.”

He nuzzled my hair a little harder. Inhaled my scent deeply. Sighed in content, arms dropping limping to my sides.

“Yeah?”

He hummed. Then gave a sweet little noise when I got the newest knot loose.

“I know. You just relax buddy. I got ya.”

The next affectionate nuzzles, this time above my ear, had me smiling.

This is dangerous. I know I should be careful but… I could get lost in this feeling.

Chapter 14: Where Are We? Pt4

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?! You had this – this, what did you say? Dissociative disorder? This is serious. Bucky!”

Oh goody. I guess Bucky finally gave in and now he’s coming back here to escape the wrath of the mother hen Rogers. Yay for my ears…

“I didn’t tell you because it didn’t fucking matter Steve!”

“Didn’t matter? How can you say that?!”

“Steve, I just – Could you just give some space please? I promised Clint we’d hang out tonight.”

I fully support this lie. Soon as they actually get through the door I’ll complain about him forgetting to order the pizza. That’ll be convincing.

“After. Buck, I… How long has – Can I talk to my best friend please?”

“The hell am I? You weren’t complaining yesterday when we worked out together.”

Ouch. Wrong turn Cap. Throw it in reverse and apologize to the metaphorical stoplight you just hit.

“No, I – I just meant. Well you said there are alters right? Other personalities? And you said you aren’t the core personality which I have to assume is my best friend. I just wanna talk to him, straighten things out. I wanna hear his side.”

…

Silence?

“You’re not talking to him.”

Oh… That’s an angry Bucky. Should I…?

“Why not? He’s my friend. I just want to talk to my best friend, the real one.”

Aw, Steve, why? Why did you have to throw out the “real” card again? That’s just rude.

“I’m real as anything, pal, and you’re gonna have to deal with it, ya punk. James hardly ever comes out. Not since the fox holes. Not since the lot of his fast made buddies got blown up while he was out stealing a couple packs of crackers for em on a dare,” Bucky seethed.

Well… That was… Damn. I never knew that.

I moved closer to the door, opening it slowly when the following silence didn’t let up. Steve noticed me. Gave me this haunted, caught in the headlights look. Bucky though, he didn’t turn a bit to acknowledge me.

“We’re real,” he bit out, clenching his fist tighter. “You’re stuck with us.”

I watched the rubber band snap in Steve’s mind. All that haunted regret dialed up to a horror that flipped up a couple degrees to horrified anger.

“No.”

Bucky tilted his chin up. “Yep.”

That got a vigorous head shake from Cap. “No. No, the programming is gone. The Winter Soldier doesn’t exist anymore.”

Ah… This could get… tricky.

“Actually –”

“S’okay Clint,” Bucky cut in, finally looking over his shoulder at me. “I got this.”

I nodded. Because I mean, what else was I supposed to do? Argue?

Not a chance.

“He prefers солнце.”

“Sounds Russian,” Steve replied skeptically.

Bucky laughed. “Well, the guy was around a lot of Russians back in the day. So was обнимать.”

“Wait. There’s – There are two winter soldiers?”

“Not really,” I answered without thinking.

The comment got me a disapproving scowl and an amused smile. Bucky reached up to ruffle my hair fondly.

“How the hell do you know?” Steve accused. “Why did he get to know about this and I didn’t?”

“He’s my boyfriend, Steve.” He rolled his eyes. “He met солнце first. Had to explain what was up when I’d had some counseling and we starting stepping out together.”

“I miss him. We should hang out more often.”

That got me a kiss on the cheek. And a squawk of protest from Steve.

“Don’t encourage this, Clint! This is a serious problem. If the Winter Soldier is still –”

“Still what, Stevie?” Bucky asked in that low threatening way of his.

He pulled me in close, tucking himself into my side. I stroked his arm in sympathy. Rose a brow at Cap in solidarity, challenging him to make another fuss.

All that righteous aggravation bled away. Finally Steve sighed, dropping his shoulders into a defeated slouch.

“I’m just worried, Buck. I mean… I thought things were finally getting better. I thought…”

Bucky leaned into me. I squeezed his shoulders in reply.

“Things are getting better, Stevie. I just didn’t feel like sharing this. I don’t have to share everything with you.”

