#deaf!clint

And Bruce had stripped the dark past experiences off like an old skin and was now wearing a new one. He seemed to be the most stable among them all. With a big emphasis on „seemed to be“. Just like Steve, he was only suppressing what he couldn’t deal with.

Steve didn’t know who he was most worried about. Steve didn’t know what he was most happy about. The mixture of good and bad had been a part of his life ever since he could remember. Seeing his friends, his family back together was filling him with a peace he hadn’t felt in all those long, painful five years. Seeing them all suffer was almost worse than not having them around at all.

He was walking out of the room with all their notes, plans, ideas and thoughts scribbled on white boards, loose sheets of paper and computers. Plans to change what Thanos had done.

This room with all its planned risks and dangers made him feel sick.

He walked into the big hall with the time-machine-in-process, as Tony and Bruce called it, and the old training ring at the back. This ring had been supposed to be used for demonstrations and sparring matches. All for the training of the new generation of agents and special units. Units like the Avengers had been. Or still were.

Steve could still hear Clint’s playful threats from all those years back…

„I’ll whoop your ass in front of the newbies, old guy!“

He could still see those blue eyes glow up, as they used to crinkle with smiles and laughter, could still remember the way Clint had always been incessantly annoying, constantly teasing him and provoking him to get a reaction. The way he used to be.

Those five years had changed him the most in Steve’s reception. He was more grown up than he’d ever been, all his antics stripped of him violently, leaving holes and wounds and despair. A notion that used to be the last possible one coming to mind when he’d thought of his friend back then. The only times Clint had been desperate in the time before the snap were mornings without coffee.

„Kill me, Steve, there is no coffee in the Tower.“

He’d had his thoughtful moments, sure, and he had been far from being okay - past trauma tugging on his heels like shackles he had never found a key for. But all he’d really needed back then to get him into good spirits again were a sparring partner and positive feedback. He’d always seeked Steve’s respect and he’d always had it.

But Steve knew he’d taken something essential away from him when he’d not let him tag along into space, back when they’d planned to force Thanos to undo the snap. Tony and Clint had only just returned from draining days lost in a space ship in the middle of nowhere. And Clint’s ears had been punctured fatally with his own arrows by Thanos’ hand not long before that. The bandage around his head had been soaked with blood, small trickles running down his cheeks when Steve had put a hand on his chest to stop him, to convey to him wordlessly that he wasn’t coming.

Something in his posture had changed then. He’d shrinked, almost without notice. The already dimmed blue of his eyes had changed to grey - and no smiles had crinkled them ever since. Steve had pushed their foreheads together to try and somehow make him feel how sorry he’d been - how sorry about god damn everything.

But upon returning to the Avengers building, defeated and hopeless, Clint had been gone, with his Hawkeye gear still there. And he’d remained gone until they’d cornered him all together in an alley of the shabby New York a few days before. Clint in his Ronin suit, with his swords and his dark hood. A silent fighter, a dark Avenger, a sword fighter who didn’t kill.

Steve, Tony, Bruce and Thor had circled him, trying to reason with calming gestures and instinctively spoken words the former archer hadn’t been able to hear. He’d fought them all stubbornly until Natasha had appeared in front of him. Stopping in his tracks, frozen to the spot, he’d raised his sword and didn’t bring it down. The battle had come to a halt.

Gently Natasha had stripped him of his mask, revealing his grey eyes and grim expression.

She’d signed something to him, Steve hadn’t seen. But it had been enough to get Clint to drop his swords and fall into her, to let go of his fight and allow her to embrace him again.

Steve could still feel a profound need to take Clint into his arms as well. But with the exception of Natasha he hadn’t let anyone get awfully close ever since his return to them.

He’d been surprised to find out that all of them had learned to sign. They’d been surprised to find out how good of a lip reader he’d gotten. He’d shrugged and pointed to the TV, suggesting that he’d learned by watching it on unchosen mute.

A long story. A long path that had led from their early days as Avengers to now. Ten years.

Steve found it hard to believe that Clint was about to be 33 years old. The snotty circus kid from all those years back had changed.

Yet, as Steve was nearing the training ring, Clint was standing inside of it, like he sometimes had in the time after the Tower. Like he hadn’t moved out of it ever since those days that now seemed so long ago. He used to crack his knuckles and call Steve old until he’d provoked him enough to have him enter the training ring as well.

