Chapter Two | Ocean Man

Ros

When she woke up the next morning, Clint was clinging to her side like a koala. A leg was slung over both of hers, his arm over her waist and hand gripping her skin. His nose was buried in her neck, his light breaths brushing over her skin. She didn't take him for a cuddler, but she didn't hate it. Surprisingly, she slept rather well.

Her radio played soft jazz in the background of the kitchen, something from the 50s that she liked but didn't care enough to memorise. Her apartment was fairly lavish, not the nicest building in Hell's Kitchen since Hell's Kitchen was, well, literal hell, but it was one of the better ones. She made a promise to herself that she would find the safest place to live when she moved here. Crime was pretty common, and it had gotten worse since Daredevil decided to make his rounds around the city.

It wasn't too long after Ros woke up that Clint made an appearance. He was… well, hot and unbelievably her type. And right now, very shirtless.

He wasn't ripped like the models on Calvin Klein ads, but to say he wasn't defined would be an understatement. His abs were hard, she remembered feeling them last night, and his arms were practically carved straight out of a wet dream. He had a few scars scattered across his body, mostly small but she knew what a bullet and stab wound looked like. He seemed like the militia type. Still, chicks dug scars.

His hair was mussed and his eyes were squinted like he literally just shucked on his pair of pants and walked straight out here.

Clint's lips stretched into a warm, kind of awkward, smile when he saw her sat at the kitchen island. Her legs were crossed on the stool and she was munching on an apple. Ros watched for a moment as Clint shifted uncertainly, unsure if he had to leave or if he could sit down, and her lips twitched.

"You know I didn't make two cups of coffee for myself, right?" she asked around a mouthful of fruit, sliding the white mug to the other side of the island. "Sit down, you dweeb." Clint shuffled over, still looking a little unsure, but he sat down anyway. "I think I have some milk left if you don't like it black, a little sugar, too."

"I usually drink this stuff straight outta the pot," Clint grumbled, his voice low and husky from sleep,

Ros cocked an eyebrow, placing her half-eaten apple on the island. "And you don't have diabetes?"

"Didn't realise you could get diabetes from not having sugar?" Clint retorted, murmuring the end of his comment into his mug as he took a large gulp, cupping the warm ceramic between his palms.

"Wow, you usually this sassy in the morning?" Ros asked.

"Better sassy than a dumbass," Clint mumbled, resting his chin in his arm as he slurped down his coffee. He looked exhausted.

"I'm guessing sassy when you're tired, then?"

"Sorry," Clint groaned, thumping his head on the island. "That was mean."

"I've heard worse, big guy," Ros said. "Remember filthy whore?"

Clint snorted as he lifted his head. "Wasn't inaccurate," he commented quietly, probably to himself.

Ros threw her apple across the table and it thunked off his forehead. He hardly reacted, just stared in stunned silence ahead of him like he wasn't sure what happened. The apple rolled off the counter and onto the floor. "Asshole," she added for effect, but she wasn't offended.

"Communication is key for a budding friendship, Ros," Clint said through a yawn. "That's what- my, um, my friend told me. Anyway. Weird roommate. One of them."

"A budding friendship? You usually pound your friends like that?" Ros muttered into her coffee, hiding her grin when Clint spluttered and looked up at her wide-eyed. "Or are they… those kinds of friend?"

Clint gaped. "Who do you think I am?"

"Someone who insults a one-night stand after she made him coffee?" Ros tried teasingly. "You said weird roommates. And you have a stressful job. You some kind of escort? Gonna scam me into paying you?"

"You won $200 last night, so I'm tempted," Clint threw up, raising his eyebrows over his coffee mug. "I think I'd be a high-class escort." His expression dropped after a moment and he slumped, eyes drifting away. "God, I really just had a one-night stand, didn't I?"

"Been a while, stud?" she asked, rhetorically, but she was also curious.

"Uhhh, maybe about… 20 years," Clint groaned and knocked his head against the island again.

Ros didn't say anything – smiled a little at the dramatics – and cocked an eyebrow when he lifted his head back up after several long moments, eyes immediately locking onto hers.

"Gotta say you did a good job, big guy," Ros said, winking at him over her mug.

Rosa walked into work an hour later after dropping Clint off – she assumed it wasn't where he lived as he didn't even know what direction they were going – jacket tied around her waist and sweat dripping off her brow due to the unexpected heat wave that hit New York.

In the yard, she caught sight of her co-worker who had an arm buried in an engine of a truck, wincing.

"Is that Galloway's truck again?" Ros asked, coming up behind her friend, propping her chin on her shoulder to see what she was doing.

"Asshole doesn't know how to clean his fucking engine," Riri muttered, pulling her arm out as Ros stepped back. She grimaced at the grime covering her latex glove, chunks of something that Ros didn't wanna think about clenched in her fist. "Nasty."

"You're not gonna hose it down?" Ros asked.

