#the perch

Sam rolled his eyes.  “Let’s stick with perch shall we?”

“We can nest later… eh?” Clint said, the innuendo coated on heavily to his words.  Sam was pretty sure if he was sitting closer, Clint would have nudged him.

Sam was used to Clint’s flirting.  The guy flirted with everyone.  It seemed to be second nature to him.  Like breathing.  Or loosing an arrow.  He flirted with Nat like it was the only language the two of them knew.  He flirted with Tony to get him to come fix his stuff.  He flirted with Bruce to make him blush.  He even flirted with the girls at the Starbucks on the ground floor of the Tower to get free refills on his coffee.

Sam got it.  He really did.  He liked flirting himself.  He was maybe a little more discerning about whom he targeted.  But only a little.  He just wished that Clint realized there was a time and place.  Or at least for him to occasionally mean it.

“I’m not sure falcons and hawks are biologically compatible, Clint,” Sam said.  Tony and Natasha had reached the target and now the comms were noisy with the chatter of small talk as they eased them into a false sense of security.

“Neither are hawks and spiders but I still hit that. Hey-yo!” Clint joked, holding up his hand for a high-five.  Sam didn't look at him as he cocked his eyebrow questioningly.  As the realization of what Clint just said dawned on the archer he dropped his hand again.  “Don't tell Nat I just said that.”

Sam chuckled.  “We’ll see,” he said.  “I might save it, just in case.”

“Sam…” Clint whined, before sitting up straight and leaning forward a little.  For a moment, Sam thought he was going ass over head off the side of the building.  “Northeast corner.  See the guy with the bag?”

Sam switched his focus and tapped the button on the side of his visor.  “Oh yeah, definite HYDRA,” Sam said.  “You got eyes on him, Cap?”

“Yeah, I see him.  We’ll keep watch.  Just stay alert,” Steve responded.

“We two can sure do that,” Clint said.  “Get it, Sam?  Toucan?”

Sam stifled a laugh.  “You’re an idiot.”

“I like to think of it as charming,” Clint replied.

Sam’s eyes flicked to the archer.  He was smiling and for just a brief second, Sam wondered if the flirting was genuine.  Clint was cute if not a complete disaster of a human being.  He was fun to be around even if he didn’t seem to take things seriously.  Plus those arms.  Sam couldn’t pretend it wouldn’t be nice to have those arms wrapped around him. To dig his fingers into those biceps.

He pushed it away.  For starters, this was pretty far from the appropriate time and place to be considering doing - well anything - with Clint Barton.  Besides, it was just him.  Sam wasn’t even 100% sure Clint was into guys.  He’d only ever seen him with women.

Sam flicked his eyes back to the street.  Tony and Natasha had moved inside and the HYDRA goon on the corner had moved into a shadowed alcove.  Clint pulled an arrow out of his quiver and notched it.  Sam gazed over the street, the targeting system cataloging every person.  Nothing stood out as being out of the ordinary apart of HYDRA on the corner though.

“Did you choose a bird-of-prey as your call sign for the same reason as me, Sam?”  Clint asked, without looking over.

Sam knew it was going to be a mistake to engage.  He knew it was going to make him groan and roll his eyes.  He knew it.  But still, he couldn’t stop himself.  He needed the punchline.  He needed to hear the cringe-worthy piece of filth that Clint had most likely been sitting on for a while now.  “I got my callsign because the wings were called the Falcon. I had nothing to do with it.  But go on, tell me why you chose a bird-of-prey.”

Clint smirked.  “Because I like being on my knees.”

How Sam managed to not crack and burst out laughing then he couldn’t quite say.  He wanted to laugh.  Maybe if he wasn’t in full work mode he might have.  Or maybe it was just that he knew exactly what to say to top it.  “Maybe we should just call you the swallow?”  He deadpanned.

Clint completely lost it laughing.  “That was a good one.”

“Alright, alright.  Calm down, bird brain.  I know I’m hilarious.”  Sam said.

“Yeah, Sam.  You quack me up.”  Clint teased.

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head a little.  “Come on now, focus up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Clint said.  “I don’t like that goon.  What’s he even doing there?” 

Sam turned his sights back to the HYDRA agent.  “Yeah, me either.  Tony and Nat are still chattering though.  So I guess we better sit tight until someone says otherwise.”

“Or I could just -”  He mimed loosing an arrow.

Sam seriously considered it for a moment.  If nothing else, it would force everyone’s hand.  But reason got the better of him.  “Better not.  Gonna have to sit tight a little longer.”