Chapter 15: Fidgety

Notes:

soulmate au
Someone comment or make a request plz. My writer brain needs water XD

Okay. Okay, this is fine. This is… I can make this work. We can make this work. I just have to come up with a plan. Yeah. Once I have a plan, I can stop avoiding Clint.

Is he gonna listen though? I’ve been avoiding him since I found out. It’s been a week. What if he doesn’t –

No. I can’t think like that. He wouldn’t… Well. I don’t know what he would do.

I can’t let myself get wrapped up in the negative. I have to come up with a plan. For a supposed master spy, the guy has no self-preservation skills. He’d get us stoned in the street. I have to be the one to pick up the slack, to think of all the angles. If I can’t come up with something good and get him on board… I could loose him.

…

Damn it.

“Found you.”

My whole body flinched. I rushed to wipe my traitorous eyes so I could turn a glare at the intruder. His lopsided grin only made it harder to be angry.

“You’ve been holed up here for a while. Something on your mind.”

Yeah. You. I’ll be damned if I’ll admit that though.

“Just thinking,” I answered, turning away before my eyes could water again.

“Maybe I could help.”

Deep breath. Have strength.

…

Okay, maybe this could –

A brush of lips against my nape sent a shiver down my spine. He placed another on my shoulder.

“Stop.”

Him pulling away might as well be physically painful.

“Alright. Just tell me one thing?”

I shifted around to face my lovable fella when his silence dragged on. And damn if the sight of his watery cornflower blue eyes didn’t punch the breath out of me.

“Do you…”

He paused to sniffle. I desperately controlled the urge to pull him into a hug I’d never let him out of.

“I thought you were interested. I thought… And then you saw my mark. We’re soulmates. I thought… Did I misread something here?” he asked, voice cracking in places.

Damn it. I can’t do this anymore. Consequences be damned just this once.

He melted into my arms when I pulled him over into my space. It wasn’t like fireworks like they say in the movies. It was fucking passion at its finest, fierce and sweet and a little frantic toward the end.

I pulled away first. Held him as he caught his breath against my shoulder. Savored every second of it for as long as I could.

“So… Didn’t misread,” he panted out, clutching me close.

I nuzzled his hair. Let myself indulge in one last kiss before tearing myself away.

“No. You didn’t.”

“Then why the hell have you been avoiding me?”

“Because!”

Calm. Be calm. Deep breaths.

“Because,” I repeated, quieter this time. “I don’t want nothing to happen to you okay? I was trying to… come up with a plan. A way we could be together without anyone figuring it out.”

The sentiment didn’t cool Clint’s temper though. Only seemed to make him madder.

“You ashamed of me?” he asked, quiet and furious.

“No!”

He crossed his arms over his chest with a moody huff.

“Then why?”

Aw damn it. Why? Isn’t it obvious?

“Because you can’t be gay out in the streets, Barton. That’s why. I love you damn it. I don’t want us getting stoned at the pizza place.”

All that anger drained in an instant.

“Wait… Has no one explained to you that being LGBT is legal now?”

…

“L, G, what?”

Chapter 16: Dimensional Drift

Notes:

Any ideas appreciated. I have no idea what I'm doing with this one.

This has got to be the worst caffeine-induced haze I’ve ever seen him in. I mean I get that he doesn’t sleep half the time, but did he sleep at all in the past week?

“And that concludes my super long explanation of how I invented inter-dimensional travel. Which you obviously weren’t listening to.”

Whoops. I’ve been caught.

“Sorry, Stark. Guess I zoned out when you started talking about ions and particles and… stuff.”

He glared. Or squinted. Could be both.

“You know I could have picked literally anyone else to share this amazing, awesome discovery with right?”

“At 3am?” I asked with a snort. “Not likely.”

“I could have! I just didn’t feel like waking anyone up,” he retorted, crossing his arms. “Because I’m a really nice person. So there.”

He got all grumbly when I chuckled.

“Alright, alright. Show me how it works, super genius.”

The 180 from grumpy to preening was hilarious. Immediately he was back to talking a million miles a minute, pointing at things, and wheeling around on his stool. Seeing it actually powered up was pretty cool. It got all rainbowy and glowy.

