[Nock and Loose]

I have a dog [Closed RP Account]

[ninja-weapons]

Robot fight with katanas

[ammit420]

we are witnessing history in the making

[baxterqueen-blog]

Tell me, are you made of Copper and Tellurium? because you are CuTe

Mmm, are you made of Nickel, Cerium, Arsenic and Sulfur? 

Because you’ve got a NiCe AsS! 

[hawkuponthewatchtower]

NERDS

[katnieh-deactivated20150103]

[when-it-rains-it-snows]

in which Kate finds an old picture, circus-era old, and wants to know if Clint can still do that?

girly-girl I have no idea

let’s find out

and Lucky thinks it’s pretty great

dad what are you DOING

are we PLAYING?

DO YOU NEED HELP I CAN HELP I AM A GOOD DOG

[rubberbandtheory]

New Beginnings: Clint, Susan & Reed [closed RP]

[rubberbandtheory]

As per usual, his brain was several steps ahead of his body; while he’d been busy dwelling on still very new relationship change, his brain had gone into overdrive, trying to puzzle out each and every variance; not a terribly useful or helpful thing to be doing.

So Clint had excellent timing in that respect, because it meant his body could catch up, blinking and snapping back into the present when Clint jiggled his pockets, indicating he had the apartment keys and his wallet, while sliding a hand along his lower back. 

Reed wondered if Clint had picked up that mannerism from Susan. He wasn’t complaining, because it was very nice- and then Lucky sped for the elevator, not prepared to wait more than necessary for his walk. Of course now he was determined not to overthink about his personal matters, his mind then latched onto the foyer and lift and how…very un-Clint like this building was. His musing clearly written all over his face if the blond felt the need to explain himself.

“While it is a nice building, it just doesn’t seem to suit you. I mean- forgive me but you don’t seem very comfortable living here. But I can understand not getting along with the landlord, it’s mostly why er…I’m the landlord of the Baxter Building.”

He muttered that last part; he suspected if he had to answer to a strata manager he’d be evicted in an eye blink, given all the hazardous materials he [digilgently!] used in his laboratory.

Reed gently tugged at the leash, reminding Lucky to trot at a slower pace so he could stay abreast of Clint and not leave him behind. 

"It’s a shame you didn’t. As much as I’ve tried, some of the original facade had to be replaced when the er..’space whale’ crashed into the upper levels.” 

He was rambling but he suspected Clint didn’t mind; the footpath was light on traffic, and the sky clear of any rain clouds.

“I was always a fan of the angular lines of art deco; it’s despite some calls for me to upgrade the outward appearance, I’ve refused. Well…..I had to modify the roof for a landing pad. But the lower thirty levels are as close as I could get to the original blueprints; some adjustments made in the rare event something else crashes into the building. Or its shot into space. You never can tell with the kind of things we get up to.”

Reed trailed off, pondering if he could get city approval to install anti-gravity nets in the building, among other things.

Both Clint’s apartment block and the Baxter Building sat in the upper-end of Manhattan island, in the series of blocks lined with multi-million dollar condo blocks and office towers. So it didn’t take long for them to arrive; even while taking a slow pace. Lucky, remembering the smell and sight of the building, barked and danced, yanking on Reed’s arm as he bounded towards the brass and glass trimmed doors.

Reed let out a yelp, before stumbling to catch up to his elongated arm while Lucky’s ears flooded back in an apology of sorts, the canine forgetting his generally impeccable manners. Clint laughed, not minding he had to hobble a bit faster to catch up while Reed and Lucky waited by the door.

"Dr Richards! I trust you enjoyed er..your outing?"

Jimmy, the ever vigilant doorman stepped over and held the door open, gesturing to Reed to ask that Clint was, in fact his guest and not one of the few ‘fans’ that tried to sneak into the building. Reed nodded and smiled sheepishly, Lucky’s lead tangled around his rubbery arm. He lacked his left arm to unsnare himself at the moment but it was hardly the least undignified thing he’d been caught doing.

"Jimmy. This is Clint Barton. A very dear friend of mine and Susan."

Of course it was much more than that. 

[hawkuponthewatchtower]

"Trust me, if I could be the landlord of my own place here I'd take that option happily," Clint remarked with a laugh. "I mean, the option to go totally off the grid is always there for me, but... I had a feeling I needed to stick around." 

It was a good thing he did, too. Clint shared a warm smile with Reed, resisting the urge to seek contact as they wandered the blocks toward the Baxter Building, and he settled for letting their shoulders gently brush as they walked closely huddled, Lucky happily trotting in the lead. If he'd properly uprooted himself and gone back home proper, got settled back into simple life without fighting and all the avenging crap, he'd of missed out on this chance.

With a soft grin Clint suggested, "I should take us all on a vacation sometime to my home back in Iowa. S'big property, no one either side for a few miles. It's really nice." 

Not to mention Natasha and Coulson had helped him scrub out any records of it being owned by him. Not even SHIELD knew unless they actively tailed him. It'd be a great place to go and escape for a while without any of the media scrutiny or hogwash that tended to happen in NYC. 

Hearing Reed talk so animatedly about the building had Clint's heart doing a strange little skip-step beat, settling into a warm thrum that filled his being in a way that he hadn't felt for so long after Bruce... 

Soon they were standing near the grandiose building itself in it's restored glory. Lucky, as gracefully as any one-eyed overexcited dog could, ecstatically made for the elegant doorway despite still being attached to a lead, which was attached to a thankfully stretchy man. Clint laughed brightly at the spectacle, not caring that it hurt a little more to hobble that bit faster to keep up as they crossed the last little leg to make it to the doors himself. 

"Lucky!" He chided when he caught up, though there was arguably not a lot of bite if any at all in his tone. "You're just a big excitable puppy sometimes I swear, geeze." 

