Chapter Text
At some point in the past, someone decided that being the new kid meant being infinitely more uncool than any other person ever. Even that weird kid in the Ornithologists Club.
Now, imagine being the new kid and being the president of the Ornithologists Club at your old high school
You're not cool.
And at SHIELD High, Clint Barton was not cool.
And it was only his first day.
"Move it, bro."
Clint was walking down the hallway, coming out of the office where Principle – no, no, Director (who the hell calls themselves the director?) Fury had given him his schedule and told him not to misbehave.
He was looking down, wondering how the hell he was supposed to find a Selvig's Physics class, when he'd been pushed.
Now, Clint's not a small guy. Not by any means.
And at his old school, nobody had ever messed with him on reputation alone (Barney Barton was infamous, especially after he'd run away to join the circus), and his relaxed nature, combined with a perfect aim using a slingshot, meant that people generally stayed out of his way.
So this… he wasn't used to this.
While he was no wallflower, and never sat back when someone was being hurt, he at least had some self-preservation, so he let it slide. He didn't know these guys, and they didn't know him. He was kind of slow, blocking the hallway, he guessed.
They passed him, a group of guys, all wearing nearly matching tracksuits, shouting the word 'bro' out every five seconds, and, were they…?
Were they Russian?
Every single one of them?
He was staring after the tracksuits when he noticed some people lingering at the back, clearly part of the group, with the way they walked and made the odd comment, but not wearing tracksuits, and, if Clint was being honest, they were rolling their eyes a lot.
But that's not what he was really looking at.
He was looking at her.
She was the most beautiful girl – no, woman – he had ever seen.
She was small, but her legs went on forever. Her curves were obvious, and in all the right places. To top it all off, her hair was a mess of bright red curls, bouncing as she walked.
And her face.
Her entire face was crafted by God, himself.
Bright green eyes, high cheekbones, and the most kissable lips Clint had ever seen.
He wanted to marry this girl, right here, right now, at the age of sixteen, and he didn't even know her name.
Just as she passed, she turned her head, catching his eyes, and smirked.
She smirked.
He died.
"Natalia," The guy next to her muttered, making her look up. He put his arm around her shoulders, steering her with the group, looking back to glare at Clint.
And that guy, he was scary.
He looked like a freaking assassin.
And he was nothing if not protective over Natalia.
Now that was a name he could see himself getting tattooed to his face in the foreseeable future.
The bell rang, and Clint grunted, moving off to continue looking for the physics lab.
"Nice of you to join us."
Clint nodded in greeting as he entered the classroom and handed the teacher the paper Fury had given him.
"Ah, new… Class, this is a new student," He turned to Clint, "Introduce yourself."
"Clint Barton."
"And I'm Dr Selvig, as I'm sure you know, and you may take a seat anywhere you'd like," He gestured to the room, not looking away from the work in front of him.
Clint nodded again, even though Selvig wouldn't see, before turning and looking at the class.
A huge blonde guy sitting at the front of the room grinned at him, but the seat beside him was occupied by a tiny girl who was staring intensely at a Physics textbook. She was actually reading it. Weird.
Then, at the opposite table, there was a very good looking guy who smirked like he knew it, chatting away to a shy guy who seemed to be listening, while simultaneously looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.
Then there were the two nice boys, one who had bright blonde hair and bright blue eyes and wore a t-shirt that was four sizes too small over huge muscles, but grinned a white smile that made Clint want to take him home to his parents. The other looked just as nice, except his shirt actually fit him, even though he was pretty buff too. They both smiled at him, and Blondie even gave him a little wave as he passed.
Wow, if Clint hadn't fallen deeply in love with Natalia ten minutes ago, he would be a thousand and ten percent gay right now.
At the table next to theirs, sat a guy and a girl, who looked to be in an argument. The guy had headphones dangling around his neck, and curly auburn hair, and the girl had black hair with pink and green in it. They were both hot, but the girl scared Clint when she looked at him.
At the next row there was a free seat, so Clint sat down before even looking at the person next to him. He turned his head and saw a black haired guy glaring at nothing in particular, wearing an all green ensemble.
