#clintbruce

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

Clint Barton was professionally known as Hawkeye. He never missed a shot, saved the city multiple times, and even had a small little base of fans. 

In high school, it was a different story. He tripped all over the place, couldn’t focus in English class, and only had one friend, Natasha Romanoff. Nat was scary, could probably kill a man and get away with it even if the odds were stacked against her, and was the best person to have as a friend. 

This morning was rough. He’d had to put more band-aids on the new calluses on his hands. Stupid new bow. Lucky also got too excited for breakfast and tripped on the floor and then made Clint trip and fall by default, which means that Clint has a nasty bruise on his knee and his arm is stiff. 

“Why do you always have the worst luck? Who hurt you?” Natasha asks. She’s currently tearing down another “Aldrich Killian for Student President” poster, tearing it into tiny pieces as she waits for Clint to search for his English textbook and try to balance his coffee. 

“Ask God, I’m sure I did something to piss her off,” Clint groans. “I think I’m honestly going to die because of my own self. I think it’s just that. And I had a run-in last night with some of the downtown dudes. Bad news.” 

“Nah. If you die it’s probably gonna be from Lucky. And you won’t even care because of how much you love that dumb dog.” Nat doesn’t mention anything about the downtown incident, because she’s not stupid and she will take him to the range that night and help him with combat. 

“He’s cute and he likes cuddles, what’s not to love?” Clint asks, slamming his locker shut. “Let’s get to class.” 

He doesn’t really like English all that much. Words don’t make a lot of sense unless Natasha explains it in a way or he can find the movie version of it that doesn’t completely suck. 

But he goes to English because of one person, and that person’s name is Bruce Banner. Bruce is a science nerd who has a very nice voice and is also exactly Clint’s type. Sweet, nerdy, and he has very nice arms. Clint stares too much at those arms. 

He wishes that he could be more like his alter-ego. Hawkeye would walk right up to Bruce, ask him out for ice cream, and sweep him off his feet. 

What he gets is tripping over his own loose shoelace because Bruce got new glasses and they look very nice. 

The class explodes into laughter as Clint slinks to his seat, frowning. He wishes the world would swallow him up. 

“I wanna die,” he mutters. 

“Not yet, we have a dinner appointment at seven,” Natasha says. “You promised to  let me choose a semi-healthy option.” 

“If I have to eat celery I will arrest you.” 

“You can’t arrest me for that, it’s not a felony.” 

“Celery sucks, I’d say it’s a felony,” comes a voice. Clint recognizes that voice. 

It’s Bruce Banner, who’s smiling. 

“Sorry you fell, Clint. Always sucks.” 

“Thanks dude, I appreciate it.” 

That’s the first interaction. Clint smiles at Bruce from across the room before it fades as the teacher assigns a new essay based on Lady Macbeth. 

“I hate this class,” Natasha mutters, looking at the directions. 

“No you don’t, you enjoy breaking the teacher’s spirit,” Clint says. “And if you keep it up, she might be broken enough to stop adding to the final.” Natasha shrugs, admitting it; there was a certain pride in getting shitty teachers to finally back down. 

It surprises when Bruce starts waving to him in the hallway, smiling as they walk into school. 

Clint gets bold and starts striking up casual conversation. Just about which classes are up next, what he brought for lunch. 

Bruce sits next to Clint and Nat in English, laughing about the books and some post they saw on an app. 

“Wait, so you’re telling me Clint will eat anything?” Bruce asks, eyes wide. 

“If you pay for it, then yeah,” Clint says with a shrug. “I don’t turn down food.” 

“You wanna go to the shittiest pizza joint you will ever go to?” 

“I guarantee you it’s gonna be my favorite place in the world,” Clint says. “Shitty pizza is kinda my specialty.” 

As it turns out, he hasn’t been there before. It’s in a small corner, surrounded by abandoned buildings, and even Clint can point out the violations from outside. 

Bruce laughs as Clint looks at the pepperoni they ordered. It looks fine. He just can’t tell if it’ll be good. 

“It’s not about being good, it’s about the experiences,” Bruce says. “Such as maybe getting a mild case of food poisoning.” He then proceeds to take three slices for himself, eats one in quick time, and reaches for the other. 

Clint gets to know Bruce a lot better. Bruce is a nervous guy, likes the way records sound, and his favorite movie is The Sound of Music. They watch it in Bruce’s basement while munching on popcorn and sipping on fruit juice, because Bruce’s mom hates soda. 