The labrador wuffed happily, tail swishing from side to side along the ground as someone approached the doors and pulled one open courteously, something that had Clint blink in surprise -- of course a building like the Baxter Building would have a doorman to vigilantly see to the attendants coming and going, given how public and well known the Fantastic Four were, but it still came as a surprise. 

"Nice t'meet you," Clint drawled, extending a hand to Jimmy whom accepted it with his gloved one firmly. "Looks like someone else is happy to see you too." 

Jimmy huffed a laugh at that. Lucky was busy trying to butt his head into the man's leg except he was somewhat stuck in place because he'd tangled his lead all around Reed's legs. Clint hooked his cane over his arm to free up both hands and unclasped the lead, which let Lucky fulfil his wish of saying hello to the friendly man and then excitedly trot inside. 

More importantly it meant there was 100% less dog on the lead trying to make it more of a mess, which meant Clint was able to just pull it free from Reed's legs. 

The pair went inside, Jimmy closing and securing the door behind them as they made for the elevator. Clint found himself rather awestruck by the gilded gorgeous work, of which even without the world being in colour for him was practically sparkling gold in his minds eye.

"Wow, you really do have an eye for detail. After being around Stark's places for so long with all their modern design it's.. a very nice change." 

[hawkuponthewatchtower]

Its been three days and I still cant get that chopstick out of the wall.

Sue is gonna kill us.

[bobbimorses]

[hawkuponthewatchtower]

[rubberbandtheory]

New Beginnings: Clint, Susan & Reed [closed RP]

[rubberbandtheory]

Reed didn’t particularly appreciate Lucky attempting to kiss him as if the canine was trying to emulate the pair of them. He shoved the dog away gently only to have his hand caught in Lucky’s jaws as he chewed on the rubbery skin, making a contented wuff at the loud squeaking it produced. Clint wasn’t spared from the canine either, until Lucky hovered around the door, sensing a walk was about to happen.

The mood wasn’t…ruined per say, just suspended until they met up with Sue. And Reed could hardly be mad at Lucky; the dog was excited to see him; and maybe the canine was also happy to see his master being with someone again.

All thoughts of Lucky dissipated when Clint drew attention to his current state of undress; and that he was still bare chested. Well, bare chested enough to make Reed stare again; less in concern and more in speculation…

"As long as the shirt comes off again.”

He might have mumbled that last part. And then blushed furiously for it. That smirk with the vague connotations, well it made his ear tips burn in that ‘adorable’ way Sue enjoyed needling him about. He was probably doing that awkward toothless-looking grin he did when he was both flustered and excited.

At least Clint was used to him being socially inept. He just tended to feel things at full intensity; negative emotions he was fairly good at smothering but those times he was overly happy or delighted? It showed and made him lousy at poker. But clearly endearing to those around him; or so he liked to think.

The goofy smile was probably still on his face when Clint tenderly brushed a hand through his hair [he really liked that] as he got up to get dressed.

“Take your time. There’s no rush.”

He added a quiet trill to the end of that sentence; the sound slipping out. Reed knew that getting dressed when not being able-bodied was a difficult and strenuous task, regardless of what specific injury it might be.

Lucky whined and pawed at the door. Reed got up off the couch, collected the glasses with his one hand and put them in the sink after rinsing them. Then he stood next to the labrador, gently petting and stroking his ears.

“Soon boy, we’ll go for a walk. Just need to wait for Clint.”

Reed spied the well worn leash hanging by the door and picked it up, clipping it onto the dog’s collar. Lucky’s paws tapped along the floor in a joyful rhythm before he settled down; smart enough to know that he still had to wait.

Which gave time for Reed to think about what had just happened; he had absolutely no regrets about welcoming Clint into his relationship with Sue, no doubts or regrets; just concern.

Clint had been through a lot; the ugly fallout of Sark Tower certainly had curbed Reed’s enthusiasm once he’d sat down with Sue and hashed out his feelings. Despite some hiccups and secrets; both of them were doing their best to remain as open as possible and Reed really couldn’t..and wouldn’t hide his love for Clint. It was just how he was; when he did form relationships, he tended to go for the deep end or not at all. And in this case, fallen for the archer in several ways.

As for the polygamy aspect; it wasn’t jealousy he considered a problem, just…he wondered what Clint thought of it. He seemed shocked; and Reed supposed it wasn’t something he’d advertised but…well..

Sometimes sharing was difficult. Even he had trouble with it, despite his romantic past being as disjointed as his body could be. But they would make it work. They would work. This was hardly a fling or a set of car keys tossed in a bowl; this was important.

Reed was snapped out of his thoughts by Clint entering back into the room, clearing his throat and smiling, making a gesture for Lucky’s leash.

“If it’s okay, I’d like to walk him. You..good to go? you don’t need anything before we leave?”

[hawkuponthewatchtower]

Clint's grin was decidedly lopsided and all kinds of soppy at the idea of his shirt coming off again, and gave him a little bit more spring in his otherwise measured steps with his cane. 

It was nice to not feel nervous or ashamed of the state of his body for a change. 

The blonde made it into his room and first took to the bathroom, splashing some water on his face and freshening up a smidgeon given he'd been breaking out quite the sweat before Reed had arrived. Once he felt he was presentable enough in that respect, he then tackled clothing, a task that usually would be considered easy but was then a bit difficult given his state.

A well practiced routine however did make it less arduous: first he selected the freshly washed soft clothes, then laid them out on the bed so he could sit on the edge to dress. Casual slacks, comfortably well worn and soft over compression dressings and injuries, were topped off with an equally comfortable tee, with some kind of bird design on it that Nat had gotten him, and a side-zip hoodie over the top so he kept nice and warm. Next to Reed he was going to look like the chalk to his cheese, but the archer hardly cared and doubted Reed or Sue would either. 

Hell, anything outside of combat gear was a step-up for him, frankly. 

