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Tony
Okay, so it wasn’t Clint’s fault that he had found a ceiling vent. They were everywhere in the Tower! And could you really blame him if he popped off the grate and climbed in? Clint just so happened to like small spaces (they’d become a comfort space, ever since he was young) and the vents were perfect.
Clint spent the next few hours exploring the vents. He had caught some weird looks up towards the grates in R&D but he kept moving forward. By sheer luck, Clint found the vent that led him down to Starks private lab where he worked on personal projects. He looks around the room from his small perspective of it, trying to find Stark.
Oh well, he can’t see him from here. Maybe Clint will just make a surprise appearance. He stretches out his arms, reaches forward and slams on the vent grate. It clatters to the floor loudly, making Tony startle and jump away from his work. Clint smirks and waits for him to come over to investigate.
Tony gets up, looks at the grate on the floor and moves to pick it up.
And that’s when Clint drops down. Giving Tony the fright of his life.
“Barton! Jesus fucking H Christ!” Tony literally looks like a cat about to jump five feet in the air and race away as fast as possible.
Clint looks up. “Oh hey, Stark.” He greets casually.
Tony sits down on a stool that’s next to a work table, head in his hands and trying to calm his breathing. Clint feels a twinge of guilt.
“Are you okay?” He asks, just to be sure.
Tony looks up and glowers at him. “Am I okay? Am I- no, I’m not okay! Agent Clint fucking Barton is crawling around in my fucking vents!” He presses his hands against his face. Clint winces.
“Sorry. I didn’t—“ He tries to apologise but Stark cuts him off.
Tony shakes his head. “What’re you even doing in the vents anyway?” He curiously asks with a head tilt.
Clint pauses for a moment before replying. Tony doesn’t seem to notice. “Scoping out good nap spots, duh.” He says, rolling his eyes. He’d never let the real reason get out.
He doesn’t realise his breathing has sped up slightly until Tony’s gentle hand is patting his shoulder. Clint forces himself to calm down.
Tony chuckles. “Okay, Barton. Whatever you say. But if you do that to me again you’ll have to make your own suit and gear upgrades for a month.” He pats his shoulder.
Clint’s mouth gapes open. “Wha- okay fine. That’s fair game, I guess. You got yourself a deal, Stark.” Clint holds out his hand for Tony to shake it and he does.
“Pleasure doing business with you, Agent.” Tony nods his head.
“As with you, Stark.” Clint nods his head back in an appreciative gesture.
And with that, Clint climbs back into the vents to figure out where everything else leads.
Steve
The next time Clint comes across an Avenger while in the vents is in the training gym at four in the morning.
Steve Rogers is throwing his shield against the walls, running around and doing epic flips to catch it. It looks pretty flawless but every now and then, Steve falls and his shield crashes on top of him. He’ll groan, mutter an ‘ow’, and lie on the floor a bit more before getting up again.
Clint would hate to admit that it is pretty impressive. And he would hate to cut Captain America’s training session short, but he just can’t get the image of Steve scared for his life out of his head. So, quietly, Clint pulls the vent grate off and shoves it behind him.
He drops to the floor with a thud but times it right so the sound is covered when Steve’s shield hits the wall again. Clint smirks, thank god there’s a training course in here or he’d be found already.
The lights aren’t even on in the gym, so Clint moves around the shadows. And suddenly Steve’s eyes land directly on him. Clint freezes, staring back and holding his breath.
Steve can most definitely hear his heartbeat. Clint stays impossibly still. Steve shrugs and goes back to throwing his shield around. Clint almost sighs loudly in relief but holds back and moves further into the shadows, closer to his teammate.
He moves slowly, like a predator creeping up on their prey.
When Steve has his back turned, waiting for his shield to come back using the magnets on his arm (and defying all laws of physics in the process), Clint strikes. He practically jumps on Steve and they both tumble to the floor.
“Clint, you—!” Steve yells, surprised, on top of Clint. The man under him smirks as Steve fumbles to figure out how he got in without using the door. “Where..where did you come from?” He questions, getting up and holding out his hand for Clint to take.
He accepts the help and lets Steve pull him up. “The door, where else?” Clint fires back.
Steve frowns. “I would’ve heard you come in, and I would’ve seen the light from the hallway.”
