"Caw, caw!" Clint said under his breath into the Bluetooth receiver in his glasses. He only allowed himself a moment of satisfaction as the A.I.M. Hoverbot exploded and spiraled to the ground in front of his teammates. The next second, he was focused on another target.

"Nice shooting, Ace," Cap's voice crackled in his ear approvingly. "Cover my two, Hawkeye."

Clint spotted two A.I.M. Hoverbots converging on Cap. He dropped the one behind Thor and brought his bow around sharply. He deftly nocked two arrows and let them loose. "I'll do one better sweetheart. I've got your two and your six. I'd hate to lose you."

His heart dropped. No, he did not just call Cap "sweetheart." Heat rose up to his face. He did not just tell Cap he was important to him. His uniform was suddenly very uncomfortable. How could he let that slip? What the hell was wrong with him?

"Hey! Hawk! Eyes on the sky; sure could use backup here!" crackled Tony's strained voice.

Trying to shake the nerves and shame that welled up inside him, Clint did his best to help. Trembling fingers fumbled in the quiver, on the nock….

Get it together, Clint.

"Getting pretty hot down here, Hawkeye!"

It's getting pretty hot up here, he added in his head. He spun on his heel to find Cap and Thor and nearly fell over. They were getting closed in and all he was doing was getting tangled in his own legs. Cursing, he grabbed for an arrow. He dropped it. He cursed again.

"Hawkeye!" Tony cried. ""I've got six on my tail, take them out!"

"I—"

"Thor is down," yelled Cap. "Where are you, Hawkeye?"

Clint shook himself. Where are you? he thought desperately. Shake it off‼ He struggled to slow his hammering heart, calm his erratic breathing. He could hardly swallow he was so humiliated.

He narrowed his eyes, nocked two arrows and shot in Tony's direction. He was so flustered, he didn't even notice the cry of surprise. He spun towards Cap and tried to grab arrows from his quiver. After grabbing five, and dropping three—"Shit!"—he only had one to nock. He let loose on the bots that came too close to Cap.

"What the fuck, Clint!?" Tony yelled. "You're supposed to shoot the bots not me!"

"Fuck," Clint moaned. He squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to calm himself but his body shook like a leaf. He'd messed up, he'd messed up bad. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"CLINT‼" Cap yelled.

The A.I.M. Hoverbots shot Tony down. The orange laser blasts connected with the Iron Man suit and he tumbled forward, his thrusters spluttering out. He careened out of control and hit the ground hard with a jaw-clenching metallic crunch. Cap was surrounded by eight of them. He hurled his shield, destroying one bot, but the rest moved in closer to fill the gap. They closed in and the small space containing Cap was suddenly charged with superheated plasma.

"Noooo!" Clint cried, the grip on his bow going slack. His fault. All this. This was all his fault. All because of a slip of the tongue. Just because he couldn't control his feelings. Just because he couldn't regain his composure. He had failed his teammates.

Floodlights clicked on, illuminating their street and the carnage Clint had allowed to happen through his lack of focus. Soon the street shimmered and disappeared along with the A.I.M. Hoverbots. The room was blank again; totally empty and totally white save the blue grid that glowed faintly over the walls, ceiling, and floor.

Jarvis' voice echoed around the room. "Mission 14: A.I.M. Hoverbots: 72% completion. Critical mission failure."

Clint sighed heavily as the pedestal he stood on to simulate a rooftop lowered slowly to the ground. He flicked his bow closed and clicked it into place on his quiver. He couldn't believe how badly he fucked the mission up. And he definitely didn't want to confront the old man about his slip up though he knew Cap would ask. He always did. He was caring and considerate that way. He was incredibly sweet… but he would probably never stand for Clint thinking of him any other way than as a teammate. Cap would probably never speak to him again. He'd probably never even look at him again. Clint felt a terrible pang for the treasured friendship he was about to lose. All because he was too stupid to keep his feelings to himself.

Tony groaned and heaved himself off the floor, massaging his chest. "Even though the bolts don't hurt, the floor sure does," he grunted. His mask slid smoothly out of place and he angrily turned on the approaching Clint. "What the hell were you doing up there? Reading Cosmo?"

