Archive of Our Own ^beta

Clint woke up with a rock digging into his lower back. He mentally went over his body and, yup, he was sore from sleeping on the hard uneven ground that Bucky made them camp because it was the only place far away enough from the road, Clint. Honestly, Clint still wondered sometimes why he was still traveling with this idiot, like right now. Then he opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of Bucky packing up their things and just the sight of his stupid frown on his stupid face had Clint thumping down on the wave of affection that wanted to crawl out of him.

He had to close his eyes again and pretend to be asleep in order to get his emotions in check before he could get up and go through the day next to Bucky. They were just outside the Nistaram Forest where they had heard about a Vuldodalk running free in the previous town and were edging dangerously close to Clint’s village.

It wasn’t that Clint didn’t want to go home, what with Nat’s birthday just a few days away, he just didn’t know what to think about bringing Bucky with him. That isn’t to say that he hadn’t thought about it, because he had, in extensive detail. But every scenario had started and ended with Bucky being more to him than just his traveling companion.

They had begun traveling together after encountering each other during a mission gone wrong in Shojin. They were both trying to save a Seer that had wandered off the monastery grounds while not knowing of each other’s presence or the rabid wolf that was waiting for all three of them. After a few moments of banter and a few chosen words, they finally realized what they had gotten themselves into and just barely managed to put down the wolf but not before it had slashed its’ ugly nails into the Seer’s torso.

It was a gruesome sight and Clint could still feel a little nauseous if he thought about it too much. Over his last breaths, the Seer had given them a single message that stuck with them to this day. They were to be together for the rest of their time. As he didn’t really have time to specify what exactly he meant by together they had taken it to mean that they would travel with an extra body from now on.

It wasn’t easy at first, sharing his space and things with another person that he didn’t really know only because a Seer told him to. But Bucky having graduated from the Hirana Academy with the highest honors, as he would later like to remind Clint every second he was awake, he took what the Seer said rather seriously and stuck to Clint’s side like a leech that wouldn’t budge off so Clint decided to keep him.

That, and he wasn’t too hard on the eyes.

The inconvenient feelings had started after Clint had already accepted waking up at an ungodly hour to stretch and practice with Bucky, one of the many annoying habits that have managed to make him even more appealing to Clint’s heart. He could still remember that first quickening of his heart as Bucky smirked at him while cleaning his sword. A ritual he had every night before laying on his bedroll that had become a gentle meditative time for both of them.

It was spring somewhere in Ionia and they had stopped to camp early enough for the sun to still be up. They were under the shadows of some big trees Clint never learned the name of and in front of them stretched a meadow filled with purple and pink and yellow flowers and Clint was a little overwhelmed with the gentle breeze brushing through his hair and the methodical thump of Bucky cleaning his sword and the softness he felt take root in his chest.

He, of course, decided to ignore it and go pick only the purple flower because purple was the best color and no pink or yellow would ever best it. And as he was coming back to the camp he decided to be a dick and stuff some of the flowers into Bucky’s pack without him realizing and just picturing his annoying face at all the petals between his shirts made Clint grin mischievously.

Before he could execute his plan though Bucky turned around to check on him, having already finished with his sword and having it seated in front of him, his hair loose around his shoulders for once and out of his armor, a single sunray falling perfectly between the tree leaves and landing just so on Bucky’s face that made his eyes almost sparkle and Clint actually thought he was cursed when Bucky smiled at him from their camp because there was no way his heart was beating at a normal rate. And that can only be the work of a mage.

Clint stared at him for just a second too long trying to catch his breath while still trying to comprehend all the impossible beauty of his traveling companion. And Clint had never been a poet but, fuck.

From that point on Clint resolutely ignored every and all of such feelings towards Bucky. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to act on them or was ashamed of them but Bucky had never indicated wanting anything more than what they already had and Clint wouldn’t lose that in the off chance that he could get what he wanted. Besides, his feelings were easy to ignore as long as Bucky didn’t smile at him, or smirk, or talk in that still sleepy voice early in the morning, or practice shirtless with his sword, or look at Clint for too long.

Clint had everything totally under control, that’s why after a few calming breaths he could get up to fix his own bedroll and focus on getting through the day and defeating the Vulkodalk so the townsfolk could trudge through the forest again without fear of getting mauled by the beast.

They had a quiet breakfast before stretching a little and packing their things on their horses and taking them slightly closer to the forest but not close enough for the Vulkodalk to smell them and come for them. After securing them there they moved further into the forest to find the perfect place for their attack. They worked silently side by side and it always amazed Clint a little how in sync they were with each other.

Clint found a tree high enough to be able to see several yards on all sides of the forest and low enough to be able to jump down from it if it was necessary. While Bucky moved further into the forest not even sparing a glance behind him, already knowing Clint was ready for when he needed him.

Clint kept an eye on Bucky while looking for the Vulkodalk in the rest of the forest. And even up, on his tree, he first heard the beast run towards them and then saw it head straight towards Bucky. A tingle of anxiety passed through him for a moment before Bucky started running back in Clint’s direction and he took a steadying breath.

Clint waited long enough for the beast to be almost right under the tree he was perched on before knocking an arrow on his bow and yelling to be heard over its’ roaring “Hey, ugly!” before securing the beast’s attention and jumping off the tree and releasing the arrow while he was still in the air.

All in all, it should have been the prettiest shot he had done in a while if it wasn’t for the beast’s apparent lack of pain and any will to let them have an easy kill this time. Clint was still up in the air, mentally calibrating with how much force he would hit the ground and how exactly to twist so he could somersault and land on his feet when five big claws swung towards him and got close enough to rip his armor and scratch his skin.

The force of them pushed him to land on the ground hard on his back and he made a punched out sound, his vision blurring. He faintly heard Bucky screaming his name and then growling loud enough to match the monster they were trying to take down before surrendering to not being able to understand his surroundings for a little while. He felt safe enough with Bucky this close to him and having already provided him with a distraction Clint had no doubt that he would take care of the Vulkodalk.

Next thing Clint knew Bucky was kneeling over him, the lines around his eyes tight with worry and his mouth set in a firm line. Clint groaned touching over his ribs where the beast had gotten the lucky hit and felt warm blood run down his fingers. Bucky’s eyes immediately went where Clint’s hand was and he growled again before pressing against Clint’s hand and over the wound while Clint groaned again.

“Keep it there and don’t move,” Bucky snarled before getting up and running to their horses. Clint tried to hold his hand in place so he could put pressure on the wound and not let any more blood come out but it was getting harder the more light-headed he became.

When Bucky came back to him after a few moments he tilted a vial Clint knew was one of the healing potions they were saving for when things got really bad into his mouth and took out his sewing kit with the other hand. Clint hated the taste of those potions but risking a murderous glare from Bucky he swallowed it all down tried to free himself of his armor. Bucky growled at him again before helping him with it, being surprisingly gentle for the number of growls he had already given Clint that day.

Bucky prepared his needle and thread and scowled, surprisingly remorsefully, at Clint before starting to stitch him up. Clint gritted his teeth and held still as much as he could, the healing potion helping to numb the pain a little but he still found himself holding his breath for the parts that were particularly painful he wanted to punch Bucky a little in the face. But he liked his face too much to do that.

When he was finished Bucky sighed, releasing a breath as if he was the one being stitched closed, and cut off the remaining of the thread before stilling Clint with a look that promised a lot of yelling towards his person later in the day when he wasn’t lying in a pool of his own blood. Bucky gathered the supplies he had brought from the horses and Clint’s ruined armor and took it back to load on the horses.

Clint was sure he wouldn’t be able to move too much with the stitches along his side and tried to see if he could find a spot they could camp nearby. Just as he caught sight of a clearing far enough that they wouldn’t smell the dead Vulkodalk and it wasn’t far enough that he was afraid to tear his stitches if he walked to it, Bucky came back with both horses in one hand and holding the other out to Clint.

