#✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton)

[normaltothemax]

@dramatisperscnae from here

He’s being followed. Frankly, he’s a little surprised by it. He’d thought Tim was over this, by now. Had thought they’d moved past him feeling a need to follow Clint around as Robin after his little shovel talk. But what’s weirder than that? Tim’s doing a piss poor job of it.

Okay, that’s not fair of him. Tim’s doing a pretty decent job, but it’s not the level of sneaking Clint’s used to getting from him. That, combined with the different style of movements and…new costume? Yeah, it’s setting off all kinds of alarm bells in Clint’s head. But Dick hasn’t mentioned a new Robin, so it has to be Tim, right?

For now, he doesn’t call him out on it. Goes about his business and waits for Tim to make first contact to find out what he wants. The voice, when he eventually hears it, throws him off completely.

Because that’s not Tim.

Brows furrowed, he frowns up at the kid on the fire escape. For about half a second, Clint considers fucking with him. Given that he doesn’t know jack about this kid, though—and considering the kid might not know anything about him—he decides against it. “Nah. Lost something the other night. Friend of mine said to retrace my steps, so.” He shrugs, keeps an eye on the kid while he continues his search. “The costume’s new. What happened there? Bats run out of money before he got to the pants?”

#dramatisperscnae #✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton)

[normaltothemax]

Dissociation starters “Okay, I’ll be here.” ((For Clint from Tim))

He’d had a panic attack. A bad one. One the likes of which he hadn’t dealt with since the immediate aftermath of Loki. After the shaking and the wheezing and the tears had stopped, he just…hadn’t gotten back up off of the floor. Had instead zoned right out and just never zoned back in.

Now, Clint couldn’t remember what’d triggered him in the first place, could barely remember what day it was. He felt…floaty. Untethered. Like he was a boat, drifting off to sea. Or maybe a balloon, drifting higher and higher into the clouds. He wasn’t all there, was the point. A third party watching his own body just sit there, still and quiet—two qualifiers that very rarely applied to Clint.

A voice spoke (he was pretty sure it was a voice, at least), but Clint didn’t know what was said. His aids were out, sitting on the nightstand in the bedroom. The words were just a muffled sound coming from far, far away. He blinked, the action feeling like it took ages to complete, noted a blob of colour (a person probably; he should’ve been more concerned about that, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care all that much) in the corner of his eye, but didn’t bother to look away from the wall across the room. He couldn’t, even if he’d wanted to.

After all, he wasn’t really there.

@arobinwithoutbatman (x)

#arobinwithoutbatman #✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton) #✦ meme reply: clint barton #tw: dissociation

[normaltothemax]

@dramatisperscnae from here

A small part of him is aware that he shouldn’t just be sitting around Dick’s apartment in only a towel. He’s not stupid or socially-inept, he’s aware that he should at least have some pants on. But in his defense, the notification he’s gotten on his phone has sort of fucked with his head.

He’d gotten out of the shower, had been on his way to get dressed, when he’d made the mistake of checking his phone. There’d been just one message waiting for him, a text from Coulson, the gist of it being: Natasha’s gone.

Off comms, complete radio silence, slipped her trackers, no contact whatsoever. She’s out in Turkey on her first solo mission, and has missed three check-ins. Not one, not two, three, and Clint’s only just finding out about it now. The running theory of the higher-ups is that the past several months have just been one long con. That she’d been working to gain their trust before running back to the Red Room to spill all the information she’s learned.

But she hasn’t.

Clint knows she hasn’t.

She’d been looking for a way out. Had been ready and waiting for Clint to kill her, when he’d found her all that time ago. That’s the whole reason he’d brought her in in the first place. Something’s gone wrong, and he and Coulson know it. Coulson’s trying to convince Fury of it, too, but they’ve yet to get the green light to go look for her.

Something hitting him finally pulls him from his thoughts, makes him look up from his phone in time to see a tennis ball bouncing away. Oh. Right. He’s in Dick’s apartment. Sorry, he signs back after placing his phone in his lap. I’ll go do that.

#dramatisperscnae #✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton) #sorry. i had an idea and made it sad

[normaltothemax]

Pinned against a wall prompts [ KISS ]: sender pins receiver against the wall and kisses them passionately. [dick @ clint owo]

He did something stupid. Again. It was stupid and reckless and he just about killed himself out in the field and he knows someone’s going to rip him a new asshole for it. Whether that’s Natasha or Dick or Coulson (now that they’re back on speaking terms) or literally anyone else that knows him. Someone’s going to tear into him because he just took a running jump off the roof of a skyscraper with no warning. No grappling arrows left, no safety net, just the knowledge that he couldn’t stay up there any longer (considering he wanted to not have all his limbs torn off by the robot-alien-thingys that’d been swarming) and that Tony was in the area and would (probably) catch him.