Clint wormed his feet into some cosy socks and converse, hunted down his wallet and keys from inside the bedside table which were stuffed into his pockets, and worked his way out into the open-plan kitchen-lounge-foyer that made up the majority of the apartment. Any nervous flutter of butterflies in his stomach that tried to stir up drifted away at the sight of Reed by the door, Lucky patiently sitting by him and already clipped up with his lead. 

The genius was clearly deep in thought. 

Clint cleared his throat quietly, lips splitting into an open grin when Reed owlishly blinked at him, and gestured to the leash. 

"By all means. You've got the bonus of stretchy arms, so he knows for a fact he can bound off ahead and not trip you up," Clint said, easily resting his fingers against the small of Reed's back as he opened the door for them. "I'm all good. Got m'wallet and keys. That's all I need on me these days." 

He had a phone somewhere. Thought it likely had a discharged battery that he hadn't been bothered to charge because he'd lost touch -- and deliberately withdrawn himself at the same time. He certainly didn't need the damn thing then anyway. It'd be just Clint's luck to get a call from someone like Tony trying to check in on him while he was having a rather life-changing 'meeting' at the Baxter Building, and that was not on. 

To hell with 'em. Right then nothing was more important than what was going on. 

Clint smiled as Lucky lead the charge out the door once it was open, Reed following the eager canine with Clint taking the rear so he could lock and bolt his door, before catching up with Reed to get into the elevator, leaning against his cane and the wall as he pressed the button for the lobby of the awkwardly extravagant building. The gilding of the lift was definitely one of the many indicators of how out of place Clint looked for a place of such calibre, and his keen eyes didn't miss the way Reed was likewise looking at it critically. 

"SHIELD," Clint explained to his arched brow. "My -- the scars on my back and hip. They were from a mission gone real' bad a long time ago. They relocated me out of Brooklyn to here with that big fancy apartment for my rehab. I bought it out from them when I got back into duty so they can't repo it from me or anything, 'cause lets face it they would, but it's still... Well lets just say my land lord doesn't like me much." 

He grinned and winked at Reed for that, scruffing up his own hair even more than it normally was so he looked more like a freshly awoken bird. 

Lucky excitedly wuffed, and Clint reached down and lovingly rubbed his head too. 

The doors swished open once they hit the ground floor, and Clint found himself blushing somewhat and shyly smiling when Reed kept pace with him and his cane. Such a small gesture went a long way.

"Y'know, I don't think I ever got to see the Baxter Building up close properly before it got space-whaled," Clint added as they made it outside, the archer blinking rapidly for a moment as his high-contrast vision adjusted to the UV from the sun. "But I remember shots of it in the paper or in SHIELD files and it looked like it would fit some 1920's art deco style in a movie."

[infuction]

i used to take ASL and this was by far the best thing in my book

[rubberbandtheory]

New Beginnings: Clint, Susan & Reed [closed RP]

[rubberbandtheory]

Clint had stiffened up while they were both embraced and while he couldn’t see the other man’s face, his finger tips could feel the full body tension; the physical turmoil of what Reed had just confessed. And for a moment, Reed felt awful for saying anything; surely keeping the peace would have been better, he was cruel for dangling himself in front of someone that had feelings for him—

Then that little bark of relief seemed to break the tension like it was never there.

He was still nervous however; jokes about Sue eviscerating him aside: Clint hadn’t actually said anything yet to say he wanted this or he didn’t. Both of them were admittedly terrible at saying things [Reed’s less than stellar attempt just then of asking Clint out was a good example] so Reed was patient; understanding that he had dumped a lot onto Clint in the space of a minute.

The shy, little, almost mumbled ‘I love you too’ was worth the internal hand wringing he had been doing. 

“Of course we would have you; we..talked about it at length. About how much you mean to me, to both of us. It would mean so much if you’d be a part of us.”

It felt strange, to be the one taking charge; but he didn’t miss the self depreciating posture Clint presented; he was aware of Clint’s past; how he might consider it made him appear broken but Reed cared for all aspects of his frie-partner including the…’roughness’ of some of it. His hand strayed from Clint’s head down to between his shoulders; the frantic thrum of his pulse could still be felt.

His own heart danced; this happiness when Clint leaned forward, foreheads and noses touching. Reed smiled, his hand then gently rubbing tense shoulder muscles, fingertips barely tracing the contours of the masses of scar tissue along the archers back. The invitation for a kiss was there; and Reed took it, leaning in just that little bit more to brush his lips against Clint’s. It was hardly a deep or overly passionate kiss; he didn’t particularly want to rush headlong into anything, but it was nice; nice to bridge that gap in their relationship to each other and make it…tangible to each other.

So strange; once he had gotten it in the open, it felt like nothing had changed; in retrospect; he supposed there was little difference between what they had and what they now have.

This time, both of them met for a another kiss; this time Reed licking across Clint’s dry lips and drawing one in to nip at it gently before parting again.

Lucky then decided that now was a good time to try and crawl into Reed’s lap, making a whining sound as if he wanted affection; not content with idle pats and ear tickling.

“I think, if you were up to it, this might be a good time to come and visit the Baxter Building. Sue needs to be a part of this first step too.”

Lucky wuffed and jammed his nose into Reed’s shirt, getting slobber all over it. Sighing, Reed poked the labrador in the nose, the dog then head butting the hand and trying to bite onto it playfully.

“ And I think Lucky needs out as well.”

[hawkuponthewatchtower]

The world honed into nothing but the tiny space between them in that instant to Clint, the archer's heart pounding heavily enough that it practically echoed in his ears. Reed's fingers soothed aching muscles that were tense from both pain and the nervousness that had welled up, practically going gelatinous, and he softly sighed against Reed's mouth as the small gap between them became nothing. 

Such a small, gentle kiss. Reed's lips were as deceptively soft as his fingers. 

