The morning sun rose and barely lit the living room from the tiny window in the kitchen. Natasha came out of the bedroom with her hair mused and wearing Clint's shorts and undershirt. She looked down on the men sleeping through the dim light and smiled. She smiled at Clint really, at his slack face dripping drool onto his arm. Loki slept with his arms around his face as well, like he was blocking a punch. And speaking of which-
"Rise and shine, boys," she said evenly.
Clint woke up with just her word, as if waiting for it the whole time. Loki awoke at Clint's voice instead.
"Hmm? What's going on now?" He rubbed sleep from his eyes and yawned.
"It's time to hit the gym- you've been out of it too long. Even though you're grounded, you need to be ready to get back in the game at any time."
Loki sat up and glared at her blearily as she turned away to change in the bedroom. Clint groaned and looked over at the god.
"Can you believe this? Comes over for a movie night and then expects me to sweat my ass off the next morning."
"She sounds like Thor," Loki confided and flipped the blanket off his legs, sweeping into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
Clint chuckled at the comparison and got up as well, heading into his bedroom and entering without knocking. He caught a glimpse of the bottom of Natasha's breasts as she pulled her shirt on and passed her by to get his own clothes. She stayed in the room while he changed, sitting on the end of the bed.
"You're sleeping better," she noticed.
"Yep," Clint tugged a shirt over his head, "started when I went camping."
"When Loki showed up."
He had been pulling on his jeans and stopped mid-thigh, squinting his eyes at the back of her head. "Does that matter?"
"I don't know," she muttered. "Does it?" She looked over her shoulder at him calmly but pointedly. Clint pulled his pants on all the way and played it off as he buttoned them up.
"You think you know something, but there's nothing to know," he said and then stood fully dressed and watching her. She looked back and then nodded, getting up.
"Okay." And she left the room.
Clint watched her go with nervousness, though he wasn't sure why he should be. Natasha had tried to get him to spill some kind of telling information about he and Loki, but as he'd said, there was nothing to tell. But when he'd said it, he felt slightly like he was lying. He knocked on the bathroom door and entered when given permission by the god still occupying it. Loki was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt when he entered and grabbed his toothbrush, slathering it with toothpaste and shoving it in his mouth. He brushed with jerky movements, keeping his eyes away from the mirror.
"You seem agitated."
The archer huffed through his brushing and spit and rinsed, drying his mouth on a hand towel.
"Don't worry about it," he snipped and left the bathroom.
Clint and Loki rode the bike to headquarters, Natasha taking her car and leading the way. When they parked in the garage and met at the elevator, Clint voiced his concerns about Loki in the gym.
"I just think everyone's gonna start wiggin' out- gym's kind of a personal place for a lot of people. It's hard to keep an eye on him when we're sparring, what if someone starts losing their shit?"
Natasha stepped into the elevator first and stood in the corner while the others filed in behind her. "That's why we're here now. The only time the gym is empty is during chow. Nobody misses chow."
Clint snorted and shook his head. "Okay, whatever you say."
They didn't have to wait long in the elevator, but it was enough time for Clint to remember he and Loki had been in this same place just yesterday, where'd they been about to tear each other apart. He looked up at Loki's face, finding a scab on the edge of his lip where his fist had connected with it. Loki seemed to have had the same thoughts as he looked down at him as well, and he smirked.
"Do we need to fight again before we reach our destination?"
Clint chuckled. "No, I think we're okay."
Loki chuckled as well and nodded, exiting the elevator when it dinged and opened it's doors automatically.
