You tossed Clint Barton, AKA Hawkeye, his quiver, then his bow. He nodded his thanks, slinging the quiver over his shoulders in one fluid movement. "Thanks for joining me today, Y/N," Clint said as he walked up to you. "I had nothing else to do. C'mon."
As you picked up your guns, checking that they were clean and loaded, you felt a hand on your lower back. Your friend's voice was right next to your ear when he spoke. "I seem to recall Steve asking if you'd like to join him for lunch, N/N. You had other options." Blushing, you put your guns in their respective holsters, then turned your head to look at him. "Mm. Maybe I didn't want lunch, ever think of that?" You murmured in his ear, smirking when he flushed a dark shade of scarlet.
Clint looked around, then slid his arm around your waist. "Or you just wanted to see me?" He started to walk backwards, taking small steps, and pulling you with him until his back hit a wall. You turned yourself all the way around to face him, sliding your arms up from his stomach to his shoulders. "Target practice is that way, you know."
"My only target is right in front of me..."
You didn't quite make it to target practice, and neither of you would answer when Natasha asked about the small bruises up your necks.
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More Than A Hero
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