It felt so damn good. Clint's heart practically was in his throat, thrumming away like a hummingbird at a feeder for how excited it seemed, fuelling his nerves with electricity and fire and ice all at once. The pull of it all emotionally damn well hurt, and it was such a nice pain after all that he'd otherwise endured since the world had more or less been turned upside down. Clint was wanted. Wanted and loved. And by god he loved them back tremendously. 

The second kiss had both of them meeting in the middle, the archer feeling a little more confident and less insecure, the spark of Reed's tongue ghosting over his lips just about making him swoon for the throb of his heart. He never used to be so dependant on such physical needs or affections. But things like Bruce had happened, and it'd been amazing and he'd discovered for himself how nice it was to be secure, safe, and comforted by others physically after so many years of not letting people in. Reed himself had broken part of that barrier as well, just when they'd first met, and they'd slowly become more tactile the longer they'd known one another. 

That tactile nature between them, in addition to their already strong emotional bond, made the idea of transitioning their relationship together and with Sue all the more natural. Like a further extension of something that had already really been there, just untapped. 

About then Lucky shoved his paw right against Clint's tender leg in his scramble to butt in on the cuddles and kisses. The archer winced, but laughed it off, pushing the labrador more onto Reed's lap where he proceeded to attempt monstering his partner to death with affection. 

"I -- the Baxter Building would be nice. I haven't been out a lot, save for physio, and we need Sue," Clint agreed, stifling a laugh as Lucky got a good grip on Reed's hand that the elastic skin squeaked like a rubber duck. "Plus, I'm sure Lucky'll be very fit to entertain himself once we get there to save you from being his favourite chew-toy." 

Lucky wuffed happily, gnawing (though Clint always was relieved that it was a gentle truly playful bite) on Reed's hand for a bit before letting go, rounding on the archer, and giving him a nice big slobbery kiss across the cheek. 

"Thanks." 

Bark! 

Clint laughed and ruffled Lucky's neck before playfully pushing him off of them and the couch, the labrador happily flopping and rolling about the floor for a moment before slinking up and trotting off in the direction of the door to patiently wait, as if he knew that the mere mention of Baxter Building meant a walk or a trip of some kind. 

Shaking his head, Clint wiped his cheek free of dog slobber with the small neck towel that was on the coffee table, taking a moment to look at himself in his half-dressed, faux mummy wannabe attire to which he scoffed. 

"I uh, should probably get dressed. I don't need to get beaten up for indecency just because you like my shirt being off," Clint quipped, a small smirk pulling across his features as he winked at Reed. 

Making Reed blush like that just... it felt amazing. Because it was him directly that caused it, not some general flustered frustration or embarrassment. The archer had a strong feeling that Sue likewise had a similar fondness for doing such a thing, if the way Reed's ear-tips would glow red for some of the things he'd mentioned about his wife in the past were anything to go by.

Already that possible common ground there made the idea of meeting Sue in a much more personal -- so much more personal -- way a little less daunting. Oh, Clint already had admired her for quite a while. Her charm, her attitude, the way she carried herself and everything about her, were all to die for, so the attraction was already there. It was just getting used to it being accepted and reciprocated. 

Man, this poly thing was so damn new to him, the grizzled archer from Iowa, and he knew there'd be some stumbling blocks for him, but he would do his best. 

For them. 

Clint slowly got up, lumbar popping loudly for the shift of his hips as he grasped for his cane, and he reached over to brush through Reed's soft hair. 

"Be right back. Hopefully Lucky won't get too impatient." 

[nataliaromancv-blog]

Clint Barton, you dummy. "Back in a sex." She's gonna think you're such a goon-- Hawkeye #03

[rubberbandtheory]

New Beginnings: Clint, Susan & Reed [closed RP]

[rubberbandtheory]

“Don’t feel bad for not visiting. You’ve been busy recuperating from a horrendous situation. I’m not upset about it at all.”

Reed’s singular hand stroked Clint’s hair, fingertips feathering stress points and gently rubbing circles at the base of the skull and loosing the tense muscles bunched from stress. The hand clenching his shirt loosened and gently patted Lucky, who decided to join in on the hug. The labrador looked at him longingly. If he was inclined to think the dog knew what he wanted to say; it seemed as if Lucky was trying to urge him on.

The opening was there but Reed hesitated and for a moment was tempted to beg off and claim it was nothing. 

But it wasn’t nothing, not to him and not to well…Clint either, once he gathered up the courage to take the leap. Something he was not used to doing; he was first and foremost, very much a scientist. Measuring ten steps forward before taking one.

He was getting better at that. Slowly. He needed to stop woolgathering and just be out with it. Clint was still pressed into his shoulder and if anything not making eye contact made it easier. Reed still kept his grip loose, but his fingers still stroking along strands of hair. Taking a deep breath, inhaling the musky…almost dry scent of the archer, he just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I..I..like you.”

Brilliant Scientist. Super Hero. And dumbest man alive.

"I mean I like-like you. Love you.” and then the floodgates opened.

“I know this probably isn’t the time to get attached but things never seem to go to plan, do they?” Reed nervously laughed.

“But I care for you and that’s…changed. Changed into something more and I need…I needed to tell you; to ask you. I want to be in your life…and I’d like you in ours.”

Reed squirmed in the silence that followed, feeling as if his stomach had dropped to his knees and his mouth felt as dry as cotton buds. Reed steeled himself to meet Clint’s eyes, unsure if he’d be met with a positive reaction or Clint grabbing that paperclip on the table and jamming it so far up his nose it would be lodged in his frontal sinuses.

He would love a kiss but he wasn’t going to push his luck. Settling for not upsetting his dear friend would be enough.

“I..did..did I mention me and Susan are polygamous?”