“The universe is gay huh?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m sure there’s a bunch of scientific explanations for the manifestation of color within the portal opening, Barton. I’m also equally sure you wouldn’t be listening if I listed them.”

I shrugged. “Gay universe is way simpler.”

“Multiverse!” he shouted, shooting up from his rolly stool. “This device would allow us to travel across multiple dimensions so no, the universe is not gay!”

I nodded. “Got it. Univers-ses. Good to know love is multiversal.”

He slapped his palm over his face. I tried, and failed, not to laugh hysterically at the greasy palm print he left. Him trying to berate me wasn’t effective at all with his efforts to wipe it off just making it so much worse. When DUM-E doused him in fire foam, I doubled over laughing and somehow tripped over my own feet. Suddenly everything was turning rainbow and the last thing I heard Tony say was “Damn it, Barton! I was supposed to go first!”

I think I passed out after that? Or maybe it just got really dark for a while. I don’t know for sure. Maybe I did pass out. I mean, I’m looking at Loki. This has gotta be a dream. Yep, just a really weird dream that hopefully won’t turn into a fucked up nightmare. I’m really tired of Loki nightmares.

“There’s no need to panic,” Loki said, soft and slow like I was some scared animal.

Figures this is how my nightmare would start. Why not?

“You’re alright, little one.” He took a step forward. “Just breathe.”

Ah, hell no! I am out of here! Where’s the exit? There’s gotta be – A door!

“No, no! Don’t panic,” he repeated, taking a few quick steps forward.

I took a chance and bolted. The hallway was all too familiar.

“Course it would be the tower,” I mumbled to myself. “Why couldn’t I dream of somewhere easy to escape?”

“Wait! Don’t run away!”

Damn it! Elevator is too risky to wait on. I could probably loose him using the stairwell. There’s like a million floors. All I gotta do is get far enough downstairs that I can duck and hide somewhere.

I threw the door open when I finally found it. There wasn’t a way to jam it so I used my couple second lead to throw myself over the railing to the next flight of stairs. The door slammed open just as my feet were scraping down onto the steps. His damn voice echoed above me telling me to stop.

Stupid nightmare. I hate the ones where I’m running. Just run, run, run until I do something stupid like run into a wall. I can’t run into a wall this time. I can’t let him catch me. Not this time.

The emergency lights in the stairwell started flashing just as an alarm started up. It was so sudden and loud I tripped. My elbow banged against the railing rattling my bones.

Oow! Ouch! Ow!

Not a dream then. That hurt way too much to be a dream. This means he actually did it. Stark didn’t just create some crazy bubble blower while hopped up on espresso. I’m in another dimension.

Oh no. Loki is in the tower. What if in this world he won? Did he turn humanity into his pets? Is that why he called me little one? Damn it! This is a disaster!

Chapter 17: Dimensional Drift Pt2

This is such a pain. Of all the nights for an attack, why tonight? Why did it have to be the one night this week I was actually sleeping? I was actually sleeping! Damn it!

“Get it together and focus.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, rolling my eyes as Nat ran ahead. “Focus…”

I swear if this guy has any brains he’ll have left by now. I don’t know why I had to be dragged out of bed. He wasn’t near any of the floors with tech on them. Loki found him. Loki should have to deal with him. This isn’t… my…

Wait a minute.

I backed up a pace. Took another whiff of sour strawberries.

Is that… coming from the vents?

Wait… How did he get into the vents? Is there an access point in the stairwell?

Can’t be. He must have found a way in from one of the floors. Why the vents though? Why not just leave?

Maybe he is trying to leave?

Ugh. I’m too tired for this. Let’s see. What floor is… This is the 4oth floor? No, 44th.

“Sgt, if I could direct your attention to the right?” JARVIS asked as I stepped out of the stairwell.

Sour strawberries was thicker here. I followed his instructions and my nose to a storage room. The open vent and chair directly under it painted a pretty clear picture. What didn’t make sense was the scent and the reason I was here.

Tony had said someone had broken into the tower. Loki said it was a guy who was just suddenly here and then ran. I get why Loki didn’t say anything, but shouldn’t the scanners have caught onto the fact that the guy was an omega?

