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- Tony
It was easy to forget sometimes that not everyone was used to living the high life. Parties and dinners like these had been both a constant and a norm in Tony’s life since he was six. Hell, he could put on a tux in the backseat of a moving car while watching the news and still have time to tinker with adjustments to his latest Iron Man armor. And after the Battle of New York, events like these had only become more popular, largely due to him hosting them. You could throw money at your problems, right? Enough dollars donated would make the nightmares go away, yes?
So yeah, it was a little strange to see someone look like they’d been handed a life sentence every single time he donned a three-piece.
“That bad, huh Barton?”
The man grunted, crossing his arms over his chest, archery-strengthened biceps straining the seams on the fine fabric. “Damn monkey suit itches,” he drawled, jaw more pinched than normal, skewing the syllables slur-ward.
“Wow, you really let the hick come out when you’re uncomfortable.”
Barton just frowned.
Tony looked around for a server carrying drinks when he caught sight of a certain stunning redhead, her hair piled up in elegant curls, heels pushing six inches, and a slit up the skirt of her deep purple gown that went dangerously high. He let loose an appreciative whistle before turning to Barton to make a remark, but stopped when he saw the archer’s absolute awe. The man was totally and undeniably smitten.
“Better close your mouth before you catch flies with it,” Tony teased.
“Hmm?” Barton had yet to take his eyes off Natasha.
Tony shook his head and went back to searching for a drink, muttering, “You got it bad, Barton.” Once alcohol had been procured, he looked back to find Natasha had made her way over to a still flustered Clint. The man was legitimately blushing.
Welp , thought Tony, time to work some magic. He strolled up to the band and handed the leader a crisp bill, saying, “Couple of slow songs, mistro, if you will.”
It would eventually take three more rounds of bribing but Clint and Nat finally made it out to the dance floor.
Tony smiled, congratulating himself with another glass of scotch. There, they should be dating by the end of the week.
- Bruce
He had a doctorate, he was technically a doctor, he’d worked with real Dr. Cho both before and after Ultron, and yeah, okay, sure, he’d done some doctoring in Calcutta while on the run. But this was starting to get out of hand.
“Don’t you two know what a hospital is?”
Natasha shrugged as best she could with Barton leaning on her, her arm around his shoulders. She deposited him in Bruce’s lab chair. “Hospitals are places that ask too many questions.”
Yeah,” Clint agreed. “Besides, it’s just a broken rib.”
“And how did the ‘just broken rib’ happen?” Bruce was already moving towards his stash of Vicodin and support bandages leftover from his Calcutta doctoring days.
“See, that’s one of those too many questions,” Natasha answered.
“Mmmhmm, and you’re going to answer it before you get any of this.” Bruce shook the bottle, pills rattling inside.
“Ain’t that against the hippocratic oath or something?” Clint ground out, his rib undoubtedly throbbing by now.
“Yes, but as I keep telling you, I’m not a doctor.” Bruce folded his arms over his chest. The likelihood of Natasha somehow knocking the bottle out of his hands and sneaking it to Barton was unbelievably high, but he had to put a pin in this somehow. He couldn’t keep facilitating the two’s reluctance to receive proper medical attention.
“Fine,” Barton relented. “We were having-”
“A monkey bar competition,” Nat finished evenly.
Bruce raised a brow.
“We were seeing who could hang upside down the longest. Clint got light headed and fell off.”
“Monkey bars?”
“In Central Park.”
“You walked all the way here from Central Park with a broken rib?”
“S’just a broken rib,” Clint replied.
Bruce sighed and tossed the bottle to Nat. “Get him some water from the sink in the break area. I’ll start bandaging.”
Nat left to retrieve some water and Clint lifted up his shirt, pointing out the rib that was broken. Bruce started wrapping, binding the rib still.
“What were you really doing?” he inquired, finishing up the binding and sticking it in place.
