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On most days, he could pretend that they were just a normal couple. Well, a normal couple with their usual issues. But that was normal, too. Every couple had their issues. On the other days… well, he knew that he wasn‘t good enough. It was just a basic fact. He‘s a fucking runaway kid that joined a fucking circus and barely got it‘s GED – and that‘s only because Phil had insisted on it, just in case if Clint should ever want to do something else. And Bruce… well, Clint couldn‘t even understand the titles of Bruce‘s doctoral thesis. From none of them. Bruce had tried to explain him what they were about and for everyone else it would be easy to follow, he knew, but for him? Bruce could‘ve spoken to him in Chinese and he would‘ve understood more. They couldn‘t talk about it like Bruce could with Tony. Or Steve, after a few explanations.
Sure, they talked about a lot of things. They both liked to watch movies and they loved books. They didn’t read the same books, okay, but Clint liked to listen to Bruce telling him of the books he read, sometimes explaining them. And he loved it how Bruce pretended to listen to him. He loved how Bruce smiled at him. Or the way Bruce touched him. Not even when they had sex (it was spectacular, always, even though he didn’t gave enough to Bruce, but some things he just couldn’t do), but when the older man petted him or just hugged him. He loved those small touches and tried to savor every one of them. He just wanted to remember them when they were gone. And they would be gone faster than he wanted, because he was stupid, so stupid. Not just because he couldn’t understand what Bruce did, no, that would’ve been the reason under normal circumstances. Those weren’t normal circumstances he reminded himself while he controlled the content of his bag. And it was his fault, he should’ve been more careful.
Briefly, Clint asked himself if he should steal one of Bruce shirts out of the hamper with the dirty laundry, just to have something that reminded him of Bruce’s smell when he heard someone opening the door to their bedroom. Well, Bruce’s bedroom now.
“Where you’re going?”
Clint swallowed, not knowing if he should turn around or just try to ignore the older man. He sounded tired, resigned. Clint swallowed down the lump in his throat. Well, he had to turn around at some time, he had to leave through the door after all. Sadly, this way he couldn’t steal a shirt.
“Honey?”
“Please don’t.”, he croaked. He couldn’t, not if Bruce used pet names. Or sounded like this.
“What is it that I shouldn’t do? Ask where my boyfriend is going while he’s checking his emergency bag? You know, that one he once explained me has been around for years, with everything in it, just in case? I won’t keep you from leaving if that’s what you want, and I can understand that you need a bit time to… well, to clear your head. I’d just like to know if you’re coming back.”, Bruce said, voice getting smaller at the end, almost breaking. Clint sucked in a breath. Why should Bruce want him to come back? Or even to stay? He felt Bruce coming up to him, stopping shortly behind Clint.
“May I touch you?”, Bruce asked and Clint broke, tears sliding down his face. Yes, he really wanted Bruce to touch him. Just one last time. That was one of the things he loved about him, too. He never assumed that he could touch. He always knew when Clint had one of his episodes where he couldn’t be a normal guy. Still, he shook his head.
“It… don’t do this to me, Bruce. Please, I’ll get out of your hair, I’ll switch continents, whatever you want, please. Just… don’t give me this. I deserve it, I understand, but please don’t.”
Please don’t give me hope, Clint thought. He’d fucked up, he knew that.
Bruce hummed and stepped a bit closer.
“I’ll touch you know, Clint. If you don’t want that, just move. But I’m not touching you to be cruel.”, Bruce said and then hugged him, ignoring the flinching from Clint. He could still fell them on his skin, as if something crawled all over him, but Bruce… made it better. The crawling didn’t disappear but he made it better.
“You’re the kindest man I know. I know that you’re not cruel, but… you know we don’t fit. They said so. Everyone knows this. They… could see it after a few hours. And I broke the only rule, I don’t deserve you.”, Clint sobbed, trying to stand still, tried to savor it the hug. It just felt so nice. Bruce sighed and then rested his forehead against Clint’s shoulder. The one that’s not injured, because Bruce is mindful like that.
“Of course they said that, honey, because they don’t know us. They don’t know that you do everything to make me smile when I have a bad day. They don’t know that you keep me fed when I forget to come out of the lab for three days straight. They don’t know how much I like to ramble about things most people don’t know, not just you, and that you let me even though I know I’m boring you to death with the science stuff. They don’t know how much I love it when you cook or the way you smile just because I brought you those cupcakes from that shop a few blocks down, even though you won’t eat them right away, only one at the time.”
He felt a light kiss on his neck and then the warmth disappeared.
“You got assaulted, Clint. You didn’t walked into the bar, intending to get laid. That wasn’t cheating, no matter what your head says. It’s my rule, so I get to decide the parameters, right? And for me, it’s not cheating if my boyfriend just wants to get a drink and got assaulted by two assholes. Please try to trust me with that. I… I let you do whatever you need. Whatever you decide, it will be okay for me, no matter what. It’s your decision. If you want to, I’m in the kitchen. There’s enough tea for two.”
Clint heard the door sliding shut behind Bruce, just staring ahead. That made no sense. He cheated on Bruce, betrayed him. But just like Bruce said, it was Bruce rule. It didn’t matter to Clint if the other man slept with whoever he wanted to as long as Clint got a kiss. He knew that he was pathetic like that, but it was just a fact. Bruce had looked sad when he told him that, one time when he’d been drunk. Clint sighed and looked down on his bag again. It was all arranged. He already had a job in Mumbai. But maybe… he really could come back? Just maybe Bruce would let him in again. He zipped the bag up and slung it over his shoulder before walking to the kitchen. Bruce clutched one of his tea cups, another just standing on the breakfast bar.
“i have a job. In India. SHIELD said it would take around two weeks. If.. that’s okay with you.”, he finished lamely, not looking up. Bruce had to know that it wasn’t a SHIELD mission. He’s too smart for it, and now Clint just lied to him and now Bruce definitely wouldn’t open the door when Clint came back, because Bruce hated it when he lied, even when it’s better for…
“That sounds great, honey. Can I contact you somehow?”
Clint nodded, still not looking up, tears welling up again. Bruce was too good for him.
“I have my phone.”
“That’s enough. You still want tea?”
Clint shook his head. He didn’t deserved the comfort. Bruce was already kind enough to take him back after he cheated. Clint swallowed and turned around, walking to the door, bag clutched in his hand.
“I love you, Clint. No matter what. Just come back to me in one piece. Or at least in enough pieces that I can flick you together.”
Clint nodded and went out of the door, ignoring the attempt of humor in Bruce’s voice. And if he broke down in front of their apartment, sitting down on the steps to cry, it was no one’s business except his own.