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sarea
Title: Wet Hot Avengers Summer (AO3)
Author:sarea_okelani
Rating: PG-13, for teenagers getting up to what teenagers get up to
Pairings: Clint/Natasha, Tony/Pepper, Thor/Jane, minor Clint/Bobbi and Phil/Cellist, Clint & Coulson, Clint & Tony
Summary: At summer camp, Clint’s met the girl of his dreams. Then he meets her four brothers.
If you missed them: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
//\\
They don’t get caught.
The first night, it’s a close call, because the camp counselors sneak out after curfew also, and the lake seems to be just as popular a destination late at night as it is during the day. Clint nearly interrupts Natasha’s brother Steve necking with Maria, but Natasha intercepts him in time, pulling him behind a tree and pressing her palm over his mouth in a fluid execution before he even knows what’s happening.
After that, they’re much more careful. Clint waits to sneak out until his cabin mates are asleep – or as best as he can tell, anyway. So far no one seems to have ratted him out to anyone in authority, and Phil would confront him about it if he knew, so Clint figures his nighttime activities have gone undetected for now.
He usually meets Natasha in a copse just off the path to the lake – it’s hidden enough from casual observation, yet gets enough ambient light from the main campsite and the moonlight off the lake that it’s not completely pitch black there. If he arrives before she does, Clint climbs a tree and waits for her, then jumps down when she arrives. The first time he does this he scares Natasha so badly that she practically takes his head off with some kind of folding knife that she has on her, but he feints in time and the blade ends up in the tree instead. She gets used to his ways and doesn’t react that way again.
Where they end up changes every time. Depending on who has patrol duties that night, they might just stay in the thicket of trees, Clint leaning against a broad trunk and Natasha leaning against him. The first time they meet, Natasha is in the same clothes she wore during the day, even though it can get pretty chilly at night. Clint gives her his hoodie to wear while she rubs his arms to keep him warm. He lets her wear it back to her cabin, and hasn’t seen it since.
Sometimes Natasha feels more adventurous, and she’s surprisingly good at picking locks. She seems almost disappointed on the nights when they go to a classroom and find that the instructor has accidentally forgotten to lock it. Having familiarity with the kitchen due to KP duty, Clint has been able to sneak them cookies and milk from time to time. Natasha says she’d rather have coffee, but that’s trickier to get, and anyway he doesn’t see her refusing what he offers.
They tell each other their histories. Clint generally isn’t a fan of talking about himself, but it’s different with Natasha. He feels like he can tell her anything. She never looks like she feels sorry for him, or sad. Sometimes she looks angry, like when he tells her about Jacques beating him so badly he spends two weeks in the hospital, but that’s okay because it’s pretty hot that she looks like she would kill someone on his behalf.
Natasha explains that Tony and the others aren’t her biological brothers, which explains a lot because none of them look anything alike. She says that they are the only family she’s ever known, though, because her parents died when she was very young, and living in Russia at the time, and she barely remembers anything about her life until her foster father Nick took her in.
Somehow it makes perfect sense that they are both orphans.
“I wish I had brothers like you, though,” Clint says. “Maybe not those brothers, but at least they care about you. I don’t know where my brother is, and we’re related by blood. I’ve always wanted to be in a really big family.”
“I’m glad you weren’t adopted by my family,” Natasha says, and Clint is kind of hurt until she continues, “Because that would make me your sister, and I don’t want you to see me that way.”
“I could never,” Clint splutters, and she laughs. He thinks, but doesn’t say, that this is impossible. He could never have brotherly feelings toward her. Even if she were his sister for real, he would probably still feel exactly as he does right now, and they’d be like those people in the news who get shunned by society and arrested because they’re siblings and are together anyway. “I like where I am now. Paul and Anna are okay. They had a son who died. They let me come here with Phil.”
“Phil? Phil Coulson?” Natasha says. “Isn’t he the guy who has a crush on that cellist? What’s her name?”
“You know about that?” Clint says, surprised. He didn’t think anything he or Phil did was worthy of being on anyone’s radar.
“Everyone knows about that,” she smirks.
Talking isn’t the only thing they do. There is also kissing. A lot of kissing. And other things. Clint can’t decide what he likes best so he decides that he likes everything equally.