Clint looked at him inquisically but too much so. It was an act and the fact that Bruce could tell meant Barton was probably in more pain than he was letting on.
“Not buying the monkey bars thing?”
“I’ve calibrated my bullshit-o-meter off of Tony Stark. It’s pretty accurate these days.”
Clint sighed and dropped his shirt now that Bruce was finished. He looked over to make sure Nat was still getting water before dropping to a whisper. “Nat had some nightmares last night. She asked me if I would mind sticking close by while she tried to get some shut-eye in this afternoon.” He chewed at his lip, phrasing the next portion. “Long story short, don’t try to shake the Black Widow from a bad dream.”
Bruce nodded, scratching absently at a patch of dry skin on his elbow. “Well, she’s lucky to have a supportive boyfriend like you.”
“Oh! We’re not, that is, we’re, um, uh…”
“Sorry,” Bruce apologized hurriedly, “I just assumed.” He gathered and put away his tools before returning to the station at which he’d been working before the interruption. But he glanced at the corridor to the break area and decided to risk a question. “You’d like to be, though, right?”
Clint’s eyes were wide, honest, answering in a way words never could. “I-”
“Why is the break area so far away?” Nat questioned, appearing from the hallway, glass in her head. “You might as well go to the common floor and back.”
“It’s to keep it away from anything that might be contaminated out here,” Bruce answered.
Nat handed Clint the glass and the pills; he took both with a smile on his face. “Well thanks again, Bruce. I know we should go to medical but-”
“Don’t worry about it,” he cut in, scratching at his elbow again. “As long as it’s not major surgery that is.”
Nat smiled and chastely pecked his cheek before addressing her partner. “C’mon, Barton. Time to get you into bed before you lose leg function with those meds.” She threw his arm over her shoulders and marched him out in the same way they’d entered.
Bruce shook his head, smile on his face. “Friday,” he called.
“Yes, Dr. Banner.”
“Put in an order for some more first aid supplies.”
“Ordering now, Dr. Banner. Anything else?”
Bruce scratched the dry skin on his elbow. He really should try that lotion Betty had recommended for him years ago.
Betty.
“Yeah, have a nice dinner set up on Barton’s floor. Candles, soft music, the works.”
Maybe he’d lost his chance at happiness with a woman he’d loved for years and never told, but that didn’t mean Barton had to.
- Thor
“I can’t tell you how great it is to finally have someone to go to this with,” Natasha expressed, unfolding her program for the Royal Danish Ballet’s performance of The Nutcracker .
“Indeed,” Thor answered beside her. He’d been in Tromso earlier that week with Jane and Nat had finished taking down a Hydra cell outside of Helsinki. So when a good old winter storm blew up hindering her return for Christmas Eve at the Tower, she’d invited Thor to venture over with her to Denmark and take in a performance she hadn’t seen since the Nineties.
It hadn’t occurred to her in the past that Thor might enjoy the ballet, but after a long night of him regaling them all with tales of Asgard’s opulent theater performances, she’d thought she might as well give it a try.
“Although I do apologize for Jane not attending with us. I’m afraid her research has hit something of a critical point.”
Nat hummed, flicking through the program. “She needn’t have lied. I’m not offended by anyone’s lack of love for ballet. It’s a bit of an acquired taste.”
“Your Hawk is not a fan of the stage?”
Well there were red flags all over that sentence. She folded her program up carefully. “Stage, no. He’s more of a ring man: circus, boxing. Although we do have a trade-off system of musicals to dog shows.”
“Dog show? Was that the event after the Feast of Thanksgiving promenade with all the balloons?”
“Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, and yes.”
Thor nodded, grinning. “I do recall Barton commenting that they were all good boys who deserved to win.”
“Try actually being at one with him. He has me elbow people out of the way so he can get a picture of as many dogs as he can with his phone.” She smiled on the end despite feeling suddenly incredibly homesick. “Of course he’s also used old circus contacts to get me backstage to more than one Broadway show, so I suppose we’re even.”