Natasha had been right, of course, the gym was empty but for one guy on a treadmill, headphones on and not even noticing their presence. Clint took Loki into the locker room with him while Natasha went to change in the women's. He led the way to his locker, to the drawn-on arrows of his number, and he groaned as he opened the locker and pulled out his sweatpants. Loki stood, a little dumbfounded as he watched the archer shuck off his pants and step into his sweats. He'd seen Clint in this state of undress before, while living in the forest that week, and sometimes in the mornings when he declined to get dressed right away. But the thick and damp air of the lockers, the scent of fresh sweat, made Loki glance away from the sight of Clint's bare back. He turned to to stare down at the lockers until the heat in his cheeks faded away. He followed dutifully behind the archer when he was ready, trying to keep his gaze on his feet rather than the naked arms ahead of him.
Natasha was waiting for them on the mats, wrapping her knuckles with black fabric. Clint snickered when he saw her and stood beside her to stretch. He'd pointed Loki to the edge of the mats where there was a bench to wait. The agents sat together and leaned forward in tandem to touch their toes.
"You and those booty-shorts," Clint said with a smile. "You tease every guy here with those, you know."
"It's a distraction technique," she told him, and they got up to raise their arms up and down, holding them straight against their chests, twisting around their own bodies. "They're more likely to make mistakes when they're trying to get a glimpse of some ass. You know that."
"Oh, I know, it just makes me laugh every time anyways."
They took deep breaths and took a few steps away from each other, getting their final stretches in and psyching themselves up for a fight. Clint readied himself into a stance, legs bent and fists up, waiting. Natasha stood like she was unaware of the situation, completely vulnerable to attack. But Clint knew this was her style- she preferred to look unassuming, it was how she took people down.
She stared him down, breathing evenly and slowly, and he glared at her, squeezing his fists harder as she unnerved him. Loki scrutinized their poses and was also unnerved by Natasha's nonchalance, especially when she started to sway side to side with a pretty smile, like she could hear some sweet love song no one else could.
She sprung with a kick that Clint blocked with a grab of her ankle and jabbed his fist in the back of her knee to bend her to the mat. She caught herself with both hands above her head and shoved her other foot into his chest to kick off him and flip away. Clint grunted and staggered back a step to ready himself again just as she lunged at him with a fist held back for a punch. He twisted to ram his shoulder into the hit and dug his elbow into her ribs, making her double over but brace herself on the floor again to raise a kick between his legs. The pain shooting through Clint's groin made him gasp and fall to his knees on the mat. He knew he should try to retaliate, the fight wasn't over, but he groaned low in his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut anyways, reaching to cup himself and will the pain away. Natasha panted and scooted out from between his legs, letting the archer recover.
"Dick move, Nat," he hissed and lightly squeezed himself, testing if he was okay to get up again. "You know other guys don't usually do the groin shot."
"I'm not your usual guy," she quipped and got up. "Ready to go again?"
Clint blew out his cheeks in a big exhale, steeling himself for another round. He rose shakily and shook himself, getting into his stance again. They both quieted their panting as they waited for an opening, starting to circle each other like animals.
"You realize," Loki piped up from his seat on the bench, "he will pull no punches now."
Natasha quirked her lips in a sneer, hoping for just what Loki had said.
"He will destroy you, little spider."
She flickered her eyes towards the god and Clint surged forward to punch the side of her chest, bending the wire of her bra under her shirt into her ribs. She retaliated with an elbow against his cheek, but Clint kept up his movements, hooking one leg around the back of her knee again and sending her to the floor, but her knees didn't even hit the mat before she braced herself against it and knocked the archer back with both feet to his hips. He stumbled and Natasha used this moment to rise and get a running jump and wrap her legs around his head. Clint's face jammed into her crotch and he stumbled again and fell to his knees as she adjusted her position and strangled him with her pubic bone crushed against his windpipe. Clint grabbed her ass in one hand as he struggled against her, pushing himself forward to slam her onto her back and shove the air out of her. She kept her strangle-hold on him through it, even going so far as to jerk her legs and crack his neck a little. Clint groaned and started to get lightheaded, knowing he would be unconscious soon if he didn't try to get her off him. He found that he didn't really know what to do, and settled for trying to struggle out of the chokehold, reaching to dig his nails into her sides and scrape them down, bringing them back up to do it again and again. Natasha arched her back to push her bones further into his throat and Clint reached behind her to grip the strap of her bra. He found a dagger sheathed under it and whipped it out in a last ditch for his consciousness. He jabbed the tip of the knife against her soft sides just over her kidney, making her freeze up. She released the muscles in her thighs and Clint heaved a ragged gasp into his lungs as he pulled his head away from her crotch. He pushed her legs down around him and sat up, tossing the dagger down onto the mat beside her.
