Hey everyone! This is just a Clint/Bruce one shot I've been thinking about. I am really in a Clint deserves all the love kinda mood lately, so that's what this is Its mostly sweet and fluffy with a bit of smut. I hope you enjoy it.
I do not own Marvel.
When Clint Barton wandered into the Tower kitchen early one Wednesday morning, every occupant froze in shock. Well, every occupant bar Natasha who merely quirked her lips in amusement. Eyes widened, mouths hung open, Tony even stopped drinking his coffee for a moment. For before them stood Clint, but not as they had ever seen him. The archer was wearing a fluffy green hoodie that was at least two sizes too big for him, hanging down to mid-thigh, the hood scrunched up around his neck and his hands covered by the hanging sleeves. Underneath the jumper was a pair of soft looking grey sweatpants. The whole outfit finished off with bright purple socks. He looked completely adorable.
Steve couldn't help the small coo that slipped out of his mouth, though he was thankful that the other man was still too out of it to register the noise, even if he did have his hearing aids in. Tony opened his mouth, no doubt to say something snarky but a sharp look from Natasha quickly had him snapping it closed again with a sharp click.
Everyone was suitably surprised by the archer's attire seeing as how Clint usually only wore tight fitting tac gear, or jeans and shirts, with no doubt numerous weapons stashed upon his person. Right now, he looked downright harmless, though they were obviously aware that looks could be deceiving.
Clint took a seat at the bench right next to Bruce, seemingly unaware how he was leaning into the others personal space. Bruce blinked slowly, unsure of whether he should move away or just stay put. When Clint started to actually lean against his side, he decided to stay put. He didn't want to disturb his friend after all.
Natasha settled a cup of coffee in front of Clint, who swallowed it down in three large gulps and Bruce couldn't help but be impressed. Natasha refiled his mug again and after the second cup was mostly gone Clint started to look more awake. His blue eyes coming more into focus. He didn't move away from Bruce though. He actually moved closer until their legs were touching.
Bruce wasn't sure what to make of the behaviour, people tended to avoid physical contact with him, not seek it out.
Around them everyone slowly ground back into action, though Sam kept shooting concerned looks at Clint. Clint didn't notice, soaking up the warmth of Bruce by his side.
"Are we training today?" Bucky asked Clint, amusement clear on his face.
Clint let out a large yawn as he clutched his coffee to him. "Sounds good, just give me like five minutes."
Bucky rolled his eyes. "I'll meet you down there."
Clint nodded, standing up and stretching slowly and Bruce found himself with his face nearly pressed into Clint's chest. He turned away blushing brightly, not missing the smirk Tony sent him.
Clint wandered out of the kitchen, only looking marginally more awake than he had been when he'd entered.
From that day it became a regular thing, seeing Clint traipsing around the Tower in soft, comphy looking clothes. Too large hoodies in every shade of the rainbow as well as a particular pair of purple tights that had Bruce's mouth going dry every time Clint wore them. How is it that a grown many looked so damn good in tights? Clint also seemed to own an indefinable quantity of socks, wearing a different colour or pattern every time he left his room.
"It means he feels safe here" Natasha explained one day when she came across Tony, Steve, Bucky and Sam discussing the matter in the lounge room, while Bruce watched on.
"I think I should talk to him" Sam had been arguing, "he may be having a break down."
Natasha had just shaken her head in exasperation before explaining.
"He isn't worried about being attacked, doesn't feel like he has to constantly be on his guard, be ready for whatever fucked up thing the world throws at him next, because he knows we have his back. You should feel honoured."
They weren't sure how she made that last part sound like a threat, but they definitely did feel honoured, humbled that Clint felt that way. They hadn't even noticed how tensely Clint had held himself, until they saw him relaxed and happy in his baggy hulk sweater. Sure, he was always smiling and joking around but this was different.
It was their regular movie night, and everyone was crowded around the communal lounge snacks in hand when Clint walked in wearing, the epitome of comfort, red plaid pyjamas. They looked well worn and like all of his comfortable clothes hung off him. Everyone froze, sure they had gotten used to all the adorable outfits Clint had been wearing, but this was something else.
"I must've missed the memo about a pyjama party" Tony joked, and Clint looked down as though realising what he was wearing for the first time. He looked back up, eyes seeking Natasha's and looking unsure.