“You’re quite the pair.”
Nat tried not to flinch. Time to nip this one in the bud. “Thor, we’re not… Clint and I aren’t… we’re not like you and Jane. We’re friends. That’s all.”
Thor stroked at his beard opening his program with his other hand. “I apologize. I should’ve known better, Lady Romanoff. You see, there’s a fierce warrior maiden back on Asgard who many assumed I would take for my bride. But our friendship is one of the things I cherish most in my life. If that’s the nature of your and Barton’s relationship than I congratulate you on having such a bond.”
Nat nodded and sat back a bit more comfortably in her seat.
“Now that I think about it,” Thor went on, “I could really see Barton with that English agent, Drew.”
Nat whipped around to look at the Asgardian. “As in Jessica Drew?”
“Aye. I think they have a compatible spirit about them.”
She scoffed. “No way. I’ve seen them try to agree on SHIELD cantina food back in the day. I get the whole opposites attract thing, but they’re way too different. Also,” she sat closer, “she slapped him once. More than once. Like, I get it, Clint can really be so slappable sometimes, but with how he grew up, with his father and Jacques, straight up hitting him when he’s done something wrong is so… toxic. Not to mention she’s taller than him. Which is totally fine, but weird, right? She’d have to lean down to kiss him and-” She snapped her jaw closed and stared daggers into Thor.
The thunder god kept his gaze on his program but a smile was undeniably on his lips.
Nat sighed and returned to sitting squarely in her seat. “I can’t believe I just got played by a guy who’s idea of subtlety includes a space hammer.”
Thor’s grin widened. “Well when you’re brothers with the God of Mischief you do pick up a few tricks.” He looked over to find Natasha resolutely staring at the still dropped red curtain. “I meant no harm, Lady Romanoff.”
“I know. I just…”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
She gave a slight nod but was smiling again by the middle of the first act.
- Steve and Bucky
It had been difficult in the immediate weeks after his defection and deprogramming, but Bucky had found ways to keep the horrifying stream of returning memories to a minimum, largely by exercising a shit-ton. Boxing had really been his saving grace, especially when Steve did it with him. There was something so comforting in the repetitive thwack of fists meeting canvas.
But today when Bucky entered the gym, Steve beside him, a quiet yet strong and grounding presence, he realized they were not alone.
Barton and Romanoff were sparring on the impressive mat setup the Tower’s gym included. Memories of Natalia were scarce in his brain, but he knew they had once been close. The exact nature of their relationship was still a blur, and maybe that was for the best. He’d trained her, though, that much he did know, and having done so he could easily tell she was holding back. Barton, on the other hand, was sweating, breathing heavy, and looked a shade of red that nearly matched Nat’s hair.
Steve casually strolled up to the mat, easily crossing his arms over his chest. “She’s really putting you through your paces, huh Hawkeye?”
Clint huffed a laugh as Natasha took advantage of his momentary distraction and attacked. Clint managed to block the punch to his left side but missed her high kick, leaving her heel to connect with his shoulder. He took a step back with the pain which unfortunately lined him up perfectly for Nat’s follow-through roundhouse, knocking him to the ground.
Nat offered her hand to help him up as she replied to Steve’s comment, “To his credit, he’s greatly improved since we first started sparring together. Used to be his peak best was equivalent to my warmup.”
Clint took her hand and stood, catching his breath for a moment before adding, “I still beat her on the range.”
Nat tilted her her head, conceding. “It’s what makes Strike Team Delta great.” She paused, frowned. “Or I guess what made it great.” Getting used to SHIELD being gone was taking longer than she’d have ever expected.
“You know I haven’t had a good hand-to-hand combat match in awhile,” Steve went on, hoping to keep the focus away from SHIELD’s collapse and the fact that the reason for it was only a few paces behind him. The Avengers had been pretty okay with Bucky taking up residence (Tony had taken some convincing and an all out bar brawl one night, but he eventually came around, although it remained clear he wasn’t a fan of the man who had killed his parents, Hydra’s orders and brainwashing or not) but Steve tried not to draw too much attention to situations were Bucky had been on the opposing side. “What’d’’ya say, Romanoff?”