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I am unsure to what you are referring.”

I directed a glare up at one of the hidden cameras. JARVIS remained stubbornly silent.

“I get that I’m a lil old fashioned, being from a different generation and all, but him being an omega makes a difference you know.”

There was a moment of quiet. And then if he could have sighed, I think he would have.

“I understand there is a clash of interests. I can direct another to this location if you would prefer.”

“No way in hell.”

Damn it, I cursed to myself as I worked my way up into the vent. Damn it all. Steve probably doesn’t know either. Got us thinking there’s a threat loose in the tower instead of a terrified omega. The fella might be a threat, sure, but he sure ain’t acting like it. Someone who wants to attack doesn’t typically break in without a scent blocker, letting his terrified scent give him away as he squirrels up into the vents. We got left in the dark, again, just because we give omegas a bit more leniency. Damn it, Stark.

Inch by inch, I pushed myself forward. Carefully stretched over gaps. Accidentally fell into one but apparently he had too by the smell of it so I shook it off and pressed on. In some places I had to maneuver myself up. Those were harder.

Who knew the vents were roomy? I mean, not by much. They’re still vents after all. The fact that I fit with almost half an inch of space above is pretty helpful though. Better than crawling forward.

The opening ahead was wider. Probably another crawlspace above someone’s room. This is… Well I mean I’ve been going up. We must be on the residential floors somewhere right? I can get a better gauge of where I am once I find another set of slats to peek through.

A gust of air brought with it a sickening rush of sourness that made my eyes water. I shoved myself the last pace forward, falling half a foot into the base of the wider vent. Did my best to breathe through the nausea. And then I saw him.

Blonde hair and blue eyes just as described. No one had mentioned hearing aids though. Just like they hadn’t told me he was omega. Or mentioned how terrified he was. And from the look of the aid clutched between his hands, the batteries must be damaged or dead, at least on that one.

I began to sit up. His breath hitched. I froze.

His eyes slid to my prosthetic. I looked down at it too, wondering why such a thing would inspire fresh panic.

Ah hell. What if it’s me and not the arm? Am I.. being intimidating right now? He thought this was a safe place to hide. He probably felt me coming from the vibrations. No one who hides in the ventilation system expects to be followed. I gotta fix this somehow. And I gotta do it fast or he’s gonna knock himself unconscious.

“Can you hear me?” I asked slowly.

He tilted the ear with an aid in my direction. Good. Maybe that one is still functioning.

“It’s okay. I’ll stay over here. Just try to slow down, alright? You’re hyperventilating.”

He pressed himself more firmly into the corner as his breaths got more out of control. My reassurance hadn’t helped at all.

“Slow, honey. Try to slow down,” I coaxed.

I put a hand over my chest. Breathed the sourness deep, held it in my lungs, and released it. The tang of tears hit my nose before I saw them.

“Breathe. Just breathe, fella. I’m right here. We’re okay.”

Chapter 18: Dimensional Drift Pt3

Alright, this could be worse. It’s not great. I’m cornered in the vents with the Winter Soldier. It could be worse though. It could be Loki. It could be so much worse.

Breathe. Right. Got that under control. I’m breathing. Which is… weird honestly. Why isn’t he trying to grab me? Why hasn’t he attacked me? Is he Loki’s soldier in this world? Or did he hunt me down because he felt like it?

“Air you go. Good.”

I adjusted the volume on my left aid. Tilted my head some more trying to catch the words.

“Ou’re alright meg.”

Augh! Stupid static sounds messing with the words.

Frustrated, I clapped my ear hoping the force might knock something back into place inside my hearing aid. Vibrations under my other hand startled my focus back onto the threat. He had moved. And his reaching hand was way closer than it should have been.

“Zz okay… E gentle swee har.”

How long had I tuned out? How did that happen?

“Stop it!” I shouted. “Just back up! Back up, damn it!”

The hopeful look on his face fell. And surprisingly… he actually moved back. Not enough though. He was still close enough to grab me if I lunged for the other opening. Nat said he was quick. How quick was this world’s soldier?

“Can… ear me?”

Talking. He just keeps –

“If you count syllables, maybe.”