He can’t believe some of the other things they do, partly because he’s never imagined that a girl would ever do those things to him, or let him do those things to her, and partly because he’s never imagined some of the things, period. It’s all leading somewhere that Clint desperately wants to go, but is also reluctant to, because he’s never done it before, and he doesn’t want to be terrible and disappoint Natasha.
There are four other unpredictable variables Clint should possibly be taking into account, but his sense of self preservation disappears around the same time that Natasha’s fumbling with the fastening of his jeans, and the thought of her brothers is the furthest thing from his mind.
Sometimes when she has her hands there and draws him close so that she can rub against him it’s all he can do to remember his own name, much less why he’s trying to resist her. But Clint’s pretty sure Natasha just likes to tease him. She doesn’t strike him as the irresponsible type, and while she lets him be the one to protest (feebly) that they don’t have condoms, it must give her pause, too. They’ve so far managed to refrain from taking that final step, but when her teeth are digging insistently into his neck and he’s got his hands firmly under her shirt, a flimsy piece of latex doesn’t seem like a very good reason to stop.
That might be why Natasha seems determined that they’re going to do it, though, before camp is over. She keeps talking about getting condoms from somewhere, maybe one of her brothers, though Clint sincerely hopes they find another source. He is unbearably excited by the thought of having sex with her, even as the idea of being really bad at it, and the look on her face when she realizes it, makes him feel somewhat queasy.
//\\
Clint and Natasha meet almost every night, and sometimes they don’t get back to their respective cabins until pink streaks brush the sky. He’s never felt so tired or so happy. Sometimes he finds himself falling asleep during his guitar lessons, and some afternoons he takes naps, waking from them more groggy than when he first falls into bed. Phil won’t stop bothering him about this bizarre behavior, getting so concerned that he suggests that maybe there’s something seriously wrong with Clint and he needs to see a doctor. Not wanting Phil to actually act on this worry by telling a counselor about it, Clint is forced to tell him about his middle-of-the-night assignations with Natasha. Phil is initially annoyed that Clint would keep such a thing from him, when they are supposed to be friends and have each other’s backs, but he quickly gets over it and covers for him when he has to, even while calling him a lucky son of a bitch.
The weeks pass by, Clint gets used to his new routine, and even makes significant progress on playing Anji. He’s not looking forward to the talent show, but now at least he’s not dreading it. He thinks he can get through it without making a complete ass of himself.
No, he dreads the end-of-camp talent show (and dance, which takes place afterward) for a whole other reason: as the name implies, it signals the end of camp, and therefore, the day he’ll have to say goodbye to Natasha.
They’ve talked about it; it’s not as though they’ve been ignoring the inevitable. But the thought of not being able to see her every day makes his chest feel weird and tight, and this unnamed panicky feeling comes over him. No matter how much she seems to like him, they come from different worlds, and once she’s back in her world, it seems probable – likely, even – that she’ll forget all about the boy she met at SHIELD camp. She says that she’ll write him, and gives him her phone number so he can call her whenever he wants, but Clint’s not comforted by these assurances. He’s said too many goodbyes to too many people, and the one thing he knows for sure is that life has a knack for getting in the way of promises.
There’s always next summer... except Clint can’t say with any certainty that he’ll be in a position to come back to SHIELD, not when he can’t even say that he’ll be living under the same roof in three months. Clint learned long ago not to make plans for the future. He’s always taken things day by day. But since getting to know Natasha, the future is suddenly something that is on his mind a lot, and he thinks he might finally understand what other people mean about having someone to go home to.
One day, distracted by thoughts of Natasha (which happens more often than he’d like to admit), Clint’s instincts for danger are not on high alert as he’s crossing the empty range where the archery class usually practices. However, it’s not a stray arrow from some amateur archer that finally makes him look around – although a dangerous projectile might be preferable to the realization that he’s surrounded by three of Natasha’s brothers.
“Hey,” Tony says, amiably enough, but Clint’s not fooled. Behind that easy smile is someone who can make your life hell if he wants to, and oh, he wants to.
“Hey,” Clint responds warily, looking for an escape route. If he’s left with no choice, he’s pretty sure he can outrun them, but he refuses to give them that satisfaction. Besides, he has been fooling around with their sister, so part of him resigns himself to the ‘justice’ he knows they feel he deserves.
Bruce growls – actually growls – and Tony holds up a hand to forestall him. “Funny story,” he continues in that same conversational tone. “I got up last night to take a leak, and I could have sworn that I saw you and my sister sneaking out of the science classroom.”