Nat glanced at Clint who was already off the mat and chugging from his water bottle. “Go for it,” he encouraged. “Was going to hit the weights anyway.”
“Need a spotter?” Bucky quietly asked. Of all the Avengers, he’d found Barton the easiest to connect to. There were no dark memories of the man to impede friendship, he’d done the whole mind control thing himself back during the Battle of New York, and he’d worked with Natalia for years resulting in experience with rehabilitating ex-Russian agents. Plus he was the only person to ever beat his sniper record set in WW2, a record he hoped to reclaim someday in a shooting match.
Baton shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
The weights were close enough to the sparring mats that Bucky could both spot for Clint and watch Steve and Natalia. She was a vision, a lethal dancer having fun with the ebb and flow of her and her opponent’s movements. And Steve danced with her. Bucky had always admired how Steve could perfectly copy the choreography in the picture shows they’d sneaked into as kids. He’d found it a shame none of the girls ever asked him to dance. Then again, it had given him the chance to do so.
He pushed away the feeling pulling at his chest. Seventy years later and he still couldn’t own up to how Steve made him feel.
“What are they talking about?” Clint asked, coming out his his set and sitting up.
Bucky returned to the present and listened in on Steve and Natalia’s conversation briefly before answering, “Natalia is trying to set Steve up with someone named Jennifer.”
Clint huffed a laugh. “Yeah, she told me about that game.”
“Game?”
Clint looked up at Bucky, eyes calculating, no doubt debating how much to tell. He reached for his water bottle. “Game, yeah. She’s hoping she can annoy him into admitting he’s gay.” He took a sip. “Or bi.”
Bucky fell silent, paying strict attention now to the conversation between Steve and Natalia. She landed a hit and Steve went back a few steps. She had him distracted with coming up with excuses for not dating anyone she suggested. God, she was good.
But she wasn’t the only one with the capabilities required for a good distraction. And maybe it was out of latent need to protect Steve or maybe it was born of his own frustrations at not being able to say the truth, but Bucky had been paying attention to Natalia and her ex-SHIELD partner, had ammo, and finally saw a chance to use it.
“If anyone should be dating,‘Talia, it’s you and Barton,” he called out.
Clint choked on his water beside him. Nat faltered a step allowing Steve to land a finishing blow.
Ooh, Bucky realized with a slight grin, there was way more there than I thought .
- Scott, Sam, and Wanda
The covert mission had been a success, but Sam had known this was coming the moment they boarded the Quin-Jet and Nat had that *look* in her eyes and a limp on her right leg. Clint, right behind her, had his jaw clenched and no trace of his usual humor. He’d taken the jet’s controls, initiating their takeoff, Natasha sitting beside him in silence, not even looking at her partner.
“Lover’s tiff?” Scott whispered from beside him.
Sam shrugged. “I think Nat got hurt while disobeying our order to clear out. Clint’s pissed she risked her life going for the secondary objective of our mission. And in any case, they’d have to be a couple first for it to be a lover’s tiff.”
Scott looked confused. “They’re not?”
“Right?! Thank you. I thought I was the only one confused by that.”
From the cockpit, Clint put the jet on autopilot and turned to his partner, signing something with harsh intensity. She signed back, equally upset.
“Any idea what they’re saying?” Sam asked.
Pitching his voice higher in tone, Scott whispered, “Oh Clint, I’m sorry. I love you so much. Will you ever forgive me?”
Sam grinned and joined in, dropping his voice ridiculously low. “Of course Nat. I love you so much.”
“Let’s get married.”
“We already are.”
They devolved into kissy noises.
“You two suck,” Wanda piped up from across the pair.
