Click. Click. Beep.
Bruce's eyes shot open.
Beep.
He heard the sound of the coffee machine coming from down the hall.
Bruce sat up to stretch but was met with some resistance against his chest. He looked down.
Oh.
That's someone's wrist, he thought.
He followed the arm up to look at the owner of said arm.
Clint lay facing him, his mouth agape, breathing heavily. He was asleep.
Bruce looked back to his chest.
He lifted his hand and took a hold of Clint's wrist. He began to very slowly pulled Clint's hand out of his shirt.
The movement disturbed Clint's slumber and he moved his fingers a little.
Bruce shivered slightly as Clint's fingers grazed his chest.
Once he had successfully placed Clint's hand next to his face in the sofa, Bruce stood up and stretched his whole body.
Beep.
Bruce followed the noise, leaving the media room and plodding down to the kitchen.
Thor was sitting in front of the coffee machine, looking at it curiously.
He tentatively lifted a finger and pressed a button.
Beep.
"Damn you, machine!"
Bruce chuckled as he walked over and pressed a button.
Beep. Beeeeep.
Black liquid began to pour into a cup placed under the nozzle.
"Ah, hah! Thank you Dr. Banner." boomed Thor, delighted.
Bruce smiled back.
"At least my PhD is being put to good use." He laughed.
Thor stared at him, confused.
"Uh," started Bruce, "it's the thing that makes me... Oh, never mind."
He walked over to the fridge to make himself some breakfast.
-o-
"Yo butt-head, get up." said Natasha before jabbing Clint in his side.
"Wherewhonowsaywhat" mumbled Clint as he scrambled around, eventually falling on the floor.
"Christ, you're meant to be one of SHIELD's top agents. God help us all." she deadpanned, smirking slightly.
He climbed back onto the sofa and sat down. Natasha sat next to him.
They both stared at the floor in companionable silence; Clint's eye lids half closed.
"So..." she began. "You and Bruce, huh?"
"Yeah." groaned Clint, not really listening.
"I mean, I knew you were gay but I never knew you had feelings for Banner."
"Yeah."
"Didn't believe it when Tony messaged me, but then I saw the photo."
"Yeah."
"I think he sent it to the rest of the team, too."
"Yeah."
Clint rubbed his eyes and tried to wake up a little. He played the last part of the conversation in his head. "... Wait, what did you say?"
Natasha sighed and shook her head, pulling out her phone.
She passed it over to Clint who looked at the picture on-screen.
Ten seconds later, Natasha was alone, with Clint having ran out of the room.
"Hey, give me my phone back!"
-o-
Clint was running through the corridor to the elevator.
"JARVIS, where's Tony?" he shouted.
"Master Stark is currently away visiting Miss Potts, sir." the computer replied calmly.
Clint stopped in his tracks and leaned against a wall.
"How long will he be?"
"Master Stark didn't specify a time, but I estimate he will arrive between 3 and 4 p.m., sir."
"And what time is it now?"
"11:32 a.m."
"God damn it!" Clint growled, kicking the wall.
"Hey," said a voice behind him. "Everything alright?"
Clint turned to see Bruce with his head poking out of the door to his quarters.
"Bruce!" Clint squealed. "That photo means nothing!"
Bruce frowned.
"What photo?" he asked.
"The photo..." Clint trailed off, mumbling to himself.
"Are you sure you're alright, Clint? You seem rather... disorientated." said Bruce, a quizzical look on his face.
"Have you not checked your phone?" Clint ignored his question.
"My phone? I don't have a phone; I got rid of it when Tony wouldn't stop messaging me."
Clint relaxed.
"Do you want to come in? I've got the water boiling."
Clint was going to refuse but remembered he had to wait 4 hours for Tony to come back.
Plus he wasn't too fond of meeting any of the others in the tower right now.
"Uh, sure." he replied.
Bruce smiled and walked back into his apartment, leaving his front door open.
Clint looked around and rushed in, closing the door quickly.
He stood at the front door for a few seconds before walking towards the lounge.
Bruce sat on one of the chairs surrounding a coffee table looking through his phone. On the coffee table sat a pot of tea with several cups stacked next to it.
Clint sat down and was enjoying the smell of the tea when his brain snapped him back to reality.
"... Bruce?"
"Yup?" he said, not looking up.
"Is that your phone?"
"Yup."
Clint didn't know what else to say.
Bruce's brows furrowed at the screen and then looked up.
"I lied, Clint. Sorry." Bruce admitted, with a tiny smirk on his face. "But what's this I see here..." he added.
He lifted the phone to show the image but Clint smacked the phone out of Bruce's hand.
"I'm sorry Bruce! I really didn't mean it, I swear!" Clint blurted out, his face turning scarlet.
"Clint, it's fine, I know." he said.
Clint's breathing became more rapid as he put his heads in his hands.
They were silent for a long while.
Bruce stared at Clint trying to work out why he was reacting this way.
But then he understood.