Clint took it with a grateful smile and took care to not lean all his weight onto Bucky while he was still holding the horses but Bucky huffed at him, with something close to exasperation, and looped the arm that was holding Clint up around his waist. It was hardly the first time they had to touch because Clint injured himself unreasonably but something about feeling Bucky’s warm hand against his naked skin always set Clint on edge and having to fight off the urge to just cuddle closer to him.

That didn’t mean he always won over the urge. And having an injury that made it hard to walk just gave his brain enough motive to lean just a little bit more on Bucky’s shoulder than he would otherwise let himself and bask on the warmth of his body so close to him even under all the layers of his armor. Clint pointed Bucky towards the clearing, in the shade of a few big trees that would keep the sun at bay during the day and they could light a little fire at night for warmth.

Bucky first led Clint towards a couple of roots that were peeking out from the ground and would make enough of a support system so Clint wouldn’t have to put any weight on his abs and risk the stitches. After he laid Clint out and made sure he would stay there and not try to help with anything else Bucky went to take care of the horses and unpack what they would need for the night before starting to make the fire pit. They still had a few hours of sunlight and it wouldn’t get cold enough for fire until after the sun was out.

Next, Bucky took Clint’s ruined armor from the saddle of his horse and clean cloth that he made damp with a little water and tried to get off as much blood as he could without actually ruining the leather. He gave up after a while and hung it up on a tree branch to dry, sighing. Clint needed to buy new armor anyway, this one was getting old and soft in places. Bucky took a couple of pieces of dried meat from one of their packs before settling down next to Clint and passing one off to him.

They sat in companionable silence for a bit just eating the tasteless meat and staring at the patterns the sun rays made as they passed through the leaves of the trees above them. Clint felt soft and relaxed with the effects of the potion still clinging to him, the sun on his face, and Bucky next to him. He slid down further on the forest ground and contemplated taking a nap, trying to convince himself that his neck wouldn’t hurt if he slept leaning on the tree roots for just a little while. Bucky stood up beside him and he realized at some point he had closed his eyes, already surrendering to sleep before opening them to watch where Bucky was going.

He took one of their packs in hand and balled it up until it resembled something close to a pillow and came back over to Clint, gently lifting his head off the tree root and placing the pack under it. Huh, Clint hadn’t thought of that. He burrowed further down on the pack trying to get comfortable and sent a soft smile up at Bucky, which may be let too many of the things he was feeling show on his face.

Bucky, who was still standing over him, smiled back, that soft tiny smile he got sometimes when he looked at Clint and thought Clint hadn’t noticed and ran a hand through his hair. The gesture made Clint’s insides glow and he leaned into the touch, balming the healing potion and his almost nap for how much he was putting on display for Bucky to see.

Bucky, to his credit, seemed to take it all in stride and just continued to scratch softly at Clint’s scalp until he was almost asleep again before one final pet and then whispered softly, “I’m gonna go get the horn,” Clint just barely registered his voice and just grunted in reply before slipping into unconsciousness and in a world where Bucky was stroking his hair every day just because he wanted to.

A couple of hours later Clint woke up slowly from his nap, his bedroll draped over him, with the effects of the healing potion sadly absent but not enough pain to render him useless for more than half a day. They could get back on the road by then and possibly even find someone to have a use of the Vulkodalk horn. He strictly didn’t think about which direction they were going to resume in and how close they could end up to his village.

Instead, he focused on the sweet smell of fresh meat roasting over the fire that Bucky was crouched in front of. He must have gone and hunted a couple of rabbits while Clint was still asleep and something warm bloomed in Clint’s chest at the gesture. He felt soft and hazy all over again, watching the back of Bucky’s head while he got their dinner ready, as he stretched his arm over his head, enough to pop his back but not enough to break his stitches.

They hadn’t had a day that relaxed in a long while. And even if the reason behind it was his injury, it was nice to have a day to themselves and take it easy for once. It wouldn’t last more than that day either way, since they would be able to take out his stitches the next day and keep moving around. He looked around the peaceful scene, taking in the still forest and listening to the sounds of the animals nearby. The only thing that could probably have made the day even better would be a nice tankard of ale.

Something purple caught his eye in his peripheral vision and he turned his head to see the same purple blooms he had picked that fateful spring day that came with recognizing how gone he was on the man in front of him. A wistful smile swept over his face as he picked the single flower again to bring it up to his face and smell the sweet smell. He wasn’t about to get sappy just because they were going to have dinner in the middle of a forest but the flower was a nice reminder of the soft days in his life.

He put the flower in his pocket so he could keep it just a little longer and before he even let go of it he could feel the sick sense in his stomach that came when something went really wrong, ruining his peaceful day. The next second a boy that looked no more than ten years old with curly brown hair and a smile splitting his face in half that would only give Clint nightmares came out from behind a tree.

“Aw, fairies, no,” Clint called immediately, watching the vines that were carved into the boy’s face go from blue to green and then settle into a combination of the two, as dread coiled in the pit of his stomach. Bucky looked up from where he was focused on cooking the meat and his eyes traveled from the fae boy and back to Clint a few times before he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

The boy seemed to light up even more as he came out of his hiding place, a flare of sprouts following behind him, and circled their camp before coming and standing in front of Clint again. His eyes shining a worrisome green of leaves getting hit by sun rays. He bit his bottom lip showing two sharp fangs displaying the amount of danger they were in if they so chose to be. Clint tried not to linger on that as he stilled, bracing himself for whatever the boy was about to ask of them.

Bucky abandoned the food, setting close to the fire but not on it so it wouldn’t burn, and coming over to Clint, settling in front of him in a clear move to shield him from the fae boy. Clint didn't know how much good that would do when apparently the fae had them already exactly where he wanted them, but he didn’t complain. Clint could tell that Bucky’s stance screamed attack and defend at any opportunity with how tense his body was and he prayed to gods he didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t have to fight a fae on his own, no matter how old the boy may look.

“Greetings, your Majesty.” Even though the way Bucky held his body screamed danger from every nerve, you wouldn’t know it from his voice. He managed it into a calm and collected even tone that he would use to the highest of Kings. Clint didn’t know anything about fae politics and he wasn’t that eager to learn but even he could tell it would be a lot worse to get caught by just an ordinary fae and someone from the royal family.

The boy hummed, his gaze shifting from where he was staring at Bucky to look at Clint with that glint in his eye that made a shiver run down his spine but Clint held himself patiently still, not giving a reaction. “Your boy reaches his long hands where he isn’t meant to.” The boy’s voice was like listening to a stream of water run past over your head. Clint kept carefully silent, clutching at the purple flower that got him into this mess and that was most probably planted by the fae boy for him to grab.

“He always sticks his nose in other people’s business,” Bucky replied and he didn’t sound half as annoyed as Clint thought he should be, he sounded almost fond and it gave a sense of whiplash to Clint strong enough that he didn’t even comment about being Bucky’s boy.

“Hmm. He messed with my business now. He might not leave quite so unscathed.” The boy smiled in that predatory tone again and the glint in his eyes seemed to only get brighter. Fuck, fairies were scary. Clint tried not to let any of the dread show on his face and moved to sit up and stand a little closer to Bucky.

“What can we do for you, your Majesty?” Bucky’s voice said diplomacy all over it but his body was so tensed up that even if a needle fell on the floor he would unsheathe his sword. It just made Clint be more on edge and reaching for the knife in his boot in case the encounter would end in something other than negotiations.

The boy laughed, throwing his head back and clutching at his belly, and the sound of bells coming out of his mouth was just as disturbing as hearing him talk. “You don’t have anything I want boy,” he said with another chuckle, and Clint’s stomach seized up the same moment Bucky’s hand went to the hilt of his sword. He moved to cover more of Clint from the fairy, a frown replacing the calm on his face up until that moment.

“I can’t let you take him, your Majesty.” Bucky was still trying to be respectful even as the fae boy threatened Clint with who-knows-what for picking a fucking flower off the damn forest. Clint wasn’t touching anything ever again unless it came out one of their packs if they survived this.