[hawkuponthewatchtower]

Clint hadn't realised that he could simultaneously feel joy and pure horror all at once until that very moment. Or that he was possibly as elastic as Reed somehow, because his stomach felt like it was somewhere in the vicinity of the floor. Maybe under the couch. Running out the door. 

Rest to follow. 

There was a struggle for words on his behalf, the archer instead just keeping silent as Reed practically overflowed like a river, his rich and gentle voice edged with nervousness that flowed right into Clint and chipped at the careful control he tried to keep about himself. Emotions were running high too; Clint had only just a few months ago had his boyfriend try to murder him -- rightfully so, he'd come to think, because he was damn well trying to blow up most of New York thanks to a creepy psycho god controlling him -- and he hadn't seen hide nor hair of Bruce since. Before that, Bruce had gone missing once again no thanks to Loki, and Clint had tried to find him and sought support in Reed and Sue. 

Hell, he was pretty sure he'd likewise said that he liked Reed quite a lot. It was just that he had still been ill from his brush with cosmically irradiated blood, so a lot of that was lost to a haze of tired upset while he'd been high-strung and panicking that Bruce was missing. 

So, at least for Clint, he didn't feel weirded out at all that the small seed of affection that had been nurtured between the pair of them had grown to what it had, because it was incredibly hard to ignore the lure of attraction once they'd started to become incredibly close friends, but the strings of Reed being married kind of threw giant axes into the fray.

Big, angry, invisible axes that would cleanly sever all his limbs and then eviscerate him with ruthless efficiency. 

And, shit, he never wanted to be one of those guys either. 

Steeling himself Clint carefully peeled himself back in Reed's grasp, making a conscious effort to not break the hug because it was just so damn good and he didn't want to upset Reed either, and got ready to let Reed down despite how much it hurt him to do so, before Reed shyly added one last thing that completely flipped everything onto it's fuckin' head. 

Polygamy. 

Clint's lips twitched, his brow knotted, and he barked out a quiet, nervous laugh of relief. 

"I -- was worried I was gonna become mince meat at the hands of Sue," Clint replied shakily, shyly smiling. 

"It's... a lot to take in."

Oh, god. He was such a fucking idiot. Clint drew a hand up and softly nestled his palm over Reed's sternum, not missing the ecstatic flutter of the scientist's heart beneath his touch. "That's a good thing. Real good, I'm just.. shit at sayin' stuff. You know that." 

Reed knew in spades, though Clint liked to ham it up to being part of his own roughish charms. 

The archer swallowed thickly and sucked in a deep breath, mind racing a million miles a minute as he tried to make sense of what he was feeling in that moment, while his gut instinct was telling him to stop being an ass by leaving Reed hanging and answer the damn man. 

"I love you too," he finally said after another beat, his drawl hushed and somewhat shy, lacking the usual bravado he flaunted as a mask as he bared himself. "You.. you an' Sue really want me? Would have me?"

Clint hardly considered himself the goddamn cupie-doll prize, especially given his current state, but the idea of being wanted after losing nearly everything was so good that it damn well hurt, his chest winding tight and heart practically tap dancing for the spike in his pulse. The part of him that was weary to trust, weary to open up, lingered in the back of his mind trying to say it was too damn good -- Reed and Sue were too damn good for him. 

It shut the hell up when he listed forward just a fraction. Grazed their noses together, foreheads nestled gently, eyelids low so the view of Reed's lips and jaw filtered through his long lashes. Clint sighed softly for just the proximity and the silent question as to if it would be okay to take the physical intimacy to that next step. 

[rubberbandtheory]

New Beginnings: Clint, Susan & Reed [closed RP]

[rubberbandtheory]

He didn’t miss how Clint pressed himself into his right side; Reed running hotter due to his mutation were clearly being taken advantage of to soothe strained muscles. Not that he was complaining. The closeness settled his nerves; touch always had that effect on him.

While it was good to hear that Clint was on the mend, physically. But there was no missing the clause that mentally, he was not. The atmosphere of the portent seemed to only intensify the feeling of loneliness. Reed wasn’t sure what Clint was about to say but he placed his glass down on the table so he could properly focus on what Clint has to say.

Blushing, he tugged at one of the buttons on his shirt.

“Well. yes. It is blue. The checkers that is. Jacket isn’t; I don’t think even I can pull that off. Contrary to belief my entire wardrobe isn’t blue. Just..most of it.”

And then Reed felt completely thoughtless at not realising Clint’s glasses would have been lost in the mansion fire. He hadn’t really considered making a new pair, just not realising the extent of how much of Clint’s life had been flipped upside down and each way. He felt as dumb as a brick right now.

“Don’t worry about the glasses, I can make a new pair for you, no problem. Honestly.”

Reed reached for Clint’s hand, stroking a thumb over the back of the bandaged hand, index finger tracing the veins and leylines. Reed was a problem solver; if he saw something that was in his power to help; he would try. But some things; they could not be solved by a simple gadget or invention. His keen eyes did pick up the ASL hand gesture.

“I..I can understand why it’s hard. And regardless how busy I am, you are always welcome. Always, please don’t  forget that.”

His hand strayed from his left shoulder, before crossing his fingers over his heart then, flicking his pinky finger, index and thumb in a pointed gesture before laying his hand flat on one knee.

Reed’s hand fidgeted again for a moment before oh hell with it and took the opening Clint have him; shifting around and drawing Clint into a generous and encompassing one armed hug. Letting Clint rest his head on his shoulder, his one arm stretching and coiling around him before his fingers carded through Clint’s hair, stroking and rubbing his scalp.

“I’m here. I know I haven’t been around these past few months, I am sorry. But you aren’t alone.”

Reed drew in a sniff, before tightening the hug; then loosening if Clint wanted to pull away. He hoped the other man wouldn’t, however. Whispering, he closed his eyes, fingers still stroking straw blonde hair.

“I did come here to see you, but I also came here to tell you something as well.”