Which he did.

At the last second.

Thank god.

That doesn’t make the jump any less stupid, though, he knows that. Which might be why he cringes when he sees Nightwing stalking towards him. Shit. He didn’t realize Dick had been close by, thought he’d at least have a bit more time to come up with some sort of explanation other than “it seemed like a good idea, at the time.”

He’s unsurprised when he’s slammed into a nearby brick wall, half-expects to get punched for that stunt. So he’s completely taken off guard when, instead, he’s kissed.

Oh.

Okay, sure, why not. He’s glad to see Dick too. Is happy to kiss him back just as desperately, just as passionately, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. He’s flushed, breathless, barely registering someone (probably Tony) wolf whistling through the comms, when Dick eventually pulls back enough to let them breathe again. Not a single coherent thought in his brain. It’s all white noise. It takes him a full minute before he’s able to speak, and when he does, it’s not very eloquent.

“What?”

@dramatisperscnae (x)

#dramatisperscnae #✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton) #✦ meme reply: clint barton #clint's like “once again i am back on my bullshit” #god he's such an idiot i hate him (affectionate)

[normaltothemax]

@dramatisperscnae from here

Clint loves sparring with Dick. It’s fun. Almost like a dance, between the two of them. It’s incredibly similar to sparring with Natasha, but with completely different undertones and a lot less of his back hitting the floor. He’s grinning as he attacks and blocks, breathless laughter slipping out every now and again, both of them continuously trying to get the drop on the other and catch them off guard.

And then he does.

Gets Dick thrown against a wall, only a second behind him, there in a blink to pin his wrists to it. Clint’s breathing heavily—Dick puts up a good fight; that’s part of what makes it so fun—as he grins down at him, chest heaving. How long have they been going at it for?

Now what?

Well, Clint can think of several things they could do now. Eyes unintentionally dart down to Dick’s lips as he wets his own, before drifting back to meet his gaze. “Well, now I’ve got you right where I want you. I win. Admit defeat, Grayson, and maybe I’ll let you off easy.”

#dramatisperscnae #✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton) #clint has a dirty dirty mind #gotta spritz this man with water i stg #✦ queued

[normaltothemax]

🎀 - to braid / brush your muse’s hair . [let dick play with clint's hair 2023]

He might just fall asleep like this. Laying on the couch, his head in Dick’s lap, fingers combing through his hair (it’s getting longer, he’ll have to cut it, soon). Hell, his eyes are already closed; he’s halfway there already. He’s practically purring, stretched out languidly on the cushions, like a cat basking in a spot of sun.

A small smile graces his lips—he stopped paying attention to the movie a while ago, knows it’s still playing in the background, but has been letting his mind drift. Wander. It’s been a while since he’s been able to drop his guard like this. Since he’s been able to be anything less than hyperaware of his surroundings. So this? This is nice. Clint likes this.

There’s a soft buzzing in the back of his mind, thoughts drifting away before they have time to fully form. He hums, shivers as the scratch of nails gets added into the mix. He’s melting, feels all loose and gooey. Putty in Dick’s very capable hands. Forget torture; Clint would probably tell him anything, right about now. Just so long as he keeps doing this.

@dramatisperscnae (x)

#dramatisperscnae #✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton) #✦ meme reply: clint barton #have one (1) very pleased meow meow #cat clint. likes to be pet and hiding in the vents

[normaltothemax]

'Look out your window' And outside of Clint's window? Robin is there, perched on the edge of a fire escape, cheeky grin spread across a young face as he waved. "Hi!" He chirped. "I hear you've charmed Nightwing, I'm glad, he deserves some happiness. Just a fair warning: hurt him and I will destroy you, digitally and physically." -arobinwithoutbatman ((I am so sorry for him, he's a little protective of his brother. But also hello! I've been seeing you on my dash a lot! Your threads with dramatisperscnae are a delight to read))

He’d noticed him there a minute or so ago. Had caught a flash of colour out of the corner of his eye when he’d initially dropped down to the fire escape. Instead of addressing him, though, Clint just flips the page of his book and pretends to keep on reading. Kid’s there for a reason, hasn’t announced himself yet, might as well let him do things at his own pace.

Assuming he’s not there to just watch Clint like a mini creeper.

