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Tree House
A tree house, a free house
A secret you and me house
A high up in the leafy branches
Cozy as can be house
A street house, a neat house
Be sure and wipe your feet house
Is not my kind of house at all -
Let’s go live in a tree house.
-Shel Silverstein
Starting things has always been hard for Clint. He remembered being five and staring at his kindergarten teacher as she asked him to write out his name. All the other children around him were busily putting curves and lines on their papers. He picked up his pencil, trying to get familiar with the new shape (he and Barney had a couple broken crayons and some dried up markers) and the teacher snapped, “Not like that!” And Clint put it down again.
This wasn’t the same (he knows it’s not the same), but that feeling of that he might do it all wrong was still there, freezing up his insides. He was standing in a toy store, where Steve had brought him to pick some new things out. It was only their third time playing, because things had been hard, at first. Plus Steve said he needed more toys. Clint had been excited all week, struggling to hold on to even a little bit of big control and thinking of all the things he wanted, that he’d always wanted.
But now that he was there it all felt really overwhelming. He kind of wished he had his blankie.
Steve had found a toy store outside of the city, in a small town where people were less likely to recognize them. Steve had borrowed a SHIELD car and had driven them out that morning. He’d made Clint sit in the back like a real little boy. Clint had pouted for the first half hour. At the moment, Clint could see Steve across the center of the room, picking out some books. He had encouraged Clint to go look at whatever caught his eye and promised to stay close and Clint had taken off, eager and excited.
But now he wanted Steve.
It took Clint a minute to realize that he could go get Steve. That Steve was...his...his Daddy now, never mind that Clint had not yet worked up the courage to call Steve that to his face. Quickly, Clint found his way over to Steve. The store was pretty empty, though the owner seemed to be setting up for a story reading. Clint kinda wished they could stay for that.
“Hey, bud.” Steve smiled down at him. The smile made the nervous butterflies in Clint’s stomach die down a bit. “How’s it goin’?”
“I can’t pick,” Clint whispered. “It’s hard.”
Steve set down the stack of books he had and gave Clint a thoughtful little frown.
“You know whatever you want is fine, right?”
Clint nodded and grabbed the edge of his t-shirt for something to do with his hands. (Sometimes when he was really little he liked to suck his thumb, but Steve didn’t know that, and Clint couldn’t do that here anyway.)
“Alright, why don’t we go look together, okay?” Clint nodded eagerly. Without thinking he slipped his hand into Steve’s. Steve paused for a moment but just as Clint was about to pull his hand back, Steve squeezed Clint’s hand and smiled at him.
The toys weren’t quite as overwhelming when Steve was right there and holding his hand, Clint found. Steve picked out some more legos, ‘cause he hadn’t thought Clint had enough. After that Clint discovered a set of dinosaurs which were pretty much the coolest thing ever. And then it got easy.
Steve let him get a lot of toys. Pretty much any toy that Clint looked at with even the slightest amount of interest, Steve grabbed to set in their ever growing pile. Eventually Steve drew a halt to the shopping, though. Little kids were starting to come in for the reading and Steve said they had to get back to the tower for lunch.
“Why don’t you go listen to the story while I get your toys?” Steve suggested quietly, gently pushing Clint in that direction. Clint did want to listen to the story. He crept up behind the circle of kids and leaned against the bookshelf, trying to look casual, like maybe he was someone’s daddy or uncle.
The reader did voices. It was awesome. It was so awesome that Clint didn’t realize that Steve had finished buying the toys and the stack of books from earlier and had come up beside him.
“Did you like the story, bud?” Steve asked, taking Clint’s hand again. Clint swung it happily between them.
“Uhuh. He did silly voices!”
“Oh, he did?”
“Yeah!” Clint continued to chatter about the story, which had been about a dragon who wasn’t very scary and wished he was, all the way to the car. Steve didn’t tell him to be quiet even one time.
After Steve had loaded the trunk with Clint’s new toys (they almost didn’t fit!) Clint leaned up into Steve’s space. Steve didn’t hesitate in giving him a hug.
