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Clint is not entirely sure how to feel when his boyfriend turns into a wolf while they're spooning. On the one hand, it might have been polite for Bucky to let him know about the werewolf thing ahead of time. But on the other hand, they're already in bed, and it turns out there's not that much difference between crashing in a cuddle-pile of two dudes and a dog and crashing in a cuddle-pile of two dogs and a dude. Either way, Clint is a happy camper.
In the morning, Bucky makes them both coffee and says, "Thanks for letting me stay. It's been a long time since I spent the night with anyone. I didn't cause you any trouble, did I?" He looks nervous, like he thinks he might have mauled Clint in his sleep or something.
"Aw, dude," says Clint. His first gulp of hot coffee feels like it's pooling in his chest with his melted heart. "No, of course not. You and Lucky are a world-class snuggling team, I slept great. Come back anytime."
Bucky's eyes glimmer a little. "Anytime? You mean that?"
"Any fuckin' time," Clint says, and leans over to kiss him.
*
There's probably some kind of pattern to the shifts, something to do with the phases of the moon or whatever, but Clint doesn't bother figuring it out. He sort of likes not knowing what to expect, honestly. Sometimes he gets an armful of scorching-hot manflesh, sometimes he gets a bonus snoozy pup. There's no losing scenario here.
Despite the concern, Bucky never causes any problems in his wolf form. He never even wakes up. Sometimes he has nightmares, but Clint has soothed Lucky through enough rough spots to know how to handle it: soft tones and gentle pets, and he calms right down, no matter which form he's in.
At first, Bucky is jumpy about staying over too often, and keeps reassuring Clint that it's okay if he needs alone time. Clint just rolls his eyes and stubbornly clings, and gradually Bucky relaxes. It's not long before he's staying at Clint's apartment by default, and only going back to his old room at the tower when Clint isn't home.
One time, there's an Avengers callout when Bucky is fast asleep as a wolf. Clint grabs Bucky's phone and silences it for him, carefully rolling out of bed. "Lucky, hey boy, c'mere," he whispers, motioning, and Lucky obediently moves from the foot of the bed into the warm spot behind Bucky's curled-up back. Clint scritches his ears. "Good boy, take care of him for me," he whispers, and tiptoes out.
When he gets back in the morning, Bucky is frowning. "You left without me," he accuses.
Clint frowns right back. "Did you really want to come?"
Bucky pauses, like he hadn't considered the logistical challenges of running a mission in fuzzball form. "I... I guess not," he says thoughtfully, and after that, Clint doesn't hear his phone go off for callouts at all.
Four months after that first sleepover, Clint mentions something about going back to their place, and Bucky shoots him a loaded glance. "Our place?" he asks.
"Our place," Clint says. "Right?"
"Right," Bucky says. "Right, yeah," and he squeezes Clint's hand.
*
The Avengers get called out on a mission to fight a pack of power-hungry werewolves trying to bite random people and turn them, and on the way back to the tower Clint gets into a fight with Tony about whether all werewolves are inherently malicious. The team doesn't know about Bucky, as far as he's aware, and Tony might not be convinced by that example anyway given how his parents died, but Clint still refuses to let it go.
you might not want to meet up with us after this one, he texts Bucky.
I'm already at the tower, should I leave?
Clint sighs. up to you, just fyi Stark is being a fuckin jackass
I can take it. brought you pizza <3
"I didn't say it was their fault, but that doesn't mean they're not evil. It doesn't have to be their fault to be true," Tony is saying as they step off the elevator.
"You can't draw conclusions about all of them based on the ones we get called out to fight," Clint argues. "Obviously the ones that need to be fought are shitbags, that doesn't make them all shitbags."
"I've never met a non-shitbag werewolf. Have you ever met a non-shitbag werewolf?"
"Yes I have!" Clint snaps. He glances at Bucky, sitting on the couch with his eyebrows raised, and suppresses the urge to blurt out secrets that aren't his to share. "Listen, it's like... you know the stereotype about polyamorous people being all drama? It's like that. The poly people you know about are the ones that make a big deal out of being poly. There are tons of boring poly people just going about their lives quietly dating more than one person, and you don't hear about them because they're not hollering about it all the time."