Way to make a statement.
"Hey," Clint said.
"What?" The guy snapped.
Clint raised his hands in defense and looked away. The guys from the table in front turned around to face him.
"Don't mind Loki," Blondie said.
Loki? LOKI? No wonder this kid had issues.
"Yeah, he's just mad 'cause Thor's got a girlfriend and he doesn't."
"Shut up," Loki - Loki - said.
"I'm Steve, and this is Sam," Blondie said, holding his hand out. Clint shook his hand, then Sam's.
"Clint."
"We heard," Sam chuckled.
Selvig had started to talk, and Steve looked back briefly, but, deciding that what he was saying was irrelevant, turned back.
"The front desk is Thor and his girlfriend, Jane, next to them is Tony Stark-"
"Stark? As in Howard Stark?" Clint's jaw dropped. No wonder Tony was smirking. He would be too if his dad was the name in renewable energy.
"-And Bruce Banner. They're both geniuses and they're best friends."
"And then you have us and Peter and Gamora-"
Gamora's head snapped up, her eyes in a glare, but Peter merely waved, before moving to put a headphone back in. Seemingly soothed by the action, Gamora smiled, a toothless grin that made Clint feel just as uneasy, and then turned back.
"Behind you is Schmidt and Zola, don't talk to them-"
"Shut it, Rogers."
Clint turned behind to see a red faced guy and a small guy, both glaring at Steve and Sam.
"Go away, Johann."
"Don't- Don't call me that. It's Red Skull. Why can't you call me Red Skull?" He went even redder faced, and Clint was kind of worried he'd explode.
"Anyway, then you have Brock Rumlow… and…" Steve trailed off, looking away from the table, before eventually turning his whole body around to Sam.
Sam picked up on the distress and leaned in.
"And Bucky Barnes… they're dicks, dude, don't talk to them either."
Clint turned to see the two guys staring at them. Glaring at them, actually.
They had both been in the Bro-Squad this morning, and the one with long hair had been Natalia's friend.
Clint turned back around as Sam started speaking.
"They're in the mafia."
"Mafia?"
"Yeah, some Russian dudes transferred here in the eighth grade and formed a mini mafia with this Russian chick who no one had ever spoke to before. Rumlow joined when Pierce joined a few years back… Barnes went last semester."
"Can we not discuss Bucky Barnes?" Steve whispered, turning the full way around.
Sam shrugged and turned around as well, leaving Clint alone with Loki, who was still glaring.
"I hate you," Loki seethed. Clint shook his head and opened his textbook, trying to catch up with what Selvig was saying.
By lunch, Clint had been in Erskine’s history with Steve, Schmidt and Zola, and boy, could they debate history trivia. He also had Hill's English with Sam, and no classes with Natalia.
This sucked, as she was already his obsession, even if he couldn't exactly remember her face – more of the idea of it.
He entered the lunch room and could immediately see the clique system.
Thor, Loki, Jane, Jane's weird friend Darcy (who had sat next to him during Biology and complained about Coulson – SHIELD's Vice Principle – taking her iPod), and Thor's weirder friends, who talked loudly, and often about being warriors, sat at the table nearest the food.
Schmidt and Zola, and a bunch of random losers – including Rumlow – sat at a table, laughing at racist jokes and probably recommending rash cream to their red-faced leader.
Tony Stark – Tony Stark! – and Bruce Banner sat together, across from Pepper Potts, who was in his Math class - who was not and would never date Tony, ever! Tony’s best friend who wasn’t Bruce, Rhodey (who Clint liked, because he was normal) sat with them too, rolling his eyes at Tony’s comments/
The X-Freaks or whatever they called themselves – because they did, Erik had told him – sat together, not even really speaking, because a lot of them weren't actually friends. Jean and Scott spoke, Erik talked to Charles, even though Charles was ignoring him and talking to Hank.
Peter and Gamora's weird friendship group were together, arguing, as they clearly did all of the time.
The Mafia – AND NATALIA – sat at the back of the room, throwing food around and acting like animals. Bucky Barnes looked indifferent, but sat with an arm around Natalia (no, Clint was not scowling). Natalia – so pretty – looked appropriately disgusted at the Mafia.
