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Clint has been gone for almost a month now, when the sound of a Quinjet’s engines fill the skies around Stark Tower. Steve drops the book he had been reading and heads straight to the roof, because Clint. He misses his lover? Boyfriend? And he’s been waiting for coming to four weeks and he’s been worried sick. Clint had promised, before he left, that it wasn’t a dangerous mission, just a lot of long recon missions and waiting and watching and a few quick kill shots and he’d be back and they could pick up where they left off, familiarizing themselves with each other. They’d only just agreed to call it serious before Clint had been pulled away.
So sue him if he wanted his lover back as soon as possible. Steve had taken to drawing Clint from memory, the strong set of his shoulders as he held his bow and arrow ready, the curves and dips of his back as he sprawled on Steve’s sheets, the sharp, unwavering focus of his eyes as he flipped pancakes for breakfast. But they were all just pieces of Clint, Steve wanted all of him, the real Clint. So he took the stairs three at a time to the roof access and was just in time to see the Quinjet land briefly, the hatch lowering and Clint stalking down the gangway onto the gravel. Steve grinned as Clint smiled slightly, but Steve felt his smile slip and the worry that he’d carefully put aside come pushing it way back to the centre at the sight of Clint.
He’s lost some weight, his cheeks seem a little more sunken, his wrist guards had shifted from the position Clint had them custom made to fit, his belt cinched one position tighter. His eyes are rimmed red and bloodshot, as if he hasn’t been sleeping and his dark circles look more like bruises.
“Steve, babe, I can see you worrying from a mile away.” Clint says as he strode up to Steve. The smile he wears is honest, but tired and Steve can see the fine tremors that shook practically Clint’s entire body now that he is up close. How long had Clint been staying awake? How long had Clint been pushing himself to his physical limit? Steve has seen Clint in battle, not once has he looked this worn out.
“How could I not worry? Clint, you look… you look…”
“-like a roadkill raccoon?” Clint tries, his laugh as tired as he looks. Steve takes his bag from him and Clint lets him, but holds on tight to his bow, holding it to his chest. The Quinjet is gone and it’s just them on the roof now. Steve gently slips a hand around the back of Clint’s neck to run through his hair, which has grown out over the month he’s been away. Clint drops his head forward, to rest against Steve’s broad chest and Steve hears and feels his heavy sigh.
Clint lets the bow fall away from his chest, and Steve wraps his other arm around Clint’s waist and pulls him close, so Clint can rest against him completely. Steve can feel the tremors, the tightness of Clint’s neck and shoulder muscles.
“Let’s go inside. There’s food if you want to eat, but if you don’t, I can make you a smoothie.” Steve slips his arm around Clint’s shoulder and turns them, to guide Clint to the stairs. Clint just leaves his eyes shut and lets Steve guide him down the stairs.
“Got any bananas?” Clint asks, when they get to their level. Steve smiles to himself, he’d already prepared a banana-yoghurt smoothie for Clint and left it in the chiller.
Steve leads Clint to their room and sits him on the couch, the curtains already drawn and the lights turned down low. “You can open your eyes now.”
Clint opens his eyes slowly, and Steve winces at how red they are. But Clint doesn’t wince at the low lights, instead he smiles and says, “I have the best boyfriend in the world.”
Steve feels himself blush. “Just rest here for a little while, I’ll get you a smoothie and water, you have your migraine pills with you?”
Steve makes sure Clint is as comfortable as he can be before leaving the room for the kitchen. He’s halfway to the kitchen when Natasha pops up around a corner, smoothie in one hand and a big bottle of cold water in another. She smiles (at least, what passes for a smile with Natasha, and Steve’s learnt to tell) at him and hands them over. “Take care of him.”
Steve smiles. He had been wary and jealous at first, of the intense friendship Clint and Natasha shared. But as he got closer to Clint, he started to understand just how much they needed and understood each other, that for a long time, they were the only people they could trust, and Steve could never begrudge Clint that comfort. Steve then started to notice they’d started to include him into their sparring sessions, training and gossip even. He took that as Natasha’s silent approval.
She waves and wanders back off and Steve heads back to the room. Clint is fumbling with the shoelaces of his combat boots, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Steve sets the two drinks down on the side table and kneels in front of Clint. Clint looks up at him, tired grin on his face.
“You gonna propose, babe?” Clint leans forward and Steve catches hold of his arms, as they kiss, gently, just a meeting of lips.
“Not today, Clint, but if you’ll have me, someday I will.” Steve whispers into Clint’s parted lips as they rest their foreheads against each other. Steve feels Clint tremble harder as his earth-blue eyes shut. Steve tilts his head up and brushes a kiss over Clint’s eyes and forehead and smoothes his fingers through Clint’s hair. Steve just holds Clint for a while, reveling in the ability to just be with him.
After a while, Clint wiggles and reaches for his boots again, but Steve intercepts his hands, putting the smoothie in his grip and then working on Clint’s boots. The silence of the room is broken only by the sounds of Clint’s boots thumping to the floor and Clint sucking down the last dregs of the smoothie through the thick, bendy straw.