"Really?" He panted with disbelief and she merely shrugged and continued to lie on the mat with her legs wrapped loosely around his hips. He'd never been on the receiving end of her chokehold and he understood then why the victim just took it. Your life was being choked out of you by a woman's crotch, the woman being attractive but scary enough that it looked as though she was going to eat you alive.
The redhead grabbed the knife as she got up and sheathed it in the back of her bra again. "Keeps you on your toes, doesn't it? I thought you were going to let me knock you out."
"I almost did! Ugh, I gotta take a break- that's too much." He started to walk away to sit next to Loki, who had watched with fearful fascination.
"Why don't you spar with him instead?" Natasha suggested and walked past Clint to the bench.
Loki jerked his head up with wide eyes. Clint stopped short and chuckled nervously.
"Uh, I don't think so."
"Well, if you don't think you can beat him..." Natasha trailed off with a teasing tone.
"I'm not falling for that 'questioning my masculinity' thing- I can beat him, but I don't want to fight him."
She watched him carefully, the gears turning behind her eyes, and Clint was wary of it.
"I would agree that under these circumstances Agent Barton can easily defeat me," Loki offered to save Clint from his embarrassment. "I'm not a physical warrior- I deal in magic and knives. Spears and the like."
Natasha grunted at the men got up. "Pussies. Let's work out then." She began to head over to the weights and turned to beckon the others. "You have no choice," she pointed at the god. "You work out or you get to be Clint's bench rest."
Loki rose to follow them reluctantly. "I thought you said I had no choice."
Natasha sniggered and turned away, settling herself on the grey seat of a weight machine and changing the weight settings before throwing herself into the workout, using her legs to lift. Clint snorted and turned to the god.
"Ever used any of these?"
"Of course not."
"Okay, then you get to start here- chest press. Take off your shirt."
Loki furrowed his brows in confusion. "Why?"
"Because you're gonna get sweaty and it's a dress shirt. You can leave your wife-beater on."
Loki hesitantly unbuttoned his shirt and draped it over a bench, revealing his bare pale chest to the archer. Clint's brows shot up.
"No wife-beater?"
"I don't know what that is."
"It's- You know, never mind." Clint pointed to the seat between the metal arms of the machine and told the god to sit. He explained the function of the chest press and showed him the weights and the peg that adjusted how much would be lifted. He selected a general weight for someone Loki's size and told him to push out his arms gently. He lifted it too easily, jerking his arms forward at having expected a hefty resistance and met with nothing. Clint humphed, and moved the peg down further on the weight blocks, telling Loki to lift again. They adjusted the weight a couple more times until they were both satisfied with the resistance level. Clint whistled, impressed, and settled himself on the machine beside the god, picking a weight and lifting as well.
After a few reps he called over to Natasha, voice echoing a little with the space of the gym.
"Hey, you have the music controls over there?"
He heard the clang of the weights and Natasha's sigh of relief from the work. She hummed and looked around, finding the remote and clicking the power button, pressing the volume buttons repeatedly until the gym started to fill up with loud beats from the speakers set around the room.
"Thanks," he called back and continued to lift.
Loki slowed in his chest presses and lifted his head to listen to the music that boomed against his chest. He looked over at Clint who noticed his turn and nodded his head in silent question, but Loki just shook his head and went back to the workout. Clint didn't lift again, taking the moment to watch the wiry muscles of Loki's arms stretch, his pecs flex. He found himself staring and shook himself out of it, getting up to move the god to another machine and work another set of muscles. Another few set of reps on this and then Clint moved him again, bringing him to the free weights and letting him pick a comfortable weight for himself, which happened to be a set of giant dumbbells. He had the god lie back on a bench and demonstrated on him what his next moves were.
