a/n: So this is in the same 'verse as An Unexpected Meeting, but so far they share no similarities. That's only going to be relevant if I continue to write things in this 'verse, since it'll most likely be brought up again. Happy reading!
17. Seduction
It was supposed to be a simple mission, and Clint would stand by that until his dying day.
Bruce Wayne was throwing a gala, as per usual. Kate was unimpressed by the flashy invitation she received in the mail, too used to the billionaire's flair to get worked up. Clint was even less impressed than Kate because he hated going to any event that required a tie, and especially hated when he had to go for work. Unfortunately, S.H.I.E.L.D. had decided that Kate's invitation had provided them with the perfect way to infiltrate the gala; Clint was, of course, the lucky operative that got to provide some back up for his fellow Hawkeye. He had tried to trade out with Natasha, since she would be in the Slovak region for the next two weeks for some kind of crime ring and he could totally get behind that, but Nat was unwilling to get anywhere near Bruce Wayne if she didn't absolutely have to.
"All you have to do is play wingman," Kate told him, completely exasperated. "Actually, you don't even have to be near me at all. You just have to be nearby, so when this event ends in fiery doom—which it won't—I'll have backup."
"I don't even get why this is a thing," Clint grumped, although he was already planning to swing by for a rental tux. "The man's as rich as Stark. Surely he can buy his own goddamn security."
"Someone found a connection between Wayne and Stark," Kate informed him, although he already knew that and she knew that he did. Damn her logic. "So basically it's not just Gotham that's out to get him this time, and S.H.I.E.L.D. feels like he high enough on the food chain to protect." She rolled her eyes at her partner's melodrama. "Come on, how often does Wayne turn down a pretty woman? All I have to do is pretend to be interested, then get far enough away from the gala to dump him. Likewise, all you have to do is stand there and look normal, just in case something goes incredibly wrong."
Clint sighed. He could deal with that. Plus, it was a well-known fact that Wayne had the best hors d'oeuvres at his parties. If all else failed, at least the snacks would be awesome.
Six hours later had Clint seriously regretting his agreement to take any part in this mission. It turned out that Bruce Wayne, while being a shallow, flirty asshole, was incredibly hard to get close to. He floated around the party like he was actively avoiding Kate, and Clint could see her frustration building from his place at the dessert table. He was tempted to help her, but she kept throwing him little warning glances, so he kept to his corner and tried not to look like he was enjoying Kate's obvious failure too much. Sure, it would be horrible if someone did manage to kidnap their target, but the party looked pretty calm and Kate's one-sided game of tag with one of the richest men on the planet was pretty damn funny.
That could be the champagne talking.
And honestly, Clint hadn't even meant to drink that much. He was a professional, goddamnit, and he knew secret agent etiquette, but this party was boring. After the first hour, Kate had paused in her chase and handed him a flute of alcohol, so Clint had taken that as the green light. He could still function if he really needed to, and missions had gone downhill faster than this when he was sober, so it wasn't too much of a risk. His partner didn't even look concerned, despite the fact that she'd insisted that they had to lure Wayne away, so Clint took that as a positive sign.
"I see you're enjoying the selection."
Clint almost flinched at the bright, fake cheer in the tone, but managed to compose himself as he turned. He couldn't quite stop his jaw from dropping, though.
How the fuck had Kate chased Wayne around all night, only for him to end up beside Clint instead?
Oh God, he's into men.
Convinced that this was a sign, Clint hurriedly closed his mouth and attempted to brace himself on the dessert table in that attractive way that was so often portrayed on magazine covers. Wayne's friendly expression didn't change, and Clint mentally fist-pumped. Kate could be seen over Wayne's shoulder, frantically waving her hands and shaking her head, but Clint didn't need any tips. He knew how to properly seduce someone.
Granted, he'd never tried to seduce a man before, but it couldn't be that different, right?
"Hey, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" Shit.
To his credit, Wayne just blinked, then gave a loud laugh. "You okay there, tiger?"
Ooh, tiger, that was good. Clint leaned in slightly, trying to remember the importance of body language, but he only managed to sway a bit before placing his hand in a plate of truffle.
"Clint." Clint jumped badly, then coughed a bit to cover it. He narrowed his eyes at Wayne's shoulder, trying to subtly show Kate he didn't appreciate her sudden hiss. She was still across the room, and it took a full minute to realize that his partner was tugging at her ear to draw his attention to her comm.
Oh yeah.
