A War of Endearments

A Word: Prompt for these two and terms of endearment, with Russian terms being a bonus. The links don't work very well here, so all I can say is open up Google Translate towards the end of the fic.

.

.

Bucky starts it.

He waits for the whole team get up after a particularly boring debrief before casually walking past Clint as he's stretching and smacking his ass hard enough for the slap to damn near ring in the room, "I'm sticking around for some range time, sweetheart, I'll see you back home later."

Clint has an entire flight back to the Tower to contemplate all the different ways he's going to end the asshole. A five minute flight filled with Tony's non stop ribbing and an increasingly uncomfortable silence from Steve who Bucky has sworn he was going to let in on the fact they were sleeping together.

In the end, Clint let it go, because as satisfying as it would be to smother Bucky in his sleep there isn't really much he can do that would make up for the awkward as fuck conversation he'd has with Steve when they do land and Thor drags Tony away. It's a good move that Clint can't easily top, and even though he burns at not being able to retaliate he's willing to settle for making Bucky bottom for a week straight. Which is less of a punishment than Clint'd like, but really, who was he to complain?

It would have ended then and there except not even a month later they're mopping up after some sort of gelatinous sea creature when he does it again.

The creature is dead, or at least not moving, and the media has arrived in full force. Barely held back by some poor rookie agents as they shout questions at them all. They're getting ready to unass the area before an 'incident' can happen when Bucky comes up to Clint. A fist full of salvageable arrows in hand.

"Thanks," Clint takes the arrows and doesn't bother glancing at them as he slots them into his quiver. The whole thing needs to be cleaned anyway after a disastrous flight with Tony landed them both in the midst of the creature's slimy trail.

"No problem, babe," Bucky answers. Loud and smug as he walks past him toward where their flight out is landing, and making a damn obvious show of groping Clint's ass on the way. There's a sudden silence in the crowd behind them, and Clint swears he can feel a millions eyes focusing on him in that second. Bucky's voice sounds even louder in that silence. "Let's go home and order out for dinner."

Clint doesn't look back even as the media vultures start calling out his codename along with even more questions. He meets Natasha's amused stare from across the wrecked field and nods grimly once. It's so fucking on now.

He waits a few days. Waits for Bucky and Steve to do that thing they do at least once a month if not more. To put on clothing that looks too old for them and disappear in the city to hunt out place that are familiar to them. He waits until Bucky's patting down his pockets and frowning to come out with the man's wallet in hand.

Clint presses the wallet into his gloved left hand and presses a light kiss to his cheek, "You forgot it in my room, lover. You two have fun."

Clint's gone before Bucky can even open his mouth or Steve can stop himself from looking as thrown as he still is by them. Clint likes the man, he really does, but it's become very apparent that Bucky had cultivated a very specific image of himself back in the 40's and it's throwing Steve to see it's not as true as he thought.

The two of them are due a long, and personal talk so Clint doesn't feel too guilty at illuminating the elephant in the room before one of their guys nights out.

He celebrates his win with Natasha and he graciously allows her to drink him under her artsy coffee table that probably cost Tony a lot of money he isn't aware is gone.

Clint's expecting retaliation, but the nature of the game they've entered means he can't predict how long it will take before Bucky makes his move. Clint also keeps his own eyes peeled for another chance to slip in his own attack. Not as good as the one that got Steve and Bucky talking, and finally eased some of that awkwardness from Steve when he's around Clint, but something close enough to count.

It's just his luck that Bucky finds an opening first. It's not even a threat that warrants the Avenger's intervention, just the run of the mill hate mongering threat aimed at a group of people. Cookie cutter situation and threats that pop up all over the country when June rolls around and the streets fill with rainbow flags and the annual Pride Parade gears up.

The Avengers are overkill for it, but they'd been specifically requested. Fury had denied the request, as he did with anything that didn't actually need them, but Tony had the misfortune of hearing about it. The man's love of events and causing a stir combined with a very well hidden guilt streak Steve has been harboring over his less than perfect acceptance of Bucky's relationship in ways that have become dangerous to Clint's mental health. It's a totally unfounded guilt that Tony obviously played up on to get Steve to agree to this.