Riri pulled off the glove and threw it in a nearby bucket. "Tried at first," she answered, "but there was build-up at the bottom. It's out now, so about to whip out the hose." She rested her ass against the car's open hood, crossing her arms over her chest, and examined Ros. "So. You get fucked up or… fucked up?" she asked with a grin.

Ros smiled with a shake of the head. "Get back to work," she ordered with no bite. "Gossip is for after work, Ri." She turned away.

"Yeah, yeah." Riri rolled her eyes. "Logan said you've got mail waiting for you in your office. Well, grumbled it since he's in an asshole mood today."

"Thanks, Ri."

"Was he hot?"

"Back to work!" Ros yelled over her shoulder with a chuckle.

It was a rather large auto-repair shop they worked at, about the size of 3 basketball courts, but there were only a few working there. Herself, Riri, Logan who was always crouchy, Wade who pissed about everyone off, and Laura. Ros, Logan and Wade were the seniors, having worked there for years, Riri was 19 and only half a year in but she acted as though she'd been working there for as long as the 3. She always picked things up easy, didn't need much training to begin with. Laura was 15 and very new. At first, Ros didn't want to hire her in because she was still at school, but after the kid somehow convinced Logan it was a good idea, she took her on board.

Lunella often visited the shop, a good friend of Laura's despite their opposite personalities. She was a sweet kid, too smart for her own damn good sometimes, but a sweet kid nonetheless.

They were like a little family.

Rosa untied her jacket as she approached her office, located at the top of a tower-like building that overlooked the courtyard.

She froze when she entered. A man sitting in her chair, feet swung up on her cluttered desk and an easy smile on his face. Dark hair, dark eyebrows, equally dark eyes. Wearing a dark grey suit with an unbuttoned green waistcoat, the first buttons of his shirt undone.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she hissed out, throwing her jacket on the coat rack. She stormed up to her desk and slammed her hand down on the wood. "We had a deal—"

"Hey, hey," he said with raised eyebrows, hands held up in surrender, "not here for a fight."

"I don't give a shit—"

"Rosa, baby—"

"Victor, I swear—"

"I just need you to listen to me—"

"And if you interrupt me one more fucking time, your head is going through that window," Ros said, her voice overlapping his. She let the silence linger for a moment, watched Victor as he closed his mouth. "We agreed. I never go into your work, and you never come into mine. You make threats in my house, Victor, not here."

Victor smiled, closed-lipped but still genuine, and swung his legs off her desk to stand up. Ros removed her hand from the desk, took two steps back. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm not here to threaten you, Rosa," he reassured, moving around her desk to stand in front of her. Ros, the stubborn asshole, didn't move, so they were only a step away from each other. Too close. He leaned back against her desk, crossed his legs at the ankle with his hands gripping the edge of the wood. "I just came to tell you that I'll be gone for two weeks. Lovely holiday to Germany, actually. You'll be paying triple when I come back, of course. I don't want you interfering with my guys, after all."

"Couldn't have left a message?" Ros asked, lips pursed.

"I still don't have your number," Victor said.

"Don't bullshit me."

"As threatening as ever, I see." His tongue traced his lower lip as he examined her from head to toe. She itched to turn away and leave. Or to deck him. But she held herself. He sighed lightly when she didn't budge. "I'll be seeing you in a couple of weeks, Rosa." He reached up to caress her upper arm, eyes drifting up to zero in on her lips. She felt her heart stutter in her chest, her mouth go completely dry.

He lowered his arm and brushed past her after moments of just staring, and left without a word.

When the door shut, she exhaled and slumped over her desk, knees weak. God, how she fucking hated herself for reacting like this. Jesus. It was pathetic.

Ros managed to calm herself, one hand gripped tightly on the edge of the desk and the other clutched over the heart beating against her ribcage.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck Victor.

Fuck Victor Von fucking Doom and his fucking asshole fucking mob.

Jesus Christ.

Deep breaths, Ros. You've been through worse shit than this.

"You can't keep letting this shit slide," a gruff voice spoke from behind her, presumably stood in the doorway where Victor just left. Ros sighed through her nose. "You know what he's gonna do to you. Ain't no 'if' about it."

"I've only got a few more payments, Logan," Ros told the man, not turning around. "A few more payments and I can move away from this shithole of a city."

"An' then what about us? What about Ri, Laura, or Lunella? Me an' Wade can keep 'em safe here, but we can't follow them home every night. Make sure his guys don't go after them when he decides he wants you back. Which he will."

"I'm saving up. In case there's an emergency. For all of you to live somewhere safe"

There was a pause. "You're not a fuckin' idiot, Ros. Don't act like one."

"Fuck off, Logan."

Clint

He could feel her stare on him when he got back to the Tower. She always did it whenever he did something he wasn't sure she would approve of.

That one time he got Stark to make super strong magnets to stick onto Barnes' arm – which he couldn't do anymore since Shuri replaced it with vibranium – when he told a group of Kree soldiers that he would stick his foot up each of their asses, only to end up with five broken ribs, a sprained wrist, a dislocated soldier and three bullet wounds to the abdomen, and then, of course, when he punched Loki in the face. Sure, he broke two fingers, but goddamn was it worth seeing the look on his face.

