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Reluctantly awakening from his comfortable slumber, Clint reached across the bed for his boyfriend's body, but he wasn't there. Though disappointed, Clint wasn't shocked. For the past week, T'Challa had been getting up hours earlier than him to work on something in the lab, but he wouldn't tell Clint what. It was probably a new bow or trick arrows, something nice to surprise him with, but Clint wouldn't assume anything.
He flipped himself onto his back and groggily opened his eyes to the light brown ceiling, now illuminated by the sunlight that peeked through the curtains over his window.
Welp, he thought, reaching up to rub his eyes, might as well get up and get today over with.
Clint groaned as he stretched his arms up, his tiredness slipping into confusion when he noticed that his arms were thinner than he remembered. And as he slowly sat up, he also realized that his chest was a bit heavier and softer. Throwing his blanket off in shock at this realization, he understood that there was far more wrong than he realized. Not only were his arms thinner, but they were also softer and cleaner. His thighs were thicker, his waist was thinner, his hair reached his shoulders, and there were two bulbous growths on his chest. He grabbed one of them and his face heated up with how sensitive it was.
"What the fuck?!" he shouted, grabbing his throat with his other hand when he heard how much higher his voice was. "What the hell is-- Tony. TONY! Where the hell are you, you bastard?!"
Clint stormed out of his room, clutching his loose nightshirt over his chest, face flushing even more with every bounce of his breasts. Oh, was he going to kill Tony for this, because of course it was him. Who else would have both the resources and desire to mess with him? He didn't even need a reason to do it, the asshole.... Ohh, he'd better hope that his armor would protect him when Clint found him. He. Was. Dead.
It didn't take long to find him; the fool had the nerve to stick his head out into the hallway when he heard Clint calling him. He even had the audacity to look surprised until Clint shoved him into the wall and grabbed a picture frame off the wall to hold it against his throat.
"What the fuck did you do to me, Stark?!" Clint shouted. "I swear to god, you better turn me back before the hour's over or so help me I will shove this thing so far down your throat I'll put you in the ICU for months!"
Tony looked absolutely bewildered for a few seconds, then his eyes widened in realization and he looked Clint up and down. "Clint?! Don't tell me it's you, Barton."
"Yes, it's me, you dick!" Clint snapped. "And don't fuck with me! I know you did this!"
"No, I didn't! I swear!" Tony claimed, raising his hands in surrender. "I've been training with Cap all morning! Why don't you go after Jackie? She's the one with magic!"
"Go after Jackie for what?" said Avenger asked as she rounded the corner with Cap at her side, guiding her. "And what's with all the screaming?"
Cap's eyes got wider than tea saucers and his mouth dropped open in shock. "What the...? What happened?"
"I don't know!" Tony exclaimed. "All I know is that she ran up to me and started accusing me of making her like this!"
"Do not call me a she!" Clint growled, pressing the frame against his throat. "And I don't know what happened to me! I just woke up like this, boobs and all!"
Jackie's expression turned shocked once she heard Clint's voice, though he saw the tips of her mouth start to raise. "Clint? Is that you? Are... are you a...? "
"Yes!" Clint yelled. "So turn me back now!"
Jackie didn't respond, but her mouth widened into a mischievous and borderline evil grin. Then, she started laughing.
"Oh, oh!" she cackled, leaning on her staff for support. "Oh, this is awesome! This is gold! Oh, how I wish I could see you! Wait until I tell the others! JAN! CAROL! You have to see this! Jan! Carol!" And before anyone could stop her, Jackie ran off calling for her friends. Clint would've loved to run after her and stop her, but he still had Tony pinned against the wall. So he reluctantly pulled the picture frame away from Tony's throat and let him run behind Steve, as though he was afraid Clint was going to attack him again.
"So it wasn't you then?" Clint grumbled, folding his arms.
"No," Tony answered. "Why did you think it was me? You annoy Jackie more than anyone else here!"
Before Clint could answer, someone rounded the same corner Jackie had disappeared behind. To Clint's horror, it was T'Challa. He was looking back in confusion, holding his mask in his hand, so he didn't see Clint yet.
"Would anyone like to tell me why Jackie is running around laughing like a--?" He stopped talking when he turned around and saw Cap, Steve, and Clint. His eyes widened slightly as he looked from Clint to Tony to Steve and back again. Then, he pressed his hand against his eyes and shook his head. Clint could hear him muttering under his breath, "Every day... every day something has to happen..." Then, he lowered his hand enough to reveal his brown eyes and the clear disappointment in them.
"What happened this time and why?" he grumbled. "What did you do to annoy Owl, Clint?"