Bruce felt a small growl bubble up through his chest, causing those in his near vicinity to swing around and look at him in alarm. His brow was furrowed, and the skin of his neck held a tint of green. How dare Tony make Clint feel self-conscious? He took a deep breath to try to calm himself as everyone started edging away from him.
"I can go and change?" Clint asked uncertainly.
"No" Bruce said, his voice louder and more commanding than anyone had ever heard it when he wasn't Hulking out. He cleared his throat and gentled his tone. "Don't go change, Tony's just jealous he doesn't look that good in plaid."
Tony muttered quietly "well, he's not wrong."
Clint's whole face lit up and he laughed, oblivious to how everyone had moved away from Bruce he went and sat right beside him, giving him a bright smile as he grabbed a handful of popcorn from the closest bowl.
"So, what are we watching?" he asked as he curled his legs around himself and leant more into Bruce's side.
"Robin Hood" Steve answered with a slight smile.
"Yes!" Clint crowed. "That's one of my favourites. When I first started learning archery in the circus, I used to always pretend I was Robin Hood."
Everyone kept their face casually neutral. While most knew some things from Clint's past due to overall snooping, this was the first time he'd ever shared anything himself.
Natasha smiled softly at her best friend, who sat happily munching popcorn, oblivious to the fact that he had just shared something about his past with the room. Thankfully everyone was smart enough not to mention anything, settling down and getting comfortable as the opening credits began to roll.
Bruce was only half watching the movie though, completely distracted by the man sitting next to him.
Clint wander through the Tower, feeling restless and uneasy, his brain refusing to turn off. It had probably been a mistake drinking that cup of coffee right before bed. Now hours later, he still couldn't settle. He'd given up on sleep and headed to the range but even that had failed to completely calm him. So here he was, wandering the halls like some vengeful spirit, while everyone else was in bed sleeping. Well… maybe not everyone. His face brightened and his steps quickened as a new idea took hold. Tony and Bruce were quite often up at all hours of the night working in their labs. Maybe he could go and visit, help out with something. Might as well make himself useful seeing as how he couldn't sleep.
He was closest to Tony's lab, so headed there first. Unfortunately, the door was locked and lights off, so he assumed that Tony wasn't working late tonight. He peered through the glass but could see nothing. With a sigh he turned and headed for Bruce's lab instead. The door was unlocked but most of the lights were off. Clint knocked quietly before making his way inside. Looking around to see if Bruce was working anywhere. Sadly, there was no sign of the other man, though something told Clint that he hadn't been gone long. The archer spotted a couch with a pillow and blanket laid out on it. Both were crumpled and when Clint drew closer and ran his hand over the fabric, he wasn't surprised to find it warm. He'd only just missed Bruce!
Perhaps the genius wasn't planning on being gone long, seeing as how he'd left lights on, and the room unlocked. Clint settled down on the couch to wait, letting the warmth and scent of Bruce relax him like nothing else that evening had. He stretched out, burying his face in Bruce's pillow, breathing in deeply as his eyelids began to grow heavy.
Bruce checked his watch as he wandered back to his lab. It was 3am. He ran his hands over his face wearily. He'd woken an hour ago from an uneasy sleep on the couch in his lab. His back hurting and his mouth tasting like he'd been licking a garbage bin. He'd hauled himself up and gone back to his room to shower and change (and scrub his teeth) before going back to his lab to work for a few more hours. It wasn't usual for him to spend all the night in his lab, though he had been trying to make an effort to return to his rooms a few times a week.
His pushed the door to his lab open, taking a moment to register that the other guy was vibrating restlessly in the back of his mind. Bruce looked around for any threat as he made his way through. He hadn't even locked the door, so sure that no one would enter while he was gone. It wasn't until he reached the far side of his lab that he found what had the other guy so excited.
Clint. The archer was curled up on his couch, face pressed into the worn pillow, sound asleep. Soft little snores echoing through the lab. Bruce was surprised he could even get so close without the other waking. What was Clint doing here? Had something upset the other man? A wave of fierce protectiveness roared through him, the Hulk answering in kind. For once not trying to break free, but in complete agreement with Bruce's thoughts. It was an odd sensation. Deciding there was no way in hell he was going to disturb the other man when he was getting what looked like some much-needed sleep, he moved over to his latest experiment and got to work. He kept the lights dim, keeping half an eye on the sleeping archer and making sure he was safe as he worked.
It was hours before Clint started to stir, snores petering out to soft snuffles, and groans as Clint shifted and stretched on the too small couch. Bruce stopped what he was doing to watch the other man for a moment. Smiling when blue eyes blinked open at him.
