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When Dick and Jason invited him and Clint over for dinner, Bucky expected it to be an awkwardness clusterfuck of gigantic proportions, but it’s… not. He might actually be having fun.
The food was good, and their house is cozy and clean. They eat around a round table between the kitchen and the living room, and it’s the sort of homey, informal-but-nice gathering space that Bucky would love to have if he and Clint didn’t live in an apartment the size of a shoebox.
Dick is everything Clint’s said about him, really, witty and curious, but he’s also got a poised, charming ease when it comes to keeping the conversation flowing. Jason is wickedly smart and well-read, but he’s also blunt and sarcastic in a way that keeps catching both Bucky and Clint off-guard. And the two of them just work together, playing off each other, with a familiar rhythm to their jokes and their banter like… well, like Bucky and Clint, really. Complementary, albeit in different ways.
Mostly though he’s enjoying watching Clint and Dick together. They’ve been telling all sorts of circus stories, going back and forth, voices tumbling over each other’s like excited puppies.
There’s a spark in the air, whenever they look at each other. Nobody mentions it, but it’s pretty fucking obvious. Bucky is almost surprised by how little it bothers him — but the truth is, he likes anybody who looks at Clint the way Dick does: like he hung the fucking moon. Like he’s perfect.
Then he and Jason go out for a cigarette after dessert, and Jason says, “So.”
Bucky lets out a huff of air that’s not quite a laugh. He pulls out his Zippo and lights Jason’s cigarette, then his own. “So?”
“Seems like your fiance’s been in love with my husband for as long as my husband’s been in love with your fiance.”
Bucky blows out a thin stream of smoke and nods. “Seems like.”
Jason is watching the living room window. Dick is partly visible from this angle, over the back of the chair. Bucky can’t see Clint, but he can see the way Dick is looking at Clint.
There aren’t enough people in the world who look at Clint that way, and in Bucky’s mind, that’s a crying shame.
He tilts his head, watching Jason thoughtfully. “You’re not jealous.”
Jason shrugs. “I was always jealous.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dick was it for me. From the moment I fuckin’ saw him, you know? He was everything I’d ever wanted. First love, first… everything. Not just first. Only.”
“Oh.”
“For him, all those firsts — they were all Clint. All those pieces of him I couldn’t have, they always belonged to Clint.” He frowns thoughtfully out at the dark yard. “The fact that Clint’s here, now — that they can be in the same place again? That doesn’t actually change anything. We always shared him a little bit. And now…” He shrugs.
“You mean —”
Jason gives him a wry, knowing look. “You were thinking it too.” Bucky can’t help but smile. Jason shifts his weight nervously and says, “Have you, uh. Talked to him about that?”
“Not exactly. I tried, but…”
“But?”
But Clint fucking bolted, the way he does sometimes, because Bucky didn't really do it right; sometimes talking to Clint about feelings is like trying to catch a bird that's gotten caught inside. If Bucky's not sneaky about it, he'll throw himself at the windows until he accidentally hurts himself.
Bucky chooses his words carefully. “He’s not used to getting what he wants. Y’know?”
“Yeah,” Jason says, very quietly. “Yeah, I know a thing or two about that.”
“Did you? Talk about it, I mean.”
Jason flushes. “Well. Yeah.”
Bucky raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Judging by the look on your face it was a good… conversation.”
“You could say that,” Jason says, unable to hide his grin, or the way his eyes go a little distant. Then he blinks, comes back to reality, and says, “So I guess Clint is the big question mark.”
“Guess so,” Bucky says.
When they go back inside, Dick and Clint are sitting on the couch, angled toward each other, leaning in close.
Dick’s holding up his hands in a protest. “Now, hold on, I don’t remember —”
“It was you!” Clint exclaims, pink cheeked and laughing. “That time was absolutely not my fault.”
“Maybe. The one with the rubber snake, though —”
“Yeah, okay, but in my defense that was hilarious,” Clint says, smirking.
“Hey, Dick?” Bucky says, leaning against the kitchen counter, and Dick starts. They both settle back in their seats, clearing their throats almost in unison. Bucky gives Dick what he hopes is a reassuring smile and says, “You should kiss him.”
“Wait, what?” Clint says weakly.
Dick’s eyes are huge and hopeful. He looks from Bucky to Jason, and the two of them exchange some sort of wordless communication. Jason nods.