Steve smiled at the memory, but quickly turned more serious again when he saw Clint stare at the floor with hanging shoulders. A sadness surrounded him. A sadness Steve recognized. He knew what it felt like when you couldn’t get something back again. Or when it would simply never be the same again.

Carefully Steve lifted the chain that surrounded the sparring mat and entered the ring.

Clint’s eyes were on him immediately. Steve looked at it as a success that Clint didn’t avoid his glance. No, he even returned it, untying a knot in Steve’s chest.

He stood there, motionless and just looked at his old friend, looked at him with an emotion that lay beyond his control. He could see far beyond the present, far beyond the Clint that stood in front of him now.

He could see his bashful annoyance when the others had presented him a cake on his birthday. He could see his fierce expression, when he’d jumped in front of his friends, arrows firing in battle. He could see him sobbing uncontrollably after the message of his brother and Kate Bishop having fallen victim to the snap had reached him. He could see him laughing and screaming helplessly when Steve had taken it upon himself to silence his provoking remarks by sitting down on top of him and ravaging him with tickles until he’d cried tears of laughter.

Steve saw all of their shared memories, all of their patched up wounds and those that never heal, saw who they grew to be together and who they’d always stay and he knew that Clint saw the same when he looked at him. He felt a lump form in his throat and swallowed hard, but his eyes started to burn as well and there was this picture of Clint running ahead of him and trying to catch the shield when Steve threw it with this big smile on his face that Steve just couldn’t shake off.

He moved his hands almost instinctively and signed the symbol for „brother“ with his hands, making Clint’s eyes grow bigger and younger all of a sudden. The former archer pressed his lips together and put his fist on his chest, moving it in a small circle.

Sorry.

Then he pointed at himself, at his chin and eventually at Steve.

I disappointed you.

Steve started shaking his head slowly, biting the inside of his cheek, shaking his head more decidedly by the second. Pain expanded on Clint’s face, despite him trying to suppress it. He squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head.

So Steve closed the distance between them and put a hand on his neck, pulling his head to his chest, close to his heart. Clint made no noise as his forehead, his cheek made contact with Steve’s broad chest. He merely closed his arms around Steve’s body and held on to his back as if his life depended upon it. Steve’s warm breath ran down his scalp as the Supersoldier buried his nose in Clint’s hair.

And all of a sudden it felt as if they’d lifted a curse, as if they’d broken a magical spell with the warmth of their embrace. As if Clint’s soul finally managed to reconnect with his body and all the weight he’d carried on his own back fell to the floor with a loud thud. He nestled his head at Steve’s chest and smelled the familiar scent of mint and shower gel, reviving within him the feeling of home and safety he’d longed for a long time.

And Steve did not let go.

He had always been strong enough to drag Clint along. Except for that one time when Clint hadn’t been strong enough for being dragged along.

But there he was again.

There he was.

Close to his chest. Remaining. Despite it all, he was still Clint. Which he proved within seconds of their hug by suddenly wiggling his fingertips into Steve’s ribs, forcing him to push away with a surprised gasp and an expression of wonder on his face.

Clint’s sly smirk wiped away any doubts Steve still had held about Clint’s state of mind.

With a roll of his eyes a smirk of his own spread on Steve’s face and he raised his fists invitingly, asking for a long overdue sparring match between the two of them.

Clint shook his arms out and grinned even wider than before. He attacked with precise jabs towards Steve’s torso, but got blocked both times. Still he managed to avoid getting grabbed by Steve in return. Their sparring was a mixture of elegance and force. Accompanied by the occasional bruise.

It felt good to throw punches at each other again, to kick and defend and to try and find an opening. Like they were being active again after a long sleep. Though Steve had to admit that his sleep had lasted way longer than Clint’s. Which was one way to explain the kicks and jabs he did not manage to defend himself against. Or why he eventually just tackled Clint to the floor with his heavier and broader body and gave him a taste of his own medicine by tickling his sides until he was crying out defeat amidst his laughing and squealing.

As if something between them would never change.

The right one went in fine, and he suddenly could hear birds singing, a neighbor mowing his lawn, all the morning sounds he loved to take in over his coffee. He slipped the left one over his ear, though, and let out a brief yell.

The sound was screeching, too loud. He quickly ripped the hearing aid out and almost threw it across the room before remembering the damned things were expensive and replacing it to its case. He felt off-center, his mind reeling at not being able to hear properly. He started to panic, his breath speeding, his heart racing. Suddenly, he flinched at a touch behind him, before relaxing into its warmth. Laura.

