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Disclaimer: I don’t own Marvel comics or characters or movies, and am making no money off of this fic.
AN: Written for the July 26th Winterhawk Mandatory Fun Day prompt found here: https://mandatoryfunday.tumblr.com/post/186466278309/okay-winterhawklings-this-week-lets-think-what.
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Marforio by luvsanime02
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“Did you have an orgy without me?” Clint asks. He thinks it’s a reasonable question, considering that Clint arrived this morning at Tony’s beach house to find his boyfriend passed out naked on the patio.
Not that Clint’s complaining about the naked part, and Bucky’s covered his dick with a towel, at least. Bad place to get a sunburn. Clint would know, unfortunately.
Bucky doesn’t move his head, which is hanging off the patio and over the pool, but he does open his eyes just a little in order to peer up at Clint. He groans and quickly shuts them again, probably because now the sun’s shining in his eyes, and considering all of the empty beer bottles around him, that has to hurt.
He still looks like a fallen angel. Clint reaches down and snags Bucky’s speedo, which is hanging off of another beer bottle. “No, seriously,” Clint says, “did I miss an orgy? I thought Tony stopped having those kinds of parties a decade ago. Is this a relapse?”
Bucky sits up, eventually, still groaning, and Clint crouches down so that he can solemnly arrange the speedo on top of Bucky’s hair. Then he pulls out his phone and takes a picture. He should have done that earlier, when Bucky was still unconscious, but he makes sure to take a few now.
“No orgy,” Bucky mutters, his voice scratchy as hell. “Missed you.”
Clint fights unsuccessfully against the warmth that creeps up his neck at that declaration. Okay, so he doesn’t fight all that hard. “You’re cute,” he says, because that’s better than saying that he wants to suck Bucky’s dick. Not that he thinks Bucky would object, but Clint knows for a fact that Bruce is awake and sitting in the living room that’s right through the glass sliding doors. Bruce has never done anything bad to Clint, and doesn’t deserve to have his morning ruined by Clint going down on Bucky where he can see them.
Or maybe he’d be into it. Hard to tell with Bruce. Clint is trying to give himself reasons to be a good friend, though, and so he goes with the assumption that Bruce would not appreciate the show.
That, and Bucky looks like he needs a couple gallons of coffee and some tylenol right now. Clint waits until Bucky’s eyes open again, ignores the way that his eyelashes go on for miles, and gives him a hand up. Bucky at least has the presence of mind to grab the towel, and Clint’s not too proud to admit that he’s a little disappointed by that, and then Clint helps his hungover boyfriend stumble back into the house. With Bucky still wearing the speedo as a hat, of course.
Bruce has been joined by Steve and Sam, who both look like they’ve been up for a couple of hours and gone on a run already, gross. They make up for that, though, with their asshole smirks when they both catch sight of Bucky.
“Morning, sunshine,” Sam calls out loudly. Bucky flips him off without looking, and then sits down gingerly on a couch. No one comments on his lack of dress or his new headwear. Clint loves his friends, sometimes.
Especially when Bruce, of all people, silently hands Clint his phone, and Clint realizes he’s looking at a video from last night. The audio’s muted, but Clint doesn’t need sound in order to watch Bucky and Natasha playing strip poker and drinking together. Bucky’s clearly losing badly, which is all kinds of hilarious. He’s already down to just his socks and speedo, and looks like a man resigned to his fate but who is going down fighting, anyway.
Clint snickers. Bucky looks over at him with a frown, and Clint quickly hands Bruce’s phone back to him. “I want a copy of that,” he says.
Bruce nods in agreement. Steve leans forward, elbows on his knees and his attention directed at Bucky. “Want some juice, Buck?” he asks, keeping his voice low.
Bucky sits up and gives his childhood best friend a suspicious look. Steve still hasn’t lost the smirk, so Clint agrees that Bucky’s wariness is completely justified. “Coffee,” Bucky says, because he never turns down free food or drinks, or people willing to get them for him. Clint’s the same. “The hell are you being so nice for?”
Steve adopts a hurt look, but Sam ruins it by smiling. “He won the betting pool last night,” Sam reveals. “Got five hundred off of Stark.”
Clint whistles lowly. Nice.
“Some friend you are,” Bucky says. “You bet on my misery, which is fine - I knew I wasn’t going to win, anyway - but you could have at least cut me in, Steve.”
Steve shrugs, unrepentant, but he does get up and walk to the kitchen. Presumably for some juice. Clint sits next to his almost-naked boyfriend and enjoys when Bucky’s face cuddles into his neck. After another minute, he pulls out his phone to see that Bruce has already sent him the video.
Clint saves it to his cloud, of course. He’s never been someone to pass up good blackmail material.
