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Like most things in Bucky’s life, the unfamiliar sound from his phone was probably Steve and Sam’s fault. He’d moved into his own apartment, a whole two subway stops away from them and their overwhelming support and Steve’s weird feud with his cat. After a day or two to get everything set up, he knew what he had to do. Alpine would be fine in his room for a while.
Two of his best friends had to come over and celebrate his ‘house warming’, as though the crappy apartment in Brooklyn actually deserved any celebration or notoriety. Their celebratory beers had been all well and good until the topic of relationships had come up.
Well, not relationships so much as Sam drunkenly suggesting that Bucky needed to get laid and then maybe he’d smile more. Steve had laughed along with it, pointing out that Bucky hadn’t really gone on any dates since he’d gotten out of the hospital. The mention of the car accident immediately brought a guilty look to the blond’s face, and Bucky had to act fast.
“It’s fine, I’ve been relearning how to masturbate anyways. It's tough, doing a two handed job with just my right.”
A crass joke to be sure, but it had managed to scatter the guilt weasels he knew were clawing at Steve, just beneath the surface and waiting to ruin their good night. Sam had burst into a giggle fit, and after much cajoling and annoyance, they’d convinced him to at least download an app. The rest of the night had been spent with Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum downloading apps onto Bucky’s phone, building profiles for him, and giggling between themselves.
He’d left them to it, instead going to check on the most important girl in the world. Alpine had settled onto his bed, lazily lifting her head when he’d opened the door. A soft little ‘mrrp’ escaped her before she settled back down, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile. The sweetest kitten in all the world, even if maybe she could be a little particular with other people. Bucky couldn’t help but slide into the bed next to her, letting her be momentarily annoyed at the disruption of a perfectly fine nap. Let his friends chase the impossible for him. He had everything he needed right here. Sam and Steve at least brought his phone back to him before they headed out. He only woke up from his spontaneous nap because of Alpine’s irritated noises at the intrusion as they returned it.
And now here he was, just as the sun was rising, having to deal with a message from one of the profiles he hadn’t even set up. He dreaded thinking about what those two idiots might have said, what lies they might’ve told. Or more importantly, what pictures might have been involved. Once upon a time, James Buchanan Barnes might have been proud to show off his body, to flirt with any person that caught his eye, and pose for selfies with the best of them. But that guy had two arms. That guy had a physique to die for. These days though, Bucky avoided pictures of all kinds. His body might still have the same muscles, but there was no way to avoid seeing the scars, and Bucky just… wasn’t ready for that.
Blindly grabbing his phone off the charger, he unlocked it with a scowl. Time to check the damage, and see what asshole was messaging him at five thirty in the morning. No notifications on Tinder or Bumble. He had to roll his eyes at the OkCupid app. That one had almost definitely been Steve’s doing, and he’d delete it when he was more conscious.
Swiping onto the next page of apps, he saw it. A gold background with a red chili emblazoned on the icon. One of those dicks had downloaded PeppR.
“See, Alpine? This is why you should never tell your friends you’re bi. They start to get ideas. Nothing worse than a friend with an idea.” When she just trilled out her thoughts on the matter, he leaned down to kiss her forehead. That was close enough to an agreement for him.
Priority one was to see what kind of disaster profile they’d set up for him, so he’d know The photo looked like it’d been taken just that day; It was Bucky climbing the stairs to his new apartment. Clearly showing that he was missing an arm, thanks to the limp sleeve on his left side, but the center focus was almost definitely the way his thighs and ass looked in the jeans he’d been wearing. They were either planning this kind of stunt for a while, or one of them really needed to work on their boundaries.
Who was he kidding? Two things could be true. The text was the real kicker though, and it was all he needed to see to know which one of his idiots had written it.
‘One Armed Bandit’ (No doubt because Sam thought he was funny)
‘My amazing best friends made this profile in the hopes that maybe I’d get the stick out of my ass and replace it with a dick. No Strings, Just Flings’
Definitely Sam’s doing. That was definitely getting deleted. But after he took a moment to investigate whoever messaged him. He was fully expecting a question about the arm, bracing himself for the surge of irritation that would come along with it.
HawkGuy: Hey Bandit; What’s the difference between Light and Hard?
…Well that certainly wasn’t the type of thing he was expecting. A dumb question. Clicking over to the guy’s profile, he found it frustratingly sparse on any personal details..
‘HawkGuy’ 0.4m away
‘Looking for a frequent good time. If you say masc4masc, I will block you.’
The picture was a lot more distracting than the text was, however. HawkGuy clearly didn’t have any kind of shame when it came to showing his body. Otherwise there was absolutely no reason for his main photograph to be the man shirtless, in a handstand, with a pair of bright purple basketball shorts pooling around his thighs.
The angle didn’t give the best view of the guy’s face, but it really accentuated his biceps, his chest. Maybe Bucky attempted to zoom in, trying to get a closer look. And maybe he felt a little warmth pooling in his stomach. But that was between him and Alpine, and she certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone.
“What do you think, sweetheart? Should I respond to the crazy man?” He’d turned his phone towards Alpine, whose bright blue eyes looked absolutely unimpressed with the sudden glow they were subjected to. She took just a moment, before she bumped her nose against the screen before settling back down into her comfortable place against his side.
“Alpine, Lady, why’d you go and do that? What does a little pepper symbol mean?” He furrowed his brow at the new little icon lit up on the guy’s profile. Tapping it again didn’t make it go away.
Fuck. Might as well respond.
One Armed Bandit: I don’t know; One of them leaves bruises?
It was a dumb response, maybe, but what he definitely didn’t expect was the guy to already be sending a reply.
HawkGuy: Oh damn that’s a good one!
HawkGuy: But the correct answer is, Seeing your ass in those jeans didn’t give me a Light On
Alpine gave him an indignant stare at the snort of a laugh he gave. It was stupid as hell, and by the time he’d look back, there was another message.
HawkGuy: Damn, a rare miss. Hold on, I’ve got another one.
HawkGuy: Hypothetical question for you; If you went camping with a buddy and when you woke up, your ass hurt and had vaseline smeared on it, do you think you'd tell anyone?
One Armed Bandit: Dude, what the fuck kind of question is that?
HawkGuy: C’mon, humor me here.
One Armed Bandit: Fine. No, I probably wouldn’t tell anyone.
