𝚃𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝙳𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚂𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚍

ʜᴀᴡᴋ ᴍᴇᴇᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: It's Clint's turn to come face to face with a member of the New Avengers. Unfortunately for him, it's hard to argue with a lawyer.

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Clint was angry. So damn angry he was almost seeing red.

This was supposed to be their chance to return home dammit! He was supposed to see Laura and the kids again.

But Stark had to go and ruin that like the selfish bastard he is.

Now they were confined to the Compound, Laura wasn't taking his calls, Nat was quiet since she had a run-in with Jones, Wanda had been beside herself since fucking Loki and now Steve hadn't said much when he got back from the med bay after getting shot. He wouldn't tell them who did it but it was probably fucking Stark.

It was always him.

The archer was heading to the communal gym to try and beat some of his frustration out but the universe was conspiring against him since he found Stark in there sparring with that Daredevil guy.

For a moment Clint's gaze focused on Stark's chest. He was shirtless at the moment and the arc reactor shone brightly. There were long, curved scars that stretched to either side of it on his chest.

He shook his head after a moment. Why would he care about Stark getting the thing back? He probably did something stupid in his lab that resulted in needing it again.

He sneered at the two who were focused on their spar. Okay, sure, admittedly Stark was light on his feet and more skilled than most (like Nat and Steve) gave him credit for. Guy had some training from somewhere.

He was distracted from his thoughts when the two stopped suddenly.

"Think that's enough for now," Daredevil said. "I don't want Cho to castrate me because I push you too hard."

Stark laughed from where he was bent over, catching his breath. "Yeah," he huffed. "Why the hell are all the women in our lives terrifying?"

Daredevil grinned before suddenly looking straight over at Clint. How the guy saw anything with that mask on was a mystery.

"Can I help you?" he asked politely.

Stark looked over as well. That just reminded Clint of why he was mad in the first place and he scowled.

"Don't you have a private gym in the West Wing or something?" he spat, making his way over to the punching bags as he wrapped his hands. He didn't have his bow so he couldn't shoot to take the edge off. Another thing Stark took from him.

He could practically feel their gaze on him.

"We do but you're dead wrong if you think I'm going in there while Valkyrie and Jess are drunk and sparring," Stark said.

Both men shuddered.

"Besides, we're done. So the place is all yours." Stark climbed out of the ring and Daredevil followed him.

Clint scoffed. "Whatever." He focused on the punching bag, imagining that it was Stark's smug face.

He could still hear them in the background and the friendly bantering between them drove him mad.

"Whose turn is it to bring snacks for movie night?" Stark asked.

"Hope's," Daredevil answered.

"Which means we're getting great desserts tonight." Clint could almost imagine the fist pump Stark did. He did that when he got excited. It was annoying, how he acted so much like a child.