Twitter Polls Ruin Lives
A quick Monday morning fic for @kangofu-cb - I finally got around to writing it.
—
Clint, sprawled across the couch and trying to catch up on the episodes of Dog Cops he had missed while in the infirmary after the last mission, had been trying to ignore Steve and Steve’s glare.
Clint was a sniper. Clint was a spy. Clint was an assassin. Clint had the ability to focus on one thing and one thing alone and ignore all other distractions for hours.
Steve let out a huge sigh, his seventh in the last twenty-eight minutes, and continued to glare at his phone.
Clint cut his eyes towards Natasha, curled up in the approximately eight square inches of couch he wasn’t occupying, reading a book in German that Clint was pretty sure - his German wasn’t the best - was called The History of the Penis.
Natasha looked up at Clint and arched one perfect eyebrow, silently telling Clint she wasn’t going to ask Steve what was bothering him.
Clint turned his focus back to Dog Cops.
For the next six minutes, he -
Steve sighed again and Clint threw his head back on the couch, closed his eyes, and told himself that he could just get up and go back to his room and watch Dog Cops. He didn’t have to stay out here and be social, or care about whatever it was that had Steve so upset or -
Steve sighed again and Clint honestly didn’t understand why anyone had put the man in USO shows. He was the worst actor ever. Of all time.
“Something bothering you, Cap?” Clint ground out.
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
Clint glared at Natasha when she actually smirked.
They were all very, very familiar with Steve’s passive-aggressive approach to self-help.
“Tell me anyway,” Clint suggested.
“No, it’s nothing,” Steve insisted.
Clint silently counted to five.
“It’s just,” Steve continued, “there’s a Twitter poll.”
Clint groaned and even Natasha rolled her eyes.
“Ignore it,” she advised. “Last week there was one asking who would win in a fight - Clint or me.”
“You, obviously,” Clint said. Why had anyone wasted time making a poll for that?
Natasha nodded in agreement.
“And yet, thirty-five percent of the population thinks you would.”
“Idiots,” Clint grumbled.
“This isn’t that kind of poll,” Steve said.
Clint finally paused Dog Cops and twisted his body around to give Steve his full attention.
“What kind of Twitter poll is it, Cap?”
Steve blushed and Clint couldn’t help but grin.
So it was that kind of poll.
Two months ago there had been a poll about Clint that was that kind of poll. ‘Is Hawkeye a Dom or a sub?’ Clint had let the poll go on for three days before weighing in himself by retweeting the poll and saying that he did prefer to sub, but really he was vers.
The PR teams had not been amused or appreciative of Clint. They also hadn’t bought his excuse of trying to grow goodwill towards the Avengers by interacting with civilians in a non-conflict environment.
“‘Is Captain America a Zaddy, Daddy or Twunk’” Steve read.
“Oh. Yeah. I saw that yesterday,” Clint waved his hand. “Twunk, right?”
“Daddy,” Natasha argued.
“Really?” Clint frowned and considered Steve again. “Just because he’s old?”
Natasha snorted.
“No, Clint, not just because he’s old. Because he wants to take care of everyone and keep them safe and give them all the good things in life.”
That - that was fair, Clint had to admit. Still, there were some things that Clint knew and couldn’t un-see or un-experience. Frankly, things he didn’t want to un-see or un-experience, that moved Steve firmly out of Daddy territory for him.
“I don’t understand what any of those mean,” Steve sighed again. “I’ve tried to google it and everything is just… confusing. I’m not an idiot, but this…” he waved his hand at the phone in exasperation.
“You want Aunty Nat to explain gay stereotypes to you?” Clint asked with a smirk.
Natasha hit him with her book and he glared at her. She glared back and Clint relented.
“Please?” Steve sounded so defeated that Clint was almost tempted to get off the couch and go comfort him. Huh. Maybe he was… kinda Daddy-ish?
“A Zaddy is a next level Daddy,” Natasha launched into it like she was laying out battle plans at a team meeting. “Thor is a Zaddy.”
Clint nodded in enthusiastic agreement.
“Okay, I think I… understand that.”
“Then you’ve got a Daddy - an older man who wants someone to take care of.” And sure, when Natasha put it like that, Clint had to agree that Steve was definitely a Daddy.
“What about… Leather Daddy?” Steve asked and his face was more red than Clint had ever seen it before.
Natasha shrugged.
“Maybe? I could see you as a Leather Daddy.”
“No, I mean, what is it?” Steve asked hastily.
“A Daddy who wears leather and is dominating.”
“Oh. Uh. Sometimes?” Steve said.
Natasha grinned, predatory as hell, as Steve just sat there and gave her all the intel she could ever want.
Clint refrained from groaning, but he did lay his head back down on the couch and close his eyes again.
“Then you’ve got a Bear - bigger guy, kinda hairy. Bucky?”
“No,” Steve said emphatically. “Bucky isn’t very hairy, and he’s started getting waxed regularly.”
“Really?” Natasha asked.
“Yes,” Steve confirmed and Clint made a mental note to maybe give Steve a cyanide capsule or something for the future because Natasha wasn’t even trying to interrogate him and he was spilling everything.
“So no Bears in your life,” Natasha shrugged. “Otters are like Bears, but smaller, thinner, and very hairy.”
“Bruce,” Steve said immediately.
At least that one wasn’t private information.
“Exactly,” Natasha agreed smoothly, and Clint had a weird sense of deja vu because this was just like being back in an interrogation room with Natasha at SHIELD.
“What about… a Twunk?”
“A Twunk is a Hunk and a Twink combined.”
“And those are…?”
“A Twink is skinny, mouthy, sometimes bossy as hell.”
“Oh.” Steve sounded like he was frowning.
Clint opened his eyes and yep, Steve was frowning.
“So… like me, before the serum?” Steve suggested.
“Yes, that’s probably accurate,” Natasha agreed and Clint could hear her absolute joy.
“And a Hunk… is someone very attractive and muscular? Like Clint?” Steve asked.
Clint didn’t need to look at Natasha to know she was smirking.
“Exactly like Clint,” she agreed. “So a Twunk is the combination of those.”
“You really think I’m a Twunk?” Steve asked.
The question had to be directed at Clint. Clint wondered if he could suffocate himself with the couch cushion.
“It’s not a bad thing,” Clint insisted.
“I didn’t think it was. It’s… flattering that you think about me like that. But isn’t Bucky more of a… Twunk than me?”
“Yeah,”Clint had to agree. “Bucky’s the perfect Twunk.”
Natasha snorted in amusement at Clint’s dreamy tone.
“I think I want to be a Leather Daddy,” Steve said, voice decisive.
Clint groaned into the couch and willed himself to stop existing.
“I already have the harness,” Steve continued, as if he wasn’t laying out the strategy for his sex life in the Avengers living room. “Natasha, what else do I need? Can a Leather Daddy have a Twunk and a Hunk as his… do I have to call them my babies? Sugar babies? Leather babies? How does that work?”
And just like that, Clint was up off the couch and halfway out of the room.
“Yeah, I’m out. Gonna go throw myself off the roof now,” Clint announced as he fled.
He was pretty sure he heard both Steve and Natasha laughing at him.
