( words are hard, and this conversation has managed to derail itself from where clint orginally planned on going with it, partly because clint doesn't really want for it to go in the direction he'd originally planned. )
[ She’d been thinking about herself as the relationship that would be weirdest because she’d never known Clint when he’d had anything romantic with her. That she knows of. No one ever mentioned the end of the world stuff to her, besides she couldn’t judge that it had made her date Parker. ]
( which, ultimately, isn't the issue here. it's the least important of the entire NATASHA IS DIFFERENT conversation, but of course it's the part of the topic they've ended up on.
(probably because it's not important, really.)
it's a message that's punctuated by a series of "..." and then, finally— )
had a thing with banner though, which is kind of ironic.
( is it actually ironic, or is it the alanis morissette definition of ironic? either way, it's easier to to type than 'she's dead, apparently.' )
it's a comment he types out, looks at for a minute, and then decides that it's unfair. he's not trying to have an argument, even if that would probably be easiest.
[ She really takes a minute to think about all the possibilities. ]
Not at all.
The closest I could think of was like, a suburb with a yard for Lucky and a big grill.
[ Maybe a pool where she images them together but it’s not fair to say that.]
I’d probably tease you about it that you bought a place just far enough away so that I don’t wanna go home at night and sleep over more when I visit you.
[ She thought it was a cute joke and is now confused at the question. ]
Sorry too.
[ She types a million things bubbles deleted before giving up and looking a the clock at the late hour. It’s 11 he’s maybe home right? She pulls on a pair of too big sweat pants and leaves on the lazy tshirt and walks across the hallway in bare feet to knock on his door as opposed to typing more. ]
( the last thing he expects is for someone to knock on the door and he's halfway through a (sort of) reply when it happens. he pauses, considers ignoring the door because being social and talking to someone, however well-meaning, isn't really on his agenda for the night.
it doesn't take long for him to decide he doesn't really know how to reply to bobbi's apology and that's the impetus for him to make his way to the door. he's dressed about as well as bobbi is, and as he reluctantly pulls the door open, he's not ashamed by the fact that he's relieved it's her and not anyone else. is it a surprise? eh, she literally lives across the hall—. )
—Hey. ( he's tired. should he be tired? it's not that late. maybe he's not tired and that's just an excuse. maybe he just wants to be tired. he holds the door open for her to come inside. ) Long time no see.
[ Honestly, Bobbi doesn’t know what to say so she just steps in. She’s not really sure what she’s doing here other then the fact that when was the last time you stayed in Brooklyn was under her skin in a way she can’t explain.
Because well it’s fair. For all the times she gives him shit for not reaching for her or meeting her where she’s at, she takes what she wants and leaves a lot. It’s a dick move.
She waits for him to close the door and just reaches for him. Pulling him into a hug and tucking her face into his shoulder quietly if he will let her. ]
Well it’s not Brooklyn but it’s all I can do right now.
( he lets her pull him close, let's her tuck her face into his shoulder as he wraps his arms around her. it's funny, he thinks, its never the physical affection, the physical anything that feels weird between them, it's the absence of it.
she doesn't quite smell familiar; the detergent here is different to what she used at home, the shampoo's different, but she feels like her. she sounds like her. is her.
(and thank god for that, because he doesn't think he'd take an alternate universe bobbi very gracefully.)
he huffs out a breath that stops just short of being a laugh. )
We're a little far from Bed-Stuy, Birdie, so I'll take it.
[Bobbi Morse rarely feels safe. She rarely has any sign of being content. Lord knows that Clint Barton is one of the things in her life that drives her up the wall at times.
In this moment however, Clint's arms around her and his big frame bring peace. Her hand fists at his t-shirt just holding onto it. It's rare that she'd do this. Hold him like this.
Sure, she's dropped by his apartment and jumped him a million times. Kissed him, had wild throwing clothes and breaking lamps sort of sex. But that's not wat this is. It's some sort of offering to just be there. Tonight it's not just that she doesn't wanna be a lone. It's that she wants to be with him. ]
Good. Because I'm so glad you're you that I don't want to let you go right now okay?