HawkGuy: Wanna go camping? 💘
And again, he couldn’t help but laugh, setting his phone down and covering his mouth. “Sorry sweetie, I know, it’s too early for my nonsense.” With as much dignity and grace as she could muster in the morning, she pushed herself up off the bed, stretching languidly and hopping off, walking out of the door to the living room.
One Armed Bandit: Are you just saying that because you need help pitching a tent?
HawkGuy: Heyyy, he’s got jokes too! Do you know how hard it was to find guys to date back before we had things like GayDar and dating apps? We had to track each other down using old fashioned maps and the stars.
One Armed Bandit: What the fuck are you talking about?
HawkGuy: You never had to find a date using a SameSextant?
One Armed Bandit: …God Damnit. You’re lucky you’re hot.
HawkGuy: You think I’m hot, huh?
It took a moment for Bucky to realize how good it felt to just… flirt. It was something to do as he shuffled out of his room, pleased to find that, of course, Steve had cleaned up before he and Sam had headed out. His living room looked nearly spotless.
One Armed Bandit: Yeah, I have eyes. You always message random guys this early in the morning? I haven’t even had breakfast yet.
HawkGuy: I’m having mine right now!
A photo came through, just a picture of a massive coffee cup. Apparently HawkGuy was out and about, despite the early hour.
One Armed Bandit: So I probably can’t make a crass joke about taking care of morning wood, huh?
HawkGuy: Tell me where you are, and I’ll be there. I’m happy to volunteer to check and see if the rumors about a stick are true…
Oh. That wasn’t exactly what he had been expecting. He’d meant to just be playful, joking. It wasn’t like the guy was really going to show up at his door, right? But the guy already knew about the arm. He was blindingly hot. He was going to delete the App soon anyways, what was the harm in maybe just feeling normal for a little while before he did?
One Armed Bandit: You know what? Fuck it. I just moved into a new place, and it needs to be christened. Give me an hour or so to wake up and make it presentable.
And he dropped his location pin in the chat, and immediately tossed his phone onto the couch away from him. Fuck. He had to shower. Maybe shave? This was stupid. He’d barely handled having Sam and Steve over, and that still ended with him retreating into his bedroom before they left. What the fuck was he thinking, inviting some stranger over.
He’d managed to make it to the kitchen counter, his breathing getting shallower as his whole world started to collapse into that one, crystal clear moment. Knowing he’d made a mistake. Done something so stupid that his whole life was going to fall apart. His vision was already starting to darken around the edges as he felt the overwhelming panic start to creep in. There was no escaping it–until Alpine’s claws pierced into his calf, the sweet white cat stretching up and pawing at his leg. She probably wanted food, but the sharp shock of pain was enough to disrupt his thought process and snap him out of the spiral. It was enough to make him smile just a little bit.
"Thanks. Let's get you your breakfast. And I'll—" It took a moment for him to really process what he should do. He'd invited someone over. Jesus. He needed to let someone know. What if HawkGuy was a murderer? They hadn't even exchanged names. Before he could fall back into the pit of anxiety and concern, Alpine let out a low chirrup of frustration at the lack of breakfast.
Right. One step at a time. Normally he'd save it for dinner, but she definitely earned a treat. Half a can of wet food might not be as much as she felt she deserved, but it would be more than enough to start the day.
Carefully scooping it out into her dish, he focused back on what was next. Someone was coming over. His apartment was still too freshly moved in to be much of a problem, but he should let someone know, in case HawkGuy did turn out to be a murderer.
Sam was out. He'd be way too excited and smug about it, since it was his profile that had done the trick. That would be unbearable
Steve would do his best to be supportive, but he'd absolutely end up getting that little crinkle around his eyes. The guy was a hopeless romantic. A random hookup just because the guy was disgustingly hot wasn't exactly Steve's thing.
The problem was, for the last six months that had almost been the entirety of his social circle. Grabbing his phone, it dawned on him exactly what he'd have to do. He hadn't texted her nearly as much as he should have, but he knew she’d always be his friend. And always a little scary. That was why she'd always been his favorite coworker. At least until she'd found another job, shortly before his accident.
Quick and easy, the text was sent off.
Hey Nat. Blind Date Protocol?
James. It's six in the morning. Just say it's a hookup.
If you get murdered I'll track him down. Text me when he leaves.
It could be a she!
It isn't though
He hated a little bit that she was right. But that was one step down. Someone knew what was going on, and would at the very least avenge him if something happened. Not that anything would happen. Except the thing he wanted to happen.
PeppR had more notifications, but he pointedly avoided looking there just yet. He needed breakfast for himself, and then a shower. And maybe figure out something to wear.
Was it important to look cute for a hook up? Or was it better to just… Make sure it was easy to remove? Was wearing no underwear too obvious? Why the fuck was he over thinking this?
Damnit, Focus. Next step was breakfast. Bagel. Hardboiled egg. He could do that. He barely even flinched when the bagel popped up from the toaster, no matter what Alpine might say. No time to wait for coffee to brew, he'll have some after his shower.
His phone chirped again and he'd snatch it up.
Nothing from Natasha. Another notification from PeppR. Maybe the guy had changed his mind…
HawkGuy: Hey don't stress on my account. I don't even think I brushed my teeth yet. I'll stop by my place and be there soon.
HawkGuy: I didn't gross you out by saying I didn't brush, right? Because I've got mints. And I totally brushed last night.
HawkGuy: Hey so, I'm about twenty minutes away unless you need me to walk slow, so I hope you didn't change your mind. If you did, at least I can grab another coffee on my way home, so like, no pressure?
HawkGuy: That sounded like I was trying to pressure you. Look, I'm in the neighborhood. You still up?
Fuck. Twenty minutes? He'd lost track of time, probably thanks to his nerves. He scrambled to send a reply. He'd already done the other steps, he couldn't back out now!
One Armed Bandit: Hey sorry, Was making breakfast. Hopping in the shower now. I'm in Apartment 6B, Buzz and I'll let you up.
No time for a full relaxing shower like he might've hoped for. He’ll have to prioritize. Get the sexy parts thoroughly scrubbed and ready. Try not to stress about all the rest. Anything else is probably fine, he’d made Sam and Steve do most of the work of moving him in anyways. The fact that he pulled off his clothes with the kind of gusto he did was just because he was rushed. Not excited.
There's the briefest hesitation when he passed by the bathroom mirror. Still struggling to accept the guy he sees is him, he ducks into the shower, without even letting it come to temperature. The cold shocked him enough to ground him in reality and he'll take care of what needed to be scrubbed as best as he can, rinsed. Half tempted to wash his hair, but it'd take too long, and wet hair isn't all that sexy.
