#bruceclint

been thinking about an age of ultron rewrite au where clint n natasha kinda trade places. CLEARLY. IM THINKING MORE ABOUT THE CLINTBRUCE DYNAMIC MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE but if i actually took the time to think about it more im sure i could figure out smething fun for natasha too <3

“It’s beautiful, like standing inside a snowglobe,” Clint said, staring up into the falling snow.

“The thing about snowglobes, though,” Bruce said, pulling his coat more closely around himself, “is that you have to keep shaking them up.”

“I was never going to live a life of gathering dust,” Clint said with a shrug, and put his arm around Bruce’s shoulders. “Might as well enjoy the parts I can.”

jal;aksdjfa;lsdkfjals;dkfjasd;lkfjasdf;lkasjdf oh my god

A) Hulk doing nice things for Banner is the CUTEST

B) Bruce thinking he has to ask COULSON for permission is some gourmet shit

[*whispers* you monster]

It starts like an itch he couldn’t scratch. Subtle. The niggling feeling that you left the light on at your home you can never go back to.

“So where did you go?” Bruce asks him.

“Go?”

Bruce smiles like the sun. “After Loki. We didn’t see you for a long time.”

Clint realizes he’s not sure. He grins. “A spy can’t reveal all his secrets.”

He’s holding a child who looks like him. “Where did you come from?

Cooper laughs. “Silly daddy. I came from you and mommy.” 

That sounds right, Clint thinks.

His house isn’t the right shape.

It’s meant to be smaller. One long hallway. Only one floor. Just a living room and old electronics. He’s sure it’s supposed to be higher up. Didn’t he live in an apartment before? 

And he’s sure there was a dog.

No, no. That isn’t right. This is his home. He just needs to put in new flooring.

Laura holds him close and brushes her lips against his neck, cold as ice. “I love you,” she says.

“I love you, too,” he says.

She smiles like melting glass.

Avengers tower doesn’t feel like home, which is a good thing. It doesn’t fit him like a second skin tailor made. 

He drinks coffee in the lounge. Bruce is there.

“Are you all right?” Bruce asks, frowning behind his glasses.

“Fine.” Clint smirks. It’s what he’s good at. 

Bruce looks doubtful. “If you need to talk,” he says. “I’m here.”

Clint doesn’t talk.

And there was a girl. He’s so sure. She’s there on the edge of his mind. Purple and a sneering smile and long black hair and where is she?

Lila takes his hand. Her fingers are moist. “You promised to come to my dance recital,” she says.

Clint doesn’t remember that. “Of course,” he says. “Anything for my little girl.”

At the recital Clint wonders why he can hear the music.

“Hey.” Bruce rests his fingers on Clint’s arm and his eyes are worried, deep and brown. “You’re shaking.”

“F-fine,” Clint stutters. He thinks about the farm. Crop circles appeared last night. Strange circles and little lines. Laura said they were nothing. “Just jumpy.”

Bruce brushes his arm with his thumb. Soft. “I’ve got some stuff we could blow up in the lab. Want to come?”

Clint does.

He catches himself staring at Bruce’s lips and wondering why Laura’s aren’t like that. But no, he and Laura fit together perfectly. Like they’re made to be.

He looks up and sees Natasha watching him.

“Our baby,” Clint says, reverent. He rests his hand on Laura’s stomach.

“Our miracle,” Laura corrects. It’s an odd thing to say. No. It’s the right thing to say.

“Of course,” Clint agrees. “Our miracle.”

The baby kicks.

When he sleeps it is cold, like Laura’s hands on his body. Ice in his heart. Crying snowflakes.

Thor tells them of his good friend Erik Selvig. Bruce looks excited; he knows him, he says.

Clint has to excuse himself. He crumples the napkin he was drawing on into his pocket.

It’s filled with little lines and circles.

When he sees Natasha lean across the bar and turn her flirting up to eleven, he thinks no and yes at the same time.

That’s supposed to be him making Bruce fluster.

But he’s not supposed to think those things. He’s got a loving wife. Two kids. A miracle on the way.