He’s so careful about it, so sweet, like he’s trying to memorize the moment; he turns to face Clint, shifting into his space slowly, cupping his jaw with both hands and stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. He pauses with an inch of space between their mouths, foreheads and noses brushing, and breathes, and then when he does kiss Clint it’s an innocent, chaste, tender kiss like they’re kids all over again. Clint’s hands hover for a moment, fluttering in midair like he’s not sure what to do with them, before they rest carefully on Dick’s waist; they’re so big that they seem to dwarf it.
They pull apart. Clint inhales shakily, a big dreamy smile slowly tugging at his lips, and he glances at Bucky again — like he needs confirmation that he’s not just imagining this, maybe, and Bucky nods encouragingly. He thought it’d be harder, seeing Clint kiss someone else, but god, he can’t even find a little bit of jealousy when he sees that smile.
The second kiss is nowhere near as innocent. Clint deepens it, holding Dick by the hair to angle him just right, and Dick opens for him, lets Clint lick into his mouth. Bucky can see Clint’s tongue, the slick pink slide of it between Dick’s lips, and he can see the way Dick shivers, melting a little bit under his hands.
“Wait,” Clint says, breaking the kiss abruptly. He jumps to his feet, hauling in a deep breath and raking his hands through his hair. “What is this?” he blurts out, looking at the floor instead of any of them. “What —”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Bucky says softly.
“The fuck,” Clint says, arms wrapped around himself like he’s physically trying to hold himself together. “Why would you just do that?”
“Because it’s pretty fucking obvious that you wanted to kiss him,” Bucky replies calmly. He closes the distance between them, resting his hands on Clint’s upper arms. “But if I’d asked you whether you wanted to, you would’ve said no and tried to brush it off.”
“It’s not like –” His cheeks are red, chest rising and falling with shallow, panicky breaths.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Dick says hastily, still smiling, although it’s a little too bright now, almost brittle.
“It’s not that he doesn’t want to,” Bucky tells him. “He really fucking does. Maybe too much.” Clint makes a strangled sound, knuckling at his eyes, and Bucky prompts, “What? Am I wrong?”
“No! But I would never —”
“I know you wouldn’t cheat,” Bucky says. “It’s not like that. And I’m not jealous. I thought I might be, but I’m not.”
“You’re really okay with this?” Clint asks, turning to Jason, incredulous.
Jason walks hesitantly closer, sitting down in the armchair that’s next to the couch. “More than okay. We, uh. Already talked about this, and I’m good with it.” He and Dick exchange a glance before Jason says, all gravelly and heated, “As long as I get to watch.”
“Clint,” Bucky says, warm and fond. “Sit down. Take a breath.” He steers Clint gently back to the couch, and Clint sits down heavily. Bucky settles next to him, and Dick lets out a nervous laugh. He’s flushed, clearly anxious, eyes darting from Clint to Bucky and back again.
“We good?” Jason asks.
Bucky meets Dick’s gaze and asks, “You wanna try that again? Like you mean it this time?”
“You mean—”
Bucky gives him a reassuring smile. “Really? You gonna make me spell it out for you?”
Dick glances back at Clint, reads the naked hope on his face, and straddles him without any further prompting.
This time, the kiss is filthy from the get-go, all teeth and tongues, without a shred of hesitation. Bucky angles himself to watch, leaning against the back of the couch, and enjoys the hell out of the view.
Clint’s big hands fly up to hook over Dick’s shoulders and pull him down, grinding him into Clint’s lap, and Dick rolls his hips in a way that makes Clint’s knuckles visibly tighten, his fingers digging into the fabric of Dick’s button-down.
They look fucking obscene together, and they’re not even doing anything that scandalous yet; maybe it’s the position, the pronounced arch of Dick’s back and the curve of his ass, or maybe it’s the way they surge together and move, bodies rocking and straining and tugging at each other like they’re trying to find a way inside each other already.
“Fuck,” Jason breathes, chest heaving, and Bucky lets out a shaky laugh.
Jason’s noticeably hard in his jeans, and his mouth is slack, eyes wide with something like wonder. He’s also rosy-cheeked, blushing all the way down to the hollow of his throat, visible above the collar of his black v-neck; he flushes easy, and Bucky has a sudden urge to see how far down it goes.
“Clint,” Bucky says. “What do you want?”
They pull apart with a wet, lewd sound. Clint looks wrecked already, dazed and dreamy the way he does when he’s starting to slip under. Bucky can’t help but smile and lean in to kiss him, and he’s acutely aware of how close Dick is as he watches — it sounds like Dick’s holding his breath, until Bucky sets his teeth in Clint’s lower lip and tugs, and then Dick lets out his exhale all at once.
Bucky repeats, “What do you want? Do you want Dick to fuck you?”