He was working on drying himself off when he heard the obnoxious buzzing coming from the door. More than enough to make him softly curse, scrambling to get back to the bedroom. He should put on something better, but a pair of sleep pants within reach will have to do. He pulled them on quickly, followed by the same shirt he'd fallen asleep in. Not exactly impressive, but at least he felt a bit cleaner as he hurried to the door, jabbing his thumb into the button to allow HawkGuy into the building.
He could ignore the vaguely judgemental gaze of his cat from her perch on the back of the couch. She'll go back to grooming herself lazily and… Shit, should he have mentioned he had a cat? What was the etiquette for telling a hook up about a pet? What if the guy was allergic, or…
Whatever thoughts he started stressing over scattered at the sound of a knock on his door. Yanking it open a bit too fast, his nerves got the better of him as he snapped "What?" as though he wasn't actively anticipating a visitor.
The guy on the other side of the door didn't seem to take any offense though, he just flashed a little bit of a smirk that brightened the space between them considerably. "Not a morning person, huh?"
"Shit, Sorry. You're HawkGuy, right?" He paused for a moment and failed utterly to hide the way his eyes roamed. The guy was tall, taller than Steve, which was just kind of rude and unnecessary. Straw blond hair stuck up like he'd just woken up, just long enough that Bucky found himself itching to touch it, to run his fingers through it, really let them get lost in there. Would it be soft? Coarse? He suddenly needed to know. The guy's ears stuck out just a little, something that offset made him feel a little more approachable. His ma would’ve said it gave his face character.. Tucked behind his ears, there was the splash of purple plastic. Headphones maybe? Bucky wasn’t sure, he was distracted quickly
It was a relatively handsome face to look at though. Decent cheekbones, with just a smattering of freckles. The bit of wrinkling around his eyes meant he probably laughed often, and genuinely. A nose that had been broken and set more than once, and probably not by professionals. But those damn eyes. They were blue, but not like Steve's deep, ocean blue. These were brighter, making Bucky think of flowers in spring time. Cornflower blue with a few little flecks of what looked like gold. Shit, Stop staring at his eyes like a freak.
His lips looked a little chapped, his cheeks and jaw showing a bit of stubble. Some faint scars, nothing that distracted from the whole picture. His shoulders were broad, his chest straining faintly against the fabric of his t-shirt. A faded white shirt, with purple text declaring ‘It’s not the Size of the Arrow, it’s the Strength of the Draw’. The sleeves were doing their absolute best against a set of biceps that made Bucky's mouth water.
At least his pants made him feel a little less self conscious. The guy was just rocking a classic; simple purple sweatpants, though with a pattern of pizza slices decorating the entirety of them. The problem was, they were similarly threadbare as his shirt, and Bucky was painfully aware of two things all at once. He hadn't really had sex in a very, very long time.
And HawkGuy wasn't wearing any underwear. Fucking hell. He knew he was staring again, but it felt like there wasn't a safe place to look. Was he supposed to just stare at his chest, and be aware of the fact that he could just barely make out the shape of his nipples under that fabric?
(He wanted to bite them, HawkGuy looked like he'd moan from that)
Or was it better to look at his face, and start thinking about what his lips might taste like?
"Yeah, That's me." He offered up with a little laugh. "But you can call me Clint. Or Tiger if you're in that kind of mood."
"I. Uh. Wh. Huh?" Every bit of Bucky's brain had simply dribbled out of his ears at that point, he knew it. There was no other explanation. The guy was built like a Greek God's wet dream and he was going to just drop a line like that? What the actual fuck!
Unfortunately, the door had been open for far too long. Alpine finally decided it was well within her rights to investigate, lazily dropping down off the couch and padding without any sense of urgency towards the door. She'd only just breezed past Bucky when he managed to notice her plan.
Call Me Tiger Clint had already caught sight of her, and dropped into a crouch as casual as can be. "Hey there pretty girl." His tone was sweet and smooth, probably meant to soothe a strange animal, to encourage a friendly response. If only he knew…
"Wait, She doesn't actually li—" Whatever warning that Bucky had been planning to give died on his lips, as Clint slipped one hand underneath Alpine and scooped her up. A move that would've left Steve bloodied and terrified. Yet he simply scooped her up, rolling her onto her back in his arms and against his chest.
"I think you're too pretty to be wandering around out there. All those street cats ain't good enough for someone like you." And he leaned down, to just gently bump his nose against hers. The wonders never cease, the way that Alpine simply let out a little trill in greeting, before pressing her face up against his, nuzzling against that stubbly cheek. "So, mind if I come in? I feel like if I put her down right now she's just going to dart out again."
Bucky was awestruck. Alpine was a loving cat, sure. To him. But he'd never seen her react positively to anyone so quickly. Hell, Sam was the only one she kind of liked, and it had taken months for her to even allow him to sit on the couch when she was on it.
"Shit, right yeah. I'm James, by the way." A light nod, and he stepped aside, watching an absolutely stunning man carry his cat into his apartment, and trying to process. "Sorry, I should've mentioned I have a cat. Her name's Alpine and she's not usually this friendly?"
"Aw, No? She's such a good kitten…" Bucky pointedly ignored the little spike of warmth that ran through him when he heard that, swallowing audibly. This was madness. There was no way this could be happening. Clint walked in comfortably, setting Alpine down on the couch, and running a finger from her nose over her forehead and down her back, a simple, quick pet.
She seemed delighted with the attention, looking up at him like he'd invented canned tuna and cat trees. "Yeah, uh. Sorry. I should've said something, I get it if it's too much, You were just looking for a fuck, and I'm making it awkward by talking about my cat…." He knew he was scrambling, panicking for an out.
"Hey, Jamie, no. I'm still looking forward to fucking you. Jeeze, you think just because you have a sweet cat, I'm not still thinking about making you beg for me? C'mon." The smile on his face had a little bit of an edge to it, something that was just beyond teasing, tempting enough to make Bucky's mouth go dry. "Why don't we go to the bedroom, Alpine can be in charge of the living room, and we can talk about what we wanna do?"
"Uh, Yeah, Yes, Sure, Clint." He turned to lead the way, pausing only when he heard a sound almost like a growl from Clint. Looking over his shoulders, those blue eyes were locked on Bucky's ass, looking a little dark with desire. The cotton sleep pants he'd pulled on weren't anything special, a soft grey fabric with… oh, right. A bright red star, right over his ass. And they might've been a little tight. But he didn't think they were worth that kind of reaction.
