Chapter 9
Clint couldn’t stop to worry about Natasha for longer than he would have liked. As soon as he had seen her he had known something was wrong, but he hadn’t wanted to push her to talk about something she was so obviously uncomfortable with. She had looked tired, so tired he couldn’t believe she was still standing. He was glad that Bucky, at least, had stayed with her while he did what he could to run the café. It wasn’t his job, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to take some of the pressure off of her.
Luckily, it was slow enough that Wanda shooed him away from the register several minutes after Natasha had disappeared and told him to find their resident assassin. He had rolled his eyes, but stepped away and let her take over. Scanning the room quickly for the redhead, he almost started to panic when he didn’t spot her. Before he could really start to freak himself out, there was a hesitant touch on his shoulder and he found himself looking at the guy Natasha had attacked.
The first thing Clint noticed was the hearing aids. Then he took in the thick framed black glasses, disheveled blond hair and worried bright blue eyes. He had to wonder if the guy was okay after all that had happened, but wasn’t really sure how to ask.
As it turned out, he beat Clint to the punch. “Are you okay? I know you don’t work here, so that was awfully nice of you to help out like that.”
“Oh.” Clint wasn’t sure how to respond. He had just wanted to make sure everything would be fine when Natasha came back. Not that he had any intention of letting her work the rest of the day. He could just imagine the look she’d give him if he ever said that to her. “I mean, it’s not a big deal. My girlfriend owns the place.”
The guy - Clint thought they’d met before, but couldn’t remember his name. Something with an S, maybe? - smiled at him and inclined his head towards the booth he and Natasha usually sat in. Without waiting to see if Clint would follow him, he turned and walked over, taking the seat Clint usually did. He had to wonder if that had been on purpose. Something about the smirk on the guy’s face - seriously, what was his name? Sam? - made him think it was.
He slid into the booth on Natasha’s side, unsure of what to expect. More than anything, he hoped she was okay. Or, if not okay, at least not alone.
He heard the other guy say something, but lost in his thoughts as he was, he hadn’t caught the words. Clint looked up, an apology on his lips, only to freeze when he saw the other guy wincing, a hand pressed against the side of his head. Knowing that if he was deaf, or at least partially deaf, he might not hear Clint if he didn’t get his attention first, he reached out and touched his wrist. “Hey, you okay?”
He blinked, looking startled. He smiled, maybe a little too quickly, and lowered his hand. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just hit my head a little earlier when…” He trailed off, looking sheepish. “Well. It was my fault, anyway.”
“I don’t think so. At least, not entirely. That guy with Tasha was your boyfriend, right? It kinda seemed like he had things under control or I would have tried to help.”
“Yeah, that was Bucky. He… well, he has some experience with PTSD, so I think that’s why he tried to help.” He started aimlessly tapping his fingers on the table, but didn’t seem to be aware of it. “I don’t think we’ve really talked before, so I’m Steve.”
“I knew it started with an S!”
Steve blinked, apparently shocked silent at the outburst.
Now it was Clint’s turn to smile sheepishly and rub the back of his neck. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to freak you out. I’m Clint.”
Steve laughed, which Clint took as a good sign. Hopefully the guy didn’t think he was just a random psycho Natasha had taken pity on and let hang around her. “That’s okay. You just startled me a bit.” He gestured to his ears, not quite meeting Clint’s gaze. “I’m partially deaf so sometimes loud noise startles me.”
“So am I. Well, not partially, but yeah. Deaf, I mean.” Clint had started signing without meaning to, but stopped when Steve smiled and signed, “It’s okay. I do it, too.”
When Clint looked up at him, Steve was smiling. And wow, he really liked that smile. It lit up his entire face and made Clint want to smile back. “You’re rambling.”
Clint felt his cheeks grow warm, but didn’t bother to move his hands from where they were under Steve’s. “I - uh, yeah. I do that sometimes.”
“I don’t mind. It’s nice to meet someone else who’s deaf.” He almost looked startled at his own words, but before Clint could agree with him, he was speaking again. “Not that that’s the only reason it’s nice to meet you! I just -”
Clint turned his hands and gently curled his fingers around Steve’s. “Hey, it’s okay. Breathe.” Once Steve took several deep breaths and appeared to have calmed down, Clint couldn’t help but smirk. “I see I’m not the only one guilty of rambling here.”
Now Steve was blushing, but the smile on his face made Clint think maybe he didn't mind the teasing so much. Of course, from what Clint knew about Steve's boyfriend, he probably got teased a lot.