That got a smile. I caught bits of the laugh that followed. It was… nice enough I guess.

“W… ou here?”

“If you’re gonna talk to me, could you at least tie your hair back?” I snarked tiredly.

He reared back abruptly, eyes wide. The head tilt and owlish blinking were almost funny. And then he touched his lips, understanding dawning on his face. He searched his pockets next. The fact that the scrunchie he pulled out was purple was interesting.

Seems more like a blue or gray guy to me. You can’t guess em all I suppose. At least he’s got good taste. Better than a neon orange or something weird like that.

I read the word “better” on his lips more than I heard it. It was definitely an improvement.

I nodded.

He smiled, relieved. An apology followed. Weird.

The next broken syllables made more sense now that I could see properly. The question posed a problem though. Do I tell him and have him think I’m insane, potentially speeding along my death? Or do I ignore him and hope for the best in this confined space?

…

Sigh. What have I got to lose? I may never go home…

“I’m not here by choice.”

He nodded.

“I sorta fell through this portal machine and just… ended up here by mistake,” I said, resting my head back against the metal.

That seemed to get him thinking. And then he asked about Asgard. Like I was one of them. Like I would ever be of that world!

“I’m human!” I snarled, banging my fist back against the wall of the vent.

I will never be a puppet again. Never.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you are. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I barely heard the words as I read them from his lips. He looked remorseful, upset, and fidgety. I reigned my temper back in. Let the adrenaline calm with a few deep breaths.

He had misunderstood. That’s all. He didn’t – He knows I’m me.

The skin of my palm was bleeding when I uncurled my fist. The ache and shakiness seemed appropriate given the size of the dent I’d left.

“The portal,” he said. Or maybe it was a question. It was so hard to tell with my aid busted.

“Stark built it. Back in my world.”

He mimicked my words back at me slowly. Confusion pinched his brows. Made his posture change from cautious to curious.

“Yep,” I tacked on, thumping my head back to stare at the silver of the vent’s ceiling. “I’m from another dimension… And I’m stuck here.”

And now that I’m looking around and actually thinking about it… How is there light in here? The vent covers that let the air out shouldn’t let in this much light.

Must be LEDs or something. Lights embedded in the welded seams. Weird.

A sudden vibration. My hands were snatched up by warm and cold ones before I could blink.

“Tell me everything!”

Chapter 19: Dimensional Drift Pt4

This is officially the best day I’ve ever had since coming out of the ice! I can’t believe it!

“This is so amazing! You’re just like a traveler from one of my sci-fi books!”

He tilted his head at that, but it was more in amusement than to hear, and just wow. What a darling look.

“So is there another me in your world? What am I like?”

Ah, no! Don’t – Don’t go back to being tense. What happened to the amusement? Where did our moment of camaraderie go?

“He’s… the Winter Soldier.”

Hm… “I like that.”

He chuckled. It was more hollow though. Definitely don’t like the sound of that.

“I never met the guy, but Nat – She had a couple run-ins with him. Probably more than that to be honest. I’m convinced she’ll never give me the full story.”

“Did he have an arm like this?” I asked, flexing my prosthetic fingers. “He was a cryogenics project too huh? I guess some things carry through the barriers of worlds.”

That got me a squinty-eyed suspicious look. He glanced at the other end of the vent real fast, adjusting subtly.

“And what makes you say that?” he asked, quieter than the other times he’d spoken just shy of too loud.

“Got in an accident during the war. Stark, I mean the one I knew back then, well he was delving into all sorts of stuff. Flying cars, super soldiers, and a cure to death.” I laughed just thinking about it. “We all knew that last one was just to sucker in the investors with egomania. I gotta say though… When I woke up one day, frost clinging to my hair, and Stevie bawling into my shoulder saying we’d won… Well I guess Stark wasn’t just blowing smoke for extra pennies.”

I took a whiff of the air as those first few hazy memories washed over me. The fact that all the sour notes were gone from his scent pleased something in me immensely. That and the fact he was leaning forward, brave enough to touch my prosthetic and twist it around, made me real proud.

“Nice, right? Tony designed it. Said he was more into robotics than his dad was. I’ve gotten used to the weight of it by my side most days.”

