Are You Just Happy To See Me? [Avengers, Drabble]
Title: Are You Just Happy To See Me?
Rating: PG-13 (for swearing)
Beta: None
Pairing(s): Gen or possible pre-Clint Barton/Bruce Banner
Word Count: 814
Warnings: Swearing
Summary: Prompt fill for the phrase: "Please remove your hand from my pants."
Author's Note: Exact prompt text: Any/Any, "Please remove your hand from my pants". I don't care who and who. I kind of see Bruce or maybe Coulson as the one saying it, Tony or Clint as the one doing it, but I'm not deeply attached to any of them being involved. Author's choice. I'd prefer for there to be an actual relationship and not, you know, for it to be an extreme case of sexual harassment lol
"Please remove your hand from my pants."
"I'm still looking for it, give me a second."
"What," Bruce takes a breath, a faint facial tick forming as he tries not to move, "exactly are you looking for?"
"Well," Clint's tongue is running along his upper lip as he stares into the distance, thoughtful furrow between his brow while his hand presses, rubs, grazes and squeezes. "They're not exactly your pants are they?"
Bruce blinks and looks down at the clothing he'd been presented with after de-Hulking. He can't say whose they are exactly, but they're definitely not his. "Oh, they're yours?"
It's a testament to what living life as an Avenger periodically presents them with that Clint's vague nod makes some of the tension slip from his shoulders and change from a less hostile and uncomfortable 'what the fuck are you doing?' to something more long suffering in nature. "So is there a reason you're hand is down them?"
Clint nods again with a mumbled affirmation as he keeps shifting inquisitive fingers for a few more moments before he releases a triumphant huff of air. He plucks at something low by Bruce's right hip. Bruce can't help flinching slightly when knuckles graze a little too close to something he'd wished it hadn't. Clint doesn't seem at all perturbed as he pulls out his hand with an item the size of a needle head in between his fingers.
Bruce squints, thankful he'd also been handed his glasses. There are a few threads on the device and he watches as Clint slaps it on his bow. The item sticks and those few remaining pieces of cotton fall to the ground. He leans closer out of curiosity. "What is that?"
Clint's eyebrows rise as he slings the bow back over his shoulder, there's a hint of a smirk on his lips that's just this side of devious. "Are you asking about what's in my pants, Doc?"
It's an evasion and he's not going to push so Bruce's answering smile aims for sardonic instead, "Well, currently, that would be me."
Clint actually laughs at that and claps a companionably hand on his bare shoulder. "And they look damn good on you too."
Rolling his eyes, Bruce still can't help the awkward hunch to his posture the compliment brings as the archer pulls away. Clint doesn't let it affect him and just grins smaller but softer at him. "Come on, Doc. We better go find the Captain before he starts trying to collect and fuss over us little ducklings."
"Right."
They start making their way through the debris of the latest battle, moving ever closer to the S.H.I.E.L.D Agents that are wandering throughout the street, contemplating the next step in cleaning up the mess. He's truly glad they weren't watching them before. He's long grown out of embarrassment at his nudity, but even he might have felt uncomfortable having Clint's actions being witnessed. He wonders again what that little item does and why it was so important that Clint would walk up to him, yank back the waistband and dive right in.
Clint's already ahead of Bruce as he contemplates this, but the archer turns on his heel, walking backwards to tell him, "Oh, and if you really want to know what it was?"
Bruce can't keep his interest from perking up, the theories he'd been absentmindedly considering coming closer to the forefront of his mind. "Hmm?"
Clint's smirk broadens and goes slightly evil, "You'll just have to ask Tony; tell him I had my hand down your pants."
He blinks while at the same time thinking no, never, no but before he can vocalize that thought Clint's already got his hand to his ear, pressing against the comm device. Bruce knows it's a lost cause but he leaps for the Agent anyway. Clint darts out of the way laughing, his eyes alight with mischief and amusement.
"Hey Tony," he can hear the archer saying around a chuckle. "Your Science Bro wants to know what's in my pants."
Bruce stops trying to go after Clint and just closes his eyes and sighs on the inside instead. He forces himself to look back at the archer with a tired, resigned expression as Clint cheerful baits and plays with the Billionaire. He wonders when Tony will land, indignant and curious and blatantly sexual as he demands full disclosure about what's going on. It's not like he's the one who has anything to be embarrassed about, but still, it is Tony Stark.
The thought actually makes Bruce smile slightly and huff out a laugh, because, he thinks, looking at the archer, it could have been a fair bit worse. It could have been Tony himself with a hand down his pants and Bruce is willing to admit, if only to himself, he's much happier it was Clint.
Okay, so never written in this fandom before, bit of a lurker, saw this, sniggered and suddenly started writing in a comment box. OMG I HOPE THIS IS OKAY AND SOMEWHAT LIKE WHAT YOU ASKED FOR. Um, so yes. Gonna slink off now. Hope you enjoyed. /random pin-head item in pants is random and Clint could really just be an opportunist, but idek
Rating: PG-13 (for swearing)
Beta: None
Pairing(s): Gen or possible pre-Clint Barton/Bruce Banner
Word Count: 814
Warnings: Swearing
Summary: Prompt fill for the phrase: "Please remove your hand from my pants."
