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The first time they sleep together, Clint worries it was a mistake. An adrenaline-fueled, post-mission mistake. Clint falls fast, and he falls hard, and he knows this about himself, but he couldn’t stop the flirting, especially not once Bucky started to reciprocate, smirking and winking and invading Clint’s space. And Clint knew his history, at least as far as Bucky Barnes was concerned. He knew Bucky had been a flirt and a ladies man, there was no way he was actually interested in Clint.
But then the mission. It wasn’t even that bad but there had been a couple close calls and Clint was way too keyed up to sit still once the quinjet was landed. Clint came out of the shower to find Bucky laying on his couch, hair still damp from his own shower. And Clint, well, Clint was helpless.
Clint ran his eyes up Bucky’s body, starting at his bare feet, his worn sweatpants pulled tight over his thighs. Bucky’s shirt was pulled up from the way he was laying, a sliver of skin visible. Bucky’s metal arm was tucked behind his head, pulling the shirt tight over his chest. Clint swallowed hard before finally looking at Bucky’s face, at the smirk pulling at his lips and the challenging look in his eyes.
And really, Clint was only human, so how could he resist?
It had been amazing. Life-changing. A huge mistake.
He collected his clothes, blushing at the look on Bucky’s face. It’s fine, he just needs to make sure it doesn’t happen again.
Easy.
***
After the fifth time they sleep together, Clint knows he’s in too deep.
It’s just, being with Bucky, being in his bed, Clint feels...content. The sun is shining on him making him feel pleasantly warm, his eyes closed against the light. He could stay here forever if it wasn’t for- well, if he wasn’t himself, damaged, broken.
Bucky traces the lines from Clint’s arm guard and Clint never wants to move again. Never wants a moment without Bucky touching him.
“You wear them just for show, don’t you?” Bucky asks.
Clint laughs, makes a joke, deflects. This is why he can’t have this. Bucky still thinks he fits in with superheroes and gods. But one day he’ll realize and he’ll leave. And even knowing it will break his heart, he pulls Bucky close and drifts.
Eventually, Clint knows he has to leave. He’s shocked when Bucky reaches out and whispers “stay,” feels his heart break because he knows what would happen, pulls away.
“I- I can’t. I’m sorry.”
And then he’s gone.
***
Bucky is avoiding Clint. He notices the next day when Bucky walks into the kitchen and immediately turns back.
This is for the best.
Clint maintains his self-control for a couple of days but he misses the feeling of Bucky’s hands on him, the way he looks with his hair spread on his pillow, the taste of him on his tongue.
Finally, he can’t take it anymore. He sees Bucky turn and race back to his room and before he knows it he’s racing up the stairs, silently thankful for the number of times he’s run up stairs on missions.
He makes it to Bucky’s room as he’s about to open his door.
“I thought I saw you take off.”
Bucky turns to look at him, as beautiful as ever and Clint feels his breath catch.
“Sorry. Tired. Couldn’t sleep last night.”
Clint knows the feeling. He hasn’t been able to get a good night’s sleep since the night he left Bucky's room. He blames lack of sleep for what he says next. “Yeah. Me neither. I’ve missed you.”
Bucky lifts his chin, a challenging look in his eyes. “I’m right here.” And Clint still can’t back down from a challenge. Before he knows it he’s stalking forward, pushing Bucky into the room.
As the door slams shut he thinks, Well, shit.
***
Bucky asks Clint to stay again.
He should have expected it but he doesn’t and as much as he wants to stay he can’t. Bucky can’t know how broken he really is.
It’s better now, at least. Bucky isn’t avoiding him anymore. They still hang out, watch TV, have trick shot competitions on the range, annoy Tony, cook, and save the world together.
And maybe Bucky isn’t great at hiding his disappointment, but Clint can handle people being disappointed in him, it’s the natural state of the universe. Maybe it hurts a little more coming from Bucky but it’s nothing Clint can’t handle.
It’s fine.
***
It’s not fine.
The fourth time Clint tells Bucky no he kisses the pout from Bucky’s lips. The eighth time, his frown is almost enough to make Clint stay. The eleventh time, though, Bucky starts crying.
“Hey, no,” Clint says, trying not to panic. “Don’t do that. Bucky, please don’t cry. Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Why? Why won’t you stay?” Bucky sniffles and Clint feels his heart break into a million tiny pieces.” “I know- I know we said just friends. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to, okay? I just...I just want you to stay. Please stay.”