"Mr. Wayne," and fuck yeah, Clint had the best sex voice ever, "where's your date? Surely you aren't here alone."
"Well, it is my gala," Wayne returned. "And please, call me Brucie."
Brucie. Clint had completely skipped first name basis and officially gone to nicknames. Fuck. Yes.
"My name's Kate," Clint told him smoothly. Then paused. "Shit. Clint. Not Kate."
Brucie nodded along, placing an understanding hand on Clint's shoulder. Clint was sure that things like this happened all the time.
"Clint," he repeated, and Clint suddenly realized that he probably should have lied about his name. "Does that come with a last name?"
"I seem to have lost mine," Clint said, only stuttering a little over the awkward line. He blamed it on the long, loud groan that suddenly sounded in his ear. "Can I have yours?"
Brucie's eyebrows inched up subtly, but Clint was too distracted to really notice.
"Really Clint?" Kate hissed. "Really? You're going to go with that line?"
"Shut up Kate!" Clint snapped, his voice normal. Why the hell did Kate keep whispering at him?
"I… Excuse me?" Brucie's smile had dimmed, and Clint suddenly realized that that was a very bad sign.
"Oh, I wasn't talking to you." Brucie gave the dessert table a deliberate once-over, which Clint thought was rather unnecessary. It was incredibly clear that they were alone. "So want to get out of here?"
The billionaire gave Clint a confused, cautious glance that the agent couldn't quite determine. Kate's loud laughter probably had something to do with it.
"Kate, I'm working here!" He raged. Brucie took a slow step backward, and Clint automatically reached out to grasp his bicep.
"Where are you going?" Clint pouted. Then tightened his hand experimentally. "God, you have really good biceps. Jesus."
"Clint, you sound like a teenage girl."
"I am a sexy man," Clint snapped at his partner.
"Uh," Brucie said, extracting his bicep from Clint's steel grip.
"Wow, the room is spinning. Did you pay extra for that?" Then Clint promptly fainted.
When Clint woke up the next morning, it was to a breakfast tray and a grinning Kate.
"Urgh," Clint told her eloquently.
"Well, you got Bruce out of the gala," Kate said, sipping his orange juice. "And in the nick of time too. Nightwing crashed through the window right after you left, battling some assassins." She picked up a piece of toast and nibbled on it.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Clint growled, his voice thick and gravelly for some reason. He coughed, then made a face at the taste in his mouth.
"Yeah, our presence was completely unnecessary. But hey, I think you have a real shot at winning ol' Brucie's heart! He put us up for the night and everything."
Clint attempted to lift himself up, then just flopped back on the insanely fluffy pillows with a pitiful groan. Kate helpfully placed a bit of toast in his mouth before settling back with him.
"What happened?" The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent mumbled around the toast.
"Well, for starters, you epically failed at seducing Bruce Wayne. Although, the media did get wind of it, so the poor guy had to play up the romance as he carried your pathetic, unconscious ass out of his gala. Tony's already called three times, but he hasn't been able to get anything out beyond the obnoxious laughter."
"Urghhhhh," Clint groaned, eyes clenched shut, then opened his mouth for another piece of toast.
"Then Bruce's really-awesome-yet-kind-of-creepy butler took care of you and gave us rooms for the night." Kate obliged, placing another crunchy bite on his tongue. "Also, future reference, don't drink things that I hand to you on the job. Why the fuck would I give you alcohol when we're undercover? Someone spiked one of Bruce's drinks, you idiot. I swiped it and handed it to you so that we could test it."
That explained the weird taste, at least.
Because Clint's suffering knew no bounds, Bruce picked that moment to push open the door.
"Hey, tiger," he said, no small amount of humor in his voice. "How are we feeling? You had a pretty rough night last night." The obnoxious wink and dirty smile made Clint bury his head in the pillows again. Kate laughed so hard that the bed shook.
end notes: So I know that Bruce is OOC, but I like to think that Bruce would be way more playful as his daytime persona to kind of even out the darkness of Batman. Also, since Kate and Clint are both Hawkeye, I made them both agents of SHIELD too, because movie Avengers Clint does. The whole point of this was that someone found a link between Tony and Bruce, so they were going to try to threaten Bruce to get to Tony, and SHIELD felt the need to step in. It doesn't make a bunch of sense, but I needed a reason for both Kate and Clint to be at the gala. Given Clint's aversion to black tie events, I figured that work could be a valid reason.
I hope you guys liked it! I had a ton of fun writing it.