The boy’s stare passed between the two of them and there were a few moments of tense silence that Clint felt like he would explode if it went on for any longer before the boy smiled again, something softer and less threatening than the other times. “Oh,” he said looking between him and Bucky and Clint got the sick sense that somehow he had figured out how exactly gone he was for the other man and the thought gave him a recklessness he shouldn’t have trusted.

“What?” Clint demanded from the fae boy and he could recognize how defensive his voice sounded even to himself that he wanted the earth to just open up and swallow him whole before he could open his mouth and say something even more embarrassing.

That, unfortunately, didn’t happen and he only got a conspiring grin from the fae boy before he walked closer so he could drop down next to Clint on the ground and make both Clint and Bucky extremely uncomfortable with his closeness. The only thing that stopped them from drawing their weapons was the relaxed way he laid back onto the grass like he was never any threat to them at all.

“You’re lucky that one was already half wilted and didn’t have anything more for me to take.” The boy said casually, leaning his head back so the sunlight caught his face. Clint just stared mutely at him, trying to figure out his next move and also trying to stay calm under all the uncertainty about the boy’s motives.

“Do you know yet? Or is it mere coincidence?” The boy asked them and the question could have been directed at either one of them and with an increasing sense of unease, Clint shrugged before answering, not letting Bucky get himself more involved than he needed to be.

“Know what?”

The boy smiled at him, an indulgent smile, before getting up and dusting off his clothes with a sigh. “So that’s a no then,” he threw his hands up in the air and somehow captured some of the sunlight in his palm before looking back at Clint. His gaze the clear blue of the sky burrowing down onto Clint’s soul and looking at all his secrets there as he spoke again, “Do not worry, child. I shall help.”

His smile turned mischievous at the last second before the light in his palm erupted and as it swallowed them whole, and Clint felt the fire of ten suns burn from under his skin and trying to get out from all the wrong places, the one thing that Clint could think as pain racked through his body is getting to Bucky and making sure he was okay.

They both dove for each other at the same time, connecting in a mess of limbs, and even as Bucky tried to shield him from the worst of the blast Clint could still feel the flaming heat in his veins burning him. He must’ve screamed from all that pain but he couldn’t register any of that or any of the sounds around him, only pain. Until even that got too much and for one blissful moment everything went dark.

***

Clint woke up with a rock digging into his lower back and the feeling of soreness that came with sleeping on the hard uneven ground and the sense that something was all wrong. Memories of the day before, hunting and killing the monster after getting a wound on his side and then a fairy visiting them at their before blinding, hot pain, flashed in his mind in quick succession and he sat up, turning to look around him.

Their camp was an exact replica from the day before even complete with Bucky packing up their things. Bucky looked up from his pack to stare at him before a teasing smirk landed on his face. “What? You’re not gonna pretend to sleep today, Barton?” Bucky’s grin lit up his whole face and it distracted Clint for a second before he remembered doing just that yesterday morning so he could hide from his feelings for Bucky and a spark of hope lit up in his chest.

“Like yesterday?” Clint asked and even he could hear the desperation leak into his voice.

Bucky gave him a confused frown and a shake of his head before continuing to pack their things. “Like you do every day, Barton. Don’t think I don’t notice you leaving all the work for me in the mornings.” And Bucky’s words hit Clint like a bucket of ice in the face.

Okay, the way he thought about it, Clint had two options from there. He was either going to completely ignore the bad feeling in his stomach and chuck up his memories to a more realistic dream than usual, which was the one he was more inclined to do, or he could assume yesterday had really happened and he would have to tell Bucky since he didn’t give any sign of remembering and they would have to deal with fairy magic.

Aw, man, Clint really hated fairy magic. It came with so many restrictions and half the time if you did anything slightly different you would end up with frog feet for hands. Not that it had happened to him per se, but he remembered listening to a story about it in some village he was passing through.

Clint decided to at least get up and pack his bedroll while he contemplated his decision and ignore the slightly worried looks Bucky kept throwing at him from across the fire pit. They ate the same breakfast as yesterday, which Clint tried not to think about as he chewed on his stale bread. And then Bucky got up to stretch. The same way he did yesterday and Clint wanted to hit himself upside the head to see if it would get his brain unstuck from that fucking line.

Bucky caught him staring off in the distance with a frown on his face and not getting up to do his own stretches and Clint could feel some of the tension resting on Bucky’s shoulders but he didn’t press or ask anything. He just continued on with his own routine until it was time for them to go towards the forest and in search of the Vulkodalk.

Clint still didn’t know if he should tell Bucky his suspicion or not. So far even if it was going mostly according to the dream nothing too extreme had happened for him to think too much of it. Then a thought came into his head that might’ve explained this whole mess in the first place. It was just a prophetic dream, one of those things Destiny liked to throw in people’s ways, and he should just be careful of the Vulkodalk’s claws and not dare to pick any flowers and everything should be fine.

He walked the rest of the way to the forest with a fierce determination, trying to identify which tree he was perched upon in his dream and thinking of a better vantage point. Bucky broke off from him, going further into the forest to find the beast, and Clint realized he only had a couple of minutes before he had to be up on a tree so he could distract the monster and give Bucky the distraction he needed to kill it.

He hastily climbed up the tree from what he remembered of the beast’s movements would be close enough for him to do his job and waited. Not long after he pulled an arrow out of his quiver and positioned himself ready to fire, Bucky came running towards him with a Vulkodalk at his heels. He didn’t sit around to think much of it raising his voice to get the beast’s attention while firing his arrow, “Hey, ugly!”

He had timed it perfectly so that when the beast would turn its head to look in his direction the arrow would go straight through one of his eyes, and it did. But it also redirected the monster’s thirst for revenge at being disturbed to the tree that was spouting out arrows. And that meant that the next second its big tail was tearing through the trunk of the tree Clint was perched on, giving Clint only a handful of seconds in his surprise to jump off and try to land in a way that wouldn’t crush his skull.

“Clint!” He heard Bucky scream in a mirror of his dream and it startled Clint enough that his landing was just an inch off and his foot slipped just a bit to his left and pressed down on a tree root instead of the ground it was supposed to and Clint heard as much as he felt the sickening crack of his ankle.

He tried to muffle his scream as much as possible, not risking Bucky coming to his rescue instead of going for the beast’s throat, as he fell to the ground. For the first two seconds, Clint couldn’t think anything but the blaring pain from his ankle as he lay on the ground but he quickly realized taking cover was fairly important if he didn’t want any more parts of his body maimed.

By the time he was behind the second tree down to his right and leaning his weight on it so he could lift his ankle a few inches off the ground, with sweat gathering at the back of his neck, Bucky had sliced the Vulkodalk’s throat and was running to him, worry pinching his brows together and making the lines around his mouth tense. Clint hated seeing that look on Bucky’s face, especially when he was the one causing it – and more often than not he was –, and seeing it then just reminded him of his dream and how he hadn’t even managed to avoid hurting himself.

Bucky came to put an arm under his shoulders so he could move Clint away from the tree and somewhere they could camp for the rest of the day while looking for a clearing that would get the job done. Before Clint could say anything Bucky moved to the clearing Clint could faintly recognize from his dream. He sighed but didn’t try to protest since he couldn’t walk that far a distance with his ankle in the state that it was and it was close enough that they wouldn’t even break a sweat.

Besides most of the things from his dream had already happened and he probably only needed to worry about the fae boy later on so he gave in to sitting around with an injury for the rest of the day. As soon as Bucky propped him up against the roots that Clint took a nap across in his dream, he carefully unlaced Clint’s boot and pulled it from his foot slowly enough that Clint didn’t even feel it.

Now that he was thinking about it, the pain had subsided to a dull ache instead of the blinding sharp sting he felt in the first minute. That at least, Clint knew, meant that it wasn’t broken and he heaved a sigh of relief as Bucky started to prob at his probably sprained ankle.

