#ships; crisispider; familiarity is knowing every line and crack even in the dark (spiderhawk)

[starsnheroes]

❛ don’t go. please. ❜

IT IS WASTELANDS TIME BABY ! Not actually featuring Peter Parker, but the memory of Peter Parker !!

trigger warnings -> blood, death, murder, depression, alcoholism

Sunlight bleeds through the curtains, they are almost pinkish with how old they are, how the sun has drained them of color over many years. MANY YEARS. that always brought a smile to his face, lips chasing up his jaw. . . . his hand goes to drag along a bare back, his hand goes to. . . . REACHES FOR ⸻

Hand closes around a machete, just in his reach as he finds himself flat on the ground. GRIPS TIGHT TO THE WEAPON. (he should have held on tighter ⸻ TOO LATE, that was years ago). Aches and pain be damned, ❝ FUGGOFF! ❞ He growls into as he takes a swing, blade bites into ankle and he doesn't finish moving. FULL FORCE THROUGH FLESH AND BONE.

Blood gets in his mouth, which only enrages him more. FUCKING SHIT BALLS ON FIRE. He's getting on his feet when they fall from their own feet, yelps of pain and he coughs out the blood onto the ground. BOW ⸺ BOW ⸺ WHERE THE HELL IS IT?

Once it's located, he's reaching, REACHING ⸻

His hand makes contact with what it was looking for. Soft strands of hair, all frizzed up. Fluffy, brown locks that fingers card through languidly. A rumble is in his throat, interrupted when lips find purchase at his adam's apple. PETE ⸻

He may be old as well, arteritis in every bone or some shit. DOESN'T MATTER ⸻ He's got a nice bottle of WHISKEY that waste away most of the aches. The ex-blonde, silvering waterfall of hair thrown over his shoulder as THE BOW STRING IS DRAWN and than ONE, TWO, THREE ⸻ arrows go through a had, a throat, a stomach. That last one will bleed to death, and he's not in the mood for mercy or caring. LET IT HURT.

The problems are dead, or well, dying. The one little bitch is TRYING HIS PATIENCE, but the archer moves on. He was close, he knows he was close. He picks out what he had been looking, KEYS, from one of the corpses and the whining really was getting on his last nerve. ❝ Shuddup, t'is take me ta' your boss lady? ❞

An answer is not waited for because he's been on this road for months now, years even, and IT'S ONE MORE TO TICK OFF. Another head to roll, and HE WANTS THIS. He needs, he needs, he needs ⸻

Those lips keep pressing upwards, wet against his jaw line and cheeks. His hand drags back downwards, feeling his bare skin until his finder, down his spine and feeling every vertebrae there. Blue eyes meet dark eyes, YOU GOING TO KISS ME OR NOT, begs on his lips. An alarm goes off, and dry lips have to turn away. Wet lips pouting and he knows that look ⸻

When he finally gets there, looks upon the house at the top of the hill and end of the street. EVERYTHING IN HIM GOES COLD FIRE. Grip tightens and FINALLY, it's her time. It's her time. SHE HAS TO DIE. The world was hell, left to rot, and it deserved to burn. She deserved to burn, along with the world. Maybe in ash, it could all be reborn.

HE deserved to burn with it too.

A hand's going up to his face, cupping his jaw and turning his attention. They've been lazing in bed for over three hours, counting their blessings that the new baby was still sleeping and Mayday either still asleep or self entertaining. WE'RE SO LUCKY WITH THEM, he had mumbled and he's pulling away. HAS TO as his Avenger card beeps at him again. There's a look in Peter's eyes, happy and light. "DON'T GO. PLEASE." Rumbly voice than met with lips on his lips finally, and he wants to crawl back into bed. Stay there with him.

Now his memory, which has been getting funnier and funnier. The memory comes back up again, except now is this really a memory? As he gets his way past the exterior security, and as he has to go fast. Taskmasters would be on top of him if he took too long, which he could handle it or DIE; he wasn't done yet with everyone on his list. OTHERWISE, HE DIES AND THE PAIN WOULD BE OVER.

He sees him standing there, corner of his vision than in front of him. Peter Benjamin Parker, but preferably Peter Barton-Parker to him. HE'S LOOKING AT HIM. Sad eyes, frown on his lips and he's moving to stand in front of the doorway, to where he need to go. TO WHERE HE'D BE KILLING KARLA SOFEN.

"Don't go. Please."

This time, he is sad and twisted, broken voice. He could not handle this. NOT NOW. ⸻ GO AWAY, PETER. Karla has to die, he needed to kill her and you should hear what she's done with herself. IT'D BE BETTER. The world hurt, it needed to burn away all the, and maybe. . . . . He knows past his own lies, this wasn't justice. VEAGANCE ⸻ REVENGE KILLING.

"Don't go. Please."

Clint walks right into the ghost, FEELS LIKE COLD FIRE (how it kills him, how he wants him to be real and catch him in his arms). He swallows, tries and the lump gets caught in his throat. GOD HE NEEDED THAT WHISKEY NOW. Be quick about this, he can make for his stash and than skip to the next town. One more person down, the list gets shorter.

There's a limp form of a blonde woman, sitting in a chair, wasted way. TOO MUCH POWER. DYING BODY. Arrows shot through her skull, into her chest. "You can't kill me that easily, Clint. My body was already dead."

Clint coughs, LAUGHS CRUEL, and he's got the biggest sneer at the voice that comes through the house. Interior weapons engage, walls moving in, ❝ Awww hell, Karla, sweetheart ⸺ Don't you remember always sayin' I was smarter than I looked? ❞

HE CAME PREPARED. Karla Sofen and her systems were going to burn, with the world, with everyone in it, LIKE HE BURNED. He'd kill her, and all of them, and leave behind a trail, a mess of ash and blood. IT ALL HURT.

"Don't go. Please" ⸺ He wish he hadn't. "Don't go. Please" ⸻ TOO LATE.

[starsnheroes]

ship tag drop cause tumblr messed up the tags; so i'm re-tagging ships/fixing thing / saving this poste to add to so i always have te tags....

hey if we write / ship together and you want one of these (does not have to be romantic) than let me know !

@crisispider -> ships; crisispider; familiarity is knowing every line and crack even in the dark (spiderhawk)

@thefleetsfinest -> dynamics; thefleetsfinest; it ain't heavy when you got a friend (recovery buddies)

@thefleetsfinest -> ships; thefleetsfinest; breathe in and come close and feel this and feel me and feel it all (Len and Lin)

@mr-tony-stark -> ships; mrtonystark; will you wait for me the way birds wait for the sun to rise? will you kiss me as the sun rises? (ironhawk)

@biitchcakes -> ships; biitchcakes; and her kisses on his skin felt like wisps of butterfly wings turn to a slow inferno (spiderhawk)

@biitchcakes -> ships; biitchcakes; you think she turned on the stars (spidertigra)

@amethystarrows -> dynamics; amethystarrows; when i am with you there is no place i'd rather be (the hawkeyes)

@gammaragee -> ships; gammaragee; I love you as certain dark things are to be loved between the shadow and the soul; (tigrahulk)

@gammaragee -> ships; gammaragee; its in the eyes always in his eyes danger and trust are held; (hulkeye)

@voluntadfuerte -> ships; voluntadfuerte; eternity was in our lips and in our eyes; (hawkingbird)

[starsnheroes]

💋 Did Peter get kisses yesterday? yes. Is Peter here for more kisses from Clint? Also yes. Especially since Tumblr refuses to let you see Peter any other way.

everyone sending ‘💋’ in my inbox gets a kiss from my muse. -> still accepting

THE DAYS THAT WERE TECHNICAL WINS ⸺⸻ TECHNICALLY.

The days that were technical wins; that at the end of the day, the end of this LONG FUCKING week that was coming on at the tail end of what had been a LONG FUCKING month of things happening behind the partition, in the works and building what felt like under no one's radar. ISN'T THAT THE SAME OLD STORY?

One that's been repeated in the history books, over and over again; as an unofficial Avengers historian himself; he's positive that he could count such a thing as happening at least on the count of ten fingers and an extra hand. WILL THEY EVER? WILL THEY EVER LISTEN? It's all questions of change that pop into his head on the flight home; the hum of the quinjet having been a comfort that he had needed.

Cities saved, people on Earth, in this universe and this timeline were saved, but there's that HAUNTING CHILL clinging onto him. Being upon one of the few of the this makeshift, call any Avenger new and old to see who could show up, team. That's not how teams should be formed or made, but none of them had been active members. All reserves, and one inactive, which he's sure he can hear about the end of that with the Avengers LATER.

THEY NEEDED SOMEONE WITH A SET OF TALENTS. IT WAS AN EMERGENCY.

He was an ex-chairman himself so the Active team could BITCH at him later about that; he had his argument made. He followed most of the by-laws; and THE WORLD WAS SAVED.

THERE'S THAT HAUNTING CHILL. ⸺⸻ TECHNICALLY, WHAT A FUCKING WORD.

He was one of the few that had gazed into the MAW OF THE BEAST ; OF THE FUCKING WORLD EATER, LOOMING.

Where had any of the Alpha Flight, the Guardians of the Galaxy, any of the heroes who have been to space and like fucking space. NOW HE'S GOTTA GO TO THEM. All of them. Carol and Tony (his buddies from the exclusive club no one want to be in), any of the Thors; even Bucky fucking Barnes had been to space and seem to get something out of it.

HE DIDN'T EVEN GO TO SPACE. Yet to see the gaping jaws of something, just out there and waiting. SITTING IN JUDGEMENT, LIKE A COBRA TO STRIKE. He doesn't even know when; or perhaps it wasn't even REAL.

CALL AN EMERGENCY AVENGERS ASSMBLE.

Seven of them; there had been seven of them and they had done it. Since he's the one that called for this; than he had to do a goddamn report. FUCK STEVE ROGERS AND HIS LOVE OF PAPERWORK.

This quinjet had been a comfort; that as well as Spiderman, who thank everything did not have to bore any witness to what Clint had seen, being there. THERE'S A SLUMP TO HIS SHOULDERS. Moments that Clint can recall that he had gone silent; when the webslinger gone quiet, focused on what he needed to be doing. IT'S BEEN A LONG, SERIOUS DAY AT THE END OF LONG, FUCKING TERRIFYING WEEK.

