#[look he's re-learning how to cuddle cut him some slack okay >w>]

[dramatisperscnae]

[ TUG ]:     sender, sensing the receiver nearby behind them, tugs them by the hand until they’re lying behind them as the big spoon. (Clint & Bucky)

[Things Done While Spooning || accepting]

Bucky never leaves his back exposed. Not if he can help it. Not unless he knows, with 100% certainty, that he is safe and secure. On a good day, that's his apartment. On a bad day…well, let's just say those are the nights he sleeps wedged between his bed and the wall. Tonight? Tonight falls somewhere between the two, considering he's just jolted awake for no reason in particular only to go absolutely still when he registers another presence in the room.

No, not just in the room. In his bed.

Ice slides down his spine, Bucky about three seconds from instinctive violence before reality manages to sink in. That's Clint. That's Clint. Clint stayed over tonight, and given they're long past worrying about modesty at this point - and the fact Clint is too damn tall to fit on Bucky's couch…

For a few moments Bucky just lies there, staring at the wall, letting his heart rate calm down. Then he hesitates. That space between his shoulderblades is twitchy now, as if he can feel a sniper scope focused there. Stupid. There's nothing to worry about, no reason to get jumpy now, Clint is right there, even if he is asleep. Sure, without his aids in Clint could sleep through a damned earthquake, but he's still right there.

Slowly Bucky reaches back, his hand finding Barton's. He doesn't want to actually risk waking the man up, but at the same time a part of him needs this. And there's nothing wrong with it, right? Hell, they've slept together for fuck's sake, this is absolutely tame by comparison. So why, then, is he so damned hesitant? Like he's going to get caught?

For fuck's sake, Barnes, pull yourself together.

Carefully, moving slowly, Bucky tugs the archer closer, settling Clint's arm around his waist and shifting to press his back against Clint's chest. That solves the twitchy chill between his shoulders. Clint's right there, he's not alone, everything's fine. Right? Right.