Work Text:
Bucky starts a list in his spiral notebook.
Steve (would cry)
Spite (fuck those assholes)
Natalia (would exhume and reanimate me, then yell at me)
Modern hot water heaters
Haagen Dazs (dulce de leche)
It’s a short list.
He reluctantly shows it to his shrink. She looks very overwhelmed, but he doesn’t blame her.
+++
Bucky rubs his eyes a few times, but apparently this isn’t a hallucination.
“Barton,” he grunts. “The fuck are you doing?”
“Putting googly eyes on everything in the fridge.”
“It’s three in the morning.”
“Yep! Wanna help?”
Bucky blinks away the afterimages of that smile, thinking vaguely about moths — powdery wings beating against glass — and says helplessly, “Yeah, okay.”
+++
Much later, when he shuffles back to his room, he pulls the notebook from its hiding spot in his closet and adds a few new items.
Googly eyes
That noise Sam made when he opened the fridge
People who don’t ask stupid questions when I say I can’t sleep
Lucky Charms
+++
“Wait, what’s a youtube?”
“Oh, man, hasn’t anybody taught you about the internet?”
“Yes. I can hack into advanced security systems, organize arms deals, track —”
“No, the fun stuff.”
Bucky levels a very unimpressed glare at him. “Yes, the evil Nazis taught me all about fun.”
“I — yeah, okay, fair enough. But… Reddit? PornHub? Amazon?”
“I can’t tell if you’re fuckin’ with me or not.”
“Aw, man, this is gonna be great . You can get anything on the internet these days, I’ll — no, don’t give me that look, I’m not talking about the dark web. You’ll see.”
+++
Videos of dogs when owners come home
Videos of goats screaming
Animals who make friends with other animals
Videos of people cutting things neatly
Knowing other people get nightmares
Videos of children falling down
+++
A couple days after Clint teaches Bucky about Amazon, all the cutlery in the kitchen is mysteriously replaced by fondue forks.
Clint laughs until he cries.
+++
Telling people stories about what Steve was really like
Barton (good company)
He hesitates. It’s true, Barton is good company, and there’s no reason for his cheeks to feel so hot, but…
He scribbles over that until it’s illegible and replaces it with:
Not being alone all the time
+++
“Animal videos not cuttin’ it tonight?”
Bucky shrugs one-shouldered.
Clint says quietly, “Hey, don’t forget to breathe.”
Right. That.
Clint tilts his head like a curious puppy, waiting.
In. Out.
“Stupid, right?” In. Out. “All that time in a metal tube — now I’ve got a whole goddamn tower to explore, you’d think —”
In. Fuck. Out.
“Wanna go sit up on the roof?”
Bucky is almost embarrassed by the way that makes his heart pound.
“Roof?”
“Fuck yeah, it’s nice. C’mon.”
+++
Coffee
Sunrises
Room to breathe
Soft blankets
People who understand how hard it is to breathe sometimes
+++
“What in the goddamn — Bucky, c’mere.” Steve squints down at the phone screen, taps angrily at it, and shoves it in Bucky’s face. “What the fuck?”
“We the people — Steve, are you texting Tony the Preamble?”
“No. Obviously not, asshole. I was trying to tell him that we’re ordering Chinese if he wants anything, but —”
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh, fuck you. You try, then!”
Bucky types, stops, and smirks. When he tries “we’re” instead of “we,” nothing happens. He has a theory. He finishes the text and hands the phone back just as Clint walks in.
“I think you’re losing it, pal,” Bucky tells Steve innocently.
Clint glances from the phone, to Steve, and then to Bucky, and his face lights up with unholy glee for a split-second before he composes himself.
“Hey,” he says casually. Bucky’s impressed by his poker face.
Steve tap-tap-taps a few more times, then lets out an indignant huff. He’s bright red.
“Now what? Did your big ol’ sausage fingers slip again?” Bucky asks.
“I was just trying to write my name!”
“You don’t have to sign your name at the end of every text. We’ve talked about this.” He grabs the phone out of Steve’s hand and grins when he sees, “From, Star Spangled Man With A Plan.”
