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Clint doesn't really know who Bruce is. Well, he knows WHO he is, but not much about him besides the fact that he turns into the hulk and is Nobel peace prize smart. The others trust Bruce, so Clint does too. He doesn't say much to Bruce, except a "good morning" or "excuse me" here and there.
Clint likes to sleep during the day and keep watch over the tower at night. This is a sleep schedule he's grown accustomed to from many recon missions in his time as a SHIELD agent. He wanders the tower, checks the security camera footage, and re-strings his bow and organizes his arrows.
Every night like clockwork, he pauses at 3am to fix himself a snack.
This night, Clint enters the kitchen to find someone else in the refrigerator already.
Clint automatically draws an arrow and loudly asks, "Who are you?"
Bruce peeks his head up from fridge door and raises his hands slowly.
"It's just me, Bruce. I didn't realize you owned sole territory of the kitchen between the hours of midnight and 6am."
Clint's lips twitch, resisting a smile. "I'm not used to people being up when I am." He lowers his bow and turns on the lights.
"Mind telling me what you're doing up?"
Bruce shrugs as he pulls out leftover rice and lamb curry on naan. "Sometimes I have bad dreams and I can't sleep."
Clint snorts. "Yeah, I know what you mean. But I just wake up and roll over."
Bruce smiles sadly. "I wish it were that easy for me. I was plagued with a conscience and moral compass."
Clint nods and starts a pot of coffee. They sit and eat in silence, and Clint appreciates it because the silence is what he's used to. He would hate it if Bruce tried to force conversation, but instead Bruce simply eats, sits quietly until the first peak of dawn, and then goes to his room again.
Clint calls it a night when he hears Steve approaching. Steve is still stuck on military time, which is a good indicator for Clint to know when to sleep. He retires to his room and tries not to think about what could possibly be bothering Bruce at night.
After their first encounter, Clint finds Bruce in the kitchen again and again. It goes on for two weeks until during one of their silent meals, Clint pulls out a small box and places it on the table.
Bruce looks up curiously. "What's that?"
"It's a nightlight," Clint smirks. "Maybe you'll be able to get some sleep. It was that or a stuffed animal."
Bruce chuckles quietly and opens the box to examine the light. It's a small lava lamp with green liquid and glitter inside.
Bruce looks up and sees Clint trying not to laugh. Smiling, Bruce says, "I'll use it tomorrow. If it works, you might make a great father one day. I'll be sure to pass that along to Natasha."
Clint sputters and chokes on his coffee.
The next night, Clint doesn't see Bruce. Clint knows about Bruce's tendency to run away, so he sneaks up the stairs to Bruce's room.
Inside, a green light glows, casting shadows across Bruce's sleeping face. Clint notices how rested he looks and slowly closes the door behind him.
He makes a mental note to buy a stuffed animal the next day.