“How much does it hurt?” He was holding the underside of Clint’s ankle tenderly in one of his hands and Clint felt something under his chest burn at the care in all of Bucky’s movements, almost like he was afraid he was going to hurt Clint more if he tried to help.

Well, Clint couldn’t have that.

“It’s probably just sprained. It feels kinda numb right now but the worst of it was when I fell on it. Now it’s fine.” He was maybe being a little more reassuring than he was meant to but it really wasn’t that bad and he would most likely be able to walk tomorrow without putting too much pressure on his ankle. But most of all he knew Bucky would blame himself for somehow not having the foresight and getting Clint hurt.

As it happened foresight didn’t do much since he did have it and he still got hurt.

Bucky hummed but the scowl on his face didn’t let up and he didn’t stop touching around Clint’s already swollen ankle. After a few more minutes of prodding that seemed to satisfy Bucky, he got up to go and bring the horses where they would camp for the night. Clint very pointedly didn’t look at the forest ground or any flowers it did or didn’t have and kept his gaze on the sunlight falling through the tree leaves.

Before long Bucky appeared again with their horses and set about laying out their camp for the rest of the day. Before anything, though he dug through his pack until he pulled a glass vial out and headed for Clint, tipping it into his mouth when he was close enough and while Clint did try to protest and say they would need it for worse days, Bucky just scowled at him harder until Clint opened his mouth to take the potion. Clint knew that he would heal ten times faster with the potion but he didn’t have to like it.

Especially as it seemed like the dream was coming more and more true and he would like not to repeat the encounter with the fae boy if he so pleased. Watching Bucky set up their camp for the day gave Clint an odd sensation right that made him want to rub his chest and get rid of the ache but it also made him feel something soft inside that he wasn’t looking too closely at.

Bucky had barely gotten the fire going before Clint’s eyes were drooping where he was laying against the tree roots. Which was ridiculous because he didn’t even have a concussion! He faintly remembered sleep being one of the side effects of the healing potion and cursed a little under his breath as he settled in more comfortably on the hard ground.

He had already closed his eyes, halfway to dreamland, when Bucky came over to tuck his bedroll over Clint with an amused huff that Clint wanted to argue with but the next second he fell into the dark abyss of sleep.

Clint woke up with a start, trying to sit up only to have his foot burn where he put pressure on it and be flopped back down on the ground. He was left slightly disoriented for a few seconds as his brain tried to work out why he couldn’t stand right before Bucky’s face appeared over his head looking worried and Clint remembered falling off a tree and spraining his ankle.

“Aw, ankle, no,” Clint whined but didn’t try to get up again, just settled in to find a more comfortable seat where rocks wouldn’t dig into his back. Bucky chuckled from above him and any other day Clint would take the time to appreciate the miracle for the world that is Bucky laughing and smiling but his nap had left him worse than when it had gotten him and felt his body being weighed down by an unseen force while his mind was clogged with a dullness that came with midday naps when he didn’t necessarily need them.

Bucky apparently deciding that Clint wasn’t in any mortal danger went back to what he was doing before Clint startled him with his outburst. Now that his senses were becoming accustomed to the world around him again he could smell the deliciously sweet scent of fresh meat being roasted and he salivated just thinking about getting to eat a freshly cooked meal in, he didn’t even know how long.

He faintly recalled the dream of Bucky cooking them rabbits while he sat injured and realized that they never got to eat them before Clint messed up and summoned the fairy. Well, today Clint was determined not to do anything, else, that would put them in an awkward situation. So he crossed his hands over his chest just in case they got a mind of their own and waited for Bucky to tell him when dinner was ready.

He was drifting in and out of consciousness while the sun was getting even lower on the clear sky, trying not to fall asleep again when Bucky finally came to nudge him up so they could eat. Cooked rabbit over a fire in a forest was anything but luxury but Clint couldn’t stop himself from moaning around the first warm bite of meat he had. Or the second. Or the third. The whole meal was Clint devouring his food while Bucky tried not to laugh at him and hide his smile behind his own.

Bucky’s shoulders had lost the tension they held since Clint had gotten injured and Clint found himself relaxing just that bit more now that the day passed and they were, mostly, unscathed.

Bucky set their bedrolls next to the fire, carefully placing Clint’s in front of it while his own looking out into the forest, and Clint filled into his brain that he put them next to each other and not on opposite sides of the fire but he didn’t say anything about it. He just accepted Bucky’s help to get down and get comfortable and tried not to get too excited that he would be able to feel Bucky’s warmth for the rest of the night, even if they weren’t touching.

Clint, remarkably, didn’t have any problem feeling sleepy after having a full stomach and not having anything else to do but lay about and wait for his ankle to heal all day. Bucky disappeared between the trees, where the light of the fire couldn’t quite reach to illuminate through the dark forest of the night, to do their regularly scheduled perimeter check, that they would usually alternate between the both of them.

When he got back Clint had his back to the fire, daydreaming about getting to sleep in touching distance from Bucky and trying not to fall asleep thinking about that scene so he could wait for him. Bucky quickly shed his armor and his boots, carefully laying his sword close enough so that he could grab it if something disturbed them in the middle of the night, before laying on his bedroll close enough to Clint that he could feel his breath on his arm.

Bucky laid down on his side so he could look at Clint while he did the same and Clint could only shoot him a soft smile, taking in the grey of his eyes and the subtle growing on his face, before his eyes shut and his breathing was evening out to thoughts about getting to wake up to Bucky’s face so close to his.

***

Clint woke up with a rock digging into his lower back and the soreness that came with sleeping on the cold uneven ground. He felt his stomach drop down to his feet before he even opened his eyes and a sense of dread paralyzing his whole body. Clint took a deep breath, trying to swallow the bile in his mouth, and opened his eyes to the familiar sight of their camp from the day before and Bucky packing up his things.

He tried as much as he could to not show the wave of disappointment that racked through him as he realized he couldn’t hide behind his finger anymore and he had to accept that he was stuck somewhere.

Bucky lifted his head to look at him as Clint managed to school his face into something more acceptable for just having woken up. A teasing smirk planted itself onto Bucky’s face and Clint realized he was about to hear the exact same words he heard yesterday. “What? You’re not gonna pretend to sleep today, Barton?” It was like someone had dropped a bucket of ice water on the top of Clint’s head and he had just enough sense to not shiver.

“You could’ve woken me if you didn’t want to complain, Barnes.” Clint tried to put as much teasing as he could into his voice, placing a smirk on his own face. It had the desired reaction as Bucky huffed a laugh at him and shook his head before going back to organizing his pack. Clint let his expression fall as Bucky turned away from him again and busied himself with tidying his own bedroll.

He thought about that first day and anything the fairy had said that might’ve proved useful to him now but, as the usual was for fairies, he only spoke in riddles Clint didn’t understand and would surely break his brain if he tried to. He had to assume that it was never a dream and the fairy had cursed him somehow.

Unless.

Unless it was still a dream. A really fucked up dream, but still a dream. Meaning he could still get out of the dream if he just tried hard enough. He turned around to look at Bucky and a thought popped into his head. He finished packing up his bedroll with a new wave of determination before putting it on his horse and absently thinking that if his idea didn’t work he was truly fucked.

He walked over to Bucky where he was getting their breakfast out of his pack, the stale bread, making Clint wrinkle his nose at having the same piece of bread for three days straight. Bucky offered some to him when he got close enough but Clint refused, guessing that it would be better to do this on an empty stomach if it got a little out of hand.

“I think we should spar,” Clint sure wasn’t any kind of word master but even he could tell that he could have phrased it better than that. It didn’t really matter how he talked to Bucky in particular since he had seen Clint in all stages of drunkenness and could still be able to understand the words out of his mouth when there were words. So Clint knew that Bucky would understand that it really meant a lot to Clint that they sparred right then.