The streets are packed so tightly that Clint can react even if something were to happen. It's loud and too much is happening too close to him for his own peace of mind. He's in civilians, and that's helping some, only one person seems to have recognized him even after that stunt Bucky pulled in front of the cameras. He really wants nothing more than to get off the street though. To get up high where he's more comfortable, and not being mobbed by happy strangers.

Clint actually hates Tony just a little bit when a woman screams into his face and blows purple glitter all over him.

Hands grab him from behind and Clint bites back the urge to jab his elbow back hard. He reconsiders that reaction when he realizes the left hand pulling him back isn't a flesh and blood hand. "Любовь моя, приди ко мне," Bucky husks into his ear, and Clint can't help shivering at it.

"Asshole," Clint grunts as he turns around and meets Bucky's laughing eyes. The man's in civilians too, along with the glove that covers his left hand. Without the mask and obvious symbol on the prosthetic, Bucky is as anonymous as Clint. "Glad to see you're having fun."

"And you're not, прекрасный ястреб," Bucky says and Clint isn't fluent in the least despite Natasha's best attempts to teach Clint, but the gist is enough to make Clint growl even as Bucky pulls him closer. "Why do you have glitter all over your face?"

"Because Tony," Clint answers and does his best to ignore the way the crowd is reacting to them. Smiling and giving them looks that are meant to include them in the parade. It prickles at Clint more than it should after a life time of making sure he stayed above and separate from the world. "It's all Tony's fault."

"Ты красивая," Bucky says with a grin that's pure asshole as he spins Clint into the crowd. Bouncing a little on his toes in a way that almost makes him seem like he's dancing, and Clint gives some serious thought into jabbing his thumb into a soft area of his neck when Bucky's next spin breaks them free of the crowd. Puts them into a tiny little bubble of space that's like an oasis among the sea of people.

It's the opening to a dead end alley that already looks like it's been used for a few quick fucks going by the discarded condoms on the ground, but Bucky heads straight for a rusty ladder. "Let's go up, I know how much you like hanging off dangerously high places."

Clint follows quickly, his threatening headache easing with each rung he climbs. The air is clearer when he rolls over the roof lip, and Clint closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath. The last bit of tension caused by the crowd bleeding away from him.

They're still there, still loud, but they're below him. Separate. And Clint can deal with that much better now up here. Clint opens his eyes and find Bucky watching him with a smirk that's somehow soft. "You keep this shit up and I just might fall in love with you," Clint squints up into the sky for a second, not prepared for this but coming up with the one name that comes to mind first, "baby cheeks."

"Yeah?" Bucky sounds smug as he slides up next to Clint, arm winding low around his waist as they both look down to see a red, white, and blue clad Steve getting swallowed up by the crowd who seem utterly delighted to have Captain America walking with them. "Guess I'll just have to try harder. I was kind of aiming to have you already in love with me by now you know?"

"Dumbass," Clint grins and throws his own arm over Bucky's shoulder. Fingers tapping an irregular beat against Bucky's arm as they watch the parade. Long and short beats that don't fit the music filtering up to them.

It takes a while, a good ten minutes longer than Clint thought it would for Bucky to go still. His mind finally catching the morse code that Clint's been tapping against his arm. "A little slow on the uptake there, dear?"

"You know-" Bucky sounds almost furious, and Clint laughs as his feet get kicked out from under him. He lands too softly for it to be real though and Bucky drops down over him. Caging him in with his arms, "Люблю тебя всем сердцем, всей душою."

"That a yes?" Clint asks as palms a box out from his pants. One that Tony had given to him as a joke months ago, and Clint's replaced the gaudy -but real, and thank you Stark for the rainy day fund- ring inside of it with something simpler. A dark, matte band that will look exactly like the metal of his left hand.

"Yes, you son of a bitch," Bucky laughs and doesn't even so much as look at the ring as he leans down to press Clint into the roof with a hard kiss. "Don't think this means you've won though," Bucky pulls back just far enough to mutter.

"Wouldn't dream of it honey," Clint manages to get out before Bucky's kissing him again, and the sound of the crowd on the streets drowns out anything else for them both.

.

.