Chapter Text
The first time it happens is after a gruesome two weeks of Cap running all over the world. The others have been staying stateside and been more or less taking it easy. Natasha has been doing something light infiltration that takes her away only every few days and only a day at most. Bruce and Tony have been doing their usual labrat thing and emerged only for food and pizza nights. The pizza nights had used to include movies to catch Steve up but since he was gone they had forgone that and just had some dinner once a week together. Clint has been doing his usual, training, shooting and going to his psych as a good SHIELD agent should. He misses the usual rhythm of his life with missions and structured life. Nowadays, after New York he’s got more downtime than ever, less structure and it feels wrong. He feels ungrounded in ways that he hasn’t in years. He has a place in the Tower, in the Team, he knows this. Know that Tony isn’t going to kick him, kick anyone of them out. At least not without a good reason. And as Clint has a lot of down time and no plans he starts browsing listing for properties, starting from flats in Bed-Sty, in horrible conditions and the proceeds to get fundamentally lost in his boredom and look at farms in the middle of nowhere to renovate. Then thankfully Steve comes back and it’s first movie night the same night with tons of Chinese and he forgets about it. They are watching Star Trek and Tony is explaining all the different versions of how the show revolutionized the students and resulted in a lot the inventions he came up with in college. Bruce pipes in with the social commentary of how great the show is and Steve just nods and listens. He sits close to Clint on the couch, Nat being the little shit she is taking half of the couch, legs pulled by her side, lounging with her cup of spiced tea. Steve thrusts the plates and cartons away three episodes in and stretches his longs legs in the coffee table. Tony makes a rude noise but gets no reactions. By the next episode Steve is leaning against Clint, heavy and warm, pinning him against the armrest. At the end of the episode his head is on Clint's shoulder arms around his waist, snoring softly. Clint sends panicked looks at the others but they pretend not to notice. Assholes. Still, is Steve is this tired… Clint sighs in defeat and gets comfy. He falls asleep with soft breath tickling his hair and strong arms around him. Warm. Safe. When he wakes up, he's alone.
The second time it's Clint’s fault. He falls into an icy river in the middle of hush-hush-you’re-not-supposed-to-be-here. It’s just him, Cap and Bruce this time, though at the very end Bruce hung back in with the exac team, for a just in case scenario. It’s not needed, their intel had thought the threat bigger than it was and Clint had been enough for Cap and a small strike force to run through and clean the complex of the traffickers. Thankfully dealing only with weapons that were still packed away in their would be hiding places for future shipping. So minimal resistance and Cap doing most of the grunt work should have meant that Clint would come out of this unscathed. But no such luck. The last five were sneakier, four to distract Cap and one took of running. And Clint could have shot the guy it could have been easier, but orders were to get as many of them alive as possible, so he took off running after him, leaving the rest of them to Cap and others. Running in snow and cold was not ideal but he was in peak condition and kinda wanting to impress Cap as well. But the guy is running for his life and Clint can’t reach him quickly enough, so one neat arrow through the thigh does the trick, making the man crumble down in the snow. Whatever he’s trying to take away must be important since bleeding on the snow he still tries to get away. Limping and slow but trying anyway. Clint tackles the guy just before he reaches a still rapidly flowing river. He sees Clint running towards him and chucks the backpack he had on him towards the river and Clint curses. He’s enough of a professional to knock the annoying twerp out and shoot a grappling hook at a nearby tree , attaching it to his belt, before abandoning all his excess equipment and jumping behind the floating pack. The icy water was a shock as he jumped feet first in and almost managed to keep his head above the surface.The current takes ahold of him and drags him away from the bank and Clint starts swimming, keeping his eyes on his price, mindful of the fact that he only has a certain length of wire left. He swims and tries to not drown. A rock hits his leg and then his side but he has only a certain amount of time left so he soldiers through and just manages to snatch the pack as he feels a sharp tug on his waist and the line runs out. Clint releases a wet, breathless whoop of joy as the line tenses more and he’s being dragged back, towards the shore. He drags the back with one hand, swims with other towards the shore. Dragging himself up the bank is hard as his fingers have lost the feeling and he’s shaking all over. But he manages it, dripping water and breathing deeply on all fours, shivering and feeling like an icicle. He hears running steps and manages to get up on his feet.
