Much thanks to Orcas for the multiple read throughs and title idea! Can also be found on ao3 here

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"Go away, we don't want any," Rhodes called out as soon he heard the door open. He kept his eyes on the game playing on the widescreen tv in front of him and watched as Rivera hit a single.

"We?" Clint asked, slightly amused as he set his gear down and walked around to the other side of the large, squishy leather couch to grab some pretzels from the bowl on the table in front of it. "I don't see a 'we' in here."

"I," Rhoades corrected, taking a sip of his beer. "I don't want any company. Go find some other corner of the tower to crawl into."

"No can do, buddy," Clint said, flopping down onto the couch next to him and shoving another handful of pretzels into his mouth. "Feels like the entire roster of superheroes is out there right now and a whole bunch of muckety-mucks have descended on Stark Tower with 'em. There's not a quiet corner to be had, except here."

Rhodey’s head whipped around. "Seriously?"

Clint nodded. "Seriously."

"Shit," Rhodey said, almost to himself. He frowned as he looked over at Clint. "Hill and Fury out there, too?"

"Yup."

Rhodey sighed. "May as well stay then. So long as you don't mind if I have my legs off."

Clint twisted his hearing aids and pulled them out, putting them in the pocket of his tac pants. "Only if you don't mind if I take my ears out."

Rhodey grinned and turned on the closed captioning, then swiveled sideways so he was facing Clint fully. "Not one little bit."

Clint grinned back and they both settled into a comfortable silence to watch the game.

About the time the third inning was winding down, the door swung open with a crash and Barnes entered, grumbling about crazy, strong-willed women and stubborn, unyielding men.

He stared daggers at the back of Clint's head. "How the hell do you manage to work with those people on a daily basis, Barton? I swear, I'm ready to shoot the lot of them!"

"He can't hear you," Rhodey said conversationally, still watching the game. "He has his aids out."

"Aids?" Bucky asked, sounding confused as hell.

At that, Rhodey turned around and he almost laughed at the comically confused expression on Bucky's face. "Yeah, he wears hearing aids. You didn't know that?"

Bucky shook his head. "No. Since when?"

Rhodey shrugged. "Ever since I've known him. Some kind of accident when he was a kid."

"I know you're talking about me," Clint said suddenly, keeping his eyes on the screen. "Do you think you could maybe not?"

Rhodey prodded Clint's shoulder until he turned to face him and then signed awkwardly to him.

Bucky snorted.

"You're doing it wrong. You need to put your pinky over there, like this," he said, coming over in three long strides and repositioning Rhodey’s fingers.

Clint looked mildly impressed. "You know sign language?"

It was Bucky's turn to shrug. Slowly and clearly, so Clint could read his lips, he said, "Hydra made sure we all knew the basics to get through covert ops. I was more adept at it than the others thanks to all the ways they messed with my head."

"You should come around this way if you're gonna make me read your lips," Clint invited half-heartedly. He gestured to a mini-fridge in the corner. "And bring more beer over here. We're running low."

Bucky did as he asked, setting three ice cold beers on the table before snagging a few pretzels to eat.

"So… is this the new hang out for broken superheroes?" Bucky asked around a mouthful.

Rhodey shrugged. "Maybe. Could be."

"Think a one-armed super soldier could join you?"

"Looks like you still got both arms to me," Rhodey observed, looking him up and down.

Bucky snorted and reached around to fiddle with the connections at his shoulder, sighing in relief as the locking mechanisms on his cybernetic arm released. With a twist and a pull, he detached his arm and set it down on the floor. "And now I've got one."

Clint snickered and Rhodey shot him a look before eyeing Bucky critically. "I think we've got room for one more in that case."

Bucky nodded his thanks and then grabbed the whole bowl of pretzels for himself before dropping down into the recliner beside the couch. Clint and Rhodey shot him a disgusted look, but he just shrugged it off. "What are we watching?"

"Yanks versus the Sox. The Mariner's game is on afterwards if we need something else to keep us out of the fray out there," Clint said, gesturing towards the door.

Bucky nodded again. "Good plan."

They all settled in and were getting to the seventh inning stretch when out of the blue Rhodey said, "Hey, maybe next time we should invite Matt."

Bucky signed what he said to Clint.

"There gonna be a next time?" Clint asked.

"Sure, why not? Wilson's got a thing going for mentally messed up Avengers," Rhodes said with a pointed look at Bucky. "Why can't we have one for physically messed up Avengers?"

"The man's got a point," Bucky said.

Clint nodded. "So he does."