"So, hold these up back here behind your head. Right, yup, now just use these muscles here-" Clint tapped the skin on the back of Loki's upper arms- "to bring them up above your head. Yes- well, wait now, don't use the momentum to bring them up and down; we're not jerking off here."
He wrapped his hands around Loki's over the dumbbells and sat on the floor behind his head, guiding the god with the kind of movement he should have. After a few moments Clint released his hands and got up hastily, picking his own bars and kneeling on the next bench to begin his sets. He looked up at the mirrors lining the walls and checked his form, and then he glanced at the god and looked away just as quickly, huffing hard and lifting a little faster. He shook his head and told himself to just listen to the music, concentrate on his reps. Another booming song pounded through the speakers, vibrating the mirrors slightly. He listened to the words as he counted his reps, panting the numbers quietly on occasion when he became tired. The song wasn't even halfway over when he yelled at Natasha to skip it.
"What's the matter-" she teased as she came over to the barbell nearby and loaded the weights onto it- "don't like Katy?"
He grunted and rolled his eyes as he switched arms. "Just not into music about magic right now."
"Mm-hm," She hummed knowingly.
Loki sat up and rested his arms, hanging his head down and his hands between his knees. The song changed as Clint requested and played another bass heavy tune, this one with banjoes or ukulele's strumming on occasion to offset it. Sometimes brass played in the style of the roaring 20's. Strange combination, Clint thought, but it fit well. He went for a few more sets in his position and then rested as well, sitting on the edge of the bench and taking long breaths through his nose. He looked up at the god who still let his head hang.
"We done here?" the archer asked him.
The god nodded without looking up.
Clint beckoned the god to follow him and he did so wearily. "We're gonna hit the showers," he shouted as they passed by Natasha.
The music died down as they entered the locker rooms, still discernible, but not quite so heavy as it had been. Clint grabbed two towels off the rack as they went to his locker again, tossing them onto the benches and beginning to peel off his sweat-soaked shirt. He started on the strings of his sweatpants and looked up distractedly at the god who'd suddenly turned and found something more interesting to look at. He knew what was happening, having remembered the time in the forest when he'd come back to camp and found Loki having showered while he was gone.
"Want me to go in first?" He offered. "I ain't gonna look, if that's what's bugging you."
Loki shook his head. "No, but you may go."
Clint stared at the god curiously and then he dropped his pants and grabbed one of the towels, walking away from him. He threw the towel over the half-wall that separated the showers from the lockers and padded over to the far wall, turning the dials until the water shooting out of the shower head was hot and steaming. He stepped into the spray face first, letting it stream down his chin and onto his chest, spritzing tiny droplets onto his arms. He bent his head and ran his fingers through his hair to wet it and blindly reached forward for the shampoo on the wall. The sound of another shower squeaking to life alerted him to Loki's entrance. He lathered the shampoo in his hair roughly, forcing his eyes shut hard. He wanted to tell himself it was so the suds wouldn't get into his eyes, but he finally admitted it- he wanted to look and he'd told Loki he wouldn't. He'd already seen the god's chest and arms, sinewy and firm, and he couldn't believe himself but Clint wanted to see the rest. See if the rest of him was just the same. He sighed, exasperated at himself, and leaned his hands against the tiled wall, letting his head hang in the spray of water and wash away the shampoo.
In the soft echoes of the showers, Loki spoke as he lathered up.
"There is something we're not speaking of," he announced.
"Making things awkward?"
"Mm-hm." The god rubbed the soap he discovered between his hands under the water.
Clint squirted some conditioner into his hand and slung it into his hair haphazardly before moving for the soap in his shower's wall alcove.
