i’ll believe in anything (give me your eyes, I need sunshine)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary:

Hear me out: Heated Rivalry, except Bucky Barnes is Scott Hunter and Clint Barton is Kip Grady.

Notes:

The Heated Rivalry brainrot has infected me and my WinterHawk fics #SorryNotSorry. This fic fills my I1: Love Bites and I3: Sexting squares for the WinterHawk Bingo.

Thanks as always to tinysugacube (who is also currently suffering the HR brainrot) for her grammatical prowess, as well as to Marvin for his official seal of approval.

You’ve Got This

“Who are you sexting?”

“What?” Clint flushed and hastily shoved his phone into his pocket, refusing to meet Natasha’s eyes as she slid back into the booth. “I’m not sexting anyone. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right…” She crossed her arms, unimpressed.

“I’m not even seeing anyone right now,” he insisted, still refusing to make eye contact. 

“Oh, so those love bites on your neck just came out of nowhere?” she asked, raising her eyebrow. “And your dad thinks you’re staying with me for the past few months despite the fact that this is the first time I’ve seen you in two weeks because…?”

“You talked to my dad?” Clint’s face went pale. “Why? What did you tell him?”

“Don’t worry, I covered for you. But I need answers if I’m going to keep doing that. What’s the plan here?”

“Plan?”

“Cut the shit, Clint. I know there’s something going on with you and that hockey player.”

“There’s nothing going on! He’s just a customer who buys smoothies from me sometimes.”

“It’s more than that. You know it, I know it. So why are you hiding it?”

“It’s…complicated. He can’t come out right now—he needs time.”

Natasha pursed her lips. “You deserve better than this. I’m going to talk to him at the party.”

“Nat—”

“There is literally nothing you can do to stop me.”

Clint put his head in his hands. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you deserve more than this.”

“I’m an adult, Nat. I can take care of myself.”

“I know.” Natasha reached across the table and squeezed Clint’s hand. “But you deserve to be taken care of too.”

—

If he was being honest with himself, Clint always knew that the honeymoon period wasn’t going to last. As much as he loved Bucky, their relationship would never work if it remained in the shadows. So even though it was hard, he broke it off. They stayed friendly and still texted occasionally; but Clint was busy with grad school, Bucky was busy with hockey, and their lives remained relatively separate no matter how much they wanted to be together.

There were slip-ups of course. Every now and then, they would fall back into bed together; and they texted—and sexted—on more than one occasion. But they didn’t live together, didn’t say I love you, no matter how much they both still felt it.

—

“Will you come to my game tonight?” Bucky asked hesitantly as he pulled out his wallet, not meeting Clint’s eyes.

“I—” Clint wasn’t sure how he wanted to answer that question. It felt heavy, like there was something more to it beyond their complicated and shared history.

“Please?” Bucky finally looked up, and there was an intensity in his gaze that took Clint’s breath away. “It’s the final match, my chance to win the cup, and I want you there.”

“Of course.” Clint scratched the back of his head, looking away and breaking that intense eye contact.

“Great.” Bucky smiled, and Clint’s breath caught. He would never tire of that smile.

—

“These really are great seats, even if we only got them because of your whole situationship,” Natasha sniffed.

“Nat, behave.” Clint shook his head. “And don’t call it that.”

“Fine, fine. I’m just saying, it’s been three years.”

“We aren’t…it’s complicated, but it’s not a big deal. We’re just friends. We don’t even see each other that much anymore.”

“Right…”

“Let’s just enjoy the game. Don’t make me regret bringing you.”

Clint had never cared about hockey before meeting Bucky, and the truth was he still didn’t care very much—even if he refused to admit it to Natasha, he knew his enjoyment of the game had a lot more to do with who was playing than the game itself. Still, the energy in the crowd was electric, and he stood and cheered when Bucky’s team won; and he felt a swell of pride when he saw Bucky with the cup. The pride, however, turned to confusion when Bucky gave the cup to another player and skated to the edge of the rink near where Bucky and Nat were sat, making direct eye contact and gesturing as though he wanted Clint to join him on the ice.

“I—what?” Clint furrowed his brow, confused as Bucky kept waving at Clint. He could not hear him over the din of the crowd, but he read “Yes, you, Clint!” on Bucky’s lips; and so he made his way through the thick of the crowd and down to the rink, hopping over the divider and taking Bucky’s hand before Bucky skated them closer to the center of the ice.

The skates made Bucky taller than Clint, which was unusual. But what was more unusual was that they had never stood like this before, in public and in plain view.

“Bucky…” Clint’s eyes were wide as he met Bucky’s. “What—you don’t have to do this.”

“Except I do.” Bucky smiled down at him, cupping Clint’s face before drawing him into a kiss.

The crowd faded away as they embraced, and it was all Clint could have ever wanted and more.

I said nobody knows you
And nobody gives a damn either way
About your blood, your bones
Your voice, and your ghost
Because nobody knows you
And nobody gives a damn either way
You know that I’ll believe in anything
And you’ll believe in anything
Because nobody knows you
And nobody gives a damn either way