I don't own anything other than Alex!
A/N – Just a little one shot that came to me at 3 AM dedicated to my cousin because she's awesome
Clint Barton was never one for sentiment in fact one night stands were kind of his forte. Its not that he liked getting around but with the job description came limited attachment. So there it was…the feeling of being a presence in someone's life sexually without unnecessary companionship that could lead to the other being a target so no…sentiment was out of the question and I know what your thinking…your thinking this is where the story starts; Clint Barton finding sentiment and that's not true…well, not at first at least. This story actually starts with Clint Barton' one nightstand. I wont go into details on how they met or what happened afterwards but by the end of the night the dark haired man pulled away from Clint's bed. "So…thanks? Is that what your supposed to say?" the man said slightly awkward. Clint chuckled "thanks works" the other man smiled slightly leaving for the door before stopping "I never got your name…or is that uncalled for?" Clint gives a smile and thinks for a second. He just got off a mission was there any need to use a fake name "I'm Clint" he answered making the decision. The man blinked slightly taken aback "Alex" he answered back.
FLASH BACK
"Where switching again aren't we?" Clint asked surprisingly blunt for twelve years old. Barney didn't look up from the book he was reading "what?" he asked not really paying attention. "Foster homes Clint clarified were moving again" this time it was a statement. Barney dose look up this time slowly nodding "next week"
"Here we are I'm sure you boys will like it here" a tall blonde woman with glasses said in a squeaky voice. "Feel free to look around" it was three days before anyone his own age had a full conversation with Clint. "What are you?" a guy he had seen a few times asked leaning on the doorway "excuse me?" Clint asked. "Normal people don't get transferred here," he explains. Clint raised an eyebrow in speculation. "Meaning?" he asks. A shrill voice is overheard "ALEXANDER WHERE ARE YOU!" The teen Clint was now assuming played the roll of Alexander took his hand come on he said with an urgency that willed Clint to follow him out of the room and start to run. They reached the main hall Alex proceeded to pull a lever on the celling down opening up the attic. "The way" he urged. Clint scoffed "last time I checked I'm not the Goonies" they hear more screaming and Clint rolls his eyes climbing up before the latch closes. The noise quiets and Alex grins I'm Alex if it wasn't obvious" Clint can't help but grin shaking his hand "Clint"
PRESENT
"Well uh this is awkward" Clint states. "It's been what 10 years?" Alex nods "bout that yeah" there's a silence and Alex finally breaks it "well I'm not one for goodbyes so…" Clint nods understanding "see ya" and Alex turns away Clint pipes up "Al?" the other nods "Thanks" and that was it another one nightstand that went a little on the soap-opera side. That was it, that was all. That was all it would ever be. Except for the fact that it wasn't.
"Barton" Coulson's voice crackled on the other end of the line "we need you to come in" it had been a year since he had last seen Alex and Clint to be honest was mostly unfazed. Not that it posed much of an effect on him in the first place. "What is it this time Phil" Clint groans childishly. "Stolen Intel. And stop calling me that" Clint rolls his eyes "sorry SIR" Coulson nods a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "As you know Natasha's in Berlin for the month so we got you a new partner for this assignment you missed de-brief so he will gives you the details on the quinjett to Morocco"
Clint took about fifty minutes to pack before heading to the Quinnjett. Standing in the cockpit sharpening a samurai sword was "speak of the devil" Clint mutters with a smile taking in the sight of the man he looked taller in his suit more focused maybe? "Cant seem to shake you can I?" he asks smirking at the archer. "Nope Clint agrees taking a seat in the pilots chair.
It was a standard mission; Alex hacked into the Mainframe while Clint raised hell. Both were doing what was second nature to them. Simple black and what mission, that's all it was…that's all it was going to be. Except when it wasn't.
The getting in part went fine. Having a man who can destroy molecular structures and control anything with electricity from earth to the end of the nearest galaxy helped in situations like this. Remember about four paragraphs ago when Alex said normal people didn't get sent to that foster home…well there you go. The raising hell bit lacked when trained assassins decided to join the party against S.H.I.E.L.D.'s own trained assassin. Lets just say things didn't go well…sure S.H.I.E.L.D got its Intel back and everyone came out alive. But some more than others.
Alex stood pacing in the lobby of the S.H.I.L.D Hospice facility. Currently feeling fear creep inside him. A woman with a deep red hair color steps beside him. "Doctors say he'll pull through" she informed, "He's going to have to stay here for a week of physical therapy. No visitor." She says. Alex nods at this "thank you Natasha" she gives him a small sad smile putting a hand on his shoulder "you didn't come out unsaved…rest I'll let you know if anything happens" she assures him. He nods hesitantly, thanking her and leaving. She sighs watching him go and mutters to herself with a small smile "Barton…why do I feel like I'm meeting your future boyfriend"
By the time Clint was out of the hospital and home to his apartment Natasha was already there. They ended up spending most of the day together just enjoying each other's company. Alex not being able to get there till late showed up to find Natasha had already left. Clint opened the door to Alex giving him a hard slap across the face. "YOU IDIOT" Alex snapped, "You could of died back there!" If Alex had any plans of continuing his rant it was cut short by Clint's lips on his own. And soon that became a tradition of sorts, that every time a mission ends they would find each other and have a one-night stand except for the fact that they would see each other the next day. It became one of the only things in their sick twisted lives that could be relied upon to happen. It was calming for them in a sense. Something that was trusted to happen…it was really their way of pushing down deeper feelings, both were aware of this but neither would ever comment…so they stuck to it.
Another hour, day, week, month, year the days meshed together in a string of erratic heart monitor beats and test tubes but it was survivable…no one knew that better than Clint. But super villains brain washing your brother to kill you and narrowly escaping made it seem less…survivable.
Alex nocked on the door t continue the tradition before opening it slowly "Hey" he says smiling but it soon falls when he sees a sniffling Clint on the bed the rest of the room encased in darkness. "Clint?" he asked quietly walking closer. Clint refused to look his way and Alex knew better then to force Clint into a Dr. Phil moment so he sat next to him on the bed wrapping his arms around the archers torso pulling him onto the bed stroking his hair whispering about how there was nothing he could do and how they would get him back. But Clint Barton would never admit to enjoying being held in such a manner with such circumstances because Clint Barton didn't do sentiment and he definitely didn't do love. It was a long string of one-night stands that was it, that was all. That was all it would ever be. Except for the fact that it wasn't.