It could have been the way his hands were shaking just the slightest bit, not enough to be noticeable to the untrained eye but enough for Bucky, or the way he couldn’t stand completely still even as he was standing in front of him waiting for an answer. Or it could have been that sometimes Bucky liked to indulge Clint in little things that he asked for.

Sparring for a few minutes wouldn’t mess up their entire day and it would probably be good exercise before going to slay a monster. So in the end, Bucky agreed and got up so they could move over to a more even patch of grass.

It started easily enough, the first few swipes a warm-up for both of them, then Clint started pushing at Bucky more and more with every punch and every kick, trying to get to his limit and get him using his actual strength instead of the half he usually used when they sparred. Clint could take it, he wasn’t in any manner of speaking weak, but more importantly, a punch with the full strength of Bucky behind it would be enough to knock him out of his dream and back to reality.

Sending another sharp kick to Bucky’s right side where he usually left unguarded earned Clint an irritated growl and he could see Bucky’s resolve about not using enough force dwindle by the second. Another swipe at his left shoulder and a punch to the stomach Clint had finally made Bucky lose his patience so that when they started again Bucky just ran towards him, knocking Clint hard on the ground and landing on top of him with his forearm across his neck.

All the air left Clint’s lungs in a huff of air and for a moment he couldn’t move from underneath Bucky’s weight, just staring up at him and letting the sensation of pain run through his body and make him realize that not only was he not dreaming but he was seriously fucked. Because he had gone and gotten himself cursed by a fairy.

Clint sighed in disappointment and Bucky released his grip on Clint’s neck but didn’t move off of him, just kept looking at him with a confused frown on his brows. “What’s wrong?” Clint could tell that Bucky was worried and the sparring had only put him more on edge than he would otherwise be so he couldn’t quite mask the growl in his voice.

Clint didn’t mind, he knew that Bucky would never do anything to hurt him, but it made telling him about getting tricked and cursed by a fairy all that much more dreadful for him. Clint sighed again, cursing at his past self for thinking that he was safe in a magical forest, and pushed at Bucky until he pulled off of him and sat back in his haunches.

Clint had just enough room to sit up but his thighs were still trapped under Bucky’s weight so he wouldn’t have a chance to escape and not answer his question. It was a smart choice on Bucky’s part since Clint felt the instinct of flight take over most of his brain. Clint sighed again, leaning back on his palms and taking a few moments to watch the clouds pass above them. Bucky waited for him with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his face and Clint knew he wouldn’t be doing this alone even if he wanted to.

“So, I might have gotten us into a situation,” Clint finally admitted, scratching the back of his head and looking past Bucky’s boot so he doesn’t make direct eye contact with him. Bucky still waited patiently for him to continue, no doubt thinking back to the days he can remember for anything Clint might have done to piss someone off enough to give them problems, and it only made the tight ball that had gathered in Clint’s stomach all the more painful, waiting for the moment Bucky would eventually snap at him.

“If I were you I wouldn’t pick any flowers until we get out of the forest,” his attempt at a little more playfulness seemed to fall flat as Bucky kept staring at him with the scary scowl on his face he had whenever someone was testing his patience and Clint took a deep breath, getting himself ready to just let it all out. “I, most probably, have been cursed by a fairy in the forest we’re about to walk into ‘cause I’ve already been through this day two times and, honestly, it’s getting a little annoying.”

Clint didn’t dare to lift his eyes up to meet Bucky’s even though the other man was still sitting on him without saying anything, no doubt speechless at the amount of Clint’s stupidity he was being subjected to.

“Are you sure?” The question caught Clint off guard, enough so that he lifted his eyes to Bucky’s face in surprise, and instead of seeing anger and irritation like he was expecting he could tell the lines on Bucky’s face were etched by worry and concern. Really, Clint didn’t even deserve him sometimes.

He slumped forward, as relief rolled through his body in waves, and let his head land in the middle of Bucky’s chest. Just breathing in time with him and listening to his steady heartbeat. Clint could feel the moment Bucky relaxed and leaned into him, bringing his arms around Clint and burying one in his hair and putting the other over his shoulders.

They didn’t do this often unless one of them was seriously injured and then they both needed the reassurance that the other was okay. But casual intimate contact wasn’t really their thing and it was giving Clint a little bit of whiplash to feel Bucky so close to him. He suddenly realized he hadn’t answered Bucky’s question and hummed, not moving his head from where it was pillowed on his chest.

“I’m pretty sure I don’t wanna eat stale bread for the third day in a row,” Clint could actually go with just stale bread for about a week but something about getting the exact same piece every day with the exact same taste grated something in his brain and he was positive he would go crazy.

Bucky hummed above him but didn’t move his hand from Clint’s hair or made any move to dislocate him. Clint tried to let the embrace comfort him and not try to think about what Bucky might think about Clint getting them cursed by picking a fucking flower because of course these things only happen to him.

Before he could let his thoughts spiral into the black void Bucky brought both his hands at Clint’s jaw in order to push his head lightly back and make him look at him. Clint tried to swallow around the lump in his throat, both at the casual touch that was all too much like something he wanted for so long and at the thought that Bucky might suddenly change his mind. Instead, Clint found understanding and worry in his eyes, which were right about enough to make him start crying if he didn’t take some deep breaths.

“Tell me everything,” Bucky’s soft voice said and Clint did.

***

Clint woke with a rock digging into his lower back and the soreness that came with sleeping on the uneven hard ground. He, also, woke up with the knowledge that he was currently in a time loop curse, and every day he woke up still in it his rage and frustration would just get an inch higher.

That first, or second, day when he told Bucky, he had explained to Clint what exactly he had gotten them into and proceeded to threaten him with bodily harm if he ever disturbed in any way any magical forest they might come across again. Like Clint was that much of an idiot.

Okay, sometimes he was, but he learned his lesson about magic.

Then, having lost half their day already, Bucky tried to get Clint to go over the details again of the first day and then started listing off things they might do. It overwhelmed Clint just the slightest bit, enough so that he excused himself to go freak out behind a tree before going back to their camp.

They didn’t actually get to do anything that day and Clint got to busk in the knowledge that he wasn’t alone in this even though it felt like it every morning. That night they laid their bedrolls next to each other even if Clint knew by the time he would wake up tomorrow it would all be out of place again.

So, Clint woke up the next day in the same spot he had for the last four days and told Bucky everything first thing in the morning and they started going through Bucky’s list. And he did the same the next day, and the next, and the next. Until he had no idea how many days had passed since the first non-cursed one and he would argue about what things they had already done with Bucky.

It wasn’t like Clint was the one living the same day over and over remembering everything that had already happened.

Yesterday they had gotten in such a big fight Clint had actually gotten up and left and didn’t come back all through the night.

And Clint was tired. He was so tired, he just wanted not to do anything that day, or the day after that for that matter, and he wanted his Bucky back.

He opened his eyes to the same scene from how many days he’s been doing this already and he actually felt his eyes sting and fill with tears. He got up and started packing up his bedroll. He completely blocked out whatever Bucky was saying to him, he was sure he had heard it before and went through the motions of the morning with practiced ease that came with doing it a dozen times already.

Bucky gave him curious looks while they were eating breakfast and Clint dreaded telling him about the curse that day more than he did the first day. He knew he was somehow obligated to at least tell Bucky he was cursed along with Clint but he couldn’t find the strength today.

In all honesty, he just wanted to stay at the camp and do nothing for one day.

“Why don’t you stay back, then?” Clint hadn’t realized he had said it out loud until Bucky spoke and he had a terrifying moment when he thought he had just been spilling everything but then realized that Bucky would have interrupted him way earlier if that was the case.

It was still ridiculous to think about that as an option. In all the days they killed the Vulkodalk Clint was there to distract the beast so Bucky could get the lucky strike in its throat. Clint huffed, still not lifting his eyes to meet Bucky’s. “I can’t just let you go by yourself,”

Bucky didn’t say anything to him after that and Clint happily let the subject drop, debating how bad it would be if he just didn’t tell Bucky that day and just pretended that he hadn’t gotten them cursed. They stretched in silence, Bucky staring into the distance with a thoughtful frown on his face.

