Fic: Distant Voices, The Avengers, Clint/Loki, PG-13
Title: Distant Voices
Author: Claire
Fandom: The Avengers
Pairing: Clint Barton/Loki
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 334
Summary: Clint can't explain it
Notes: Written on Twitter and directly at seiyaharris. There have since been extra words added (although not a huge amount, given the word count ::grin:: )
Distant Voices
Clint's mouth has barely wrapped around the first word before he snaps his lips shut, not entirely sure how to explain it. How to explain that the guy he met a while back, the one who bought him a drink and pressed against him under the hot lights of the club, who whispered things in his ear and fucked him in the back alley because neither of them could wait until they got back to Clint's place, is the one standing in front of them, eyes wild as he calls Thor brother.
He can't explain it as he watches the buildings collapse around them, chunks of stone and concrete barely missing Natasha as she dodges out of the way, and he can't explain it as Hulk throws a car towards a figure that just shimmers and vanishes, only to reappear once the broken vehicle slides to a halt.
He can't explain that the one who laughs when Tony barely regains control of the suit before crashing into the sidewalk is the one who ran his thumb down Clint's spine last night as he fucked into him, dropping words like yes and mine and always like molasses into Clint's ear, with promises of never letting you go dripping like honey onto Clint's skin.
And he sure as hell can't explain why his arrow went wide; sliding into the tree Loki was standing next to instead of where Steve had pointed. He can't explain and he won't, because he knows they won't ask. Thor himself had said that Loki was mischief and lies and untruths wrapped in false concern. He's a god, and what's one arrow against that, even one that should have fired straight and true. He's Loki and Clint is, when it all comes down to it, just human.
So they won't ask and Clint won't tell them. And tonight, when there are fingers running through dirty blond and green eyes watching him like they're expecting him to say something, Clint won't ask either.
Author: Claire
Fandom: The Avengers
Pairing: Clint Barton/Loki
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 334
Summary: Clint can't explain it
Notes: Written on Twitter and directly at seiyaharris. There have since been extra words added (although not a huge amount, given the word count ::grin:: )
Distant Voices
Clint's mouth has barely wrapped around the first word before he snaps his lips shut, not entirely sure how to explain it. How to explain that the guy he met a while back, the one who bought him a drink and pressed against him under the hot lights of the club, who whispered things in his ear and fucked him in the back alley because neither of them could wait until they got back to Clint's place, is the one standing in front of them, eyes wild as he calls Thor brother.
He can't explain it as he watches the buildings collapse around them, chunks of stone and concrete barely missing Natasha as she dodges out of the way, and he can't explain it as Hulk throws a car towards a figure that just shimmers and vanishes, only to reappear once the broken vehicle slides to a halt.
He can't explain that the one who laughs when Tony barely regains control of the suit before crashing into the sidewalk is the one who ran his thumb down Clint's spine last night as he fucked into him, dropping words like yes and mine and always like molasses into Clint's ear, with promises of never letting you go dripping like honey onto Clint's skin.
And he sure as hell can't explain why his arrow went wide; sliding into the tree Loki was standing next to instead of where Steve had pointed. He can't explain and he won't, because he knows they won't ask. Thor himself had said that Loki was mischief and lies and untruths wrapped in false concern. He's a god, and what's one arrow against that, even one that should have fired straight and true. He's Loki and Clint is, when it all comes down to it, just human.
So they won't ask and Clint won't tell them. And tonight, when there are fingers running through dirty blond and green eyes watching him like they're expecting him to say something, Clint won't ask either.