“Me?” Clint says desperately. “I don’t — we —”
“Dick wants you to fuck him,” Jason interrupts, husky and hoarse.
Clint makes a strained little noise like he can’t get enough air in his lungs. “Wait, how do you —”
“Like he said, we talked about it,” Dick says. He’s still in Clint’s lap, heavy-lidded and smoldering. “Never really did that, did we?”
“Oh yeah?” Bucky asks.
“He was… intimidating when we were younger,” Dick says slyly. He shoots Jason a wicked little smirk. “Got some practice now.”
“Dick likes to put on a show,” Jason says to Bucky, raising an eyebrow like a challenge. “He likes to show off. Likes being watched.”
Dick shrugs unrepentantly.
“And what about you?” Bucky asks. “You just gonna watch?”
“Um.” Jason suddenly looks… well, he looks like he’s in over his head, and Bucky remembers their conversation outside, the admission that Jason’s never done this with anybody other than Dick. "I'm not actually sure. Is that okay?"
“We can play it by ear, okay?” Bucky tells him. “Just talk to me.”
“Okay,” Jason says quietly.
“You wanna move this to a bed?”
“Yes, please,” Dick says, with a breathless laugh, and he slithers off Clint’s lap. He goes over to the armchair first, tugging Jason to his feet and into a kiss, and Jason gives him a look that’s fierce and raw and hungry.
Clint gets to his feet and follows them up the stairs, but he only makes it to the landing before he stops short.
“Give us a second,” Bucky tells Jason — Dick’s already through the bedroom door — and he nods.
“Are you sure —” Clint starts. He breaks off, mouth working silently, wild-eyed with panic again. “I don’t think you’ve thought this through. What if it fucks something up?”
“Then we’ll fix it.” Bucky grabs both his hands.
“Or we could just not take the risk!” Clint says, with a slightly hysterical edge to his voice.
On one hand, this is moving quickly; on the other hand, Bucky knows Clint, and he knows that giving Clint time to think will only send him spiraling. Sometimes Clint just needs a little push, when it comes to the things he wants.
“Look, do you want to have sex with him?” Bucky asks.
Clint hesitates.
“Clint,” Bucky says quietly, sidling into his space and walking Clint backwards until his back hits the wall. “Getting engaged doesn’t mean I expect you to never ever be attracted to another person again. It’s okay to admit that. This isn’t some sort of fucked-up test.”
“But… this isn’t — he’s not just some person on the street, y’know? Where, like, I check them out and then we continue on our way. Dick is — what if hooking up —”
“What if you realize you have feelings for him?” Bucky asks incredulously. Clint nods. “Sweetheart. It is way too late for that, don’t you think?” He half laughs, but stops himself when he sees the look on Clint’s face.
Clint shakes his head and says, “It doesn’t mean — I’m in love with you.”
“I know that, darlin,’” Bucky tells him. “And I love you too. But I also know that love isn’t like a fuckin’ pizza.” At Clint’s puzzled look, he adds, “It’s not like if you share with an extra person or two then there won't be enough for me to get my fill. And if anybody had enough love to go around to more than one person at a time, it’d be you.”
Clint’s eyes go soft and shocked in the way that they do sometimes when Bucky points out how wonderful he is. “You really mean that?”
“Yeah, baby, I really do,” Bucky says patiently.
“Hey, Clint?” Dick says from the doorway. He leans against it, hands in his pockets, giving Clint one of those adoring looks again. “You good? Because if you need some time, we can just… I didn’t mean to jump into anything. This is a lot, I know it is, but — we can wait.”
Jason isn’t visible in the frame of the half-closed door, but his voice is clearly audible when he grumbles: “You guys have only been waiting to find each other again for half a fuckin’ lifetime.”
Clint’s laugh is soft and punched-out. “He’s not wrong,” he says, chewing on his lip, and after a long pause, he admits, “I just don’t wanna fuck this up.”
Dick tilts his head, pensive. “It’s sorta like the trapeze, remember?”
“What do you mean?”
“At a certain point you just gotta… take the leap.”
Clint stares at Dick for a second, and something in his expression melts, leaving nothing but vulnerability in his eyes.
Bucky sighs. “And if you fall, I’ll catch you.”
Dick blinks at him. “You’ll be waiting?” he asks, smiling slowly. “Time after time?”
Jason calls, “Clint, I will literally pay you to take him off my hands.”
“Yeah, wow, you guys fuckin’ deserve each other,” Bucky huffs. “Foursome canceled.”
Clint starts to laugh just as a balled-up sock hits Dick on the side of the head. Bucky rolls his eyes and gives Clint a gentle shove in the right direction.