"Love a guy who gives me a clear indicator of a goal, Jamie." Before he'd finally follow Bucky into the bedroom. He didn’t seem to notice the bit of clutter, or the mussed up blankets. “So, ground rules. Safety first, no arguments. Don’t touch my ears. And you’ve gotta tell me if things are good, or bad. Otherwise how can I make it the best. What about you?”
There was that easy smile on his face as he eased the door closed behind him, forbidding Alpine from interrupting them. Bucky couldn’t help but blink a few times. “I uh… I want to keep my shirt on. And try not to touch my left shoulder. Why the ears?” He didn’t mean for it to come across nearly as sharp as it did, but having to talk about his arm always made him a little tense. Fuck.
“Yeah no big. Hearing aids, Don’t like anyone fucking with them, that’s all. Shit’s expensive, you know?” It seemed like he didn’t mind the tone, though he did turn his head, just giving Bucky a better look at the purple plastic he’d half assumed were headphones before. It made sense, though that didn’t stop Bucky from silently chastising himself for not noticing.
“How about kissing? You okay with that? Because I’m not going to lie, ever since I saw your mouth that’s been on the top of my list…”
“Oh, uh, yeah? Kissing is fine, It’s just not–” particularly his thing. At least that’s what he’d been trying to say before Clint closed the distance between them and pulled him in close. One hand on his left hip, the other sliding along his neck to tilt his head upward and slot himself perfectly up into the kiss.
Bucky had never particularly been a fan of kissing, at least not the way some people seemed to be. It had always been something that was just a logical step, one of the steps that he went through with his dates.
Clint was obviously of a different opinion. He kissed like an art form, letting his lips press against Bucky’s before his tongue slipped free. It wasn’t a demand, merely an invitation, and there was no way Bucky had it in him to deny it. It felt important at that moment. It felt like the two of them coming together to start something… unexpected. When it did finally end, with a low exhalation of breath and the dragging pressure of teeth over his lower lip, Bucky was awestruck.
“...Fuck, no, yeah, you can kiss me anytime, Clint.” His breathing stuttered slightly when the blond hit him with another one of those smiles. How exactly was he this good looking and single? “Wait, shit, you are single, right?”
“Huh?” Clint had apparently kissed himself a little stupid as well, a little bit of a laugh escaping him “Yeah, Single, don’t worry about that. No jealous boyfriend or girlfriend or life partner.”
Bucky nodded for a moment, and then shuffled back, his calves bumping against his bed. “Good, I just… Yeah.”
“I get it. Don’t worry, Nothing you have to think about except for right here, right now, with the two of us.” And another kiss came in, pushing away more of the concerns as Clint pushed against him and slowly started to ease him down onto the bed. It was a little awkward, since the blond was really quite cautious about avoiding Bucky’s left shoulder and side almost religiously, but a few stumbles didn’t really seem like much of a problem, not when he felt those lips against his.
“God you’re beautiful.” Bucky had settled onto his back, staring up at Clint. The compliment made him shift his gaze away, unable to look up at the blond adonis “Aw, hey, Jamie, baby, no, don’t look away. I mean it.”
Clint climbing onto the bed was a slow thing, like he’d expected Bucky to bolt at any moment. He wasn’t entirely incorrect, of course, but he managed to get himself over top of the brunette, supporting himself with one (stunning) arm while the other gently ran his fingers along Bucky’s jawline, to gently guide him to face him.
“If you’re uncomfortable with the compliments, I’ll lay off, I just couldn’t help it.”
“No, it’s fine, I just… Haven’t heard that in a while, that’s all.”
“Jamie, you gotta hang out with better people. Artsy people, who know all kinds of fancy words when they see beauty. Because you’re one of the best lookin’ guys I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen a lotta guys, I’ve been on PeppR since before it launched.” he joked lightly. It had the effect he’d been hoping for. Bucky smiled again, brightening the room considerably.
“Now, If you don’t mind, I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t get my hands on your ass. I know we don’t have all day or anything, but–”
“Actually this is kind of my only plan for the day.” Bucky offered up. That reveal was enough to get Clint up on his knees, half straddling Bucky’s legs and looking down at him with wide, excited eyes.
“...Oh, Jamie. I’m gonna take my time with you then. Just let me shoot off a quick text.” reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, swiping it quickly. He also tossed something else onto the bed. For a moment it made Bucky’s breath catch, until he realized the thing that looked like a bullet was, in fact, just a bottle of Gun Oil.
He forgot how to breathe all over again when the pack of Magnum condoms was tossed down next to it. “Clint, you’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you?”
Clint smirked just a little bit, dropping his phone before gripping the hem of his shirt. Pulling it up and off slowly, Bucky was forced to feel all the moisture leave his mouth as he slowly watched. What seemed like literal miles of lightly tanned skin was revealed, a cobble stone path of abs that he was suddenly overcome with a desperate need to trace with his tongue. Clint tossed his shirt to the side finally, a momentary flex that he almost definitely practiced.
“Naw, Babe. Though I will make you see Heaven.” The line was dorky as hell, but that quirked smile on his face was more than enough to make Bucky laugh through it instead. Shifting off to the side, Clint lightly tapped Bucky’s thigh, a physical signal of sorts “Roll over for me.” It wasn’t quite a question, but at least Clint managed to avoid making it sound just like a demand. And there was that little bit of an ego boost when Bucky rolled over, and the tall blond couldn’t hold back the deep groan of desire.
“I meant what I said though, Jamie. These pants? They’re basically criminal. How can you just strut around with thighs like that, and pull everyone’s attention to that ass?” Clint’s hands weren’t about to be contained now, not when they could run up along the outside of Bucky’s thighs. Hooking his finger tips into the waistband of those pants, he pulled them down slowly.
Thankfully Bucky lifted his hips up just a little bit to encourage the act, feeling the soft rasp of the cotton as it slipped past the curve of his ass. Cynically, he had to admit that since losing the arm, his work outs had certainly been a bit more focused on Leg Day.
Judging by the way Clint hesitated the second the elastic slipped past the swell of cheek, he appreciated the payoff. The silence started to turn slightly awkward, however, until Bucky lifted his head up to look over his shoulder. “...I showered. Uh, thoroughly? Or, I guess… I prioritized my shower, for… this in mind?” There really is no good way to bring up that he was down to get his ass played with, was there?