Bucky presses send before Steve can wrestle it out of his grasp.
Everybody refuses to help Steve change it, so for a couple days, his texts read like very confusing propaganda; Bucky’s favorite is that “yesterday” becomes “four score and seven years ago.”
+++
Autocorrect
Crab rangoons
He frowns down at the page and chews on his pen for a while before adding one more:
Dimples
+++
Once they team up, they’re unstoppable.
Steve and Tony are bickering happily over their eggs, Natalia is rolling her eyes at them, and Clint is watching coffee drip when Bucky comes into the common area. He goes over to join Clint, leaning against the counter to wait.
“Nothing yet?” he mutters.
Clint shoots him a sideways smile and casually pulls his own phone out of his pocket.
A second later, a long, breathy, high-pitched moan interrupts Steve from the vicinity of his lap.
Everyone turns to him in unison. Clint’s face is the picture of innocent, sleepy bemusement, and Bucky has to look away from it quickly.
Steve fumbles for his phone, but he doesn’t quite manage to silence it before another obscene moan rings out. Tony’s grinning like Christmas came early. Even Natalia smirks.
“What the hell?” Steve stares down at it with a look of utter dismay.
“Wow, Cap, have you been —”
“No!” he says indignantly. “Barton, when did you even do this? Did you break into the apartment when I was showering?”
“Even I can’t pick a biometric lock, Cap."
Bucky makes the mistake of looking at Clint again; he’s smiling like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, and Bucky has to disguise his snort as a cough.
Steve looks from him to Bucky, then down at his screen, and back again, doing what Clint has dubbed his Brow Furrow of Freedom.
“So, that sudden urge to talk about your feelings while I was getting out of the shower…”
“Really didn’t recognize that one as a stall tactic, Cap?” Natalia says wryly.
“Mm, kinda feel like you deserve it, in that case,” Tony agrees.
Steve sighs. “Et tu, Buck?”
Bucky breaks, doubling over and wheezing with laughter.
When he straightens up, he finds Clint studying him, dimples tugging at the curled-up edges of his smile. His eyes are bright over the rim of his cup as he takes a slow sip of coffee.
“What?” Bucky asks, still giggling. “Do I have something on my face?”
Clint shrugs. “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you laugh.” He waits until Bucky turns to fill his own mug before adding, “Looks good on you.”
Bucky’s so startled he almost drops the coffee pot.
+++
Bucky intended to write three things, but there are only two lines left on the page.
He goes back and reads the list from the beginning, and then he writes, in shaky letters:
Friends (even Tony)
Laughing until my stomach hurts
It’s a little hard to breathe, for some reason.
He reads the list again, just to double check, and then he gets up to go find Clint.
+++
They don’t really have to talk about it anymore. Clint just smiles when he sees Bucky and passes him a travel mug of coffee.
Bucky grabs the blanket — the one he thinks of as their blanket — and follows him to the elevator.
They settle in on the roof, looking out at the horizon. They’re both cross-legged, sitting close so they can share the blanket. Bucky’s knee is pressing against Clint’s; he’s acutely aware of that single warm point of contact.
“I ordered five pounds of glitter —”
“I have a list,” Bucky blurts out, cutting him off. “I, um... I have a list. I used to think of it as the ‘reasons not to off myself’ list, because I had to think of reasons, for a while, but that’s not — that’s not really accurate any more. It’s mostly just… things that make me happy. I filled the first page today.” He clears his throat and looks down at his cup, hiding behind the curtain of his hair.
“Fuck, yeah,” Clint says, leaning closer to nudge Bucky gently with his elbow. “That’s great.”
“I was gonna just write your name.” Bucky’s heart is beating too fast. He takes a deep breath and tucks his hair behind his ear, bracing himself. “But I realized you’re already all over that page. Sunrises, and dog videos, and — and I can’t remember the last time I’d actually laughed, until — until you.”
Clint’s eyes are wide and soft. His smile starts slow, but it builds into something dazzling.
Bucky might need a new notebook soon.