“We’re just having a little fun, Wanda,” Scott defended, infectious smile on his face.
Wanda got up and moved to sit beside them. “No, I mean, you suck at that.” She pointed to Clint and Nat still signing angrily at each other. “Clearly it’s, ‘What if your hand had gotten injured, Natasha? I’d never be able to hold it.’”
Scott jumped back in. “Oh, Clint. You’d kiss it to make it all better.”
“I would. And then you’d kiss me. And we’d kiss and kiss and kiss. Oh, Clint, I want to have your babies.”
Sam snorted. “You really think that’s better?”
Wanda held up her hands. “Fine, I’ll be Nat. You be Clint.”
“Fine. Oh, ‘Tahsa-washa, dearly love, I can’t stand it when you’re hurt. It makes having sex so much more difficult.”
“Not if you’re bottom, big boy.”
Scott quietly wolf-whistled. “Got steamy in here.”
Wanda went on, “I’ll ride you like a stallion, handsome.”
“You know I like it better that way, kitten.”
Wanda laughed, asking a bit too loudly, “Kitten?”
Nat turned to face the crew in the back, eyes hard but not mean. “Dare I ask what’s going on back there?”
The three shook their heads. Wanda returned to the other side of the jet.
Scott eventually nodded off, Sam got started on paperwork, and Wanda used the rest of the trip home to meditate. It was while she was doing so that she accidently slipped into Clint and Nat’s streams of consciousnesses.
I know the mission is and always will be the most important thing to you, Nat, but the situation back there was getting dangerous. Fury specifically said getting the file was secondary; you shouldn’t have risked your life for it, especially not with Ross’s team closing in.
Clint, I was right there. I had an open window to obtain information that could lead to the take down of over seventeen Hydra bases. I wasn’t going to pass that up.
Clint was quiet for a moment, then, I could’ve lost you.
Nat sighed gently, thoughts softening with it, But you didn’t, birdbrain.
Clint huffed a laugh. Wanda could feel Nat smiling.
She pulled away and left them alone.
+1. Clint and Natasha
“This is it, isn’t it? This is really the end.” Natasha stood looking out over the gathering Wakandan troops. “Leave it to us to wait for the actual end of the world.”
“Well,” Clint started, reaching for her hand. “Better late than never.”
She squeezed his hand and leaned into him, his arm coming to wrap around her shoulders. He kissed her temple and looked out at the view she was observing. “We can do this.”
She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “And if we don’t?”
“Then let’s make this the best date ever.”
Natasha turned in his arms and leaned up to kiss him. “Technically our only date.”
“Hmm,” he kissed her back, wishing it hadn’t taken so long to do this. “I’d argue some things were dates.”
“Like what?”
Well,” he took her in his arms, “that time Tony bribed that band to play slow, romantic songs until we finally danced.”
“You were a surprisingly good dancer.”
“I’m full of hidden talents.”
She kissed him again. “What other things were dates?”
“That dinner Bruce secretly set up for us.”
“You kept cringing when you laughed because of your broken rib.”
“That you gave me.”
She dipped her head, tucking it into the curve of his neck. “Sorry.”
Clint kissed her forehead. “Remember when Bucky said we should date?”
“Thor actually said the same almost two years before that.”
Clint sighed. “Maybe we should’ve listened.”
“We did eventually.” She let out a long breath, taking in the feeling of finally being in his arms. So much time wasted, and yet she wouldn’t have traded it for anything. “It was always going to be you. I knew the moment you didn’t fire that arrow.”
He chuckled a little, and held her tighter. “I knew in that moment too.” He gently placed a curled finger under his chin and tilted her face upwards. He gazed at her and her at him before they closed the space between them.
A moment later they heard a man clear his throat behind them.
“Our satellites have reported unusual activity in our airspace,” T’Challa informed them. “It’s time.”
Clint looked down at Natasha and gave her a small smile. “Ready?”
“With you? Always.”