Clint would never (probably never) act like that around Natalia. He would never make her feel uncomfortable. He would never eat like that in front of her.
No matter how he ate normally at this current moment in time.
"Clint!" He turned to see Steve waving him over. As he walked over, he heard Schmidt's booming laughter and extremely homophobic comment, which had him sent to Fury's office with a loud grunt and a glare at Steve.
"He is such freak," Sam shook his head.
Clint agreed.
"So, hey," Clint said, sitting down, his back turned to Natalia. Annoying.
"What's up?" Sam asked.
"Not much, you guys?"
"We're fine-" Sam started to say.
"We're fine," Steve said sarcastically.
"Steve-" Sam physically winced.
"Why don't you just go and sit right on Bucky's lap? Huh? That's where you want to be, clearly! Go!" Steve was whisper yelling.
"You're being ridiculous!" Sam said, in a perfectly normal voice.
"I can't believe you," Steve growled, standing up. He stormed out of the room. Sam jumped up.
"Later, man," He slapped Clint's shoulder, before running after Steve.
Clint turned to watch them go, and caught Bucky staring after them.
Yes, everyone was watching them… but Bucky was different. He looked a little hurt.
But, hey, Clint didn't even know the guy. Maybe that was just his face-
And he's looking at Clint, and glaring.
And now the Mafia is looking at Clint, and glaring.
And Natalia is looking at Clint, almost bemused.
Because Clint is staring at them.
And he can't look away.
He is looking, isn't he?
To be honest, Clint would punch himself right now if no one else was gonna, because he is just staring.
He jumped up before the Mafia could kick his ass – in front of Natalia, no less – and walked out at a brisk pace. He was not running.
He went to his locker and stuffed the lunch his mom had packed inside, shutting it again.
"Holy fuck!" He yelled as a girl appeared around the other side.
"What?" She sneered, leaning on the locker beside his.
"Who are you?"
"Kate Bishop," She turned around and opened the locker next to his, "You're new."
"Yeah?"
"You're a Sophomore."
"Yeah, are you?"
"Nah, Freshman."
"You're awful confident for a Freshman."
"Sorry, should I burst into tears because a loser Sophomore with no friends speaks to me?"
"You're mean."
"I'm honest," She took out books, and then turned to him, "But I'll be your friend, if you want."
"Um…" He looked at her. Pretty hot, in a not-Natalia sort of way. Nice face, blue eyes, black hair. Plus, she was wearing purple, just like him!
"The offer expires in-"
"Okay," He held his hand out, "Clint Barton."
Gym was not fun.
Most of the Mafia, Barnes, Natalia (heart eyes), Rumlow, Pierce (huge dick, that guy), Schmidt, Zola, Steve, Sam, Thor, Thor's friend Sif, Loki, Peter Quill, Gamora, some of their friends, some x-men (seriously?), Stark, Banner, Rhodey and Pepper were in that class. Their teacher was Melinda May, and while she was pretty small and innocent looking, that woman was scary as fuck.
They'd done laps and climbed the rope. Clint was pretty good, considering his upper body strength was better than good.
Sam almost got to the top. Bucky got even closer. Steve climbed the full thing, with a scowl the whole time. Clint had applauded. No one else had.
Natalia reached farther than Clint had, which made him blush, but then she reached farther than Bucky had, and honestly seemed to stop caring when she got down, not even tired. Bored.
A lot of people did quite well, except for Loki, who refused. Tony, who got a little way up and burst into tears when he looked down and saw how far he was from the ground (not even far), though he denies it. Bruce got as far as Tony, and just looked too shy to want to continue.
Zola did practically nothing before giving up. No one laughed, except the Mafia, who were clearly allowed to.
Natalia moved to sit on a bench while Peter Quill had his turn, and Clint made to follow, but was blocked by Pepper of all people.
Apparently they were friends.
No one had thought to tell Clint.
(Clint had told no one he was in love with Natalia and it was only his first day, so he was hardly expected to know all of her friends… but still).
He was pathetic.