“Make yourself at home, Clint,” Mrs. Banner says. 

“Thanks Mrs. Banner.” 

“Please, call me Rebecca.” 

“Okay Mrs. Banner.” 

She laughs at that, tells Bruce she likes his new friend, and they go down to the basement and sit on a couch that is honestly way too comfy to be the basement couch. 

They sit close. Clint notices how nicely TV light defines Bruce’s nose. He then turns to the popcorn and reaches for a few pieces. 

Both their phones buzz with a message saying to stay inside. 

“Another villain,” Clint says weakly. He doesn’t want to leave this, it’s so nice. “I hate it when this happens. My mom wants me home.” 

“It was nice hanging out, but yeah. My mom would want your mom to have you home safe.” 

If they both weren’t so focused, they’d notice that the other is a very shit liar. 

But they didn’t. 

Because Hawkeye runs out to the fray about fifteen minutes later, out of breath and a one-liner about the subway being out of commission due to connectivity problems. 

And then, there’s Hulk. Hulk is cool. he’s a nice guy. Roars a lot, but Clint likes him. 

“What’s the problem?” Hulk asks, voice rumbly and deep. “Skipped out on a date for this, it better be good.” 

“Me too buddy,” Clint says darkly. “But I guess we’re just trying to destroy the robots. I hope Iron Man is back in town.” 

Hulk gives Clint the strangest look, but shakes his head and leaps to a the villain’s minions, smashing the tech to little pieces. Clint counts out his arrows, frowning as he realizes he left four of them at home. 

“Aw man,” he groans, checking the bow. “I’m gonna have to be careful.” He still hasn’t talked to Iron Man about the possibility of homing technology on his arrows. Maybe it would be too complicated, but it’s worth a shot. 

Clint doesn’t really talk to many people other than helping the families get the hell out of the way and one memorable moment from Hulk, who scoops him up in his arms to avoid a car being thrown his direction. 

“Thanks Jadey,” Clint says. “I have an algebra test that I need to study for.” 

“Can’t let you die,” Hulk responds gruffly. “You’re funny.” 

“You say the nicest things.” 

Clint books it after the villain is defeated; no sense in his mom actually getting worried about him being gone. (Not that she usually notices, but still. Natasha might be over.) 

School the next day was rough. Clint had to cover a bruise on his arm (ow) and even worse, endure Natasha’s teasing. 

“You went to your crush’s house. To watch his favorite movie. I think that sounds like you looovvvveee him.” 

“You literally are quite honestly the worst person in the world, Natasha. I should really feed you to the pigeons.” 

“Their best meal yet.” 

Bruce looks really tired in class. He barely talks, eyes are glassy, but he still smiles at Clint. 

“I was wondering if I could tell you something after class at lunch,” Bruce says. “Meet me in the courtyard.” 

“Uh, sure? What’s it about.” 

“You’ll find out.” 

No one likes to hear that they’ll hear something later. It’s usually bad. So Clint worries about it for all of his classes, messes up his math quiz entirely, and tries not to look so nervous come lunchtime. 

He goes to the courtyard. They’ve planted nicer flowers this year, probably thanks to the botanical club. Bruce is sitting on a wooden bench, lunch spread out before him. He has celery and peanut butter. 

“Hey,” Bruce says, smiling. 

“Did I do something bad?” Clint blurts out. “Because if I did, I’m really sorry. Sometimes I say things that are just terrible all the time because my filter only works about twenty percent of the time, and--” 

“Nah,” Bruce says. “Just wanted to tell you something.” 

“What?” Clint asks. 

“I know you’re Hawkeye.” 

Clint drops his lunchbox, and then sits down. 

“Please don’t tell the school.” 

“I’m not going to. But I need to tell you something. It’s a secret. Nat can know, but no one else.” 

“You got it,” Clint says. Bruce breathes deeply, closing his eyes. 

“You know the green monster?” 

“Um, you mean the Hulk?” Clint asks. “I wouldn’t really consider him a monster, he’s considerate about hotdog carts.” 

Bruce blinks and then giggles a little bit. 

“I’m him.” 

Clint blinks. 

“I can see it. You have the same kinda nose. His is just bigger.” Bruce snorts, laughing. He takes a bite of the celery. 

“And here I thought when I asked you out I’d have a hard time explaining that I was considered a superhero.” 

Clint grins, moving closer and kissing Bruce.