Chapter Text
It was a movie night, they were watching a historical movie and Clint got so caught up in the suspense that he didn't notice he's started picking at the scab on his ankles. Bucky was sitting on the sofa next to him, getting more and more frustrated about it.
"It's gonna bleed, Clint"
"Huh?" Clint said absent-mindedly, his eyes still glued to the screen.
"Your leg. You're picking at it", Bucky whispered, carefully not to disturb the whole team, especially Steve, who clearly was even more into this movie than Clint.
"Oh, yeah. It's a thing I have. Don't worry if it bleeds I'll just put some band-aids on later"
Bucky didn't seem so sure, still he dropped it at that. But then Clint started to pick on a very stubborn scab that wouldn't come off, making constant little ‘tick’ sounds. The sound was barely audible, but hey, superhearing. Bucky exhaled loudly, slipping a (flesh) hand in Clint's lap, grabbing his hand.
"Shut up"
Clint startled, looked at their hands joined together on his thigh, his mouth hanging open as if ready to say something about it, but decided against it in the end. They went back to watch the movie in silence.
***
The morning after that, Bucky found Natasha before her morning gym routine. He was just curious about Clint's picking, that's all.
"He does that a lot, mostly when he's bored or not concentrated or too concentrated in something. Sometimes he doesn't even realize he's doing it. I tried to get him to stop before, but it's like telling him to go decaf."
"Is it like, an addiction?"
"I'm not sure. But he gets grumpy about it, so I don't push, just get him band-aids", she crossed her arms . "If you can fix it, well, I'll own you one, James"
"I'm not – if you can't do it how can I?"
"You seem to have different method", Natasha cocked one eyebrow, "I didn't see Clint protest last night"
***
Bucky hasn't decided to take on this Stop-Clint-From-Picking mission (SCFP for short) yet, but it wouldn't hurt to do some research right? He typed "skin picking" and google autocompleted it with "disorder". So it could be a serious thing then. He skimmed through a few articles, saw some nasty pictures, watched some youtube videos. They call it dermatillomania, kinda like a form of OCD?? Bucky only knew as much about Clint's "thing" as what Nat told him, so he's not sure if it's a disorder or just a bad habit, but he found some treatment tips, too. Then he stumbled on an article telling him not to try to fix it, since pointing out the problem would only make Clint feel ashamed about it.
But Bucky likes being helpful, okay? After everything with the Winter Soldier, he just wants to do good, and as long as he stays in this tower, he wants to be useful. And he felt pretty good being helpful last night, just holding Clint's hand to stop his picking. It felt nice.
Ugh. Maybe he should ask Clint directly. At least he had to know if he needed his help, otherwise he'd be annoying.
***
Clint got out of his room just as Natasha came back from the gym. Now done with his research, Bucky was helping Bruce flipping pancakes in the kitchen. Seeing Clint bee-lining to the kitchen, Bucky held out his Hawkeye coffee mug.
"Thank fucks you're here". Clint downed the mug in one gulp.
"He's talking to the coffee, not you, James"
"Oh no don't put words in my mouth, Nat, I'm glad Bucky's here too", Clint snapped back, "Who else would I trust to get me my sweet life juice first thing in the morning, eh?"
"Well, me?"
"YOU POISONED ME NAT! I WOULDN'T LET YOU NEAR MY COFFEE EVER AGAIN!!"
"That was just one time and you're still here, fresh and alive, right?"
"I WAS PARALYZED FOR A WEEK!"
"You need to let it go, Hawkeye"
Nat reached for her pancake just as Sam and Steve came back from their running. Bucky handed out pancakes for everyone, a series of thanks was thrown his and Bruce's way.
"These pancakes look flipping delicious, Buck", Clint licked his lips cartoonishly
"Bruce made it, I just give him a hand"
"You don't have a lot of those, dude, don't give it out so freely", Clint said between his chewing.
Bucky stopped short. Did it mean Clint was annoyed that he stopped him from picking last night? Is he being annoying getting his nose in others' business? Should he drop SCFP afterall?
He realized Clint was looking at him with a hint of concern and guilt. "Dude, I'm sorry. Shouldn't joke about that. I thought you were ... punning with me? Guess not. Sorry about that. Now please say something or Steve will kill me for my insensitiveness"
Bucky snapped out of his frowning look. "No. Totally pun intended for that one. I was just thinking about this stuff", he took a deep breath, "Can I talk to you later?"
"Me? Uh, sure?" He didn't look so sure. "I didn't upset you, did I?", Clint squeaked.
"Of course not. Now eat"
"You boys are so adorable", Nat squinted at them amusedly.
***
After breakfast, Steve’s beaten Bucky to wash the dishes, and everyone has gone off to do their own thing, so that left him with Clint in the common room right now.
"I just want to ask you about, um, your skin picking thing."
"Oh". It sounded like a bad 'oh'. Bucky braced himself, but Clint just lowered his voice. "Sorry if it bothered you last night. Sometimes I don't even know what I’m doing"
"No it’s fine, I understand. But – do you want me to help you?"
Clint hesitated for a second. "Help how?"
"I did some researches and –", Bucky cursed himself, now Clint would think he's been thinking about that a lot, so much for not making him feel conscious, "they got some tips to treat your uh, habit."
"Bucky, you don't have to do this. I'm mostly fine I swear!"
"I know I just – I just want to be helpful". Maybe this was a bad idea after all. He should stop worrying about other people’s problems. He hoped Clint wouldn't hate him for it. "Or maybe I should leave you alone"
Clint was quick to stop him before he walked away. "No, I mean, yesterday you kinda help a lot?", Clint touched his arm reassuringly. "How about this, we'll make a deal, okay? If you see me zoning out and picking, maybe just, ground me back?"
Bucky is no stranger to the whole grounding thing. When he first moved in the towers, Steve was his grounding buddy, hugging him just a bit extra hard to remind him where he was when things were getting too much. Soon, everyone jumped on that train, bumping and shoving and poking and sometimes hugging him, too, and suddenly casual touch is just something that Bucky has no problem with. He has his friends now.
And friends help each other, right?
"Deal". And then just in case, he asked "What you don't want me to do?"
"Uhhhhhhhhh, I hate it when someone points it out when I'm in the middle of it. Like, "Stop picking. Stop that. It's gross", like that. It only makes me pick faster. Look, Buck, I know it’s a problem, okay? I know it’s gross, but it’s hard to quit and I don’t know –"
"It’s fine, I won't judge."
"Thanks a lot, Buck. You’re cool to do this"