Clint didn’t let himself think too much about it, most of the days’ Bucky wasn’t aware of the curse he spent frowning at Clint or generally at the forest around them so it wasn’t really unusual for him.

What was unusual for him in a way that made Clint’s eye almost twitch is asking Clint to get ingredients for a potion he wanted to make. “You want what now?” Bucky had never, in all the times he had gone through this day, asked him to get anything from anywhere.

“I need some burdock for a new potion I’m trying. I think I saw some on our way here, can you go and check?” Bucky wasn’t looking at him when he asked, messing with his pack, probably getting the things he needed for the potion.

It was so wildly different from any other day he already had that for a moment he thought he might have actually broken the curse but then he remembered Bucky telling him that when he actually breaks the curse he will wake up and it will be the next day. Clint let the disappointment roll through his body before going to look for fucking burdock at Bucky’s expectant face.

Bucky didn’t tell him exactly where he had seen the burdock so Clint just went back to the road that had gotten them this far and started walking back, away from the camp. He did actually find some burdock but it had only just bloomed over the stem and he couldn’t imagine it would be enough for any potion but he still kneeled down and took his dagger out to take what he good from the flower.

He had walked quite a distance away from the camp and when he got back, his undershirt was sticking to his skin with sweat, and the only thing he could focus on enough was getting to his waterskin and having the blessed water there.

When he wasn’t distracted by his dry mouth Clint realized, while he looked around the camp, that Bucky was nowhere to be found. His pack was where Clint had last seen him, neatly closed and nothing around, and his horse was still next to Clint’s. For one horrible moment, Clint thought that the fairy had come back and had taken Bucky from him since it was taking Clint a long time to get out of the curse.

Then he heard a roar that vibrated through his whole body and he had to swallow back the bile in his throat. Suddenly it all made sense that Bucky was asking bizarre things from him and he had a second of pure blind panic before his legs started running for the forest, trying to pinpoint from where exactly the roar had come from and knocking an arrow already on his bow.

When he found the Vulkodalk’s body it was in the place that had become familiar in Clint’s brain by being there every day for more than a week. At first, he couldn’t see Bucky at all and it made something painful break in his chest.

It was all the same when he did see him though. Bucky’s pale face, trying to keep his eyes open for more than a second at a time, being propped against a tree and his torso buried in a sea of red. Clint couldn’t look too closely at that part of his body for too long or he was sure he would pass out. He let the boy and arrow fall from his hands, running to Bucky’s side and falling to his knees next to him.

“What have you done?” Clint could hear how wrecked his voice sounded and how it broke at the last word but he couldn’t care less about how much of himself he showed with Bucky slowly bleeding out on the forest ground. His hands were hovering above Bucky’s body, trying to find somewhere to hold onto without hurting him even more.

“Wanted...to give you...a break.” Bucky stuttered, turning his head so his grey eyes could catch Clint’s blue, and Clint felt his heart break all over again.

“You idiot! I was fine!” Clint yelled, blinking rapidly to clear the tears off his eyes and balling his hands into fists. Bucky tried to scowl at him and that really was what made Clint’s stomach drop to his ass. He couldn’t focus enough to do it right and it was a pale expression compared to Bucky’s terrifying frown. It also gave Clint that push to start doing something, anything, to help Bucky.

Clint put shaking, gentle hands, on Bucky’s face trying to get his eyes to focus on him and softening his face so he wouldn’t freak Bucky out with his panic. “I’m gonna go grab the healing potion and I’m gonna be back and you will still be awake.” Bucky tried to nod along with Clint’s words but it only made his eyes close faster.

Clint shook him a little to get his eyes back on him. “Promise me,” Clint pressed and Bucky licked his lips, blinking sluggishly, before nodding again.

“...promise,” his voice was faint enough for Clint’s heart to give another painful thud but he had to ignore his own chest and focus on Bucky for now.

Needing no other confirmation Clint got up and started running as fast as his legs could take him back to the camp, searching in Bucky’s pack for the familiar vial and running back to the forest with his heart in his throat, his mind already providing images of Bucky’s prone body lying still and not waking up. It only made Clint run faster.

In the end, he wasn’t sure it took him a whole minute to go to their camp and back and Bucky was still laying where Clint had left him, his eyes closed but as Clint approached him, he opened them just enough for hope to creep into Clint’s chest and stay there.

Clint stayed silent as he tilted Bucky’s head enough so he could drink down the whole vial, waiting with batted breath for his body to stitch back together. Even after having drunk all of the healing potion Bucky’s face was still pale as snow and it only made Clint’s nausea flare-up.

Bucky could keep his eyes open for longer but the wound on his stomach was still bleeding sluggishly and Clint gave himself over to the thought that he would have to stitch him up and help with the healing process. As he was getting up, though, Bucky’s hand closed around his wrist, holding him in place.

Clint turned to look down at Bucky and he only barely managed not to break down at the ask on his skin. It looked like Bucky was trying to tell him something but with his wound still, open Clint didn’t have much time to lose so he detangled Bucky’s hand from his wrist, taking it in his own and squeezing. “We’ll talk about anything you want after I stitch you up, okay?”

He tried to ignore the waver on his voice in order of getting up and going to fetch Bucky’s suture kit but he paused when Bucky’s gravely voice reached his ears. “Don’t…” Clint looked back at Bucky like he was crazy but he only squeezed the hand he had around Clint’s and shook his head.

“It can’t…” Bucky started to say before he had to swallow again and Clint tried not to think about how that sentence wanted to end. Bucky locked his gaze with Clint’s again, something unreadable passing over his face before squeezing Clint’s hand again. “Stay,”

It was an unmistakable plea and it made Clint’s heart bleed into his chest and Clint squeeze his shut on the onset of more tears. “No,” his voice broke over the single word and he put his hands back on Bucky’s face bringing it closer to his. “No, no, no, no, no.” Clint knew he was absolutely wailing, tears streaming down his face, and his voice a mess of pain and outrage at Destiny that decided this was the moment to take Bucky from him.

Bucky was trying to comfort him with a hand squeezing his shoulder as Clit sobbed from above him, bringing their foreheads together and trying to will the blood back into Bucky’s body.

Bucky’s hand was the first to drop from Clint’s shoulder and Clint made a punched out whine in the back of his throat, pressing even closer to Bucky and trying to will his lungs to take in air. Bucky lifted his chin just enough so that his lips were touching Clint’s jaw and just that little gesture made Clint cry harder and press his own lips to Bucky’s cheek before Bucky took another inhale that rattled in his chest and let out the exhale without taking another breath.

Clint heard himself yell like he was someone else. He dropped his head on Bucky’s shoulder, already losing its warmth with every second, before everything went black and he passed out.

***

Clint woke up with a rock digging into his lower back, feeling the soreness of sleeping on the uneven ground and the memory of Bucky dying in his arms. He shot up out of his bedroll, heart in his throat, and for the first time wishing he was still cursed.

The scene of Bucky packing up and doing something so simple brought tears to his eyes that he had no hope of stopping as he sat up and ran until he could tackle Bucky to the ground and lock his arms around Bucky’s neck. He made a surprised noise at the armful of Clint but only hesitated a moment before wrapping his arms around Clint’s middle.

Somehow that only made Clint sob harder and he buried his face deeper in the space between Bucky’s neck and shoulder. Clint concentrated on the feel of Bucky’s pulse against his face and the way his chest was moving under Clint’s, taking in breaths without stopping.

Clint made another wrecked noise before pulling back, bringing his hands up to Bucky’s face and watching his grey eyes filled with life. Clint choked off a sob that wanted to escape his throat and leaned down, unable to stop himself, and pressed his lips against Bucky’s.

For half a second nothing happened and they just breathed in the same air before Bucky gasped and brought one of his hands to the back of Clint’s head as he opened his mouth and took Clint’s bottom lip between his teeth. Clint made a pained noise in the back of his throat before opening his own mouth and kissing Bucky like he needed to breathe.

