Marvel Avengers Imagines

Clint Barton - Gates Are Open: Part 3

The blonde awoke under a warm blanket with hazy memories of the night before, flitting around in angry throbs that hit the inner sides of his head, this hangover likely due to the pile of bottles cluttering the floor circling the sofa he lay on. Rubbing his forehead wearily, the sleep not having eased his fatigue one bit, he fished around his head until he deduced that his visitor from last night had been Natasha, who like a good friend, had been asking about his current state. From what he remembered, he probably hadn't given her a very good impression or eased her worry in any way.

With that in mind, he found himself standing outside her door, doorbell rung, with a drooping bouquet of red roses, cliche and hastily bought on the way, but the thought was still there and showed as evidence that Clint Barton possibly wasn't such a bad friend and at least knows when he fucks up.

"I wanted to apologise...for the other night..." He murmured under his breath while he waited, rehearsing the words he wanted to say. "I'm in a really bad place right now-"

The door swung open.

"Clint?" Nat wore an expression of surprise at the unexpected guest, but ushered him inside. "Come in."

"I brought flowers." He offered them out as he stepped over the threshold.

"Thank you, they're lovely." She took them with a smile, then her face turned serious. "What did you do?"

"What?"

"Well, you obviously must've done something bad that warranted a good deed such as these roses. So what was it?"

"I felt bad," he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "About the other night. I shouted at you and I shouldn't have, I'm just in a really bad-"

"Spare me the sentiment, ok? (Y/N) left and things aren't good for you, I understand that you're not going to be skipping around any time soon."

"I'm never going to be skipping around."

The redhead shrugged, moving to the kitchen to place the flowers in vase, and Clint followed, noticing the nearly empty wine bottle and glass besides it.

"Have you been drinking?"

"Clearly."

"Huh." He shrugged, realising he wasn't in any place to judge. "Yeah, me too."

"You know," Nat gave him a rare, genuine smile. "You really didn't have to come over here to apologise. With flowers."

"I know, but I still feel like I owe you an explanation, at least."

"I'm not going to say no..." Nat smirked, her thirst for gossip getting the best of her.

"It's ridiculous, I bet you'll laugh when you hear it." Clint gave a nervous chuckle and took a deep breath. "(Y/N)...seems to think that I'm in love you. Oh, and that you love me too. Stupid, right?"

Natasha stopped, putting the vase carefully on the side and turned to look at her friend. "Obviously (Y/N) doesn't think it's stupid."

"Yeah, but she's just upset. Just because I used to have feelings for you, doesn't mean I'm in love with you!"

Nat let out a snort. "What was she basing this on?"

"I don't know, how we are around each other, 'looks', ah-" He avoided Nat's gaze. "I may have said your name in my sleep, couple of times, nothing major."

"You did what?"

"We have a deep bond sure, there's no denying that, with our past."

"Clint." For the first time that evening, Nat looked almost nervous, a rare sight.