closed; make your home behind my eyes

[cognitived]

Who| Clint and Bruce
What| Bruce checks up on Clint's splint, delicate feeling talks are had.
Where| Blind spot
When| A week and a half-ish after the Binding
Warnings/Notes| Feelings, gross feelings

Time passes slow after the Binding, a haze of what pain meds Bruce and Sam could sneak him, and the grief that comes with losing another friend. In the vacuum of Steve's loss, Clint's stepped up -- metaphorically, really -- and bugged Sam and Bucky. Plopped Kate in their hands, chattered about her growth, and on and on about various things. Anything to keep them here and grounded and away from any foolish fucking mission they might get distracted by.

If it was Natasha, god, Clint would have thrown himself in after her, dislocated knee or not. He knows its hypocritical of him, but the mission, the safety of not only the both of them but the rest of the people involved, relies on their involvement staying hidden. So he focuses on them, and gives Bruce his space. Not just because of the tenuous thing they'd started before, but because he knows the look of a guy who needs time to sort through difficult situations.

But eventually, eventually Clint shows up at Bruce's door, barely keeping his limp secret by sheer force of will. Kate is off with Sam, happy with her other father, and that's a relief off Clint's shoulders. Still.

"I could really use a drink right about now." A smile, lopsided, eyes tired but intent. A wealth of meaning hidden in those blue depths. "Let me take you out?"

Comments

[honeyibrokeharlem]

Bruce can be hard to read sometimes. He knows it. It's a skill he cultivated early on. He's grateful for it, because otherwise he would have been visibly angry for the past week or so, and people would ask about it. People picking at his anger always ended with it flaring up, and he has to control his temper even when he doesn't have a big green problem to worry about.

It's better now. He stays on the periphery of the group they've made, stepping in when it looks like they need him to and otherwise just quietly plying them with food. It calms him down to help other people.

He expected Clint to approach him at some point. They hadn't really had the time to talk about what happened between them--either that or they just didn't have the inclination. It was something bound to come up, though. He didn't expect Clint to come to his room with that look in his eyes, but Bruce finds he really doesn't mind.

"We have drinks right here if staying in is more appealing." His face is hard to read, but there's a smile in the corner of his eyes, and that should be enough to know that he's ready to go along with it. He's just concerned about Clint walking around too much while trying to hide his injury. "But if you want to take me out, I'm not going to complain."

[cognitived]

That's not necessarily unusual, not to Clint. He himself can be hard to read, at least right up until he lightens up and opens up to people -- which can take a while. But his best friends were an ex-KGB assassin, and an unassuming agent for a super secret intelligence agency. You don't make it as the best without being some what hard to read.

So he's used to it, in a way. Lets Bruce have enough agency to do whatever he needs, whatever he wants. Because it's not as if he'd lost sight of Bruce lingering there in the periphery. Every time he stepped in, it was easier to bear the weight, knowing someone was there to help. Clint can't stay away, and with the time stretching between injury and now, he finally bridges the distance between them.

Here, now, Clint's smile warms, unconsciously. He can't help it, head ducking a bit, looking up at Bruce through his lashes. It could read as a play, and there are ulterior motives, but he is honestly contented to have Bruce as company. So a gesture with his head, and then he gallantly -- and teasingly -- offers Bruce his arm. Beyond a show for cameras, it also offers him a bit of stability, a bit of weight to take off his leg, should Bruce help.

"Well, who am I to disappoint, then?"

[honeyibrokeharlem]

"What a gentleman." It's a low, dry tease before Bruce takes Clint's arm in his, surreptitiously allowing the man to lean on him if he needs to. It's what Bruce does best: provide support if a person reaches out for it, but not push it if they don't.

It feels like a date. Some of it may be for show, some of it may not be. He doesn't think that Clint's looking for a relationship, because frankly he isn't either, but it's still nice to have friendly companionship. Bruce trusts so few people as it is; it's hard to keep going without a little bit of external support. It's hard to have that support when everyone is so broken up about what happened to Steve.

"Lead the way."

[cognitived]

Clint laughs, a soft little thing, and carefully leans against Bruce. It looks more like a couple whispering secrets in each other's ears than it looks like a wounded man leaning on a someone, and that's the plan.

Basically, it really does feel like a date. Bruce is right, Clint's not looking for a relationship, but the companionship is good. He just really likes what they have, and it's nice having a sort of complicated-uncomplicated thing between them. It's part of the reason why he's at Bruce's door really, even if he does need to have his splint looked after.

"Oh I will." He teases right on back, slotting a coy grin Bruce's way.