He could understand she was trying to talk, but his right ear was significantly weaker than his left, and he couldn’t understand her specific words. He turned his torso and signed to her: “Hearing aids not working.” and she nodded sympathetically, quickly changing over to sign. “I was worried when I heard you yell. Thought it was another nightmare.” 

He took her face gently between his hands and kissed first her nose, then her lips. He was stressed and feeling antsy, but he could do it if she was here with him. “Audiologist?” he fingerspelled out, and Laura nodded, leaning her head against his shoulder and making the sign for “Together,” followed immediately by “Always.”

They went downstairs for their morning coffee and cuddled together on the couch, Laura watching the news and interpreting in little bursts for Clint if there was something said that wasn’t written out on screen. 

When he looked at her hands, clumsier than his, but still confident in her sign, he found more love than he’d ever imagined he could have. He leaned in in the middle of her signing to place his hand behind her neck and place a kiss to her lips, hungry but still chaste; you never knew when one of the kids might show up. 

When he pulled back, she raised her eyebrows at him in a question. He signed back “Just love you a lot.” with a goofy smile. She rolled her eyes at him but turned to lean against him, her coffee cup still in hand, thinking she was lucky her dopey husband hadn’t spilled any, but also that she was probably the luckiest woman in the world to have found him. 

The kids woke up in their usual Saturday morning order; Nate first for cartoons, then Lila, looking for breakfast, then finally Cooper, basically dragged out of bed by Laura. Most mornings, Clint helped with getting them ready to go, usually making breakfast and lunch since Laura made dinner. 

He headed off for the kitchen and found immediate problems. The tile floors bounced sound back at him in a very distracting way, and the sounds of the kids just being kids was giving him a monster headache. Leaving the eggs uncracked, he sat on the floor and ducked his head between his legs.

He tried to catch his breath, tried to center himself, but his entire world seemed to be askew. He dug his nails into his scalp and pulled his head lower and lower, his anxiety growing, the sounds only compounding. He wasn’t sure he could make it until the audiologist opened. And then he was thinking about the car ride there and tears started flowing down his cheeks. He covered his face with shaking hands and tried to get a grip before the kids walked in. 

Again, Laura came to his rescue. She hadn’t heard the normal sounds that came with cooking and had grown worried. She knelt before her husband and pulled gently on his hands, smiling at him supportively and signing “OK?” with raised eyebrows again. His own hands came up shaking so hard she could barely understand him. She had to sign “Again,” a few times before she got a clear response: “Sound hurt.” 

Laura tsked quietly and held her husband’s face gingerly, wiping away his tears and trying not to tear up herself. He was always so strong for her, for the kids, and now he needed her. She gently pulled Clint bit by bit from his tight curl and had him lay down, his head in her lap, and just patted his hair for a minute. She knew it calmed him to have his hair played with, and she wanted him a little more calm before they made any plans to leave the house. The audiologist was a stressful time for them both. 

When his tears stopped she tapped him on the shoulder twice and he immediately sat up, the two so in tune he knew what she wanted without her needing to sign. He took a few deep, calming breaths and stood up, reaching down to give Laura a hand up. She signed “Bedroom.” and he gave a questioning face, pointing to the carton of abandoned eggs on the counter, starting to sign “Breakfast,” but she covered her hands in his and again signed “Bedroom.” He sighed and rolled his eyes but obeyed.

He had to admit he felt better in the bedroom, surrounded by soft bedding and curtains. He sat on the edge of the bed and fiddled with his phone, but his mind was elsewhere, wondering how he was going to get through this. He felt the panic rising again and forced down the bitter mouthful. 

Laura came back and had one of her hands behind her back. “Kids eating” she signed loosely with the other hand, then she revealed what was hidden behind her back: a pair of shooting range ear protectors, bright orange and gaudy as all hell. He raised an eyebrow and she gave him a pleading look, so he took them in his hands and removed his right hearing aid, slipping them over his ears. 

The ringing remained, but it was dampened, all sound was. He couldn’t hear much of anything, and instead of overwhelming, it was like he was in a little bubble of peace. He smiled what felt like the first time since waking up and stood, walking over to Laura and wrapping his arms loosely around her, kissing her with love and passion intermingled in the way only true love can produce and signed one more thing before going down to finally, finally, have some time of peace - however short it was - with his kids: 

*BRING* *BRING*

You jolted up in your chair. You’re awake!!! Of course just as you were drifting, someone calls. Rubbing your eyes quickly, you made sure there was no drool on your chin and clicked the answer button on your mac. The screen pooped up with the image of a man, middle aged yet, still years younger than your usual customers. His grey eyes glanced over you and he gave you a quick smile and nod.