For some reason, the fact that T'Challa still recognized him was enough to make his anger go away. "Oh, thank god you know who I am, babe. I didn't do anything to Jackie, I promise. She's just crazy, I swear..."
T'Challa narrowed his eyes at Clint. "You and I both know she never messes with anyone unless they did something first. So what did you do?"
"I don't think it was Jackie," Steve finally said. "Clint, the chase with the Masters of Evil last night, remember?"
Clint thought for a moment before the memory of last night hit him and a wave of stupidity and embarrassment hit him like a truck. "Amora... she hit me with a spell before they got away."
Steve nodded and Tony glared hard at Clint, still rubbing his neck. Annoyed, Clint whipped around to face him, Steve, and T'Challa and pointed the picture frame threateningly at him. "Hey, watch the glare! I'm panicking, alright?!"
Strangely, the guys averted their eyes from him and Steve even blushed. T'Challa covered his eyes and shook his head again. He didn't look up at Clint when he spoke again, and this time the disappointment was joined by embarrassed amusement. "Clint, my beloved, perhaps you should look for proper attire, for modesty's sake."
Clint frowned, confused, but when he looked down he saw that his shirt's neckline had dropped to uncover his chest. Horrified, he lifted his shirt over his chest and ran like the Flash back to his room. He slammed the door behind him and dove under the bed covers, mortified beyond belief over what had just happened.
Several minutes later, there was an excited storm of knocking. Still flush with embarrassment, Clint shouted from under the covers, "Go away! No one's allowed in here!"
No response. Then, someone kicked the door open and the covers were torn off Clint's body. Standing over him with expressions of pure excitement were Jackie, Carol, and Jan, all of them holding purses and handbags.
"Well? Is it true? Is he really a girl?" Jackie questioned.
Jan started laughing. "Yeah, it is! Oh, my gosh, you look so cute!"
"So Amora did this?" Carol asked. "She did a good job. You look prettier than I do when I wake up in the morning."
"Shut up! All of you!" Clint growled, trying to pull the cover back over his body.
But Jackie tore the blanket off again determinedly. "Nope, not happening. You are not spending the day hiding away!"
"We're here to cheer you up and get you back outside," Jan said. "Now get up! We have a lot of work to do."
Clint slapped Jan's hand away and jumped off the bed to get away from his female friends who acted more like annoying little sisters. "Go away and leave me alone! You guys are nuts!"
But Jackie blocked the doorway that was his only exit, still smirking that same mischievous smirk. "Not today, Clint." She looked at Jan and Carol. "Get him, girls."
When Clint heard Jan's stingers and Carol's Kree energy charge up, his shoulders sagged and he glared at Jackie thinking, shit. Right before he was tackled to the ground.
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"I can't decide if I should use blue or green," Jan hummed thoughtfully, looking over Clint's enlongated nails. "I mean, blue would match your eyes, but I feel like green might go well with your suit."
Carol paused her task of brushing Clint's hair and looked over Clint's shoulder. "Hmm... I think you should use green."
"Bluish green," Jackie added from the closet. "I always thought Clint's suit would look cooler with light teal accents."
Clint rolled his eyes. "Remind me why I'm letting you guys do this again."
"Because, oh annoying one," Jackie called with a drawl. "If we didn't, you would've locked yourself in your room all day. And since we love you, we'd never let that happen, especially since you and T'Challa have a date tonight! Now tell me, how do you feel about wearing a skirt?"
"No," Clint growled.
"Fine," she sighed. "Carol, what are you doing with his hair?"
"Oh, I'm braiding it," she responded. "Also, I don't think a skirt would look good on him-- no offense," she added in a remorseful undertone.
"None taken," Clint murmured.
Jan picked a pretty shade of teal out from her handbag and scrutinized Clint's nails. "I think you're right, Jackie. A plain light teal would look gorgeous on her nails-- sorry, his." She added that last part upon seeing the beginnings of a glare on Clint's face. "Are you sure you don't want to try any other makeup? Not even a bit of gloss or eye shadow?"
"I'm sure," Clint told her. "The nail polish is more than enough, and I only agreed to that so you would stop holding my wrists down."
"Holding them down is a bit of an exaggeration," Jan argued. "We were holding them so you couldn't hit us."
Clint rolled his eyes again, then Jackie exited the closet with a black pair of leggings, a light purple crop top, and a dark green jacket draped over her arm.
"Okay, I think I have an outfit for you," she said. "Once the nail polish dries, you can try it on."
"How are you blind yet you can pick out a pretty fashionable outfit?" Clint asked as Jan applied the nail polish.