( vulnerability is something neither of them are great at expressing, but xmint's always afforded himself more vulnerability than bobbi ever has. it's not that she doesn't feel, of course, its that clont — in his own opinion of himself — feels too much and is rarely able to keep himself even-keeled in quite the same way.
they haven't always succeeded, but when it works, it means they bring a sense of balance to the other, with bobbi uniquely capable of tempering clint's tendency to be over-dramatic when things are hard.
she says she's glad he's him and he moves his head just a touch. she doesn't know the half of it, and there's a part of him that knows she'll find out eventually that this other him has a whole family with someone that isn't her. has not even the one kid they'd been so excited for hut fucking three of them, and he thinks there's a chance she'd take it better hearing it from him, but he doesn't want to ruin this. for now, he thinks he'll prefer to take whatever the consequences are of bobbi finding out later if they can just stay like this for a while. )
You have no idea.
( it's murmured into her hair, soft and quiet and muffled. she probably feels him speaking the words more than hears them, but that's fine. it's fine.
[The truth of the matter was when Bobbi took the apartment across the hall from him she'd been assuming it would be for hookups, but this is a really good option too.
It's not that she's cold or soulless, she just buries her emotions deep and it's rare for anyone to actually dig them up. Except the man who is with her in this moment. They're constantly in a balancing act but it's moments like this that make it feel worth it.
When she feels him talk against her hair it's hard to imagine Clint being short. Or whatever it was he's said. He's her big giant fella even when he's not hers exactly. ]
Good, cause the feeling is mutual. [She mutters against him fondly back. It's about as good of an admission that she could make in this moment. If she thought about it it'd be odd. It's been what? Barely a week since they fought? They've gone weeks before without talking and she's never felt that but why is it so intense here. Those are thoughts for another day, and another time.
( in recent years, they've been better at hook-ups than they have been anything else, simply because it didn't mean trying to untangle the mess of their emotions, the mess thay they'd managed to make of what they are to each other. in theory, it should be simple, but in practice, it's anything but, and sometimes clint thinks they used up all their simplicity in the early days, when they'd jumped from knowing each other to jumping each other to getting married.
not everything that'd happened since then has been their fault, not really. some of it's just part and parcel of the job, the lifestyle, but none of it's anything either of them are willing to give up. it'd taken clint longer than he'd like to admit that bobbi had sacrificed just as much, if not more than he had for her life. after all, he hadn't really had anything when he'd become an avenger, didn't really have anyone else even now, at least not anyone that isn't a part of that life already.
bobbi did, once upon a time. )
I know. ( or at least, he knows that he's one of the only people that bobbi lets hold her like this. he doesn't know if it's about the quality of his hugs or if it's about him, but the difference doesn't much matter. ) But there's a couch over there— ( he turns his head in lieu of indicating with a hand. ) If you get tired of standing near my door.
[He's not wrong in his assumption that she doesn't let other people hold her. She's never even really let the people's she dated hold her like this. Intimacy outside of sex is something she's only ever really developed with him. Hell, she doesn't even let anyone outside of Clint snuggle post sex.
Mostly because of the timing of it all. Since Bobbi came back she's never been truly able to bond with someone the way she was before it all. Clint benefited from being the love of her life before all the trauma and he's always been comfortable because of that.
He suggests the move to the couch and it takes every fiber of her being to not ask to be carried. That's not a level of neediness she's willing to get to tonight though so she nods and untangles herself from him. ]
You know I'm very fond of this particular door... [A joke of some sort as she takes his hand and leads him over to the couch. ]
( in almost but not quite every relationship, it's clint who's the needy one, who's clingy and overly familiar. it's not often that the roles are reversed, not often that clint gets to experience the other side of it, which mostly means that when it happens, when it's bobbi, it hits that little bit harder. equally, it means that when it's the status quo, when it's business as usual, clint doesn't think anything of it. it doesn't strike him as weird or unusual when bobbi frees herself from his embrace, doesn't quite look up at him, and tells him (lies) that she likes his door — even as she pulls him over to his sofa.
he steps around her to slide onto the sofa first, stretched out enough to pull her alongside him. he ignores the quiet voice that says he could probably fall asleep with her resting against him, ignores that it'd probably be the best night's sleep he'd had in the entire month he's been here. )
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( "you". it's not him, and that's the point, isn't it? she's not nat. )
he's short, apparently.
