|He has a thing for archers|
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"Absolutely not." Clint shakes his head, smirking. "I'm not gonna work with him, man."
"Barton." Natasha raised an eyebrow as she leaned against the table behind her. Her expression was annoyed, she herself wasn't happy with the plan they need to follow. Moving to Wakanda? That's alright. Right to the palace? Not so much.
Clint rolls his eyes before rubbing his face in his free hand, his other one tightly gripping his bow. "Really? Why can't I have my room? Why do I need to share a room with the goddamn king of the whole country!?"
"For the love of god.. That's how it is. We need to balance it out enough and well.." Natasha picked up her bag, smirking a bit. "Make sure he doesn't see you naked, buddy." With this, she turns around, walking out of the kitchen, then the whole Avengers tower.
Clint blinks a few times, checking the time. He has five minutes until they go. Five minutes and he didn't pack a single thing.
He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down his anger as he bursts to his room, taking the biggest bag he has and throwing some stuff into it. Pants, shirts, a charger, headphones, arrows (a lot of them), his shampoo and then even more arrows. He picks it up, taking one last look at his room before going out to the bus.
"That's everything you need?" Steve laughed, tilting his head.
"Mh." He handled Steve the bag, watching him put it into the trunk before he entered the bus, noticing the rest of them were already sitting and talking. He passed by Captain Marvel and her group of friends, then Tony and Bruce who were slightly giggling. He bets it was because of the plan.
He finally sat down at the back of the bus, which was completely empty. Stretching his legs out, he closed his eyes, finally letting go of the bow and setting onto the seat next to him. A small "..God.." escaped his lips as he looked up, thinking. At least he's gonna have his own bed, that could be worse. And he's pretty sure a big, luxurious bathroom as well.
"Alright.. everyone's here?" Clint opened his eyes when he heard Fury's voice, getting surprised. He's going too? No way. Why would he? Clint sits up straighter, looking at him.
And a few minutes later they were finally on the road, going.
Clint sighed in relief. Well, atleast he has an empty seat next to him. He stretched his legs out again, looking outside the window. His hands were resting in his lap, slightly fidgeting with the buckle of his belt as well as with the zipper. He couldn't help but feel a anxious. Meeting a king of a country is one thing, but sharing a room with him? That's a completely different level.
A few hours passed as well as some breaks. Clint was sleeping, one leg resting on the seat next to him after he put the bow onto the shelf above his head. His other leg was on the completely different side, making him stay wide open as he rests. He looked calm (Shuri, who's there to make sure they arrive properly and Natasha may or may not be laughing the whole time as they were at the seats on the opposite side of the bus, getting a perfect look at Clint's unusual sleeping position.) and slightly grunting from his sleep.
The dream he had? God, he never had a dream that felt this good. His mind was playing tricks on him, or atleast trying to calm him a bit.
He suddenly woke up, eyes wide, cheeks red, his breathing heavy. He was holding tightly onto his belt the whole time, his legs were spread open which now made his inner thighs feel like they're on fire.
"..Oh fuck.." He wipes his forehead, the words from the dream echoing in his mind. Did he said something out loud. Oh, how he hoped he didn't. He got even redder, looking down at his lap. Another curse was said under his breath as he shook his head.