That second comfort coming as a squeeze to his shoulder, red webbed glove lingering there, as he had settled into the pilot seat. HE NEEDED TO BE IN THIS SEAT. Keep his head on straight, flying them home. CLEAR THE VISSION FROM HIS EYES. Let this makeshift one time only performance act take their bow, and seep into their seats.

Some chatter; mostly quiet on board. HATES BEING THE RESPONSIBLE ONE. Reminds everyone to write up a report; so they can log this whole week to the active team, given the first Captain America an erection for new files to read.

A BITTER TASTE FILLS HIS MOUTH ⸺⸻ CRAVING.

The foulness of a craving; growing in his mouth as he thinks about how hard of a night this had been. Month long, to week long, to the culmination and than he knows there's more to come. CLEAN UP. AFTERMATH.

The work never end.

HE COULD GO FOR A FUCKING DRINK. Minimum of ten beers or something hard, high in content that'll lead his throat burning. KNOCK HIM THE FUCK OUT. drink, drink, drink; it always helps with sleep. After today, this night would be a hard one to go to sleep with. POTENTIALLY REAL NIGHTMARE FUEL ⸺ OUT THERE WAITING. FOR HIM.

Months, a little over a year sober, from his first relapse. THE FIRST BEING A KEYWORD BOTHER HIM. Clint was not going to. That would still only be first time. Every fiber in him knew that, fighting it; pushed the quinjets top speeds because he knew that he was popping in somewhere, to thank fuck they lived in NYC where there was at least a million people awake at late, late nights; literal twenty-four seven available meetings to find.

THE CITY ON THE HORIZON.

They land, greeted by the actives, and everyone is itching; clamoring to get out here, out of the hangar, off of the Avengers site. GO HOME. Unwind and cope. ❝ Spiderman; hold on back for a moment. ❞ UNINTENTIONAL LEADER VOICE. A little strict sounding, gravelly tone.

He can probably hear the strain to this; imagines the face under that mask. TIRED, PROBABLY WORRIED NOW. One thought on Clint's mind besides the whisperings he ignored; the fucking ironic thought of wanting to drown them; considering what IT wanted to drown him with.

THANKFUL HE HAS ANOTHER THOUGHT. Lips. His lips; and they were probably chap, the feeling of his thumb on Peter's throat as he made sure his mouthy spider in place. BOYFRIEND. Too damn lucky; a good thing.

The literal Hawkeye eye's sweep the hangar bay, checking for any eyes or straggler. EVERYONE CLEARED OUT FAST. Clint didn't blame them; he wanted to do the same thing, and he will soon. ORDER OF BUSINESS, STANDING IN FRONT OF HIM.

Thrown for a loop, when he's hugged and comforted that he's thinking the same thing as him. HE COULD KISS THE MASK; HE DOES THAT PLENTY NOW. Clint always makes sure to lower his sunglasses, primary for Spiderman to see the way he rolls his eyes, but than noticed the way his scarred lips go crooked in a smile.

FUTZING DORK OF HIS NOW.

Clint won't risk the identity reveal; always kept Peter's airtight and knew what he'd do if he was tortured about it. THANK FUCK HIS BEST FRIENDS WERE SUPER SPY ASSASSINS. Natasha, Bucky, and even Bobbi, has taught him a trick or two about withholding information while being hot iron burned.

Yet he can't help himself to going for the zipper as his hands, run up from his arms to shoulders, loosens the zipper. DRAWS HIS FINGERS ALONG THE JAWLINE. Slips a finger under to lift the mask up. JUST ENOUGH. Just enough to pull up above his lips; but no higher than that.

NEEDED THOSE, AND THEY WERE CHAP. ❝ What do you do ⸻ eat your chapsticks instead use them? ❞ A smile, just for him, DRAINED, and a little humor for the moment. Lips barely apart NOR does that last long. LIPS TO LIPS HELD LONG; LINGERING THERE.

Convinces himself ⸺ and it would be true even if right now the pit in his stomach that only wished him rot and ruin; that his lips taste so much better than quitting his sobriety. ❝ TO THINK ⸺ I could have been tasting cherry chapstick. ❞ Both hands holding at Peter's jaw, cupped tight to hold down the mask and one hand is sliding to his neck; feeling his thumb over his throat, feeling the texture of the suit, the welts of the webbing that make up his iconic design.

❝ You feeling that you need to get to MJ'S ⸺ see Mayday, stay the night? ❞ BIG WORLD SAVING DAY. That takes a lot out of anyone; and Clint knows he'll never quite be a father (last chance never happened). YET HE COULD MAKE A GUESS. He could guess, something like that, and perhaps this would have been Clint, despite how drained he was, would want to go see his baby right away. HOLD THEM.

Knows that MJ and Peter were far more communicative, very amicably divorced; and certain that her couch would be available. Checking to see where he was going home tonight; if he'd be alone in bed. IT'D BE ALRIGHT. Trying to gauge where he's taking himself.

❝ 'M OKAY. ❞ That was and wasn't a lie. AFTER SEEING THAT? No way he was okay, but he means that in different terms. Let him explain here before his bullshit is called. ❝ OR ⸻ I want, need, to go to a meeting; so I WON'T BE TO BED RIGHT AWAY. ❞ He would be okay, or at least; he's giving Peter the trusted knowledge of what he was feeling.

RAVENOUS. HUNGRY. JUDGING. HIBERNATING IN SPACE SOMEHWERE.

❝ So okay, more or less ⸻ Just text me if I'm in your bed tonight. ❞ A LITTLE PLEADING. His pride could take that; after he's sat and listened, got through the night, perhaps talked but he doesn't know who the hell he could talk about what he was privy to. Talk about how hard it was to not drink when it became the number one sleep aid for over a decade and some of his life.

THE MEETING HELPS ⸺⸻ and the text message on his phone contributes to knowing he'll be alright (at least with this). DOESN'T EVEN BOTHER TEXTING BACK.

Perhaps that he should have gone to a doctor, because everything aches and it's more than the mid-forties pushing older kind of pains. HE'LL CORRAL HIMSELF AND PETER TOMORROW TO ONE OF THE NIGHT NURSES. Getting them checked out, Night Nurse because of Peter's secret identity, and those nurses have an oath about that.

❝ MMH⸺ ❞ is the first sound that he makes after keys in door, unlocked, than relocked and suit, clothes, discarded wherever in the dark trek from the front door to Peter's bed. ARMS GOING TO SLIP AROUND HIM, KISS AT HIS NECK, JAW LIPS.

Lips that tasted like chapstick ⸻ ❝ MJ 'n' Mayday okay? ❞ Based on the text, knowing that he had to have swung by, and cares himself to know that. ❝ Didnta hafta rush 'ere. ❞ BUT HE WON'T COMPLAIN. He's got someone to hold; he's exhausted and sleep won't be coming. Yet he got someone to hold, Peter there, and he can just feel him.

Hearing aids still in, because that need for vigilance. EYES DARTING TO THE WINDOW. Curtains drawn; trying not to imagine a serpent eye watching them. ❝ Didya hafta choose COCUNUT? ❞ Complaint, against Peter's lips again, because of course he puts on chapstick and choses that.

LIPS DEFINITELY TASTE BETTER THAN DESTRUCTION.

[starsnheroes]

🖼

@crisispider i was thinking about all the panels of them eating food. and look they SAME HAT-ING.

SPIDER-HAWK -> hungry & thirsty boyfriends that fit together.

[starsnheroes]

THE MEL-VERSE // I just need these on my blog // look at my ships ! my otps !

I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT ALL OF THEM.

Mel , thank you so much for these sillies, they are the world, and I adore you and make sure to take care of yourself, cause you're the best and you matter, and just look our sillies ! they match so well ! -> @thefleetsfinest / @crisispider / @hopeburns

[starsnheroes]

sign: so are we gonna talk about it or are we gonna pretend nothing’s wrong here?

// you know in your heart who this is for and EXACTLY what point and verse I’m talking about.

CONTENT WARNINGS for alcoholism, relapsing, addiction, death, miscarriage, mention, depression, trauma, anxiety attacks

There are exactly five thing in life that absolutely crushed him, that had crushed him and changed the directory of his life. Unfortunately for him, those were not the end all or the be all of everything bad in Clint Barton's life. When he was born, he got the short straw in the draw of life. THE WORST POSSIBLE HAND ⸻ and he'd love to know what if there was something more ironic than the fact that Clint knew how to rig about a dozen card games and he still wound up with the worst hand.

Those five things were as follows in particular order ⸻ the loss of his and his wife's unborn son frankie, the divorce between him and bobbi morse, his own brother barney telling him that he may as well die like their father had with a bottle in hand, the crash landing and loss of the enterprise, and lastly most presently important the almost realized fear of losing peter b parker.

In the most recent years, and holy hell how long has it been, almost five years; that there had been two things working for him, one of superior importance; the fact he has managed to succeed at being on a star ship and next; the color that came back into his life after he had been rubbed raw, where his metaphorical vision saw grey and lacking. PETER B. PARKER WAS COLOR.

He had been managing on his own, as best he could to get through his years at the Starfleet Academy; he had got accepted and passed entrance exams (despite that feeling he was a phony, not wanting to be there out of starlight and adventure but out of spite to stick it to his brother that he would not die at bottle and he could do the starship thing too barney barton).

Those first years were a challenge, the hardest challenge as he was trying to scrap himself from the rock fucking bottom alone. Clint almost lost it all multiple times and he knows there had been some with more compassion because of his potential; because there were unique skills that he brought with him (he hate to owe it to his childhood, to how he grew up, and to his time as a performer).

AND THERE HAD BEEN PETER. He had met him when he was off the straight and narrow; a weekend lapse after managing four months without but thins had ben starting to stick more than before. It's a disease, a disease that he had known before he tasted with his own tongue. The lapse had last less than a month, one of the shorter stints and it was starting to stick.

