winterhawkkisses:

613.

Clint watched the beautiful cryptid from the fifth floor pause in front of Clint’s apartment, and he experienced that helpless, awed kinda feeling that sits like champagne on the stomach, like if he’d seen a double rainbow or a baby futzin deer.

“Hey,” he said, low as he could make it, careful, and the cryptid whirled around and scowled at him, shoulders hunched and hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“My heating’s fucked,” he said, harsh and abrupt, and Clint nodded, easing up the last couple steps and toward his front door. The beautiful cryptid edged kinda sideways, eyeing him warily, circling around until he had the escape route of the stairs safely accessible.

“I’ll just grab my tools,” Clint said, jerking his head at his front door, and then winced a little, apologetic. “Gonna have to come into your apartment to fix it, sorry. I can let myself in and get it done when you’re not there, if that works better for you?”

Cryptid scowled at him – remained scowling at him, ‘cos it wasn’t like he’d eased up any since Clint had appeared – but his body language changed. Clint was well aware from the glimpses he’d gotten over the weeks that the guy was jacked, but with his jaw clenched and his shoulders squared he looked like he could hardcore fuck somebody up.

It would be creepy to think ‘yes, please,’ about that, so Clint tried really hard not to.

“You know which apartment I’m in?” He said, and Clint winced again. Like, he’d knocked on the guy’s door before, was he really that unmemorable? Also –

“I’m your landlord,” Clint said, a little bemused, “alongside being resident handyman. You didn’t know that?”

The cryptid rubbed a hand across his face; when he removed it again the flash of – what, defeat? – was entirely gone.

“Sorry,” he said, looking at the floor and shrinking down into himself again. “I don’t always remember so good.”

Huh.

Clint sent a smile his way, mind turning this over curiously.

“I can tell you as many times as you need that I’m Clint, man,” he said.

The cryptid smiled and Clint’s goddamn heart let off confetti. “Bucky,” he said.