Work Text:
Clint Barton whistles leisurely as he strolls along the hallway of the Avengers Mansion, stopping in front of a door to one of the many living rooms in the complex.
He’s had a long day, and he is ready to unwind with some good ol’ television.
When he turns the knob, however, he is greeted by the sight of Wanda, with one of her legs swung over the Vision. Clint does a doubletake, horrified by what he has walked into. The Vision is seated in an armchair, and Wanda has nuzzled close enough so that her forehead is touching his.
“Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Clint sputters out. “C’mon, you guys. Vizh, I know she’s your girlfriend, but you guys can’t just do stuff like that in the Avengers Mansion!”
"Wait," Wanda starts, frowning. Both of them are looking at Clint now, Wanda with her torso turned toward him. "This isn’t what you—"
"Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard it all before. Sheesh.” Clint turns on his heel and slams the door shut, grumbling darkly about “just wanted to watch some T.V.” and “can’t even get some peace around here”.
Behind him, Wanda and the Vision watch him leave, at a loss for words. The Vision struggles to right himself in the chair, and Wanda backs up to give him room. “He misunderstood,” the Vision says, after a moment. “I was just telling you about my day.”
It is just easier for him to show Wanda his day when he touches their foreheads together, because his recorded memories provide both visual and audio detail.
"Don’t worry about it." Wanda rolls her eyes. "Let Hawkeye think what Hawkeye wants. It’s not even like you can do that, so I don’t know what he’s blushing like a schoolgirl over."
The Vision blinks. “Well." He searches for the right words, and Wanda glances over, startled. "It is not like I am completely without—”
"Wait, what?”
“I am just trying to let you know that—”
Wanda hisses sharply. “Are you trying to say that you can have sex?”
There is a heavy silence which grows more pregnant with each passing moment. The Vision tries to say something, but he finds he cannot under her intense glare.
Finally: “I just assumed that you did not want to—”
“What? NO!”
More silence.
“W-Well, alright, then,” he stutters. “I—”
Wanda presses her lips into a thin line. “But you can’t have children. I mean, can you?”
“I am afraid not,” the Vision manages, shaking his head slowly.
She takes the news with some tension in her jaw, choosing to settle back into his embrace and rest her head against his chest. “I think you’d make a good father,” she says at last.
The Vision says nothing, but the base of his throat tightens. In his mind, he thinks he will lose her someday.
If he voices this aloud to her, she would chastise him for being “irrational” and “paranoid”, as she often does when he expresses his concerns regarding their relationship. But he will lose her someday, because here in front of him is a woman who deserves the world, and he did not have the world to give her. He could not even give her a normal, happy family.
He will lose her someday. But for now, he runs his fingers through her wild hair and pulls her closer to him, planting a kiss atop her head.