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Movie Date II: the Squeequel
Something that was starting to occur to Bucky as he spent more one-on-one time with Clint in ways that weren’t exclusively competing on the range or zoning out over bowls of cereal in the communal kitchen when their nightmares lined up, was that Clint was the first person to talk himself out of something good.
So when Bucky had asked Clint to be his movie date, Clint had at some point decided that meant Bucky only wanted what they had shared that first day, or something along the lines of what Clint did with Natasha during the weekly team building movie night. If there wasn’t a movie on in front of them there was zero change in how Clint interacted with Bucky, who to be fair was a little uncomfortable with public displays of affection so not trying to hold Clint’s hand, but it was still a little disconcerting.
It had honestly taken Bucky a little longer than he liked to admit to realize what was going on - he had started tagging along to Clint’s apartment building to help with maintenance and love on Lucky several times a week, followed by another horror movie or two depending on time. They had already gotten through the seven other Chucky movies, and then had returned to the 80s with the Shining. When they watched the Labyrinth Clint had very awkwardly disclosed to Bucky how David Bowie had been his bisexual awakening while staring at Bucky out of the corner of his eye. Given that Bucky had had a hard time tearing his eyes away from the codpiece dominating the screen he hadn’t clocked Clint’s mannerisms at the time, instead just nodded his head in distracted agreement.
It was later that night when Bucky was replaying the afternoon’s interactions did he realize the potential significance. On its own, the comment didn’t have much merit, but paired with Clint’s reticence to display any physical affection with Bucky outside of their movie viewing Bucky couldn't help but wonder if Clint understood that the pair of them were actually dating. Bucky had thus far assumed Clint was taking it painfully slow, probably in some misguided belief that Bucky would want it slow due to trauma or old-timey sensibilities, and had expertly avoided any hint that Bucky might take it further than cuddling on the couch. Bucky had found the idea that Clint thought Bucky would need things nice and glacial endearing so he tolerated that aspect while thoroughly he enjoyed the “getting to know you” portion of the relationship as they spent more and more time together.
But if Clint wasn’t positive Bucky even liked guys? Clearly Bucky needed to do something drastic. The obvious answer would be to sit down and discuss intention and expectation like mature adults, but that wasn’t really the style of either of them. Bucky still had a hard time vocalizing wants, a hold over from his time with Hydra.
Bucky decided he needed to treat this like a mission and started to plan how to get Clint in a situation where adrenalin could push both of them past their insecurities and kickstart the relationship Bucky was sure Clint wanted but didn’t think was on offer.
—
A week later Clint’s phone lit up and buzzed with the text notification.
[Bucky] got a new movie recc. said we have to watch @ nite tho
[Clint] yeah? what is it?
[Bucky] a good one. lets go 2 yours 2nite
[Clint] dunno if i want to catch the trains back to the tower after
[Bucky] you inviting me to sleepover? ;)
Clint nearly dropped his phone.
—-
That night found them nestled on the couch after the popcorn was finished even without Lucky on hand to have helped; Bucky had convinced Clint that Lucky and the boy he stayed with at night needed to maintain their sleep schedules so the pup was at Simone’s. Bucky jostled Clint lightly with his shoulder, gently pulling his attention from a tense moment on the screen.
“Hey, I need to hit the head,” his words pitched low into Clint’s ear. “Don’t pause it on my account.” With that he extracted himself from Clint’s tight grip and navigated up the stairs in the dark before Clint could really respond. Bucky knew Clint wouldn’t have minded pausing the picture but it played to his advantage to leave it on.
Bucky trod heavily on his way up the stairs to the bathroom, opening and closing the door with enough force that if Clint was listening for it he could probably have heard the door snick shut but did not actually cross the threshold. Instead he ducked down in a low crouch and crossed the floor to the area behind Clint’s bed, keeping in the deep shadows. Once in position, his enhanced hearing assured him that Clint had zero suspicions that he was up to anything other than his stated intentions and he began to reach under the mattress for the items he had stashed the other day. Everything was exactly as he had left it.
Bucky crept forward with his loot and once he had edged around the mattress he switched to a low crawl, until he could peek over the loft edge and saw that Clint had not moved an inch. He was in the middle of the couch, reclined against the back of it, but the arms wrapped tight around his torso gave away his nerves, as did the occasional glances towards the loft. Bucky saw Clint’s throat working and wondered if Clint was refraining from calling out his name.