“Thank you Daddy,” He whispered.
Steve beamed and it was like the sun coming out. Steve gave the best hugs in the world, because he could fold his whole body around Clint’s, which made him feel like the world couldn’t touch him at all.
Steve helped him buckle in and even gave Clint a couple of his new dinosaurs to play with. All said and done, Clint was feeling pretty little by the time they took off. For a while, he was immersed in narrating his game to Steve, who still didn’t tell him to shut up.
But then he realized he sorta had to pee.
Recently sorta had to pee could turn into really had to pee very fast. Clint didn’t know what do. He was embarrassed - he should be able to wait until they got back to the tower but he also really, really didn’t want to wet himself, because this day had been so perfect and that would definitely ruin it. Steve had been really nice about his accidents, but Clint didn’t want to risk it. But that meant he had to tell Steve.
Clint remembered telling his pop he had to pee in the car once. It had been the middle of the night, because they were moving again, because pop thought he could find better work somewhere else. Clint had been little, he didn’t know how little, but pretty little. His pop had yelled at him to shut his trap and hold it and that he better not piss in the car . But Clint was little and he couldn’t hold it and he had, and pop had taken him out of the car and walloped him with his belt right there.
Steve and he hadn’t talked about spanking. Clint was good . He didn’t want to be spanked. He realized he was shaking and Steve was calling his name.
“Clint, bud, you alright? Clint?”
“M’okay,” Clint muttered, but he wasn’t.
“You don’t sound okay. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on, huh? I’ll help make it better.”
Clint started to cry and he still needed the bathroom.
“I’m gonna pull over,” Steve said softly.
“No! Don’t! I’ll be good, please I don’t need the belt, I promise I don’t. Please, I’ll be good.” A moment later, Steve was pulling him out of the car. Clint thrashed and cried and begged, even though he knew it was bad and that he was supposed to take a spanking quietly and not make a scene. They were still in the middle of nowhere, though, because Steve had driven them out into the country. Clint could only see two other cars.
Steve didn’t hit, he hugged.
Clint cried and cried and cried, but Steve didn’t tell Clint that he was a big baby or a sissy or anything. He just held him and rocked him side to side and whispered that it was all going to be alright.
Finally, Clint calmed and collapsed into Steve. Steve gathered him up and sat on the edge of the back seat with him. When Steve picked him up like that it made Clint feel so small and safe.
“Clint, why did you think I was going to hit you?” Steve asked. He was rubbing Clint’s back, which felt nice, and his hands were gentle, not hitting. Clint couldn’t remember people touching him like this when he was actually little.
“Pop did,” Clint said, which he never ever said to anyone, not even Phil. Phil knew. But not because Clint told him. “With the belt a lot. And we didn’t talk about spanking. I dunno, I thought if I was bad you might spank me ‘cause people hit bad little boys.” Steve’s chest made a funny little motion, sort of like he hiccoughed.
“You’re not a bad little boy, Clint. You’re a wonderful little boy, and I am never ever going to hit you.”
“No spanking?” Clint asked, voice a little incredulous.
“No spanking.” Steve said firmly, in his Captain America voice. Clint believed him when he said things in that voice. And in his regular voice, because Steve had never lied to him.
Steve shifted Clint in his lap to cuddle him closer and Clint suddenly remembered what had gotten him so upset in the first place. He had to pee.
“Steve,” He whispered. Steve brought his ear down to Clint’ mouth, which was nice, cause this was embarrassing and Clint didn’t want to say it too loud. “Steve I gotta go .”
“Go?” Steve asked, sounding confused. But then his whole body jerked. “Oh, go. Uh, right now?”
Clint nodded.
“There’s no bathroom, but you can go behind that bush.” Clint looked up. It was a big bush, no one would see him from the road. He was a boy, so he could pee outside if he wanted. He’d done it before, when he was big and when he was really a kid.