After another second or two, he settled back to take another once-over glance of me.

“You’re not a super assassin with serum running through your veins?”

I laughed loud and hearty at the thought. “No way!” I shook my head. “Is that who I am in your world? That’s so much cooler than being a popsicle!”

He looked me over again, seeming to find whatever he was looking for, and relaxed. I grinned.

“You know, I still haven’t gotten your name, stranger.”

He rolled his eyes. “Clint. I’m sure Nat knows me.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard her mention that one,” I replied with a head shake. “You two friends in your world?”

He smiled for a second time, but it was melancholy. “Best friends.” Then he looked me dead in the eye and said, “There isn’t a Clint Barton running around the tower?”

I shook my head.

“That checks out. Explains why Nat hit me so hard…”

So that’s why his aids are busted and his jaw is bruising. Figures that primadonna would strike first and ask later. Typical paranoid Natalia.

“I like your name.”

A huff of a chuckle.

“I do! It’s nice. You got a great set of eyes too. Love the color.”

What am I saying? I’m losing it!

“An-anyway… Can we get out of the vents now? My legs are asleep,” I admitted awkwardly.

“Guess that depends.”

“On?”

“On –”

Sudden loud vibrations cut him off. Something sliced through the metal not far from where we sat. I pressed closer to shield him. Clint pulled my head tight under his jacket, the rush of strawberries and vanilla almost heady, before debris started to fall. When everything got quiet, and I was released, I poked my head out to assess the damage. He barely gave the hole above us a glance before rushing forward to stick his head through the hole below us.

“Hey jackass! You got any idea what they put in insulation?!” he yelled.

My brain stopped short at the strange question.

“You’re the one up the ceiling!” Tony shouted back. “And also… what?!”

“Fiberglass you so-called genius! There’s fiberglass and god knows what else up here that we coulda breathed in because of your stunt!”

Oh.

“My –! You get down here this instant!”

“Maybe I will!”

I tried not to laugh as they bickered. Here we were, him practically hanging upside down from the ceiling just causally having an argument with the billionaire who owned the place. What a crazy night.

“What are you – Oh. You found him.”

You woulda thought the world had burst into flames the way he flung himself back at the sound of Loki’s voice. All those lilting vanilla notes turned absolutely rotten. The onslaught wreaked havoc on my nose, but I barely had the chance to process it before he was shoving up behind me, breathing like a marathon runner who’d lost his pace.

I couldn’t help it. In the face of such panic, seeing those beautiful blue eyes wide, watering, and beyond terrified, I scent marked him. That was the only course of action that made sense as he struggled to breathe. It was the only thing I remembered from back before cryo about omegas, the one thing I’d been told over and over that I couldn’t do… but… it was helping. As I rubbed my wrists over the soft sides of his neck and nuzzled my forehead against his, he was calming. I hugged him close and he clung tight. I pressed the heels of my hands into his shoulder blades, gently loosening the knots, and did my best to soothe him while panicked tears rolled down his cheeks.

The thought crossed my mind that like this, he wouldn’t know what I was saying. He could feel vibrations though. Maybe… maybe I could try? That could be just as comforting if I did it right. I haven’t in so long though. What if… I can’t anymore because of the cryo?

“Buck! What’s going on up there?”

Of course they’d have Stevie talk to me. Bet they figure I’ll answer if it’s him.

“He had a panic attack,” I answered, raising my voice enough to be heard.

Clint clung a little tighter. Lost the even pace to his breath he had only just started getting back. I nuzzled into his neck for a moment.

“You need help getting down? I can come up. I’ll carry him for you if he’s too shaky to climb down himself.”

No. No, I don’t want that. Clint won’t like that.

“I’ve got this! Clean up down there so we don’t step in fiberglass,” I called back.

I’ve got this. I can do this. I remember doing this. I used to… I used to be good at calming down my omega friends when they were distressed. I can handle this.

I inhaled a deep breath. Took an extra second to convince myself. Let it out. On the next, I could barely hear it, but I felt it. And then slowly he went lax in my arms, head resting comfortably on my shoulder, face pressed up close to catch the rumblings from my throat. It felt so good to be whole again.