Bucky reached out with the small black device in his hand and hit a button, and suddenly the screen switched to loud static, lighting up the room directly in front of the television set, much brighter than what had been happening on the screen moments ago.
“Oh shit!” Bucky heard Clint bite out as he shot upright on the edge of his seat. “Oh fuck.” Bucky heard Clint try to control his breathing, as shaky as it was, but when Bucky intentionally dropped the remote he had used to cut the movie off and it bounced off the lower hardwood floor with a resounding clatter Clint gave up any pretense of not freaking out and somersaulted over the far arm of the couch, away from the noise.
“Bucky?” Clint called out tentatively, voice faltering into the static continuing to ring into the otherwise soundless room. Bucky didn’t answer, only angled the white barrel into position and sighted down the gold scope sitting atop to watch for Clint’s blond thatch to pop into view.
Clint slowly unfolded himself from his crouch, calling out Bucky’s name a second time. As soon as enough of his forehead emerged Bucky pulled on the orange trigger - the loud squeak that erupted from Clint as the orange tipped gold dart struck him was adorable and Bucky couldn’t help the snicker of laughter that escaped him though he did his best to reel it in quickly.
“Oh you rat bastard!” Clint exclaimed, diving back down for cover.
“Reach under the couch,” Bucky suggested. He heard Clint follow his suggestion and pull out his own Nerf weapons, the plastic scraping the floor.
“Oh, hell yes. It is on like Donkey Kong!”
Clint launched a few test rounds to get a feel for how the soft rubber balls acted. With a mad cackle he aimed towards the middle of the ceiling and guessed at Bucky’s location based on the angle the dart and words had come from. He pulled the trigger on the toy and sent a rush of orange spheres upwards that hit the perfect angle to ricochet down onto Bucky’s prone form.
Bucky squawked and rolled several times to the left to escape the barrage of bullets, but didn’t leave the edge of the loft and as soon as he cleared Clint’s attack he returned fire with two quickly, but accurately, aimed darts. Clint paused his own assault to duck under cover again.
“You can’t hide there all night,” Bucky taunted.
“Damn right I’m not gonna be here all night,” Clint tried to snark back, but his voice was full of laughter. “I’m gonna come up there and get your ass.”
“Aw, poor baby, did ‘ums get scared?” Clint didn’t respond to the taunt, he absolutely was not going to admit that Bucky really had gotten him good with his prank. His heart was still pounding. “I’d like to see you try to get up here and ‘get my ass.’” Clint’s heart began to pound even harder and suddenly the air in the room seemed thick.
Clint pulled his previous maneuver and again calculated the correct angle for where Bucky had rolled to safety, the laughter confirming his accuracy. As soon as he heard Bucky moving Clint leapt to his feet, planted one foot on the couch arm and used it to vault himself towards the bookshelf at the opposite end. He paused to spray another round of suppressive fire towards where he thought Bucky was and then clambered up the shelves, thankful he had used heavy duty furniture anchors when he had installed them for when he babysat Simone’s kids.
After he climbed to the top of the bookshelf he shoved the toy weapon down the back of his shirt, which was tight enough to keep the bulky plastic in place, and launched himself at the metal railings that lined the loft. He got both hands onto the lower rung and had no difficulty pulling himself up and over to the higher level.
Clint started to break for the far side of his bed, knowing he was presenting Bucky a full target from where he was still positioned, but when he glanced over he saw Bucky lying there on his side frozen, mouth agape.
“What? Like it’s hard?” Clint mocked, and snagged the toy back out of his shirt and took aim, but found himself hesitating as Bucky continued to stare.
“Jesus Christ, Clint. Those fucking arms.” The last word was drawn out, and Bucky finally moved, getting to his knees.
Clint felt the tips of his ears and cheeks burn.“Yeah?” he asked awkwardly.
“I nearly swallowed my damn tongue.”
Now Clint was the one frozen in place as Bucky stalked forward on his knees - something that Clint wouldn’t have expected to be attractive until Bucky crossed those few feet towards him, eyes darkly intent on his face. Despite, or because of, the magnetic pull Bucky exerted on him Clint started to shuffle a step backwards in escape; Bucky surged to his feet and caught Clint’s face in his hands before he could reopen the distance. Clint stared wide-eyed, panting shallow breaths as his grip went lax and the toy gun fell to the floor.
“Clint,” Bucky started, head tipped back fractionally, and swallowed hard, searching for the right words. “Clint, why do you keep pulling away? I want this so badly, but every time I try and have more with you, you start running.”