Clint crosses his arms. Maybe he’s going to get the shit beaten out of him, but he’s not going to just lie down. “The bathrooms near your cabin are nowhere near the science classroom.”
Tony pauses, looking thoughtful. “What are you, a geography professor? The point is what I saw.”
“What you think you saw,” Clint corrects.
Bruce growls again, and out of the corner of his eye Clint can see the other guy take a step closer to him, which makes Clint take an involuntary step back. For a dude who isn’t very big, Bruce somehow manages to project a lot of menace.
“You deny it?” Thor demands, and unlike Bruce, he actually is quite intimidating physically. One of his biceps is roughly the size of Clint’s thigh.
“No,” Clint says. “But there could be a good reason for us to be in the science classroom.”
“Oh really,” Tony laughs, looking like a cat playing with a mouse. “And pray tell, what would you and my sister be studying in the science room so intently in the middle of the night?”
“Biology,” Clint says.
For the briefest of seconds there’s actually a look of admiration on Tony’s face, but a fist – Bruce’s probably – connects with Clint’s cheek, and he goes down. And his previous bruises had been healing so nicely. The other guys fall down on top of him, and each other, and there are flailing limbs and grunts and cries of pain, not all of them Clint’s.
It takes a few seconds in the midst of the chaos to realize that there is a cry of real alarm. The forearm that’s been pressed against Clint’s throat – not entirely on purpose, he suspects – lifts away, and Clint chokes and splutters into the ground. “Holy shit!” he hears Tony say.
When breathing is no longer an issue, Clint sees why they’ve been distracted from him. Thor’s wrestling with a huge animal, its tusks inches away from his jugular. “What the hell is that?”
“Who cares? It’s trying to kill Thor!” Tony says. He has good reason to sound panicked, because it appears that Thor’s getting tired of holding the beast off. Bruce seems to realize this as well, and he charges at it, succeeding in drawing the horned thing’s attention away from Thor and onto himself. He has fresh muscles and adrenaline on his side, but he’s not going to last long, either. The thing seems enraged, hell bent on killing one or all of them if it can.
Tony drops to the ground next to Thor, who’s bleeding from the nose. He doesn’t have any other scratches on him, so the thing must’ve head butted him or something. “Go get help,” Tony says to Clint, then charges into the fray to try and help Bruce with the beast.
The archery range is too far, Clint knows. By the time he gets help – wasting who knows how much time trying to explain what’s going on – the thing will have killed or seriously injured these idiot brothers of Natasha’s. Clint grabs one of the spare recurve bows that the archery kids have left lying around, along with an arrow. It’s been a long time since he used one of these things, but at least he did get a few lessons from Buck – it was the only thing he ever got out of that particular foster father. Clint nocks the arrow and pulls on the bowstring, taking aim. His hands and his breath are steady.
Thor’s eyes widen as he takes this in. “Barton, what are you—” he starts, and Clint releases the arrow.
Tony, Bruce, and the beast all seem to collapse at once. Clint doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until Tony rolls over, groaning.
“Holy shit!” Tony exclaims when he sees the arrow protruding from the animal’s eye socket. He looks over at Clint, who’s still holding the bow. “Dude. I find you extremely attractive right now.”
“Get it off me,” comes Bruce’s slightly muffled voice, and Clint tosses the bow aside so they can all roll the thing off him. Bruce seems none of the worse for wear, though he has some serious grass stains on his shirt that are probably never coming out. His other injuries are just as likely to have come from the altercation they were having before the animal showed up.
“It’s a giant pig,” Thor muses, looking down at the corpse of their assailant. “Why did it attack us?”
Tony helps Bruce up. “It does seem strange,” Bruce says, in the mildest voice Clint has ever heard. He can’t help but gape at him.
“Secret government experiments,” Tony says immediately. “I bet if we take some blood samples and test them, we’ll find that this is a genetically engineered boar that’s been raised to do one thing and one thing only – rend human flesh.”
Thor and Bruce roll their eyes; Clint wants to but can’t, and he realizes for the first time that his left eye’s nearly swollen shut.
“You should probably go to the infirmary,” Bruce says, seeming to have come to the same realization. He shoots Clint an apologetic, almost shy smile.
“Dude, are you bipolar?” Clint blurts, before he can think better of it.
The other guys only laugh, Thor even clapping him on the back, sending Clint stumbling. This isn’t exactly how he’d imagined winning over Natasha’s brothers, but he’ll take it.