"Just because I can't see the outfits, doesn't mean I don't know what they must look like," Jackie answered. "I've seen them before, and I can feel them, too. I can feel the fabric, how long the sleeves are, how deep the neckline is, etc.."
"Huh," Clint hummed. "Wait, is that leather? Where'd you get a green leather jacket?"
"Oh, it's mine," she admitted. "It's from when I was... y'know. It was my favorite, and it used to have an owl embroidery on the back." She brushed her hand over the back of the jacket thoughtfully. "It'll keep you warm and comfortable tonight."
"What? I can't take your jacket," Clint told her. "Especially if it was your favorite. It's too personal."
Jackie snickered. "Please, I haven't worn this in years. Besides, it's for a special occasion."
Clint quirked an eyebrow at her as she set the clothes beside him. Special occasion? It was just a normal date. It wasn't like they were going to some high-end restaurant or meeting each other's families. He and T'Challa both liked to do mellow things for dates, like going for a walk or cuddling on the couch watching a movie. Tonight, they were supposed to walk around Central Park, but T'Challa would probably change that for Clint's comfort.
After Jan declared the nail polish dry, Carol stuffed the clothes into Clint's arms and shoved him towards the closet.
"Hey, take it easy!" Clint snapped. "Don't shove me, it hurts."
"Let me know what you think, Clint," Jackie said, sitting on the bed. "I hope it's pretty enough, I really want to help make this night perfect for you guys..."
Clint frowned as the closet door closed, thoroughly confused by Jackie's comment, but focused on changing out of his too big nightshirt and boxers and into the outfit Jackie had picked out for him, even being nice enough to include a sports bra and a decent pair of underwear.
"Hurry up!" Jan groaned impatiently.
"Calm down, it's not easy getting all this on!" Clint called back. "These stupid leggings are so tight! I can't even believe they're not tearing."
"Yeah," Carol agreed with a dry chuckle. "Beauty is pain, after all."
Two minutes later, Clint opened the closet door and revealed himself. Carol and Jan immediately gasped and Jackie jumped off the bed in curiosity.
"What? Does he look good? Tell me!" she demanded.
"He looks beautiful!" Jan squealed. "Ooh, T'Challa's gonna swoon!"
"I can't wait for him to see you," Carol agreed. "Once he gets back from patrol, he might just faint when he sees you."
Clint folded his arms and looked away from his fawning teammates. "You guys are overreacting... weirdos."
"You know how pretty you look!" Jan accused. "You know what? You can't hide here anymore! Jackie, open the door!"
"Hold on--" Clint was cut off by Jan grabbing his arm and dragging him out of his room, followed by Jackie and Carol.
Jan dragged him down the hallways, seemingly towards the lounge, but Clint eventually wrenched his arm out of her grasp and stepped away. "That hurt! What the hell, Wasp?"
"I didn't want you to lock yourself in your room again," Jan said. "And don't try to lie to me-- you know full well you would've."
Carol and Jackie nodded in agreement, though they were looking remorseful at the marks on Clint's arm. Suddenly, their ID cards started pinging, and once Clint took his out he saw Cap on it.
"Captain America, Yellowjacket, and Black Panther heading back from patrol," he said. "Ready the painkillers and bandages, we got ambushed on the way back."
Oh, no, Clint thought, worry blossoming at the thought of his boyfriend hurt. "I'll go get the painkillers, I know where they are."
"Clint, wait--" Jackie called, but to no avail. Clint was already at the elevator doors, and as soon as they were open wide enough he dove inside and pressed the button to take him to the lab.
He knew for a fact that T'Challa, Tony, and Hank kept painkillers in each of their sections of the lab, since what they were working on usually failed epically and ended up causing great injury. More often than none, Jackie would end up having to heal them because the failure was so bad they would almost lose a limb. Honestly, it was pretty ridiculous at times. Clint knew where T'Challa's painkillers were, as he often took some for himself, so he'd get them for T'Challa now.
Soon, he got to the lab and hurried over to T'Challa's area, where he would work on new bow or shielding tech. At the moment, there was a welder and a microscope on the desk, but one of the drawers were open and revealed the jar of pain killers. Clint hurried over and grabbed the jar, grimacing as the nail polish smudged onto it.
"Ugh, I hope he won't mind," he murmured. "Whatever, I'd better get back upstairs before--"
He froze. He'd started to turn back towards the elevator and saw more of what was on T'Challa's desk: a small dark blue box, scraps of metal (probably vibranium), the thin and discarded remains of what looked like a heavily shaved down vibranium dagger, tiny unfamiliar tools Clint had never seen before, and a small silverish-purplish ring with eight tiny purple gems inlaid in the metal.