His phone chirps with a new text, instructions to look out his window, and he raises a brow. How the hell did this kid get his number? It’s possible that Dick gave it to him, but he’s not sure why that might’ve occurred. However it happened, he looks out the window and meets the kid’s eyes.

The costume’s a dead giveaway—Robin. The little brother; Tim. Timmy. Clint will do him the favour of pretending like he doesn’t know who the kid beneath the mask is, if only because it’ll probably save himself a lot of trouble in the long run. Mostly, though, he’s keeping his mouth shut to keep the kid from freaking out and bolting.

He doesn’t even get a word in before he’s being given a shovel talk, and he can’t stop his lips from twitching in amusement. It’s not that he doesn’t believe him—he’s heard about Tim and tech, he’s sure the kid’ll make good on his promise if he feels the need to—it’s just funny coming from the mouth of a twelve-year-old playing superhero. (And boy oh boy does Clint have opinions about that. He has to shut down that line of thinking quickly before he works himself up over the fact that kids have no place out on the field.)

“Noted.” He marks his page and sets the book aside, leaning back in his seat to cross his arms. “That all you came here to say? Or did you want to come inside? I make a mean hot chocolate.” By which he means he mixes the hot chocolate powder with warm milk, not water, and adds copious amounts of marshmallows.

@arobinwithoutbatman

#arobinwithoutbatman #✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton) #eeeeeeep hello! thank you so much! #i've seen you around too! you guys have some good stuff going! #don't even worry about tim clint finds this hilarious #also im not actually sure how old he is in these threads #but even if he's 16 or whatever clint is still going to call him 12 #“no you are a small child end of story” #im not overly familiar with dc but if he's regular robin i figure he's probably still a kid

[normaltothemax]

@dramatisperscnae

He’s back in Loki’s clutches. Maybe he never left.

Enthralled by the scepter, Clint has no choice but to obey. He has no desires but to obey. So when Loki puts Dick in front of him, trails his fingers over his cheek and whispers in his ear, kill him, Clint doesn’t hesitate, no matter how wrong it feels. Because there’s nothing else that matters, nothing other than bending to Loki’s whims. Nothing other than pleasing his king.

It won’t be easy, he knows that; Dick has a lot of training, can keep up with Clint no problem in a sparring match. But Clint has his orders and he will obey, no matter what it might cost him.

He attacks. It feels familiar and foreign all at once. Similar to their spars and yet, nothing at all like them. Clint’s fighting to kill, this time, and there’s no holding back, no tapping out. Dick’s protests fall on (metaphorically) deaf ears. Somehow, after what feels like a lifetime, he manages to get Dick on his back on the ground, manages to get his hands around his throat and starts to squeeze…

He wakes with a start, jolting upright. The knife he’s taken to sleeping with under his pillow is already in his hand as he gasps for air. Something woke him, he’s not sure what, until he sees Dick beside him, sitting up with him. His lips move, he’s saying something, but it doesn’t register in Clint’s sleep-addled mind. He doesn’t realize he’s awake.

He has his orders.

He attacks.

#dramatisperscnae #✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton) #✦ closed starter: clint barton

[normaltothemax]

@dramatisperscnae from here

SHIELD doesn’t normally meddle in the regular, boring human affairs that can be taken care of by the cops. Petty crime and drug dealers? Isn’t going to ping on their radar. But drug dealers selling shit that’s rumored to give its users superhuman abilities? Yeah, SHIELD was always going to be all over that.

He doesn’t actually need help on this one. It’s just a recon mission, nothing is anticipated to go down. But Clint likes having Dick with him. Likes having an extra set of eyes, a friend (keyword being friend) who knows how to be a part of a stakeout. Someone who gets it.

It’s a comfortable silence until some of the guys he’s watching start looking over at them. There’s a bit too much of that, the glances and then talking (not that he can hear what they’re saying), and Clint worries he’s about to be made, so he does something stupid: he panics. There’s a “shit!” and a “sorry about this” and a “follow my lead” and then he’s planting one on Dick, pressing him into the wall and kissing him like his life depends on it.

Which, well, it very well might.

For a moment, he thinks Dick might push him away. That he might even get punched, and he’d definitely deserve it. But then hands are tightening in his shirt and Dick’s kissing him back and…

It’s everything he’s wanted for so long.

It hurts worse than a bullet to the gut.

He’s breathing heavily by the time he breaks the kiss, cheeks flushed. Dick’s a bit red in the face too, and a small part of him preens, having had that effect on him. Mostly, though, he feels concerned.