"Bruce?" Clint asked in confusion.
"Yeah" Bruce smiled.
Clint looked around, taking in his surroundings.
"Oh shit, sorry I fell asleep here, man. I came looking for you when I couldn't sleep last night. Must've fallen asleep on your couch while I was waiting for you."
Bruce just shrugged, eyes twinkling as he took in Clints sleep mussed hair. "You're welcome here any time, Clint."
The archer looked momentarily surprised.
"Really? I won't be in the way or anything?"
"Not at all" Bruce said sincerely, trying with all his might to convey just how much he wanted Clint in his space, smelling of him. Something must've shown in his face because Clint laid back down and stretched out on the couch, turning his head so he could watch Bruce from where he was reclining. And that's where he stayed, watching Bruce thoughtfully, until both their stomachs started to grumble and a break for breakfast was declared.
They could hear raised voices before they'd even entered the communal kitchen. Rounding the corner to find the rest of the team scattered around the room and Bucky and Steve in the middle of an argument. Both were red in the face, eyes narrowed, and voices raised. Sam, Natasha and Tony stood back watching everything unfold.
Clint wasn't good with arguments, not between family. Sure, he could take down any number of enemies in a fight, but it was different when it was happening in your home, with people you cared about. Logically he knew it wasn't a big deal, Steve and Bucky fought all the time, that's how they showed their love or some shit. But he couldn't stop that sick feeling in his gut, the way his heart raced. Ugh childhood trauma.
"Aww, fighting no" Clint muttered, not even aware he was talking.
Without even meaning to he edged back around the kitchen bench to Bruce, subtlely putting the other man in-between himself and the arguing super soldiers.
Bruce felt the warmth beside him and was unsurprised to find Clint standing there. The man looked like he was trying to use Bruce as a human shield as he watched the argument with wide eyes. If he hadn't been so in tune with Clint lately and the one that he was currently hiding behind, he probably wouldn't have even noticed. As it was the slightly panicked look, and the accelerated breathing were all too clear. And those protective urges that had roared through him earlier were suddenly back full force. Whether the other man realised what he was doing or not, Clint trusted him to protect him, no one had ever done that before. He was usually treated with caution and respect, people afraid that the Hulk would make an appearance, but not Clint. Without even thinking about it, Bruce wrapped his arm around Clint's waist and pulled him into his side, thrumming with contentment as Clint all but melted into him. Face tucked into his neck as Bruce ran a soothing hand down the others back. Paying attention as Clints breathing evened out again, becoming calm and steady.
He glanced up when he noticed that the room had gone strangely quiet, it was particularly noticeable after all the yelling. Bruce found everyone staring at them, some in surprise, some in poorly concealed glee.
"I knew it!" Tony cried, causing Clint to flinch away from Bruce. Bruce didn't let him go far though, pulling him back in with a gentle touch, even as Clint surveyed the room.
"Shut it Tony" Natasha said, in a voice that brooked no argument as she handed Clint a cup of coffee.
Pink dusted Clints cheeks, but he didn't say anything or try to move away from Bruce.
Bucky and Steve shared a look.
"Ah. Sorry about the arguing" Bucky said unsurely. "Steve can be a real punk, but that's no reason for us to be carrying on that way."
"S'ok" Clint mumbled, taking another sip of his coffee and leaning more into Bruce's warmth.
Bucky looked hesitant but nodded anyway.
Clint turning up to spend time in his lab, became as common as Clint wearing his super comphy clothes around the Tower. He would bring Bruce food and then get cosy on the couch, reading a book or doing maintenance on his bow, sometimes just wrapping himself in Bruce's blankets while taking a nap, all while Bruce worked nearby. It was peaceful and Bruce came to feel like something was missing if Clint wasn't there is his lab. Which was ridiculous as he had worked alone for years without any problem.
He should have been expecting that the Hulk would want Clint as much as he himself did. The other guy was most quiet when Clint was nearby. So, when a call came through of an Avengers level threat, all hands on deck situation Bruce should have been expecting that the Hulk would want to stick close to Hawkeye.
"Look I don't know what to tell you, Cap!" Clint shouted through his comm. "He's sticking close to me today."
"Gee, I wonder why" was Steve's sarcastic response. "Fine see if you can work together on this one."