( no longer had he been alone too. a friend turned love, found in peter who had become everything to him. everything. )

It had been a longer time that IT had stuck, years at the last where his hand didn't touch a bottle and his lips didn't touch a glass; personal poison not filling his stomach. HIS HAND IS SHAKING AS HE APPROACHES THEIR QUARTERS. It had been a long time.

The rub, the goddamn rub of where the spot stained, was this. There was a sixth soul-crushing addition to his list. THE REBORN ENTERPRISE WAS FULLY OPERTIONAL; A NEW MISSION ALREADY SET COURSE. THEY WERE FLYING.

As the days turned to weeks abroad a starship, the starship, and when he gazes out from the helm and sees the vast emptiness. IT FILLS INSIDE HIM. A gnawing, incessant fear that filled him and was in every corner.

He may have been cleared, but that was when they were on the ground and when he had been attending to Peter, had been going through therapy and holding it together. HARD DAYS AND HE HANDLED THEM. He got through, didn't drink, but now out in the stars?

The fear came back, with a vengeance and every day was hard, harder than the last and all he could do was hide it. HE WASN'T SLEEPING. He got good at faking that, the first few weeks. He was a liar, a phony, a fraud and he couldn't keep going on not sleeping.

IT ALWAYS STARTS WITH ONE ⸻ and he slips. . . . and when he slips? It never ends with one. The first few days, it's only a taste, one bottle nicked from someone else and hoping they blame their friend (they did) and it was just a taste, something to mellow the senses. SLEEP A LITTLE.

⸻ IT NEVER ENDS WITH ONE.

Here he was, wanting to drain the whole thing because it was felt temporarily good, and the fuzzy feeling wanted to lull him into the belief that it was worth it and good. Years sober and clean would say otherwise. HE SHAKES AS HE ENTERS AND PETER WAS STILL UP. WHAT WAS HE DOING THAT?

The light in the room, despite it's brightness dimmer than that out in the hall, feel BLINDING, BURNING, AND PETER LOOKS A SORRY STATE OF AWAKE. When have those dark circles been there, he had sworn to himself that Peter would be asleep before he went to the alcohol (someone else's nicked from a personal drawer of undergarments) he had relocated for use as his sleep aid.

WHY CAN'T IT JUST BE ONE? Why couldn't he be stronger, with more self control like the good doctor with one glass, one glass a single goddamn night when needed? WHY COULDN'T HE? BUT THE FEELING SHAKING HIS HANDS, SPIRALING OUT FROM HIS GUT AND HOLDING HIS LUNGS CAPTIVE SAID MORE.

The look upon his everything, upon Peter's face was as equally soul-crushing as THAT SIXTH SOUL-CRUSHING POINT. The sixth being the day that it all broke loose, when the fear was keeping up an he had gotten a few looks, some words passed onto him that maybe he should go to medical, and WHAT? AND WHAT? He wanted to bite, he wanted to snap, and tell them he can't sleep?

THERE WAS ONLY ONE GODDAMN CURE AND HE KNEW THE ANSWER. He couldn't spend every night, laying at Peter's side watching him sleep, watching him breath, and FEELING HIS HEART ACHE EVERY TIME HE STARTED STIRRING, OR STOPPED BREATHING FOR THREE SECONDS. Clint simply couldn't do it, he needed the sleep too, hypervigilance wasn't working. it was going to save Peter came to the worst.

TONIGHT WAS ONE NIGHT OF MANY IN THE PAST FEEL WEEKS. The night of many where his lips touched a glass, his throat found solace in the burn going down it, and he knows in the slow long run, that he was poisoning himself again, slowly but surely killing a part of himself; numbing the pain and the fear, and it'd only get worse from here.

Six soul-crushing points in life that came in no particular order, was never going to get to know what it would have been like to hold a baby frankie, was knowing that he was an awful husband who couldn't ever be there when it matter, the feeling of wanting to prove his brother's words right and die just like their father did, the two failures upon not being able to do anything that mattered to save anyone or anything as alien blood on his hands did nothing to change what happened, to having his fears come true and almost lose peter with no way to do anything and watch his everything almost lose himself to grief too, and a few weeks ago, that sixth thing had been when he had found someone's (he didn't bother to remember whose contraband he stole) whiskey and touched the glass to his lips and down.

YEARS WITHOUT LEFT TOLERANCE LOWER THAN EVER. Not much had been needed the first night, that damn spot, the rub of all rubs that left him raw and HE KNEW THE PLUMMET DOWN HE WAS TAKING. It helped him sleep and told him all sort of other lies, and the questions that kept him not being able to look anyone in the eye for weeks, inventing new routines to avoid old ones (no more morning yoga it would be wrong since that came about because of sobriety).

⸻ ALL OF THAT TOSSED AWAY. He was a phony, a fraud, and the addict he knew he was wondered only wondered when the next drink, what plans and reasons he could come up to justify, to make sure he got the next one, what happens when everyone who had brought contraband alcoholic substances no longer had any in their stashes because they hadn't docked in awhile and he went through four hundred and fifty something personnel and every nook and cranny looking for the thing that lied to him, that convinced him that he needed and wanted it.

That was soul crushing to know that his resolve was weaker and Clint felt powerless, had felt powerless for months and why not give himself over to a higher demon he had never believed in anything higher before but if he was going to destroy himself, he might as well.

BECAUSE HOLDING IT TOGETHER, HAVING ONE GOOD THING IN HIS LIFE? It's only a matter of time before he ruin that. Had he been too eager, too much of a stress on Bobbi that he had tressed her out and killed their baby, and he knows he was unsupportive and to blame for the divorce, and he had been the one first to throw barney out of his life, and. . . . what had he done, what could he have done. . . .

Peter was sitting there awake and he knows how they talk; knows the damn love of his life, the color to his world, everything his soul wanted, had learnt sign language quickly as he could on meeting him because he preferred and never shared that he preferred. PETER SAT THERE, AND IF LOOKS COULD BREAK HEARTS, HE WORE THAT EXPRESSION.

« so are we gonna talk about it or are we gonna pretend nothing’s wrong here? »

Clint stands there, stares at him and he hates himself; more than he could ever describe as he is left with that question. THE LOOK ON PETER'S EXPRESSION. It was years that he had drowned.

« Let's go to sleep » He signs, forcing into his face of something hopeful that Peter would just take that, even if Clint knew that he was answering Peter's question. WE GONNA PRETEND NOTHING'S WRONG. Clint wanted to pretend.

How could he say what was going on? BUT Peter knew him better than anyone had in along time of his life, it's why he loved him so much. TO KNOW HIS SOUL, the one he entrusted with his dark. Peter met him when he wasn't sober and watched him as sobriety finally started to stuck. HE KNEW. AND CLINT DIDN'T WANT TO SAY IT.

Somewhere in his system, his head was fuzzy after all, WOOZY, wanted a drink. AND ANOTHER REASON TO DROWN, TO WASH IT AWAY. He hates that feeling, hate that his mouth waters and he knows he'll seek out more.

This is how things end if he can't admit it, ask for help this time around; if he were honest. BUT TONIGHT?

« PLEASE » He looks like he's begging as his mouth moves over the words along with the sign. « Go back to bed, my love. We sleep? We need sleep. »

BUT TONIGHT HE CAN'T DO THAT. He can't admit it, can't ask for help, and face the consequences, risk judgment for this part of him being seen. It's a disease and he'll stay sick. FACE JUDGEMENT.

Tomorrow. . . . maybe tomorrow he. . . .

Clint doesn't go to touch Peter, or go kiss him because he knows (the drink tonight wasn't enough, he needs more, needed more) and he knows and he knows. He tries to go lay down, and give Peter the sorriest eyes, quietly begging for him to just let whatever time it was rest and maybe tomorrow, when he's clearer headed he'll TRY AND TRY AND TRY BEFORE HE FINDS WHATEVER THIS NEW ROCK BOTTOM WOULD LOOK LIKE.

All those years and he took them away from himself.

[starsnheroes]

@crisispider -> the proposal -> setting: 616 -> word count: 3350

Who knew that asking someone to marry them came with a long list of things to do before the actual asking?

Clint certainly hadn't known that, and he had been married in fact. That happened nine days after being Bobbi Morse, and at the time he hadn't had the heart to tell her that he couldn't hear her well because his hearing aids had gotten busted. He had been smitten with her, but there had been no proposal or wedding. Straight to marriage for the both of them and they made a few good years before the bitter ends.

So thinking about marrying Peter came with two things. First that had come up in therapy and a long talk about commitment. What it meant, why he would run away and a whole bunch of things. That had been asking if they could schedule an earlier appointment and made the whole marriage topic a two-parter with his therapist.

The second thing was that he realized he wanted to do the whole shebang, he wanted to do this right and through that thought there were some peopled he needed to talk to first. Bobbi and Mary-Jane being the top, they were the ex-wives after all. Next came Kate and Natasha, because they were his best friends and if they didn't know before everyone else, they'd be betrayed.

Actually, there's a lot that had to happen; that he had to do and he felt like he should be the one to do it. It's not him proving himself, but it was a little bit in a way. He was proving that he wanted this, that he was ready for this and doing it right maybe than thing would end up better. Clint knew that he was putting in the work, trying to do everything he could to get this right and they were living with each other after months dating.

And there's Mayday, she was something that they had already worked out. What level of involvement he would have in her life and just like when Peter was moving in, there was someone else that was considered, Mary-Jane, which is why he thought he had to consider her. Get her blessing or a heads up, that he wanted to marry Peter.

Some other universe, somewhere, she and Peter were probably supposed to still be married and. . . . . They were here now, and he hadn't gotten his luck together with Bobbi ever and he thinks she should know as well. Ex-wives, life was weird, and Peter had a baby with his.

First, he was meeting with Bobbi and to say he wasn't buzzing with too many nerves. She was probably going to be the most difficult one to talk to, next or after MJ, that would prove itself later or the next day. He was telling everyone within this week and then proposing to Peter by the end of the week. THEY WERE MEETING FOR COFFEE. He’s already got a coffee when Bobbi comes, and she’s not late but she pretends to be. ❝ You’ve got that look on your face, sport. ❞  God, this woman knew too much about him.

