A/N: Drawn heavily from the cinematic universe, but totally ignores Laura as a character since she isn't a part of the 'mainstream' comic universe (616). Also uses Deaf Clint Barton, as well as the vent quirk if that makes this story easier on anyone.
Slash pairing: Clint Barton/Wade Wilson
Written from the random prompt: 'A major holiday comes along and hijinks ensue.' I feel this deviates from it though. Not too much graphic sexual content, so try not to be too disappointed.
Clint woke up in a cold sweat. He could still feel the cold energy coming from the scepter Loki pressed against him, the blue creeping over him as the metal dug into his skin. He could still feel the chill that controlled him as he killed all those people. The almost non-existent praise that Loki gave him for his efficiency. Over a year gone since Natasha had brought him back, a year since Tony let him move into the Tower, less than a year since the ventilation rework for his comfort quirks. Tony was a great guy.
When Clint woke up like this, drenched in sweat and shivering from a chill that didn't exist in the temperature controlled Tower, he ran to the comfort of the vents. When Jarvis had first found him in there, a concerned Tony had asked Nat about it. "That's just how Barton is. Even back in S.H.I.E.L.D. you could always find him in the vents if you needed him for an emergency. Phil always let him be about it. I understand too. It's just one of his things."
And the day after Tony had banished him from the Tower for a week. When Clint came back the vents had been redone to allow for comfortable movement without losing the feeling of enclosure. Honestly, Tony was too good to Clint sometimes. He even had a cleaning program set up so Clint wouldn't be in dust all the time.
So here Clint was, still covered in a fine layer of sweat, panicking from the feeling of ice along his nerves and the blue glow he swore he could feel but not see, dressed only in loose sleep pants with his bow and quiver in hand, crawling through the vents at just after 1 am on Christmas day.
He finally calmed down once he hit the common floor's vents, finally realizing that he couldn't hear anything. He had run off without his ears again. At least it was a common enough occurrence now so Jarvis could send a cleaning bot into the vents to warn him if there was an alarm or anything. Not like it honestly mattered though, he hadn't joined the others on a mission since the Chitauri invasion. If he couldn't trust himself to stay calm he wouldn't endanger the others with his panic attacks.
It was with those heavy thoughts weighing down his mind that he caught sight of something….odd crossing in front of him several meters ahead. He….really didn't want it to be what he thought it was, but honestly he had no other ideas. Granted, believing that Deadpool was crawling around your vents on Christmas, complete with Santa hat and a rather large and bulging bag, was never a comforting idea.
As he made his way to what he thought was Deadpool's location, he debated what to do. Jarvis hadn't given an alarm, so either Deadpool wasn't here on business, or had actually managed to get past the security systems. And yet again, neither was really all that comforting to think about. Where the mercenary was concerned, nothing was really comforting. The surprisingly controlled chaos that followed the mercenary either swept you up or ripped you apart. There was just no avoiding it. Resigned to at least try to limit the damage Deadpool might cause, Clint braced himself to join chaos for the night. At least he didn't have to listen to the mercenary's constant chatter; this was the one time Clint might actually be glad he left his ears behind.
As Clint rounded the corner, he twitched. Deadpool's masked face was inches from his own, the features seemingly expressing intense joy at seeing Clint. The mercenary was gesturing wildly to Clint, implying that the mercenary had started his never ending chatter. Clint held up his hand and Deadpool immediately stopped moving. "I can't hear you Deadpool, and before you start talking louder trying to wake everyone up, I'm deaf so even that won't let me hear you."
Deadpool's head tilted to one side, as if he was considering Clint's words. And much to Clint's surprise, the mercenary lifted up the bottom of his mask and started signing to him. I didn't expect anyone to be awake Legolas! I was just trying to leave some presents for my favorite Avengers - He doesn't need to know that - Yeah yeah alright the point I know you guys I don't need to be reminded.
So you're actually just giving us presents? Why didn't you wait until morning or something and just leave them with the receptionist on the ground floor?Clint wondered if that's why Jarvis didn't alert anyone. Maybe Deadpool was honestly here leaving actual Christmas gifts. The guy did spend a lot of time trying to get the team's attention, desperate for any kind of recognition from them. And thinking back to his file, he had been drafted into an experimental program on the basis that it would possibly make him a hero.
Deadpool pouted. Well the last time I tried that the receptionist didn't like the hea- I mean present- so I figured this year a little TLC was needed, you know, some personal touches to show I care-Clint remembered last year alright. Tony had to find a new receptionist after the other quit due to PTSD from Deadpool's 'gifts' and Tony's manic personality. At least the new one didn't get flustered by Deadpool's behavior.
