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ROUND SIX
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It's the stupidly placed box of tissues on the floor that gives Clint away.
He'd been watching, just watching, as Steve had what he supposes should be called a minor break down. Watching and not acting mostly because he didn't know what to do, but also sort of because the sight had shocked him into next week. But then he'd gone and taken a step closer and there the box was.
"Who--" Steve says, swinging around, and Clint can see his eyes are red but only for a second before Steve turns away again. "Do you need something?"
Clint frowns, steps off the tissue box and shifts his weight from his right leg to his left.
"Do you--" Steve goes to ask again after extended silence, but his voice cuts out and he doesn't finish.
Clint picks up the tissue box and makes his way to sit on the edge of Steve's bed. "You might want to put the laptop back on the desk, Cap," he finally speaks up. "If you throw those, they can't just be glued back together. Or squished back into shape." He shoves at the corners of the box until it's mostly rectangular again and puts it down on the bed beside him.
The muscles in Steve's shoulders tense and relax a few times before he puts the laptop down, bracing himself then with hands on the edge of the desk.
Unsure what to say, Clint's mouth hangs open for a few seconds, then he closes it.
"I'm sorry," Steve says.
Clint blinks. "What?"
Steve takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Clint watches the gradual rise and fall of his shoulders. "I'm sorry," Steve repeats, "for this. I've been trying to-- I was thinking that--" He straightens up and rubs a hand over his face. "Damn."
Clint just sits in silence, observing. Steve always seemed to have it all together.
"Look," Steve says, turning around to face Clint, "I'll be fine in a second, so I'd appreciate it if you could just leave and forget about all this." He scrunches his face, looking at his feet, and mumbles, "It's not like I can lead a team like this."
"Hey," Clint says. "Hey. If that were the case then none of us would be fit to lead."
Steve's eyes flick up. "But what about Natasha? Or Tony? They--"
"None of us," Clint repeats. "I'm not kidding." Clint grins at him. "Now sit down and take a god damn tissue," he says, patting the bed and holding the box out to Steve.
It's weird seeing Steve the next day. Steve with composure and Steve that never lived through last night. Seemingly.
Except that when Steve meets his eyes when they're out fighting some stupid giant robot dog thing, Steve quickly looks away, and Clint wonders if maybe he's embarrassed.
Clint shoots an arrow into the freaking robot dog's eye and while it's distracted, he jumps down next to Steve. "Hey Cap," he says.
Steve ignores him and braces himself to catch his shield as it comes flying back.
"You know I admire you?" Clint goes on.
Steve tenses, has his hands in the right place to catch the shield and it sort of gets there, but he fumbles and drops it, and he hopes he picks it up in time for no one to notice. Not including Clint, of course.
Clint bursts out laughing, bent over with one hand on his knee to brace himself, and he finds his attention straying from the battle for the first time in a long time, because if Steve fumbling his shield is not the most adorable thing he's seen all month, he doesn't know what is.
Suddenly Steve's hand is on his back forcing him to the ground and the shield is held up over the two of them.
"Of course it has laser eyes," Clint laughs.
And it's not Steve who replies, but Captain America. "Pay attention, Hawkeye."
Clint's lips soften into a small smile. "Yes, sir," he says and salutes him before dashing off.
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Clint, on the other hand, has stitches across his left cheek and still has an icepack to his right brow. Probably would have done well to pay less attention to Steve and more to the dog thing. Maybe.
"Hey," he says.
Steve looks up and responds with a quiet, "Hi."
"I meant what I said today," Clint tells him, sliding into the room and shutting the door behind him. "Nat asked me why I was laughing and I was torn between telling her it was a personal joke and that it was because you were adorable."
Steve flushes at that. "Which one did you say?"
Clint just winks. "What are you reading?" He walks to Steve and shoves him over so he can sit next to him.
"Hm." Steve flicks the book over so Clint can see the cover.
Clint turns his head sideways to read it. "Oh, The Great Gatsby? Any good?"
Steve doesn't reply, just looks at Clint for a moment. "Thank you."
Clint shrugs, lips curled up at the edges. "Not a problem."
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