Because Dick’s shaking, his voice wavering just the slightest bit.

Clint fucked up.

He’s got one hand braced against the wall beside Dick’s head, the other curled around his hip. Stays where he is, for the moment, keeping up the act, just in case. Glances out of the corner of his eye to check on the dealers. They’re no longer paying them any attention, which is exactly what he’d wanted, so he turns his attention back to Dick.

His cheeks burn, and he hopes he isn’t getting even more red. “Y-yeah, uh. Sorry. Public displays of affection.” He clears his throat, does his best not to look back down at Dick’s lips. “People don’t like looking at ‘em. Makes them uncomfortable, so uh…” Natasha taught him that on their first mission together. Apparently, she’d been right.

“Are you okay?” There’s only concern, now, because he knows he fucked up by kissing him, he’s just not sure how badly.

#dramatisperscnae #✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton) #yeeessssss

[normaltothemax]

[heat] - It's hot, and sender/receiver notices how the other's clothes are sticking in all the right places [because I can't not torment Clint with Dick being pretty >w>]

It’s hot. Sweltering. They’re stuck in this damn warehouse with no AC, wearing less than comfortable monkey suits—Dick had looked fantastic in his, Clint more like a scraggly teenager heading to prom—sweating their balls off. Honestly, the nerve of these guys. Who the hell kidnaps a grown man from the middle of a gala (unintentionally getting themselves a two-for-one special, as Clint wasn’t about to let Dick go off without him)? They couldn’t have waited until they were alone? Wearing something more comfortable?

Clint had escaped his bonds easily enough, took out the few goons in the room (he doesn’t really have a secret identity to protect, and SHIELD can clean up later, if necessary). Clint’s red-faced and panting by the end of it from the heat alone, probably looks like a steamed hot dog, and Dick…

Maybe Clint should start going to church, because he clearly needs Jesus.

Dick’s managed to free himself as well, now that they’re not being watched. He’s sweating, previously styled hair plastered to his forehead, has apparently decided to lose his suit jacket (probably a smart idea). The white shirt’s a bit damp, sticking in all the right places, showing off very lickable, well-defined muscles. He’s even got his sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms.

Clint’s knees go weak.

Dick doesn’t seem to notice, strides past him saying…something that he doesn’t catch because his hearing aid got knocked out back at the gala. Also because he’s too busy staring at Dick’s shoulders. At his ass. It’s like a fucking work of art. Jesus.

Clint idly thinks there must be a special level of hell reserved for people like himself.

Maybe he’s already in it.

The door’s locked. Blocked with something, probably, seeing how Clint couldn’t get it open. He doesn’t stop Dick from trying, though. Just watches him like the horny bastard he apparently is. “Can’t hear whatever you’re saying,” he eventually manages to get out, probably a bit louder than necessary. “Lost my aid.”

@dramatisperscnae (x)

#dramatisperscnae #✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton) #✦ meme reply: clint barton #tw: kidnapping #feel free to reply to this bc my guy is DROOLING lol

[normaltothemax]

"Is that...a bootprint?" [dick @ clint >w>]

“I fell.” A beat. “On a boot.” He looks down at the bruises forming beneath the bandages of his barely-wrapped torso, before back up at Dick. “Two boots.” Another glance down. “Okay, a bunch of boots. Technically, I think they were Skechers.” Does it really matter what type of shoe he’d been stomped on and kicked with?

Yes. Yes it does.

He goes back to wrapping his ribcage with some difficulty (it also handily gives him an excuse to not make eye contact). “It’s not a big deal, Dick. You can stop making that face.” The one with all the concern and the puppy-dog eyes. The one that makes something shift uncomfortably, guiltily, inside of him. The one that Clint wants to fix, with the little crease between his eyebrows that he just wants to smooth away.

Get ahold of yourself, Barton.

“Haven’t you noticed, yet? I’m a walking, talking disaster. It’s not the last time something like this’ll happen, and it’s far from the worst I’ve ever had.” He knows that doesn’t make it better, that it’s not something that would sooth his concerns if their roles were reversed. Deflecting is a habit at this point, though. He’s not used to people caring about his well-being, not since he’d been a kid that’d still thought the world of his big brother. People actually giving a shit, people like Dick, like Coulson…it feels like it gives him hives. Leaves him itchy and uncomfortable. Leaves him feeling wrong-footed. He just doesn’t know what to do with it.