It makes him bristle over that, and it’s what he loved about her. ❝ C’mon, can’t just want ta’ catch up with the ex-wife for coffee? ❞ Oh, she’s doing the raised eyebrow and tight-lipped smile, and he braces the next set of words from her which come just as he does know her pretty well too. ❝ So what did you screw up? ❞ It would be pointless to ask why everyone asks that question first when it came to Clint Barton.

❝ Actually, that’s the thing. I haven’t ⸻ ❞  He hasn’t, or well when he has he has gone on and fixed it. Clint Barton has finally gotten his life together, or he keeps trying to hold this all together. ❝ I do want to catch up with ya, Bird, you’re hard to catch but ⸻ ❞

❝ You want to run away from something ⸻ ❞   There’s why they couldn’t make it work. It’s that inner part of her that picks apart him. She’s not wrong there either. In the past, he’s called her when he wanted to run away or blow up his life; even called her one day he thought about relapsing.

❝ I’m asking Peter to marry him, and I don’t know the divorce laws, but shouldn’t the ex-wife know or something? ❞ He tries not to sound that annoyed tone of voice he uses with her, the one that their therapist pointed out when they tried couple’s counseling. That catches her by surprise, and she touches to his hand.

❝ Clint, you don’t need my blessing. ❞ ⸻  ❝ Yeah, but I want it and I love him. ❞

She smiles, and then they talk. The two of them really talk about things, and she was happy for him. Teases him relentlessly, and that she does see the pictures he’s shared of him with Peter and Mayday, and she was glad that he got that. Clint worries, asks her how she’s doing and that he hopes she finds something. And she’s fine.

Ex-wife one down, and it’s went well. Telling Mary-Jane suddenly feels like it’ll be more of a challenge than Bobbi ended up being. That was because Bobbi was his ex-wife, and she cares about him. She always screws thing up caring about him. Mary-Jane was Peter’s ex-wife, and if he knows anything it’s that ex-wives and past marriages were complicated. Feelings possibly still lingering, and that’s where he knows both he and Peter had shared insecurities.

Making plans to meet with Mary-Jane involved Mayday, because it’s her two weeks with her. It feels almost like he is cheating on Peter; these past two weeks was going to because he was HIDING SOMETHING. It’s a good thing, and he’s spoiling Peter when they are home around the same time, or meeting for their meal dates. Hopefully, that’s not making him nervous that he’s being an extra goober for him.

It's just that Clint finds himself realizing how excited he was to do this. NERVOUS AS ALL HELL. Yet he was happy, and in love with Peter. ⸻ There’s MJ and Mayday, and he joins them with a smile. OH GOD, DO ALL EX-WIVES HAVE THAT LOOK?

Mary-Jane definitely knows something is up, but he smiles at her and greets Mayday first. Happy cheers of the name Bug and signing to her as he speaks with her. She’s already got so many simple signs she knows how to sign back. ❝ So I’m gonna need Mayday, just one day, cause I ⸻ well, I want to do something special with Peter, I uh, gonna propose to him, if that’s cool with you. ❞

That really sets the ball rolling and there’s a look he actually doesn’t know what it could mean. A soft ❝ Oh ❞ falling from her lips and lets her sit there to process which is where Clint’s own nerves jumps the boat of letting her process to ramble. ❝ If I’m doing that, Mayday, should be a part of that because we all are like a thing and it ⸻ ❞  A touch to his arm, than it’s down again and he’s supposed to be shutting up now.

Was it not cool? ⸻ ❝ Clint, I like you. ❞ The archer settles down for her, to talk and they talk. She asks how he was going to do this, which than he comes up with that fact that he forgot that rings were a thing, and he didn’t have one because wasn’t that kind of traditional guy-girl thing. Mary-Jane tells him a lot about Peter, some things he already knew and talks a bit about things he didn’t; mostly focuses on the past year that things were finally feeling good again with him. That she and him have been making it work, with Mayday, and that adding Clint wasn’t screwing her up.

It's safe to say that he’s gotten her blessing at least, and that he could pick up Mayday for the plans. They weren’t going to be anything too fancy out of the normal, besides Clint had asked Mary-Jane to learn one of Aunt May’s old recipes, since MJ knew May and knew her cooking. That was the biggest ask from her, because that would make the plans special and then he’d just ask. For as much of a showman bowman he was, Clint didn’t figure that fanfare would be best.

Peter liked him best when he was stripped down, when it was the three of them in their apartment being with each other. He likes him best when he was simply Clint, which was hard to be. Easiest when they were alone, and he hasn’t looked at his phone or turned on the news. That’s why he would be here, they would do this here in their own home and with a special meal. IT WOULD MATTER, NEEDED MEANING. Peter always needed the meaning.

Clint needed things to be meaningful too.

The next day of proposal prep was telling Natasha and Kate, before he’s even proposed, and this was needed for him. FOR HIMSELF. On top of that, they would both hunt and skin him if he kept this from them (not like they wouldn’t find out when they announced the engagement) however he knew he had to tell them before he even did it. So, they’d feel like they really were his best friends. He does it during a post work dinner with the both of them. They don’t seem to suspect anything unusual which supports his idea that ex-wives had some kind of superpower they gained where they knew things. That and grabbing food with Kate and Natasha were something he would normally doo.

❝ I’m proposing to Peter this week. ❞

He blurts out after Kate and Natasha are nitpicking about something, that shuts the both of them up to the conversation he hadn’t been listening to at all. THINGS WITH KATE GET EMOTIONAL. She’s proud of him, which gets him emotional, and she gets emotional. They were the Hawkeyes, and Kate’s known him at his worsts. Watched how he crashed and burned a relationship, and now Clint was in a stable relationship; and he knows that they were both thinking about how he’s gotten to be the mentor and friend, the family that Kate deserves. The whole meaningful sentiment between the two of them about being Hawkeyes and partners.

❝ So, you’re telling us because we are planning the wedding? ❞ is how Clint knows Natasha approves, that she is pleased to have been told and she’ll probably be a lot gushier with him about how proud she is of him and happy for him when Kate isn’t here. Although the idea of Natasha planning his wedding terrified him and she does know that Kate is going to be his best man. . . . which he has to have Peter say yes first.

WAIT, WHAT IF HE DOESN’T?

It was too late now, or that thought persisted until the day that he was borrowing Mayday from Mary-Jane’s, when he was getting in the kitchen and cooking one of Aunt May’s recipes. The biggest issue was getting Peter to not be home, which actually wasn’t that hard since they were both superheroes who always felt the need to be doing something. He just had to get Peter to come home around the right time, emphasize that it was date night and dinner would go cold (and he really didn’t want this dinner to go cold).

What surprises him is not only was he anxious, but he was feeling emotional too. Tearing up, and he know the food won’t taste anywhere near like how Peter’s made it but he hopes the gesture counts. He may have ordered takeout and put it in the fridge in cause this dish was awful. It was the kind that Peter seemed to like reheating more than fresh. There’s no ring or box, he had kind of forgotten about that, but he figures they would work out those details later. IF THAT WAS A THING, HE WOULD DO OR WERE SUPPOSED TO DO.

Clint’s dancing and singing, doing whatever he can do to make sure that Mayday was staying entertained with him. They play their little games, test her sign, and wait with her for Peter to come home. He talks to her, ❝ So you know, you’re here, Bug, because I love your daddy and you; and ‘cause I love your daddy so much? I wanna marry him. I think. . . . I’ve wanted that more than anything right now. Is it okay if I ask to marry him today, Bug? ❞ She seems to approve, and how he loves this kid a lot. He kisses her head and tells her more about his feelings for Peter. ❝ And I love you too, and I want us to keep being a family, that sound good to you? ❞ He figures that she did like the sound of that.

They continue to wait for Peter, WHO DOES MAKE IT HOME. He wasn’t the littlest bit of late, although he’s taking like he is. Clint’s sitting Mayday down for a moment to go greet him at the door. Taking his hand, kissing him to his cheeks and then his lips. ❝ Hey, you aren’t late. ❞

OH, THERE’S THESE BUTTERFLIES IN HIS CHEST AND STOMACH. He doesn’t know how to breath or swallow all the sudden just looking at him, and is this what it was supposed to feel like? Asking the man, he loved that he wanted to marry him, and he would hope and felt that it would mean forever. The other nervous part was when Peter sees Mayday and asks his worried questions about Mary-Jane. ❝ I asked if I could borrow her, for, uh tonight’s date night. ❞

That will definitely not make some sense to Peter, but than it would signal tonight was special. That’s the surprise, and he wants them to just sit down and have dinner. They don’t have a dining table, which he should have pulled out a card table or something. However, he hadn’t thought about that.

So, they eat at the counter, sitting on the stools and Mayday in her height chair which she was getting too big for, she’s two years old almost three. They should really have a dining table for family time like at MJ’s. Bigger place, they were still waiting to turn the top floor of the building selfishly into a penthouse sized apartment with a second- or three-bedroom apartment.

BEYOND THE POINT ⸻ PROPOSE TO YOUR BOYFRIEND. He is tapping nervously, when he sit Peter down for dinner, when he realizes what he made for him and gets a taste. ❝ I know it’s not right at all, but Mary-Jane said that, uh, Aunt May would make this for you, like this. ❞  If Peter hasn’t figured out what was going on, then well, he can’t tell if that is good or bad thing.

Clint tries to get through eating, by asking Peter about his day and then well, what was he going to do? How was he going to do this? WAS IT NOW OR WHEN? Should he get on his knees, but it just happens as Peter’s taking a few bites.

❝ So Mayday is here, cause ⸻ ❞  He’s taking Peter’s hand, grasping it tightly and he just starts to give the speech in his head. ❝ We’re a family, y’know and uh, I, well. . . . I needed her here, for, to be part of this cause she’s your word and the food. . . It’s kosher, it’s Aunt May’s. ❞  Clint never met her, would never, and he knows how much Peter tries to keep her close to him. So this was that way. His attempt to make this all special, and in a way asking Aunt May help I want to marry your nephew.

