“It’s not like I wasn’t gonna do it anyway, sooner or later.”
Clint’s voice is low, the way people get in too-large rooms, the way people get when everyone else is asleep. Not everyone, of course; him and Natalia had been all curled up together on the couch there, and Bucky can just about see the movement as she reaches up to comb through his chaotic hair.
“That’s not the point,” she says, and her voice is a careful disguise under which the anger can barely be heard at all. “You should be able to choose.”
“And I am,” Clint answers her, sounding sheepish, sounding sad. “I’m choosing to do what I can to get that recording back, ‘cos it’s better than choosing the humiliation of having people listen to it; it was bad enough when I thought I was only telling you.”
Bucky eases a little further back into the shadows of the kitchen, wishes there were an easy way to ease past them, wishes it were possible to sneak past the pair of goddamn superspies on the couch. Clint’s been a little skittish around him, and this – overhearing his secrets – there’s no way this can make it anything but worse. He might have to speak to Natalia, though, once Clint has gone to bed. He might have to find whoever or whatever has put that note in Clint’s voice and very thoroughly set it on fire.
“Still -”
“Look at it as a good thing,” Clint says, and he wants agreement here, Bucky can tell. “They get the world exclusive they’re after, and little queer kids all over the country get their first confirmed not straight Avenger. Maybe I’ll move up the rankings, huh? America’s Second Least Favourite Avenger.”
“Clint.”
“I can have a float in the Pride parade next year, right? Tony can bankroll the acres of purple tulle. Shit, Tasha, if I’da had five minutes to myself to think, these last couple years, I’d’ve come out myself a hell of a lot sooner.”
Natalia sighed and shifted herself a little more upright, poking and prodding until she had them in a position she was comfortable with. It was most likely with Clint sprawled out, his head in her lap – it was when he was at his most boneless. It was when Bucky always had to leave the room, hands flexing against nothing.
“If you want to come out we can arrange that,” she said softly. “As soon as we have castrated this man and retrieved the recording -”
“It’s fine,” Clint said, “I promise, Tasha, I’m fine with it. I’m mostly worried about Bucky.”
He shifted, startled. Natalia’s eyes flicked to the movement, but she didn’t otherwise react. He didn’t for a moment allow himself to believe that he was safe.
“I mean,” Clint continued, oblivious, “finding out your teammate is kind of in love with you – can you imagine the media pressure? I don’t want people bellowing shit in his face about it. He doesn’t deserve that.”
Bucky’s heart was doing something uncomfortable in his chest. His stomach was hollow. It wasn’t easy to translate those sensations into words.
“And what about what you deserve?” Natalia asked, subdued.
“Let’s not go there,” Clint said, “’cos I’ve sure as hell got better than whatever it is.”
“I’m -” Bucky gaped, and he could feel the warmth as a wash of colour rose to his cheeks. “I’m *cute*? You -”
“Look, you asked, I told, you can’t -”
“- broke into a goddamned art gallery because -”
“- get mad at me for telling the truth, Sergeant Barnes!”
“- you think I’m *cute*?!”
“I’ve done worse to impress a guy.”
Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, taking in a slow breath and counting to ten.
“This is insane,” he said. “You get this is insane, right?”
The Hawk leaned against the wall and crossed his legs at the ankle, wearing a smirk below his distinctive purple mask like there wasn’t bulletproof glass between them, like he wasn’t trapped and gonna end up in jail.
“I mean, it’s not the first time that’s been said.” He shrugged, and Bucky cursed himself soundly when his eyes dropped to the breadth of the guy’s shoulders, his biceps where his body armor left them bare.
“Well I hope this was worth it,” he said, and reached for the radio hooked onto his stab vest, wincing as it only squealed feedback when he pressed the button.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” the Hawk said. “We got a guy who does that kinda thing. Hacker, problems with authority, you know how it goes.”
“We?” Bucky asked – hey, he was preventing the guy from attempting an escape, attempting to source information about his operation, and that was the only reason he was keeping the guy talking. Wasn’t like he was interested, not even a little.
“Oh yeah,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. Bucky’s mouth went a little dry. “Yeah, there’s a whole team of us. See, we figure someone’s gotta stand up for the little guy – these big corporations, they take what they want. We steal it back.”
“So you’re, what, Robin Hood?”