And suddenly, Clint's personal space was invaded. He realized belatedly that he had violated the cardinal rule when dealing with Deadpool: Don't ignore or lose track of the mercenary. Deadpool had apparently felt put out by Clint's wandering attention and had shuffled forward to peer intently at the archer. His gloved hands were on the archer's bare shoulders, the partially masked face far too close for comfort, spandex pressing against the archer's forehead. Clint could smell the musk, blood and gunpowder that made up the mercenary's scent, and rather than being off putting like the other Avengers found it, Clint could feel himself relaxing minutely. The combination of Deadpool's scent, the hands bracing him and the touching of their foreheads reminded him of field ops with old S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, the quiet comfort of another agent checking your status without words, offering support without question. Clint let his eyes close briefly.
Not a second later Clint felt those reassuring gloves leave his shoulders. He may have given a brief whine, not that he'd ever admit to it, before something soft was draped over his shoulders. He opened his eyes to Deadpool's mask still filling his field of vision, and flicked his eyes down to notice a blanket covering his bare arms. He looked back up at Deadpool, then mouthed Thank you. Clint watched as the mask crinkled up in what appeared to be actual happiness. Anything for my favorite archer Clint read on chapped lips.
Clint set aside his bow and quiver, showing the mercenary how much trust he had for him. He watched the mask's 'eyes' widen at the action, before Clint settled in to get comfortable. If Deadpool was with him, at least he wasn't doing damage somewhere else in the Tower. And besides, Clint hadn't gotten much sleep in the past few days so he didn't really mind just sitting around doing nothing. He settled back, resting his forearms on his thighs, took a deep breath of Deadpool's scent, and closed his eyes as the mercenary kept watch.
Clint woke up with a jolt. He looked around in a daze, not recognizing his surroundings at first. Metal walls, ventilation system. Small cleaner bots scuttling past, ventilation system of the Tower then. Soft fabric covering his chest, must've gotten a blanket before nesting last night. Arms tightening around his waist, clothed cheek against his temple, hard chest pressed against his back, he had no idea about that. Clint froze, tensed a little. One of the arms tightened more in response, gloved hand rubbing over his hip comfortingly. The other arm moved from his stomach slowly, as if the person was trying not to spook him. Slowly a red leather clad arm rose from beneath the blanket, a black gloved hand holding something carefully. The hand opened up slowly, cautiously, revealing Clint's ears. The small innocuous aids glinted up at him cheerfully from that black leather covered hand. And he remembered the previous night- well, technically it was during the same morning, but that wasn't the point.
Clint had apparently fallen asleep resting his forehead against Deadpool's. Sometime after, Deadpool must've ran off to get his ears, which meant Clint would have to check the Tower for any traps or tampering later. Still, the mercenary had probably went to get them after having to be silent for so long earlier, and the gesture was appreciated. But the very act of handing them to Clint so carefully, after keeping them close by for what must've been hours while Clint slept, was almost… touching. Clint removed one arm from the confines of the ridiculously comfortable and suspiciously Deadpool-esque blanket and took the aids from Deadpool's hand.
The gloved hand reached up to gently swipe the unruly hair far away from Clint's left ear. Clint reached up and put in the aid, doing the same to the right after the hair was swept away again. The soft noises of breathing in the vent were almost too loud for Clint after a full night kept in silence. The hand still near Clint's ear stroked down his cheek, leather scraping against stubble as the fingers traced his jawline. The gloved hand reached his neck, a finger gently stroking his jugular, making Clint swallow thickly before the hand wrapped loosely around his throat. He raised his hand to rest on the wrist, not removing the hand wrapped around his throat, just acknowledging it. Deadpool gave a soft noise at the motion.
"I went out to poke around the Tower and find where you stashed your aids Katniss. As much as I loved signing to you earlier, and really I love waving my hands around and having someone just get what I'm saying, but you know how hard it is to keep my mouth shut." Deadpool's voice wasn't heard so much as it was felt. Clint felt something tighten inside him, warmth spreading throughout his body as the hand around his neck tightened subtly.
"Yeah I remember Deadpool. Why're you still here? I thought you were just here to deliver gifts and be on your merry way or whatever it is that you do." Clint could barely think with those hands barely touching him. He honestly had no idea why he was so responsive to Deadpool of all people, the guy probably had no idea what he was even doing to Clint.