❝ You gave me a chance to repair our friendship, and then well, I fell in love with you, Peter and you’ve been ⸻ you and Mayday have been the best parts of my life since we got together. ❞

Clint squeezes Peter’s hand tight, and he has a lot of the things that he could say. He wants to say, and he will tell him because he loves him so much. And he wants this, he has never done a proposal and he wanted to make Peter to feel how much he loves him. He needs him to believe how much he wants him and Mayday in his life, that he doesn’t want to just be dating. Clint wants marriage with him, a second marriage, to try with him.

❝ You and Bug make life so much better and I want to keep you around forever, and uh, make sure you know how much you mean to me and I ⸻ ❞   OKAY. A LITLTE PANIC. Was he saying all the right words at all? He feels like his careful thought-out speech was tossed out of the door, out the window and landed on the pavement.

He wants this to be special and good; what if it was too much or too less? What if Clint bringing up Aunt May wasn’t the right move and it made Peter too sad to handle this? For the past month he had thought, felt certain, that Peter would want to get married again. Or what if bringing Mayday was weird? He doesn’t even have a dining table; they sit on stools side by side and that didn’t make a romantic atmosphere.

He could do better at the romantics, he has done that before with the heart shaped hot tub and rose petals, along with a cabin getaway. This was their apartment, with a special meal poorly cooked by Clint inspired by Peter’s dead aunt, with his child had with his ex-wife in the room. HE DIDN’T EVEN HAVE A RING.

For a moment, he was panicking. Brain and mouth stalling, and the butterflies feel frenzied because he realizes that he hadn’t thought how asking the question, how saying the words would get caught in his throat. Are his eyes burning, he feels like he might tear up? OH GOD, IF PETER CRIES ⸻ He could handle that, he knows that he could handle that. His spider-dork cries at moves and it makes his heart squeeze, his chest going all warm and fuzzy and he has to hold him. Hug him, kiss him when he cries; but what would he do if they both cried over this?

He just has to say the words, Clint wants to ask the question. He looks up at into his eyes, those browns that ground him and oh, he loves him. Clint’s glad he never gave up, because their relationship he’s been proud of. They didn’t always handle things the best, because Clint’s never been perfect but the both of them were trying. They were disasters together and then they made things work with each other.

Clint’s been putting in the work, and Peter’s trying. They’ve gotten over the bumps and hurdles. THEY WERE MAKING IT WORK. Now he wanted marriage, and he hoped that Peter did to. Not just marriage, to be married to him and have a wedding, let the people in their lives see how happy he was with Peter. How he claimed his life back from himself, and how just in love he was with this dork in front of him right now. Mayday makes a cooing sound, because he’s stalling and she’s calling him out. Clint got choked up, but now he has to ask, ❝ Peter, will you marry me? I want to marry you, have a wedding, do ⸻ be a husband again ⸻ marry me, will you marry me? ❞

[starsnheroes]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @crisispider

A look into Clint Barton's private instagram profile, previewing his life and relationship with Peter Parker.

Instagram posts and their captions. 1. Peter & Lucky sleeping in 2. Park day with the little Bug herself 3. He is ignoring me :P like a loser 4. texts i get from pete regularly 5. no one is cooler than Lucky 6. i have like 18 notes like these in a drawer 7. Beach day with Bug & Boyfriend, keep telling Pete he should let me use my connections and we go to a California beach; i'll even harass Tony to pay for MJ to come on vacation too so Bug has her Mama at the beach too (and you know alone time for me and babe sorry mj im very selfish) 8. Homemade pizzas, only time i will touch flour for cooking 9. Kate and Peter "arguing" while tourist watching

I love our Spiderhawk, and writing with you (for you), and I love our chatting; and just have a happiest birthday, Mel! Hope you have fun with BG3 and everyone in your life, and get spoiled for your b-day! Thanks for being so cool, love seeing you on your dash, and ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[starsnheroes]

There were SEVERAL new notes that were scattered around Clint's home, all left by a CERTAIN spider boyfriend. The note system was his favorite, and he refused to ever stop doing it. The notes are as followed: The first note had been left right on the front door.

'Hawkbae <3 I might not be home tonight :( : ( Something came up, it might take all night. Nothing to worry about though! - Pete ❤' The second immediately next to the first.

' By the way I found your phone in the bronx? I put it on charge for you in the roooom. - Petey ❤ '

The third was next one was on the arm of the couch, next to an extra pair of pajama pants and Peter's warm and cozy hoodie next to it.

' If you watch star trek without me, I will know.. and I will pout! But I found a new show you might like! I put it in your watchlist on amazon! - ur captain ❤ '

The fourth was on the fridge.

'Oh mighty landlord~ I fixed that one broken dishwasher in 1A Also managed to get around to fixing some of the electrical in the main lobby, and I fixed 2B's dishwasher! OH! and the one busted mailbox that was making the weird noise! - ur humble assistant ❤ The fifth note was waiting in the fridge on top of a fresh gallon of chocolate milk as well as a few baked goods. (not a single clue on the fourth that the fifth even existed inside.)

' prettttty bird ❤❤ I saw you were running low on milk so i got you some more, and i picked up a few other snacks. The pie is all yours, freshly made by YOURS TRULY, also I made the building some cookies and I made you extras! - ur friendly little baker ❤❤❤'

The sixth note could be found could be found new the takeout menus. (Peter liked to think he knew his boyfriend's routines rather well.)

'hey hungry bird ❤ I already called ahead your usual place they should be bringing your food by soon. (And if you are late they should have left you a note to call them and they would swing by why yes i am a PREPARED SPIDEY!) - a prepared boi ❤' The last note could be found in the bedroom right next to Clint's alarm clock and a little wrapped present. Inside the box was a little black bracelet. It was a special kind that was especially made for long distance couples (Yes he knows they aren't long distance but away missions are sometimes a bitch and they are needy asses)

'Hey love, I know it's a little silly, but I saw these.. and you know with our jobs I thought maybe? I'm already wearing mine. I love you - Forever yours, Peter ❤'

THE REALITY OF THEIR LINE OF WORK ⸺ LIFESTYLE ⸺ WAS THE INEVITABLE PASSING SHIPS WEEKS.

It was bound to happen, their first few months of this relationship had been stable; several months actually. Long enough time, although with the nature of their lives and who they were? It had seemed they had both FALLEN FAST.

That was kind of HARD NOT TO DO. The guy had quips and thwips, could keep up with Clint's talk (out talk him any day), was as dramatic as Clint was (an impossible task). He's been in this as long as Clint as too, so he's known and he still goes about all of this trying to maintain two identities. Something that Clint had always wondered if he should have done, been precious about, but than he sees how it affects Peter and he's maybe glad that he never had been.

Peter's smart and kind, the typical stuff that everyone always says in romance movies. By far no where perfect, and the fact they were both risk takers (and had been at odds once or twice before about work was proof of it). HE'S LEARNING CLINT, KNOWING HIM. One of the few who will know Clint; all the detail he wants and gets out of him. There's a whole twenty something years of his life, before the Avengers, before anyone knew him. PETER GETS ALL OF THEM IF HE WANTS.

In a lot of ways, Clint knows that they were similar. Reflections upon each other; although he would argue that Parker Luck is a lot better than Barton Luck. NOT SOMETHING THAT HE'D SAY. That would actually end up being an argument, or not something that would go over well. He'd take Parker Luck any day over Barton Luck. HOPES that their relationship is running on Parker Luck than his own. STILL HE KNOWS THEY WORE THE SAME HATS SOMETIMES.

They had each other's keys, lived half here and half there. Something about the heart living where the other was at. There had been the few funny times, when they couldn't coordinate with each other to save their lives. Peter ending up at Clint's, while he's at Peter's. HOME MADE IN TWO PARTS. They laughed at those times, calling each other over the phone and razzing the other for being at the other's place. DEBATING WHOSE COMING TO WHO.

The past two weeks, they have felt more like passing ships. It was inevitable, with seeing each other for less hours in a day or not even the whole day. The city being slammed with attacks, with supervillain schemes and plots that the Thunderbolts were called in on, that would bleed over into days long worries. DEMANDING ALL OF CLINT'S ATTENTION AND HIS LEADERSHIP. He slept at the fucking office last night, after a very late drop in at a meeting because it's been that kind of the week. Had to call Peter from the office, just to chat with him and tell him that he was missing him again tonight. Clint rarely stayed at the office if he could help it, but the team was tired or had more on their plates, so he had sent them home and stayed back and did all the reports, sat through the debriefing with Helen and than with the Mayor Luke Cage. PRESS AND ALL KINDS OF SHIT.

On top of that, Clint has been doing some UNDERGROUND work that he absolutely had to be careful with doing, like the Captain America network that he helped when Steve called in on him. Any work like that, whether it was simply exchanging information and offering tips or actually suiting up and bringing weapons, if any of that came up while he was working for the mayor's office and Thunderbolts? That would be trouble for him. Clint's not leaving people hanging though, not arresting other superheroes, and he's helping his fellows. IF HIS DAY OF RECKONING COMES? SO BE IT.

He's down, there's a slump to his shoulders as the end of the day comes. Clint hasn't had his phone in over three days, which he has no idea where he lost it. Probably T-Bolts patrol or an emergency call. Depression has been creeping in, something of which Peter and his therapist has noted, to which Johanna had asked him how he was going to practice healthy coping and manage it. HE KNOWS THE ANSWER SHE WANTS.

Getting to his front door, which he had come to second (Peter's place had been empty). He'll worry about his phone later. YET ⸻ SQUEEZE HIS HEART AND LUNGS. There's a note on the door.

FIRST ⸻ This sticky note, green in color, starts with HAWKBAE. Occasionally, as a joke not joke, he wonders if he should change his hero name to that. If only, because the nickname amuses him so much. A SIGH HEAVES AS HE READS. Clint hates to think that, of course, with how his week has been going. Barton Luck would double down, and he's not seeing a certain man tonight. It's okay, but he does wonder (nothing to worry about though!) about where and when Peter has even gone off. If it's Spider-Society stuff, which is the one he worries, because he knows about the whole multiverse, getting displaced or trapped in another universe. EARTH-666 WAS A MONSTER HELLSCAPE. It's the reason he has a joke grudge against Brian Braddock and the country of the British. No longer can a Smiths song be enjoyed. He will in fact, worry a little about Peter, and hope that he comes home in one piece and no bruised ego either. He'll spoil him, absolutely when he got here; or he'd go over there.

