49 taserhawkshock? Please?
EDIT: This was meant to me a winterhawkshock prompt ^.^
49. I want to rob lumber mills and hospitals with you and just bewilder the hell out of people the way love should. (We will make everything wrong in the right way.)
“Darcy, let me in, please!”
She takes a step back from the door, confused. “Buck, did Clint tell you he was coming over?”
“What?” Bucky calls from the kitchen. Darcy huffs.
“Clint’s here! Did you know?”
“No?” Bucky says, sounding as puzzled as Darcy feels. He rounds the corner and Darcy can’t help but smile at the frilled purple apron he’s tied over his clothes. It had been a gag gift from Clint, but like many things, Bucky manages to wear it without a hint of irony. She motions to his cheek.
“You’ve got a bit of flour there.”
Bucky grimaces and wipes at his face with the back of his arm. “Thanks.”
“Darcy? Bucky?” Clint calls out, still locked out of their home. “I know you’re in there! I can hear you talking! Please let me in?”
Darcy shakes her head in exasperation and Bucky disappears back into the kitchen. He rarely likes being interrupted when in the middle of making dinner. She opens the door and Clint all but falls inside. “Hey,” she says as he stumbles through. She locks the door behind him. “Are you drunk?”
“A little. Nat brought out the vodka,” he slurs, and he toes off his shoes and wanders into the living area. Darcy huffs and straightens his shoes with her foot before following him though. “Do I smell baking bread?”
“Biscuits,” Bucky corrects him. He rolls the extra dough between his hands with a practiced motion, and it sticks only a little to the latex glove over his metal hand. Clint makes an obscene sound, and Darcy shares a look with her boyfriend. He smiles.
“We weren’t expecting you over,” he says softly, focus returning to the biscuit. “But you’re welcome to stay for tea.”
“Thanks,” Clint says. Darcy frowns- is it just her or does his voice sound a little strained.
“Are you okay?” she asks in concern. Clint stares at her with wide, uncertain eyes.
“I love you,” he suddenly blurts out.
A spoon clatters onto the counter and Darcy sucks in a sharp breath. “What?”
The uncertainly on his face clears and he swallows audibly, standing up straighter as he glances between Darcy and Bucky. “I love you,” he says again. “Both of you. Nat says I’m being dumb and maybe I am, but I can’t- I can’t do this anymore! I can’t pretend to be friends with you- with either of you- when I just want to kiss you.”
“Clint,” Darcy says softly, but the man just shakes his head.
“No- I need to- need to say this. I want to set the world on fire for you. I want to rob a hospital for you. I don’t know if you understand the lengths I would go to, to keep to both of you safe. I fucking love you, okay? But this is- it’s killing me-”
“Clint!” Bucky growls. He’s stripped off the glove on his metal hand, and Darcy bites back a smile as he strides around the island counter to grab Clint by the fabric of his shirt. “Would you shut up!” he snaps, and then he’s pulling a startled Clint forwards into a bruising kiss. A thrill of arousal shoots through Darcy at the sight and she grins, even as the kiss grows deeper, Clint clutching a Bucky like a lifeline, uncaring that his dough-sticky hand is making a mess of his shirt.
They break apart, and Clint stares up at Bucky like he’s seen the face of God. It’s a feeling Darcy is intimately familiar with.
“We love you too, you daft idiot,” Darcy tells him, and Clint swallows like he’s about to cry. “Now come here so I can kiss you too.”