Chapter 2- Stubborn Archers


Nobody knew better than Steve Rogers how stubborn Clint Barton could be. They had been dating for over a year and it was the only thing that they had argued over. Particularly when Clint sustained an injury. His refusal to treat himself was a big issue in their relationship.

It was simply a sparring injury. For some reason, Clint had chosen to spar with Thor of all people. In only a few minutes, the God had flattened him against the floor, pressing all of his weight onto the archer. Clint had asked Thor to go all out and not relent, so Steve couldn't actually blame Thor in any plausible way. Natasha had warned Clint many times about the dangers of fighting Thor. Even Black Widow herself had come close to losing the battle. Thor was a natural fighter, even without Mjolnir by his side. It was almost frightening watching him battle. Steve had made sure to watch, to step in if it got out of hand. Without the shield, of course. This wasn't war.

Clint had decided on an evasive manoeuvre, planning to make Thor tired and lose focus. Sadly, Clint underestimated the cognitive functions of an actual god. Thor was bright and sharp, even after twenty minutes of chasing Clint around and taking a few minor bangs to the head. Steve knew it was futile; Clint would lose eventually. He was silently and verbally rooting for his boyfriend, partly to try and inspire him and maybe discourage Thor a little bit, but none of it worked. Clint was distracted, too aware that Steve was watching. Their fights were even; sometimes Steve won and sometimes Clint did. They were quite well-matched in terms of strategy and Clint figured it was downright emasculating to have your boyfriend see you get trounced by a man who was bigger and more attractive than you were.

Clint chose the wrong moment to glance at Steve, who was watching with bated breath. Thor landed a hit which sent Clint to the floor, landing on his right arm in an awkward way.

A cry of pain alerted Steve to the situation. He was there like a...well, like an arrow. Direct, speedy and only one target in mind.

"Clint!"

Clint hissed uncomfortably. "I'm okay, Steve. I'm okay."

Thor bit his lip awkwardly and sighed. "Apologies, my friend. I do not always remember that I'm battling with humans. I can become preoccupied."

"Don't worry about it, Thor. I kept going and I didn't have to," Clint tried to smile, but the pain had overcome him.

"No. You didn't," Steve said sternly. "You went and got yourself hurt instead."

"Steve, I'm fine." It was clear to everyone that he wasn't.

Thor shook his head quickly. "Eye of Hawk, your arm is most likely broken. I cannot be sure without a closer look, but you should go and see Banner just to be safe."

"I don't need Bruce, I'll just go and get Nat to put it back into place."

Steve was furious. Seeing Clint in any sort of pain was not something he was accustomed to and it hurt like a bitch, even though Steve wasn't the one with an injury. "You absolutely will not. Part of being my boyfriend is getting medical attention when you require it."

"The boyfriend card? Really?" Clint groaned as Steve lifted him easily and carried him to the medical wing of the floor. There was one stationed on every floor, Tony had made sure of that when the first new occupant had moved in. It was a long story involving Natasha, Clint and a radio. Steve didn't even want to think about it. When Clint had told him the story, it had been too much to give a second thought.

"I was going to lure you to medical with the promise of tapping this tonight but I felt that was inappropriate giving present company." Steve planted a quick kiss on Clint's forehead.

Thor chuckled. "Worry not about me, friends. Sex is a common construct on Asgard. We have sex with whomever we feel like. It can happen whenever or wherever we are at the moment, as long as the parties all consent."

"All?"

"It is not limited to just two people, Agent Barton." Thor winked, leaving them in the medical wing, alone.

"Ah." Clint nodded slowly, wondering whether he wanted to hear more. It was almost like Steve was reading his mind.

"I think that's all we need to hear about that, actually."

"Where's Nat? Jarvis?" Clint spoke loudly to the AI.

Steve had an idea. "Jarvis, if you tell Clint where Nat is, I'll bring Peter back for you to talk to."

Jarvis whirred to life suddenly. "Uh…sorry Agent Barton. I didn't even think that an A.I could get a headache, but Mr. Parker talks more than Mr. Stark does."

"Good play, Rogers," Clint grunted.

He grinned smugly in response. "You should know that I take the wellbeing of my boyfriend very seriously. Jarvis, if you could let Bruce know that we need him."

"Of course, Captain Rogers, right away."

"Why does he listen to you?" Clint asked exasperatedly.

Steve shrugged, grinning. "What can I say, I'm lovable."

Clint laughed, wincing as he did.

"See why you should know your limits? You're hurt." Steve cradled Clint's face lovingly.

"It's not like I haven't been injured training before! Nat breaks at least one of my bones on a regular basis."

"No she doesn't! You're making that up so you can get yourself of the hook."

"You caught me," Clint murmured, rolling his eyes, ignoring the throbbing pain in his chest and head.

"So someone's been trampled by an Asgardian, I believe?" Bruce smirked as he entered the medical wing.

"I'm fine!"

"He's not."

"Am too."

"Children, please. Bickering isn't going to help anyone. Now, what exactly happened?"

Steve recounted the story as quickly as possible, ignoring Clint's attempts to intervene.

"I see. This isn't the first time I've had to deal with an injury caused by Thor."

Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Don't tell her I said this, but Nat tried the exact same thing a while back. Thor flattened her. She demanded a rematch and won, though. Got right back up with three broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder. And won."

Clint grunted. "Great, so it's just me who's a huge failure at life and everything else."

"Honey, stop being melodramatic," Steve rolled his eyes. "You're a wonderful fighter, you know that. With your bow, you could beat anybody any time of the day."

Clint swatted Steve's arm, wincing at the pain that stabbed through his own.

Bruce clicked his tongue. "You guys are adorable. I feel the sudden need to vomit all over myself."

Clint groaned. "Can you fix me, Doc? I need to be at full strength if I'm going to beat Steve's ass for making me go through this."

Bruce winced. "I'm going to need you to not mention beating Steve's ass for the rest of your life."

Steve looked aghast, turning a violent shade of red. "How does the arm look, Dr. Banner?"

Bruce smiled. "It's going to be fine. As long as you don't use your bow or do anything too strenuous with your arm for about a week, maybe two, you should be in perfect condition."

Clint sent a smirk in Steve's direction. "I think Steve can take excellent care of me until I'm better."

Steve snorted. "So now you're following medical advice? There's a first."

Clint sighed. "Well, I suppose if it's going to make me better, it can't be too bad, now can it? Besides, it gives you an excuse to wait on me for twenty four hours a day until I'm fully healed. Otherwise, I might just ruin my recovery doing something too strenuous. Will you be there for me Steve? Will you help me?"

"I hate you."

Steve glared daggers at him the whole time they walked up to Clint's floor.

The things he had to promise in order for Clint to let Bruce do his stuff were things that Steve never thought he'd ever sign up for before dating Clint. All day every day service, bringing Clint food and drinks, playing games with him and dressing and undressing him every day. Sometimes, Clint would request an outfit change merely minutes after changing just to "give Steve something to do". Steve also had to help Clint in the shower. Having one arm really limited was Clint was able to do.

As Clint smirked at him, naked in the shower, Steve supposed that looking after Clint all the time wasn't too bad…