Chapter Text
Clint is fucked up.
This is the third time this week that he hasn't even thought about his homework, never mind actually paying attention during class. His grades are dropping really fast. Even he can't believe it. He used to be smart. Fuck it, he still is smart! But he just doesn’t like school anymore. Not that he used to, but it's gotten worse over the last couple of weeks. His interest in almost anything has started to slip away from him. Partying and drinking until he ended up as drunk as could be is the only thing that matters to him. It's kind of what he lives for.
“Well, don't we look lovely this morning?”
Tony looks at him with something like worry in his eyes as Clint shuffles into the lab. Tony fucking Stark is just as much of a party boy as he is. Hell, Tony drinks more than he does while still managing to maintain a 4.0 and ace any and all tests and exams that are thrown at him. Safe to say he certainly isn't as stupid as Clint, who can do all of none of that.
“I feel like my head is going to fucking burst.” Clint groans. It's even worse than that, but he doesn’t even want to try and articulate how he really feels.
“Must have been a fucking amazing party last night.” Tony gives him a wink and continues to suck on the end of his pen, as the genius always does when he's bored. "Get laid?"
Clint squints at him, trying to avoid the light at all costs and failing miserably. "Nope. Just drunk." He sighs.
Clint isn’t even sure what class they're in right now- chemistry, he realises when the familiar Professor Adams enters the room. Clint fucking hates chemistry. Adams has some kind of project that they're supposed to do in pairs. Something to do with stereoisomers and chirality in pharmaceuticals, he isn't really paying attention. He shoots a look to Tony hoping he'll understand that Clint needs the good grade that he'll surely get if Tony agrees to work with him. But his hopes of getting his grades back up without really working for it are dashed when Professor Adams announces that he will pick the partners.
Karma's a bitch.
He gets paired up with Bruce Banner. Not really a bad thing because Bruce is as smart as Tony, but he doesn't know the boy very well. Fuck, he doesn’t know Bruce at all! He knows his name and he knows that Bruce isn't exactly liked, even if he isn't sure why.
As he stands up, slowly walking towards the smart-ass boy, his eyes meet Bruce’s for the first time. Of course he has seen Bruce before, but he wasn't really looking. There's something about him; something Clint can't quite place. He doesn't really care, so he shrugs it off and promptly forgets about it.
“Hey.” He says, plopping down next to Bruce. He looks startled, as if he hadn’t expected him, even though their professor read out the list of partners a few seconds ago.
“Hello.” He whispers. He steadfastly refuses to look Clint in the eye.
Clint doesn't really care. He understands why Bruce isn’t really eager to talk to anyone. He wouldn’t be if it were him who had to put up with all of the crap their classmates throw at Bruce. At nineteen years old you would think they'd be beyond that by now. Apparently not.
“So, do you have any idea what we’re supposed to do? I wasn’t really listening.” Clint gives Bruce a shy smile, hoping that they can at least talk to each other.
“Yes. I do.” And with that Bruce stands up.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Clint doesn't understand. What's he doing?
Bruce raises an eyebrow while turning around to look at him. “I thought you needed me to do this project for you. I mean, chemistry isn’t really your best subject.”
Clint has no idea how Bruce knows about his failing grade. He supposes Bruce could easily have overheard a conversation between himself and Tony about his ineptitude.
“It isn’t," He admits, "But it wouldn’t be fair if I let you do all the work, and one good grade isn’t going to save my stupid ass anyway.” Clint gives him another smile and stands up next to Bruce.
“So if you have any idea what we have to do, I would love to help you out. But please bear in mind that I'm not good at this stuff.”
Bruce looks somewhat amused but his amusement doesn't quite reach his eyes. He looks more like he's afraid.
“I do have some ideas but I’m not sure if that would make me a showoff.” He whispers, almost too quietly.
“To bad we can’t say that I helped you with it. No one would believe that.” Clint gives him a smile and gets a little, really little almost non-existent one in return.
Bruce sits back down, glancing quickly at his watch, giving a soft sigh. “It’s no good, I can’t think of something in the five minutes we still have left.”
“You know what…” Clint starts, “I could come over to your house later today, we could think of something and perhaps get going with this.” He begins packing his bag.
“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.” Bruce mumbles whilst looking down and fiddling with the hem of his shirt.
“Why's that? Didn’t clean your room? Or do you have a pain-in-the-ass roommate? Don’t worry. My house is also isn't a problem.”
“What isn’t?” Bruce looks up, their eyes meeting.
“If you would like to come over to my house.” Clint gives him another smile. He really needs Bruce to trust him. He was serious about the fact that one good grade won’t save his ass, but it might help. And he isn't really counting on Tony for when he needs tutoring. Perhaps Bruce could help him with that later.
“I’m really not sure…” Bruce starts but whatever he was going to say is cut off by Clint.
“No I mean it, I don’t want you to be doing all the work, let me come over to your place.”
“And what if I don’t tell you where I live?” Bruce looks at him, a bit daring.
“I’ll figure it out anyway.” Clint gives him a wink. And he really means it. Bruce is alright. He's in no way the smart-ass 'I-always-know-better' boy that Clint had expected.
Bruce goes to say something but gets interrupted by Professor Adams telling everyone that they can leave.
“See you tonight then.” Clint smiles one last time before disappearing into the crowd of fleeing students.