Winterhawk Writing

Uhh 30?

Clint always thought, on some deep (fucked up) level, that he was probably gonna end up dead in a ditch before ever even seeing the light of 25. Maybe it was his terrifying childhood from which he could pull out three distinctive times his father almost killed him. Maybe it was his run with the circus that he definitely had five or more near death experiences. Maybe it was his own fucking brother shooting him in both shoulders with his own goddamn bow before leaving him to either die at the crime scene or be imprisoned for the rest of his life. Maybe it was because of Coulson and his shitty job offer with SHIELD that lead to another... well, Clint lost count of all the times he should've died while working under SHIELD.
He never thought he'd achieve the level of domesticity he had with Bucky. He never thought he'd wake up with Bucky's head pillowed on his chest. He never thought that he'd take such great care to slip out from beneath him just to go make breakfast before 10am. Hell, even 1pm. He loved Bucky enough to make him his favorite of black coffee and a ham and cheese omelette and then go and wake him up with gentle kisses.
"Happy Birthday," he grinned into the corner of Bucky's mouth.
"Ughhh," Bucky puckered his lips for a kiss, Clint was happy to oblige. "How old am I?"
"103, handsome," Clint brushed a few pieces of hair from his face. "Now sit up, I made you breakfast."
Bucky 'awwed' quietly and did as Clint asked, accepting the food with a wide grin and soft thank you. Clint sat next to him with his own cup of coffee, having filled up on an abhorrent amount of shredded cheese while he cooked, and talked about what plans he had to renovate the farm house.
When Bucky finished he set his dishes to the side and leaned forward to press his lips onto a small star shaped scar on Clint's shoulder blade. "Thank you so much, best birthday breakfast ever."
"Really?" Clint grinned proudly. "Well, hope it's good enough to make up for the fact I didn't plan anything else."
"Absolutely," Bucky presses his cheeked against Clint's freckled shoulder and started up at him. "Love you."
Clint's heart clenched in his chest, and it was times like this he was so glad he didn't end up in a muddy fucking ditch. "Love you too."

My uni is cancelled for the rest of the semester and all my classes are moved online so I will be having more time to write. Stupid covid-19 :(