"Well, I'm all about things not being awkward, but you go first."
Loki was pensive as he rubbed the soap over himself, judging how to go about setting their minds at ease.
"We are both experiencing forbidden attraction," he finally decided with a nod. "And we thought the other had no notion of it, but now we do."
"'Forbidden attraction'," Clint muttered as he rubbed himself down with the soap and rinsed it off quickly. He stood under the downpour of the shower, clean, but not wanting to leave the odd security of the water. "So what are we going to do?"
"Since we both know about this attraction, we have a few options. We could admit it to each other and carry on in the manner of a newly-met pair becoming familiar. We could confess still and choose to not act on the feelings. Or we may not admit to anything, and continue on as we have been, creating awkward situations and not talking about anything."
Clint groaned and swiped his sopping hair away from his face, staring up at the ceiling while the scalding water turned his skin red. "Fuck. I don't like this weird shit we're doing, number three's out. But..." He sighed and closed his eyes. "I feel like this is so easy for you, but for me- it'd be easy if you weren't the guy who brainwashed me and had me kill other people, other agents."
"No one would need know about any of this outside of you and me," Loki reassured softly. "SHIELD would know nothing, if that's your concern."
"It is." Clint felt a little like a weight had been lifted from him with how easily Loki addressed his worries and soothed them.
"Then what is your decision?"
The archer shook his head, "I can't admit and not act, I'd slip up and then we'd be weird again."
"Then you know what you want, don't you?"
"I don't know exactly what I want, but I want to try to know."
Loki smiled gently down at the white tiles of the shower floor and Clint, at the far end of the showers, heaved a heavy sigh as the weight was lifted from his chest and he looked up at the ceiling again.
"Loki," he croaked, bewildered at what he was going to say, his heart was leaping into his throat. "Even though you brainwashed me, had me kill my coworkers, made me scrape and steal for you, and help you invade the planet with vicious aliens..." He sighed again and looked at the god over his shoulder, "I have feelings for you."
Loki met his eye from his spot under the spray of water and nodded in acknowledgement of Clint's confession. He looked away to the tiles to say his piece and Clint let him have the privacy of the moment, but not before stealing a glance at the god's naked ass first.
"Agent Barton-"
"I think you can call me by my name now."
"May I have my say without interruption please?"
"Sorry."
Loki huffed and started again. "Clint, even though I am bound to your side as partial punishment for the offenses you already outlined, and even though you brutally attacked me and pierced my hand with an arrow, and no doubt told your agents what a disgusting and abhorrent person I am- I have feelings for you as well."
The water sloshing to the floor was the only sound for a few moments while the two contemplated their words and what it would mean for them in the future. Clint didn't like looking to the future much, he preferred to live in the moment, and he dealt with this just the same. He wouldn't try to think of what could happen, he'd deal with events as they unfolded, just as he did with everything else in his life.
"Ready to go home?"
"Please. My arms ache."
Clint chuckled breathlessly and turned the shower off, hearing Loki do the same with the squeaks of the dials. They turned to gather their towels, and Clint froze when he remembered the god was just as naked as himself. He did his best to keep his eyes above the waist, but Loki offered him no such privacy, letting his gaze wander all the way down Clint's stout body to his toes and back up. He ambled away and wrapped the towel around his hips, leaving Clint flushing from head to toe at the looking over the god gave him. He followed quickly and started drying off, tugging on his clothes in the damp air.
"At least we got the 'changing in front of each other' thing out of the way," Clint said with chuckle, trying to ease his nervousness.
The sound of the locker room doors opening prompted a little fear from Clint, he shut his locker quickly and touched the god's elbow as he strode away, wanting to get Loki out of the headquarters.
"Come on."