Author:
sarea_okelaniRating: PG-13, for teenagers getting up to what teenagers get up to
Pairings: Clint/Natasha, Tony/Pepper, Thor/Jane, minor Clint/Bobbi and Phil/Cellist, Clint & Coulson, Clint & Tony
Summary: At summer camp, Clint’s met the girl of his dreams. Then he meets her four brothers.
If you missed them: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
//\\
They don’t get caught.
The first night, it’s a close call, because the camp counselors sneak out after curfew also, and the lake seems to be just as popular a destination late at night as it is during the day. Clint nearly interrupts Natasha’s brother Steve necking with Maria, but Natasha intercepts him in time, pulling him behind a tree and pressing her palm over his mouth in a fluid execution before he even knows what’s happening.
After that, they’re much more careful. Clint waits to sneak out until his cabin mates are asleep – or as best as he can tell, anyway. So far no one seems to have ratted him out to anyone in authority, and Phil would confront him about it if he knew, so Clint figures his nighttime activities have gone undetected for now.
He usually meets Natasha in a copse just off the path to the lake – it’s hidden enough from casual observation, yet gets enough ambient light from the main campsite and the moonlight off the lake that it’s not completely pitch black there. If he arrives before she does, Clint climbs a tree and waits for her, then jumps down when she arrives. The first time he does this he scares Natasha so badly that she practically takes his head off with some kind of folding knife that she has on her, but he feints in time and the blade ends up in the tree instead. She gets used to his ways and doesn’t react that way again.
Where they end up changes every time. Depending on who has patrol duties that night, they might just stay in the thicket of trees, Clint leaning against a broad trunk and Natasha leaning against him. The first time they meet, Natasha is in the same clothes she wore during the day, even though it can get pretty chilly at night. Clint gives her his hoodie to wear while she rubs his arms to keep him warm. He lets her wear it back to her cabin, and hasn’t seen it since.
Sometimes Natasha feels more adventurous, and she’s surprisingly good at picking locks. She seems almost disappointed on the nights when they go to a classroom and find that the instructor has accidentally forgotten to lock it. Having familiarity with the kitchen due to KP duty, Clint has been able to sneak them cookies and milk from time to time. Natasha says she’d rather have coffee, but that’s trickier to get, and anyway he doesn’t see her refusing what he offers.
They tell each other their histories. Clint generally isn’t a fan of talking about himself, but it’s different with Natasha. He feels like he can tell her anything. She never looks like she feels sorry for him, or sad. Sometimes she looks angry, like when he tells her about Jacques beating him so badly he spends two weeks in the hospital, but that’s okay because it’s pretty hot that she looks like she would kill someone on his behalf.
Natasha explains that Tony and the others aren’t her biological brothers, which explains a lot because none of them look anything alike. She says that they are the only family she’s ever known, though, because her parents died when she was very young, and living in Russia at the time, and she barely remembers anything about her life until her foster father Nick took her in.
Somehow it makes perfect sense that they are both orphans.
“I wish I had brothers like you, though,” Clint says. “Maybe not those brothers, but at least they care about you. I don’t know where my brother is, and we’re related by blood. I’ve always wanted to be in a really big family.”
“I’m glad you weren’t adopted by my family,” Natasha says, and Clint is kind of hurt until she continues, “Because that would make me your sister, and I don’t want you to see me that way.”
“I could never,” Clint splutters, and she laughs. He thinks, but doesn’t say, that this is impossible. He could never have brotherly feelings toward her. Even if she were his sister for real, he would probably still feel exactly as he does right now, and they’d be like those people in the news who get shunned by society and arrested because they’re siblings and are together anyway. “I like where I am now. Paul and Anna are okay. They had a son who died. They let me come here with Phil.”
“Phil? Phil Coulson?” Natasha says. “Isn’t he the guy who has a crush on that cellist? What’s her name?”
“You know about that?” Clint says, surprised. He didn’t think anything he or Phil did was worthy of being on anyone’s radar.
“Everyone knows about that,” she smirks.
Talking isn’t the only thing they do. There is also kissing. A lot of kissing. And other things. Clint can’t decide what he likes best so he decides that he likes everything equally.
He can’t believe some of the other things they do, partly because he’s never imagined that a girl would ever do those things to him, or let him do those things to her, and partly because he’s never imagined some of the things, period. It’s all leading somewhere that Clint desperately wants to go, but is also reluctant to, because he’s never done it before, and he doesn’t want to be terrible and disappoint Natasha.
