There's only five minutes or so until the end of the day, and Clint had let his students out early. It was a Friday, and he found that the last fifteen minutes of a Friday afternoon were mostly a bust anyway; the kids were itching to start the weekend and not listening to a word that he said.

Besides, never hurt to have your class like you.

He made his way to the lecture theatre, paused outside and smiled a little at the sound of Bruce's voice floating through the doors - impassioned and interested by what he was teaching. That was why the kids fought to take his class.

He slipped in the back door and his smile widened a little at the sight of the man, back to him, scrawling something across the chalkboard; he settled into an empty seat in the front row and let the words wash over him in anticipation.

Thank you for your many applications for AU Sunday! They were all pretty awesome, and I did have a hard time choosing, but the ones I eventually decided on are...

MIB AU - tonyandhisbots

Teachers AU - gammaaccident

Bountyhunters AU - retrievalspecialist

Gangster AU - etcaecilubet

You all gave me a brief description of what you wanted to happen (and they are pretty awesome ideas) so I'll be in contact sometime today to confirm so that we can jump right in tomorrow!

11 - collarbone kiss

Clint doesn’t even feel guilty about the way he comes quickly to rely on Bruce - the man seems happy to have someone who doesn’t mind his touches, his easy physical affection, the casual hand on the waist or the kiss to the temple.

Conversely, Clint’s happy to have someone he can hold onto, because the thing he’s learned about blindness is that wide spaces he can’t clear are the quickest way to get him to panic.

So he spends more and more time with the man, pressed against his side so that he knows he’s not alone, so that he knows he’s not in immediate danger.

(And he firmly ignores the ache in his gut every time he thinks about  the way that Bruce means nothing by those kisses and those touches.)

"I wish they’d just decide what they’re going to do with me," Clint sighs, one hand massaging his aching brow. He feels Bruce tug him into an embrace and goes happily, resting his forehead against the man’s shoulder.

"Whatever they decide," Bruce said, “your friends won’t abandon you, Clint. You mean too much to us for that."

There’s a silence as Clint tries to respond to the words, finds he doesn’t know how. In the end, he presses himself a little more into Bruce’s shoulder, lets his lips brush against the collarbone beneath them.