"Well see that's the problem Legolas. I was going to deliver gifts to all the good Avenging boys and girls, but then you had to go and be wandering around the vents ruining the surprise. And really, what's the point to Santa presents if someone's got to be that one kid who tells the others Santa's not real? Honestly it's like you've never been a kid before! So in a brilliant plan I had thought to distract you with my devilish charms, but then you go and tell me you're deaf! What's the point of being charming if the person you're charming can't even hear you!?" Clint was debating whether or not to tune out Deadpool at this point, because that voice with the touches on his hip and the hand on his throat were going to kill him at this rate.
"And then while we're talking I just had to notice that you had circles under your eyes, and being the good friend that I am, I decided to help you get some shut eye, because really, we can't have our favorite archer losing focus from lack of sleep now can we?" And there went Clint's resolve to ignore or tune out Deadpool. Deadpool's voiced had turned low towards the end as the mercenary turned his head to talk against Clint's skin. He should probably go in later to one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. shrinks, try to figure out why the hand against his throat made him feel safe and not threatened, why the arm pressing him against the hard planes of Deadpool's chest made him feel relaxed and not constricted. And why the one voice that nearly everyone wanted to gouge out their eardrums after listening to for hours was getting him aroused. Because really, there shouldn't be any reason to be aroused by such an annoying person after just one night of surprisingly tender gestures.
"When was the last time you slept a full night Hawkguy?" Almost 3 days ago now, Clint thought. "Because the only one here that shouldn't be able to sleep is me. And you're a sniper, you should know better than anyone to get what sleep you can because you never know when you'll have to go without." To true, but it's not like he went out on missions with the others anymore. They kept trying but… Clint just couldn't trust himself around them. "So when you reacted so well to me checking your condition I figured, why not give my favorite Hawkeye the present of a good night's sleep?" Clint shivered as he felt a spandex covered cheek rub against his hair.
"You know many Hawkeyes then?" Clint closed his eyes and leaned into the cheek nuzzling his hair.
"Well I mean… there is Kate but she's not in the universe yet." Kate? Clint decided not to even ask. "Anyway, I let you fall asleep because you just looked so cute and tired, and I tried to go take care of my actual mission of being Santa. But you got all whiny when I tried to leave so I tucked you in against the wall and at least went to grab your aids, because I know you had to have some. And I love your apartment be-tee-dubs, fantastic bow collection. Then I came on back to you and you stopped having whatever nightmare you were having." With that comment Clint's eyes snapped open and his body tensed. Deadpool had driven away his nightmares? Clint picked up soft chatter coming from below them. Tony and Bruce must be awake now.
"I didn't get to set up the gifts downstairs earlier, so I guess you'll have to take them all for yourself Legolas. Way to ruin everyone's Christmas." Clint felt the chuckle rumble through the chest behind him, the smile against his hair. "But maybe that's what you really wanted huh? Naughty little Robin Hood, stealing all the rich kids' presents."
"Oh? You going to punish me for it Deadpool? After all, I didn't even leave you cookies and milk." Tony did though. God only knows why but Tony did that every year. Probably woke up in the middle of the night to come down and eat them too. Hell, Clint didn't even know why he did half the things he did, let alone why Tony did shit. Take for instance right now: Clint had no idea why he was flirting with Deadpool of all people, in Tony Stark's fancy ventilation system he designed specifically for Clint's quirks.
The mercenary stilled behind him. "… Wade."
"Huh?"
"Call me Wade. I'll accept that instead of cookies this time." The hand squeezed briefly around Clint's neck. "Of course, you'll still owe me cookies at a later date."
Clint smiled. "Sure thing Wade, I'll bake those up for next time."
"Oh he said next time guys! How exciting!" Deadpool squealed in delight as the arm draped over Clint's chest crushed him back against the firm body behind him, alerting him to yet another rather firm object pressing against Clint's back. Clint felt the air leave his body as he felt that hard length against him. And any pretense that Clint had about laughing this off as just another random night in the vents vanished out the grate as he became acutely aware of just how hard he was as well. "Can I unwrap my present now snookum?" Clint shivered at those words, focusing on the utterly filthy turn this morning was taking.
"If you didn't I'd be severely disappointed." The hand on Hawkeye's hip swept low over his hip, teasing against the waistband of his sleep pants. "Don't have all morning Wade."
And like Deadpool- no Wade- had been waiting for his name to be spoken, the still gloved hand dipped beneath the waistband and teasingly ran over Clint's thighs. Clint let out a whine at the teasing touches.
"Clint? Are you in the vents?" Clint jumped at the sound of Bruce right below. The physicist's tired voice sounded concerned.
"Uh yeah, I just had a nightmare and figured I'd try sleeping in the vents for a while. Guess I had another one while dozing off- fuck!" Wade's hand gently cupped Clint's balls, the leather encasing the sensitive skin. Clint's leg twitched and hit the side of the vent, causing a loud clang to be heard below.