There are four other unpredictable variables Clint should possibly be taking into account, but his sense of self preservation disappears around the same time that Natasha’s fumbling with the fastening of his jeans, and the thought of her brothers is the furthest thing from his mind.
Sometimes when she has her hands there and draws him close so that she can rub against him it’s all he can do to remember his own name, much less why he’s trying to resist her. But Clint’s pretty sure Natasha just likes to tease him. She doesn’t strike him as the irresponsible type, and while she lets him be the one to protest (feebly) that they don’t have condoms, it must give her pause, too. They’ve so far managed to refrain from taking that final step, but when her teeth are digging insistently into his neck and he’s got his hands firmly under her shirt, a flimsy piece of latex doesn’t seem like a very good reason to stop.
That might be why Natasha seems determined that they’re going to do it, though, before camp is over. She keeps talking about getting condoms from somewhere, maybe one of her brothers, though Clint sincerely hopes they find another source. He is unbearably excited by the thought of having sex with her, even as the idea of being really bad at it, and the look on her face when she realizes it, makes him feel somewhat queasy.
//\\
Clint and Natasha meet almost every night, and sometimes they don’t get back to their respective cabins until pink streaks brush the sky. He’s never felt so tired or so happy. Sometimes he finds himself falling asleep during his guitar lessons, and some afternoons he takes naps, waking from them more groggy than when he first falls into bed. Phil won’t stop bothering him about this bizarre behavior, getting so concerned that he suggests that maybe there’s something seriously wrong with Clint and he needs to see a doctor. Not wanting Phil to actually act on this worry by telling a counselor about it, Clint is forced to tell him about his middle-of-the-night assignations with Natasha. Phil is initially annoyed that Clint would keep such a thing from him, when they are supposed to be friends and have each other’s backs, but he quickly gets over it and covers for him when he has to, even while calling him a lucky son of a bitch.
The weeks pass by, Clint gets used to his new routine, and even makes significant progress on playing Anji. He’s not looking forward to the talent show, but now at least he’s not dreading it. He thinks he can get through it without making a complete ass of himself.
No, he dreads the end-of-camp talent show (and dance, which takes place afterward) for a whole other reason: as the name implies, it signals the end of camp, and therefore, the day he’ll have to say goodbye to Natasha.
They’ve talked about it; it’s not as though they’ve been ignoring the inevitable. But the thought of not being able to see her every day makes his chest feel weird and tight, and this unnamed panicky feeling comes over him. No matter how much she seems to like him, they come from different worlds, and once she’s back in her world, it seems probable – likely, even – that she’ll forget all about the boy she met at SHIELD camp. She says that she’ll write him, and gives him her phone number so he can call her whenever he wants, but Clint’s not comforted by these assurances. He’s said too many goodbyes to too many people, and the one thing he knows for sure is that life has a knack for getting in the way of promises.
There’s always next summer... except Clint can’t say with any certainty that he’ll be in a position to come back to SHIELD, not when he can’t even say that he’ll be living under the same roof in three months. Clint learned long ago not to make plans for the future. He’s always taken things day by day. But since getting to know Natasha, the future is suddenly something that is on his mind a lot, and he thinks he might finally understand what other people mean about having someone to go home to.
One day, distracted by thoughts of Natasha (which happens more often than he’d like to admit), Clint’s instincts for danger are not on high alert as he’s crossing the empty range where the archery class usually practices. However, it’s not a stray arrow from some amateur archer that finally makes him look around – although a dangerous projectile might be preferable to the realization that he’s surrounded by three of Natasha’s brothers.
“Hey,” Tony says, amiably enough, but Clint’s not fooled. Behind that easy smile is someone who can make your life hell if he wants to, and oh, he wants to.
“Hey,” Clint responds warily, looking for an escape route. If he’s left with no choice, he’s pretty sure he can outrun them, but he refuses to give them that satisfaction. Besides, he has been fooling around with their sister, so part of him resigns himself to the ‘justice’ he knows they feel he deserves.
Bruce growls – actually growls – and Tony holds up a hand to forestall him. “Funny story,” he continues in that same conversational tone. “I got up last night to take a leak, and I could have sworn that I saw you and my sister sneaking out of the science classroom.”