@dramatisperscnae (x)

#dramatisperscnae #✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton) #✦ meme reply: clint barton #tw: injury #'i fell' #dont you just wanna rattle him

[normaltothemax]

"Hi Clint. Hi Avengers." That... sure is Robin appearing from nowhere and walking out of the kitchen area carrying snack foods. When, why and how did he get here?

Clint was the only one, aside from Natasha (it took a hell of a lot more than that to catch her off guard, and she probably knew he was there the entire time, anyway), not visibly shocked and/or immediately put on guard by Robin’s sudden appearance. Jesus, this kid. He was gonna get himself shot, one of these days. “Kid,” Clint sighed, before anyone else got the chance to speak and demand to know who he was, what he was doing here, and how he’d gotten in. “You know you can just call me, if you wanna hang out, right? You don’t have to scare the pants off the Avengers.” He suspected that was part of the fun of it, but really, Tim should know better.

Oh, great, and now Clint was getting Looks. Awesome.

@arobinwithoutbatman

#arobinwithoutbatman #✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton) #✦ answered: clint barton #tim why. tim no. clint has a cellphone for a reason tim.

[normaltothemax]

Rating and answering invasive questions △ You ever just have the desire to reach out and grab some of that Grayson ass, Barton? Is it as firm as it looks?

"One." Seriously, these are just way too easy. "Abso-fuckin'-lutely, I do." What, is he supposed to be ashamed of that? "It's even better than it looks. Honestly, I feel bad for everyone who doesn't get to touch it on a regular basis. I'll chop off their hands if they try, but I understand the urge."

Anonymous (x)

#✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton) #✦ answered: clint barton #✦ anonymous #jason's over there having a rough time #meanwhile clint is just like 'wow throw me some hard ones'

[normaltothemax]

"So, uh..." was he overstepping? He watched the man (Dick?) leave. TK's eyebrows lifted a little, hands on his hips (definitely being a gossip), "You guys seem pretty close." (I don't even know, here is all I had kdsjfldsjflksj I don't even know if they could possibly overlap. my knowledge is 0%. here i am though)

Clint watched Dick as he left, literal (figurative) hearts in his eyes. Not exactly trying to hide just how gone he was on the other man. “Yeah.” Was that a dreamy sigh from where he was leaning, arms crossed, against the doorframe? It just might’ve been. He couldn’t stop grinning. Shameless. “He’s great. Like, the best. Dunno what he sees in me, but fuck if I’m gonna complain about it.” Because Clint was selfish, like that. Greedy. He would happily take anything and everything Dick was willing to give him, no take-backs. Realizing he was blocking the doorway, he stepped back, gestured for TK to come in. “Dick Grayson, man. What the fuck even is my life?” Ask him about it, TK. Go on, ask.

@parameddic

#parameddic #✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton) #✦ answered: clint barton #go on and ask tk let him gush about his bf #he's so fucking in love it's ridiculous

[normaltothemax]

@dramatisperscnae from here

He’s managed to slip the best of the photos into his pocket by the time Dick makes his way over. Yeah, he’s definitely keeping it. Definitely making copies of some sort.

With a grin that’s far too wide to be innocent, he holds his mug up a little higher, as if showing it off to Dick. “A coffee.”

#dramatisperscnae #✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton)

[normaltothemax]

Robin is back. For once, he actually looks a little twitchy, like the bird he was named for. "Hey Clint. Can I ask a personal favour? Do you..." He's shifting, truly a nervous teenager under the traffic light colours. "Could you help me practice my sign language? Please?"

The kid in his window is just radiating anxiety. For a second, when he first lays eyes on Robin, Clint is on high alert, worried something’s wrong. A bit of tension drains out of him when he realizes Tim is more twitchy and nervous than alarmed or panicked. Alright, so probably no one’s dying or dead, that’s always good.

A brow lifts. A personal favour, huh? Alright, he’s piqued Clint’s interest. What sort of personal favour could Robin be asking for from Hawkeye. He blinks in surprise when the request is voiced. Well. ASL lessons hadn’t been on his “What Robin Wants From Him” Bingo card, but it’s better than some of the alternatives. Tim’s a good kid, but there was still a small part of Clint that worried he was going to ask for something completely ridiculous, like for Clint to buy him alcohol, or something.

“Yeah,” he says immediately. “Of course. Were you wanting to come in now, or are you headed out on patrol?” A beat. “Also, you know you don’t always have to come here as Robin, right? I know who you are, you can totally come as a civilian, if you want.”

@arobinwithoutbatman

#arobinwithoutbatman #✦ ic: clint barton #✦ verse: fresh faced rookie (clint barton) #✦ answered: clint barton