Shake It Out

Word Count: 2,382

So, this was just supposed to be a little one hundred word drabble on tumblr to a random song that my ipod shuffled out for me. And, after that song just so happened to be Shake It Out by Florence + the Machine, it became... this mess that I gave to my dearest mranthonyeffingstark.

Well, here ya go.

"Clinton Francis Barton, you're up next." The secretary called out to him, and he tried his hardest not to fidget. What was he doing here? He was just some random kid who had just barely managed to get his GED, yet here he was, sitting in a college admissions office. Waiting on his turn to be interviewed by the admission official.

Oh, if he messed this up, he was screwed. This was his one shot at having a successful future, and not living his life like his older brother. He fidgeted with his dress shirt, fixed his hair a bit. He needed to make a good first impression.

The door opened, and out strolled an immediate mood dampener; Anthony fucking Stark. He was going here? There was no way Clint could get in then. As the other rushed by, Clint hung his head in dismay and moved to get up. There was no point in stayi-

" ?" The calm voice of the secretary called. "You can go in now." He turned and saw the firm smile on her face, a reassuring nod being granted to the poor boy from the middle of nowhere.

With a determined look in his eyes, he entered the office. He would do this.

—

Clint later learned that the secretaries name was Maria Hill, and thanked her profusely when he got his official acceptance letter.

He had gone and applied for student loans and was glad to get them, not being able to afford college any other way. Barney helped him to migrate to his dorm when it was time, easily moving his few belongings into the small room. They didn't even begin to take up his half of the space, which caused a chuckle to escape his brother at his expense. They swapped a bit of playful banter, for old times sake, before Barney handed him a small envelope.

"Good luck, baby brother," The elder of the Barton children said, living as fast as he could.

Clint unpacked quietly, waiting for the impending moment he would meet his roommate. It was not a Co-Ed dorm, so there was no chance of it being a girl, thankfully; he knew he would not be able to deal with a week out of every month being filled with bitching. He hoped he did not get stuck rooming with some nosy, no life nerd. He had always been a bit of a jock himself, doing archery and cross country when he had been in school.

The door was flung open later, while Clint lay on his new bed with his eyes trained on the ceiling in deep thought. He bolted up, nearly topping off of the bed. He blinked a few times, sure he was imagining things. After a few moments, he realized he wasn't though.

There, in the doorway of his dorm room, with nothing more than a suitcase and a box labeled 'shit I don't need but mom insists on taking', was Tony Stark.

Clint wished it was a Co-Ed dorm suddenly.

—

It was not that bad, really. Clint and Tony hit it off great, finding an odd camaraderie in pissing off the other people in the dorm. They stayed up late and complained about teachers and assignments and girls and anything else that happened to come up. Tony managed to sneak alcohol in and the two would get drunk and laugh and wake everyone else up, and then somehow not get in trouble, and Clint loved it. For the first time in his 19 years, he had a true friend.

But, like every true friendship, it did not come without it bumps.

Tony had an extremely abrasive personality and no understanding for personal space. Clint hated how the other would poke and prod until Clint just had to escape, or he would go insane. The other rummaged through his things, leaving them scattered everywhere, and sometimes even hid his belongings. To make matters worse, Clint could not, under any circumstances, do homework around Tony, either, not unless he wanted to be reminded how stupid he was. There were times where Clint even felt the need to just leave the campus entirely, running through the nearby park at midnight to try and calm himself.

Those times, though, he would always return to a quivering young genius. Tony would be tossing and turning, sometimes even crying out in his sleep, a fist held tightly over his heart. Clint would rouse the other from his fitful sleep, immediately forgetting why he had been angered by the other in the first place. He'd pull his roommate close, trying to calm the shaking and remind him it was all just a dream; Loki and Thor were just myths, Tony did not have some weird battery in his chest, Clint was not a secret agent, Coulson was alive and well in the next room, Bruce was some just a mousy young man, not a big green rage monster, and Natasha… Well, he would believe it if Natasha really was a Russian spy. There was no SHIELD, Fury was the dean of their college, not some crazy ex-general in charge of a secret government program. Chitauri were not real, neither was the tesser-whatever or a magical mind-controlling glow stick.

Many nights like this ended with the two curled up together in one of their beds, both too emotionally exhausted. They'd wake up and act like it never happened, going about their daily routines. 'It's for the best,' Clint would think as he watched the other a bit longingly. 'He's your best friend, and it's better that way.'

But it wasn't. It really wasn't, because Clint felt himself breaking as he tried to just laugh with the other and be like they were always were. It hurt too much to not be around the other, but it hurt to be near him as well. He started to intentionally storm out at night, knowing that Tony would not sleep properly if he was not nearby. It was pathetic, but it was how Clint got by.

Until Tony met Pepper, and suddenly his roommate was moving into an apartment off campus with her.

Clint pasted on his grin, patting the genius on his back and congratulating him. The motion, the words, they stung. He wanted to take them back, to shrink away from the other and hide. Clint could not do that, though. He had to put on the happy face, like he always do, because it was Tony's job to be an emotional wreck, not his.

Clint takes up archery again, having Barney swing by with his old recurve one weekend. Their college had an archery club, not that Clint had time to consider it before. With his best friend gone now, he did, though. He found he still had the same amazing accuracy that he was once praised for. It was a nice distraction, calming.

