They'd headed up hill into the forested area, bird calls around them, Clint leading the way as he found the path. They'd moved at a light jog, both of them physically fit enough to disparage the idea of leisurely strolls at this point in the day. As they'd climbed, through breaks in the tree's Steve could see the land sliding away below them, and the beauty of the place they were in.
Nearly an hour later, they broke into a clearing. Clint was breathing a little hard, and Steve gave the man some privacy to catch his breath. Though in excellent shape, Clint was older, and didn't have the serum-advancement's Steve had – they'd had an intense hike, and Clint had led the entire way, barely slowing down at all. Steve wasn't sure what exactly to call the place they were in. Although not a cliff, they were definitely on a mountain side, and the ground fell away to one side, but it wasn't exactly the end of the mountain. Shrugging to himself, he turned around, only to realize that Clint had vanished. His backpack lay on the ground, but there was no sign of the agent anywhere. Berating himself, Steve dropped his backpack to the ground, and crossed over to examine the ground beside Clint's pack. There were the tracks that Clint had made coming in, but then nothing else. It was almost as though the man had vanished.
Looking around, Steve caught a glimpse of movement on the other side of the clearing. Crouching low, he crept forward, trying hard to be as silent as possible. Behind a bush, something rustled, trying furtively not to be seen. He leapt forward, somersaulting over the bush, landing upright ready to do battle, and found himself facing down a startled rabbit. They stared at each other for seconds, before the rabbit leapt forward, darting between Steve's startled legs, and fleeing for cover. Steve snickered to himself, at the thought of him almost fighting an innocent bunny, when he heard another rustle.
Before he could respond, a dark shape tackled him to the ground, rolling them back into the clearing, Steve on the ground, the breath knocked out of him. The figure was wearing a mask that completely hid its features – there weren't even eye holes. Steve lashed out, trying to land a blow, but the figure blocked his moves, and slammed his wrists back into the ground. Something cold pressed around each wrist, and Steve looked back to see his wrists had steel band around them, that pushed them into the ground. At the angle that he was, he couldn't pull them out. He rolled his legs up, trying to wrap them around his opponent, and throw him, but again, the figure moved, evading the flailing limbs and preventing Steve from moving. Before he could try another attack, the figure straddled him, its hands reaching forwards and finding Steve's ribs.
Steve gasped, as the figure started tickling him mercilessly. He was pinned helpless, and some sadistic person had been trained to locate Captain America's weak spot, and use it against him. He tried to catch his breath, unable to laugh, but helpless, as a low giggle burst from the figure torturing him. He recognized that voice.
"Clint?" he gasped, as the figure moved again, finding a new spot to tickle. Still laughing, Clint reached up to pull off his mask. Steve was furious. Clint was wracked by laughter and could barely continue tickling him, and Steve took the moment to flip him over, wrenching his wrists out of the ground. Clint was lying on the ground roaring with laughter, and Steve couldn't help but start laughing as well. He leapt on Clint, who lay, too weakened by laughter to fend him off, and began tickling him as well. Clint roared and gasped and pleaded, but Steve persisted, tickling Clint until tears were streaming down his face.
"Mercy, mercy!" Clint finally managed to gasp out, and Steve stopped. Clint swept his legs around and knocked Steve over again, and leapt on him, regaining his former position, and began tickling him again. Steve was prepared this time however, and quickly grabbed Clint's wrists, pulling them to the side.
The move brought Clint closer to his face, and the two men froze, suddenly aware of how their bodies were placed. Clint was on top of Steve, one leg on either side of his hips, his chest pressing into Steve's , his lips so close to Steve's that Steve only had to lean forwards slightly to make the kiss completely. Clint could feel Steve's heart beating through the thin fabric covering his chest, the muscles on the heaving chest beneath him. Their eyes were locked, blue and grey, afraid to look away, afraid to move forwards. Steve swallowed nervously, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips nervously.
Clint watched the movement, no sign of hilarity on his face, his own tongue unconsciously mirroring Steve's movement. Clint maintained eye contact, and leaned closer, his lips gently brushing Steve's, who didn't respond. Plucking up his courage, Clint closed his eyes and completed the kiss, tasting the lips he'd been dreaming of for weeks now. Steve's lips parted naturally, perhaps in surprise, and Clint kissed him, once, twice, three times, before leaning back to see if Steve was alright. He'd barely started back up again, when Steve released his wrists, and reached up, gripping the back of Clint's head in one hand, and wrapping around his waist with the other, and pulling him back down, this time planting a kiss of his own. It was hot, desperate and intense, and Clint responded, his tongue pushing forwards to deepen the kiss, eliciting a moan from Steve who clumsily tried to replicate the movement.
They pulled apart, breathing heavily, Steve's hand trembling slightly as it now rested against Clint's shoulder. Steve 's face was flushed, his blonde hair askew, a slight frown crossing his brow as he watched Clint , clearly worried that he'd done something wrong, unsure of what to do next. Clint smiled, turning his head to kiss the hand that rested on his shoulder. Steve's responding smile was so wide it rivaled the sunlight beaming down around them. Clint had never seen anyone so happy, and he doubted he ever would again. Taking a hold of Steve's hand, he stood up, pulling the taller man to his feet, then hugged him, letting him know silently that everything was alright.
Clint broke the embrace, pulling away and crossing the clearing towards his backpack.
"Let's keep going," he said, pulling it on. "I want to make our campsite before nightfall."
Steve nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet, not wanting to say the wrong thing. He tugged on his backpack, and walked over to Clint who was waiting for him. Clint stood aside, letting Steve take the lead, and as he did so, he felt one of Clint's strong muscular hands grab his ass. Steve jumped, pulling away laughing, noting the burning lust in Clint's eyes that belied his otherwise innocent expression. Their campsite lay below, a small clearing that bordered the body of water Clint had seen from the plane.