Cap eyed them warily, helping Thor to his feet.

Clint scowled. "I dunno," he mumbled.

"I've seen children with better aim than you this day," Thor said crossly, rubbing his shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" echoed Tony. "No, "sorry" is when you accidentally detonate a bot too close to me. That's "sorry." "Sorry" is not when you shoot me with one of your stupid arrows and let your teammates get killed by crazed bots‼"

Clint flinched as Tony yelled. He knew it was all his fault. He didn't need them to say so. But this training exercise wasn't his most pressing concern. "Look, I said I was sorry, okay?"

Tony opened his mouth to yell again when Cap cut him off. "Leave him alone, Tony. Mistakes happen," he said smoothly.

"What?! You, Cap? He let you get cornered!"

"I know that. But I also know that he won't ever let it happen again, right, Ace?" Cap cast Clint a small, comforting smile.

It made his knees weak. He had to look away. "It won't," he said firmly, willing his voice not to break.

"Good. See that it doesn't, Ace."

"It had better not, or I swear to god I will revoke your Avengership, Legolas!"

"Tony," Cap growled in a warning voice.

"Yeah, whatever. Let's just get outta here."

Head hung low, Clint made to follow Tony and Thor when Cap cleared his throat.

"Hold a second there, Clint," he said.

Clint inwardly groaned. Butterflies erupted in his stomach. Here it comes. The death sentence. The crippling blow. The "thanks but no thanks." The "don't you ever speak to me again." It wouldn't matter what he said, their friendship was now over. It wouldn't matter how Cap tried to ease the rejection, he knew it would be painful, he knew he would never recover. He would be absolutely crushed, his heart torn to smithereens. He didn't even dare raise his eyes to meet the kind, beautiful ones he'd come to love so much.

He doubted he could ever look into them again.

"What really happened out there?" he asked gently.

Clint couldn't help but flinch. "You and I both know, Cap," he murmured. His chest felt constricted. If Cap wasn't standing right here, Clint imagined he could've cried. Easily. He could barely breathe. He could barely speak. He wanted to brace himself against Cap's next words of disgust, but it was useless. It would never matter how many walls he put up. Cap would rip them all down to drive that final nail into his heart.

"That? That is what had you out for the whole mission?" Clint detected a hint of amusement in Cap's voice and his lip trembled. That was all he needed. Cap was going to make fun of him and then crush his soul.

He didn't trust himself to answer, he only shrugged.

Silence stretched between them that made Clint want to scream. He wanted to storm off and throw himself off the top of Avengers tower.

"Sooooo…. How long have you….?"

"A while," Clint mumbled vaguely, doubting Cap really wanted to know. He tried to fight off the nausea threatening him. He tried to ignore the clenching and unclenching of his stomach. Here it comes; this arrow will fly straight and true and will rip me to tiny pieces….

"Hmm."

He braced himself.

"Hey, Ace…" Gentle gloved fingers touched his chin. They tilted Clint's face up to Cap's. Their eyes found each other's and he was reminded, not for the first time, that looking into Cap's eyes was like getting lost in summertime. They were everything that was pure and beautiful about a clear summer sky. And then, Cap captured him.

His lips found Clint's and he felt all his muscles go slack, all his fears evaporated. Nothing worried him now, in this moment, not even what the others would think. All that mattered now was this glorious man pressed to his lips and their movement together. Rhythmic, like they'd practiced. Pure, like they'd never kissed anyone but each other. Tender, as if they'd always felt this way.

Clint pressed himself closer to Cap and dared to run his hands over the chiseled chest, to cradle that beautiful face in his hands.

This was a moment from his dreams.

Then Cap pulled away. His arms slid around Clint's body and Clint shivered. Now he was trapped in an embrace he'd only ever imagined but there was nowhere else in the world he wanted to be more.

Cap studied Clint's face with keen interest and experimented with stooping to touch his nose to Clint's. Clint gulped hard. He knew his face had to be flushed. He knew he had to look naively hopeful, like a puppy just before his master throws his ball. Cap's perfect bow shaped lips stretched into a kind smile.

"Call me, Steve."