“Yeah?” Clint’s eyes were dark, his pupils wide, as he slowly leaned down. “Good to know, because I meant what I said when I said I wanted to take time…” As Bucky rested his head down down, a blush heating his cheeks, he wasn’t entirely sure what he expected.
Clint’s teeth dragging over his left cheek to deliver an affectionate bite? Definitely not anywhere on the list. It startled a little noise out of him that he did his best to muffle with his pillow.
“Jamie, don't do that. I wanna hear you. How else will I know if what I'm doing feels good?” Bucky’s ears were burning a little, but his awkwardly mumbled affirmative was enough. Clint had kept pulling his sleep pants down, shoving them haphazardly down to his ankles before leaning in again.
This time he let his hands run up along those thighs, until each one had a proper palm full of Bucky’s ass. Whatever happy noise managed to escape his throat in that moment was swiftly muffled when he leaned in. Thumbs digging in just enough to pull Bucky open, so that Clint can let his tongue slide along the brunette’s balls, beginning a slow journey up. The feeling sent sparks up his spine, and he did his best to stay still.
That plan went entirely out the window when Clint’s tongue pushed teasingly against his hole, a brief temptation before he pulled back and instead let his breath wash over it. Bucky couldn’t resist pursuing the feeling, a muttered ‘fuck’ escaping him before he pushed his hips up and back ever so slightly.
Yesterday, if he’d been asked, he would’ve made it very clear to anyone who asked that he didn’t mind getting his ass ate, but didn’t really see it as anything other than foreplay.
Yesterday Bucky was stupid. Maybe he’d had a guy lick his hole. But it had never been quite like the way that Clint dove in with some proper enthusiasm. Working his tongue along that furled muscle, it obviously wasn’t just something meant to be foreplay. The blond was going at it like he intended to get Bucky off before he’d even taken his own pants off. It seemed like the only thing he could’ve wanted in the world was to feel the way Bucky’s hole fluttered against his tongue.
To prod and tease at it with his fingers as he dove deep, leaving Bucky just about helpless. What else could he do other than try and muffle his moans uselessly with the pillow in front of him, losing track of the time as his hips mindlessly worked to grind gently against the blanket underneath him.
“Mmn, there we go.. Looks like you need a little bit more though.” Clint had lifted his head just a little bit, giving Bucky’s ass an affectionate bite that made him gasp, arching up to push into the feeling. Which only served to encourage them both. “Gotta stretch you open, otherwise this won’t be nearly as fun.”
“C’mon, You can’t just expect me to lay here. I could… I don’t know, get you ready?”
“Trust. I’m as ready as I’ve ever been.” Reluctantly departing from his point of view of Bucky’s ass, he’d at least shuffle up enough onto the bed. The change in position allowed him to momentarily straddle one of Bucky’s calves, and press down to grind against him. Whatever protests Bucky might have had about taking their time, and getting stretched out are immediately forgotten.
Kind of a rookie move to not even ask a hook up how hung they were. He really was flunking Hookup App 101. Though he had to admit that it had worked out in his favor this time. The blond was packing something serious enough to need the warm up.
“Hey, Don’t tighten up on me. Take a breath.” It wasn’t intentional really, but Bucky couldn’t help it. Especially when he heard the cap of the lube pop open. He tensed up again, waiting for the vaguely familiar cold sensation of the drips. Instead, he felt the slick, rough tip of Clint’s fingers. “Sorry to make you wait, sweet thing. I just wanted to warm it up a little.”
Something as simple as taking a moment to warm up the lube between his fingers probably shouldn’t seem romantic right? The gentle circles of that finger work wonders at helping him relax, his head settling back into his pillow. The inexorable push in was welcomed at that point, easing that subtle feeling of emptiness that he’d started to notice. One finger wasn’t quite enough, but it was something.
The gentle rhythm of the digit felt good, even if it wasn’t satisfying. If Bucky didn’t know any better, he’d think the blond was specifically avoiding pressing on all the best spots, spurring him to grind his hips back, driven by the building need.
When the second finger started to push in, Clint kept whispering sweet nothings into Bucky’s ear, encouraging him open, encouraging him to relax. Which was easier said than done when the man had the audacity to follow it up with a perfectly timed press of those rough fingertips directly on Bucky’s prostate.
“Jamie, baby, Gotta ask before we get too far. How many times can you usually…?”
“Mnf… Dunno. Never really had a guy try for more than once?” His words were breathy, mostly because Clint still hadn’t stopped working his fingers steadily, constantly in motion and teasing along his prostate.
“So if I told you I want to roll you over, finger you till you cum all over yourself, and then see if I can fuck another load out of you, that would be…?”
“Oh, fuck, yes, please.” He didn’t whine, honestly. His words just got a little higher pitched and a little stretched out when he thought about that possibility. It was something completely different. But Clint didn’t seem to mind.
“Perfect. Gonna roll over for me then, Baby?”
“You gonna, oh, Oh fuck.” The answer as to whether or not Clint was planning on pulling his fingers out was given with a few, hard thrusts of them before he did in fact pull back properly.
Rolling onto his back had never felt like such a chore before, and it made him suddenly more aware of the fact that his shirt was still on. As he fidgeted his weight to roll onto his back, he was silently cursing himself. Winnie the Pooh wasn’t fucking sexy.
But when he settled back down, his legs slightly spread, knees apart, he let himself look at Clint. The blond looked like he was about to chew through his lower lip, his eyes dark with need.
“Damn, Jamie. It just ain’t fair that you’re so pretty, you know that? It okay if I blow you a little? Your dick is just…” A nondescript noise left him as he shrugged, as though that should be enough to make it clear that he really couldn’t help himself but want it.
“Do guys normally say no to getting their dick sucked, Clint?”
Which made the blond laugh just a little nervously. “Hey, I’m just making sure. Just say something before you cum, okay?” Though realistically, Clint was probably going to know anyway. The way he’d already proven himself adept at working over Bucky’s body, he’d probably know he was about to bust before Bucky did himself.
One of the condoms was pulled free in a fluid motion with Clint’s left hand, while his right moved his fingers back to Bucky’s hole. It was a sufficient distraction, because one minute, the Blond is holding a foil wrapped condom, and the next he’s torn the thing open with his teeth, and he’s leaning over.
