Dumpster || hawkdevil

eleven

Once, Matt used to be able to see the light, but for years now it had been utterly dark.

But as he tightened his grip on the man sleeping next to him, Matt had found a new meaning to "seeing the light."

For he could see the light. He could feel the love.

All from this stupid, sarcastic, and the hell of the guy that was lying naked next to him, fast asleep.

Yes, he could see the light that was in Clint Barton, that is Clint Barton. He was happiness, and he was love, and he was everything Matt was lacking, and everything Matt didn't know he ever wanted, or even needed.

He loved him, he loved every last bit of him.

Despite whatever he looked like, because as if Matt could ever imagine, he knew he was absolutely beautiful on the inside. And frankly, he had a rather nice (that's an understatement, it was perfect) body.

Matt felt his hand moved to Clints face, around his short, but wide face, strong jawline, and big nose.

And he grinned as another hand covered his own.

Oh there was no denying it, he was head over heels for Clint Barton.