Hello, welcome to Video Relay. Please can you tell me the name and number you wish to connect to today.

You made sure to smile brightly. The man hesitated slightly before signing the number to you. You began to dial and asked him:

And the name?

A shrug was the only reply. You nodded, signing to him that the phone was ringing, waiting for the tone in your headset to end, lest it grant you a migraine.

“Hello, you’ve reached PhoneFuck. Which one of our sluts do you want?” A woman”s voice replaced the tone. You blinked shocked. Surely, the lack of sleep was affecting your brain?

“I beg your pardon?” was all you could say. The mans face stared at you, seemingly waiting for you to address him.

“This is PhoneFuck,” came the bored reply, “who do you want to speak to hun?” Did she mean you? Speak to someone? No, no nonononono. This has to be a mistake!

“Can I- can I just put you on hold for a second?” You pressed the hold button on the control panel and looked at the man. He had crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair as if bored.

I think this is a wrong number. You told him. This is an adult number. For adults.

He blinked at you, confused.

I’m an adult. He signed slowly as if you were the one who didn’t understand, which to be fair, you didn’t.

You nodded, quickly signing back.

Yes, I know but I think this number is for phone sex. You tried to explain it without your cheeks turning red, which was an unsuccessful feat. The man on the screen smirked again and raised two thumbs at the camera, not shifting his gaze from yours. Your eyes widened and so did his smirk.

“Hello,” the voice in your ears interrupted your stare off. “Who do you want to talk to?”

“Sorry,” you quickly apologised, “I am calling from Video Relay and-”

“I don’t care, sweetie.” The voice interrupted, smacking what seemed to be gum in her mouth. “Just tell me who you want to talk to and I’ll put you through, kay?”

“Um, yes, sorry, hold on.” You turned back to the screen.

Who do you want to talk to?

The man shrugged.

What are the options?

You repeated this out loud for the woman on the phone.

“Depends what you’re into. We’ve got lesbians, straight sex, domination, blondes, deep throat, curvys, transgender, cougars....” The list went on and on. The words all blending together until you barely understood if she was still speaking English. You signed a wait a minute to the man as you tried to grasp what was being said, “gangbangs, big tits, small tits, double penetration, triple penetration, squirting, barely legal and anal. You tell me, we’ve got lots of different girls for different things.”

You blinked at the man, who was still waiting for a reply.

They have straight sex and redheads was your final response. He frowned at you, tilting his head.

That’s it?

That’s it.

He seemed even more confused.

You sure? No big tits? You rolled your eyes at this, staring at the man who seemed to fine your embarrassment amusing. You shook your head at him and he sighed.

Straight redhead, I guess.

“Straight redhead please.” you spoke over the phone.

“Connecting you now.” you informed the man of this. And again, with the ringing. You took a deep breath, waiting for the nightmares that would come from the other end of this phone call.

“Hey, this is Tasha. Who’s this?” was the sultry reply. Professional, you must remain professional.

“Hi, I am calling from Vide-”“You sound really cute. I don’t normally do girls but I’m so horny tonight, I’ll make an exception.”

“NO!” It was your turn to interrupt her. “Sorry, no, no. I am calling from Video Relay. I’ve got a caller on the line who uses sign language and I’ll be interpreting the call for both of you tonight.”

The sexy voice went away, “what?”

“Well if, if you talk to me, I will sign to the caller, who’s deaf, he will sign to me and I will talk back to you?” you ended this hesitantly.

“He’s deaf?” “Yes, that’s right, he’s signing to me via video so that’s why I am here?” You became a bit exasperated.

“Right, gotcha.” you sensed a smirk from her end as well now, “so what does he look like?” came the cheeky question. You glanced at the man, his eyes focusing on you with his arms cross, making his muscles bugle. You blinked.

“He’s cute,” you whispered. “Look can we get started please?” You needed this to end.

“What was his name again?” You hadn’t gotten that far but was curious yourself however: “It’ll be easier to talk to me as if I’m him.”

The sexy voice was back. “What’s your name?”

You asked him.

