Not Even Keeping Score Anymore

Everything between Clint and Bucky is a competition. Whether they're down at the range or just chilling out on the roof, the two snipers can't go five minutes without the words "I bet you can't" passing their lips. Sometimes the bets are harmless, such as hitting ridiculously placed targets with their least favourite weapon or counting the number of times they can make Steve look awkward; other times, they get slightly out of hand. Neither of them are going to attempt to booby trap Coulson's office again anytime soon, even if the innocent S.H.I.E.L.D agent who walked into them the last time is laughing about it when they apologise, despite the broken collarbone and cracked ribs – cleaning the air vents with toothbrushes is just not worth it.

It's not that Clint and Bucky hate each other: they just think everyone else needs to (but won't) lighten up. Well, most people do anyway, but not even they're ready to join in with Tony's idea of pranking. Because they're so evenly matched, one-upping the other became something of a big deal, and yet because Clint is Clint and Bucky is (sort of) Bucky malice has never entered the equation.

But one day, they run out of competitions. They've returned from a mission to find the Avengers Tower empty, and a hastily scribbled note (from Steve, who else?) explaining where they were, when they'd be back, that there was food in the fridge, and under no circumstances were they to try and tamper with Jarvis. So after pen spinning, pillow stacking, book juggling, upside-down drawing and alphabetical re-organising of the cupboards in the quickest time, Bucky and Clint officially run out of things to do and head up to the roof with a beer each. With the aid of alcohol, however, they end up comparing life experiences.

"So I win hardest shot made." Clint takes a victory swig before frowning at the night-time cityscape in front of them. "How about… longest time spent waiting to make the shot?"

Bucky snorts. "Five hours."

"Damn, seriously?"

He nods. "Siberia. Fucking freezing. Ended up covered in snow."

"And I thought two and a half in Afghanistan was bad… Worst weather on an op?"

"Ice blizzard in Connecticut, winter of eighty… something."

"Is that worse than a hurricane in Oklahoma?"

"More painful." Clint acknowledges that, and Bucky grins. "Hey, how about this one: longest time spent as Natasha's plaything?"

The archer mulls it over. "I'd say… a couple of years. You?"

There's a pause as Bucky tries to work it out. Ten seconds pass before he scoffs. "I ain't got a fucking clue, but it wasn't that long," he admits, and takes a long drink as Clint laughs.

"Okay, okay – worst brainwashing experience?"

As soon as he says it, both men falter. On the one hand, Bucky's went on for years, with the bastards twisting him into a completely new person and effectively setting him up as a serial killer. Clint's may have only been for a few hours, but he gave away valuable, personal information about his friends and colleagues before later trying to kill them. When the silence suggests they're both getting too entwined in their respective ordeals, Bucky nudges Clint in the side and raises his bottle. "Call it even?" With a shrug, Clint knocks his beer against his friend's, and the tally is put to rest (unlike the now joint-pranks, which become twice as bad as their individual efforts. Coulson soon runs out of toothbrushes).

AN: So I think there needs to be more Bucky & Clint fics out there, whether as bromance/romance, I really don't care - they're just so cool! Of course, this has only recently been decided in my head cuz I'm getting more and more excited about The Winter Soldier, even though it's still at least eight months away (probably more for the UK)! :-( This was also just a way to kick-start some more work on 'When Winter Strikes', so if you're following that (and it's still not finished) then fear not - progress has just slowed, not halted ;-)

SniperBros ftw!