Clint crosses his arms. Maybe he’s going to get the shit beaten out of him, but he’s not going to just lie down. “The bathrooms near your cabin are nowhere near the science classroom.”
Tony pauses, looking thoughtful. “What are you, a geography professor? The point is what I saw.”
“What you think you saw,” Clint corrects.
Bruce growls again, and out of the corner of his eye Clint can see the other guy take a step closer to him, which makes Clint take an involuntary step back. For a dude who isn’t very big, Bruce somehow manages to project a lot of menace.
“You deny it?” Thor demands, and unlike Bruce, he actually is quite intimidating physically. One of his biceps is roughly the size of Clint’s thigh.
“No,” Clint says. “But there could be a good reason for us to be in the science classroom.”
“Oh really,” Tony laughs, looking like a cat playing with a mouse. “And pray tell, what would you and my sister be studying in the science room so intently in the middle of the night?”
“Biology,” Clint says.
For the briefest of seconds there’s actually a look of admiration on Tony’s face, but a fist – Bruce’s probably – connects with Clint’s cheek, and he goes down. And his previous bruises had been healing so nicely. The other guys fall down on top of him, and each other, and there are flailing limbs and grunts and cries of pain, not all of them Clint’s.
It takes a few seconds in the midst of the chaos to realize that there is a cry of real alarm. The forearm that’s been pressed against Clint’s throat – not entirely on purpose, he suspects – lifts away, and Clint chokes and splutters into the ground. “Holy shit!” he hears Tony say.
When breathing is no longer an issue, Clint sees why they’ve been distracted from him. Thor’s wrestling with a huge animal, its tusks inches away from his jugular. “What the hell is that?”
“Who cares? It’s trying to kill Thor!” Tony says. He has good reason to sound panicked, because it appears that Thor’s getting tired of holding the beast off. Bruce seems to realize this as well, and he charges at it, succeeding in drawing the horned thing’s attention away from Thor and onto himself. He has fresh muscles and adrenaline on his side, but he’s not going to last long, either. The thing seems enraged, hell bent on killing one or all of them if it can.
Tony drops to the ground next to Thor, who’s bleeding from the nose. He doesn’t have any other scratches on him, so the thing must’ve head butted him or something. “Go get help,” Tony says to Clint, then charges into the fray to try and help Bruce with the beast.
The archery range is too far, Clint knows. By the time he gets help – wasting who knows how much time trying to explain what’s going on – the thing will have killed or seriously injured these idiot brothers of Natasha’s. Clint grabs one of the spare recurve bows that the archery kids have left lying around, along with an arrow. It’s been a long time since he used one of these things, but at least he did get a few lessons from Buck – it was the only thing he ever got out of that particular foster father. Clint nocks the arrow and pulls on the bowstring, taking aim. His hands and his breath are steady.
Thor’s eyes widen as he takes this in. “Barton, what are you—” he starts, and Clint releases the arrow.
Tony, Bruce, and the beast all seem to collapse at once. Clint doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until Tony rolls over, groaning.
“Holy shit!” Tony exclaims when he sees the arrow protruding from the animal’s eye socket. He looks over at Clint, who’s still holding the bow. “Dude. I find you extremely attractive right now.”
“Get it off me,” comes Bruce’s slightly muffled voice, and Clint tosses the bow aside so they can all roll the thing off him. Bruce seems none of the worse for wear, though he has some serious grass stains on his shirt that are probably never coming out. His other injuries are just as likely to have come from the altercation they were having before the animal showed up.
“It’s a giant pig,” Thor muses, looking down at the corpse of their assailant. “Why did it attack us?”
Tony helps Bruce up. “It does seem strange,” Bruce says, in the mildest voice Clint has ever heard. He can’t help but gape at him.
“Secret government experiments,” Tony says immediately. “I bet if we take some blood samples and test them, we’ll find that this is a genetically engineered boar that’s been raised to do one thing and one thing only – rend human flesh.”
Thor and Bruce roll their eyes; Clint wants to but can’t, and he realizes for the first time that his left eye’s nearly swollen shut.
“You should probably go to the infirmary,” Bruce says, seeming to have come to the same realization. He shoots Clint an apologetic, almost shy smile.
“Dude, are you bipolar?” Clint blurts, before he can think better of it.
The other guys only laugh, Thor even clapping him on the back, sending Clint stumbling. This isn’t exactly how he’d imagined winning over Natasha’s brothers, but he’ll take it.