Clint looked thunderstruck in his disbelief.“You want?”
“Yes, Clint, I want. I want you. And I want to do more than just cuddle on the couch.” Bucky allowed his hands to slip down until they were cupped around the back of Clint’s neck. “You gotta tell me if you don’t want. Look, I’m not trying to pressure you into something, but I thought when I asked you out and you said yes that you wanted this too.”
“Oh god, oh god Bucky, I’m sorry. I didn’t, I didn’t think,” Clint struggled to get his tumultuous thoughts in order and cut himself off as he saw Bucky start to shutter himself off, hiding hurt behind the Winter Soldier mask he so rarely brought out those days. Clint surged forward and landed his lips on Bucky’s briefly before pulling back just enough to speak again, his words landing hot on Bucky’s mouth. “I didn’t think you liked me like that.”
“You dumbass. Of course I do, why else would I ask you out?”
“I dunno, just seemed too good to be true I guess. Look, let's talk about messy feelings later. The dog’s at Simone’s so we’ve got the loft to ourselves, and apparently you want me as much as I’ve been wanting you,” Clint let the words trail off as he slid his hands around Bucky’s waist and began herding him gently in the direction of the bed. “Seems like too good of an opportunity to waste.”
The back of Bucky’s knees hit the mattress and he allowed Clint to push him down onto it, his heart and adrenaline soaring. Clint covered Bucky’s body with his own, capturing his mouth in an inelegant, devouring kiss with just this side of too much teeth. Bucky responded in kind, pressing up against Clint, straining for more. As Clint’s mouth began to alternate open mouth kisses and stinging bites down the length of his jaw before devoting attention to the hollow behind his ear Bucky’s head fell back against the pillow while he panted for breath, hands shoving underneath Clint’s shirt and raking his blunt nails across the flushed skin.
A low groan escaped Clint’s throat while he continued to tongue firmly at the hinge of Bucky’s jaw; when Clint used his tongue to draw Bucky’s earlobe in his mouth and gently suckle the juxtaposition sent shivers down his spine. Bucky’s hands continued to map the muscles of Clint’s back and shoulders, pulling him in tight as their hips ground together.
Clint released Bucky’s earlobe with a faint wet noise and ran the tip of his tongue up the outer shell, breath and words ghosting in.“How far do you want to go with this?”
Bucky wanted-he absolutely wanted anything and everything—eventually. He had even imagined all of it with Clint, often while in the shower, but now that the reality of it was in front of him he was overwhelmed by the amount of choice and freedom Clint’s question presented. Suddenly the static still playing on the TV somehow tripled in volume and lodged itself in his brain. What if he over committed, what if something triggered him? All the confidence and carefully laid plans that had carried him to where he wanted to be that evening—pinned under Clint’s mouth, hands and body—fled.
As desperately as Bucky had wanted this for months he was at a loss for words - he knew he wanted it all eventually, but it had been a long time since Bucky had done anything intimate with another person; his tattered memories from back then were so incomplete he wasn’t sure what he had actually experienced before or could handle in the current moment.
Clint watched all of that play out across Bucky’s face and gently recaptured Bucky’s mouth with his own, peppering his words with soft kisses drastically different from the frenzy of before.
“There are no wrong answers here. We can just sit, well, lay here, and make out,” Clint offered. “We’ve got plenty of time to go further later. I’m just so goddamn thrilled you actually want me.” Clint began to trail kisses towards Bucky’s left shoulder sedately, using his mouth to sooth instead of inflame. As the static retreated from his ears Bucky noticed that Clint was no longer pressing his lower half so firmly against him and he mourned the loss.
“I, uh,” Bucky cleared his throat and tried again, attempting to shrug his shoulder in a way that subtly maneuvered Clint’s mouth back to his neck and away from the metal. “Of course I want you. I want your hands on me. I want to feel you. I want to make you feel good.”
“I think we can manage that,” Clint said, the signals that he was not comfortable with shoulder kisses noted and followed without comment. Clint knelt back and tugged his own shirt off to toss aside, before using his fingertips to push the hem of Bucky’s up several inches as he leaned back down and nipped at Bucky’s lower lip. Clint trailed his fingers over Bucky’s hard abs along the line of denim, lightly enough to elicit a shiver.
“Are you ticklish?”
“It’s just been a while since....”