"Sure thing" Hawkeye responded with a grin, taking a running leap off the building he was on and landing on Hulk's shoulders. The big green guy had refused to leave his location, attacking any doom bots that got close.
"Come on big guy" Hawkeye said with a laugh, pointing down the street where most of the fighting was taking place. "Let's go!"
With Hawkeye perched on his shoulder the Hulk was much more inclined to join in the fight, running down the street with a bellow while Hawkeye fired arrows at every enemy he could spot. With Clint with him the Hulk seem much less inclined to go around destroying the surrounding buildings as well, aiming all his fury at anyone who came close to them. They worked well together.
After the fight was finished and most of the bots destroyed, Hulk transformed back into Bruce. Clint was right by his side.
Tony had teased them relentlessly as they made their way back to avenger's tower about Hulk's inability to leave Clints side. Bruce just nodded, not raising to the bait, it made perfect sense to him.
Normally Bruce would retreat to his own rooms to shower and rest, the transformation always took a lot out of him. This time however, Clint insisted on coming with him.
"I just want to make sure you're OK. It was a big fight." Clint had stated and quite frankly who was Bruce to argue.
They walked into Bruce's seldom used rooms, and he could be nothing but thankful that he kept them immaculate.
"I'm just gonna go shower" Bruce said awkwardly, his whole body shaking from exhaustion.
"Sure thing" Clint said with a smile. "I'll make some tea."
Bruce smiled softly. "Tea sounds great" he murmured as he walked gingerly out of the room.
When Bruce returned a short time later, it was to find Clint sitting on the couch, TV on, a soft blanket laid out, with tea and sandwiches sitting ready on the table. Bruce sunk down next to him with a relieved sigh.
"I wasn't sure what you usually did, but, ah, I thought maybe a bit of food might do you some good?" Clint said unsurely.
Bruce just nodded encouragingly.
"I'm starving" he confirmed and Clints smile brightened.
"Great, well I made all your favourites, and the tea should still be hot."
Bruce nodded, taking a sip of his perfectly made tea and taking a sandwich as Clint turned on the TV to some mindless show that took no brain power to watch. They didn't talk, simply letting the others presence be a comfort. It was perfect. When Bruce finally fell asleep, head dropping back and body listing to the side, Clint picked him up and carried him to bed. Tucking him in gently with a fond look before retreating to his own room to shower, change and get some sleep.
Unfortunately, sleep didn't come easy that night. He had managed to drift off, only to be woken hours later by a nightmare. He sat bolt upright in bed, breath heaving as he tried to ground himself in the present. It wasn't working though, his thoughts scattered, panicked.
He climbed out of bed, slipping his aids back in and flipped open the closest vent, pulling himself up and moving as fast as possible to Bruce's room. He needed to see the other man, make sure he was safe. His heart pounded the whole way. He dropped through a vent into the others room without making a sound and approached the dark lump in the bed.
Even just seeing Bruce was helping calm him. He lifted a shaky hand and ran it through his sweaty locks sitting gingerly on the bed to better observe the other man. Bruce sat up like a shot, eyes swinging wildly around to find what had disturbed him, the quick movement nearly causing Clint to topple off the bed. Clint was seriously concerned big green would make an appearance, so he scooted closer.
"Bruce, it's just me" Clint said quietly, giving the other man a moment to focus sleep addled eyes on him.
"Clint?" Bruce asked quietly as he flopped back down on his pillow. "What are you doing up? Come back to bed."
Clint froze. What?
Bruce didn't seem to think he'd said anything strange, and it was then that Clint remembered that Bruce had fallen asleep with Clint earlier in the evening. The scientist, in his sleep confused state must've thought they'd gone to bed together.
Before Clint could begin to explain, surprisingly strong arms grabbed Clint and pulled him under the blankets. Bracketing him against a warm, firm chest. Clint could have gotten away if he really wanted to, but, well he didn't really want to. He breathed out a sigh of relief, the last vestiges of his nightmare scattering to the wind, as he let Bruce comfort him.
When Bruce awoke the next morning, he was as warm and comfortable as he had ever been. It took him a moment to realise that there was someone in his bed with him. A firm body, pressed against his own, long legs tangled and hot breath brushing over his neck. Clint, his brain supplied. He had come to him during the night… had stayed the night? He couldn't quite remember the details, just that Clint was here in his bed, in his arms. His arms tightened, pulling the archer impossibly close, feeling the thick length that pushed against his stomach at the movement.