“Clint, you idiot!” Steve yells at him and that wasn’t what he was expecting.
“What? It must be important ‘cause the guy tried to get away with it so badly!” He defends his actions, teeth chattering and when it got so dark and cold?
“Not that! You could have just shot the thing with the grapple and not jumped after it,” Steve bellows at him, face inches away from his. Clint blinks.
“Oh. Right… That was stupid,” he admits and Steve sighs, wrapping himself around Clint. Clint grips the precious black, sodding wet backpack in his arms as Steve crushes him.
“Let’s go before you freeze to death and Natasha has my balls for not keeping you alive,” Steve starts pushing Clint into a slight jog, hands still on his shoulders as he pushes him back the tracks he made earlier. Clint giggles, there’s a slight manic edgy to it, and lifts his legs enough to move forward at a slow jog. It starts to make him warmer but his toes and fingers tingle with needle pricks.
“You said balls.” Thankfully Steve doesn’t hit him. Though it is embarrassing that Bruce throws the shock blankets at him and glares and fusses around him, until he’s wrapped into them in the corner of the quinjet. He has heating bads warming his toes anr fingers, Bruce is kicking the soaking wet outer clothes into a pile while Cap handles the rest of the wrap up. Clint kinda starts to nap but apparently Bruce is a big meanie and gives him a little kick every now and then so he doesn’t fall asleep. They also try to get him up and moving but he’s not having it because it’s warmish and nice just where he is, thanks. Cap sees this but let’s him be until they are up and moving and then suddenly Cap is giving everyone a real nice show as he strips down of his field uniform. Clint may or may not be watching behind half lidded eyes and slightly open mouth. He doesn't drool. Someone wolf whistles but Steve ignores it and tugs at the edge of Clint’s, (it’s a nest isn’t it?), blankets.
“Let me in. Body heat,” Steve explains, crouching down in just his under suit that clings deliciously to his chest. Clint is so dumbfounded that he kinda just lets him in. Steve, unsurprisingly gathers Clint as close to him as possible, not minding the damp clothes, all limbs hugging him close. The are snickers but they are ignored because this is comfy and warm.
Bruce makes a few amused glances at them but Clint thanks every deity he can that Tony doesn’t find out about it. The plan fails because they don't count on Bruce being a sneaky troll and a blood traitor, having snapped pictures of them cuddling in a big pile of hideous orange blankets.
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The next three or so times blend together as Clint gets a really bad case of the cold (someone mutters something about influenza or pneumonia but Clint is miserable and doesn’t listen because he’s dying).The few times he’s aware enough to know it he finds Steve right there, being his own personal heater. And a lovely octopus that smiles at him and makes him drink stuff before wrapping him safe again in his arms. Crushing him. It should be annoying but Clint decides to be annoyed later. After he finishes dying, preferably.
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The final time, before their first kiss, it’s Clint who comes in, tired and grumpy. He has had a bad night and an even worse day following it and if he wasn’t a superhero he would crawl into a corner and cry. Still considers it but he must power through. Must live up to the hype somehow. But then there is Steve. Sitting on a very comfy couch and watching Dog cops. And Clint can’t help himself, so he goes over and. just. slides over the backrest of the thing and into Steve’s lap. Arms hugging around the middle, face buried in his lap. Steve doesn’t even hesitate, hand going in his hair, petting him. He doesn't say anything. He's just Steve. And finally Clint relaxes.
They stay like that for a long while. At some point he turns his head so he can follow the plot but otherwise neither of them moves. They stay like that until after the credits roll and commercials start, before Steve bends over him and places a small kiss on his cheek.
“Come to bed with me?” he asks and Clint nods. Steve the bastard carries him but it’s allowed just this once, Clint thinks as he clings tighter.Steve's bed is big and empty only for a moment as they both brush teeth and shed most of their clothes in heaps on the floor. Neither moving more than an arms length away from the other.
Under the covers they finally kiss. Just a light brush of lips before drifting off to sleep again, tightly wrapped around each other.