“If the natty green hat fits,” the Hawk said. He grinned, wide and pretty, and Bucky fleetingly wondered what he looked like under the mask. “I’m the thief, my best friend’s a grifter, Tony looks after the machines. Then there’s the honest man who keeps us all in line, plans the heists, picks the clients. He’s our golden boy,” he said, and his grin slid sideways and back into a smirk, and Bucky felt a creeping suspicion that he really didn’t wanna have to look at straight on.
Stevie’s new guy, the one he’d been fluttering over for weeks, hadn’t he been called – ?
“Hate to love you and leave you,” the Hawk said, as there was the distinctive whine of an electric screwdriver from somewhere behind the bulletproof glass, “but I’m afraid that’s my ride. You ever get sick of being a boy scout, we could always use someone who’s good with their fists.”
“Hey,” Bucky said, coming back to attention, taking a couple futile steps forward when a coil of rope hit the floor beside the Hawk. “Hey, *no*!”
“Clint,” a woman’s voice snapped, somewhere overhead, but Bucky could barely hear it, too busy seeing goddamned red.
“Aaw,” the Hawk whined, wrapping the rope around his arm and starting to reluctantly climb, “but he’s so cute when he’s mad.”
Bucky isn’t so great at swimming any more. He can swim, it’s not impossible, but it takes a hell of a lot of strength and effort to make progress against the dragging weight of his arm. It’s sure as hell not something he does any more for fun.
Clint, he’s in his goddamn element. A pool is a perfect place for useless acrobatics without having to make an excuse for them; it’s a situation built for a natural show-off, and Clint has been diving off things, flipping off things, encouraging people to stand on his broad fuckin’ shoulders… Bucky ain’t exactly able to keep it subtle, but Clint’s so busy he doesn’t even notice he’s being watched.
“Tell him,” Steve says as he passes, not a subtle bone in his goddamn perfect body, and Bucky hooks his hand around the guy’s ankle and yanks it out from under him. The shriek he lets out as he falls into the pool is just about the best thing Bucky’s ever heard.
“Hey Clint,” Tony yells, and he’s hauling something huge and inflated behind him, shaped like a goddamn pineapple. “I found – “
“That’s for Bucky,” Clint calls back, and looks over to him with a stupid-wide grin. He’s standing chest-deep in the water, the sunlight glinting off droplets of water on his shoulders, in his hair, and he’s beautiful in a way that makes Bucky feel weak.
“Sure,” Tony says, and tosses the pineapple into the water, huge and ungainly and big enough for someone to lie on.
Bucky regards it, eyebrow raised, and Clint rubs at the back of his neck and looks a little sheepish.
“I figured – you kinda looked like you wanted in on this.”
“He sure as hell wanted something.”
“Shut the fuck up, Stevie,” Bucky says, not looking away from the pineapple that Clint’s holding onto, the way he’s contrived for Bucky to be a part of the team.
Bucky gives in and slides into the water, a couple of quick efficient strokes taking him over to where Clint is. He slides his hand down Clint’s leg a little, hooks around his ankle, easiest thing in the world to resist. Clint lets him take him off balance, though, lets him pull him underwater with him, where Bucky doesn’t have to listen to Steve crowing when he ducks in for a kiss.
So thanks to Tales of Suspense, more peeps than ever are getting curious about Winterhawk – FINALLY GUYS, GOD HAVE YOU BEEN MISSING OUT. Following are some very obvious recs for the average newbie to this incredible ship.
(Any author who has been mentioned here who may be uncomfortable with it – lemme know and I’ll take your stuff off this list)
Bucky Barnes wakes up in the future, joins the Avengers, reunites with Steve, makes some new friends and some old enemies, gets called Robocop and tries to figure out the future, himself, and Clint Barton’s middle name – all while being haunted by his past, the things he can’t remember and the creeping suspicion that Black Widow knows something he doesn’t.
Clint Barton’s Super Secret Snipers’ Club. (Invitation and pending mental health evaluation required.)
“When Steve brings Bucky back to the tower for the first time, Clint’s first thought is that Tony Stark’s pride and joy is quickly becoming a less of a very tall and expensive ‘fuck you’ in the faces of investors who don’t believe in self-sustaining energy, and more of a superhero rehabilitation center.”
Boyfriends, compromises and learning to like oneself.
After a mission in Mexico goes wrong, SHIELD Agents Barnes and Rogers are given the job of hunting down the notorious Hawkeye and the Black Widow, the only problem being: no one even knows what they look like.
On the other side of the law, Clint’s enjoying messing with their new SHIELD shadows, especially seeing how close he can get to Agent Barnes without him realising, but he makes the mistake of getting attached, and that makes everything more complicated.