But this time, he was a little scared. Natasha was practically best friends with his ex-wife. He wasn't sure how she'd react if she found out he had a godforsaken one-night-stand, if she'd tell Laura, rip his dick right off his body… God, he couldn't let her find out.

"Who was she?"

Aw, dammit.

"What?" Clint spluttered.

"You keep looking at your phone," Natasha observed, casually stirring the sugar into her tea. "You seem a bit happier than usual. And you're blushing right now." She cocked a perfect red eyebrow at him. "So, I'll ask again. Who was she?"

"Uhhh… Her name's Rosa."

"And you slept with her?"

"Tash!" Clint hissed.

"Sam and Steve are out on their run, James is brooding in his room, Thor is out with Brunnhilde, everyone else is still sleeping," Natasha told him. "Tell me about her. What does she look like?"

"This is embarrassing," Clint murmured.

"C'mon, Clint. We used to talk about this crap all the time," Natasha pointed out. "You haven't gotten laid since Laura. I haven't gotten laid since Ronin. Talk to me."

"We're not in high school anymore, Tash."

"We never were," Natasha pointed out with a scoff. "Is she cute?"

"Why? You after her?"

"If you're not gonna call her, I just might," Natasha teased with a quirked lip. "If someone's hot enough to get your dick wet, she must be something."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't. What does she look like?" the red-head pressed.

"We're not talking about this," Clint said.

"Fine." Natasha shrugged, and Clint thought she dropped it. She stood up and placed her empty mug on the counter where Steve would wash it up – the weirdo preferred drying the dishes himself – and moved around the table to where Clint was sat.

Before Clint could even think, she snatched his phone from the armchair and briskly walked away.

"Wha- no!" Clint practically yelled and stumbled over his feet to chase after her. Unfortunately for him, she had a head start and had already unlocked his phone. "What do you think you're doing? Natalia Romanova-!"

"It doesn't scare me when you call me that, Clinton!" Natasha called back.

She abruptly spun around, leaving Clint to almost crash right into her, and she pressed the phone against his ear.

"Tasha-!"

"Hello?"

Aw, crap.

"Who is this?"

Natasha slapped the phone against his ear with a what-the-hell-do-you-think-you're-doing? look. He grabbed the phone from her hand and signed a bunch of one-handed curses her way, which she responded with a cocky smirk.

"If this is some dumbass kid prank-calling me, I swear I'll find you and—"

"Really? Threatening minors now?"

Crap.

Why the hell did he start off like that?!

"It's, uh, Clint," he elaborated with a wince.

"Clint? Bar Clint? Clint from the bar?"

"I… didn't think Clint was a very common name."

"Not in the 40s anymore, old man." Ros chuckled, easing up a little. "How'd you get my number? Is this another part of your weird job? Stalking people?"

"Josie actually texted it to me- texted me it," Clint explained, feeling the start of a blush creeping up his cheek. He glared at Natasha who watched his fumbling bemusedly. "Um, she said, well, told me that I, uh, should ask you out." Technically true, but Josie used more colourful language. "So… I was wondering if you. Were maybe free. Tonight?"

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. "You're asking me out on a date?" she asked. He couldn't decipher her tone.

"…Yes?" he decided.

"Then ask me out properly, big guy." Now Clint knew she was teasing. He could almost hear the grin in her voice. "I know I'm the most attractive person you've ever seen, but try not to fumble through your words this time."

Had Natasha already spoken to her? Were they teaming up against him behind his back?

Clint inhaled through his nose and exhaled slowly through his mouth. Don't fuck it up, Barton.

"Will you go on a date with me, Ros?"

"Depends. You up for a drive-in theatre? Was gonna go tonight, watch Donnie Darko. Drive-ins are kinda my thing." There was a moment's hesitation. "I mean, I know it's not a good first date." She chuckled. "Ignore my ass. Dinner sounds—"

"No!" Clint blurted, sending Ros into silence. "I mean, um," he cleared his throat, "a drive-in sounds nice. I'd like that. Better than a dinner. It isn't basic- not that there's anything wrong with dinners, but—"

"Dude." Ros was laughing now. It was a nice sound, soft and light, unlike almost everything else about her. "A drive-in it is, then."

Author's Note: Just for context's sake, people like Victor Von Doom, Logan, Wade, Riri, Lunella, Laura and other characters that are on Rosa's side are non-powered. They won't be and aren't gonna be part of the Avengers or anything, at least not for now, so Wade and Logan don't have super-strength or anything.

I'm very much basing this off Matt Fraction's Clint because he's the love of my life. Which means we might see Lucky the Pizza Dog or Kate at ome point in the future...

Also, wasn't expecting reviews on a Clint Barton x OC fic after the first chapter since it's one of the rarest pairings, and it's so nice to see them!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!