In the movies they're loud. They crash in to every wall as they hastily undress themselves, their eyes half closed but still being able to find the bed

In porn they're erotic, slapping, pinching and grabbing whatever they can. Maybe they'll make a smart remark before saying 'I wanna fuck you' before screwing on every flat surface and non-Latin surface.

Wasn't that what lovers do?

That is not what they did.

The TV is on, some drama. The teenager was pregnant and the son was involved with the mafia. Loud, angry, sad.

Clint's eyes were shut. It felt dirty to watch James do this and willingly cutting off one sense heightened another. It was a rush. Bucky already had him laid on the couch beneath him, what was he to do next? Bite down on his neck like a sadistic little fuck? Trail feathery light kisses down his bruised body and suck him off?

He felt breath on his lips. So it was like that, huh? They kissed, it was brief and light.

Clint opened his eyes.

"what the hell dude! If you're gonna do me then do me!"

Clint knew the drill. On the lips, slow and sensual. On the neck, rough and fast. Blow job, must be his birthday or Christmas.

None of the drills included this.

Above him, with Clint's legs spread either side of him, was James Buchanan Barnes with his cheek facing Clint and having a staring contest with Clint's dog, Lucky.

"I thought you put her out" Bucky didn't break eye contact with Lucky, who was more then happy to see Bucky. Her heavy tail was hitting off the coffee table as it wagged, making a heavy banging sound that was heard clearly over the TV.

"She's a smart dog," he pushed himself onto his elbows, triggering a happy bark from Lucky.

"Put her out" Bucky ordered, sitting back on his heels and crossing his arms.

"Why? She'll just get back in. C'mon Buck," Clint sat up, wrapping his arms around Bucky's shoulders and kissing him, which looked rather stupid since Bucky would not kiss back. He instead choose to stare at him like a statue, relentless and stubborn.

"You know why" Bucky replied with his ever present frown, glaring at Clint. "Dog. Out. Now."

Clint gave up, detaching himself from Bucky and getting off the couch. "Fine. Ya want Pizza?"

"What?"

"Not you mister 'I can't fuck in front of a dog'" Clint was pulling his cloths back on. "Lucky, ya want Pizza?"

Lucky gave a joyous bark, jumping along after her master, soon followed by the shutting and locking of the front door.

"Seriously?" Bucky yelled after him, having only the crickets to reply.