Natasha somehow talked him into going to her martial arts class with her. He was not bad, thankfully, but he was no Natasha Romanov. Not even close. But, it was a welcome way to get his emotions out, and he rather enjoyed all the time he spent with Natasha.

Until it became apparent she wanted more one evening when she kissed him on their way back from the class. He froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. It did not feel right, not even close, but he kissed her back anyways. She pulled away with a small sigh of disappointment, and he almost felt offended, but they both knew why she was really sighing. He did not want this, and she did. And, it disappointed him as well. He should have been glad to have such a stunning young woman want him. But, he wasn't.

All because of god damn Anthony Edward Stark.

—

Clint and Natasha actually dated for a little while. It was easy enough, because they were around each other so much anyways. It even kept his mind off of his ex-roommate more than archery or martial arts ever could. He felt happy, startlingly so. It was nice.

But, it still bothered him to sit next to Tony in class some days, seeing the other's condition slowly deteriorate. Even worse, his once best friend would not talk to him about it, just wave him off and tell him to pay attention, often times throwing in a crack at Clint's average level intelligence or his GED. Clint would shy away then, glaring sharply at the other, if he did not just get up and leave the lesson.

A month into Clint and Natasha dating, and only a month before spring semester was over, Pepper threw Tony out of their shared apartment and back into the small dorm room that had grown so lonely. Clint blinked when he walked into to see the other seated in his bed, leaning against the wall with a bottle of scotch to his lips and a goofy grin on his face that was extremely not Tony. Tony looked at him with clouded brown eyes and chuckled. "Bet you never thought you'd see me here again," he managed to say, the words ringing so true. "Never planned to be here again, really. Didn't wanna be…"

The words may have trailed away, but the sting did not. "Fuck you, too, Stark," Clint spat, slamming the door shut behind him as he hurried away. He could not go in there, not with Tony like this. He rushed to Natasha, tumbling into her embrace as soon as the door was open. He was desperate and hurt, and needed someone, anyone. Natasha did not shove him away, just let Clint cling to her, rubbing soothing circles in his back.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, Clint," She whispered, doing her best not to wake her roommate. "You need to get rid of… This. Of Tony, if you've got to. You can't keep hurting yourself like this."

If only Clint could.

—

Clint, with a lot of persuading, was able to get a dorm reassignment. He was in a whole other building entirely, thank god. He went to pack his stuff up when he knew Tony had class to avoid confrontation, getting it done rather fast. He held his stuff in his arms, preparing to leave when the door swung open before him, Tony entering, eyes wide and looking about frantically.

"Can you move?" Clint asked, trying to seem cold as he moved to push past his soon to be ex-roommate. But, Tony did not budge one bit. In fact, the genius had the audacity to push Clint's belongings from his arms and to the floor. "Hey!" Clint cried indignantly, blue eyes locking on the other in fury. "What the-"

His complaining was silenced as his friend's lips landed on him and he was forced against the wall. It was desperate and needy, and everything Clint ever wanted. He began to melt into it, clinging to Tony helplessly. But, he soon came back to himself and remembered why he was doing this all.

He shoved Tony into the opposite wall, grabbing his stuff before the other could recover, and hurried away, without so much as a goodbye.

—

Clint made it through the rest of his freshman year in college, as well as his sophomore year, without seeing hide nor hair of Tony Stark. It was a relief and it wasn't, all at the same time. It kind of stung, but Clint was getting better. Less often did a phantom Tony visit him in his dreams, and it felt so much easier to just live.

Clint dated people, actually dated them. Not many, though, the most memorable being Phil Coulson, of all people (the other was quirky, and just… let Clint be Clint, and he loved him for it.), but nothing ever really worked out.

Finally, though, Tony and Clint did bump into each other. Quite literally.

Clint was heading to his math class, looking down at his phone to see if he had time to stop by the cafe to grab something to snack on, when he quite suddenly collided with someone else. He looked up, beginning to apologize, when he stopped himself short. Blue and brown locked for the briefest of moments before Clint turned and ran.

He had thought he was doing better, but he was not. He was far from it, if how he picked up pace as the other called his name meant anything. He pushed past people, ignoring all the angered yells thrown at him as he just kept running. He could not do this, not here, not now, not ever. It still hurt.

"Clint!" A hand latched onto his arm, stopping him abruptly in his tracks. He tried to yank his arm away, and could have, but he was losing his cool, and fast. "Clint, please! Just listen!" Tony sounded so desperate, about as desperate as Clint felt, and oh god, did it hurt.

"Tony, just let go," Clint whispered, voice shaking as he kept his eyes down. "I have to get to ma-"

He was cut off, like he had been so long ago, by those soft lips pressed against his. He needed to run, to get away. But, he didn't want to, could not as he froze. He stayed perfectly still, Tony eventually pulling away. He looked away from Clint, letting out a resigned sigh. "I, uh, guess…" Tony just shrugged, giving up and turning away.

Clint watched as he walked away, still stuck in his spot. Who was he kidding? Why was he letting his longtime crush (although that did not seem suitable, it worked for the time being) just walk away? Why was he still insisting on being so difficult?

Clint pulled tony back before he could get too far away, spinning the brunet around and mashing their lips together. It took a moment, but Tony soon melted into the kiss, the exchange becoming less desperate and much more passionate. Clint could hate himself later, but for now, he was going to enjoy this. He finally had the other, and he did not plan on letting him slip away, not again. Come Heaven or Hell, Tony was going to be his, damn it. He would make sure of that.