Apparently he knew how to slide the condom down onto Bucky’s dick with just mouth. And fuck did it feel good, the way his lips and tongue started to dance along it. In no time, he had settled a pace that damn near whited out Bucky’s vision and shut down whatever mental filter he had that contained the noises he made. Gasps, whimpers, moans started spilling from him like the dam had been broken. Clint was pumping two fingers in and out again with more confidence, while teasing his tongue in swirls along him. On the down stroke, he went all the way down, pressing his nose into Bucky’s pelvis and seeming to relish the opportunity.
It was on one of those downstrokes that Clint dared to start easing the third finger past the already stretched ring of Bucky’s hole, eliciting a sharp gasp. “F-Fuck, Clint!”
But he didn’t seem dissuaded. His free hand reached up to where Bucky’s was gripping at his blanket underneath him. Tugging it up to thread their fingers together, Clint pulled up to the tip, giving Bucky’s hand an affectionate squeeze.
The eye contact was surprisingly intense. Not quite as intense as the way three fingers slowly pumped in and out of his ass, and it didn’t measure up to the way Clint then pushed himself back down, taking Bucky deep and squeezing his hand again.
Rising and falling with the tides of pleasure, Bucky couldn’t help but stare down at him and admire. Maybe there was a little bit of a bias going on, he was getting his dick sucked, but he didn’t know anyone could look so damn good while sucking dick.
“C-Clint. Fuck, I’m gonna cum if you don’t slow down a little bit.” But there was no relenting in the suction, the fingers curled a little more insistently, pressing aggressively onto his prostate.
Hopefully that was a sign to let loose, because Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. His breathy moans became more desperate as the fire stoked by the diligent fingers and hungry tongue suddenly bloomed into an all consuming moment.
Bucky definitely lost a moment or two there as he spilled into the condom, and vaguely wished it had been down Clint’s ravenous throat. But when he blinked his eyes back into focus, Clint had pulled off, and was carefully pulling the condom off.
“Damn Jamie. You look heavenly when you cum. Should snap a picture, hang it in a museum.” But the brunette shook his head, blushing hotly and desperately trying to catch his breath. He already felt the loss of the fingers in him, though he was coherent enough to be vaguely impressed when Clint tied off the condom, tossing it to the other side of the bed. Right into the small trash can he kept there.
Clint didn’t pull away very far though, a happy little groan escaping him as he pressed his lips along Bucky’s flesh, trailing his way up to his hip bone. He was rewarded with the sound of a muffled moan, the way that those hips lifted and pushed. It just encouraged him to keep marking him up, sucking soft marks along his hips.
Gently nudging Bucky’s thighs apart, he couldn’t help but admire the view again “Jamie, baby, You’re so fucking pretty…” He punctuated every word with a few, nibbling-kisses along his thighs, leaning closer again, to admire the slickened, lubed up hole.
It took every ounce of self control he had to not dive down again, bury his tongue in that waiting hole and listen to Bucky moan for him. There were other things to do, and his own dick wasn’t leaving much argument for patience anymore. When Bucky’s thighs reflexively closed around his head, he couldn’t help but respond with another, firmer hickey into the flesh before speaking up.
“If I don’t get inside you soon though, I might die. You took my fingers so good, baby, Do you think…?” Clint was frustratingly still in his Pajama pants, though there was that plentiful package pushing desperately against the fabric. That was thankfully enough to get Bucky to relax his legs, freeing him.
“Clint. You could tell me you were going to harvest my Kidneys, and I’d ask if you needed help. Just… Take your fucking pants off and fuck me?”
“Aw, Jamie… Wait, I’m not totally sure I like that getting fucked is on the same level as organ theft. That might be the kind of thing we gotta talk about. Later though.” He would laugh a little though. A sensible man would’ve probably shifted off the bed and stood up to take his pants off. A smart one might have known to prop himself up with one arm if he wasn’t going to get off the bed.
At the moment, Clint didn’t have nearly enough blood in his brain to be smart nor sensible. So both hands hooked on his waistband to push down, while he attempted to lift one knee up and free his leg. Woefully off balance, Bucky could only watch as the blond wound up toppling to the side. It was an act so ridiculous that it managed to distract him from the reveal he’d been waiting for.
A significantly bigger problem, however, was the fact that Bucky’s bed wasn’t terribly large. When Clint fell to the side, he missed the bed, instead landing with a thump on the floor.
It’d be rude to laugh, which is why Bucky absolutely definitely did. He couldn’t help it, it just bubbled out of him for a moment, before Clint popped back up into view, abruptly standing up, pants around his ankles right around the time Bucky had pushed himself up to sitting, prepared to investigate.
He probably looked a little embarrassed about the fall, but the truth of the matter was that Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off the man’s dick. Bucky had never really felt self conscious about his dick before. He knew he wasn’t packing anything historical or mind blowing, but it was thick enough to get the job done in a memorable way. Clint’s dick was in a different league.
Uncut, Bucky could see just the hint of foreskin begging for his tongue to tease along it. It didn’t look impossibly thick, but there was enough girth to it that Bucky had to wonder if three fingers was enough. He certainly hadn’t been stretched deep enough to handle it. The weight of the thing was enough that it wasn’t so much pointing up in arousal as it was lazily arching towards Bucky.
A glistening drip of pre forming at the tip, and Bucky couldn’t help himself, reaching out to brush his thumb along the head to gather it up. The way even that simple contact made the blond shiver was gratifying as all hell.
“Sorry, I wanted to manage that way cooler.” Clint somehow managed to seem completely awkward, despite the fact that he was proudly displaying the finest dick that the brunette had ever seen. New words needed to be invented to explain how badly he wanted his mouth on it. Instead, he opted to bring his thumb to his lips, swiping the small taste of him.
“Clint. You’re great, in every way except one.” And when the blond made a confused, distressed noise, he couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re not in me right now.”
“Oh, shit, right.” Clint flashed a smile, before he’d snatch up another condom. This one didn’t tear off as smoothly, in his flustered rush he managed to pull every one out of the string of them out like a magician’s never ending hankie. “Tada?”
The laughter from before returned in full force, Bucky unable to stop himself before he flopped onto his back and let it out. He’d never laughed in the bedroom before, at least not like this. After he settled down, and realized Clint was still smiling, he realized it’s good.
Real good.
Clint was more than happy to slip back onto the bed, easing his way back between those glorious thighs as he tore open the condom package, sliding it on with practiced ease.
“Everything still good, Jamie?”
“Yeah, I’m just admiring the view, doll.” It was like putting on an old shirt, unsure if it would fit. Trying to channel a little bit of the flirtatious personality he’d had from before. Judging by the way Clint practically turned pink all over, it worked.