“You make the best smoothies.” Clint declares, flopping forward into Steve’s arms and curling up around him as Steve shifts closer to him. The glass manages to find its way to the table, Steve is convinced Clint managed to throw it there with his perfect aim, and Steve hoists Clint close and tight, slipping hands under Clint’s thighs so he can lift him up and move over to their supersized bed. Clint is a shade lighter than he was before he left and Steve decides when Clint has rested enough, they are going to work on getting that weight back.
He sets Clint gently on the covers and fights hard not to give in when Clint reaches out for him. Instead, he grabs the water and digs through Clint’s bag for his migraine pills. Clint is pouting, an action which has not right to look as cute as it does, and presses the length of his arm against Steve’s thigh when Steve sits down next to him. Steve makes Clint take his pills because the migraines are going to be a pain to deal with if he doesn’t and Clint’s lack of protest only goes to tell Steve that Clint’s already feeling the migraine.
Steve pushes at Clint gently til he flops over onto his belly, arms spread eagled. Steve smiles to himself as he shifts to lean over Clint’s back. Steve is careful not to press too hard as he massages Clint’s neck and shoulders. Clint’s moans and groans are muffled by the bedding, but it still manages to reach Steve’s sensitive ears and damn if it doesn’t get his attention. He has to shift a couple of times to make himself a little more comfortable and he’s pretty sure at one point of time Clint was snickering into the covers.
“Can you sit up? We need to get your top off so that I can get to your back.” Steve urges Clint up slowly. The tac-vest is first to go, chucked in the general direction of the couch, and when Steve slips his hands under Clint’s black tee-shirt to push it up and off, he’s sad to notice he can feel each bump of Clint’s ribs.
“I really need to feed you up again, don’t I?” Steve whispers quietly, more to himself than to Clint, but the archer leans forward to kiss Steve anyway, before grinning up at him. “I’ve been looking forward to your cooking the whole time I was away babe, so feed me all you want.”
“That’s good.” Steve smiles and rewards Clint with more kisses when the archer makes kissy faces at him. The last time Clint went on a mission, he’d returned only to disappear and not want to eat or talk to anyone about it. Steve had tried everything he’d thought of, all of Clint’s favourite foods, and nothing worked. Eventually, when he’d passed out in the ducts of Stark Tower (and Steve will forever be thankful to Jarvis for alerting them all when Clint had lost consciousness), they’d pulled him out and started him on a drip. Passing out seemed to have shook something in Clint, because he’d started eating again after that. Steve always prayed that Clint never had an assignment like that again, it had scared Steve and the rest of the Avengers and none of them ever wanted a repeat of that.
Clint’s clever hands start to wonder as Steve licks at Clint’s lips and Steve is torn between being amused and worried. “I don’t think you should be doing anything strenuous, you should be resting and sleeping.”
Clint pouts, again, it is a ridiculously cute look on a full grown man. “But we’ve both been alone for so long.” He reaches for Steve again and again Steve catches his hands.
“So we can wait a couple more hours till your hands aren’t shaking anymore.” Steve says as gently as he can, while Clint tries hard to control the tremors. Steve tempers his choice by peppering kisses into Clint’s hair and temple and Clint sighs softly.
Steve takes that as Clint’s acquiescence and guides him to lie back down on his front. This time Steve works down Clint’s back and he winces in sympathy at all the knots he can feel in the muscle. “How long did you have to wait for the shot?” Steve asks, leaning down to brush a kiss into the shell of Clint’s ear.
“Too long.” Clint sighs, but relaxes under Steve’s hands.
“Okay. Okay. I’m here. Now.” Steve mouths kisses into Clint’s shoulder. Clint flips back over under him and reaches his arms up for Steve. Steve curls down into him, curling Clint into his arms. Clint sighs, happily this time and starts to wrestle Steve down to lie with him. Steve lets Clint move him till he’s satisfied, like he’s a big teddy bear and smiles when Clint practically wraps Steve around himself, Steve’s chest to Clint’s back and Steve’s arms and legs wrapped around Clint’s body. Steve quickly learnt that Clint felt safest when he was surrounded by familiarity, hence his duct nests and Steve teddy bear. Clint hates being in the open and vulnerable, so Steve quickly got used to pillow and blanket forts when Clint was feeling especially shaken, as well as being used as a giant snuggie.
Steve definitely didn’t mind.
Clint chuffed softly and Steve leant in to nuzzle at Clint’s hair. He didn’t care that Clint probably needed a shower, he was just thankful to have Clint back and safe. Steve holds Clint close till his breathing evens out and Steve can feel his heartbeat, slow and steady. The evening sunlight falls spills over them from between the curtains and this will mess up Steve’s sleep cycle for sure, but he finds himself feeling complete now, and lets himself be lulled into sleep by Clint’s soft breaths.
~*~
Natasha glares at anyone who even dares to set foot on Steve and Clint’s floor.
Tony steps out of the elevator, does an about turn when he sees her and goes back in. Thor starts to boom when he exits the elevator, but cuts himself off when she narrows her eyes. Bruce…. Bruce gets a pass to check on Clint once over with a newfangled Stark scanner and smiles softly when he’s leaving.
Steve and Clint are her boys. She takes care of them so that they can take care of each other.