“Don’t worry babe, I’ve got you,” and caught Bucky’s mouth in a deep kiss and tangled their tongues together . Clint settled himself slightly to Bucky’s left side instead of directly atop, and ran his free hand up and down Bucky’s front, ghosting his fingers over the nipples occasionally. Bucky’s left arm curled around his back and pulled him in tighter as they continued to kiss, Bucky’s right hand awkwardly placed on Clint's hip.
Once Bucky relaxed under Clint’s ministrations Clint withdrew enough from the kiss to sink his teeth into Bucky’s lower lip at the same time that he twisted Bucky’s right nipple hard, immediately soothing it with his fingertips afterwards while Bucky tensed upwards in a way that shouted pleasure instead of anxiety.
Clint released Bucky’s lip and returned his attention to Bucky’s sensitive ears, thrilled by how Bucky lit up under him. Bucky's right hand slid down Clint’s thigh while his left gripped at his ass, Clint’s erection ground into Bucky’s hip and bent Clint's leg just high enough for Bucky to find some friction of his own. Clint groaned at the hard evidence that Bucky wanted this and shifted a little further into the y of Bucky’s legs, and undulated his hips slowly.
“This okay?” he checked in, back to sucking bruises that wouldn’t stay on Bucky’s neck, fingertips skirting underneath Bucky’s waistband giving tiny tugs as they passed over the button.
Bucky nodded and tilted up his hips in invitation, but Clint didn’t change his movements.
“Please,” he finally choked out, a flush spread across his cheeks. Bucky felt like his skin was on fire, he couldn’t stop the tiny movements he was making on the bed, his entire body rolled rhythmically against Clint’s. Clint’s mouth followed where those movements led him, obsessed with how the Winter Soldier was writhing underneath him from so little touch-he felt awed by it, and it was hard to keep a tight leash on his own screaming desire that insisted he should be buried inside the other man already.
Bucky deserved to be worshiped, deserved every moment of time and touch he had been deprived of over the last seventy years—and Clint wanted to be the one to give every little thing, tangible or not, Bucky could want or need. Clint sucked Bucky’s lip back into his mouth and kissed him languidly while he deftly undid the belt buckle with one hand—Bucky raised his hips off of the bed enough to allow Clint to slide it off without conscious thought. After the belt was deposited in the direction of the nightstand Clint returned his hand to the fly of Bucky’s jeans, taking a moment to toy with it before undoing both the button and zipper.
Bucky groaned into Clint's mouth as the tightness of his pants slackened around his painfully hard cock; then immediately his breath caught in his throat as Clint’s hand dipped into the opening and cupped the length of him through the cotton of his boxer briefs and squeezed.
“Jesus Mary and Joseph,” exploded from his mouth once his lungs unfroze.
“Nope, just Clint,” joked the man who had returned to bite lightly at his neck. The joke cut the last of the tension and Bucky’s hips tried to surge into Clint’s hand as best they could while he was still anchored under Clint’s weight. Clint rubbed his thumb over the top of Bucky’s cock through the damp cloth. “Still okay?”
“Yes. God yes. Let me touch you,” Bucky demanded, all hesitancy gone. Clint rolled away from Bucky long enough to divest himself of his own jeans, but left the obscenely tented purple boxers on and grabbed a bottle of lubricant from his bedside table. Bucky followed Clint’s lead and kicked off his pants while his legs were free.
Clint didn’t give Bucky’s anxiety time to return; he straddled Bucky’s waist, neck curved down for a kiss, hands planted on either side of his head. Bucky reached up and cupped Clint’s jaw in both of his hands, drawing out and deepening the kiss. When his hands let go Bucky trailed them down Clint's neck over his shoulders and pulled the length of him flush against him, rocking his body up into him, lips still locked.
This time Clint let Bucky’s hands set the pace, they mapped out the planes of Clint’s back and sides before one slipped in between the two torsos. Clint braced himself on one elbow with his back arched slightly to help give space while moving his mouth back to that tender spot behind Bucky’s ear.
Bucky’s fingers didn’t explore the angles of Clint’s hipbones and abs for long before they delved under the elastic and gripped Clint’s cock. An indescribable noise punched out of Clint as a single tremor ran through his body—both of which echoed through Bucky.
“Can I?” He asked and tugged at the waistband.
“Fuck yes,” Clint enthused, helping Bucky shove the shorts down to his knees. Bucky caught the bottle from where it had rolled and coated his hand so he could fist it around Clint’s cock, slowly pumping up and down the length of it as he wanted to savor the reactions.
“God,” Clint groaned. “Can I touch you?”
