"Words On My Arm"
Clint heard heavy grunts before he even saw the famous Captain America.
Or, in his training gear, and with frustration singing through his body language, Steve Rogers. Man out of time. Super soldier. Superhero. Super tall. (And buff.)
Clint studied the man's stance as he rounded him. Rogers was pummelling the hell out of a punching bag, at first slowly, rhythmically, and then with more speed and anger. With a crash the chain gave and the bag soared across the room, leaving a trail of sand. It was impressive, and Clint realised that he was staring at the way the white shirt clung to every upper body muscle.
He walked forward, and Rogers turned swiftly to face him. Clint smiled, trying to relax the man. It seemed to work, as some of the tension drained out. Rogers then glanced at the punching bag, winced, and looked back to Clint. He rubbed the back of his neck, and gave him a sheepish smile. He shrugged.
"You gonna help me hide the body?" he joked.
Time stopped for Clint Barton.
Things went wrong in circuses. He knew that, and was okay when Barney dragged him into it. With every new recruit, or anyone who'd never spoken to Clint, he waited for something to happen, for an animal or person to die. Something which would need to be covered up. He was fine with that, as long as he met the one person whose first words to him would match those etched on his arm.
He squeezed his fist, and wrapped his right hand around his left lower arm. That's where they were. Everyone's words – the one indication of who their soulmate was supposed to be – were located somewhere on their body. The location was always related to their life's work. In Clint's case, he was just glad the words didn't appear around his eyes. It was much easier to hide the macabre question beneath an arm band.
Rogers was obviously waiting for an answer. He followed Clint's sudden movement, probably connecting the dots pretty quickly. It couldn't be. Clint's soulmate wasn't Captain America. It was just a coincidence. In an attempt to distract them both, he looked around for a source of inspiration. Something to talk about. He noticed the ruined gym equipment.
"Another punching bag, another casualty of war?" he asked. As soon as he said it, he wished he could take back the words. Could he be more tactless? Mentally, Rogers had lost friends in World War II only a couple of months ago…
But the man was staring at him, lips parted. He seemed frozen to the spot. Clint could understand the feeling.
With a swift movement, Rogers tore off his own arm band, from his right arm. Clint's gaze automatically moved to it. His hawk-like vision read the captain's soulmate words.
'Another punching bag, another casualty of war?'
He couldn't breathe. His right hand fumbled, and then he was yanking off his arm band, walking forward without thinking. Rogers met him halfway, and traced a thumb over the words, the question he'd asked Clint. His breathing was ragged.
"It's you," Clint said. He dragged his gaze up to meet… well, he'd better call him Steve, seeing as how they were soulmates. Soulmates.
Finally.
"I thought I had to go to war to find my soulmate," Steve said hoarsely. Again, Clint could relate. "I wanted to join up anyway, but I think that'd always been part of it."
"Instead, we met in a gym in the twenty-first century," Clint said. He stroked the soft skin on Steve's right arm. "Better than when I was a mercenary. Never found my soulmate then, either. Thought if I was gonna, after the circus, that'd be it. Then SHIELD. Then…"
"Here we are," Steve said. Clint huffed a small laugh. Steve cupped his cheek, leaned in, and kissed Clint. It didn't last long, but it didn't have to. It made Clint believe. It made him believe, for a second, that things would be okay.
"You're giving me hope," he confessed. He noticed a small smirk at the corner of his soulmate's mouth.
"I'll give you a lot more than that, sweetheart," he said, voice half an octave lower. Clint swallowed.
"That a promise or a challenge?" he asked, voice breaking.
"Come find out," Steve said. He took a step back, then another, in the direction of the showers. He held out his hand in a clear invitation.
"I'm s'posed to take you to HQ," Clint said. "Got other things to do…"
Steve tilted his head. "More important than bonding with your soulmate?" he said.
"…Good point," Clint said. Then he walked forward and slid his hand into Steve's, and laced their fingers together. He allowed himself to be dragged away.
SHIELD could wait a little longer. Clint had waited his whole life.
"By the way," he said. "My name's Clint Barton."
"I guess I need to know, if you're gonna make me scream it in a couple of minutes," Steve quipped.
For a prompt on the Avengers kink meme, page 53 of round 24. The premise was a soulmate AU where the first words your soulmate says to you are written on your body. Clint's are 'Oh shit. You gotta help me hide the body'. I changed it, obviously, because I had this picture in my head of Steve breaking a punching bag, and jokingly asking Clint to help him 'hide the body'. Clearly non-canon from the gym scene in 'The Avengers'. Meh.
Hope you liked it, anyhow. Please review! Just a mini-fill, I know, but I couldn't resist, and the OP liked it.