Is that...? Clint wondered, heart racing as he reached for and picked up the ring. The mix of silver and purple was beautiful, and made the tiny gems pop and shine even more. Even though he knew he shouldn't, he slipped the ring over his finger, but Amora's stupid spell had shrunk it substantially, so it just dangled loosely from the base of his finger.
Suddenly, the elevator dinged behind Clint and the doors opened. Clint couldn't bring himself to turn around and face T'Challa-- he just knew it was him-- so he stood still and kept staring at the ring.
"Clint? What are you doing here?" he asked, coughing a bit. "If you are here for the painkillers for us, I promise you we are fine. The Captain thought we would need them after the fight with the Abomination, but-"
"T'Challa..." Clint said, slowly turning to his boyfriend with the ring in hand. "What is this?"
T'Challa's eyes widened and he started to step forward, but quickly grabbed his side in apparent pain and stayed put. "Baast, you were not supposed to see that. It is not ready."
"Were you going to propose?" Clint gasped, remembering Jackie's insistence on making his and T'Challa's date special.
"W-- I... I mean, well...." T'Challa stopped sputtering and sighed, pulling off his mask to face Clint properly. "Alright, the truth is... yes, I was planning to propose to you. I know what you must be thinking: it has only been two years since we started dating, but I know that I love you and I want to spend my life with you. And I knew you would be hesitant about this, which is why I keep talking myself out of asking and delaying the ring's completion, even though Steve and Jackie keep telling me to just ask. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable, I just--"
Clint cut him off by running over and kissing him, tears streaming down his face with overwhelming happiness. He could feel T'Challa wince as he was almost knocked off balance by Clint's tackle. Now that he was crying (damn hormones, how did Jan, Carol, and Jackie deal with it on a daily basis?) he was even more grateful that he'd declined Jan's offer to put makeup on him, so he wouldn't have gotten mascera or powder on T'Challa's face.
When he pulled away, T'Challa's face was extremely flushed but his eyes were focused on Clint's face, trying to judge whether or not his joy was genuine. When he realized that Clint really was happy, he smiled and held Clint's face as gently as he could with his shaking hands. Still, Clint felt the need to verbally confirm what he meant.
"Yes, you jerk," he said, wishing that his voice wasn't so high and feminine and that the tears would stop.
T'Challa heaved a dry laugh, caressing Clint's soft face. "I have not asked you yet."
"Well, the answer is still yes," Clint told him. "But you can still ask if you want."
T'Challa shook his head, smiling, as he got down on one knee and took Clint's hand. "Clinton Francis Barton, my best friend and beloved archer, will you marry me?"
Clint blushed and chuckled at the cheesiness of his partner's words and actions. "Yes, I will marry you, my panther king."
He had a split second to see T'Challa smile lovingly at him before a burst of green light blinded him and almost knocked him off his feet, had it not been for T'Challa catching him. His entire body burned as the green flooded his vision unceasingly. It felt like it lasted for hours, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before the pain ebbed away and the green vanished, revealing T'Challa's relieved smile as he held him in his arms.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
Clint coughed, pain still coursing through his veins from the sudden light. "Like hell. What was that?" He coughed again, shocked by the sound of his voice back to it's normal pitch.
T'Challa helped him get back on his feet, still caressing his hand with his short painted nails. "It seems the Enchantress's spell has finally broken, Mr. Barton."
Clint looked himself over, and T'Challa was right: he was a man again. He had his body back, though he was still wearing the uncomfortably tight leggings and the light purple crop top.
"I'm me!" Clint exclaimed, looking his hands over and over. "T'Challa, baby, I'm me! You... you turned me back?! With a ring?"
T'Challa shrugged and laughed. "I do believe Amora's spells have been broken by stranger actions. Do you remember when she turned Steve into an eagle?"
Clint scoffed, folding his bare arms as he remembered. "Point taken. But forget all that-- I'm me again, and that means this fits now." He looked at the ring now firmly hugging his ring finger.
"Well then, how would you feel about showing it off to the others?" T'Challa asked, reaching behind him for his mask.
"Oh, absolutely," Clint agreed. "But first, I need to change. This outfit is not comfortable anymore."
T'Challa nodded and offered his hand. And, smiling at his now fiance, Clint accepted his hand and followed him to the elevator, quickly adding, "I'm just glad I turned back before I started bleeding. I never want to know what that's like."
"That can be arranged if Jackie finds out you lost her favorite jacket," T'Challa said.
"What?!" Clint looked around wildly for the jacket, only to realize that it was still tied around his waist. "Ohh, I hate you."
"I love you, too," T'Challa responded with a kiss as the elevator doors shut.