Clint shot him a smile, hoping he would understand that Clint didn’t mean anything by it. He wasn’t sure what exactly was going on with Natasha since she wouldn’t talk to him, but he hoped that she was okay. Maybe he didn’t understand exactly what she was going through, but if the look in her eyes when she’d held that knife to Steve’s throat was any indication, she definitely had some form of PTSD. He hoped she would eventually talk to him, but from what he knew of her, he had a feeling she was more likely to bottle it up and pretend everything was fine.
He knew better than to push her to talk about something she didn’t want to face, but if they were going to try out this dating thing, they needed to talk. Maybe not about her nightmares, or whatever was going on with her, but about keeping secrets. Clint wasn’t about to stay with someone who was just going to lie to him, even if it was to protect him. It wasn’t like he didn’t have skeletons in his closet, either. Granted, he hadn’t mentioned any of them to her, either, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to open up to her.
He and Steve had lapsed into a comfortable silence, with Steve pulling out a mess of pens and pencils and what looked like a drawing pad out of the bag he carried with him while Clint sat there and drank his coffee. Before long, he found himself watching Steve draw, but couldn’t quite make out what it was he was sketching. He didn’t want to break his concentration and ask, either, but he couldn’t help but watch.
After a while - Clint wasn’t exactly sure how long, maybe a few minutes, but it could have been a lot longer considering how detailed Steve’s sketch was - the drawing began to resemble a very familiar redhead. Clint found himself thinking that Steve must have a pretty good memory to be able to draw Natasha from memory like that. Even if Clint could draw anywhere near as well as the other blond, his memory sucked on the best of days.
He dragged his gaze away from Steve and found himself staring down at the drawing decorating his wrist. This time it was of a puppy that Clint had to admit looked a bit like Lucky, surrounded by a bunch of flowers. Again, Clint had to wonder just who it was who was doing these drawings. It sure as hell wasn’t him and Natasha had just snorted and rolled her eyes when he’d asked if it was her. She didn’t seem thrilled at the idea of them having another soulmate, but she had been warming up to him. By this point, they had officially been dating for about two months and he was confident she didn’t hate him like he had originally thought, and was in fact starting to like him a lot more than she was comfortable with. He had never outright asked how she felt, but the way she looked at him was different than how she looked at everyone else.
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Clint turned his attention back to Steve and the drawing he was working on. It seemed he had decided to take a break for a moment and had vacated the table. Clint blinked in surprise at not having noticed his departure, but rolled his eyes at himself when Steve reappeared with two mugs in hand. He shot Clint a knowing smile as he sat the mug down in front of him.
“You seemed pretty lost in thought,” he said, a curious lilt to his voice. “Anything you’d like to talk about? For a deaf guy, I’m a pretty good listener.”
Clint had to crack a smile at the admittedly lame joke, even though he couldn’t say his jokes were any better. “It’s nothing, really. Just thinking about me and Natasha.”
Steve grinned and Clint almost started to regret saying anything. He was half-expecting an innuendo, but was pleasantly surprised when Steve said, “It has to be interesting, dating an assassin.”
Clint had just taken a drink of coffee and immediately choked on it, before somehow managing to swallow it before he leveled a “are you being serious right now” look at Steve. The little shit was just smiling innocently, like he hadn’t almost killed Clint.
“What?” Steve’s voice was nonchalant, his innocence way played up. Clint narrowed his eyes, but didn’t interrupt. “It’s a pretty popular rumor around here.”
Somehow Clint wasn’t surprised the rumor had made its way to Steve, but he would be surprised if Steve actually believed it. Although, Clint thought with no small amount of humor, he wasn’t sure it was entirely false, either. The way Natasha could sneak up on him like no one else or the way she sometimes looked at people like she could kill them with nothing more than her hands and pure annoyance made him think there was more to her than anyone thought.
“Don’t tell me you really believe that.”
Steve’s lips quirked in a sort of half smile at Clint’s words, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he just lifted his mug and took a drink. When he sat it down, Clint noticed a smudge of ink of Steve’s wrist. An awfully familiar smudge of ink that looked just like the smudge on his own wrist that had been a reminder to get some more dog treats for Lucky before he headed home for the day, but had been a casualty of the water he’d spilled on himself earlier.
Clint must have stared just a little too long, because Steve gave him a wry smile and turned his wrist over to let Clint see the word “treats” next to the smudge. Clint almost laughed at the irony of Steve being his soulmate as he stared at what was so obviously his handwriting. Instead of telling Steve outright, he reached over and plucked one of the pens out of the mess next to Steve’s drawing pad. Steve watched him with a curious look, but didn’t ask what Clint was up to.
The confusion in his gaze melted into a look of amazement as Clint drew a wobbly smiley face and the words “I can’t believe you can read my handwriting” on the palm of his left hand.
Steve stared at him for a long moment before he broke out into a wide grin and picked up another pen. He doodled a flower and another smiley face next to Clint’s nearly undecipherable message. “I could say your handwriting isn’t that bad, but I’d be lying.”