“I think I like doll.” He said with a little smile, as he slowly moved his body over Bucky, one hand holding him up while the other was steadily slicking up his cock, slow and easy strokes. It followed along with the head of his cock until Clint was brushing Bucky's thighs with his knuckles, teasing his way forward. Thankfully all of his work earlier hadn’t been undone, and he was pleased to find that slick ring of muscle still pliable, if not necessarily as relaxed as before.
“Slow breath Jamie…” Of course he didn’t really need to tell Bucky that, there was just a bit of nervous energy that he couldn’t shake off when he finally let the thick head of his cock rest against him. A slow grind of his hips to push himself forward, and feel him open up for him.
Exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding, Clint focused on just feeling the way Bucky responded to the touch, the slightest push. Watching his face was practically the best part of the whole situation, which was wild considering he was actively sinking his dick into him.
“Fuck, Jamie. You feel so fucking incredible. Like you were made just for me.” Clint was nearly growling out the words, leaning in to press his lips against the right side of Bucky’s neck, soft kisses between each word. “Gotta hold right here, let you adjust baby…”
“Clint…” The word slipped from his lips softly, delicately. Almost like it was pushed out by the next grind of the blond’s hips, forcing him to shiver. “You’re just so… fucking thick…”
“I know baby, But you’re doing just fine. Just a little over halfway there.” Which he’d meant to be encouraging, but Bucky’s body tensed up as he gasped, tossing his head back into the pillow.
“What the fuck do you mean halfway? It feels like your dick’s already pushing into my damn throat.” The spirited tone made Clint grin just a little bit as he pressed his lips to Bucky’s neck again for more kisses.
“If you want to find out what my dick feels like in your throat, we’ll have to start with that next time, baby.” That little bit of a laugh that escapes him helps alleviate some of the tension in the moment. Whatever words he might have to offer after that are lost against Bucky’s pulse point.
The sound that Bucky made when Clint started easing his hips forward is beautiful, the kind of thing that makes him so grateful for the hearing aids in his ears. It’s all aborted vowel sounds and desperation and the way that it slithers into his head and stirred up something in his hindbrain. He couldn’t help but sink all the way forward, scarcely pausing to catch his breath.
The brunette under him though, had different plans. He knew how to roll his hips, and judging by the groan that’s muffled against his neck, it’s effective. Clint’s hands finally found purchase on Bucky’s hips, daring to actually pull himself back. A terrible decision really, against every instinct that was screaming through his body to bury himself as deeply in this perfect place.
But before he got far, he did just that. A snap of his hips like a gun shot, accompanied by the shout of ‘Fuck!’ that can’t quite get held back. It’s a rhythm he has to set, a pace he can’t resist.
In a perfect world, Clint would’ve gone for hours. They would’ve changed up the positions, probably even gotten wildly athletic and acrobatic with it. It was one of Clint’s favorite things when he wanted to impress someone. But the way Bucky clung to him, the way it felt to finally sink into him…
There was no way it was going to last long enough for any of that. The best that Clint could do was to bury his face against Bucky’s shoulder, muffling the noises of need and desire. It also gave him a proper front row seat for the sounds he was pulling out of the sweet, needy brunette.
Bucky could feel that knot in his stomach tightening already, flustered by the realization that it wasn’t going to take much before his new blond fuckbuddy brought him to the edge again (Fuck, was it too soon to call him that? He just knew he needed a repeat performance).
The slow steady roll of his hips was like bliss itself, friction building up between the two of them. And the damn blond seemed to know exactly where to aim, how to angle himself. Every thrust and movement just built on what he’d already done, wearing a path through Bucky straight towards his core.
It was almost too easy to track how close Bucky was getting now. He tried to beg, tried to encourage Clint into more, but the words kept getting cut shorter and shorter.
“Fuck Clint”
“I need–”
“Plea–"
“F–!”
The way he reduced Bucky down to nothing but fricatives and moans was definitely going onto the highlight reel of Clint’s life. The only warning he got about Bucky’s orgasm was the feeling of his hand grabbing the back of his head, pressing him into his neck and moaning as he came, his entire body tensing and bucking lightly.
Clint barely had time to appreciate it before he opened his mouth, teeth sinking into the tender flesh of Bucky’s neck in a primal need to mark him up. It wasn’t enough to break the skin, but it was definitely going to bruise, muffling the moan that he couldn’t contain. Every shot of cum that pumped into the condom had an accompanying grind of his hips, eliciting softer, sweeter noises from Bucky.
It was tough to keep track of time, but they finally both seemed to come back to themselves, realizing their bodies were still tangled up, still together. A sheepish little smile was the only acknowledgement Clint gave as he pulled away from Bucky’s neck, and slid out slowly. Thankfully the condom had endured, and it slipped off easily.
Like the last, he tied it off, tossing it into the trash to the side before looking down at Bucky with a soft smirk.
“Fuck Jamie… You’re so god damn pretty.”
Bucky was laying there, flushed and sweaty, certainly not his most attractive look. His shirt soaked through with his own cum, his hole still loose and frustratingly empty.
“I’m not–”
“Can I hold you?” Clint wasn’t going to listen to arguments, it seemed. When Bucky hesitated, he smiled “I’ll put my pants back on? No funny business, just… That was just about the best sex. Top five, easy.”
There was no hope to contain the little scoff that escaped Bucky. “Only top five?” Which just made Clint grin as he slipped off the bed, just to tug his pizza sleep pants back on, and then slide back into bed.
“Yeah, Don’t worry. I’ll do better next time. So… cuddles?”
Bucky was a little too struck by the casual mention of ‘next time’ to think beyond just nodding his head. Clint was careful as he settled into bed, tugging Bucky into him gently and simply wrapping an arm around him.
Exhaustion hit like a truck once he was settled in, listening to Clint’s heartbeat, listening to his breathing. It was easy, then, to just float.
He’d worry about falling asleep around a stranger later, question his own sanity in being able to relax. Maybe that was just what good sex could do.
After drifting off to sleep, which was surprising in and of itself, Bucky only barely stirred when the warm body against him shifted around.
“Jamie, baby, I’m so sorry. Work just called. I’ve got to go take care of an emergency.”
He wasn’t awake enough to fully process what he was hearing, just grumbling something before carefully rolling over onto his stomach and letting the voice drift out, softening to a whisper. He didn’t even register the sound of the door opening and closing as Clint eased out, cursing his job to high heaven. Hopefully Bucky would forgive him.
