Mine Would Be Him (Clint Barton x reader x Everett Ross)

Chapter 2

Well it turned out that Clint was one of the other nine recruits in your group. When you asked how they didn't manage to snatch him up a few years earlier, he simply smiled at you and said, "I kept turning them down."

Clint was so easy to talk to that you kept feeling like you were chattering away incessantly. But whenever you'd comment on it, he would just smile and make a joke and get you started all over again.

However, when he offered to introduce you to the director, you decided that he must have had enough and had decided to give you a hard time.

"Don't pick on me, Clint," you said, smacking him on the arm. "You don't know the director of the strategic homeland blah blah blah anymore more than I do."

"Not the current one, but I happen to be rooming with the future one. At least, that's what he seems to think, so I've taken to calling him that. He's in our group too. Want to meet him?"

"Sure, why not?"

You followed Clint to his room, which happened to be on the same hallway as yours. When you got there, you let him enter first so that he could carry all his gear in and have room to put it away since the rooms were barely designed for two, much less three people.

"Y/n, this is Everett Ross. Ross, this is y/n. She's in our group."

Peeking around Clint's frame, you saw a guy who was going to look terribly out of place among everybody else. He was a lot smaller for one thing. He was maybe five feet six inches tall, tops. One hundred and thirty pounds at the most, and he'd have to be soaking wet to hit that. He looked to be about the same age as his roommate, but whereas Clint had already started developing a man's build, Ross was still holding onto his teenage proportions. He was also very nicely dressed for a guy his age while somehow managing to look like he would never actually go shopping.

Just when you were wondering how in the world they picked this guy, he quickly stood up and offered you his hand while saying, "It's a pleasure to meet you. Please call me Everett."

And that's when you saw it.

That smile.

You knew right then and there that this guy wasn't going to just climb the ladder, he was going to turn it into an art form. He seemed to exude a confidence and a strength that didn't seem possible. In a room full of a hundred men far tougher than he was, he would still find a way to be the one calling the shots.

"It's nice to meet you, too," you said, shaking his hand.

"So, have you met anyone here besides us?" he asked.

"No, not yet. I've walked around a bit, but there are more people here than I expected for only ten trainees."

"Well, they use this place for more than just training brand new recruits. They also use it for..."

Even though you were very interested in what Everett was saying, you got distracted by the sight of Clint copying him and rolling his eyes.

You had the distinct feeling that these two were never really going to be more than roommates.

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The rest of the recruits were nice enough, in their own way. They were all the big, brawny, muscled type that Everett said probably didn't have enough brains combined to fill a cookie jar. You reminded him that it wasn't smart to insult people who could break you in half like a toothpick.

In reality, the entire group got along just fine. But Clint and Everett were the only ones you grew close to during the program. Your two guys couldn't have been more opposite from each other though.