Clint throws his hands up dramatically. “Alright, alright, you caught me. I came in through the vents.”
“The vents.” Steve parrots slowly. “Are you serious?” He inquires, genuinely wanting to know.
“JARVIS, lights at fifteen percent.” Clint requests. JARVIS, the saint that he is, turns on the lights slightly. Clint throws an arm around Steve’s shoulder and points up at the vent where there is no grate. “See.” He says as he points it out.
Steve squints his eyes and then he sees it. It looks like an invitation to the void. “Wow, thats…impressive, Barton.”
Clint smiles and turns to Steve. “Thanks, Rogers.” He says, patting him on his shoulder.
“Care to join me?” Steve invites him.
“I’d love to, Cap.” Clint nods and accepts the invitation.
That’s how they spend their early morning. Then Steve takes Clint on a six o’clock run around Central Park and laps him several times over. But Clint can’t find it in himself to regret it at all.
Thor
Clint was relaxing in the ceiling vent, right next to the grate that was in the Avengers communal living room. It was finally quiet and—
And then he heard the sound of voices alongside booming footsteps.
So much for peace and quiet.
Thor and Steve enter the room, flopping down on the couch together. Tony then strolls in, loudly exclaiming how the two ‘old men’ needed to be educated on the movies and music they’d missed out on. Steve especially, but Tony dragged Thor into it.
Clint quietly mumbles something inaudible. If Tony was to be involved in this, it would take forever for this catching up session to be over with. He didn’t want to go anywhere else, though, because this was one of his favourite spots. So instead of complaining, Clint settled in to listen to the three men and the TV.
After a while, Clint started dozing. He tried to fight off sleep. He’d accidentally fell asleep once in the vents and woke up with a stiff body. Clint wasn’t about to let that happen again. But it would be so easy to give in and just rest…
Before his brain has processed it, Clint was leaning back to lie down. What he forgot was that the vent grate was right there. And that they couldn’t support much weight. Clint’s eyes snap open the moment he and the vent grate fall onto the floor. He sits up quickly when he realises the vent grate was weak and he’d fallen down alongside it. Clint groans, burying his face in his hands.
The movie on the TV pauses as three pairs of eyes are on him. Staring.
“Barton? What the—“ Steve starts saying, though Clint pushes himself to his feet and rubbing his eyes before he can say anything further.
“You need stronger vents, Stark.” Clint grumbles as he walks towards the elevator.
Tony nods at him, giving a thumbs up. “Thanks for telling, I’ll get on it Bird Brain.”
Clint, in return, gives him a thumbs up too.
Thor watches the entire ordeal with his mouth open, gaping like a fish. He turns back to the two men. “What just happened?” He asks.
Tony waves it off. “Ah, just Birdie there falling outta the vents. What an idiot.” He huffs in amusement. Maybe he’ll tell Nat about that. It was quite funny.
Steve glares at him but Tony ignores him by unpausing the TV. Thor is still extremely confused.
Natasha
Clint smirks as he crawls through the vents to the communal living area, where Natasha said she’d be. He was silent as he moved. When Clint had settled himself into a comfortable position, Natasha spoke up.
“You wanna go grab lunch, or…” She trailed off, making vague hand gestures.
Clint huffed. She always knew. Well, it wasn’t like she also weren’t an assassin that knew of his tactics.
Below him, Natasha rolls her eyes. “Is that a yes or a no?” She asks, not even putting her book down.
Before he can respond, Bruce walks in. “Who are you talking to?” He says in greeting as he moves into the kitchen.
“The ghosts that haunt me.” Natasha deadpans and Bruce can’t tell if she’s joking.
Bruce blinks. “Okay…” He drags out after grabbing a snack, making a coffee and then retreating.
Finally, after he’s gone, Natasha flips to the next page and puts the open book face down onto the table. She tips her head back to look up through the vent grate. “Well?” Natasha raises an eyebrow.
Clint huffs again. He hasn’t eaten since breakfast. It sounds tempting, an offer he can’t resist. “Fine, but only if you’re buying.” Clint says before pulling the grate off and hopping down gracefully.
Natasha gives him a small smirk, it’s smug and the one she likes to use on him to tell him she’s got her way. Clint forces down the urge to roll his eyes as they walk to the elevator.
