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The specially-reinforced doors flew inward and tempered, bullet-proof glass shattered musically. Clint looked over from the couch and sighed. Tony was going to have to rebuild the common room entrance again. Because it had nothing to do with him, the archer’s professionalism took over; he ignored the distraction and returned his focus to the task at hand. Namely, watching the wrestling.
“Ignorance!” boomed a familiar voice. “The ignorance shown by the peoples of this tiny world vexes me!”
The wrestling, it seemed, would have to wait. Clint shut off the TV and gave Thor his full attention. “What’s the matter, big guy?”
Thor paced the room angrily. His face was red and his brows arched. Clint was glad Mjolnir was nowhere to be seen, or there’d be more to repair than just the doors.
“Tony has informed me, in a most solemn manner, of the prejudices this world holds,” Thor snarled. One powerful hand flexed as if it were throttling the life out of an invisible opponent. “It galls me, fair archer. Galls me true.”
“Uh… right?” Clint replied, completely lost.
“That the peoples of these ‘United States’ are loathe to recognise love in all its forms is an evil most heinous,” Thor raged, swiping a tree-like arm in a wide arc. Clint could well imagine the move decapitating a heard of stampeding bilge snipe. “Their blindness, their cold hearts, it is infuriating.”
With surprising swiftness, Thor crossed the room and sat down next to Clint. He looked deeply into the assassin’s eyes, his handsome features set in a most curious manner. With surprising tenderness he placed his left hand on Clint’s shoulder, then took the archer’s right in his own. The grip was firm, yet gentle.
“Know this, Clint Barton,” Thor said earnestly. “Long ago did Asgard realise the folly of such ignorance and banish it to the depths of antiquity. Even had it not, the debt I have sworn to you and the Avengers would ‘ere overwhelm such foolish prejudice. You have my support, and proudly will I stand by your side against whatever the world may say.”
Clint was still speechless. “About… what, exactly?”
“You and the Son of Coul,” Thor said with a brotherly smile.
“What about me and Coulson, exactly?” Clint asked.
“Your love,” Thor said, earnest smile spreading ever-wider. “The passion that you share.”
“The what?”
“Clint, please – as I said, we are allies and there need be no secrets between us. That you would choose to bed another man is no shame.”
“That I what?”
“That we are warriors does not mean we are bereft of love,” Thor went on, oblivious to Clint’s shock. “Asgard’s finest are proof of such matters. Why, I remember one glorious battle in my youth… t’was the coldest of nights, after the fight had ended, and mighty Volstagg did look at grim Hogun and say…”
“What what what?”
Out in the hallway, beyond the shattered doors, Tony Stark giggled for the first time since childhood. As he fought… and failed… to regain his composure, Steve Rogers shook his head in disgust.
“This is why you spent the afternoon on that internet thing?” he sighed. “Honestly, Tony…”