Author's Note: Exact prompt text: Any/Any, "Please remove your hand from my pants". I don't care who and who. I kind of see Bruce or maybe Coulson as the one saying it, Tony or Clint as the one doing it, but I'm not deeply attached to any of them being involved. Author's choice. I'd prefer for there to be an actual relationship and not, you know, for it to be an extreme case of sexual harassment lol
"Please remove your hand from my pants."
"I'm still looking for it, give me a second."
"What," Bruce takes a breath, a faint facial tick forming as he tries not to move, "exactly are you looking for?"
"Well," Clint's tongue is running along his upper lip as he stares into the distance, thoughtful furrow between his brow while his hand presses, rubs, grazes and squeezes. "They're not exactly your pants are they?"
Bruce blinks and looks down at the clothing he'd been presented with after de-Hulking. He can't say whose they are exactly, but they're definitely not his. "Oh, they're yours?"
It's a testament to what living life as an Avenger periodically presents them with that Clint's vague nod makes some of the tension slip from his shoulders and change from a less hostile and uncomfortable 'what the fuck are you doing?' to something more long suffering in nature. "So is there a reason you're hand is down them?"
Clint nods again with a mumbled affirmation as he keeps shifting inquisitive fingers for a few more moments before he releases a triumphant huff of air. He plucks at something low by Bruce's right hip. Bruce can't help flinching slightly when knuckles graze a little too close to something he'd wished it hadn't. Clint doesn't seem at all perturbed as he pulls out his hand with an item the size of a needle head in between his fingers.
Bruce squints, thankful he'd also been handed his glasses. There are a few threads on the device and he watches as Clint slaps it on his bow. The item sticks and those few remaining pieces of cotton fall to the ground. He leans closer out of curiosity. "What is that?"
Clint's eyebrows rise as he slings the bow back over his shoulder, there's a hint of a smirk on his lips that's just this side of devious. "Are you asking about what's in my pants, Doc?"
It's an evasion and he's not going to push so Bruce's answering smile aims for sardonic instead, "Well, currently, that would be me."
Clint actually laughs at that and claps a companionably hand on his bare shoulder. "And they look damn good on you too."
Rolling his eyes, Bruce still can't help the awkward hunch to his posture the compliment brings as the archer pulls away. Clint doesn't let it affect him and just grins smaller but softer at him. "Come on, Doc. We better go find the Captain before he starts trying to collect and fuss over us little ducklings."
"Right."
They start making their way through the debris of the latest battle, moving ever closer to the S.H.I.E.L.D Agents that are wandering throughout the street, contemplating the next step in cleaning up the mess. He's truly glad they weren't watching them before. He's long grown out of embarrassment at his nudity, but even he might have felt uncomfortable having Clint's actions being witnessed. He wonders again what that little item does and why it was so important that Clint would walk up to him, yank back the waistband and dive right in.
Clint's already ahead of Bruce as he contemplates this, but the archer turns on his heel, walking backwards to tell him, "Oh, and if you really want to know what it was?"
Bruce can't keep his interest from perking up, the theories he'd been absentmindedly considering coming closer to the forefront of his mind. "Hmm?"
Clint's smirk broadens and goes slightly evil, "You'll just have to ask Tony; tell him I had my hand down your pants."
He blinks while at the same time thinking no, never, no but before he can vocalize that thought Clint's already got his hand to his ear, pressing against the comm device. Bruce knows it's a lost cause but he leaps for the Agent anyway. Clint darts out of the way laughing, his eyes alight with mischief and amusement.
"Hey Tony," he can hear the archer saying around a chuckle. "Your Science Bro wants to know what's in my pants."
Bruce stops trying to go after Clint and just closes his eyes and sighs on the inside instead. He forces himself to look back at the archer with a tired, resigned expression as Clint cheerful baits and plays with the Billionaire. He wonders when Tony will land, indignant and curious and blatantly sexual as he demands full disclosure about what's going on. It's not like he's the one who has anything to be embarrassed about, but still, it is Tony Stark.
The thought actually makes Bruce smile slightly and huff out a laugh, because, he thinks, looking at the archer, it could have been a fair bit worse. It could have been Tony himself with a hand down his pants and Bruce is willing to admit, if only to himself, he's much happier it was Clint.
Okay, so never written in this fandom before, bit of a lurker, saw this, sniggered and suddenly started writing in a comment box. OMG I HOPE THIS IS OKAY AND SOMEWHAT LIKE WHAT YOU ASKED FOR. Um, so yes. Gonna slink off now. Hope you enjoyed. /random pin-head item in pants is random and Clint could really just be an opportunist, but idek