Yes, Clint is avoiding the other Avengers. No, he does not want to go back to New York. But then again, he didn’t exactly want to be kidnapped by the Winter Soldier either. Really, he just wants to go back to bed.
Through Clint’s big main window, you could see straight across the street and into the apartment opposite, where a man was standing, staring at Clint as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. When he caught Clint’s eye, he just shook his head slowly.
The guy in the apartment opposite spends way too much time watching Clint make a fool of himself, which wouldn’t matter as much if he weren’t also smoking hot.
Cap’s incredulous voice cuts through the stunned silence of the cockpit, loud and shocked. He’s standing there with his cowl in hand, gaping at the holo-screen at the front of the jet. Next to him, Tony is standing with his hands on his head, mouth hanging open in a similar fashion. Over on the other side of the cockpit is Jane, who has both palms clapped across her mouth like she’s trying to hold back hysterical giggles.
For his part, Bucky is just staring at the screen like he can’t quite believe what’s going on.
Clint let out a long sigh. “So, to recap: we can’t get ourselves out, we can’t talk to the others, we may run out of air, my shoulder is dislocated and Doom is an asshole.”
After breaking free from Hydra’s control, James Barnes is keeping his head down. Captain America and his team are miles away, and he’s better off alone. He’s not expecting to be found by an Avenger. An Avenger who proves hard to get rid of.
Somehow, in spite of himself, Hawkeye ends up growing on him, and he realises that maybe alone isn’t the best way to be.
But as Bucky’s working out his own past, Hawkeye’s coming face to face with his. They never should have gone to Budapest.
Aaaand to round things up, visit the awesome blog of @winterhawkkisses if you’re ever in the mood of beautifully written drabble-y winterhawk goodness. I could really go on and on with recs, but I’ll stop myself for now (until further demand? 😉 ) I realise now we have a sore deficiency of comics Winterhawk, but hopefully that’ll change soon with how the winds are currently blowing ❤
[image description: Bucky Barnes and Clint Barton in pajamas, laying on top of a bed. Clint holds Bucky’s metal arm against his chest. Lucky lays above them, sprawled out like a goober. The text, “Commission Example” floats over the bottom of the piece.]
Paradise is getting paid to draw the rarepair you love a never post about because you are a BAD FAN.
“Bucky!” Steve yelled, poking at the eggs to see if it was time to toast. “Hey, Buck!”
“Shh!” Bucky hissed, closing his bedroom door careful and quiet behind him. “Can you keep your damn voice down?”
Bucky was not a stranger to crazy bed-hair, but this morning’s was particularly spectacular, and there were a couple of bruises along the line of his neck. Steve grinned, genuinely happy and a lot amused, didn’t even have to say anything to have Bucky scowling.
“You got someone in there?”
“Shove it, nosy,” Bucky said, but there was a little curl to the corner of his mouth that he couldn’t bite down on.
“Special someone?” Steve asked, tried not to sound too obviously hopeful. He was for anything that brought the smile back to Bucky’s face.
“Maybe,” Bucky said, and the little tease of a grin settled in and made a home for itself. Steve couldn’t help grinning widely in response, and Bucky folded his arms. “Don’t, Stevie, okay? We’re takin’ it slow.”
“Uh-huh,” Steve said, and Bucky batted away the spatula Steve poked at his neck. “Looks like it.”
“This’s been coming a while,” Bucky said, and his smile turned soft and kind of tender, and it wasn’t a smile Steve knew so well. “I don’t wanna mess this up.”
“Hey,” Steve said, abandoned the eggs for a second and hauled him into a hug. “She’d be crazy to turn you down.”
Bucky turned his face against Steve’s neck, took a deep breath, let it out slow.
“He,” he said.
“Huh?”
“He’d be crazy,” Bucky said, and pulled away to eye Steve’s expression. Steve tried to convey support through eyebrows, and Bucky laughed and punched him in the arm.
“He gonna be wanting breakfast?” Steve asked, all casual.
“I dunno,” Bucky said, and looked for a second unaccountably nervous. “Guess I’ll go ask.”
He snagged the coffee pot on his way into his room – the whole thing, didn’t bother stopping for mugs.
To be honest, I think Bucky probably just owns a questionable amount of black clothes. But then again, Clint also probably owns a questionable amount of purple stuff so 😂😂😂
theproblemwithstardust 