Okay – so this came out of nowhere. I was musing on post-Winter Soldier scenarios for my Clint/Jemma fic and suddenly thought;

So what happened when Hawkeye met Falcon?

It's told from Steve's perspective. And it's NOT in the same universe as my Clint/Jemma fic, or indeed any of my other fics to date – Clint is a lot more of a slut in this one

For the purposes of this story, Sam Wilson has told Steve that he's gay and Steve is fine with that. Indeed, he's trying to work out if he has any gay friends he could set Sam up with.

The first time Clint Barton saw the Falcon fly, his pupils blew so wide with lust, Steve actually thought he had fallen for Sam Wilson at first sight.

"Oh, they'd be so cute together. I didn't know Clint was gay."

Natasha, Sharon and Maria disabused him with so much giggling that Steve felt like he'd been trapped with a troupe of six-year-old girls. (Apparently they all had, er, supporting evidence that Barton was definitely NOT GAY).

"So why is he looking at Sam like that, then?" Steve crossed his arms over his chest, feeling suddenly defensive. It was the giggling. Terrifying.

"He'd look at anyone with wings like that," Natasha replied. "You know how he's always begging Thor or Tony for lifts?"

"Oh," Steve looked back at Barton's face, at his open-mouthed, wistful gaze as he watched Sam do graceful swoops and dives. "He has a thing about flying?"

"Why do you think I always let him fly the Quinjet and I man the guns? Even though he's a way better shot than I am?"

"I let him pilot the Helicarrier once. He was very grateful," Maria giggled with a reminiscent expression.

Steve was NOT GOING TO ASK.

"And he really doesn't need to always jump off buildings," Sharon pointed out. "His code name is Hawkeye for a reason. He told me a story once about how in part of his circus act when he was a kid, he used to fire off arrows and throw knives while doing a trapeze routine."

"I haven't heard that story," Natasha looked at Sharon interestedly. Sharon blushed slightly.

"It was – really interesting. He, uh, demonstrated some of the flips and jumps he can do. He's very flexible."

All three women started giggling again. Steve had an almost uncontrollable urge to stick his fingers in his ears and start singing Lalalalala I can't hear you.

Sam came in to land, flaring his wings dramatically before sticking a perfect landing and folding them away. "Great job, Stark!" he shouted across the rooftop, giving Tony a thumbs-up. Tony had been following Sam around in the Iron Man suit, just in case the new wings he'd built for the Falcon malfunctioned and he had to catch.

Clint got to Sam first, and the tall veteran cocked an eyebrow at the slightly shorter, stockier blond man who stopped dead in front of him. His eyes fell on the bow across Clint's back. "You must be Hawkeye. I've heard a lot about you."

"Please," Clint begged quite unashamedly, "I will sell you my soul if you teach me how to fly with a pair of those."

Sam grinned, extending his hand to shake. "I don't want your soul, Barton. I'm quite happy to teach you. Maybe you can give me a few archery lessons."

"You got a deal!"

"Stark," Sam shouted, "did you make more than one of these wingsets?"

"Of course I did," Iron Man's mechanical voice responded from a speaker on the Tower roof. "There's a spare in my workshop."

Clint shook his head. "Not yet. We need to get Tony to reengineer it so I can fit my arrow quiver in underneath."

"I can manage that, Legolas," Tony responded through the speaker. "Give me until tomorrow morning."

"The Hawk and the Falcon," Clint said, high-fiving Sam, "We're gonna be the best team ever!"

Steve chanced a look at the three women. All three of them had gone pale. And then Natasha turned on Steve, her cat-green eyes narrowing ominously.

"Rogers. This. Is All. Your. Fault."

He didn't think about it. Just ran for the edge of the roof and jumped off, shouting "Tony, I need a lift!"

Later, they all ribbed him about being so scared of Natasha he jumped off Avengers Tower. He tried to accept the jokes with good grace because he didn't want to admit that he was in fact so turned on he knew he wouldn't be able to hide his arousal. And he really didn't think he could bear being the subject of those schoolgirl giggles.

It was when Clint's eyes met his, amused and knowing, as he leaned on the back of the couch whispering in Maria's ear, that Steve realised he was already screwed. Fucking Hawkeye.

Maria giggled. Across the room, Sharon and Natasha looked up.

Steve ran for the door.

Author's Note: Poor Steve. He's doomed. DOOMED, I tell you.

So did I give you a laugh? Even a little smile? The thought of Clint swooping around the sky with his bow and arrows cracked me up – no one would ever call him anything but Cupid again, right?

Comments are always appreciated, so please leave me one!