SECOND ⸻ The next sticky note is a different color, orange, and shorter than the first. Signed with Petey and a heart; he is his GODDAMN HEART. Oh, so it had been a T-bolts patrol that Clint had lost his phone. What had gone on that day he was walking the street of the Bronx like a beat cop? It doesn't matter, he has his phone back and possibly a lot of texts, emails, and missed call to catch up on. A call to Peter later, NEEDED. Honestly, was there a word for more than needed?

The two notes are plucked off of the door, than he's fumbling with his keys until the door unlocks. When he enters in the apartment, he doesn't quite know what to do with himself at first. How many days had it been since he was here? It's not that long again, but after spending the night in the HQ, it had felt longer. No boyfriend here. DAMN. The duffel bag he is carrying, gets half tossed to the side of the couch as he decides he had just needs to sink into the couch for a few minutes. HE JUST NEEDED THAT. Tv remote acquired in hand, flicking through what he was going to watch, until. . .

THIRD ⸻ a pink note is noticed. He picks it up, reads it and there's that twitterpated feeling that he gets about Captain Dork of the Spiderprise. While readding the note, his eyes draw over to notice the pajama pants and a hoodie. One that Peter tended to throw on when he was walking Lucky, of whom he imagines is at Kate's since Clint has been too all the place the past two weeks. I WILL KNOW... AND I WILL POUT. His face was cute when he pouted, but Clint's hart could not handle a pouty Peter. TWITTERPATED FOR HIM.

He had still been in his thunderbolts uniform, so he turns on the amazon app to see what Peter had put on his watchlist. Clint stands with a groan, to get up and shuck off his uniform. It's kind of dropped dropped to the side of the couch. He can worry about that later when his battery is charged up. HAPPIER ALREADY WHEN HE'S IN PETER'S HOODIE. It smells like him, wonders if it's so weird that he hugs himself and smells into the hood. Clint's on the couch, paying as much attention that he can spare for tv show until his stomach gets rumbly.

FOURTH ⸻ There's another note, blue, on fridge, that's new amongst the other notes he keeps up. OH MIGHTY LANDLORD, has he smiling. A half laugh, which ends in a full laugh a his eyes scan the note. HUMBLE ASSISTANT. Was he going to call Peter his humble assistant next time they get frisky, a little roleplay to add the spice? Absolutely, that was happening. GET HOME TOMORROW, PETER. He's glad that Peter's been able to check in with the tenants while the five boroughs of New York have been slammed with calls for the Thunderbolts appearance. He knows everyone loves Peter. HE DOES TOO.

The fact there was a note on the fridge, should have alerted Clint that another note was coming. Why wouldn't there be a note in the fridge? He was pretty sure he's eaten a sticky-note left by Peter before, because he put it in the fridge and Clint wasn't paying attention.

FIFTH ⸻ Yellow note. PRETTY BIRD. Stop flirting with me in notes, Peter, and COME HOME TO DO IT IN PERSON. Clint was going to blame Mayday for the reason he was low on milk this time. HE HOPES HE SEES HIS BUG SOON TOO. Watching all her favorite cartoons, naptime, the games they play, and then teaching her how to be the coolest Honorary Hawkeye (sorry Peter and Spiderman). Clint goes for the milk, and a few snacks but he was definitely going to order something in as there's no way he's cooking with the exhaustion that seeps in his bones.

That leads to the next note that he will find. IT'S LIKE PETER IS FOLLOWING HIM AROUND. ❝ I swear, Parker, if you are Truman Show-ing me! ❞ He says out loud, with a laugh to himself as he goes to look through the takeout menu pile underneath the landline phone. It should maybe bother him how much Peter knew his routines, knew his mind. Perhaps, it's creepy, but instead he likes the feeling that he's watched over by Spiderman. HE JUST FEELS VERY LOVED.

SIXTH ⸻ Red. HUNGRY BIRD. They hadn't shown up and he hadn't noticed a note, which makes Clint wonder how many minutes he had missed Peter by. The usual place, usually needed an order head, because of the distance and traffic, preparation time. So he should be expecting the food in twenty minutes and HE'S OVERWHELMED. Laughing at the way that Peter signs off on this note. PREPARED. How that knucklehead ever has any self image issues (he knows how and why; clint sees peter's) when he's absolutely wonderful, loving, and a total dork. ADORABLE DORK. CAPTAIN DORK. ADORKABLE.

The food arrives, with Clint leaving them a big additional tip and he's eager to dig into whatever Peter has ordered for him. HE DIGS IN. Crashed out on the couch, with the tv on for two hours. A slice of pie (he can make pie, holy shit, he's going to be obsess over that fact) and some cookies were had. He never has to try to bake again with Peter being around. Clint does saves a little bit from everything from the takeout order, just for Peter. Puts it in the fridge, so that he had something to eat when he got back in from whatever was keeping him all night. Writes a note himself to stick on the front door before he locks the door.

ONE ⸺

Peter <3

leftover in fridge for you

romance is not dead

you = my whole heart

Clint <3

He knows what his therapist would say, but he also knows that he was tired. That he's done about as much self-care as possible, and half of that was a result of the six notes that he had in his pocket. CLINT GOES RIGHT TO HIS BED. That's when he notes the little wrapped box in Spiderman themed wrapping paper. DORK. HIS BOYFRIEND IS A DORK. Followed along with it comes the last note, that he's noticed.

SEVEN ⸻ Purple paper, his favorite color. HEY LOVE. He's so deep in love with him, they both were. It's been a long time that he's had a new love, and how Clint hopes so much that this last. No other shoe dropping, no luck running out, no time being up. HEY LOVE. Clint's unwrapping the box that Peter has called silly, which he'll be the judge of that. There's a black bracelet in it, which Clint normally does not wear much in terms of accessories. A watch here and there, hair ties on his wrist (not that he ever needed them for his hair; but for flinging at people and now, he used them for Mayday's wild hair when it was bothering her). He looks back at the note. I LOVE YOU, FOREVER YOURS, PETER. Clint loves him too, and he hopes that forever lasts.

He kisses this note, which may be silly, but there's no one around to judge. ALREADY WEARING MINE. He reads the little paper that comes with the bracelet, from the company about what this was and how it worked (he can tell that Peter had taken it out already; meaning there must have been some set up done). Clint puts it on, an immediately he's pushing at the sun on, which blinks a dim light. He presses a few times, hoping, waiting for it to reach Peter. WONDERS IF HE COULD FIGURE OUT WHAT THE VIBRATION RATE WAS. They could do morse code with these, if they work.

A few minutes place, it goes dark and he reaching over for his phone. He lays down, tucking himself in and dims the brightness on his phone immediately to go to his text messages to CAPTAIN DORK OF THE SPIDERPRISE, ignoring everything else.

Before he even gets the chance to text anything, the bracelet light up and vibrates ⸻ WARMTH SPREADS. The warmth spreads between the cold and hollow spaces between his bones. FLUTTERING. Butterflies flutter through his stomach, up through his chest cavity, than get caught in his throat. SWALLOWING. CONSUMING. ⸻ He has got to be too old to feel this amount of love, to be this giddy over a bracelet vibrating, and FILLED TO THE CUP with love. He pushes the button again, how obsessed and distracted were they going to be about this?

Clint opens back his phone to text Peter.

[ Captain Dork of the Spiderprise ] -> I love you

[ Captain Dork of the Spiderprise ] -> Stay safe

[ Captain Dork of the Spiderprise ] -> Call me as soon as you can

[starsnheroes]

Peter is just gonna happily wonder his way on in and lean down to give Clint a kiss. “Hey, guess what?” He didn’t really leave a pause. “You are a good boy, in case you didn’t know.”

The spectre was pretending to care about his emails by actually looking through them. Searching for the next corner of the universe that they could take their little BROKEN ARROW out for work. They were working a case for Citadel, for the asari councilor, but that was at a standstill with two informants to each station across five stations keeping tabs for him. It's the worse part of any bounty hunt; the chase and wait and chase again. THE WAIT PART ESPECIALLY BRUTAL. So he's scoring for some more work, extra credits in their pockets wouldn't be a bad thing given a number of reasons.

It's boring reading these; he should make someone else do them like Leonard. Now that was an idea. He would absolutely hate that, why didn't he have that idea earlier? It would have saved him the grief of committing to reading emails. There's a lot of spam mail, some thanks yous, and he really let his emails rake up over the last few months.

OH. THAT PERSON WAS DEFINITELY DEAD ⸻ He should have done this earlier, should have had Leonard get to these in the last six months. OOPS, Clint should definitely feel bad about that ⸻ The door way slides open and he's alerted to that when Peter's voice fills the space. HEY, GUESS WHAT ⸻ yeah, he wasn't going to feel bad about missing that S.O.S email from months ago when Peter was coming in.

Clint tilts his head backwards into Peter when he goes to give him a kiss, he smiles to up to the other and looks at him with confusion as Peter tells him he was a good boy, and then it hits him what Peter could be referring to. ❝ Hmm, only for you. ❞ Clint hums, spinning in his chair going to kiss him again but better this time. ❝ Hey there, your smile must be a black hole, nothing can escape its pull. ❞

He gets up from his chair, pulling Peter away from his little desk area and towards his bed. He collapses down, going to tug his boyfriend with him and goes to run his hand through Peter's hair. ❝ So I have an idea, most brilliant idea, because I have like three hundred and eight emails. I should make Leonard read them and like the rest of the crew can get a piece; but he likes boring stuff, right? Great idea. Genius. ❞ This was absolutely an idea meant to get a rise out of Leonard, give him a loving headache and because Clint really couldn't manage going through that many emails (it was a lot of spam).

❝ So what is he cooking, since he's up on making the crew meal tonight? It's your turn after him, which I guess you could call in a favor from a certain spectre to help. ❞ He is absolutely meaning to the clear the small kitchen and mess area for the cooking occasion, and it just be Clint helping his boyfriend cook as a date. He'll let their few crew play cards or poker in the comms room or something. It is Clint's ship after all, so he absolutely can make the rules. It's not like the BROKEN ARROW had more than a handful of people which left them plenty of space. Crew size under twenty five was a very small vessel. Plenty of chance for privacy like that.