“I-” Clint doesn’t know how to handle this. Bucky might hate Clint when he finds out he’s been lying but Clint will hate himself if he just leaves Bucky here to cry. “Okay. Fine, okay. I’ll stay. I just- Let me grab some stuff from my room, okay? I- Fine. Fuck. Just please stop crying? Please. I don’t want you to be upset.”
Bucky sniffs again, wiping his tears and nodding. “Okay. I’m okay. Go ahead. I’m gonna shower.”
Clint nods, running from the room without even bothering to grab his pants. He runs through the hallway, dodging Steve and Natasha before tripping over Tony, landing in a sprawl on the floor.
“Watch where you’re-” Tony stops talking abruptly. “Why aren’t you wearing any clothes?”
Clint jumps to his feet, ready to take off again, but Steve moves to block his path. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Can’t talk, gotta go.” Clint tries to edge around him but Steve widens his stance, taking up more of the hallway. Clint eyes the wall, trying to decide if he can scale it enough to get past Steve. It’s not looking good, but Bucky was still crying when he left and he needs to get back.
Desperation mounting, Clint turns to Natasha, eyes pleading. “Nat, please.”
Natasha eyes him for a moment, eyes lingering on the marks on Clint’s collarbone. She nods decisively before grabbing Steve’s arm and pulling him to the side.
Clint takes off again then. Bucky will be waiting for him.
***
Clint rushes back in, holding his toiletries bag, still in his boxers. Bucky is no longer crying, thank fuck. He’s sitting in bed, hair dripping. Clint can’t keep himself from kissing him.
“It’s not because I didn’t want to,” he whispers, hoping Bucky understands before retreating to the bathroom. Maybe he can take care of this without Bucky noticing.
He turns the shower on and opens his bag before reaching for his eye.
“What the fuck are you doing!?” he hears suddenly, causing him to jump and poke himself in the eye.
“Ah, fuck,” he complains, holding his eye. “Fuck, shit, oh my god.”
“Shit, are you okay?” Bucky asks, clearly trying not to panic. “What the fuck?”
Bucky leads Clint to sit on the closed toilet.
“Clint, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
Clint glares, still clutching at his other eye.
“It’s my contact lens, asshole. Don’t you knock?” The pain is fading slowly and Clint blinks his eye open, wincing at the bright light of the bathroom.
“I did knock, asshole,” Bucky says.
Bucky tries to come closer but Clint pushes him away. He’s fine, it’s not the first time it’s ever happened, but it still stings.
“Wait, what?” Bucky asks.
“You heard me,” Clint mutters, standing back up. He can’t see the mirror because it’s fogged up but he doesn’t really need to, reaching back up to take his contacts out. “I can’t see all that great, Buck,” he explains. “And no one knew, up until now, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go around telling everyone that the great Hawkeye is blind as a bat without glasses.”
Bucky is quiet for a second. “You have glasses?!”
Here it comes. Now Bucky knows he’s not going to want anything to do with Clint, useless without contacts and hearing aids, definitely not fit to be a superhero.
“Wait,” Bucky continues. “Is this why you wouldn’t stay over? You didn’t want me to know that you don’t have perfect vision?”
Bucky is going to tell Steve, who is going to tell Tony, who will tell the rest of the team. They’ll try to be gentle about it but they’re not going to want him on the team anymore once they realize what a liability he is.
“Is this why you never open your eyes in the morning? And never make your own coffee? How the hell-?” Bucky starts laughing. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking dumb.”
Clint can take a lot, but Bucky laughing while Clint’s life is destroyed right in front of him is something he can’t handle.
“Oh, great, yeah,” he starts, letting anger take over. “I’m blind and deaf and dumb, I get it. I hit the trifecta of fucked up. Add depressed to that-” but he doesn’t get to finish, Bucky’s hand covering his mouth.
“You really are fucking dumb,” Bucky says, and Clint feels himself deflate. “But you’re dumb because you think that you’re any less capable because of any of those things, first of all. How many times do I have to tell you this? Bird brain. You’re fine. You’re perfect. You’ve got contacts and hearing aids and antidepressants. So what? My whole arm is made of vibranium.”
Maybe Bucky isn’t going to dump him after all.
He nips at Bucky’s hand and he knows he’s pouting but he can’t help it. “But your thing is cool,”
Bucky pushes himself up so his eyes are level with Clint’s. “I bet you look like a hot dad in your glasses,” he says.
Clint fakes gagging, but can’t hold in his smile. “I hate you. Did you know that? I can’t stand you.”
Bucky presses their foreheads together. “I think you love me.”
And well, Clint can’t deny that. “And what if I do?” he asks, stomach flipping.
“Then maybe I do, too.”