Together was definitely better than not. It was harder to really fall into a pit of endless despair when you lived with someone who loved you. No matter who was having the bad day, the other one was always there to try and help them out of it. Not having the time to wallow kind of helped. And not having to verbalize anything made it easier too. They could sign, or sometimes just share knowing looks.
And it was better. It just... felt better.
Clint always felt so endlessly grateful for Bucky that sometimes he didn't even know what to do with that big, huge feeling.
And other times, he was just fucking so happy. Like right now. It felt great to just laugh loudly in the snow, teasing and flirting and roughhousing like a couple of idiots who had all the time in the world. Clint made a noise of protest over the dusting of snow, blowing it out of his face as best he could. It didn't really work, and the snow melted down his forehead, into his hair. "Well," he said, moving to prop himself up on his elbows and give Bucky an overly exaggerated appraising sort of look. "It's never so little. I'd take a big fuck, if you're offering."