Clint could still feel himself cry, his cheeks wet with tears, but Bucky paid no mind to any of that. Just tangled his fingers in Clint’s hair and letting Clint’s tongue explore his mouth.

They parted when they were both in need of air but they didn’t go too far, Clint leaning his forehead on Bucky’s, and panting into each other’s mouths. Clint’s eyes were still wet and he could feel some stray tears roll down his cheeks every once in a while, they didn’t get that far since Bucky’s hand was right there swiping all of them away with his thumb.

Clint was alternating between clutching Bucky’s face between his hands and squeezing his shoulders, making sure he was still there, making sure he was still breathing, while Bucky lazily ran his hands through Clint’s hair. Clint didn’t want to move an inch where he was draped over Bucky but he knew soon enough Bucky would want answers and he tried to soak up as much of this as he could.

He pressed a final kiss to Bucky’s lips, prolonging the inevitable of having to part from him, before sighing and moving to get up off Bucky. He doesn't let him get all the way off though, placing his hands on Clint’s hips and keeping him firmly planted on Bucky’s lap.

“Sweetheart?” Bucky gently asked when Clint stared at his hands for a second too long. Clint’s head shot up at the endearment and he felt something melt inside his chest before he brought his hands up to frame Bucky’s face again. “What’s wrong?” He asked in that same gentle tone and Clint huffed.

He should probably start at the beginning.

***

Clint woke up with a rock digging into his lower back and the soreness that came with sleeping on the cold uneven ground. He still has the memory of Bucky bleeding out tattooed into his brain but it’s been a few days that he got to have him whole and alive that it’s only a dull ache in his chest when he woke up and it’s the first thing he remembered.

Clint could admit to himself that they had spent the days after Bucky died being a little too careful. So Clint didn’t tell Bucky about the curse one day, so what? He was the one that was meant to get injured anyway. And maybe when he did tell Bucky he didn’t explicitly clarify what exactly they had already gone through in previous days.

No one could judge him, he wasn’t doing anything that could even remotely put Bucky in danger again.

Despite having Bucky whole and healthy and with him again, the constant repeating of the days was starting to take a toll on Clint. He woke up exhausted even though he felt like he had slept the whole night and his mind was starting to edge into that place that told him that he’s useless and a total failure and that’s why he hadn’t already figured it out and why he never would.

Most days Clint knew that place was full of lies but he didn’t know how many weeks or months had passed since their first day at the forest and he was losing hope of ever outsmarting a fairy, even with Bucky’s help.

One thing that part of his brain can’t even take from him was the memory of his first kiss with Bucky. He’s pretty sure he would never forget about that no matter what happened with the curse. It was the single most perfect moment of his life. He hadn’t tried to kiss Bucky again after that day and he was regretting it every time he looked at him.

Clint sighed, still keeping his eyes closed and pretending he was still asleep even if Bucky knew he was lying. Apparently, that was all he was good for. He couldn’t even kiss Bucky when he already knew that the reaction would most probably be positive. It hurt something deep in Clint’s stomach to admit that and he decided to stop acting and sit up so he can figure out what to do today.

One look at Bucky packing his things and sending a cocky little smirk Clint’s way was apparently all he needed for the dam to break. Between one blink and the next Clint was standing over Bucky, not even realizing he had moved, and pulling him up until he was close enough for Clint to mash their lips together.

Bucky made a surprised noise against his mouth but Clint didn’t let up, holding onto the front of his armor and letting his lips relax against Bucky’s. Just like last time, it took only a second for Bucky to relax and circle an arm around Clint’s waist, bringing him closer to his body, and putting the other in his hair that Clint hadn’t known he was missing.

Clint sighed against him, his body slumping forward and bringing them even closer together. They kissed lazily for a few moments, Clint dragging his tongue over Bucky’s to see what reaction it would give him before the need for oxygen was too great and they parted just enough so that their noses were still rubbing together.

Bucky hummed questioningly, bringing both his arms around Clint’s waist, and seemed to be as reluctant to break the moment as Clint himself. Then the craziest idea popped into Clint’s head and because he’s an impulsive shit he didn’t let himself think too much about it before he was spitting out the words.

“Come home with me,” Clint requested, gently cradling Bucky’s jaw in his hands and watching the confusion morph into amazement on his face, silently praying in his head that he hadn’t pushed too far.

“Home?” And if Bucky’s voice sounded strangled Clint decided to read that much into it and drop another kiss on his mouth before pulling away enough to nod his answer. Bucky seemed to think it over in his head before swallowing and whispering in the space between them. “Yeah,”

His voice had a weird tone to it that Clint decided he liked a little more than he wanted to admit to anyone. Clint, also, very pointedly didn’t think about how despite all the relationships he’s had over the years he never thought to bring anyone to his home and meet his family, not even that disaster of a handfasting with Bobbi. No matter how long he had known them he could never bring himself to trust them with so much of his heart.

He then continued to ignore what that implied for him and Bucky.

With one last peck to Bucky’s mouth, that ended up with his lower lip in Clint’s mouth and his arms squeezing around Clint’s waist and bringing their bodies flush together, Clint moved away from him so they could both resume packing.

Bucky didn’t question Clint about the Vulkodalk and Clint was glad for it, it would really be a bitch if he had to travel with an injury and besides the beast would be there tomorrow for them to slay, as would they.

Bucky quickly distracted him from that line of thought with a hand on his back and his lips on Clint’s cheek. Clint felt his face get hot under the attention and ducked his head to hide the soft smile that spread on his lips before remembering he didn’t have to hide behind his finger with how Bucky had kissed him.

Packing took a lot longer to get done after they both let themselves touch whenever they felt like it and most of the time they just ended up kissing. It was the first day in a long time that Clint remembered himself smiling at nothing every time Bucky’s arm would brush against his.

Finally, around midday, they both mounted their horses and started the trek towards Clint’s village. Clint filled the silence for most of the way there with idle details about his village and the time he had spent there, after both his parents died. He skirted around that subject, not wanting to dampen the good mood of the day, and talked excitedly about all the things that he would make Bucky do while they were there.

Bucky huffed and complained but he mostly did it with a smile on his face so Clint didn’t take it too personally. That was one of the reasons that when they had to stop for the day since the sun had already set behind them and they still had a couple of hours to reach his village Clint let the smile drop from his face to be replaced by a frown.

Bucky tried to kiss it away promising to get up early tomorrow so they wouldn’t miss the whole day on the road again but Clint couldn’t be soothed by that when he knew that tomorrow they would wake up and Bucky would have no memory of having kissed Clint and promised him all those things.

They went to bed together, setting their bedrolls side by side, and with Clint laying half on top of Bucky, giving himself this one night before he had to go back to that horrible yesterday.

***

Clint woke up with a rock digging into his lower back and the soreness that came with sleep on the cold uneven ground. And feeling both determined and disappointed from yesterday. He was disappointed that they didn’t even get to reach his village last night but determined enough to let that plan slide and think of a new plan.

He was determined that if he was to stay cursed he was going to try and spend his days, cursed as they may be, making them into something that he could handle for the foreseeable future, something that wouldn’t make him want to pull his hair out.

And that always started and ended with Bucky. So he took a page out of his own book and as soon as the plan was solidified into his head he got up and without giving himself any time to think about the what-ifs he planted his lips on Bucky’s again. The reaction was starkly similar to the day before but that didn’t take away from the fact that Clint was kissing Bucky and every time was better than the last.

When Clint pulls back from the kiss the look on Bucky’s face is dazed bewilderment and Clint quickly swoops in to bruise his lips just a little more before pulling away completely. “Stay with me?” Bucky’s eyes were glassy while he looked up at Clint and nodded at his question.

Clint smiled at him, feeling his chest fill with something soft that he wasn’t looking too hard at, and tangled his hands with Bucky’s so he could pull him back and towards his bedroll. If he couldn’t take Bucky to meet his family Clint knew exactly what part of him he wanted to give to Bucky instead.