“Do I always have to bribe you with food?” Natasha questions conversationally once inside the elevator.
Clint smiles at her. “Yes, food is the way to my heart.”
The elevator dings and the doors slide open on the ground floor. “No, food is the way to get you out of the damn vents, Barton.” Natasha says, walking out of the elevator and leaving Clint behind. He catches up easily.
“So is a good place to sleep. The vents aren’t that comfortable.” Clint shrugs as they make their way outside.
Natasha pokes his arm. “They’re not designed for comfort, Clint.”
“Which is exactly why I hang out there. Who would put themselves through discomfort just to be alone?” It’s a rhetorical question.
Natasha answers anyway. “You, that’s who.”
“You know me so well, Tasha.” Clint pats her shoulder. Natasha rolls her eyes and leads them through the streets of New York.
Bruce
Bruce’s encounter with Nat yesterday was, to say the least, strange. It was almost as if she were talking to herself and he wondered if that were the case at all. But it wasn’t his place to assume, so he kept quiet.
All day, Bruce had been in his lab, trying to execute some experiment. Tony has been in and out, he seems to be all over the place today. Normally he’d stay in one place and not move for hours. Bruce wonders why he hasn’t been, though he doesn’t push it when he does see Tony.
Three o’clock in the afternoon rolls around and Bruce emerges from the lab to grab something to eat. There’s no one in the communal kitchen when he gets there. However, Clint comes out of nowhere once he starts fixing himself a sandwich.
Clint stops upon seeing Bruce, then strides forward as if he hadn’t faltered. “Hey, Bruce.” He greets with an easy smile, pulling a mug from the cupboard and making himself a coffee.
“Hi Clint. What’ve you been up to lately? I haven’t seen you around much.” Bruce returns the smile, pulling some ingredients out of the fridge.
Waving a hand around, Clint hops onto the counter and swings his legs back and forth. “Oh you know, the usual.” He dismisses, grabbing the coffee pot and pouring it into the mug.
“Right. Well, I’ll see you around.” Bruce says as he leaves, taking a plate with his sandwich back to the lab.
Clint smirks, sliding off the counter and going to the vent he came out of.
Bruce munches on his sandwich away from his experiment when he gets back to the lab. Unknown to him, Clint lays in the vent above, a mug of coffee with him.
Tony walks in, mumbling about something. Both of them perk up, Bruce swivelling around to face Tony. He smiles as he walks past. Tony sits down without a word to him, which is unusual but not totally out of the blue.
Tony shuffles around some papers, studying them for a couple of minutes before getting up and walking out. Bruce watches him go.
Bruce finishes his sandwich, puts on his lab coat and goes over to his experimentation area. Clint can already tell this won’t end well.
Bruce checks the labels of different chemicals, double checks his equation and mixes them together. He leans back, watching as the chemicals don’t do anything. He doesn’t dare get closer, just in case—
The beaker the mixture had been sitting in explodes, glass flying everywhere. Bruce’s arm comes up to protect his face as he stumbles backwards. Clint watches, mouth gaping open.
When the dust settles, Clint pulls the grate off and drops down. “Bruce! Are you okay?” He says as he checks the man over.
Bruce drops his arm back to his side. “Yeah, I’m…fine. How did you—“ He points at Clint and then vaguely where the door is.
“Don’t worry about that. Are you sure you’re okay? That was quite the explosion.” Clint waves off his questioning, instead trying to make sure his friend is okay.
Bruce stands there for a moment, trying to register any pain. “I’m okay, Clint. Really. Thanks for your concern.” He pats Clint’s shoulder.
“Just..doing my job. I’ll be on my way now.” Clint smiles, pulling away.
Bruce nods. “Of course.”
But instead of making his way to the door, like a normal person, Clint gets on the counter behind him and pulls himself into the vent.
“Wha— Clint.” Bruce says, almost frozen in shock.
“Hmm?” Clint hums, clambering up there like it’s second nature.
Bruce is speechless and has to wrack his brain for words to say. “Is that how you got in?”
“Yup, gotta go now. Bye Bruce.” Clint waves as he puts the grate back on and disappears.
Huh. So that’s who Natasha was talking to yesterday. Bruce shakes his head fondly, going to get a broom to clean up the glass.