[hawkuponthewatchtower]

That one single, simple, but incredibly heartfelt and meaningful sign almost broke Clint. Chipped through the very fragile wall that he had been attempting to maintain since Natasha had last had a chance to see him a few weeks ago. 

Reed took initiative before Clint could even properly fathom how badly he needed the physical affection. It was like being wrapped up in the warmest, softest blanket in both a literal and metaphorical sense, Clint sinking into Reed's rubberbanded embrace with a deep, shaken sigh; face nestled against the crook of Reed's neck. 

God. It was almost criminal how good it felt. How nice it was letting someone physically and emotionally in.

Clint balled his fingers into the back of Reed's shirt and clung tight, breath faltering for a moment as it threatened to overwhelm him and practically crash over the archer's head like a wave. Reed's words instead washed over him like a sonorous lilting balm to the wounds that hadn't been touched since the disaster at Stark Tower. Fingers that arguably should've been lab-roughed yet were deceptively soft carded through his hair, dancing over electric nerves and cathartic pressure points with the utmost care, and Clint melted into Reed that little bit more.

I'm here. I know I haven't been around these past few months, I am sorry. But you aren't alone.

"I've been real' useless about being around too," Clint mumbled against Reed's neck. "No excuse when I could've just gotten a cab, I've just... it's. It's been rough." 

That excuse again; Clint lacked a proper word outside of 'hard' or 'rough' that seemed to fit in the puzzle piece, so it just stuck. 

Lucky butted his forehead against their knees, more or less muzzling in on their cuddle pile, and Clint strayed a hand away from where he'd bunched Reed's shirt in his fingers to gently rest against the dog's head. When Reed squeezed him tightly the archer practically went into deadweight contentment mode, and practically stayed that way even when Reed loosened off his grip a fraction. Clint's eyes drooped shut, remaining closed even when Reed mentioned that his visit had a dual purpose. 

"Mn?" 

Wow Barton, still as elegant as ever. 

Arranging his rather deadweight tongue to co-operate, a much more difficult task than he expected because Clint's senses were honed in on the soft tick of Reed's pulse and his scent, Clint then quietly elaborated more. 

"What's up?" He mumbled questioningly. "Y'can tell me anything, you know that yeah?" 

They'd both been through enough together that it was more or less already known and unspoken, but Clint wanted the reminder to be that bit more tangible. 

[rubberbandtheory]

New Beginnings: Clint, Susan & Reed [closed RP]

[rubberbandtheory]

He was prepared for Lucky jumping all over him; he hadn’t missed the labrador shoving his nose under the gap of the door and trying his best to impersonate Mr Fantastic himself by attempting to squeeze through the narrow gap. The dog managed to barge the door open nearly bowling Reed over in his enthusiasm to greet him. That did include the obligatory dog snout to the crotch before he was pushed into the small apartment.

“I erm..its no problem.” 

That was about the best he could mumble out in response to Clint apologising for being shirtless. Reed was somewhat tongue tied at the sight of Clint without a shirt on. Of course he was concerned by the sight of the compression bandages; but he had known that Clint was still healing from the disaster at Stark Tower. He didn’t know the details and frankly; they were best disclosed when the time was right. 

However his recent acknowledgment of his adoration of Clint did seem to make him notice how attractive, how downright desirable the archer was. No he was not tracing that drop of sweat as it dripped past—

Good grief.

He felt like he’d regressed a good twenty or so years to his pubescent self. So caught up in his own self analysis of his thoughts he missed Clint copying his stare. The end result was the same, Reed blushed, cheeks and neck flushing before he smiled and tried to pass it off as a change on humidity. And was perhaps a bit too grateful to latch onto the offer of a drink as he licked his lips.

“I would love something to drink. I walked from the Baxter Building and well…got turned around a few times. You know me. Easily distracted.”

It was a half truth at least.

Lucky danced around his feet, whining to be pet and cuddled. It seemed he had missed all the walks and playtime Reed had given the dog while he had stayed at the Baxter Building; even good-naturedly putting up with being dressed in clothing and having his picture plastered over the internet.

While Clint was hobbling to the kitchen, Reed kneeled down and scratched at Lucky’s collar and ears, earning him sloppy kisses in return. And glanced around the apartment; neat but it had such a isolated and…well he hesitated to label it anything negative but if anything, the place broadcasted ‘loneliness’ and ‘subsistence’ as opposed to ‘home’. He hadn’t missed the confirmation that yes, Clint had been on his own for sometime.

Reed eyed the couch with the coffee table; which seemed to serve also as the dining table and physiotherapy device and sat down, Lucky resting his head on Reed’s knees. He met the canine’s one eyed gaze and mused if he was doing the right thing. As much as his feelings had bubbled and reached the point were he had to voice them, he also was wary of crossing that line between friendship and relationship. He certainly did not want to harm his friend either, given everything that had happened. It seemed that this kind of thing didn’t get easier the older you got.

As well as his habit of making things more complicated then they had to be.

Lucky woofed at him before sighing; his equivalent of a shrug.

Looked like he would have to wing it and hope for the best. Resisting to urge to just blurt it out, instead glanced over the couch and stretched his arm to pick up one of the glasses, saving Clint the trouble of juggling the drinks and his cane as he shuffled over. With a groan of relief Clint eased back into the couch next to him.

“I’ve missed you.”

Funny how he wanted to cram so much emotion into three words. His stomach still felt like it was squiggling around inside of him; something biologically possible but it was more likely nerves were getting the best of him. Taking a sip of the juice Clint has given him seemed to quell the jitters, at least for now.

“Are you..doing okay?”

Good job, Reed. Starting with a loaded question. 

But he was useless at small talk and if anything the pair of them had progressed past the need for it. He really wished he had two arms still, so he could rest one on Clint’s knee. Try to establish a tactile connection but in his current state it would mean splitting his left arm in two. His civilian clothes weren’t really designed for that and already things were awkward with a bared chest [ummph] and the somewhat cautious atmosphere of the room.

