-- they'll be happy to know that as I saw you go

[yourbestguysgun]

When: Friday 8th of June, evening time.
Rating: PG-13, but he'll probably have a potty mouth, so fair warning.
Characters: Bucky Barnes (yourbestguysgun) and open to anyone who'd be at the Blue Light. Feel free to have been there with him for a long time.
Summary: Somebody's a super friendly drunk given the right opportunity for it.
Log:

The last time Bucky was happy like this, he was surrounded by his team, his friends, leaning against the bartop in uniform and teasing the ever loving hell out of his best friend. He tries not to think about it too often, mostly because it feels a little bit like it's way above his own understanding. He can deal with a lot of things, but dimension hopping is a stretch. Of course he misses it, the Howling Commandos, the camaraderie, the sense of belonging, but the City isn't so bad when it's not jerking his chain, and he likes the people he's gotten to know.

Most of them, anyway.

He's been drinking - quite a bit, actually, - but more as a sign of how good he feels today, laughing at Steve and the rest of his friends, and heckling the band to play something he recognises. It's an easy feeling, and it seeps into his posture, shirt sleeves rolled up, animated as he talks. His beer is clutched in one hand, half-empty as he waves it.

Comments

[bettercallit]

[ Clint enjoys a good drink as much as the next man, and here there is little to stay sober for, no last minute calls to grab his bow and take position. It's actually kind of nice, or at least it was, and then it began to get boring.

A fun night out, however, is exactly what he needs.

He's put away plenty to start feeling the effects, but not enough to be drunk, still as steady on his feet as ever, and despite letting his hair down he doesn't quite let his guard down.

The song finishes, and Clint talks as if he's continuing a conversation from earlier, but the chances are he's just being blunt. ]

So, you're bedding Rogers, how's that working out for you?

[yourbestguysgun]

[ Bucky had been midway through taking a swallow of his beer, so he proceeds to choke on it, a hand coming up to cover his mouth even as he glances over.

He'd forgotten for a moment that Clint had been one of his closest friends during the last curse, he'd forgotten that he'd told him mostly everything in the very way teenage boys might do, confided in him with each secret.

The sinking sense of dread in his stomach is nothing to do with Clint knowing and more to do with the fact that he half feels he's let Steve down by giving it away. ]

Uh, no. I ain't. It was the curse.

[bettercallit]

[ He lifts a hand up to pat him on the back, a lazy action done almost as if he's bored, but it's merely how he rolls with things.

There's a definitely hint of amusement as he sips his beer, takes his time in responding to let Bucky sweat for a minute, and then he places it back down. ]

The curse. Really? Of all the things you could've gone with, you're blaming it on the curse? There's a reason why I'm good at what I do, Barnes, and it's not 'cause I'm blind.

[yourbestguysgun]

We ain't - [ There's no way Bucky can say it like he means it, because he's not homophobic. Sure, he comes from a time when people'd kick your lights out for doing the twist with another guy, but he loves Steve, he's not going to belittle that by making it out that he's sickened by it. ]

Whatever you're thinkin', s'not true.

[bettercallit]

Uh huh. [ He's wearing a cheeky smile, knowing, but he lets him go with whatever story he chooses, because, really, it's none of his business. It's not his fault if he likes to watch people squirm on occasion.

Banging on the bar to get attention. ] Another round here when you're ready. [ Finishing his drink, he looks back to Bucky. ] Speaking of that curse.

[yourbestguysgun]

What about it?

[ Bucky likes Clint, it's kind of obvious in the way he's already allowed him into his social sphere. He enjoyed the curse for the most part, it was friendly and made him feel better about a whole heap of things and he enjoyed it. Clint was part of it, and if he has any reservations about a man from the future who knows his best friend, then he's not saying. ]

[bettercallit]

Should I be expecting more of the same?

[ It's not the question he means to go with, but it's what comes out, because he's not really one to over-think things, not unless it's strategy and tactics, and even then he usually goes with it. But he can't remember a time when he was last as open with anyone the way he was in the curse, uncontrollably so, and didn't have the job to hide behind. Even Natasha and Phil didn't know everything. Well, not first-hand, at least. ]

[yourbestguysgun]

Curses? Yeah.

[ He gives a small smile, a quiet, almost brittle thing. ] Some of them ain't so great, some of them suck to high hell, actually. You don't want to get hit with the bad ones, but there's pretty much no way to stop it.

[bettercallit]

I've already experienced the most horrifying one.

[ Two fresh beers are put down on the bar in front of them, and Clint is quick to snatch his up. ] The day after I got here, I was hugging random strangers.

[yourbestguysgun]

Hey, wait until Christmas. [ With a hint of danger. ] Mistletoe.

[bettercallit]

[ Side-eyeing him. ] Barnes, mistletoe holds the possibility of leading somewhere.

[yourbestguysgun]

It's a terrifying prospect, buddy. Believe me, I lived through it.

[ But he got Steve out of it, so maybe that makes it okay. ]

[bettercallit]

Bad experience?

[yourbestguysgun]

[ Pausing. ] Tony Stark.

[bettercallit]

[ He looks at him blankly and then snorts out a laugh.

And then he sobers, leaning closer. ] Any good?

[yourbestguysgun]

[ Pulling a face. ]

No comment.

[bettercallit]

Your lack of comment is comment enough.

[ Pause. ]

Even with the goatee?

[yourbestguysgun]

Let's not talk about the goatee.

[bettercallit]

[ Keeping a straight face over this is hard, but not impossible. ]

No, I think we should. It's important.

[yourbestguysgun]

[ Laughing. ] Fuck off, Barton.

[bettercallit]

M'starting to get what Rogers sees in you. Such a polite young man.

[ He rolls his eyes, swallows a drink. ]

[yourbestguysgun]

He always knew what I was like and he wanted it anyway.

[bettercallit]

He's happier with you.

[yourbestguysgun]

I don't know about that.

[bettercallit]

[ He smiles to himself, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, because he knows the type. ]

I didn't witness it all first-hand, but the guy's been miserable since he came to us. He only came alive when there was something to take down, which, you know, understandable.