Steve Rogers hated Bucky Barnes.
His reasoning was simple:
Bucky Barnes was a jackass.
Way back in first grade, when Steve had been in a fight with a bully who’s name he can’t even remember anymore, Bucky Barnes had been the first to come over and help Steve win.
(The term ‘help’ is used lightly).
They’d been inseparable, joining forces with a group of kids who loved saving innocent playground victims as much as Captain America (they were five, shut up) did.
Named by the X-Men, the Howling Commandos were unstoppable…
Until two years ago.
That’s when Steve met Peggy.
Now, you may he’s overexageratting, first love and all, but he’s not.
Peggy Carter is the most beautiful woman that could ever exist.
With a sophisticated English accent, short perfectly waved chocolate brown locks, matching huge brown eyes, perfectly painted red lips and red nail polish to match, she was perfect, and she liked Steve, even when he was little.
They’d met in the library, where Steve would go when Bucky was at soccer practice with the other Commandos (Steve wanted to join, but Coach said no). Peggy was a Senior and Steve was a Freshman (everyone had mocked them, especially since Peggy towered over him in her heels, but they didn’t care).
So, yeah, maybe it was kinda Steve’s fault that Bucky left, but it wasn’t all on him!
So, yeah, maybe he’d spent a little more time with Peggy than his friends, but that didn’t matter. Maybe when Peggy had introduced him to the guy she was tutoring, Sam, he started to hang out with him more, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still like his friends.
Then, suddenly, he went to sit with the Howling Commandos one day (Peggy was working on a paper and Sam was doing some sort of club meeting), and Bucky wasn’t there.
“Where’s Buck?” Steve had asked, looking at his friends. Dernier and Jones shared a look, before looking to Morita, who sighed and looked up at Steve.
“He’s been hanging with the Mafia for a while now.”
“What?”
Steve had laughed, and glanced over, only to feel his smile fall.
Bucky was sitting at the Mafia’s table, Natasha Romanov, the odd Russian girl who stole his phone in their first Art class together and sent herself all of his personal details, before giving it back, was sitting on his lap. Steve liked Natasha, honestly, he did, but… they didn’t go together.
At all.
Yeah, they were both really, really, really attractive (from an artist’s perspective, obviously), and yeah, the red in her hair bounced off of the red star he’d stitched into his leather jacket (Steve gave him that jacket), and yeah, she fit perfectly into his arms, and yeah, he desperately wanted to draw them together…
But, no.
Bucky avoided him constantly every time he tried to talk to him, but finally, Steve traced him to behind the school, smoking. He’d coughed accidentally, making Bucky jump.
“What the fu-?” Bucky spun around, hands up, but dropped them when he saw Steve, “What do you want?”
“You smoke now?”
“Yeah, what do you care?” Bucky put his cigarette in his mouth and fixed his jacket, sliding a hand in his hair. It was getting longer, and he’d stopped slicking it back like he was born seventy years ago.
“Well, if you want to smoke, you smoke, I’m not gonna stop you.”
“Obviously.”
“Excuse me?”
“Go away, Rogers,” He took a drag, before stubbing it out on a dumpster, “Isn’t Peggy looking for you?”
He was grinning, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and his voice was mocking.
“Buck-“
“You haven’t spoken to any of us in four months and now, what? Peggy dump you?”
“What? Buck, I don’t understand why you’re angry.”
“Of course you don’t! And you won’t, until Peggy finds someone new and you’re left with no one because you ditched everyone for her!”
“Bucky! Don’t you dare talk about Peggy that way-!”
“What’re you gonna do about it, Rogers?” Bucky came up close to him, towering over him slightly less than he did last time they spoke.
“Stop it, Bucky.”
“I get why you ditched us, Stevie, I really do,” He stepped forward, Steve taking one back, “Pretty girl like that lifts her skirt-“
“Bucky!”
Steve pushed him, but Bucky just pushed back, smushing their faces together, his lips pressing into Steve’s, before he pulled away, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, laughing lightly.
“Goodbye, Rogers.”
If Steve stuck around after, leaning against the dumpsters, catching his breath, he’d never admit it.
