Loving you isn't the right thing to do
How can I ever change things that I feel...


Go Your Own Way

"Why're you still here?" Bucky slurred, head lolling on his pillow as Clint brought in a glass of water.

"'Cause you're drunk, Bucky," he said simply. "Drunk enough for things to go badly if no-one's around to make sure they don't."

"Didn't ask f'r it," Bucky grunted.

"Knew you wouldn't."

"Right. 'Cause you love me." Clint froze, and Bucky waved his hand around above his head. "'S alright, Tasha told me. Or was it Stark?"

It would be Stark - Natasha had sworn to keep that knowledge secret, even if she disapproved. Regaining his composure, Clint cleared his throat, moving to leave Bucky to much-needed sleep. "Water's on the side. I'll be in the living room if you need me."

"You shouldn't, y'know."

Stopping mid-step, he turned back. "Shouldn't what?" Bucky moved his head away, and Clint found himself going to the side of his bed again. "Bucky - I shouldn't what?"

Startlingly clear eyes met his, and Bucky's next words held no trace of slurring in them. "Love me."

Clint couldn't help it - he frowned. Crouching down so that they were eye-level, he softly asked, "Why not?"

"Because," Bucky began, rolling slowly into a seated position on the edge of the mattress, "you've got a normal body, mad bow skills, awesome apartment block, and, and a dog… that likes pizza." He looked up, the corners of his mouth pulled down in sorrow. "Why would you want someone like me to come in and ruin all that?"

As the silence came down thick and heavy between them, Clint played the last sentence back again and read between the lines. Swallowing, he reached out and laid his hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Because someone like you would fit right in to my car-crash of a life," he said, smiling gently. "The real question is, why won't you let me bring you into it?"

Shrugging, Bucky hung his head, attention on his hands, loosely lying in his lap. "Guess I've gotten used to being alone these days," he mumbled.

That wasn't just it, but it was the most that was being admitted to at this moment in time. Moving his hand to the side of Bucky's neck, Clint leant up to kiss him, mildly shocked at how strong the taste of whiskey was on his lips. When they parted, he pressed their foreheads together, and whispered: "You don't have to be anymore."


AN: Prompt: "Winterhawk, Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac"