Avengers One Shots (Gay Ships)(Request Closed)

Envy (StevexClint) [CYS 4/???]

AN: Y'all are making this series work and I'm eternally grateful.

Summary: Steve helps Clint with his wounds, an unexpected guess and thought come in.

Third Person's POV

A: Answer calmly, say that you wanted to respect his privacy as you had a feeling it was a sensitive topic. Also that you want nothing from him and just care about him.

"I didn't ask because I had a feeling it wasn't something you wanted to talk about." Steve said with mellowed eyes. The gun remained pointed to his head. "And I don't want anything from you. I don't know how to explain to you that I just care about you."

A beat past and he could hear his heartbeat thump in his ears.

"That's bullshit if I've ever heard any." The younger man scoffed but lowered the weapon. Steve let out a sigh of relief but he knew he couldn't let his guard down. "Whatever, I'm going to go get drunk." Clint picked up the bottle with his uninjured arm and walked back towards the door.

"What did you do to yourself?" Rogers asked as the other man walked past him. Clint paused and turned his head slightly.

"What's it to you?"

"Did you not hear anything I just said to you?" Steve's voice was stuck between a mixture of frustration and distressed. "I care about your wellbeing. Your injuries matter to me."

Barton shifted his weight and kept his eyes on the gravel underneath his feet. "It doesn't matter. I'll sort it out." His voice was quiet enough that Rogers had almost missed it. "I'm not going to bleed to death."

He almost sounded disappointed and Steve only frowned at him. "Let me help you with it."

Hesitant eyes met his. "I-I can sort it out myself."

"You don't have to sort it out yourself. I can help." Rogers tried and watched as the younger man let out a heavy sigh. Another moment of silence fell before them.

CLINT BARTON: ^^ FRIEND

"Knock yourself out." Clint forced a smile and pointed towards the door. As the two walked inside, Steve managed a better look of the cut. The line stretched from his elbow all the way down to the palm of his right hand. The soldier grimaced at the open wound and the blood continued to gush.

Blood followed their trail from the rooftop to the medical wing. Barton made a mental note to clean up his mess. The younger man propped himself up on the examination table and watched as Steve pulled out the medical kit.

"What happened?" Rogers asked as he dabbed antiseptic on a cotton ball.

"My arm got caught on a fence I jumped on the way back home." Barton lied almost well enough that Steve would have believed him. But he didn't. "The party was lame but the door was just so crowded that I went out the back and jumped."

"Why didn't you tell Tony?" Steve dabbed the cotton ball on the wound and watched as Clint flinched. "Sorry, I wish it didn't have to hurt." Barton sucked his breath as the older man continued to clean the wound.

"He seemed to be having fun, I didn't want to bother him."

"He would have taken you home." Rogers said, if he didn't have a stomach the sight of this wound would have been enough for him to throw up. "I'm gonna give you something to stop the bleeding and pain killers."

Clint watched as Steve brought out a syringe. He gave a brief nod when the older man asked him if he was ready. He winced at the shot of pain that ran through him.