“Aww, you say that like it’s a bad thing.  I like being up here with you,” Clint said.

Sam looked at Clint in his peripheral.  Logic told him this was just part of Clint’s little routine.  That he was hamming it up so that things wouldn’t get too serious.  Because if things got too serious this was real and their lives were in danger.  Only, he was sure he heard sincerity in his voice.  Or maybe… maybe he hoped that was what he was hearing.

He pushed that thought aside quickly.  He didn’t have time for a crush on Clint Barton.  His flirting wasn’t even that smooth.  He wasn’t going to get taken in by the harmless dumbass routine Clint so strongly clung to.  Clint was anything but harmless.

“Hey, Clint?  When you…”  He stopped.  He didn’t want to get into this.  Not here.  Here was a terrible place to try and figure out if the smattering of innuendo and annoying puns were just Clint being Clint or if there was more to that.

Besides…

Sam wasn’t sure if he had it in him again if he was going to be totally honest with himself.  He’d done the whole date the guy you served with.  When he’d watched Riley fall, it had felt like Sam had had his heart ripped out and dragged down with him.  It had taken him a long time to get over that.  He still wasn’t totally sure he was.  There were still nights he woke up with his heart racing, feeling helpless and broken because he’d been revisiting it in his dreams.  And the Avengers was like the Air Force on crack.  The fact they’d lost so few felt like dumb luck more than actual skill.  The fact a lot of them were supers definitely saved their lives more than once.  And Clint was not a super.  He worried that starting anything with anyone on the team would just leave him a nervous wreck.  To do that with Clint - the most accident-prone, least super of all of them next to Sam - he might just have another breakdown.

“When I what?” Clint asked, his eyes still fixed on the lurker.

“When you’re up here, do you feel more at peace?” Sam asked, covering the original question with something relatively innocuous.

Clint chewed at his bottom lip.  “Yeah.  I guess.  My head is clearer.  I like seeing everything at once like this.  I feel like I get the picture better.”

“I feel that way about flying,” Sam said.  “But with the added adrenaline rush.”

“Because you’re a fellow bird.  We like being up in the sky,” Clint said, matter-of-factly.

“What about Kiwis?” Sam teased.

“They’re only barely a bird.  They look more like potatoes,” Clint said.  “Besides, I bet they wish they could fly.”

“Well, that does it, if I ever see one, I’ll be taking it for a spin,” Sam joked.

Clint started laughing.  “I’d pay to see that.”

Sam looked over at him again.  That little niggling question of whether Clint’s flirting actually meant something other than him being his usual self.  Sam didn’t like this unsure, shy thing he was doing right now.  Normally if he was interested in someone he just said so.  He didn’t second guess himself like this.  This was not Sam Wilson.

“Clint did you…?”  He started, once again cutting himself off.  This time he internally cursed himself.  If he ever did manage to get this question out, Bucky was now never going to let him live it down.  If Clint was just being Clint, Bucky would rag on him for falling for the archer’s normal routine.  If Clint did genuinely like him, then Bucky would go on about how Sam had gotten all tongue-tied around him.

“Did I what?” Clint asked.

Sam waved him off.  “Nothing.  Never mind.”

“Aww, come on now, Sam,” Clint said turning to look at him.  “Don’t be like that.  You can tell me anything.”

“I was just wondering…” Sam said, but something caught his attention in his peripheral.  The HYDRA guy made a strange gesture and looked up.  Sam followed his eye line and in the building down the road there was a flash and shell tore through the air in the direction of Clint and Sam.

“Wondering what?” Clint asked, still staring directly at Sam.

“Duck!” Sam shouted jumping up and popping the wings from his suit.  There was no way Clint could run from this, but he had the vague notion that if he reacted fast enough he could carry them both to where the shell had originated from.

“That’s a good one!” Clint said, laughing.

“No!  Duck!” Sam said, running full force into Clint.  Clint stumbled and fell back as Sam shoved him over the edge of the building, knocking his bow out of his hand.  For a second Sam knew he had this.  He wasn’t worried at all, even with the sudden orders being barked by Steve in his ear and chaos on the ground below.  He had a grip on Clint and he was supporting his weight fine.

Then the shell hit.  The side of the building blew out, raining fire and stone out into the street.  The sudden change in air pressure along with the blast buffeted Sam, making him dip and his grip slip.

“Fuck!  Shit, Sam!” Clint shouted, scrambling to keep hold.  Sam tried to keep hold of him but with the way Clint squirmed, Sam couldn’t keep hold.  His fingers slipped from around Clint’s forearms and the archer fell.