They dodged the agents entering the lockers, getting changed for their own workouts, and hurried out of the gym, Clint waving goodbye to Natasha when she waved. They took the elevator down to the garage and found his motorcycle amidst the crowd of vehicles. The blond mounted the bike and used the sleeve of his sweater to wipe dust off his helmet visor while Loki climbed on behind him. His heart skipped a beat when the god's hands slipped onto his hips with a gentle grip. Clint looked down at the long fingers over his jeans and took a deep, calming breath.
"Oh, boy."
"You commanded I hold you here at all times," Loki reminded him quietly, but Clint couldn't see the smirk on his face.
"No, yeah- it's all good. It's all about safety, and this is totally not weird." He stuffed his head into the helmet and patted Loki on the hand, leaving it there for more than a necessary moment.
"Not weird at all."
He kicked the bike to life and when Loki scooted closer to him, finally fitting on the seat completely and touching back to chest, Clint revved the engine in a startled reaction. He felt the god's deep chuckle against his back and he shook his head, speeding them out of the garage.
Clint drove them leisurely through the city, not making a fuss about the traffic or when someone wasn't paying attention and made them miss a light. He felt safer in the mad rush of the city, all the people who didn't know who he or Loki were and paid them no special attention. When they stopped at a red light, Clint would steady the bike with his boots on the road and he reached down hesitantly to lay his hand over Loki's, rubbing his thumb over his skin. Loki leaned his forehead against the back of the helmet.
The light turned green and Clint gave the intersecting street a glance before lifting off and starting through the intersection. A check of his mirrors and he'd memorized the cars in his vicinity. Silver Prius, red F1-50, yellow Camaro, black Mustang, red Civic. They would change at the next light, but his training had conditioned him to keep an eye out no matter where he was. The only place he let his guard down was at home. He slowed the motorcycle to another light and steadied it with his feet on the ground again, looking down when Loki's hand creeped onto his thigh. He straightened up and watched the street lights, taking one hand away from the handlebar and setting it atop Loki's hand again, nestling his fingers in between the god's. This was a distraction, and a dangerous one at that, for the ride home, and Clint found himself wondering just how far Loki would push their new boundaries.
The light went green again and Clint checked the cars around him again as he waited for the line to start moving. Green Wrangler, purple Miata, black Mustang, white Sonata, beige Optima. He put his hand back on the handlebar and moved them through the intersection. Loki moved his hand onto his hip again.
They rode through a few lights, keeping the traffic moving, and Clint kept an eye on his mirrors. Black Mustang. It was still within his sights, even all these blocks later. Clint tried not to tense up, knowing it could very well be some guy just happening to be on the street with him, going home from work. The vehicle slowly weaved through the traffic and soon drove directly behind him. It had black out windows- illegal if you didn't have a permit or usually a limousine. He looked ahead again, coming close to another light. It turned yellow and Clint leaned forward and zoomed the bike through the intersection just as it flicked up to red. He didn't need to look in his mirrors to know the car had followed him out- horns honked and the Mustang revved up behind him, creeping up close enough to touch and then backing off a few feet before doing it again. Loki's grip on Clint's hips turned painful with the frantic speed and he shouted at him through the helmet.
"What's wrong?" Loki glanced behind him at the noise of the Mustang and turned back around immediately.
Clint knew he'd looked and figured out just what was wrong.
"Who are they?"
Clint shook his head in answer that he didn't know, but when the window of the car slid down and the muzzle of a gun peeked out, he swerved instantly as the shot rang out, skipping between the cars of the next lane. Loki ducked at the sound of the gun and wrapped his arms around Clint's middle, holding on tight while the agent weaved them through the traffic, trying to lose the Mustang in the crowd though it had begun to thin out, making it a simple matter of clipping cars as it passed to get to them.
