Chapter Text
“Shit,” Bruce said as about fifty condoms tumbled out of his backpack and onto the ground.
He had originally intended to take zero condoms. It wasn’t that he wanted to practice unsafe sex, or that he wasn’t interested in sex in general. It was more about the fact that no one could ever want to have sex with him. He was the dweeby guy who read physics textbooks for fun. He was too skinny and too bony, and his glasses were too square and he knew that no one would ever look at him and think, yeah, I’d hit that.
But then the nice girl behind the counter had pointed out that he might know other people who may need protection only he could provide. So he’d grabbed a handful. Then he’d remembered he was roommates with Tony Stark and he filled his bag with them.
He’d managed to get halfway across the quad with his backpack clutched to his chest, feeling like he was smuggling drugs across the boarder and not just condoms to his dorm room. He’d been nervously watching for people who might notice his condom cartel when he’d tripped over a loose stone.
And his condoms had gone tumbling out in all directions.
Bruce dropped to the ground and grabbed for them, shoving strawberry-flavored and ribbed-for-her-pleasure and XXL-sized condoms back into his bag. He’d grabbed a variety and now he regretted it. He felt hot and embarrassed, like everyone was looking at him. Which they were.
“Need a hand?”
Bruce jumped and looked over the rim of his glasses at the only soul brave enough to approach him. The guy was grinning–not maliciously–and already kneeling down to help him pick up the condoms. He grabbed one that boasted it would glow in the dark.
“Interesting choice,” the guy said as he slipped it into Bruce’s bag.
“Uh,” Bruce said, wincing. “I didn’t choose them.”
“Oh?” The guy smirked at him.
“I mean.” Bruce felt himself flush. He felt as though he would never be able to pick them all up fast enough. “I just grabbed a bunch from Health Services. I wasn’t looking at them.”
“You got a good variety.” He picked up another one and studied it. Banana flavored. “You know you only wear one at a time, right?”
“I know that,” Bruce snapped. He tried to push aside the anger, but it was all wrapped up in his embarrassment. It wasn’t enough that he had to drop condoms all over the quad, but now he was being mocked for his inexperience. “They’re not for me,” he muttered.
“That’s cool.” They’d finally gotten them all back into Bruce’s bag, save for one. They guy studied it closely, squinting at the packaging.
Bruce watched him, growing more and more nervous by the second. “Listen, thanks,” he said suddenly. He stood quickly and got a head rush, but managed to stammer out, “I’ve gotta go. Important physics assignment due tomorrow, gotta study. Bye.”
The guy struggled to his feet, still holding the condom and looking confused, but Bruce was already booking it across the quad. He didn’t look back.
Tony laughed at him when he told the story, and Bruce chucked Trojans at his head until he stopped.
It was weeks later, and Bruce had almost forgotten about the incident. He was sitting on the lawn outside the physics building thumbing though The Structure of Scientific Revolutions when another body flopped down beside him.
“Hey,” said the guy from the Great Condom Avalanche of Last Semester.
“Oh no,” said Bruce.
He raised an eyebrow at him and smirked a little, still not unkind. “I didn’t get your name. I’m Clint.”
Bruce debated lying but he wasn’t that creative so in the end he said, “Bruce.”
“Bruce.” Clint said it like he was taking the word for a test-drive, seeing how it handled in his mouth and over his tongue. “I wanted to return this to you.” Suddenly the condom appeared in his hand, as if from thin air.
Bruce felt himself flush.
Before he could get a word in edgewise, Clint went on, speaking a little fast like he wanted to get all his lines out before he lost his nerve. “I’m not one for keeping things that don’t belong to me. But, I was wondering if you cared about the method of delivery?” He gave Bruce a meaningful look.
It took Bruce five painfully long seconds to figure it out, and even then he didn’t quite believe it. The guy was hitting on him.
Bruce opened his mouth and let out a little squeak. He tried to think of something witty to say, but what came out was, “You’ve carried that around since last semester?”
Clint frowned. “I mean. Yeah.”
“It’s probably no good anymore. That’s why you aren’t supposed to keep condoms in your wallet. They get creased and can tear more easily.”
Clint looked at the condom warily, like it had personally betrayed him. “I didn’t think of that.”
“You should have found someone to use it with,” Bruce told him.
“Well, I was gonna–I saw you around a few times, but…” He blushed suddenly and rubbed at his ear, the corner of the condom catching on his skin. “Took me a while to think of the perfect line.”
Bruce relaxed. At least he wasn’t the only awkward one in this situation. “Sorry I ruined it for you.”
“Is it ruined?” Clint grinned a little sheepishly.
Bruce considered. Clint was really quite handsome, but more than that he seemed just…nice. It took a strong person to help a nerd clean up his spilled condoms, and an even stronger person to be willing to embarrass himself in an attempt to ask that nerd out. “No,” Bruce said. “It’s not ruined. But maybe we should go for dinner first.”
Clint’s grin widened. “The cafeteria’s got pizza tonight.”
That startled a laugh out of Bruce. “Sounds perfect,” he said. And then, because he’d always wanted to say it, “It’s a date.”
Clint groaned and rolled his eyes, but he was still grinning.