Clint rolled his eyes, but knew better than to try to convince him otherwise. He knew how bad his handwriting was. It was a miracle he could read it, let alone anyone else. Kate had teased him about what a travesty his inability to write notes people could actually read was so many times he had lost count.
Clint smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. “It’s a work in progress.”
Steve raised his eyebrows, seemingly surprised at the comment, but didn’t ask him to clarify. If anything, it was likely Steve knew there was no way Clint’s handwriting would ever get any better than it was now. It wasn’t like Clint had never tried to make it more readable before. It just wasn’t possible, especially when writing on your own skin.
Steve smiled, reaching over and placing his hand on Clint’s, squeezing his fingers before letting go and withdrawing his hand again. “I take it polyamory doesn’t phase you?”
The question didn’t surprise Clint, but he did stare at Steve in a sort of shock for a second. He had expected some kind of conversation about it, but maybe not just then. Steve almost looked like he was going to apologize and try to change the subject, but Clint quickly said, “No. I’ve never really considered it before, but it’s never bothered me. What about you?”
Steve shrugged, but he didn’t look uncomfortable. If anything, he looked relieved. Maybe he was as nervous as Clint was. “I’ve had relationships before. Nothing terribly serious, but, well. I knew I was poly before this.” He paused, the look in those blue eyes of his thoughtful. “I can’t say I know how Bucky or Natasha will react to this.”
Clint snorted before he could stop himself. “I don’t know about Bucky, but Natasha wasn’t exactly thrilled at having one soulmate. I can’t say what she’ll she say to having at least one more.”
Steve’s eyebrows drew together in what Clint thought had to be confusion. “We don’t know if Bucky is her soulmate. Or mine, for that matter.” Come to think of it, Clint thought, pausing for a long moment. “Actually, I think this only proves that Natasha and I, you and Bucky, and me and you are soulmates. I think we’d have to test it to be sure if all of us are.”
“Oh.” Steve spoke quietly, voice barely above a whisper. Maybe he hadn’t considered that as an option. To be fair, Clint hadn’t either until he’d thought about it. “Well, I guess we’ll have to find that out.”
“You’re taking this rather well.” Clint said quietly. He still wasn’t sure how he was feeling about it and could only guess how Natasha and Bucky would react. He wasn’t exactly optimistic.
Steve shrugged again, looking relaxed. “Well, we can’t change it. Might as well make the most of it.” He glanced back at his drawing pad then back at Clint. “Do you want to look at some of my drawings while we wait for Bucky and Natasha? No telling how long it’ll be.”
“Sure.” Clint agreed, more than a little curious. Plus, what Steve had said was true. Natasha had been pretty freaked out before. He had no idea how long it would be before she was ready to face anyone. He tried not to let it bother him that she was obviously okay with being around Bucky after an episode like that, but not him. “I gotta admit, I was wondering where these drawings were coming from.”
Steve tilted his head to the side, looking confused until Clint lifted his arm up to show Steve the doodle on his wrist. “Both Natasha and I have these, but we had no idea who was drawing them.”
Steve blushed, even the tips of his ears turning red as he recognized the drawing. “Oh. Well. I - um. I hadn’t expected three people to be seeing those drawings.” He fiddled with his pencil for a moment before he finally met Clint’s gaze. “I hope they didn’t bother you too much.”
Clint waved off his concern. “If you can put up with my random notes and Natasha’s weird Russian notes I think we can handle your cute little doodles. Besides,” Clint said with a smile. “I really like them.”
Clint hadn’t really helped with Steve’s blushing problem, but he couldn’t find it in him to mind when Steve looked so adorable sitting there stuttering so badly he had just given up and hid his head in his folded arms. Clint huffed out a laugh, before reaching over and taking Steve’s hand. “You don’t have to be so embarrassed.”
Steve muttered something that Clint thought sounded a lot like “someone kill me now”, but he couldn't be sure. His hearing aids helped a lot, but he still relied on lip reading and sign language more often than not.
It took a few minutes and a quite a bit of coaxing from Clint for Steve to finally calm down and hand over his sketch pad. Clint had to smile as he flipped through the drawings of Bucky, some dogs, and even a couple of him and Natasha. There were a few of people he didn’t recognize, but when he asked who they are, Steve was quick to tell him about his friends Sharon and Maria who were like family to him. He also flipped to a few of his sister and brother, telling Clint all he wanted to know about the people close to him.
Clint was still worried about Natasha, but he had to hope she was okay with Bucky. Meanwhile, he was having fun sitting there and talking to Steve. He didn’t know what was going to happen next, but it was enough just to enjoy the moment he was in.