They had driven onto a partial residential road, homes on the right and small buildings of shops on the left, as they leaned into a tight corner and dodged a hail of bullets from the Mustang. Clint kicked the bike into high gear and sped through the street, no longer watching his mirrors but turning his body to see the car veer onto their tail again. As he turned back to the front he caught a glimpse of something giant and dark between the old boxy houses- a black van, nondescript and sporting reflective black windows, speeding up the crossing street towards them. It barreled down the center of the street, forcing oncoming cars to swerve around it and bumping the one's going in it's direction onto the sidewalks. Clint looked towards the intersection and realized he had no time to alter his course; the van was going to ram them. He gripped the bars tight and ran the bike harder, pushing them faster.
He heard the Mustang screech to a halt and he watched the van speed right up to the side of the bike and skid the tires as it turned into them, punching the bike off the road in an explosion of dust and metal, flinging Loki away to tumble and scrape against the concrete like a rag doll. Clint had somehow held onto the motorcycle and gripped the bars like it meant his life as his leg was crushed underneath, arm and leg sliding against the road as the bike toppled and spun away from the van. All he could hear was the crush of metal and the grating noise of gravel on the side of his helmet.
When the bike's momentum slowed, Clint yelled behind his teeth as he pulled himself out from under the bike and crawled a foot away, his leg feeling numb and pulsing pain at the same time. He shoved the helmet off and panted as he glanced over at the van, which had the window open and the driver was arguing with the two who had gotten out of the Mustang, standing between the two vehicles. They shouted and gestured, accusing the other of not knowing how to ram another car correctly. Clint searched the debris for Loki and found him across the street, huddled against the curb and shakily raising himself up on his arms, groaning open mouthed at the pain in his body. The archer half crawled, half hobbled over to him and shakily brought Loki to his feet, panting at him that they had to go and limped down an alley while the pursuant's still argued amongst each other. Clint made them twist and turn down the back alley roads between businesses before turning into an open door, startling the Islamic family inside. Clint heaved and huffed with Loki as they paused for only a second and then hobbled past them through the kitchen and up the stairs, hearing the men starting to shout and pursue them on foot. He shoved Loki through the first door they came across and slammed the door, locking it with the meager push-button on the knob. He fished his phone out of his pants pocket and staggered over to the window, dropping to his knees and peeking over the sill while the phone dialed.
Loki also fell to the floor, leaning on the side of his legs as he caught his breath. He was cut everywhere, skin scraped away and some still left hanging on him in small sheafs. He panted and ran his hand over his face, pulling away to find it bloody. He looked over at Clint when he started muttering into his phone, and his face paled as he saw his left arm scraped and cut, and leg skinned to the muscle beside his knee, both dripping blood onto the carpet.
"Nat!" Clint panted in relief when the phone picked up. "'Royal Red', royal-fucking-red, Nat, I need backup!"
Loki crawled painfully over to Clint and ripped a sheet off of the bed behind them, tearing it apart and starting to wrap it hastily around the archer's knee. Clint jumped at the sudden attention, grabbing Loki's wrist in unthinking reaction, but he released the god when he realized what he was doing and he reached up to grip the back of his neck, pulling their foreheads together.
"You got my location? Okay, I-" he glanced over the edge of the window again and ducked back down just as quickly. "Fuck, there's more. You're what?" He looked at Loki without really seeing him, calculating. "Goddamn it! You knew?! I- Yeah, he's here. He's banged up, I didn't have time to assess how bad."
He began to gasp heavily, wheezing with every breath, leaning against the wall. Loki fastened the makeshift bandage as tight as he could, cursing when the blood simply soaked through it. Clint groaned and squeezed his eyes tight as he became lightheaded from the blood loss. He started to slip backwards and Loki slowed his fall to the floor, cushioning his head with his hand. The archer gripped Loki's thigh and panted as he passed out, dropping the phone.
Loki grabbed it and put it to his ear, hearing the tail end of Natasha's questioning.
"Listen to me, you unctuous, pining wench," he hissed into the phone. "You will send rescue and reinforcements this very moment or I will cut open your belly and loose a nest of snakes into your gore!"
He tossed the phone onto the floor and heaved a heavy sigh, placing his hand over Clint's wrapped wound and he waited.