And then it’d been summer, and Steve had grown to be taller than Sam (Sam screamed when Steve had arrived at his house that morning).
Peggy had broken up with him before going to England to visit her family before college started. It’d been a really sweet breakup, they’d both cried and held onto each other for an hour after, then agreed to be best friends still.
Then he’d put his sad energy into working out. Sam had screamed then too, when after a month of not seeing him, Steve had been almost as buff as him.
“How did you do this in a month? It took me sixteen years to get this definition!”
Then Steve had gotten buffer than Sam.
Then school had started, and Bucky Barnes had glared at him all day, and sat next to Rumlow in Physics.
So, yeah.
Steve Rogers hated Bucky Barnes.
A month passed by at SHIELD High, and Clint spent most of his time with Kate, unless she was with her friends. He would not spend time with a group of freshman. One was bad enough, but Kate was awesome. She was exactly like him, in a less human-disaster-y sort of way. She liked archery, and birds (hawks were her favorite, just like him, and she pretended she didn't fangirl over the news that a rare hawk had been spotted in their town, just like him) and purple things. They got on really well.
He sometimes hung out with Steve and Sam, but they were really close friends, so they had their inside jokes ("On your left!" "Oh, Steve, I can't breathe, you're so funny!") and their arguments (usually over Bucky Barnes).
He had made a few acquaintances, and even though Loki hated him, he was always by himself around the back of the school, and always let Clint eat lunch there.
Natalia continued to evade him. Wait, no, that sounds creepy.
Clint had tried to speak to Natalia, but she was always surrounded by people.
If it wasn't the Mafia, it was Barnes. If it wasn't Barnes, it was Pepper. If it wasn't Pepper, it was Steve.
His friend.
Clint had kept meaning to bring it up to Steve, but in amidst the inside jokes and the ranting about Bucky Barnes (seriously, that guy talked about Barnes more than Clint's internal dialogue talked about Natalia), he hadn't had the chance.
And then, wow, Natalia had appeared in his English class, handed Hill a slip of paper, smiled at Sam, and-
Sat. Next. To. Clint.
Okay, well, she sat in the only free seat, right between his window seat and Scott Summers (dick).
"Hey."
What. The. Fuck?
He turned his head. She was looking at him.
Smiling at him.
"Hey!" He grinned, sitting up.
Damn it, Barton.
He cleared his throat, "Um, hey… 'sup?"
A thousand times worse.
He glanced back at her and she was looking down at her desk, a smirk on her face.
So much worse.
"Hi."
"You said that already," She looked back up.
God, she was even prettier up close.
"I didn't know you were in this class."
Why did he say that?! Now she knew that he knew her even though they'd never spoken. He was officially that creepy guy who stares at her in hallway and cries about her when he goes to sleep (he doesn't cry about her, but he does think about her in bed every night – he is a teenage boy, don't judge him).
"I just transferred in from Russian. The teacher isn't even fluent and he used the wrong tense three times last week," She looked visibly annoyed at this, before her face fell back into perfect composure.
"Oh… you speak Russian?"
You're an idiot. Her best friend's – all of her friends, except Pepper and Steve- are Russian. She just said that the teacher was wrong and she knew that. Her surname is Romanova.
"Mm hm," She didn't seem to care that he was an idiot, and maybe this worked in his favor – he might've seemed less obsessed.
(He didn’t).
"Cool."
"Well, I'm from Russia originally, so it'd be kind of bad if I didn't know how to speak it," She smirked again, looking back at him, playfully (he hoped) mocking him. He grinned.
"You're accent-"
"Yeah, my uncle made sure my accent wasn't too strong. Kids make fun of those who are different," She looked up at him, her eyes saying something her calm face wasn't.
"I know what-"
He wanted to reassure her that he got her, after all, he had been the kid who talked with his hands more than he talked with words because he took his hearing aids out a lot when he was little. He couldn't, though, because Hill had stood up, and Natalia's face had fallen into one of indifference again.
Clint sighed a little, sitting back in his seat, glancing back at her every so often, but receiving nothing back. He opened his book and tried to catch up to whatever Hill was talking about.