winterhawkkisses:

242. 

“How much of that did you hear?”

There was a slight movement by his foot, but no other acknowledgement. Clint slid down the wall to sit, reaching over with one hand to pet gently, like that was gonna make this any better. 

“Look, you gotta know, me and your dad – we love each other, okay? No matter how much we shout, that’s always gonna be…” He sighed, and his hand fell still. “No matter how much I screw up.”

Clint let out a long breath and leaned his head back against the wall. 

“‘cos I screwed up, and I can acknowledge that. I do get that. I’m just not -” his chin was rough when he scratched at it: a night on the couch, cleaning up in the guest bathroom. “I’m not so good when people are yelling. Brings out the stubborn, and once that happens I can’t pull it back until we’re done. And I can’t -” 

He let the silence tick by for a time. 

“Done’s never gonna come from me. Not with your dad. I’ll die before I’m done with him.” 

There was a mutter of low swearing from the kitchen, and Clint bit his lip. 

“How much of that did you hear?” he said. 

“Quit talking to the Roomba, you asshole,” Bucky said, “and come here and kiss me.”