Clint

Clint? Huh, suits him. You replied to the woman on the phone.

“And what are you doing up so late, Clint?” You heard a rustling on her end. What is she doing? You signed again to him.

Just finishing some work. You?

“I was waiting for you to call.” You responded to Clint, who asked

What are you wearing?

“Pink bra and panties.” At this time? If it was you, you’d be in your sweats, in bed, watching Netflix. However, if it was you, you’d also wouldn’t be on the phone talking about sex. No way you had the confidence for that. Tasha spoke again, “What are you wearing?”

You asked Clint, who replied with Just some boxer shorts. You blinked at him before repeating. That was not true.

“Is he?” came the curious reply. You snorted. “No, he’s wearing a grey t-shirt.” Clint narrowed his eyes at you before quickly signing

Don’t tell her that!

What? was your reply

Don’t tell her I’m wearing a t-shirt. You eyes widened before you responded

I didn’t!

Clint raised his eyebrows, his eyes glimmering. He seemed amused.

I can lip read.

Shit.

This man could lip read?! Why didn’t it occur to you that he could lip read??

I am so sorry. You felt guilty, talking about him like he wasn’t there. Clint shrugged, licking his lips once. You tried your best to focus on his face and not just his lips.

I’ll forgive you, he signed to you, grinning, because you called me cute. You blinked at him.

I didn’t call you cute. He moved closer to the camera, his eyes never wavering from yours, before slowly signing again

I can lip read.

Tasha huffed on the line, seemingly not appreciating being forgotten about.

“Ask him to take his shorts off then.” spoke her curt voice. You told him what she said, before getting his reply.

“His shorts are off!” you were glad to move on from that topic.

“Are you hard?” and straight onto a worse topic

“I’m sorry?” you squeaked. You received a sigh. Apparently, Tasha did not like you hesitance.

“Ask him,” she pronounced slowly, “if his dick is hard.” You nodded quickly, wavering in you response. Clint nodded once, his eyes still scanning you. Did he ever blink? You told Tasha of the affirmative.

“You wanna put your big, hard cock in my mouth.” You paused halfway through signing.

“Wow, ok, can we just assume he’s gonna say yes to that?”

“Just ask him!” was the curt reply. These two were killing you. You hesitated again, slowly signing the question. You noticed Scott out of the corner of your eye, watching you in amusement. He was going to get a special sign of his own in a minute. Look away, man!!

Clint nodded quickly at your question.

“Wow, he said yes. What a shock.” you giggle to yourself.

“What do you want me to do now, lover?” You asked Clint this question, who rapidly signed his answer, his response causing you to pause.

“Well?” asked Tasha. You raised a hand to your headset, breaking eye contact with Clint.

“I’m sorry.” you told her, “we’re having a few technical difficulties here, please wait while I put you on hold.” You quickly pressed the button.

I don’t feel comfortable doing this. Clint shook his head.

It’s your job to interpret exactly, was his curt repy.

I just don’t feel comfortable interpreting that. Clint shook his head again, looked like he was now the one becoming exasperated.

Then put me on with someone who will! You nodded in agreement and quickly paused the video, informing Scott of your dilemma. Scott rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles, “Give him to me!” You glanced over, slightly concerned. Was Scott ok? Transferring the call, you watched Scott begin to sign what Tasha was saying. You couldn’t see entirely but it was something about “feeling good in my mouth” and that was enough for you. Scott paused and nodded, before turning his gaze back to you, “He wants you back.” You sighed deeply. How is this your life. You nodded once to Scott, copying him by rolling your neck. You needed to pysche yourself up for this. You put a stern look across your face and unpaused the call. Clint was looking decidedly sheepish.

I’m sorry, he signed, pausing briefly, it needs to be you.

You sighed once more and responded to Tasha, who seemed shocked to hear you again.

“He says to please spit on his penis to make it all wet and slippery.”

“Yep, I’ve spat on it, it’s slippery as fuck, what next?” She seemed distracted, was she actually doing something? Nevertheless, you asked Clint the question. You swallowed briefly before taking a big breath.

“He would like to put his penis in you, um- inside you? In your vagina.” You managed to respond to her. She began moaning in your ear, which you showed to Clint, his face relaxing and smirking away. Tasha began to breathe heavily, complimenting him and his, uh, technique. You went to ask her what to say next , when you were interrupted by an alarm blaring into your headset. What was that? Is there a fire in Tasha’s house? “What is that?” You responded, flinching away from the noise. You glanced at Clint, who seemed concerned.

