Clint loves his coffee, but Bucky really likes tea.
He’s already amassed an impressive collection of tea mugs. They’re just regular mugs, who’s he kidding, but they are under strict no coffee rules. Clint snorts.
More than that, Bucky is really passionate about the things he adds to the tea, most of all the honey. There are jars upon jars, and Clint’s tasted from all of them when he shouldn’t have. He’s pretty sure Bucky’s letting it slide, though.
It’s all nice and dandy with the tea and the way it makes Bucky smile, and the way it relaxes him, and Clint has to wipe a little drool from the corner of his mouth, because relaxed Bucky is so comfortable to talk to, it’s the favorite part of Clint’s day.
Only… Bucky always forgets to stir that honey in. It’s sitting just there at the bottom and Clint has had a tea with a lump of honey at the end once. Not that nice, no. Sweetness like that should be spread out evenly, just like Bucky’s smile keeps all the way to next day when he’s had a nicely stirred tea.
So Clint sneaks up, quietly, oh so very silently, fixes Bucky’s tea. He leaves a kiss on the rim of the mug, just in case.
Maybe tomorrow Clint will scrounge up the nerves to ask him out.
Bucky pours honey in his tea, watches it settle at the bottom. He sits in the armchair by the window, as usual, lets his mug unattended on the table behind him.
Like clockwork, Clint is there exactly twenty eight seconds later, stirs it. He smiles.
Maybe tomorrow he will turn around, say ‘thank you’ and ‘do you wanna go dancing’ and ‘I love talking to you’.