[hawkuponthewatchtower]

Easily distracted.

Yep. That was Reed. He always did have his head in the clouds in some way or the other -- either lost to thoughts, pondering on equations or any other magnificent science-thing that his rather amazing mind focused on at the time. Clint wouldn't have it any other way, though. 

The archer carefully worked his way to the open kitchen, pleased his offer had been accepted as it gave him a moment to compose himself away from Reed, to more or less set himself into social mode where he might not so awkwardly fumble over his words. Knowing Clint's luck though he'd keep happily hurdling over the damn things. Huffing a near silent laugh of amusement at the thought of that, Clint prised open his fridge and glanced at the somewhat sparse contents with a light frown -- he was due for a good shopping trip -- before settling upon the triangular shaped bottle of apple juice he had. 

No sooner had he wrangled two glasses that at least weren't mugs did Reed's lithe fingers coil around one all the way from the couch, stunning Clint momentarily before he offered an appreciative grin at the gesture. Saved him making two trips. He plucked up his own glass and worked his way to the couch, tiredly wondering if he should chuck his shirt back on before deciding that was just too hard, and he sunk into the cushions with a deep sigh. 

Felt good to be off that damn leg. Reed also was a walking heatpack, so being right next to him probably closer than necessary was like relief all in itself.

'I've missed you. Are you... doing okay?' 

Geeze, where to start.  "Probably not," Clint answered honestly, gulping down some of his fresh juice. "Physically, yeah. I'll heal, have healed from worse, it's just taking time and lots of hard work. Lucky makes sure I don't miss a single exercise tho'." 

The labrador's tail lazily swished against the ground at the mention of his name, a low rumble affirming just that. 

"I've missed you heaps," Clint added in a soft admission afterward, concentrating on the way his juice swirled around the glass when he tilted it. "I'm --"

Pretty sure you, Sue, and Lucky are all I have left. 

Clint switched gears though and teased gently, "You're looking great though. Much better than me, I'm all scruffy and failing in the shirt department."

In fact Clint was incredibly under-dressed with just his lounge pants on, especially when Reed was looking rather dapper. He meanwhile had hair probably sticking up in awkward directions and about three days worth of sandy stubble peppering his jaw. Made the lounge-pants only get up look even better. A-class act. 

"I'm hazarding a guess but most of the ensemble is blue," Clint added, smirking when Reed chuckled at the statement. "My goggles kinda got messed up -- Tony had no idea what to do to recreate them, just so you know -- and my glasses were... well. I think they melted into part of the mansion rubble. But I can imagine you in nearly every blue right now." 

The archer downed the rest of his drink and set the glass down on the table, softly ruffling the thicker fur around Lucky's shoulders and neck as he eased back into the couch again, the dog rumbling and lazily relaxing into Reed's knees, the scientist's joints naturally soft due to his mutation and acting more like a pillow for the spoilt dog. Hell, Clint was surprised Lucky wasn't drooling. Once he relaxed back properly, Clint tried his best to keep his hands idle in his lap as a moment of quietness elapsed between them -- only somewhat awkward because of the slightly charged air about them for things unspoken. 

"I saw that the Baxter Building was finished, on the news I mean. I haven't... I've been meaning to visit it's just been. Uhhn."

Clint curled his index and middle fingers of his hands into a claw-like shape, tapping the bottom of his right hand against the top. Hard. Somehow that one word encompassed both everything and nothing. The twisted knot of emotions and feelings that were balled up in himself, over the whole past few months and the mess of it all, was nearly indescribable. 

"Besides," Clint said, braving reaching over to gently clasp his left hand against Reed's shoulder, making sure to aim for the join of his neck in lieu of being closer to any sensitive nerves from the damage to what was left of Reed's right arm. "You've probably been busy having Sue around again and a big lab all of your own. I hope." 

Possibly. Either that or Clint was just a big dumb jackass who'd failed to even say hi for a few months after they both survived their own personal hells. 

[rubberbandtheory]

New Beginnings: Clint, Susan & Reed [closed RP]

It had been a tumultuous few months to say the least.

Reed had thought he could weather any storm, any disaster, any attack, but the resurgence of Victor- no Doom had severely tested his mettle. Still recovering from the loss of his arm; the stress of being pulled in so many directions. Despite his physical form, Reed’s mental self could only be pulled so far.

The hard decision was made to withdraw from any ‘superhero’ duties from the interim. However long that may be. His body was only capable of so much duress even if the severance site had healed and his heart was not into fighting. Not when he felt as brittle as twigs and constantly looking over his shoulder.

Guilt consumed him. But he was used to that and pushed it aside. Hero duties or not, he still had responsibilities and duties to perform. Ben and Johnny had shouldered some of that; by offering to take up roles within other teams to take on the fights he could not.

It was time to hang up the Mr Fantastic persona and be Reed Richards again for the first time in a while. Scientist and current homebody at the Baxter Building. He had missed the building. He had missed home and it was good to be back. And best of all, it was good to be back with Susan. The dark place he had gone while recovering from losing his arm still lingered but he could endure it with Sue by his side; her smile; groggy and bleary as it was when he kissed her good morning lightened his day and eased his sleep as he cuddled up next to her.

Susan wasn’t the only person on his mind, however.

This year hadn’t exactly been kind to many people he knew. 

In particular, he was worried about Clint. The two of them had an unusual friendship; a connection that seemed unlikely but had formed none the less. The attacks that had lead to Reed returning home had also severed Clint from the world he knew but unlike himself; the archer didn’t not have much support to lean on as he made his way back on the road to recovery. Oh he had Lucky; the dog would never leave his side but everyone else had seemed to withdraw from Clint. And in turn Clint had withdrawn as well.