"There's a little bit of a difference between relationship drama and, you know, ripping people's throats out," Tony objects.
"Go fuck yourself," Clint growls.
"Whoa, hey," Bucky interjects. "Come eat something, babe."
Clint doesn't want to back down, but clearly Bucky doesn't want him fighting his battles. Clint glares at Tony and stomps over to the couch, wrapping a protective arm around Bucky's shoulders. Bucky leans into him, offering him a slice of pizza.
"I'm not hungry," Clint grumbles. He accepts a bite and discovers that he's lying.
Bucky pats Clint's knee with the hand that isn't feeding him. "The injustices of the world can wait five minutes."
"Does that mean in five minutes I can punch him in the face?" Clint mumbles through a mouthful of cheese.
"Sure, hon," Bucky says, kissing him on the cheek, and Clint ends up just cuddling him and glaring across the room until Bucky drags him home.
*
That night, as they're settling into bed, Bucky asks, "Do you want an open relationship?"
Clint fumbles halfway through taking his aids out and hurriedly sticks them back in. "What? No. Do you?"
Bucky shakes his head. "You just seemed... kind of worked up about it, earlier."
"I was worked up about Stark's anti-werewolf bullshit. The poly thing was just a metaphor. I didn't think you wanted me talking about it, like, directly."
Bucky's eyebrows knit together. "What?"
"What?" Clint repeats.
"You didn't think I wanted you talking about what? Werewolves?"
"Yeah."
Bucky looks bewildered. "Why wouldn't I want you to talk about that?"
"Uh." Clint is also confused. "Do they already know? If Stark was talking shit like that in front of you and he knew, I might have to actually murder him."
"Clint, what the fuck are you talking about?"
"The werewolf thing. Does the rest of the team know?"
"Know what?"
Clint feels like he's in a much less funny version of an Abbott & Costello bit. "Do they know you're a werewolf?"
Bucky blinks. "I... what?"
Clint's stomach enters the uncomfortable lurching transitory phase between the moment he understands what's going on and the moment he accepts it.
"Clint, what?"
"Y—you..." Clint stammers. "You turn into a wolf sometimes. At night. That's... what a werewolf is."
Bucky stares at him. "I do fucking what?"
Clint's stomach exits the transitory phase and plummets. "You didn't know?"
"More information," Bucky demands.
"You turn into a wolf," Clint repeats. "We snuggle."
From the look on Bucky's face, this is not the information he was looking for. "How often? How long has it been happening? Jesus Christ, have I hurt you?"
"No, oh my god, were you not listening?" Clint throws up his hands. "You're not fucking evil, you just snuggle! I don't know how often, a few nights a month? It's just a thing, it happened the first time you stayed over. You said..." Clint tries to remember what Bucky actually said. "You asked if you caused any trouble. I thought you meant the wolf thing."
Bucky's jaw is slightly slack. "I meant, like. Did I snore."
"Oh. Well." Clint fidgets uncomfortably. "You do snore sometimes. It's cute, though. I don't mind."
There's a very long silence.
"You don't mind," Bucky finally echoes. "That I snore."
"Or that you're a werewolf," Clint adds hastily. "I don't mind that either. I don't mind anything. I love you, I want you here, you can turn into whatever you want."
Bucky stares at him for another long moment, then says, "Do you want to yell at Stark to quit talking shit about your boyfriend?"
"Yes, oh my god, can I?" Clint starts to get up. From Bucky's other side, Lucky lifts his head questioningly.
"For fuck's... not now." Bucky yanks him back under the covers. "Tomorrow."
"I can tell him about you?" Clint checks, just to be sure. "I get to defend your honor?"
Bucky lays his head on Clint's shoulder, squeezing him tight. "Yeah," he says, and kisses Clint's collarbone. "Yeah, babe, you can defend my honor."
Clint does a tiny little fistpump and settles in for a good long snuggle.
Twenty minutes later, Bucky turns into a wolf. Nobody's awake to notice.