Chapter 1: Cooking Dinner
Go home. Take the week. Rest up and slow down.
Steve’s orders had been pretty clear, and honestly Clint wasn’t about to argue. He was exhausted . They'd been trying to track down Bruce again, he'd pulled another Houdini and since he and Natasha had been the ones to pinpoint his location last time, they'd been set the task again. This time it was more a personal favour for Tony than a mission from a since disbanded government agency. Clint wouldn't track anyone for the government anymore anyway.
He collapsed on the couch as soon as he was home, groaning as he sunk into the cushions and his body relaxed. He didn’t even protest when Lucky jumped up and used his legs as a bed and his butt as a pillow. This is where he was going to live the rest of his life now.
Clint didn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have. When he lifted his head again he was faintly aware of a chopping sound, and the lights in the loft had been turned on. The setting sun was still producing some light through the large windows, but it would be dark soon. Lucky had gotten off his legs.
With a groan he sat up, his whole body stiff from the position he’d been lying in. Joints cracked and popped as he shook himself out when he stood up finally.
Bucky was in the kitchen chopping vegetables.
“When did you get back?” Clint hummed, still sleepy from his nap. He found his way into the kitchen and heavily leaned against Bucky, resting his chin on his shoulder.
“I got here an hour ago. I’ve been back for an obscene number of hours being kept away in debriefing.”
“Your intel, as always, was impeccable.”
Clint hummed and turned to press his face into the crook of Bucky’s neck as he continued to chop the vegetables. He was working on mushrooms, but there were piles for broccoli, bean sprouts, green peppers, and a half clove of garlic.
“I’m not making anything.” Bucky retorted, pausing long enough to lean his head against Clint’s briefly in a show of affection. “You promised me a home cooked meal when I got back, I’m just preparing the food for you. Since you were sleeping the day away.”
“Not the whole day.” Clint huffed, lifting his head and stepping back from Bucky to go grab a pot, “Just some of it. Steve’s order’s anyway. Take the week, Barton.” He said in a mock Steve-like voice, “Get some rest, you could use it.”
“You don’t sound anything like Steve.”
Bucky laughed and set down his knife, done with his part of making dinner. Clint dumped the garlic, green peppers, and broccoli into the pot and set it on the stove.
“I got the same speech. Well, probably similar. Steve loves his speeches.”
“He’s basically Jeff Winger.” Clint snorted, turning the element on and moving around Bucky who was now standing around idly, leaning against the counter and just watching Clint.
“He’s the guy from Community, right?”
“Heeeey, look at you getting my pop culture references. I’m so proud.” Clint teased, pressing a quick kiss to Bucky’s cheek as he moved past him again to add some soy sauce into the pot and mix around the contents. “You forgot carrots.”
“You and carrots don’t mix, and I still sleep here.”
“That just means they’re good for you, Bucky. And you don’t hear me complain when you stink up the apartment.”
“No, you don’t hear you complain because when you mutter under your breath you can’t hear yourself making noises.”
The was a pause, then Clint laughed. “Touché.”
Bucky hopped up on the counter, watching Clint add water and soup stock and the rest of the veggies to the pot and set it to simmer for a while. He smiled when Clint turned to look at him.
“So. Valentine’s Day is coming up.” He said as he approached Bucky. He settled himself between his legs, hands on his thighs. “And we have the whole week off. If not more. I’m gonna send Steve some flowers.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t intentional.”
“I’m sure you’re wrong.” Clint hummed, leaning in to kiss Bucky again.
Bucky didn’t argue the point, smiling slightly into the kiss and using his legs to pull Clint a little closer and keep him there. It had been weeks since they’d seen each other, the mission they were both on the thing that had kept them apart. Bucky, as it turned out, was highly tactile once he warmed up to a person. Clint, luckily, was very receptive to this, which was a very good match for the both of them.
“If you don’t let me go soon, the soup will boil over.” Clint said after a few minutes. Bucky had his legs hooked around Clint’s and his arms around his shoulders, but it wasn’t like Clint was very quick to pull away from where he was with his arms snug around Bucky’s middle.
“That would be unfortunate. You promised me dinner.”
“You’re a pain in the ass.” Clint grumbled as he managed to wiggle his way free from Bucky to go add the noodles to the soup.
“Ah, there it is. Now you sound like Steve.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
Chapter 2: Stargazing
Bucky has a bad day. Clint does actually know when to shut up. Lucky gets a bath.
Hahaha, I'm not panicking because I have 6 more chapters to write in 7 days on top of working on my Winterhawk Mini Bang.
I can do this. Leave me nice comments to help. Also this is unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own because what is proof reading.
It was around 10:30 at night when Clint finally gave up on waiting for Bucky to come down. He hadn’t seen him all day, but he had gotten a text from Aimee that she’d seen him skulking around on the roof when she was coming back from her bike ride. Clint had wanted to wait for him to come back but it was getting late.
It was a miracle that he managed to drag up two lawn chairs, a case of beer, and Lucky all the way up to the roof while trying to simultaneously pull a jacket on. Sure enough Bucky was pacing around the edge. He paused long enough to look at Clint then continued his round. Clint set up the lawn chairs, plopped himself down and cracked a can of beer. Lucky followed Bucky around for a couple laps around the roof, but was soon to join Clint, flopping down on the ground at his feet.
When Clint had opened his third beer, Bucky had finally come to sit beside him. Lucky groaned and rolled over onto his back.
They didn’t speak for a while. Clint wiggled himself lower in his seat, tipping his head back and looking up at the sky. He could catch the occasional glimpse of stars between the clouds. There was a warm breeze. The sound of idle chatter and traffic drifted up from the streets surrounding them. It was peaceful. A bit of a chill had set in but it was unseasonably warm and Clint could deal with something in the high twenties for this.
Bucky nudged his knee against Clint’s. Clint lifted his head and offered a smile. “Ready to head in?”
“Maybe.” Bucky replied. “In a few minutes.”
Clint nodded, slouched back and looked back up at the sky. Bucky followed suit soon after, letting out a long, tired sigh. Without a word Clint reached his hand out, slowly twining his fingers with Bucky’s. Bucky looked over at Clint and smiled.
“You’re going to have to give Lucky a bath now.”
“You’re the worst.”