[starsnheroes]

sign: you’re safe with me, you know that right?

There's a part of him that wished he had said more during those final months when he had been at the Circle. That he spoken to Peter, before the Knight-Commander had thrown him from the ranks and cast him out of the order. He was abandoned by the order and the chantry for his misdeeds, which increasingly over the years meant covering for mages and disobeying orders.

It was then they had met again, after what happened at the Chantry and than the Circle fell. The mages breaking free, but Clint had already left Kirkwall. It was in the aftermath, when templars from everywhere swarmed the countryside to try to reclaim the mages. That is where he had met him again, catching him in self defense in a new war that spanned three countries; Free Marches, Orlais, and Ferelden.

That was several weeks ago, they had made it through the Planasene forest, would need to make through a mountain pass and onward to Cumberland. Clint knew that making through Cumberland would be some risk, but they would need news of everything that was happening. Decide where they should flee from there, and preferably precure horses if they could.

Stretching his stolen lyrium supplies thin had left him starting to feel shaky, that had been another worry that was weighing on their need to seek another city. He needed to make a Carta connecting or truly another bold enough to deal and trade in lyrium under the Chantry's nose. His hearing was already going again, one of his nasty side effects of an addiction forced upon all templars than left with for life or until an early grave. More likely the early grave.

The archer having his difficulties finding sleep, even when he had been the one pressing them on and took full watch the entire time the night before. His mabari, Lucky, a one-eyed mutt whose been a life saver as already sacked out at Peter's side. Raised that pup since he was a one-eye reject and he's already favoring his mage partner, go figures.

Clint's had a tremor to his arms for the better half of the day, and it'll hold that way for as long as he can to spare what lyrium he had. Fuck, he could use a drink if only to drown out this feeling. He's anxious to lay to rest, as the wind through the trees is about all he can make out with his hearing and he can't tell the direct. Lucky seems fine with everything, and even Peter seems relaxed for the evening. They have been lucky with choosing to pass through the thickest part of this forest.

A hand touches to his arm, and he is met with the darkest eyes at night looking at him. They were deep, like he could fall into them, and he knows he wants to. If he be a demon, than he'd happily let desire take him. Peter's hand are moving, in the elvish hand language, which Clint had been learning since had been losing his hearing.

Thank the Maker for small miracles that Peter knew the hand, and Clint finds his heart starting to pound, heat rising to his cheeks. YOU'RE SAFE WITH ME, YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT? The archer stares at him for a long moment than going to reach his hand out to go take the mage's hand, bringing it to his face to press his lips to his palms.

Lips stay pressed there for a moment, before he pulls away to sign back to Peter. Trying his hardest not to be bothered by the tremor, just two more days he had to stick it out and than he would take out his kit and prepare lyrium for ingestion. « I know I know »

[starsnheroes]

“Hey..” he finally breaks the soft silence the two of them have had for who knows how long, nudging at Clint’s side with his elbow, looking up at Clint though his long lashes from where he had his head rested on Clint’s shoulder.

“… I finally learned how to drive.”

@crisispider -> the boys trying to be soft with each other i am so emotional about them.

There is a moment that he isn't sure that he's real ⸻ the only confirmation that he gets that he is? It's the fact that the Peter next to him is older. The Peter that has followed him, talked to him, the one he knows he hallucinates which he isn't sure if you can hallucinate from alcohol or not ⸻ it's all beside the point. That Peter was always young, just as he remembered him and any time he touched him it was like feeling cold fire in his soul.

What really doesn't feel real was seeing the two kids with him ⸻ except they weren't kids. They were older, adults or almost adults. Young adults. HE DIDN'T KNOW THEM. He recognizes Mayday's red hair and her wide eyes, but everything else? It's new, not matching the kid that he was third co-parent with. He sees glimpses of her, of the kid that he knew. HIS BUG.

The other kid, Ashley, his ⸺ their second daughter. She's a stranger, except he sees the Barton anger rooted in her. Kid was definitely related to him. HIS HEART BROKE FOR HER WHEN SHE CAME TO THEM. Left him with so many question, and he had wanted to go searching to find out what happened. Where his brother went if he knew that he was going to be HIS kid's dad now?

NONE OF THAT MATTERED NOW ⸻Poor kid, a lot of reasons to be angry.

Clint takes a swig from his flask, damn needs a refill, and a sigh gets let out. HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO BE SOFT ANYMORE. The old archer was trying, touching his hand to Peter's. Letting his fingers roam the plane of his thigh, the back of his hand, and wanting to familiarize himself with his feeling.

The love of his life, alive and crossed back into his life. Peter may be his soulmate even, and HE LOVES HIM. His head on his shoulder, and it's different now but that doesn't change. There's things he needs to do, because the hurt didn't go away. HE TRIED, IS TRYING, TO DROWN IT. It wasn't going down, the world needed to burn, he needed to burn.

TO TAKE ALL HIS HATE AND RAGE, MOLD IT INTO AN ARROW TIP, AND SHOOT IT THROUGH THEIR HEARTS.

"I finally learned how to drive."

His eyebrows furrow together as Peter breaks the silence, fingers drag along his thigh back to his hand. Goes to wrap around Peter's hand, finger tips touching to his palm and tracing a nonsense shape. HOLDING ⸻ he missed him so damn much. ❝ WHAT? ❞ His voice cracks, and than there is a smile threatening to start at his lips.

❝ NAH ⸺ No way, you? YOU? ❞ Clint turns his head, to press his lips to Peter's forehead. He had forgotten how to be affectionate; it's been so long and he feels guilty that there was sex in between. All of that was meaningless. HE FORGOT, BUT HE WAS TRYING.

❝ Awwbe damned if you can drive. ❞ Blue eyes drift down to look at their hands. FUCKING CRAZY. ALL OF IT. ❝ So y'know, Pe- ba- ❞ What does he call him after all this time? He can't decide, and fuck it. ❝ Peter baby, you're gunna hafta prove it! ❞ The man believes the other, and he was sure that Peter could drive. With how the world has been going, that was necessary skill now. His love has managed to keep both their daughters alive this far, there's definitely a whole lot of new skills and thing he does not know about his Peter.

He's just trying to be light and teasing, bring back some of their old hot fire.

[starsnheroes]

"OH FUCK OFF!" It was INVOLUNTARY he swears, but it spills out of his mouth the moment he sees Clint, standing there in that DAMN SUIT. So all he can think to do is just POUT as he stands in the middle of the room, hands in the middle of some WILD gesture to emphasize his point.

"Baby, babe, honey, love of my life, pilot of my heart.. I'M BEGGING you! HAVE MERCY!!" he is dramatically on his KNEES in seconds at Clint's legs, his hands pretending to GRASP dramatically at Clint's pant legs. "Who are you trying to WOO? is it Leonard? Oh Clinton say it isn't SO! I am gonna owe Scotty so much money if that's the case!! Baby!! Who you looking so good for? Because It can't POSSIBLY be little ol me!" He apparently is all DRAMATICS tonight.

This was AWFUL, absolutely the worst possible thing because he's NOT MADE FOR THIS. Putting on clothes like these (could you even count suits as clothes? they felt like something other) were absolutely not the kind thing that Clint did. EVER.

He had been grumbly when he was told, INFORMED, that the Captain wanted to see everyone in their finest looking their sharpest. SOMTHING LIKE THAT. Clint hadn't been paying much attention to what this was even for, and would he have really cared? NO ⸻ NOT AT ALL.

The point was still standing that he would be putting on a suit, and looking his SHARPEST for the sake of. . . . . something. Clint surprised himself to be admitting that was finding it weird to not be visibly in uniform, something that he's gotten use to over the years. WAIT, WOULD HE HAVE PREFERRD IT? There were variations on the Starfleet uniforms intended to be formal, he should have worn one of those but that NO UNIFORMS.

What a selfish prick! Bet he just wanted suits and dresses attire code, so he could stare at a certain someone's boobs.

Clint's already knows he was going to feel AWKWARD as hell in a large social gathering; he's avoid them since going sober. It's not the NIGHTCLUBS he'd ended up at after a good show performed at the circus, meeting Bobbi Bird for dancing, but mostly to get raunchy with each other, where the music was so loud that the cacophony of sound didn't bother him. The vibrations of that sound being felt in his throat. AND DRINKS.

Now he felt like a joke, even if he knows he looks good. CLEANS UP WELL. He's not a people person, but than he's a performer by natural and more of a people person than others when needed. HE FEELS LIKE A FOOL ⸻ UNTIL ⸺

There was PETER in the room, in the middle of their quarters looking at him and he's not even dressed. He had been vaguely aware of when he had came in, but had been futzing with the tie too focused on getting it to not look like he strangled it and himself.

HAVE MERCY ⸻ And hands are tugging at his pant leg, and Peter is looking at him. HIS HEART CAN'T TAKE HIM SOME DAYS. A laugh leaves his lips at the names, at the way that Peter throws himself into the dramatics. CLINT ALWAYS TOLD HIM HE'D FIT RIGHT IN WITH CARNIES.

Always for a flair for dramatics ⸻ Clint's hand goes to Peter's hair, stroking for a moment before he's going to take his partner's hand. ❝ There's a rumor about me and Leonard in engineering? ❞ He asks, total amusement in his eyes and he can't help the teasing. ❝ Think the Doc knows about that? ❞ If he doesn't, than Clint had something new to torment Leonard over. He's pulling Peter up to his feet.

Hands than going to slip down to the engineer's hips, hold him against him. ❝ Lucky news for you, you aren't losing any money ⸻ only room in my life for one brunet to kiss and that's you baby, c'mon you gotta get dressed now too, and maybe help me with my tie? ❞ LIPS PRESS TO PETER'S, and he lingers like that for as long as he can. He knows he just rushed him, but Clint could spend hours just kissing his lips.

[starsnheroes]

A TIRED PETER HAS EMERGED!!!

He has come wandering in tired and honestly? A little nonsensical. (He could possibly have a concussion or be really sleep deprived, WHO KNOWS!) Peter is moving to lay his head down on Clint's lap (If he was doing something, he is done doing it now, it's Peter time.) so he can live there until the end of time.

