Work Text:
Clint has a shadow. A pretty one, with a dope metal arm and a threatening stare that makes Clint shiver in the best way possible, but a shadow nonetheless.
Bucky Barnes has been living at the tower for a couple of months now, and he's been adjusting just fine. At least that's what it looks like to Clint; he hasn't had many chances to get to know the guy yet. Barnes keeps mostly to himself, Steve, Natasha, and, from time to time, Bruce.
Maybe that's why Steve had been so insistent on bringing the team (yes, the entire team, Tony) closer together over Christmas time. Maybe that's why Clint is on his way into town three days before Christmas Eve to try and find an appropriate gift for Captain America because he pulled Steve's name at secret Santa (he had two weeks to find and order something, but pushed it aside far too many times. What's one supposed to gift Captain America, after all?)
And maybe that's why Clint has had a shadow for the past fourteen days.
Wherever he goes, Barnes seems to be there as well. On the range, in the kitchen, in the living room, in the endless hallways on the endless floors of the tower, or, like now, following him through the streets of New York. Always lurking, never engaging, like Clint is a target he's keeping an eye on. Clint isn't sure if he's being a bad spy on purpose or if he underestimates Clint so much that he truly believes he isn't being noticed.
He isn't sure why he chooses now to do something about it. Maybe it's the fact that it's almost Christmas and he smells the opportunity to get help on the Gift For Steve front, maybe it's because he's finally snapped. Maybe it's just because he feels for Barnes and wants to put him out of his misery.
So he takes a couple of detours he wasn't planning on taking, heads into one of his favorite coffee shops, buys two coffees because he's nice like that, charms the barista into letting him exit through the back, climbs a couple of fences and brick walls, almost falls into a dumpster but doesn't, and eventually drops down in a narrow alleyway, right behind Barnes' back, exactly where Clint expected him to be.
"Boo," he says with a grin. Unnecessarily, because Barnes is already turned around at the—admittedly noisy—sound of Clint's shoes hitting the concrete.
He slow-blinks at Clint, kind of like a cat, if cats would slow-blink due to confusion and not affection.
"What the fuck is this?" Barnes asks, brow furrowed, staring.
"Coffee." Clint holds both cups out to him. "I didn't know how you like yours, so this one has milk, and this one doesn't, pick your poison."
Barnes reaches for the one with milk, forehead still wrinkled, eyes still digging into Clint's soul. "Thank you?"
Clint flashes him a smile and gestures Barnes to follow him out of the alleyway and back into the mildly busy street. "You're very welcome."
He half expects Barnes to make a run for it, but he just falls into a comfortable step beside Clint, clearly accepting his defeat.
"Now, are you going to tell me why you've been following me around for the past weeks, or are we just gonna ignore the raccoon in the room?" he asks after taking a huge sip of coffee that only slightly burns his tongue. "Raccoon, get it? Because you look like…" Clint gestures at Barnes's everything, but gets shut up with a single glare. "Never mind."
Barnes hesitates for a moment, then his shoulders sag, just the littlest bit, and he says, "Pulled your name out of that stupid hat at secret Santa."
"Thought so," Clint comments, nodding into his coffee.
"And I don't know shit about you, so I thought I'd try and find out about… shit," Barnes continues. "Enough to get you something you'd like."
"Charming. I'm pretty sure the whole point of this was to force you to get to know people, and people to get to know you. Stalking me kind of defeats that point, doesn't it?"
"Oh, it's taught me plenty about you." Barnes' face does something funny at that. Half smirk, half frown, a whole lot of implication. Clint chooses not to investigate further.
Clearing his throat, he asks, "Enough to buy me a gift yet?"
Barnes nods. "Oh yeah, I got one last week."
"Then why are you still…"
He takes a sip of his coffee, shrugging. "Force of habit? Boredom? Me being annoyed by Steve and very grateful for the distraction?"
"And you never thought about, I don't know, talking to me? I don't bite, I promise."
Barnes throws him a pointed glance. "I have mental evidence that suggests otherwise."
And okay, there might have been a moment in the lab with Tony last week. Clint doesn't even begin to question where Barnes had been hiding during that.
Barnes sighs and continues. "But as you might have noticed, I'm a little rusty on the whole making friends thing."
"I think you're doing just fine." Clint tries his best to make his next smile as bright and honest as possible.
It seems to work because Barnes huffs a laugh and drinks his coffee and then proceeds to flash Clint a smile of his own, small and private, but there, and it does a very funny thing to Clint's stomach. "Thank you," He says. "And thanks for the coffee. And… sorry for stalking you."
"Oh, it's fine, I've had much uglier stalkers," Clint says and promptly wants to punch himself in the face.
But Barnes just keeps looking at him, smile growing just the littlest bit wider. "I've had uglier targets."
There are a lot of funny things happening today.
Clint shakes his head roughly to recover and asks, "Wanna make it up to me by helping me out with my secret Santa gift?"
"Is it Steve?"
"'course it is," Clint sighs.
Barnes snorts. "I gotcha. This way." He's quiet for a moment, then he says, "I like my coffee black, by the way. Just… for next times."
Next times.
"Why'd you take the other one then?" Clint asks with a frown.
"Because the very first thing I learned about you, two seconds into the whole stalking thing, was how you take your goddamn coffee, idiot."