fic: This city never sleeps at night (Clint/Bruce/Tony)
This city never sleeps at night
Clint/Bruce/Tony | Sleepy Cuddles | 566 words | For devilswhore-x
Title from Imagine Dragons' It's Time.
Bruce doesn't like waking up alone in the middle of the night.
Bruce was used to going to bed alone. Tony and him kept strange hours, and Clint was away half the time on missions for shield. He was used to it.
Waking up alone was different. The bed was always cold were he wasn't lying, and it was impossible to move without touching all the cold spots. Bruce pulled his sleeves over his hands and curled into himself, trying to find warmth but it was no use.
So he slipped out of bed, into a robe and his slippers, and made his way to the roof. Clint was supposed to return today, but he liked to spend his first night back on the roof, watching the city lights. It was almost sunrise though, and the lights would soon be gone.
He pulled his robe closer to himself, steeled himself for the cold and stepped outside. Clint was perched on a strangely shaped machine, his hand loosely curled around his bow and his eyes closed.
“Clint,” Bruce whispered. When there was no reply he reached out and gently touched his arm. “Let’s go to bed.”
The moment his hand made contact with Clint’s bare arm, Clint’s hand tightened around his bow and his eyes were wide open. When he realised it was Bruce he relaxed slightly.
“Hey, jade jaws,” he said, voice hoarse, lightly stepping down and pressing his lips to Bruce’s jaw.
“Where’s Tony?” he asked, tangling his fingers in Bruce’s and letting himself be pulled downstairs and into the elevator.
“In the workshop,” Bruce said, “you go on to bed, I’ll bring him and we’ll follow you.”
Clint seemed to consider it, but then shook his head and squeezed Bruce’s fingers. “I’ll come with you.”
The stepped out of the elevator and meandered their way to Tony’s workshop.
“Hey,” Tony said distractedly when he saw them coming in, “I didn’t know you were back, what time is it?”
“Time for bed,” Bruce said.
“I’ll be right there,” Tony said, “I just have to finish this-” He was already turning back to his bench.
“No, no,” Clint said, “we’ve heard that before.”
Bruce reached out with his free hand and grabbed Tony’s shoulder, dragging him away, chair and all. Tony finally got up and pulled free, only to wrap his arms around Clint’s waist. “You know, at least when I fall asleep I have the decency to do it in doors.”
Clint smiled tiredly but didn’t argue. Instead he took one of Tony’s hands and let Bruce lead them to their bedroom.
“Jarvis,” Bruce called out to the AI, “no interruptions unless it’s an emergency.”
“And Thor being out of pop-tarts is not an emergency,” Clint said, sliding into bed first, pulling Bruce in after him, and Tony nestled himself right behind Bruce, putting an arm around Bruce so he could rest a hand on Clint’s waist.
Bruce wrapped his fingers around Clint’s wrist under the covers so he could feel the steady thump-thump of Clint’s heartbeat, and at the same time the reassuring pressure of the arc reactor on his back.
He was asleep soon after. When he woke up the next morning, they’d managed to get even more tangled up. Clint’s mouth was hanging open and Tony’s face was pressed into Bruce’s shoulder, his hand clenched in Clint’s shirt, effectively trapping Bruce between them. He wasn’t even sure which legs were his. It was perfect.
Clint/Bruce/Tony | Sleepy Cuddles | 566 words | For devilswhore-x
Title from Imagine Dragons' It's Time.
Bruce doesn't like waking up alone in the middle of the night.
Bruce was used to going to bed alone. Tony and him kept strange hours, and Clint was away half the time on missions for shield. He was used to it.
Waking up alone was different. The bed was always cold were he wasn't lying, and it was impossible to move without touching all the cold spots. Bruce pulled his sleeves over his hands and curled into himself, trying to find warmth but it was no use.
So he slipped out of bed, into a robe and his slippers, and made his way to the roof. Clint was supposed to return today, but he liked to spend his first night back on the roof, watching the city lights. It was almost sunrise though, and the lights would soon be gone.
He pulled his robe closer to himself, steeled himself for the cold and stepped outside. Clint was perched on a strangely shaped machine, his hand loosely curled around his bow and his eyes closed.
“Clint,” Bruce whispered. When there was no reply he reached out and gently touched his arm. “Let’s go to bed.”
The moment his hand made contact with Clint’s bare arm, Clint’s hand tightened around his bow and his eyes were wide open. When he realised it was Bruce he relaxed slightly.
“Hey, jade jaws,” he said, voice hoarse, lightly stepping down and pressing his lips to Bruce’s jaw.
“Where’s Tony?” he asked, tangling his fingers in Bruce’s and letting himself be pulled downstairs and into the elevator.
“In the workshop,” Bruce said, “you go on to bed, I’ll bring him and we’ll follow you.”
Clint seemed to consider it, but then shook his head and squeezed Bruce’s fingers. “I’ll come with you.”
The stepped out of the elevator and meandered their way to Tony’s workshop.
“Hey,” Tony said distractedly when he saw them coming in, “I didn’t know you were back, what time is it?”
“Time for bed,” Bruce said.
“I’ll be right there,” Tony said, “I just have to finish this-” He was already turning back to his bench.
“No, no,” Clint said, “we’ve heard that before.”
Bruce reached out with his free hand and grabbed Tony’s shoulder, dragging him away, chair and all. Tony finally got up and pulled free, only to wrap his arms around Clint’s waist. “You know, at least when I fall asleep I have the decency to do it in doors.”
Clint smiled tiredly but didn’t argue. Instead he took one of Tony’s hands and let Bruce lead them to their bedroom.
“Jarvis,” Bruce called out to the AI, “no interruptions unless it’s an emergency.”
“And Thor being out of pop-tarts is not an emergency,” Clint said, sliding into bed first, pulling Bruce in after him, and Tony nestled himself right behind Bruce, putting an arm around Bruce so he could rest a hand on Clint’s waist.
Bruce wrapped his fingers around Clint’s wrist under the covers so he could feel the steady thump-thump of Clint’s heartbeat, and at the same time the reassuring pressure of the arc reactor on his back.
He was asleep soon after. When he woke up the next morning, they’d managed to get even more tangled up. Clint’s mouth was hanging open and Tony’s face was pressed into Bruce’s shoulder, his hand clenched in Clint’s shirt, effectively trapping Bruce between them. He wasn’t even sure which legs were his. It was perfect.