"Are you alright up there? Do you need one of us to help you out of the vent?" Clint would've laughed at Bruce's alarmed concern for his safety if Wade hadn't dipped his head down to latch onto Clint's neck. The hand on his neck had moved just enough to allow that mouth to busy itself with leaving a mark on Clint's skin.
"I'm fine, just- damn- perfectly peachy up here Bruce!" The hand on Clint's balls had shifted, moving up to wrap around his already leaking member. The leather encased thumb swept over the leaking head, spreading the pre-cum around to lubricate the surprisingly exquisite hand-job Wade was giving him. Maybe he had a leather kink, cause there's no way Clint should've been enjoying it as much as he was.
"Well you better come out soon, Natasha's going to be here any minute and Steve's brining Bucky over soon as well. You know how Steve is about you being in the vents during 'team bonding', he'll send Natasha up to drag you out anyway." Oh god, Clint didn't want to imagine the smirks and sly looks he'd be getting from Nat if she caught him with someone in the vents, let alone catching him with Wade. But damn if it wasn't hot getting a hand job while Bruce was right below him. Another kink to examine at a later date he supposed.
"Yeah, alright I'll be down soon- Christ!" Wade seemed to be enjoying himself far too much, twisting his wrist so perfectly when Clint was trying to keep his composure for Bruce's sake, and god Wade's thumb just kept sweeping over the head on every down stroke.
"Well, I'll be around if you need emergency medical assistance I suppose. Sounds like the vent's winning this time Barton." And thank god Bruce's voice drifted off away from the vent with accompanying footsteps. Clint bit his lip to keep from moaning as Wade's hand sped up.
"Nonono Legolas, can't have to ruining those pretty lips of yours. Bit down on these instead." The hand that was wrapped around Clint's throat stroked up to his mouth, two leather clad fingers working their way into Clint's mouth. Clint let a strangled whimper escape as his senses were filled with the taste and feel of leather, the unique scent of Wade filling him up with that tentative sense of trust and comfort. Maybe it was just a Wade kink then. A deep chuckle filled the vent. "Wish it was something besides my fingers in that mouth of yours Legolas. Maybe another time huh?"
Clint bucked his hips up into Wade's hand, his tongue running over and around the fingers in his mouth, giving another pathetic whimper at the punishing pace Wade set, the slick leather of Wade's gloves stroking both his cock and his tongue. Clint reached down and gripped at the thighs on either side of his waist, trying to find something to dig his fingers in to kick from losing himself to the pleasure.
"Clint? Are you… watching porn in my vents? Because I have to tell you, that's totally not what I had in mind when I widened those vents." Tony's incredulous voice drifted up to Clint, but all he could hear was the low chuckle against his skin. "I'm sending Nat up in 30 seconds Barton. The cleaning bots shouldn't need to deal with your… ugh…messes. I don't need to make a therapy program for them." And Tony walked off.
"Come on my little archer, we don't have much time left. Time to make the money shot- heh money shot." Clint felt the smile against his neck, could feel himself reaching the edge, just needed a little push. "Come on Clint, come for little ole Deadpool." Clint bit down on the fingers in his mouth at the same time Wade bit down on his neck. A strangled moan made its way out as Clint came harder than he had in what felt like years. Wade kept pumping him lazily through his orgasm, nuzzling into Clint's neck.
"Barton, I'm giving you 10 seconds to be decent before I drag you out of the vent." And there went Clint's afterglow, killed before it even had a chance to breathe. Natasha's voice could cut through even an orgy full of horny teenagers. The comforting warmth against Clint's back immediately fled as Wade vanished around a corner in the vents, leaving Clint with damp sleep pants and a Deadpool styled blanket wrapped around him to preserve what small dignity he had left. Nat's head popped up a few feet away from him, taking in his disheveled state with ease, a small smirk adorning her face. "I see someone had a very Merry Christmas. You know Tony's going to have a fit when he finds out someone slipped past his security."
Clint gave her his best poker face. "What makes you so sure someone was up here with me huh? I could've just had a weird night full of porn and presents."
"Yeah, I wouldn't put that past you when you're bored Clint, but even you're not flexible enough to leave hickeys on your own neck." Nat gave him a smile. "At least you look a lot more relaxed, so I won't press the issue. Come on, Steve's going to be here soon." As Natasha dropped down from the vent to give him some small privacy, Clint couldn't help bringing a hand to his neck. He might just have to call on the services of a certain mercenary soon.