#sick!clint

Marvel, Winterhawk

Rating: G Words: 4325 Prompts filled - 

Mandatory Fun Day “I licked it, so it’s mine” @mandatoryfunday

New Clint Barton Bingo - Free space @clintbartonbingo

Summary:

Clint's tired, sick and feverish and can't be held responsible for his actions - right?

Watch Your Aim

+++

“Where’s Barton?” Natasha Romanoff directed her inquiry at a new-looking agent working on a computer.

“Uh... where else? His nest.” He gestured up and Natasha followed his gaze. Indeed, Clint Barton was perched in the rafters, doing what looked like target practice. They watched him take aim, squint his eyes closed and... his head bobbed forward, shoulders folding in. “Fuck.”

She just barely heard him whisper the curse word. The young woman turned on her heel and began her journey up.

***

“Clint.”

The young man started and nearly lost his balance. He steadied himself and rolled his eyes at her grin. “Dot fuddy.”

“Hey,” she said, eyebrows furrowing in suspicion. “Are you sick?”

“Doe.” He tried to duck out of the way when Natasha's hand reached out, aiming for his forehead, but he ended up sneezing instead. “Hh’KNX! Hehh! Het’SHHT!”

“Bless you,” she said, hand tightening around his jacket sleeve and steadying him. “You feel warm.”

“H-hang od,” Clint managed to tell her before his eyes glossed over. “Hahhh... hat’XXT!”

Natasha shook her head. “You’re coming down right now.”

“Bud Datasha—”

She glared at him and as if by magic, his mouth closed again.

+++