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Disclaimer: I don’t own Marvel comics or characters or movies, and am making no money off of this fic.
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Bush Territory by luvsanime02
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Alright, so Bucky just tripped over nothing and fell into a bush. Okay, that’s fine, no problem. Bucky’s not at all embarrassed, because he can hardly be blamed for forgetting how walking works when he just ventured out into Natasha’s backyard and saw that.
Even better, the incredibly gorgeous guy standing in Natasha’s backyard and firing arrows at a target doesn’t turn around, which means Bucky can ogle him some more. Normally, he’d try to pretend that he has at least some manners, but really, he can’t help it this time. The guy is mostly naked, for one thing, wearing only tight boxer briefs that leave nothing to the imagination.
Bucky’s throat is dry, but he can’t clear it without drawing the hot guy’s attention, so he just suffers silently, staring at the guy’s dick. He’s never really been all that big on giving blowjobs, personally, but damn, does he want to give this guy one. Like, right this second. It doesn’t help that the guy is chiseled and tan, and his back muscles clench every time he draws his bow, and Bucky is dying here.
Maybe he’s already dead? That would probably explain the wet dream standing in his friend’s backyard, firing arrows at a target in the early morning hours while wearing only tight, tight underwear and nothing else, and does he not care that this is the suburbs? He could be arrested for indecent exposure.
He should be arrested, for being that hot. Maybe then Bucky could get his brain to come back online. He’s only been out of the army for five days - he’s not entirely sure that this isn’t all just one big hallucination. Bucky doesn’t know if he could imagine something quite like this, though.
The guy looks perfectly focused on the target, his stance confident and almost lazy, and Bucky really needs to tear his eyes away from the guy’s dick now.
“Enjoying the view?” Natasha asks in his ear.
Bucky does not yelp. Instead, he freezes where he’s still crouched in the bushes and hopes that if he’s very, very still, Natasha will take pity on him and go back inside. Then again, Bucky doubts that Natasha’s ever taken pity on anybody in her whole life.
He nods slowly, because there’s no point in denying that he’s been sitting in this bush and staring at this guy for the past however many minutes. An hour? Bucky doesn’t know and doesn’t care. He also doesn’t bother turning to look at Natasha, knowing that she’s amused from the tone of her voice alone.
“You have some leaves in your hair,” she points out, but doesn’t reach over to touch him. Bucky nods again, but doesn’t much care about that, either.
Sometime later, five minutes or five hours, Natasha shoves a mug of coffee in front of Bucky’s nose. His hand comes up and grabs the cup automatically, but his attention never wavers from the absolute god hanging out in Natasha’s backyard. Who the hell is he, and why hasn’t Bucky met him before now? He takes a sip of the coffee, burns his tongue, and doesn’t even really notice the pain. He wants to lick that guy’s abs.
Natasha climbs into the bush and sits down beside him, clearly recognizing that Bucky isn’t moving anytime soon. It’s a nice bush, Bucky supposes. Spacious, and no thorns are digging into his flesh. As far as bushes go, it’s almost homey.
“His name is Clint,” Natasha says after a few moments of more silence. “He’s my roommate. He’s been out of town for a few days. You’ll be seeing a lot of him from now on.”
“Seeing a lot of him right now,” Bucky points out, finally speaking. His voice is raspy as hell.
Natasha leans against Bucky, and her shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. “Well, at least someone’s around now to appreciate the show,” she concedes. “It’s wasted on me.”
Natasha, being gay and in a happy, committed relationship with the only other woman Bucky’s ever met who’s as terrifying as she is, is understandably completely unaffected by the really hot guy wearing only his underwear while standing in her backyard. Their backyard, apparently. That is a terrible waste, Bucky agrees.
“Happy to help,” he says, his voice not sounding any better than last time, and the two of them stay sitting in the bushes for a while longer. Eventually, the hot guy - Clint - is going to turn around and notice them, if he hasn’t already, and probably want to know what they’re doing peeping on him from the bushes. Bucky should probably be worrying about what he’ll say, or be embarrassed at the idea of getting caught.
His coffee’s cool enough to drink now, and Natasha is a comforting presence at his side, and nowhere during Bucky’s tour did he ever encounter a hot archer standing around in the almost-buff, so at least this is giving Bucky something different to think about this morning than the usual shit.
If Bucky hasn’t been thinking about getting shot at because he’s too busy thinking about a hot guy’s dick, then at least that’s something. Bucky will take what he can get here. Especially hot guy Clint and his dick.