“‘Kay,” Clint agreed, scrambling to his feet and rushing behind the bush. His pants were kinda tricky and his legs were kinda dancy, but he got the button and zipper and pushed them down under his bum to pee. He got a little on his shoe, but he didn’t get his pants wet.
As soon he was done, he rushed back to Steve. Steve had pulled out some hand sanitizer from somewhere and helped Clint clean his hands.
“Good job,” Steve said, voice warm. Clint’s chest and face got all warm too, because someone shouldn’t have to say good job for a big boy getting to the bathroom, but it felt good too. And Steve knew that Clint sometimes had trouble and he’d never been mad. Not even this time, when Clint had to pee behind a bush cause he couldn’t hold it.
Steve even helped him buckle in again and gave him a kiss on his forehead .
It was a really, really good day, Clint decided, picking up his dinosaurs again.
*
Clint had wanted to play some more when they got back, but Tasha had been back early and JARVIS had told them that she needed Steve right away for some SHIELD things. Clint had gotten all fidgety and embarrassed, because he wasn’t hardly a SHIELD agent anymore. Steve had given him another wonderful hug and had told him not to worry.
Clint tried, when he was back in his room, but it wasn’t easy. Steve had taken him off SHIELD missions almost a month ago, though Clint still got to do some missions with Tasha and Steve promised that he wanted Clint back as an active agent and that he would help him train until he was ready again.
Clint still felt half way between little and big when Steve came to see him an hour later.
“Hey Clint, how you doing?” Steve asked. He had a couple of the bags from the store, which he put by Clint’s couch. Clint kinda shrugged. Steve hugged him again and then Clint did feel a little better.
“Look, this is terrible timing, but I have to go on a mission with Natasha for a couple days.” Clint’s heart sank. It was terrible timing. They had been going to try their first long scene this weekend. Clint was even going to stay the night at Steve’s. “I promise we will reschedule as soon as I get back. I brought most of your new stuff up to my rooms, like we talked about. And I know you don’t like to be little on your own and I don’t want you to be little on your own, but I thought I would leave a couple things here...just in case.” Steve rubbed his hand through his hair sheepishly.
Clint nodded. His throat felt a little too choked up to talk. He wished he was going on the mission with Steve and Tasha. He wished Steve didn’t have to and could stay here.
“I wish I didn’t have to go,” Steve admitted, giving Clint another one of those giant hugs. “I was really looking forward to this weekend. But I’ll be back soon, alright.”
“Yeah.” Clint said. Before he had a chance to try and say anything else, JARVIS was calling for Steve and he was rushing out the door with a hurried goodbye. He left Clint feeling a little empty and confused.
He didn’t want to be little, but he still kind of was. Clint sighed and rubbed his face. Maybe some sleep would help things shift back. He didn’t have that much practice shifting back and forth, but sleep seemed like it might help in that moment. At the very least, it would give him a break before he had to deal with whatever feelings he was having about Steve leaving.
Still stuck between headspaces, Clint collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep.
He woke up wet, because when didn’t he these days, but big. He showered before piling the linens up in a basket to take to Steve’s lat-
Whenever Steve gets back from his mission, Clint corrected, remembering why he’d been asleep in the middle of the day. He sighed and wandered into the main area of his rooms, scrounging some left over pizza that still looked edible and putting on some horrible cable reality tv show.
It might have been okay, if Steve had been gone just a couple days, like he said. But he was gone a week and a half, and nobody really knew anything, because none of the rest of them talked to SHIELD. The others kept asking him, but Clint didn’t know, okay, because he was a no good stupid piece of shit who couldn’t even kill people properly anymore and of course Steve had left because everybody fucking did.
It was just that he hadn’t been alone with this in a long time, not with the wet sheets (and the wet pants that he pretended didn’t happen), or the aching loneliness of Phil being gone, or the way the world felt so much more now, like someone had turned up the volume 100%. It was shitty, being alone with it. Steve hadn’t known the whole time, but he’d starting to figure out how bad things were, and he listened to things that Clint had never wanted to talk about with anyone, and he was just there, okay , he was just there as Clint’s entire life fell the fuck apart. And Steve was like a fucking anchor, nothing seemed to budge him. It wasn’t like Natasha, who was like a piece of clay and could change into whatever she needed to be. Or Phil, who’d been like a river - he kept going and he changed Clint before Clint knew he was changing, and he was wonderful and strong, but he’d run faster than Clint could keep up. Steve just stayed. He just was. He was as unchangeable as the sun or the earth or the stars.