***

Clint woke up with a rock digging into his lower back and the soreness that came with sleeping on the cold, uneven ground. He woke up choking back the emotion that threatened to bleed from his chest. Yesterday had been a day that Clint would remember for years to come whenever he needed a little comfort and light in his life.

Clint had convinced Bucky to stay at the camp and lay down on their bedrolls all day with just his mouth on his. They ate whatever breakfast they had on hand and proceeded to spend the day wrapped up in each other, breaking away only for bathroom breaks and setting back up the camp for the night while Bucky hunted their dinner.

It was the perfect day that Clint wished he could have every day. And surprising no one he was still cursed.

Last night as they laid together on their bedrolls Clint had told Bucky everything he could think of. About the curse and about how much he felt on any given day, so much that it could choke him if he let it, and Bucky had looked at him with all the stars in his eyes, whispering Clint’s words back to him.

Clint may have cried, just a little bit when Bucky had his head safely under Clint’s chin.

He felt all that emotion come back with a vengeance now that he woke up another day with Bucky not knowing all the things in Clint’s heart. He sat up, careful not to let his eyes fall on Bucky at the other side of their camp where he’s been on for months and mumbled something that sounded like “Going for a walk,” before taking off into the woods.

Clint knew it was probably not the best thing he could have done, considering Bucky had no recollection of the last few months but he just needed to breathe somewhere that didn’t remind him every second how much he was failing for still being cursed.

Stupid fucking curse and the stupid fairies that couldn’t just leave people alone.

As if summoned by his thoughts the fae boy that had cursed him just appeared in front of him, seemingly out of thin air. But then, that’s how magic worked, Clint guessed. The fairy was smiling at him and Clint could honestly punch him straight in the face but then that would probably put him in more trouble than he already was in.

“What.” Clint snapped, not caring about his tone after months of being tortured by living the same day over and over again.

“Don’t be so sour, lover boy.” The fae replied coyly, his voice that still distressing sound that gritted wrong in Clint’s ears. He was looking at Clint with a weird expression on his face like he knew something Clint didn’t and Clint wanted to punch him all over again.

Clint huffed, not in the mood to have any kind of conversation with a fairy, and continued walking past him. Unfortunately, Clint wasn’t lucky enough to have the fairy lose interest in him, instead, the fae boy just followed behind him like he didn’t have anything better to do with his day.

“Have you yet seen what is so clear to the naked eye?” It took Clint a minute to realize the fairy was talking to him and another minute to decipher what exactly his words meant. After a few moments, Clint just whirled around pointing a finger in front of the fairy’s face and clenching his jaw in an effort to keep his voice level.

“There’s nothing to see and your stupid curse has only caused me problems. You wanted to help, my ass. You don’t care about us, you just want to entertain yourself.” Clint couldn’t keep the bite from his words even if he tried. He was exhausted and he just wanted to go back to being able to talk to Bucky without having to think about what he can’t tell him because of the curse.

Thankfully the fae boy seemed more amused than offended at his tone as he batted Clint’s hand away and scoffed. “You humans rarely get to see past your own noses.” He said dismissively, knocking his shoulder with Clint’s while he walked past him. “Don’t let your heart get away from you just because you can’t see it.” The fae boy said one last time before disappearing behind a tree.

Clint’s chest felt tight at the words the fairy used, his mind going immediately to Bucky back at their camp, probably waiting for him to get back so they could get on with their day. The thought of spending another day being around Bucky while he was still in this stupid curse made his stomach turn in on itself and he had to swallow back a wave of nausea.

Clint ended up wandering around the forest for the rest of the day, trying to simultaneously think about the fairy’s words and ignore all thoughts connected to Bucky. He wasn’t doing a very good job and when he finally walked back to their camp long after the sun had set he was hungry and thirsty and just wanted to forget about the curse long enough so his brain would stop hurting.

Bucky was sitting in front of the fire at the center of this camp, cooked meat by his side, with a big scowl on his face and tugging at his fingers, it was a nervous habit he hadn’t been able to shake all the years Clint had known him. He looked up when Clint came into the clearing, the frown dropping from his face and some tension melting from his shoulders.

Clint was hit with all the emotions he was trying to ignore all at once at the look of naked concern on Bucky’s face as he came towards Clint to probably lecture him about running away for the whole day. Before he could even get a word in Clint opened his mouth and let out the words that had been bubbling under the surface for years.

“I love you,”

Bucky stopped in his tracks, staring at Clint with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open. “Clint–” he tried to start but it was like a dam had broken inside Clint and he couldn’t stop the next words as they came pouring out of his mouth and he took a step forward.

“I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you probably. That day the Seer told us we should be together, it was probably the best day of my life since it got me you. And I don’t deserve you and I never have. I don’t know why Destiny thinks you should be stuck with me but I’m not looking too closely at it because I would probably be lost without you. And I love you so much it hurts most days to just look at you and I got us cursed I don’t even know how many months ago and the thought that keeps coming back into my head is why would you ever want to be with someone so useless he can’t even–”

Bucky cut off Clint’s rant by walking in close to him and pressing his lips on Clint’s. It was really for the best as Clint made a pained noise in the back of his throat before wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck and holding on for dear life. Clint realized he had been crying through his whole speech when his wet cheek touched Bucky’s but any worries he might have had for it disappeared when Bucky’s tongue passed between his lips and into Clint’s mouth.

They kissed for a long time, Clint not letting Bucky get too far away from him and Bucky winding his own arms around Clint’s waist and squeezing him closer into his body. When the need for oxygen was too great they pulled apart the couple of inches they needed to lean their foreheads against each other and breathe the same air.

Clint was slowly getting his breath back to something that could pass as normal before Bucky decided that wouldn’t do and rubbed his nose along the bridge of Clint’s before whispering, “I love you, too,”

Clint gasped and pulled away enough to look at him, but not enough to dislodge their arms, and he only saw pure affection and sincerity swimming in Bucky’s eyes. So much so that he didn’t let himself question it or get in his head about it and just leaned forward to take Bucky’s lips in another long kiss.

After that Clint lost all the self-control he was carefully maintaining around Bucky and his hands began ripping away Bucky’s armor on their own accord. Bucky made a wrecked noise against his lips and started kissing him with all the desperation that Clint felt deep in his bones.

A few moments later they were both ridded of their clothes and were lying down on Bucky’s already made bedroll. They hadn’t stopped kissing for one second, lips, and hands always touching skin until Clint was on Bucky’s lap and could feel how hard he was against his ass.

Clit moaned into Bucky’s mouth and pressed even closer to him, rubbing his erection against Bucky’s stomach and getting drowned by the need to feel Bucky closer than he had ever gotten him. He mumbled something close enough to “oil,” that Bucky understood and he said “my pack,” in response, against Clint’s neck.

Clint groaned at the thought of separating from Bucky but oil was important if he wanted to get to that stage with Bucky. So he extracted himself from Bucky going over to where his pack was buried underneath their clothes to search for the oil.

As he was pulling their clothes away his eye caught something falling to the ground from one of the pockets and he reflexively went to pick it up only to find that it was the purple flower that he had picked up that first day.

He felt a smile form on his face and he thought about how much pain that little flower had caused him but before he could get too lost in his thoughts Bucky called his name from where he was lying still naked and Clint came back to the resent with a shake of his head, letting the flower drop to the ground and finding the oil inside Bucky’s pack.

Clint turned to walk back to Bucky, smirking at him while he sauntered over. He pounced on Bucky the moment he was close enough and let his laughter wash over him before he covered Bucky’s lips with his again.

***

Clint woke up with a rock digging into his lower back and the soreness that came with sleeping on the cold, uneven ground. He was stark naked under his bedroll and Bucky was tucked under his arm, sleeping peacefully against his chest.

Clint smiled up at the blue sky and buried his face in Bucky’s hair before going back to sleep.