Work Text:
Clint had to admit, he didn't expect Pietro to figure it out as quickly as he had. Wanda had known almost instantly, he remember her asking about it one time, when Pietro had been out for a run. All the avengers had figured it out in their own way, but the Maximoff twins held the record for figuring it out the fastest. Even faster than Nat.
He noticed the way Pietro stared at him, tilting his head slightly, glancing at his ears. Clint knew that the new hearing aids Tony had made him were invisible, but it felt as though the speedster could see right through him.
As a younger agent, it had been a huge concern of Clint's. Sometimes, if he got knocked to hard around the head, the aid would fail, and he'd be left in the confusion of battle, his balance off from the sudden lack of information, unable to tell when someone was behind him.
So, Clint had trained harder, tried to compensate for his lack of hearing, should the event ever come where he lost his hearing for one reason or another. He trained harder than any other agent, but despite everything, before each mission he was pulled aside.
A careful, but not overly sensitive "Stay at the back Barton" every group mission.
Sick of being the weak link, he picked up a bow, something he hadn't spent a lot of time with, even growing up in a circus. But he had a natural talent, it seemed, and slowly, his orders changed from "stay back" to "knock 'em dead".
When he joined the avengers, it has been more explaining, as some of them began to figure it out for themselves, and Clint had thought it best he explained before they jumped to conclusions.
It had been Cap's idea to let the twins work it out themselves. After all, if they really weren't getting it, the archer could always just sit the two of them down and explain.
When Wanda figured it out almost immediately, it had been a rush of relief.
"My brother is stubborn," she'd explained "and he will soon notice somethings up. Let him work it out himself, he's not as thick headed as he may seem."
The reassurance was nice, and it allowed Clint to relax a little.
But one morning, he got a little too relaxed. He'd gone out on a mission two days prior, that had taken longer than expected. After 48 hours with minimal sleep, the archer had simply arrived back at the tower and collapsed into his bed.
When he woke in the morning, everything felt normal. He padded into the kitchen, well aware of the fact that it was nearly midday, and most of the other avengers were out and about. Grabbing some coffee from the almost constantly full pot, he popped some toast into the toaster, sipping from his favourite mug as he waited.
He should've known something felt not quite right; that even at that time of day, everything seemed uncommonly quiet. But he took no notice.
Absorbed in his thoughts, he jumped as someone rapped sharply on his shoulder. Pietro stood behind him, arms crossed, an irritated expression on his face.
"What?" He asked, before realising he couldn't hear his voice, just feel the vibrations the words made. He wondered, shocked, how long the speedster had been standing there.
Pietro started talk quickly, too fast for Clint to read what he was saying. The archer tried to signal for him to slow down, but Pietro took no notice.
Agitated, he clamped a hand over the kid's mouth, motioning for him to wait. Turning, he raced out of the kitchen, slowing to a jog as he reached his room. Sitting there, next to his bed, were his hearing aids; little refined devices that linked with the other's comms. Tony had designed them for him almost as soon as he found out.
Clint slipped them in, turning them on, relishing the rush of sound. Suddenly, the air felt less empty. He walked back to the kitchen, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.
"What the hell Barton?" Pietro asked angrily, eyes flashing.
"I try to talk to you, and you ignore me. I ask if you're okay, you ignore me. I tap you on the shoulder and ask if you're ignoring me on purpose, and you slap a hand over my mouth and race of of the room? Can I please get an explanation!" He growled.
Clint groaned, having not realised the archer had been standing behind him for that long.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you." Pietro scoffed, crossing his arms as he rolled his eyes.
"Oh, yeah, of course you couldn't."
"No, really. I must've been more tired than I thought; I was stupid and left my hearing aids in my room." The instant the words left his mouth, Peitro's eyes widened, a guilty looks crossing his face.
"Oh my god, I didn't realise!" He said, words rushing together. "No one said anything! I mean, ah, about you not, about you being, ah,"
Clint held up his hand, plopping down into the chair next to the White-haired man, who looked slightly embarrassed.
"I'm deaf, always have been. It's no big problem, but it's part of the reason why I don't like busy fights at close-quarters. It's more comfortable to attack from a distance, just in case I lose my hearing aids in a battle." He explained, trying to avoid making Pietro feel any more guilty than he already was.
"But... Does my sister know? Does everyone else know?" The speedster finally seemed to settle a little, reaching across to gulp down the rest of Clint's coffee. The archer glared playfully, snatching the cup back.
He got up, reaching over to the coffee machine to get more.
"Everyone knows. I told them when I first joined the team. Wanda figured it out pretty quickly. She said to let you figure it out yourself. I suppose I kinda did that for you though." Now it was Clint's turn to look embarrassed, as he smiled slightly at Pietro, who grinned back.
"Well, now that that is sorted out," he drawled with his thick sokovian accent. "I should probably inform you that your toast is burning."
At this, Clint jumped up, racing frantically across to the toaster, yelping as he pulled the charred pieces of bread from the machine's grip.
"Why didn't you say something?" He cried, flapping his arms frantically, having no intention of eating the toast anymore.
"I did. But you couldn't hear. So I decided not to tell you as punishment." Pietro smirked, reaching across Clint to pop fresh toast in.
This left the two pressed rather close together, as Clint tried to awkwardly move away.
"Well, you owe me now. I wanted to eat that toast." He sulked slightly, trying to put a bit of distance between him and speedy.
Instead, Pietro just leant over, pressing a quick kiss to the archer's lips.
"That about cover it?" He asked. Clint nodded mutely. Full on grinning now, Pietro murmured in his ear "bet you didn't see that coming", chuckling at his expression.
Clint, deciding that the toast (which had now re-emerged from the toaster, still slightly undercooked) could wait, grabbed Pietro's shirt, and kissed him, properly this time.
Pietro grinned, leaning his forehead's against Clint's.
"You should forget your hearing aids more often." He mumbled.
"Maybe I should." Clint agreed, and kissed him again.