By the end of the week and a half, Clint’s apartment was a mess. He was out of sheets ( again ) and there was laundry everywhere, and his bedroom smelled like piss, and there were dirty dishes piled up in the sink, and Clint had let the milk go bad, and the only thing pristine in the entire place were those stupid bags Steve had left, that Clint couldn’t bear to look at because what if Steve never came back and Clint had to go back to before and he didn’t know what he would do, okay? He just didn’t.
He was maybe asleep on the couch, when his door opened. Clint was wide awake, body held still and silent, because he might not be an agent, but he could take any coward who tried to take him while he was asleep.
“Clint?” Came a quiet voice, and oh . It was Steve . For some reason, that made Clint start crying and then he noticed he was wet and then he was crying more and he didn’t even know when that had happened or why he was crying, really, and the whole thing was just really embarrassing, because that seemed to be his life now.
But Steve just gave him a hug, which seemed to be his answer to everything. Which was okay, Clint guessed, finding himself sniffling into Steve’s t-shirt. Steve smelled clean, like he just came from a shower, which made sense cause his hair was wet, too. Steve picked him up, which sent Clint spiraling into little space. He couldn’t help it. Every time Steve picked him up he just started feeling so little that he couldn’t be big if he tried.
“Oh, Clint. I’m sorry, you had a tough week, didn’t you,” Steve said, heading for the door. Clint wanted to protest, not sure where they were going, but Steve was holding him so he didn’t. He just cried harder. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call, buddy. I tried, but… it doesn’t matter. What matters is I’m here with you now and I’m going to make it up to you, alright?” Steve’s voice was rumbly and soothing under Clint’s ear. Clint forgot that Steve didn’t know that he sucked his thumb and put it in his mouth and sucked.
“Oh, baby.” Steve sighed and squeezed him just a little tighter.
“Glad you’re home,” Clint finally managed to say. “Was hard without you.”
“It was hard for me too,” Steve said. And then they were getting off the elevator at Steve’s floor and Steve was carrying him inside. “And I’m sorry, this isn’t how I wanted our first big scene to go. I wanted to take such good care of you.”
Clint burrowed closer. Steve was taking good care of him, but he didn’t know how to say thank you for picking me up because I was falling but not in the good way and you helped me fall in the good way and I know you’re going to take care of everything, so he just said, “Daddy,” instead.
Steve kissed his head again, so Clint thought it worked okay.
“Is it okay if I give you a bath, bud? We didn’t talk about that.”
Clint didn’t know. “Never had a bath,” He said. Steve made a shaky little noise that sounded sort of sad. Clint didn’t know how to make Steve happy. “Wanna try.”
“Okay, we’ll try. You let me know if you don’t like it.” Clint nodded. Steve started to put him down and then Clint was crying again, so Steve didn’t. He sat Clint in his lap instead, even though Clint was icky and wet.
Steve helped him with all his clothes, and Clint couldn’t remember anyone doing that before, either. It was a little confusing and kinda scary, but it was Steve so Clint knew it would be okay. Then he was being set down in water, which was exactly the right temperature and there were bubbles.
“Bubbles.” He said, telling Steve, because did Steve see? Bubbles.
“Yeah, buddy. I see.” And then Steve handed him a two little boats, and they floated on the water and they had little engines and wow . Steve’s hands were gentle, and he let Clint play with the boats and he used soap that smelled soft and clean, not like some soaps which made Clint sneeze and itch. And he touched Clint like he was really, really special. Nobody but Phil had ever touched Clint that way before. It made Clint feel not quite so broken and stupid, even when Steve gently traced the lines on his back from a different father, a long time ago.