That had sat ill with Reed. It had been the catalyst for something that had been brewing for some time. And he took a leap instead of calculating ten steps ahead.

He wanted Clint in his life. In his and Susan’s life. He remembered his heart thumping rapidly as he confessed his feelings about Clint to Susan, tongue stumbling over words so he could properly articulate what he wanted; shakily explaining the months of adventures, of bonding, of life and death and trust; that he wanted both of them, together. It was different to what he had with Sue; the woman was his soul as unscientific as that was. He did not want to replace that soul. But he wanted to add kinship to it. 

Susan had kissed him then, smiling before simply saying she had known that his heart was big enough to share along with hers. The rest of the discussion needed to be with all of them together.

That had been days ago and eventually he had worked up the courage to take charge and go to Clint’s apartment. The frost of winter was melting into spring but it was still chilly when the wind blew through the streets of the city. Wearing a light jacket with the right arm pinned over a checked shirt and plain slacks, he drew little attention as he fumbled to find the right address; the two had been living in close quarters during their stint with the Avengers and he tended to be rather bad at navigating the New York City grid when he was distracted.

Reed dithered at the door for a few minutes, feeling like his stomach had dropped to his knees [a physical possibility but not the case this time] before he knocked on the door.

“Clint? Are…you home?”

[hawkuponthewatchtower]

It'd been hell for a while. Clint's life had turned upside-down, inside-out, and practically exploded itself across the pavement. 

Almost literally given the shit that had gone down with Doom and Loki and everything. Once again Clint'd had a psycho in his head and it'd definitely messed with him, but more than that he'd been almost killed in the absolute chaos that'd resulted from it, and more or less lost everything he'd considered important in one fell swoop. His boyfriend, his Avenger status -- though that was complicated and mostly due to his medical predicament, and a place he'd started to call home. Hell, even his goddamn bow. 

So, yeah. Pretty much everything. 

Well, except Lucky. Lucky was, like, Harry Potter or something. The Dog Who Lived. Apparently had even mauled some Doom-bots and damn well defended their good friends Reed and Sue, who'd had to deal with Victor von Fuckface blowing up the Stark Mansion and trying to then kill them as they all crawled out of the debris. Lucky had been one of the first faces Clint recalled seeing upon waking in the scarily lavish ICU had been the labrador's, sad soulful eye keeping a close watch on him and one paw neatly tucked into the crook of his arm. 

Ever since then, Lucky'd dutifully kept right by his side nice and close. Visited physio with him, went to post op appointments, psychiatrists -- the works. The Avengers were rebuilding themselves along with SHIELD at the same time, but Clint... didn't want to be a part of it. 

Didn't want to be a threat to them yet again. 

So days were spent quietly re-learning how to be a person again, rather than a weapon. Natasha visited of course -- nothing save for death itself would likely tear their friendship and trust down -- and made sure he got out of the apartment once in a while, but the busier she got the less time she had, and the more times Clint found himself speaking to her through texts at 3 in the morning while she was on the other side of the world. Once again it was just Clint and his faithful dog, the sweet one-eyed labrador whom slept at the foot of his bed and woke him during the middle of the night if he was fitting through a bad dream. 

Fate intended for that to change. 

The day had started out like any other that week: a hearty breakfast, a measured walk around the block with Lucky, then chucking some trashy NatGeo Wild show on (something about finding bigfood -- the people were hilarious to him) while he did his physio resistance training for his hamstring in his mangled left leg.

The big difference came with the soft, yet steadily measured rasp of knuckles at his front door.

Lucky lifted his head and curiously looked at the door, before bolting over to it and stuffing his nose against the bottom of it in an attempt to smell out who was on the other side, barking and eagerly jumping at the door when Clint took too long to get up and answer it, effectively drowning out poor Reed to the archer and his dampened hearing. 

"Easy, geeze Lucky. Y'think there's some pizza on the other side or somethin'?" Clint drawled in mock annoyance as he plucked up his cane from beside the couch where he'd stashed it, wobbling for a moment as his leg adjusted to walking instead of stretching out tender muscles. "Try not to slobber the person to death, alright." 

Clint unlatched the door and coiled his fingers about the handle, peering through the peep hole -- and just about then he wished he were in more than just his work out sweats and some compression dressings over some of his newer scars, because one of his best friends and crushes was standing right outside his damn door. Complete with those puppy eyes that rivalled Lucky's own. 

He opened the door shyly, almost using it as a shield until Lucky made sure he couldn't anymore because the dog had clearly missed his squishy chew-toy friend as well. "Reed? Hey. Hi. Uh, I mean. Come in? -- Lucky don't love him to death in the hallway geeze." 

Lucky butted his head against Reed's stomach and then pedalled behind him to push against his legs, the archer fondly chuckling as Reed was more or less invited in by the dog. Smart dog. Good dog. 

"Sorry... about... uh. Me." Clint frowned at the back of his front door while closing it, amused at how his tongue was just damn well not working. "I don't always lounge around in just pants, I mean. Company's been rare the past few weeks." 

Aww, awkward.

Scruffing at his short locks, the archer momentarily braved turning to look at Reed proper, noting how well he seemed to hold himself now even with the missing arm, and even the almost glow he had to him despite the perils of the past few months. Clint on the other hand was ragged and rough around the edges -- thankfully no longer retching his guts out from radiation sickness nor suffering the other effects that'd had him hide from Reed in the mansion months and months ago, but nonetheless he hadn't exactly gotten a free pass when Loki decided to re-occupy his body and blow up Stark Tower.

His cheeks flushed as he realised he was staring. Clint averted his gaze shyly. "Would you like anything t'drink?" 

Hey bro, how've you been, holy shit I've missed you but been too socially dumb to try an' visit you.

[axkaban-deactivated20160229]

Clint Barton + Kate Bishop in Hawkeye Vol. 3