"Hey Steve. Go and find the Bird. Dinner's going to be ready in a few," Tony called out from the kitchen to the S.H.I.E.L.D. housing lounge where the Captain had been sitting, engrossed in another one of those reality TV shows that Natasha had told him about.

Steve sighed, slinking down in the couch's soft cushions. "But Tony…," Steve whined back into the kitchen, never taking his eyes off of the large LCD TV hanging from the wall before him.

"Just do it," Tony called back, throwing the slightly dirty dish towel over his shoulder.

Steve got up hastily, tossing the remote onto the couch to his left, mumbling something about 'kids and their technology'. In all honesty, he had no idea where Clint had gone off too. The last time Steve had seen him was this morning when Clint had just finished with his morning shower and stepped out into the hallway before returning to his room. Deciding that Clint was most likely in his bedroom polishing his arrows or staring longingly out through the large windows in his room like he often did, Steve decided to check the Hawk's bedroom first.

Upon running up a flight of stairs (to make sure he got the most exercise as possible) and running down the long hallway, Steve finally reached Clint's bedroom. Rapping his knuckles softly on the oak door in order to not be rude, he called for Clint. After waiting a few moments, there was no reply. Well, Clint didn't seem to be in his room, so Steve's next best guess was to check the bathroom.

Walking down the hallway a little ways, Steve stopped before another oak door. The door was closed, meaning that someone was currently using the bathroom. Knocking softly yet again, a grumble was heard, then the sink running, before the door opened to reveal Bruce holding his razor in his hand looking at Steve.

"What is it Steve?"

"Nothing. Just looking for Clint," Steve plainly said before adding, "Oh, and dinner's going to be ready in a few."

"Oh, alright then," Bruce smiled slightly before returning to shaving his face.

"See yah." Steve gave a small salute before turning on his heel and walking back down the hallway and back downstairs.

After almost 10 minutes of searching every place where Steve thought that Clint might have been, there was only one place left, the shooting range. Why hadn't he thought of that earlier? Clint was always taking the opportunity to try out a new arrow technology that he had developed or that S.H.I.E.L.D. had given him to test out. The rest of the Avengers always referred to the shooting range as the 'Nest', due to the fact that Clint was the one who spent the most time down there.

After entering the 4 digit passcode to the locked metal doors, Steve had finally made his way to the shooting range. Before stepping in, the Captain gave a quick listen, but heard nothing. Well, of course he wasn't going to hear anything! Clint's arrows were the silent killers!

"Clint? Are you in here?" Steve questioned, stepping inside the range, being sure that he wasn't going to be hit with any sharp objects flying in his direction.

There was no response. Not even the shuffling of feet. So, taking a few more steps further, Steve called out again.

"Clint?"

Suddenly, like a flapping of wings, there was a loud 'swoosh' sound from directly behind Steve, causing him to jump and spin around. He was expecting to find an arrow lodged in the back of his skull or something, not to be met with the face of Clint staring at him upside down. That man could dangle from the strangest places, but it had been the first time that Steve had ever seen him hang upside down from one of the metal rafters of the shooting range.

"Jeeze Clint! Don't give me a heart attack," Steve spoke rapidly, looking at Clint with wide eyes.

Clint laughed, all the while still hanging upside down. "Come on, Captain. Your reactions are always priceless."

Steve still hadn't adjusted to Clint's excessive use of sass and sarcasm, but just simply rolled his eyes. "I came to tell you tha-."

Their faces had been so close, that upon Clint trying to remove himself from the rafter, he bumped his face into Steve's. But not only had their faces bumped, but their lips had been locked, further stopping Steve from continuing. Blue met blue and they stared at each other for a while, not moving, Clint still remaining upside down.

Clint had noticed something though. This position, the way that Steve was standing, it was… Perfect. Perfect enough that he was enjoying it. Clint was about to make the first move, when he saw the blue eyes opposite of him close and all of a sudden, a hand reach up and run through his blonde hair.

Steve had taken the opportunity that had been presented to him and decided to run with it. All of this alien fighting and training could really get a man worked up, and the Captain was definitely in a mood to live a little after being frozen in a giant ice block for 65 years. Letting his fingers tangle in the Hawk's soft locks was Steve's way of testing his limits. He didn't want to go too far, and end up with an arrow between the eyes.

Clint smirked a tiny bit into their awkward kiss, before wrapping his own arms around Steve's neck and moving his pouty lips against the taller man's own. From the Hawk's inept position of dangling from the rafter like some sort of bat, their noses kept bumping together, and it was really just a clash of lips and teeth because of that reason. Still, Clint was thoroughly enjoying himself, but all the blood that had rushed to his head was starting to make him dizzy. Pulling away from a now flustered Steve, Clint hopped down from the metal beam, landing silently and effortlessly on the ground.

Steve took a soft gasp of air when Clint had pulled away, his cheeks immediately becoming dusted in a bright red shade of embarrassment. It also didn't help that Clint had begun to chuckle at him.

"I thought you were a big ladies man in your time. Too embarrassed for wanting a piece of this?" Clint gave a seductively mocking eyebrow waggle while pointing from his toes to his head and back again.

Steve wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking everywhere but where Clint was standing. "N-no," he squeaked, taking a small step forward and towards the Hawk.

Clint smiled, walking all the way to Steve before throwing his arms around the Captain. "Then show me what you can do, Captain," Clint purred into the other's ear before reaching a hand down to give that cute butt a little pinch.

The Captain jumped a little from the pinch before letting a devious smirk creep upon his own pink lips.

"You asked for it, Hawk," Steve whispered back into Clint's ear, putting a little extra emphasis on the 'k' to blow warm air into the shell of the other's ear.

In a matter of moments, Clint's black jumpsuit was slowly becoming unzipped, lips dancing down his skin and leaving small red marks where his pulse had been sucked. Fingers began to wander and trace down the contours of muscle and bones. Soft moans of protest from Clint being difficult escaped from his sullen pink lips, but were quickly captured into the Captain's own mouth.

Somewhere along the way, both began to wonder what would come of this. Would things be awkward, or would this little 'accident' lead to more? Those thoughts were lost quickly to the pleasure of the moment, but there was one thing that they were sure of… A few people were going to be late for dinner.