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I was starting to get worried there was a Clint out there without a hot spy to give him shit.
Short? Wow that’s tragically uncool.
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brunette, too.
like i said, their world sounds ... weird.
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Hey, at least we’re not having to meet these versions of each other. That’s gotta be weird as fuck for Sharon.
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I guess that’s exactly what you did with Nat.
Sorry Clint, I don’t know how I forgot that.
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( it's not fine. )
it was a long time ago.
( apart from the fucking in a supply closet thing, but—. )
she didn't, for what it's worth.
( perhaps he'd clarify how that came up if he was thinking about how it might come across, but for now, it's just the statement by itself. )
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she didn’t what?
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( which, ultimately, isn't the issue here. it's the least important of the entire NATASHA IS DIFFERENT conversation, but of course it's the part of the topic they've ended up on.
(probably because it's not important, really.)
it's a message that's punctuated by a series of "..." and then, finally— )
had a thing with banner though, which is kind of ironic.
( is it actually ironic, or is it the alanis morissette definition of ironic? either way, it's easier to to type than 'she's dead, apparently.' )
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I bet that would drive Bucky a little crazy.
Other Bobbi apparently disappeared on Daisy to save ‘them’ whoever that was. She didn’t know what happened to her.
I can’t stop thinking about that bit.
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well, that's familiar, isn't it—.
it's a comment he types out, looks at for a minute, and then decides that it's unfair. he's not trying to have an argument, even if that would probably be easiest.
at length— )
other clint has a fucking farm.
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God. I bet it’s in Iowa.
[ She’s starting to realize just how much she likes Clint the way he is, even if they are a mess together sometime. ]
Our world might be horrible in some ways but at least we have New York.
1/2
( and god, he hopes not. )
can you imagine me on a farm?
( when the actual question is "can you imagine me married to someone that's not you with three kids?" )
feels like there's a point where questions stop being constructive and just start being a whole series of what ifs.
( which— )
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Not at all.
The closest I could think of was like, a suburb with a yard for Lucky and a big grill.
[ Maybe a pool where she images them together but it’s not fair to say that.]
I’d probably tease you about it that you bought a place just far enough away so that I don’t wanna go home at night and sleep over more when I visit you.
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oh.
well, that just makes him feel like a fucking asshole, doesn't it, and it's not even him. )
when was the last time you stayed in brooklyn?
( —that's not better, is it?
a couple of minutes later— )
sorry.
for that and the other night.
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Sorry too.
[ She types a million things bubbles deleted before giving up and looking a the clock at the late hour. It’s 11 he’s maybe home right? She pulls on a pair of too big sweat pants and leaves on the lazy tshirt and walks across the hallway in bare feet to knock on his door as opposed to typing more. ]
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it doesn't take long for him to decide he doesn't really know how to reply to bobbi's apology and that's the impetus for him to make his way to the door. he's dressed about as well as bobbi is, and as he reluctantly pulls the door open, he's not ashamed by the fact that he's relieved it's her and not anyone else. is it a surprise? eh, she literally lives across the hall—. )
—Hey. ( he's tired. should he be tired? it's not that late. maybe he's not tired and that's just an excuse. maybe he just wants to be tired. he holds the door open for her to come inside. ) Long time no see.
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Because well it’s fair. For all the times she gives him shit for not reaching for her or meeting her where she’s at, she takes what she wants and leaves a lot. It’s a dick move.