Bruce stilled. Oh god. Clint was hard. He tried to move back a little, to give the other some space, even though what he really wanted to do was reach down and wrap his fingers around the hard cock. But Clint was asleep, not even aware what was going on, so nope, nope, nope. Of course, even sleeping Clint was contrary to all plans, instead moving closer again and pushing himself against Bruce with a soft groan.
Bruce shuddered, the hulk making himself very known.
Clint kept moving against him, his breath starting to come in pants, but Bruce kept his hands firmly at his sides, resisting all urges to reach out and touch.
"That's it baby, take what you need" he whispered into Clint's ear, ignoring his own throbbing cock for the pleasure of watching Clint.
The movements stilled and Bruce could see the exact moment that awareness returned to Clint. Slowly blue eyes blinked open, more aware than Bruce had ever seen them this early in the morning.
It took Clint a moment to assess the situation, horror dawning in his eyes.
"Oh, shit Bruce! I'm so sorry!" Clint gasped out, trying to move away, but Bruce didn't let him go.
"Shh. You're OK, if I had a problem with it, I would've stopped you" Bruce said soothingly, looking nothing but sincere as clint stared at him, judging the honesty of the statement.
"Yeah?" Clint said with a small smirk, rutting up against Bruce again.
Bruce let out a small groan of his own. "You're so beautiful baby" Bruce whispered, reaching down to cup Clint's arse and pull him closer, both men moaning at the contact.
Clint shifted and Bruce nearly choked on his tongue as he realised the other man had pulled down his own pants. Hesitantly and with an encouraging nod from Clint, Bruce reached back down to grope Clint's now bare arse. It was glorious. The stuff dreams are made of. He gently parted the cheeks letting his fingers trailed down until they reached his puckered entrance, where he began to rub gently.
"Oh fuck, Bruce" Clint cried out, pushing back on the digits as much as he could.
Bruce couldn't help himself anymore, his self-control slipping as he lunged forward, knocking Clint onto his back and sealing their mouths together in a heated kiss. Tongues dancing against each other for the very first time.
His skin wavered to green, and Clint looked up at him in concern.
"You, OK?" He asked quietly.
Bruce just nodded. "I'm fine. The other guy, he's not trying to take over, just wants to see you."
Clint nodded in understanding, a small blush climbing up his neck.
Bruce hesitated for a moment.
"Is that OK?"
Clint rushed to reassure. "Of course, handsome. You know I love all of you."
Bruce's eyes widened at the sincerity in those words.
"I love you too" he whispered, burying his face in Clints neck as emotions overtook him.
Clint just waited patiently, chest warm as he rubbed his back in comfort, whispering all the things he loved about Bruce into the others ear.
When Bruce resurfaced Clint pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, reaching up to wipe away the tears on his cheeks.
Bruce leaned down to deepen the kiss, and Clint's erection, that had started to flag a little sprung back to life immediately.
Clint broke the kiss, reaching down to remove first his shirt and then Bruce's. Letting his hands wander over the broad back, feeling the muscles move and tense beneath his hands as Bruce started to rock against him again. He reached a little bit further down and gripped the waistband of Bruce's pants, pulling them down just far enough to let Bruce's cock spring free. He spread his legs, letting Bruce settle between them as the dark-haired man reached down and took him in hand. Giving him a few firm tugs before running a thumb over the slick tip.
"So wet for me, baby" Bruce breathed in awe and Clint could do nothing but push up further into Bruce's hand chasing his pleasure.
"Need you" Clint groaned, and Bruce nearly came on the spot at that declaration.
"I've got you" Bruce said, kissing down Clint's jaw, biting and sucking marks as he reached the pale expanse of Clint's neck. Marks blooming up everywhere he touched. The possessive side of Bruce, that sounded an awful lot like the Hulk, roared in approval, happy that everyone would be able to see his claim on the other man.
Bruce released him for a moment, drawing his own cock together with Clints and taking them both in hand. He started slowly, letting the pre cum slick the way as they moved together, kissing and nipping at each other's lips as their pleasure built. It didn't take long before Clint was shuddering as his orgasm washed through him, cum splattering all over his chest.
"Fuck, fuck Clint" Bruce gasped as his own orgasm tore through him, his body shaking from the intensity. He collapsed to the side, gasping for breath as he tried to come to his senses. He glanced over at Clint to find him much in the same way.
"I think we should stay in bed for the day" Clint said, looking over with a grin, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Bruce could do nothing but nod.