Chapter Text
”Hawkeye, person of interest entering target floor through North terminal. Do you copy? Over.”
Clint’s pulse quickened, if only by a hair. This was his job and security breaches were part of his job, after all, but it had been ages since a POA had made it far enough into the building to reach the target floor before being noticed by security personnel. Kate’s voice was calm in his ear, ringing clear through his custom aid, and a surge of pride shot through his system. She had been his easiest student by far, and he was only half serious when he argued with her stubborn ass for having stolen his moniker for herself when it had come time for her to choose.
”10-4, Hawkeye. Locked and loaded, approaching target from terminal hallway M, sight lock within 15 seconds. Hold visual on screen until told to stand down. Over.” Clint kept his hand at his hip, hand wrapped firmly around the safety mechanism of his pistol holster. Well within his estimated time frame he had eyes on the security target, and sure enough, he could see a figure through the sea-blue glass of the hallways making their way toward the office, heading toward the door, about to make their way through in a matter of seconds. Quickening his pace by a minute amount, Clint rounded the corner, unclasped his weapon and raised it without hesitance.
“Freeze where you stand! Clint Barton, Head of Security. You don’t have clearance to-” Clint’s voice faltered, tapering with slow uncertainty as he spoke. He lowered his gun by a fraction of an inch and squinted, though he knew full well who he was staring at.
Just. Goddammit.
“What in the motherfucking, schnozberry-licking hell, Bucky?!”
Bucky’s eyes were huge and round, even after Clint clumsily snapped his weapon back into place safely at his side. It would have been comical had it not been so fucking awkward.
“You. Here. You’re. This?” Bucky stuttered out, motioning vaguely around the office. Clint swallowed. It made an audible noise.
“Uh, yeah. Surprise?”
When Bucky started laughing, Clint didn’t know whether to join him in relief or take major offense. “What? I don’t know how to read this situation, babe. Throw me a bone, here.”
“You’re head of security for Stark Industries?” Bucky flicked away a tear from the corner of his eye with his prosthetic, wincing as he did so. Clint stepped forward quickly, helping Bucky lower his arm back down to his side. Bucky smiled softly in thanks.
“It would appear so, uh huh.”
“I’m not laughing at you. Just, this whole time I thought you were either a government sniper or, like, a fast food manager and just didn’t want to tell me for some stupid reason that made sense in your adorable brain. Why didn’t you just tell me?” Bucky reached up with his flesh hand to ruffle Clint’s hair before tucking a tuft back behind his ear.
“Tony makes us sign non-disclosures,” Clint mumbled grumpily. “Believe it or not, dude gets more death threats than you’d expect. We’re not supposed to let anyone know.”
Bucky sighed and leaned forward, bumping his forehead into Clint’s. “Ah, well. Can’t blame him, I guess. I suppose I should tell him that he’s got a ridiculously loyal head of security. Been my boyfriend for five months and I’ve been none the wiser. Assholes, the lot of ya. Stevie knows, I expect? Since he basically lives here now that the two of them have finally started bumpin’ uglies?”
Clint barked out a loud bit of laughter and pecked Bucky on the cheek. “Yep. Sorry, you’re the last in the know. I’m gonna go out on a limb...sorry, thoughtless, and guess you’re here to have that looked at, so I’m gonna let you get to it. Also, I’m still on duty so I shouldn’t be, you know, distracted by your beautiful self. And also also, I have to go murder Kate because she made me think that you were someone who needed shooting at, so.”
Bucky grinned. “Better hop to it.”
Clint leaned forward and met Bucky’s lips in a quick kiss. “Love you. See you at home?” He turned and started back down the hall before Bucky responded, but smiled when he heard Bucky respond.
“Sure thing. Love you too, Doll.”
*
Bucky wondered how long he stood in front of Tony’s office door with a look of utter confusion and dumbfoundedness on his face before the glass door swung open, nearly smacking him in the shoulder.
“Hey-oh, Bucky! Long time no see! Sorry to hear that the arm’s on the fritz, Steve says that the elbow joint keeps locking up on ya? Oh, sorry, I saw you out here with loverboy and didn’t want to interrupt, but it seems as though I’ve still somehow managed to interrupt...something.”
Bucky shook his head, looking over to Tony. Hesitating for a moment, he felt his cheeks flush when he finally responded.
“No worries, Stark. I just, ah, realized that Clint might have moved in with me without me noticing? So.”
Tony clapped Bucky on the back, eyebrows raised. “Oh, boy. So you were having a moment.”
Bucky sighed, and surprised himself by not leaning away from the friendly contact.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
*
It was nearly nine o’clock and dark by the time Bucky heard Clint slide his key into the front door deadbolt. His skin crawling with nerves, Bucky stood up from where he had been sitting on the edge of the couch (but only for the last five minutes, because he had spent the previous hour pacing a path into the wood of the living room floor, the hour before that a beaten path into the carpet of the upstairs hallway).
“Hey hot stuff. Do I smell food? And most importantly, did you save me any? Because I’m-”
“Did you move in without me knowing?” Bucky blurted out, interrupting Clint and instantly feeling bad about it. Instead of apologizing Bucky clamped his mouth shut, and Clint visibly winced at the loud clack of Bucky’s jaw.
“Uh,” Clint said, closing the door behind him before toeing off his shoes. He took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack before hanging up his keys, tossing his wallet in the bowl on the stand by the door, and plugging his phone into his charger by the couch. After completing his nightly ritual Clint suddenly stood stock straight and spun around, eyes as wide as saucers, and glared at Bucky as though Bucky had somehow magically spoken the words aloud and made them come true.
“What the fuck.” Clint said, no question in sight. Bucky folded his arms and Clint followed suit.
“You were about to go to the fridge and get a beer, and food, and sit on your side of the couch to eat dinner before doing the dishes,” Bucky accused.
“And then I was going to brush my teeth with my toothbrush, take a shower because I have shampoo here, and get dressed from clothes from my drawer!” Clint said in disbelief.
“And I would have shut the lights off down here, let Lucky out, come to bed and made sure you took your aids out before getting into the left side because that’s my side.”
“And the right side is mine.”
“And you have your own parking spot.”
“And my own keys.”
“We go grocery shopping every Saturday.”
“I feed Lucky every morning.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“I don’t fucking know!”
“Do you still have your place in Bed Stuy?”
“Of course I do! I have some clothes there. I think. And a first aid kit or two? Possibly three. Likely four. I fixed Ms. Jenkin’s hot water heater like three days ago.”
“What do you want to do?”
Clint stopped then, and screwed his face up in the way that always delighted Bucky because Bucky loved to watch the gears turn behind Clint’s gorgeous eyes. He watched the lightbulb go off above Clint’s head.
“We have a lot of space. Can we adopt, like, twenty-seven dogs?”
Bucky felt illuminated.
“That seems like an overabundance of dogs, Clint. What the fuck would we do with twenty-seven of them?” Bucky tried not to smile. He failed. Miserably.
Clint rolled his eyes. “Fine. We can start with one and work our way up to twenty-seven? The pound is open all weekend and I don’t work tomorrow.”
Bucky thought about it, glanced over at where Lucky was laying in his corner, watching their banter with feigned disinterest. Bucky looked back over to where Clint was standing, leaning his hip against the back of the couch, smiling and breathing in and out as though he wasn’t the very center of Bucky’s entire fucking world.
“Sure, sweetheart. We can start with one,” Bucky said, grinning even though it hadn’t been his intention.
Clint smiled, blew Bucky a kiss, and sauntered his way into their kitchen to grab a beer and food from their fridge.