Alpine, however, let out a very irritated yowl at the front door once Clint had shut himself on the other side. It broke the blond’s heart, to hear such an upset noise from the sweet cat.
Bucky was less charitable, lifting his head up just enough to call out.
“Princess I’ll feed you all the salmon in the world when I get up just please let Daddy sleep.” Which seemed to pull Alpine’s attention away from the door. Now that the bedroom door was open, she’d pad in like she owned the place, hopping up onto his bed.
Two circles around to find the best spot, and she settled onto the pillow behind him, content to wait him out it seemed…
Bucky’s dreams were filled with splashes of yellow-blond hair, and flower blue eyes. And coffee. The scent of it rousing him slowly from a sleep deeper than he’d enjoyed in quite some time. It wasn’t the greatest feeling to wake up alone after falling asleep with someone in bed.
It also wasn’t the greatest to remember that he’d gotten cum all over his shirt and apparently just opted to sleep in it. Groaning just a little bit as his body made its displeasure at movement obvious, he had to roll over, a small groan leaving him when he sat up.
Triage time. There was no tolerating the sticky-crunchy feeling of dried cum on his shirt, so he tugged it off, grabbing a shirt off the floor. When it passed the sniff test, he tugged it on, and then grabbed a clean pair of underwear.
Someone had made coffee, and the thought of Clint and his absence filtered back into his awareness. Maybe…?
“C’mon Alpine. Let’s go see Clint.” He’d sit back down on the bed, and with a pleased little mrrowl from the presentation of her carriage, she’d stretch languidly.
Once she hopped up onto his shoulders, Bucky let her find her balance before he stood up, walking out of the bedroom with her comfortably perched there, her paws a pleasant bit of pleasure as he left his room.
Pushing his hand up his shirt to gently scratch at his chest, he finally took in the scene of his living room…
“Bucky, why were you asleep at four in the afternoon, with your door unlocked?” Not Clint then. Steve. The way Alpine’s purr practically died the moment she realized was almost comical.
“Holy shit, Barnes. Did you get in a fight with a vampire or something?” Sam too? It was too early, or late, or just too not the time to deal with both of them.
“Fuck off, Wilson. Steve it’s fine. This is a sixth floor walk up, if someone really wanted to steal my shit, they earned it.” Bucky could practically hear the impending arrival of Steve’s Disapproval Stare, but he didn’t care. Walking over to the kitchen, he just leaned to one side, letting Alpine gracefully hop onto the counter, before he poured himself some coffee.
“So did you have a point in coming over or was it just to make coffee and judge my life choices?” He took his first sip without even doctoring the brew. He needed the bitterness to turn and face his two friends.
“You texted Tasha that you were having someone over. And then you just. Vanished for like, ten hours.”
“Oh.” Okay, maybe they did have a point. But he wasn’t going to concede that easily. “Well, here I am. Alive.”
“I’m allowed to be worried, Buck, you’re my best friend.” Which just made Bucky roll his eyes. Setting his coffee down, he figured he should go grab his phone. Alpine immediately trailed after him back into his room. Tapping the button to check his notifications, he saw two texts from Nat. And one missed call.
The Natasha version of blowing up his phone. Unlocking it, he’d send a quick message.
Sorry Natasha, I’m alive. Steve and Sam are here.
Understood.
Oh. She was pissed. He’d make it up to her. She’d understand if he just shared some details. Walking back into the living room, he tossed his phone onto his counter. Alpine definitely needed to be rewarded.
“There, Nat’s updated. Can you go now? If I don’t feed Alpine the good stuff, she’s never going to forgive me.”
“Sure, as soon as you tell me where you got that shirt.” Steve couldn’t help it, he had to pick at him a little. He caught the way Bucky looked confused when he looked down at the shirt. A nonchalant shrug wasn’t going to be enough this time. “C’mon, Buck, you’ve gotta tell us about him.”
Steve brightened up when Bucky closed the distance towards him, his hand lifting up to gently cup the big blond’s cheek. A light pat, before Bucky simply said “No.” with a finality that made Sam snort a laugh. In the quiet moment that followed, Bucky’s phone chirped an unmistakable noise.
“...Is that a PeppR Notification?” Sam said with a grin, making a note of the way Bucky perked up, already reaching for his phone
“Shut up, Sam.” But when he pressed his thumb to his phone to unlock it, there was no denying the little bit of warmth in his chest as he saw the message.
HawkGuy: Sorry I had to bail, Terrible form. Katie can cover me for most of the stuff at work, but there was an emergency and she needed the extra hands.
HawkGuy: Also sorry about leaving my shirt, I think I stole one of yours on my way out? How about we meet for coffee tomorrow and I’ll apologize in person, and return your shirt? You can keep mine if you want, you know. Like an Apology-Shirt.
HawkGuy: That’s probably not a thing. But maybe we can make it a thing.
One Armed Bandit: Sure, Tomorrow. I don't know the neighborhood yet, but can we get coffee around lunch time?
HawkGuy: Aw yes, I know all the best spots! You’re the best, Jamie. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
“That him?” Steve’s voice oh so rudely intruded on the happy little moment of Bucky looking at his phone with a small smile.
“Shut it, Punk.” He’d shake his head a little bit, just rolling his eyes.
“That’s definitely him, Steve. You gonna tell us about him? You gonna see him again?” Sam had that bright eyed grin. Which he managed to keep even when Bucky stalked over to him, the power of his usual angry murder glare probably ruined by the fact that he was wearing the other guy’s shirt.
“Shut it, Sam.” But then he just dropped himself onto the couch, his stomach growling. “You guys can only stay if we order Chinese. I need a thousand egg rolls, and to not talk about Clint.”
“Aw, Buck, his name’s Clint?” Steve’s voice was syrupy on the edges, and Bucky groaned.
“I fucking swear, Steve…” And To his credit, Steve pantomimed zipping his lips before cracking a smile.
“Fine. But you can’t make a whole meal out of egg rolls, Bucky.” Sam was already pulling up his phone, no doubt placing an order.
“Watch me.” He’d lift one leg, kicking at Sam’s leg lightly. They were assholes, and he couldn’t stand the two of them. He’d never been more grateful for them.
“Dude, he left hickeys on your thighs?! You gotta cover those up man, Put some pants on or something.”
Okay, maybe he was feeling a little less grateful. But he still couldn't stop smiling, even as he and Alpine retreated back into his bedroom. Pants were a small price to pay for Chinese.