Bored Now...Or Maybe Not by angelskuuipo
Prompt: Avengers: Clint Barton "You did WHAT?!" :-D pairing or not is up to you.
Written for Shanachie_quill in honor of my 10th Writing Anniversary. This prompt stumped me. I know I had that thought about Clint and Aaron telling stories, but I couldnít make anything come of it. Then this popped into my head today and I ran with it. I hope you like it, hon! Thank you for challenging me and asking me to write characters Iím still getting comfortable with. Iím glad weíve become friends over the last few of years. Who knew a Kane song would lead to a great friendship? Big thanks to Snogged for the beta. Any remaining mistakes are on me.
Written: February 12, 2014
Word Count: 489
Clint was bored.
Actually, they were all bored. Even Phil and he was the one giving the briefing. Not that many people would be able to tell. Phil had perfected his deadpan Agent persona long ago and most never bothered to look deeper. But Clint knew. He could read his husband like a book and he was definitely bored.
Glancing around the conference room, Clint could tell that everyone had pretty much checked out; even Steve, who could usually be counted on to pay attention to everything. Clint tilted his head and grinned when he saw the doodles Cap was absently drawing on his briefing packet. He’d have to see if he could get a copy later.
Clint sighed quietly. He wasn’t entirely sure why the Avengers had been called in for this anyway. There was no apparent imminent threat, no Super Bad holding anyone hostage, no dumbass proclaiming himself God of Cleveland or whatever. It was an intel gathering mission and there were plenty of other, much less conspicuous, people qualified for the job. Calling in the Avengers seemed like overkill.
Okay, so maybe something hinky was going on that Phil hadn’t gotten to yet, but it still wasn’t enough to make him pay attention.
“…and we decided to have sex in the Monkey House. One of the apes leaned through the bars and slapped Barton on the ass. It made for a memorable evening,” Phil drawled blandly.
Hello. Clint looked at his husband in horror, a dull red creeping up his neck. Keeping his hands near his lap, he frantically signed, “What the hell, Phil?” Phil ignored him, the little shit.
Tony had been lounging across from them with his feet up on the table, but they hit the floor with a sharp thwack as he sat up straight. “You did WHAT?!”
The others were looking back and forth between Clint and Phil, various expressions ranging between discomfort and amusement on their faces. Clint steadfastly refused to look at any of them.
Phil smiled placidly from his seat next to Clint near the head of the table. “Oh good. You are still paying attention. Now, if we could get back to the matter at hand?”
He continued the briefing over Tony’s sputters and demands for details. Bruce finally put his hand over Tony’s mouth and he eventually sat back, arms crossed over his chest, to sulk.
Phil looked at Clint, a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips. Clint signed, “I thought we agreed to never speak of that night?”
Phil’s smiled widened slightly and he signed back, keeping his hands low like Clint had been, even as he continued speaking, “Not like anyone but Tasha will believe it’s true.”
Phil had a point.
The briefing continued, and while Clint still wasn’t sure why his team was the one going on the mission, at least he could say boredom was no longer an issue.