Smoke drifts, grey and wispy in the chill night air. It ascends higher and higher until it is indistinguishable from the starry sky above.
The wood crackles and pops as it burns. A quiet murmur beneath the chatter of voices, bursts of laughter echoing in the clearing.
The warmth radiating from the fire reaches out to brush against Steve's face. Though his face is warm, Steve shivers as a wind kicks up behind him to ruffle his hair and tug at his scarf. He jumps a little when something heavy settles over his shoulders, warmth following soon after.
Steve turns his head slightly. It's just enough for him to watch as Clint finishes sitting on the log next to him. Clint glances over a few seconds later, the planes of his face painted in the ever-shifting light from the fire. He offers Steve a small, cautious smile, and Steve returns it. He shuffles a little closer on the log and Clint's arm tightens in response. Steve snakes his own arm around the other man's waist.
For a time, they sit quietly, watching the flames dance and jump without speaking. Occasionally, Steve's eyes flit around the bonfire to take in the rest of the crowd. Bucky is to their left, arms waving and eyes bright as he regales two of Clint's friends with a story. Steve's pretty sure it's the one about the time he was attacked by a goose in the third grade – Steve's heard him tell it enough times to recognize the ridiculous flapping he uses to imitate the bird. For all that Bucky can get enthusiastic when he tells about his 'near-death avian experience', Clint's friends don't seem to mind.
Steve recognizes them both: the brunette, Maria, was the one with Clint in the ER when Bucky all but asked Clint out for Steve; the redhead, Natasha, has joined Steve and Clint a few times at the library for quiet study sessions. Both women smile fondly as Bucky reaches the climax of the Goose Story, his own face stretched in a wide grin.
A little closer to the couple, Sam and Thor are bent close over the blonde's phone, a YouTube video playing on the screen. The two are having a quiet, good-natured argument, pointing fingers at the screen and exchanging hushed quips. Both have wicked smiles on their faces.
Steve's eyes drift some more to settle on the largest group directly across the bonfire. It's a boisterous conversation, and Steve's not surprised. From what he's seen of Clint's friend Tony, the man loves having a good time. There are six or seven others sprawled around him, all of them engaged in a loud, energetic discussion about the upcoming finals week. Tony throws back his head with a sharp bark of laughter at something Peggy said and the corner of Steve's mouth twists up in a smile.
Another breeze kicks up, but this time Steve isn't bothered. The heat between his body and Clint's is comfortable and Steve settles against the other man's side a little more fully, resting his head on the blonde's shoulder. He feels the weight of Clint's head come to rest on top of his own.
"I'm glad my friends haven't tried to kill yours yet," Steve says. He feels more than hears the low rumble of Clint's chuckle.
"I'm glad my friends haven't scared yours off," Clint responds.
Steve watches them all a little longer. He can't help being pleased that everyone is getting along. It had been one of the reasons he'd delayed introducing more than one or two of his closer friends for so long, already several weeks into this…thing he has with Clint. He's not sure if they're officially dating, but he hasn't been seeing anyone else for the past few weeks and they've talked about it enough for him to know that Clint hasn't either
Steve shifts a little so he can get a peek at Clint's face out of the corner of his eye. The blonde is smiling, as quietly content as Steve is, and the smaller man's heart skips a beat watching the shadows play across Clint's face.
It takes him a few minutes to notice Steve's attention, but he catches and hold's Steve's gaze once he does. He's not smiling, not exactly, but there's a softness to his features that Steve can recognize as fondness. For a minute, it's like they're the only people there.
Tony shatters the illusion with a well-timed whistle and a shouted "Barton, you're giving me cavities watching you make eyes at your boyfriend!" that starts a bout of friendly teasing from the entire crowd.
Clint waits until everyone has settled down before he makes his retort: "I'll make eyes at my boyfriend as long as I want, Stark." This in itself starts up another round of howling from their friends and Tony smirks, looking pleased with himself.
Steve definitely doesn't blush; his face was already red from the cold.
It's definitely not because Steve is Clint's boyfriend when his friends talk about him. He's mentioned Steve being his boyfriend often enough that his friends refer to him as such without prompting.
Steve catches Clint's eye and laughs as Clint exaggerates the fluttering of his eyelashes and lets out a theatrical sigh. "You're a dork," Steve mutters. But he's grinning wide enough that his cheeks are starting to hurt, and the affection in his tone is unmistakable.
Clint leans in briefly, just enough to peck the tip of Steve's nose. "Yes, but I'm your dork."
Steve can't find any fault with that.
"Yeah," he says. "You are."