“So sorry,” she replied, still out of breathe, “something’s come up. Could you cover for me for one minute?” Was she kidding? No way could you do that?!

“Definitely not!” you told her. Was she crazy?

“Look, I’m gonna level with ya, something bad’s just come up and I need to fix it. Please, it’ll only be a minute?” she begged you. Lord above. Ok, c’mon. You can do this.

“ok.” you meekly replied. You looked at Clint waiting for you to talk to him. You raised your hand to your headset as if listening and smiled shortly.

Your penis is good. Clint blinked at you, waiting for you to continue. When all you did was smile, he asked you.

Does she want me to fuck her hard or slow? Again, you raised your hand to your headset as if talking to someone then responded to him with

Slow.

Clint didn’t seem happy with that response.

I want to fuck her hard. You widened your eyes.

She said slow! Clint shrugged

It’s my money. I want to fuck her hard. You sighed, then why would he even bother asking. You told the imaginary voice in your ear, pretending to listen.

Ok, she told me to say that you should start slow and build to hard next time. You shrugged as if to say ‘told you so.’ Clint narrowed his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching. He ran his tongue over his teeth before asking

Does she like that? You responded quickly, nodding to confirm.

You didn’t even ask her! was his childish reply

You mimicked moaning, small sounds coming from your mouth. I can hear her, I can tell.

Clint closed his eyes briefly, before looking at you again. His eyes seemed to stare into your soul.

Does she want me to put it in her ass? He wanted you to ask her that? You quickly shook your head. No way was that happening!

You didn’t even talk to her! he was quick to call you out, she’s not even there.

She is! you tried to defend yourself, I’m listening to her.

Bullshit!

He figured it out! What were you supposed to do now? A rustling in your ear filled you with relief.

“I’m back!” Tasha was still out of breath but you never thought you’d be so happy to speak to a phone sex operator.

“Help me!” you said to her, “please, tell me what to say.”

“Ok, “ her voice soothed you, “where are we at?”

You looked at Clint who had leaned back in his seat, raising both hands to rest on the back of his head, showing off his muscles. How’d he even get muscles like that?

“He’s fucking you hard, in the arse, i think?” you told her

“That was quick,” was the reply. Thank you!! You thought so.

“Yes, that’s what I said.” you responded, “what do I say now?”

“Tell him it’s the biggest dick I’ve ever had.” You nodded once, quickly telling him what she said. It was amazing how quickly you’d adapted to this scenario.

Thank you, was his reply, I know.

Really? you thought.

“Does he want to put it in my mouth?” You blinked at that. Was she serious?

“It’s just been in your arse?” you told her like she didn’t know. Maybe she didn’t hear you the first time.

“And so?” was the only response you got. Ok. She was the expert. Maybe it was a normal thing. You glanced back at the man on your screen.

Do you want to put it in her mouth? He blinked rapidly at that, seemingly breaking his cool composure.

It’s just been in her arse.

You burst out laughing. You couldn’t stop yourself. How was this your life right now. You covered your mouth with one hand as tears gathered in your eyes.

“What’s so funny?” Tasha asked you. You couldn’t reply, too busy giggling to yourself. You looked at Clint, who began to smile at you. Truly smile. He joined you in your laughter, making it harder for you to stop. He motioned for you to hangup.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, “he wants to hang up.” Tasha seemed put out by that.

“Well, did he cum?” that set you off further, giggling more as you hung up the phone. You tried to compose yourself, taking a deep breath and raising your eyes to his. He was still chuckling to himself.

Thank you, he told you. Huh, maybe he wasn’t such an arrogant arse like you thought.

No, you responded, thank you. That was the most interesting call I’ve ever had.

You took a deep breath, ready to let him go. This was your job, you reminded yourself, be professional.

I should go, you told him. He frowned at that, shaking his head.

Do you have another call? He got closer to the screen, filling it up entirely, smiling at you.

No, you smiled back at him.

Then stay?

You looked away, biting your lip. You shouldn’t. It would be unprofessional. You should go back to your textbooks and study. You had an exam. You turned to him again. But on the other hand.

Ok, I’ll stay.

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Here it is!! Took me ages and this is the most i’ve ever written. I did base it off a movie but changed some of the dialogue to fit better. My lousy computer is being a stinker so please let me know if there are any spelling errors or mistakes.