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The match left Bucky with a few new cuts and bruises, but at least he was still upright. Clint didn't seem so lucky.
He was slumped against a pillar panting like a dog. Hair had fallen out of his bun and over his eyes. Sweat dripped down his temple and his expression was vacant but calculated like he was solving a puzzle in his mind.
It didn't matter how much time passed, Clint would always stun Bucky with his effortless beauty. Even though Clint was seemingly on the edge of passing out.
“You alright?” Bucky reached a hand out to him but Clint only stared, eyes a hundred miles away. Bucky's stomach dropped at the idea that he might have a concussion before Clint grabbed it and hauled himself up.
Clint flashed that easy smile of his, a little lopsided, and Bucky desperately wanted to press his fingers to the edge of it, feel his happiness like it was a tangible concept. He was almost tempted to before Clint started speaking.
“Yeah, just…” Clint regained as much composure as he could and took a deep breath. “Yeah,” He breathed out.
Bucky nodded as he stared at the loose strands that Clint was batting away like a fly. His brows were endearing furrowed as he struggled.
“Let me–” Bucky stepped forward and gently brushed Clint's hands away so that he could take the hair tie out of his hair.
A few knots snagged as he pulled and Bucky gave soft apologies when Clint winced. With their faces this close together, the buries across his jaw were now glaring obviously.
Bucky didn't want to admit that he was overprotective, but one injury is enough to make that fierce concern rumble in his chest.
Clint turned around and pushed all his hair back, letting Bucky take it in his hands, gathering it all and running his fingers through to carefully undo the knots.
He closed his eyes as Bucky smoothed his hair out over his head and tied it back, neat and precise, like always.
When Clint turned back he was smiling, cheeks adorably flushed and a light in his eyes that only manifested when they looked at each other.
Bucky stepped closer to press a kiss to his cheek, embarrassingly feeling like a schoolgirl when he had to get on his tiptoes.
Clint chased after his lips when Bucky stepped away and pressed firm against him, letting a hand rest on his waist.
The kiss only lasted a second before Bucky hissed in pain from bruises at his side he didn't realize he had.
“Sorry.” Clint muttered with a smile.
Bucky huffed and drew him back in for another kiss, fingers brushing over his jaw like he can smooth out the bruises with a touch.
When they pulled apart their teammates were rolling their eyes and getting ready for the next match.
He playfully bumped Clint's shoulder earning him a classic Clint Barton chuckle that could leave his head dizzy if he listened to it long enough.
Bucky reluctantly ripped his attention away from his boyfriend to reload his gun and check that he still had all his knives.
He glanced over to see Clint still staring at him. Even simple eye contact had his heart chasing after itself, trying to pump all the blood rushing around.
Bucky smirked and gave him the finger, hoping it would encourage him to focus. Clint simply grinned and childishly made a heart with his hands that made Bucky's stomach pleasantly swoop with affection.