She waits for him to close the door and just reaches for him. Pulling him into a hug and tucking her face into his shoulder quietly if he will let her. ]
Well it’s not Brooklyn but it’s all I can do right now.
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she doesn't quite smell familiar; the detergent here is different to what she used at home, the shampoo's different, but she feels like her. she sounds like her. is her.
(and thank god for that, because he doesn't think he'd take an alternate universe bobbi very gracefully.)
he huffs out a breath that stops just short of being a laugh. )
We're a little far from Bed-Stuy, Birdie, so I'll take it.
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In this moment however, Clint's arms around her and his big frame bring peace. Her hand fists at his t-shirt just holding onto it. It's rare that she'd do this. Hold him like this.
Sure, she's dropped by his apartment and jumped him a million times. Kissed him, had wild throwing clothes and breaking lamps sort of sex. But that's not wat this is. It's some sort of offering to just be there. Tonight it's not just that she doesn't wanna be a lone. It's that she wants to be with him. ]
Good. Because I'm so glad you're you that I don't want to let you go right now okay?
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they haven't always succeeded, but when it works, it means they bring a sense of balance to the other, with bobbi uniquely capable of tempering clint's tendency to be over-dramatic when things are hard.
she says she's glad he's him and he moves his head just a touch. she doesn't know the half of it, and there's a part of him that knows she'll find out eventually that this other him has a whole family with someone that isn't her. has not even the one kid they'd been so excited for hut fucking three of them, and he thinks there's a chance she'd take it better hearing it from him, but he doesn't want to ruin this. for now, he thinks he'll prefer to take whatever the consequences are of bobbi finding out later if they can just stay like this for a while. )
You have no idea.
( it's murmured into her hair, soft and quiet and muffled. she probably feels him speaking the words more than hears them, but that's fine. it's fine.
then— )
I missed you.
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It's not that she's cold or soulless, she just buries her emotions deep and it's rare for anyone to actually dig them up. Except the man who is with her in this moment. They're constantly in a balancing act but it's moments like this that make it feel worth it.
When she feels him talk against her hair it's hard to imagine Clint being short. Or whatever it was he's said. He's her big giant fella even when he's not hers exactly. ]
Good, cause the feeling is mutual. [She mutters against him fondly back. It's about as good of an admission that she could make in this moment. If she thought about it it'd be odd. It's been what? Barely a week since they fought? They've gone weeks before without talking and she's never felt that but why is it so intense here. Those are thoughts for another day, and another time.
Instead she just adds.]
You give the best hugs too.
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not everything that'd happened since then has been their fault, not really. some of it's just part and parcel of the job, the lifestyle, but none of it's anything either of them are willing to give up. it'd taken clint longer than he'd like to admit that bobbi had sacrificed just as much, if not more than he had for her life. after all, he hadn't really had anything when he'd become an avenger, didn't really have anyone else even now, at least not anyone that isn't a part of that life already.
bobbi did, once upon a time. )
I know. ( or at least, he knows that he's one of the only people that bobbi lets hold her like this. he doesn't know if it's about the quality of his hugs or if it's about him, but the difference doesn't much matter. ) But there's a couch over there— ( he turns his head in lieu of indicating with a hand. ) If you get tired of standing near my door.
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Mostly because of the timing of it all. Since Bobbi came back she's never been truly able to bond with someone the way she was before it all. Clint benefited from being the love of her life before all the trauma and he's always been comfortable because of that.
He suggests the move to the couch and it takes every fiber of her being to not ask to be carried. That's not a level of neediness she's willing to get to tonight though so she nods and untangles herself from him. ]
You know I'm very fond of this particular door... [A joke of some sort as she takes his hand and leads him over to the couch. ]
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he steps around her to slide onto the sofa first, stretched out enough to pull her alongside him. he ignores the quiet voice that says he could probably fall asleep with her resting against him, ignores that it'd probably be the best night's sleep he'd had in the entire month he's been here. )
The door's nice, but I promise this is nicer.
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