The bath didn’t last long enough and Clint started to whine without even meaning too, but Steve just wrapped him up in a big towel. He wrapped him up three times and smiled at him.
“You’re my little Clint-burrito,” Steve said, picking him up again and well, that was silly, Steve. Clint wasn’t a burrito, but then Steve pretended to eat his belly, which it turned out, really tickled. Steve tickled Clint until he could hardly breathe. But it wasn’t a scary not breathing, it was like all his breath had been replaced with butterflies instead.
Clint couldn’t stop smiling.
Steve had special pajamas for Clint that were super fuzzy and purple and had little puppies all over them. But Clint didn’t want to wear them. Because he was going to get them wet, he always got his pjs wet and he didn’t want to ruin them.
“Can’t, Steve.” Steve frowned a little bit and Clint hated that.
“Why not, buddy?”
Clint blushed and put his thumb in his mouth again. Steve didn’t look at him funny though, or tell him he was gross, or break his thumb, so maybe it would be okay.
“Gonna gettem wet.” Clint said, kinda crying again. He didn’t want to cry, he wasn’t a baby. But he was tired, he hadn’t slept good all week, and he was tired of waking up wet and changing sheets and cleaning the bed and he was just...really tired.
“Oh.” Steve said. He didn’t sound mad. “Well, we have a couple choices I think. I don’t mind if you get them wet. They’ll wash. So you can wear those pjs and if they get wet, we’ll just clean in the morning. If you don’t want to get those wet, you can wear some different pjs. I also…” Steve hesitated and Clint looked at him carefully. “I got you some pull ups to try, if you want.”
“I’m not a baby!” Clint wailed, because he wasn’t, he was a big boy, even if he was pretty little right then. He didn’t want Steve to think he was a baby, because he wasn’t. It made him feel icky and confused.
“I know you’re not,” Steve said, rubbing a hand on Clint’s tummy, which felt really nice and made some of the icky feelings go away. “Even very big boys wear pull ups sometimes, if they need to or want to.”
Clint didn’t know. What Steve was saying was confusing, but he remembered saying he might try to, when he was big. And then the bed wouldn’t get wet or his new pjs, which Steve had got him and were really special. And maybe he could stay in Steve’s bed, if he wasn’t gonna get anything wet and that would be a lot better than sleeping alone.
“Okay,” Clint whispered. “I’ll try.”
“What a brave boy.” Steve said, smiling. He sounded proud. Was Clint really brave? Just for trying a pull up? He didn’t remember the last time he’d felt brave. It was a long time ago, before Phil...or Loki… Clint felt the blue fuzziness try to get him but it couldn’t because he was little and that didn’t belong to them or anyone but him and Steve, because that’s who he gave it to.
Steve was back before Clint realized he was gone. The pull up just looked like underwear. Steve helped him put it on. It was kind of soft and a little weird, but mostly it sort of felt like he’d put a bunch of underwear on by mistake. It made a little crinkly noise when he moved, but it wasn’t loud. Plus, Clint got to put on his new pjs and they were even better than he imagined, soft and warm and fuzzy and just great. And then Steve tucked him under the covers, and got in next to him, and Clint got to cuddle next to him. Steve even read him a story. It was a good one, about a rabbit that became real because his boy loved him so much. Clint felt like he was becoming real for the first time.
He said so to Steve, around his thumb, and the words didn’t all come out right, but Steve understood anyway. He pushed Clint’s hair back from his face and looked at him with very serious eyes and said, “That’s because I love you.”
Oh. Oh. Nobody had ever loved him except for Phil and that was different, very different, and Phil was gone but Steve loved him. Steve loved him and said it and held him and Clint’s body felt real and right and Steve was going to take care of everything because he was Daddy and Clint had been looking for him since before he could even remember.
“Love you, Daddy.” Steve cuddled him close and kissed his head again, and folded him in tight so the world couldn’t get him. Clint didn’t remember a whole lot after that, except feeling very safe, and very warm, and that like, maybe, everything was going to be okay.