Prompt by rainbow-paperclips and zombieecho because I boast too much about my amazingness (no not really)

Prompt: Clint Barton / Bruce Banner + Banana (jesus christ people, thanks *dripping in sarcasm*

If it wasn't the killer robot/megalomaniac/alien of destruction of the week deciding that Avengers Tower was on their "Must Destroy List" (and when were they going to learn anyway? How many times and how many villains needed to be thwarted in that venture before they dropped it completely? Then again, villains weren't generally known for their common sense, were they?), it was Tony's experiments, or Thor's life-long learning about Midgard, or his own experiments, or the Other Guy getting out, etc.

In short, if they went a week without having to renovate something, they started to get suspicious. A month and it was a surefire of the Apocalypse.

Life in the Avengers Tower could be… interesting. And Bruce Banner had lived most of his life trying to get away from "interesting" things. But if he had to take a guess as to why the Avengers were still up and running, he'd say that they were all weirdos and weirdos-magnets who were compulsively attracted to each other's weirdness. After all, he hadn't been lying about them being a time-bomb, but apparently, if hangled with care and with the right safe-passes, even a time-bomb could be delayed indefinitely.

But anyway, Bruce mused as he entered the common kitchen, all things considered, things could have turned out so much worse.

The scientist stopped in his track, snapping out of his daydreaming as he took in the scene in front of him. Clint "Hawkeye" Barton was sitting on the other side of the counter, bare chest, a pair of earplugs in his ears and seemed to be… enjoying, a banana. Bruce drank in the image the other man gave, eyes closed in concentration as he swayed slightly to his music, his lips round around the banana. He nearly let out a moan and had to cram a fish between his teeth to stop himself, when the agent (who had about 3/4 of the thing down his throat) swallowed around it. But his movement seemed to be enough for the agent to realize he was there. Clint opened his eyes wide and clamped his jaw around the banana cutting it and choking on it as it went down his throat, making Bruce wince slightly in embarrassed sympathy.

Banner gave the other man a few minutes to collect himself from his near death experience, going about the kitchen fixing himself a tea and grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge for Clint.

"uh… Hi Doc!" The agent chirped innocently, trying to pass off the whole thing as if it never happened.

"Clint" Bruce answered with a nod, putting the bottle in from of the man and resisting the urge to smirk evily. "So. Good banana, eh?"

Hawkeye turned ten shades of red before looking down in the pretense of grabbing the bottle and drinking it.

Bruce's eyes trailed down his throat before being attracted to something laying on the floor. Clint's shirt was sitting in a pile, near his bar stool. Why would he take it off like that? The fresh smell of bodysoap wafting gently off the man told him that he wasn't just coming back from the gym (thanks Other Guy for the wonderful addition of heightened senses which could be awkward, especially when the main heightened sense was smell and reacted particularly violently to blood. But hey, life, bitch, same). Looking back and forth between the shirt and Clint, who was now giving him a tentatively flirty smile, Bruce blinked and raised an eyebrow.

Hiding his smirk behind his tea mug, he stood back up and turned to leave.

"Well, I have to go back to my experiments. But you know, if you ever need help with those bananas, call me." He threw behind his shoulder, smiling triumphally when a choked breath answered him.

Yep, all attracted to each others' weirdness, all right. Some more than others, it seemed.

-The End