There's nothing that had immediately needed his attention, those singular days when the Thunderbolts uniform is hung on the wall by the door (in case things change) where he's given a recharge day. He thinks he's going to catch up on tv he's been hearing about, talked about around the water cooler. He had thought that he would be doing that, but instead he flicks from the live tv until he finds one of those channels with semi-reality tv. It doesn't really matter what it was, but it happens to be food-related (it's cutthroat kitchen). The volume is turned way down, as a surprise to himself he had end up picking a book off one of his many shelves to read.

It's not often that he actually does this anymore, settling for an old western book, well loved spined and pages secondhand book. He thinks he actually has read this one before, and hadn't been picked up when Clint use to scour secondhand shops and just pick up things. Books often picked out, it harkens back to times in the orphanage, tucked in his bed and read pulp fictions.

Food today had been the lazy man's meal of a big pop of mac 'n cheese with a whole pack of hot dogs chopped up than added. The lazy day was needed, with their line of work. Clint decides the only thing he was doing was finishing this book, it's on the shorter end given the publishing date was in the 70s. Now he can lie and say he does in fact read books, even if this was thee first one for leisure in probably a decade. Anything else was usually related to hero business, personal work he took on himself.

Lucky's head raises up, alerting him to the front door opening which it takes a moment for whatever is at the door to get through. Probably realizing the door needs to be unlocked. In comes Peter, it's been recent that he's gotten the keys to his place. Clint glances up towards him, raising an eyebrow and his lips part about to say something, it'll probably be stupid because he's not sure how to handle his feelings. Boyfriends, something special about the two of them. ❝ Hey there, what's the long face for? ❞ YEAH, THAT WAS DEFINTILY STUPID. Clint's about to get up, but he's too slow even for a drained Parker whose on the couch, head in his lap before too long.

He's actually laid his head down on top of the book, and Clint pretends to sigh exasperated. ❝ You saboteur, I was reading this. ❞ He moves his hand to ruffle lightly at his hair, scratching at his scalp ever so gently. Nudge the book out from under his head. ❝ You're an assassin, because you sniped my goal of reading a book ⸻ so I can prove to everyone I can read. ❞ Even if he himself jokes about how he can't read.

He dog ears the page, because he hadn't planned on putting the book down until it was read through (and Peter sabotaged that). Clint cups Peter's face, turns his head to face up towards him so he can gaze down. inspect his face. It looks like black eye is probably going to be forming over his left. He brushes his thumb over his cheek, then holds his chin, thumb brushing over his lips. ❝ Should I have seen the other guy ⸺ Hi Pete. ❞ OH, THERE'S THIS FEELING THAT RISES IN HIS CHEST ⸻ HE WANTS TO TAKE CARE OF HIM.

With his index finger, he brushes his bangs off of his forehead. Simply wanting to touch his face. His eyes are like the earth, the soil, and there's feeling of ground ⸻ it's a good feeling. ❝ If you meet me half way, I'll kiss ya, babe. ❞ He bends as best he can in his seated position, sliding Peter's head over to rest at his knees so that he can kiss him slow, lips parting to deepen it and Peter's definitely beat his book in a battle for his attention. There's always next day off, right?

❝ How can I take care of you? ❞ Clint finds himself asking, squeeze in his chest and oh fuck, he doesn't want to screw that up. He was a bad husband, not always the best boyfriend; but oh, to try, to try to care for someone else.

[starsnheroes]

"I got you a ring pop." He holds it to the other, it's already out of it's wrapper and everything. Peter was licking his own watermelon sour flavor (is it on his left hand? but his index finger.. what does this mean? nothing of course.)

"Cherry is your favorite right?" It's just an innocent ring pop. Nothing more, nothing less. (Or is it?)

It was at Peter Parker's apartment that he had decided to roost. Taking the stack of papers, tucked in those ugly yellow folders, and brought it HOME ⸻ this place that was no longer precisely a destination; the meaning of the very word changed.

TO FOCUS ON THAT FEELING ⸻ HOME WITH A DIFFERENT MEANING. Clint would find himself pondering, often in moments like this (sitting down, leant over a collection of papers). Today specifically he's at the small table that has been designated the dining table, which on several days was the catch all table.

Clint often disposed many objects at this table, anywhere from packages to arrow-making kits (all to be dealt with at a later). THIS PLACE HAD BECAME A HOME ⸻ But THE HOME was a different place entirely; lacking of, in fact, being a place at all. IT WAS A PERSON, IT WAS BECOMING PETER.

Another one of those things that he pondered was how had he GOTTEN SO LUCKY. It sure wasn't in his nature of luck to end up completely smitten (no, that part was par for the course) but it wasn't in his nature for that to last without any major SCREW UPS or something hindering them.

LIKE ⸻ you know, he wasn't going to get into the old aches. Clint needed to get this paperwork done, because YOU ARE THE TEAM LEADER ⸺ AND ⸺ NEED TO SET AN EXAMPLE. Being all official, government approved and city sanctioned, meant doing paperwork. The Avengers had that too; but the point standing that being all OFFICIAL meant heaps of paperwork.

Actually, he just needed to do this before Helen started holding hostage, or booking him for more interviews (who ever let him open his mouth made a mistake). ⸻ DISTRACTION !!

The front door opens, with Peter wandering in with a few re-usable tote bag in arm, returning from a grocery run. FINALLY ⸻ PETER'S WHINE ABOUT HAVING NOTHING IN THE FRIDGE FOR WEEKS (it's cause he has been mooching off the fridge at their brooklyn home which one of them needed to say something and move in to one apartment or another).

Clint only mumbles a greeting, leaning over to the side that Peter come up on, letting him kiss him before focus is put back onto the paperwork (with much more frustration now). He listens to his talkative love (OH GOSH HOW HE LOVES HIM) go on about three and a half tangents while he restocks his own kitchen. ❝ Oh, yup, that's great, baby. ❞ He'll input here-there, until Peter's back at his side again interrupting Clint's train of thought as he's trying to transcribe Eegro's writing (which why the hell did whatever Eegro was need to write reports as well).

He's doing that crouch that he liked to do, which why hadn't Peter jut pulled up a chair. HE'S SO GODDAMN RIDICULOUS. A red ⸺ A RED RING POP ⸺ is presented in front of him.

"I got you a ring pop."

YES, HE SEES THAT. There's other things that he has clocked because Hawkeye was not literal but to some degree, Clint's trained himself in visual perception. KNOWING HOW TO TAKEN IN A SIGHT, A SCENE, AT A GLANCE. Picking up on small things, points where an arrow might cause a chain reaction, and so on. Something anyone can do with practice. THE OTHER THINGS BEING ⸻ The crouched position at his side, could almost be a kneel if he squinted really tight ⸺ and ⸺ Peter's got his own RING POP on his left hand (index finger but that's probably because it fit better).

"Cherry is your favorite right?"

Clint sets his pen down, which was a poor choice to work with because he's got scribbles of pen ink drawn over his palms whenever the ballpoint would die on him and he couldn't just scribble on government documents. LOOK HE'S TAKING HIS JOB SERIOUSLY (as much as Peter gets to hear Clint bitch about a system he hates, and worrying that he has become a part of the system; mourning the days of old).

IT'S NOT A PROPOSAL ⸻ but there's that smile on Peter's face, all too innocent that makes Clint pause for a moment. THEY HAD JUST CELEBRATED AN ANNIVERSARY NOT ALL THAT LONG AGO. They had been working well enough together, Mayday was walking and talking.

He takes the ring pop, give it a lick. ARIFITICAL FLAVOUR ⸻ HIS FAVORITE.

❝ Oh gosh, is the big bad, be your boyfriend question? ⸺ You know I had thought we were already doing that, I mean what I am doing here? Was I not your boyfriend already? 'Causse if not, boy, do I feel embarrassed. I thought we had a great thing going here. ❞ He jokes, but that was something couples considered after a time and they really did need to have the talk about a permanent living situation. Peter's place was better, Mayday was going to want and need her own room. In the bedroom with Clint and Peter, or the couch was not ideal or permanently situation for a growing kid.

Gosh, who could he ask on the top floor that he move them to lower apartments (his apartment with the loft) and made a lot of barbecue for the neighbors, for some light construction to make a larger apartment on the top for room for. . . FAMILY.

❝ Sure thing, baby, I'll be your boyfriend. ❞ AND MORE, EVENTUALLY. Sooner than later. Keep asking him.

[starsnheroes]

"Why are there webs...everywhere? WHY CLINT?!"

HARASS CLINT ABOUT RELATIONSHIPS HE HAS ON THIS BLOG // Tony Stark (@/mr-tony-stark), Jessica Drew (@/biitchcakes), Peter Parker (@/crisispider) are clint's only ships atm (but come ship w/ me) -> each ship is in their own separate universe

❝ Well, you see. . . ❞ Be prepared for some total bullshit. ❝ Forgotten fact about me, but you know I make arrows and test them out. ⸻ So you know, @crisispider left some webfluid around. . . ❞ Okay, that's not actually a total lie.

He did acquire some webfliud for making webs from Spiderman; however, they were legally acquired. He simply asked, plus when he's leaving the stuff in the "Supers' Office" in the basement. Clint's sure he didn't mind.

❝ So I thought WHAT IF ⸺ I made a web arrow, an official Spiderman web arrow. ❞ Okay, that's not a lie either.

The issue was, is that Pietro had barged into his apartment, while Clint was cleaning up. See he figured this was one of those, Quicksilver had nothing better to do today, so he though he'd harass Clint because he's obsessed with him (sorry, but you aren't his type and he's taken).

THE LIES COMES IN BECAUSE THESE WEBS ⸻ ❝ See, I gotta test out the webbing and arrow somehow ❞ IN YOUR APARTMENT CLINT? ⸻ THESE WEBS?

These web around his apartment is definitely from Clint being an absolute filthy horn dog for his boyfriend. Remain from his and Peter's sexcapades. BUT HE'S NOT TELLING PIETRO THAT.

❝ OR MAYBE I set these web as a trap for you? For you know, being a pest. Webs to catch the incessant fly? ❞