“After,” Bucky responded. He didn’t think he could handle his focus split between the two of them. The feel of Clint's cock in his hand and warm breath against his neck wasn’t something he wanted to give up yet.
“Okay,” Clint acquiesced before he demanded, “okay, but you gotta give me more.” Bucky firmed his grip as Clint began to rut into his fist; he gave it a slight twist on every other upstroke to swirl the edge of his grip over the head. The noises from became desperate and needy; his arm muscles trembled and lost the ability to support his weight as he sank further into Bucky, his cock head drove insistently into Bucky’s hard stomach as it thrust through Bucky’s hand.
Bucky adjusted the angle of his grip and tightened it slightly.
“Bucky! Buck, I’m gonna-“Clint shuddered out, unable to finish his warning before he exploded, hot stripes of come splattered over Bucky’s stomach and shirt. Clint stilled in place as Bucky wrung the last of his orgasm from him, forehead resting on Bucky’s shoulder, back still arched and knees planted on the bed between Bucky’s. Bucky turned his head and placed a gentle kiss in Clint’s hair while the other man caught his breath. As he started to feel a hair awkward Bucky let go of Clint’s cock and dropped his hand to his stomach, unsure if he should try to wipe it off on the sheets or not.
“Do you think you’re up for me to return the favor?” Clint asked once his mind settled. Bucky hesitated—he wasn’t sure what to do about the mess on his hand or stomach, but the experience of Clint going to pieces on top of him had left him harder than he could ever remember having been. “I’d really like to get my mouth on you.”
Bucky closed his eyes and swallowed hard and nodded vigorously, as all thought in his mind vanished. He no longer noticed the thick, cooled liquid on his body that had so recently been a concern. Bucky forced his eyes open to meet Clint’s and mouthed a plea at him.
Clint lobbed a lopsided, confident grin at him and scooted back to kneel on the floor. He surprised Bucky when he produced paper towels from nearby and silently wiped the worst of the mess that had bothered Bucky away. Clint offered Bucky a sheet for his hand, and while he was distracted licked a wet stripe the length of Bucky’s cock.
“Oh, god!” he gasped out, right hand convulsively clenching on the towel still wrapped between his fingers while his left arm flung across the bed and left Bucky splayed open to the ceiling. Clint took his cock in hand to help with positioning while he shot Bucky another wicked grin, then demonstrated his ‘sword’ swallowing skills.
It did not take long before Bucky was a desperate mess beneath Clint’s ministrations; it was all he could do to keep his hips from forcing upwards into Clint’s face and to keep his volume down.
“Bucky,” Clint cajoled; he ran his hand up and down Bucky’s cock while he paused, and skirted his lips over muscled thighs. “You don’t have to hold back, Bucky. There’s no one to hear you here, and I want to know you’re enjoying it.”
“Fuck Clint,” he ground out, still a hoarse whisper. “I’m enjoying it. Christ, I'm enjoying it.”
“Fuck my face Buck, I want to swallow you down,” Clint whispered back as he stared into his eyes, then after one lick at the tip sank back onto Bucky’s cock until his lips were flush at the base. He held himself down there for several long seconds and worked his throat and heard low groans pulled from Bucky.
Clint pulled back, cheeks hollowed as he went and then sat with the last inch of Bucky’s cock wrapped in mouth and made aggressive eye contact. Bucky didn’t last a five count before he submitted to the demands and thrust up into Clint’s mouth. Bucky’s left hand untwisted from the sheets and fisted into blond hair.
Clint felt spit run down his chin as Bucky enthusiastically followed directions and just held on for the ride. Clint’s head was held high enough that Bucky’s cock only occasionally jabbed at the back of his throat, infrequent and sudden enough to keep him unused to the invasion and trigger his gag response. The way Clint’s mouth convulsed around Bucky was apparently doing it for the other man and Clint packaged each new noise Bucky made to replay later. Clint’s reassurance that he wanted to hear seemed to have helped—Bucky was progressively louder, and when he came it was with a shouted ‘fuck’ before he collapsed back to the mattress he hadn’t even realized he had begun to lift off of.
Clint eagerly swallowed the come before he levered himself to his elbows to watch Bucky’s sculpted pecs jump erratically beneath him and in an effort to catch his breath. His eyes were closed, face flushed, and he still held the paper towel in his fist. Clint felt a swell of affection and thought he could be dangerously close to love already. Clint might have a hard time with the thought people could want him, but he had a habit of gifting his heart early to those he thought deserved love and Bucky certainly did.
“So, when can we Netflix and Chill again?”