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“You are really bad at this,” Sam commented from across the table.
Clint tore his stare away from the enticing thin strip of skin that showed between the cutoff short shorts and the tied up purple plaid shirt Darcy wore to look at the man, “What?” he frowned, “Bad at what?”
Sam rolled his eyes and shared a look with Natasha who was sitting next to him, “You know what I’m talking about right?” he asked her.
Natasha smirked and pressed a quick kiss to Sam’s jaw and shrugged, “He may have an uncanny ability to see things, but when it comes to being seen he tends to lean more towards subtly,” she commented, her green eyes glinting at Clint with amusement, “He can’t help it.”
Somehow that sounded more like an insult than any sort of compliment. Clint gave his long-time friend a scrutinizing look before giving up on trying to crack that nut and glancing around the large round table to shoot Steve a look that demanded an explanation.
Rather than provide Clint with the explanation he was looking for however, Steve raised his hands in surrender, “I’m stayin’ out of this,” he shook his head and reached for his raspberry lemonade to take a hardy sip.
Bucky gave Steve an amused look before turning to meet Clint’s eyes head on, “You sure you wanna know?” he checked.
If there was one person on the planet who Clint could always count on to tell him when he was missing something big and not just shake his head in exasperation at him (like Natasha) it was Bucky Barnes, “Yeah, I’m sure,” he rolled his eyes.
Arching an eyebrow at his fellow sniper Bucky smirked as his eyes glanced over to where Darcy and Jane were attempting to teach Thor one of the more advanced line-dances. He pointedly watched them for several long seconds before meeting Clint’s eyes again, “Wilson thinks you’ve got no game,” he finally got to the point.
“First of all,” Tony appeared at their table, “Don’t talk like that gramps,” he set the tray of food he’d just ordered down on the table to point at Bucky, “It’s unnatural; and secondly, the fact that Barton has no game isn’t exactly news.”
“I do too have game!” Clint protested, shifting in his seat to sit up a little straighter, “I just don’t—“ he cut himself off before he said too much but it was too late. If only the world knew what a big group of gossips the Avengers were. Clint stole a quick glance at Darcy to make sure she was still occupied before turning back to his teammates with a sigh, “I’m not exactly hiding the fact that I’m interested in her,” he told them, “A guy can only take so much rejection before it becomes clear that the girl’s not interested.”
Wanda rolled her eyes as she claimed a seat on Steve’s lap, “Most people wouldn’t say that Darcy Lewis has low self-esteem,” the whole table seemed to chuckle in amusement at her words, “And that would be true about every aspect of her life except when it comes to romance,” she leant forward and stole a fry out of one of the baskets Rhodey had helped Tony to carry to the table.
“And trust me,” Pepper spoke up from her place between Maria and Tony, “She’s interested.”
Maria smirked, “Or was the purple shirt too subtle for you Barton?” she arched an eyebrow at him as she popped a fried mushroom into her mouth.
Looking around at his teammates, his lips parting with surprise he finally gave in, “What else can I do?” he threw his hands up, “I already bring her coffee and that muffin she likes from the store down the street all the time, I got into that whole Community show that she loves so much, I bring her ice cream and movies when she has a bad day, I intimidate the minions Fury has floating around into doing what she wants, I make sure she takes a break every now and then, I compliment her every chance I get, I go out of my way to spend time with her and only her and—“
“We know all of that Barton,” Rhodey rolled his eyes, “We’re not the ones who are blind to how you feel about her.”
Frowning at them all Clint gave them all an expectant expression, “So everyone knows I’m nuts about Darcy Lewis but her, and somehow I’m the one who has no game?” he pointedly ignored Pietro dropping into the seat next to him and stealing one of his fries in favor of glaring at Natasha, who looked more amused at his plight than anyone had any right to be.
“Midgardian dances are much more complicated than I had anticipated,” Thor’s voice boomed, alerting them all to his return. Turning Clint watched him approach with his arm wrapped around Jane’s shoulders and Darcy tagging along behind them.
As Thor, Darcy and Jane slid into the remaining free seats around the table, the rest of its occupants calmly carried on conversing with each other, acting as if they hadn’t just been holding a conversation about the obliviousness of their Wrangler, “It’s okay Hammertime,” Darcy patted Thor on the arm, “You can’t be a god about everything,” she shared a smile with Thor, “Oooh food!” she smiled happily and reached for one of the generic burgers resting on a tray down the table.
Almost as if the previous conversation had never happened, the conversation around the table picked up again. Pietro began his favorite little game of trying to steal food from Clint without getting caught (unfortunately for him Clint was pretty good at noticing whenever he tried and stopping him). The game distracted him from staring a little too constantly at Darcy while his mind whirled trying to think of any reason she wouldn’t be aware of his interest in her. (He even stares stupidly at her all the time; she’s caught him doing it!)
The first round of food was demolished relatively quickly and it wasn’t long before Darcy was up and towing Wanda and Jane with her to the dancefloor. Pietro successfully filched one last fry with a smirk before rising to his feet and following them, ignoring Clint’s mocking glare on his retreating back.
None of them could have guessed three years ago that the favored Avengers hang-out, outside of the Tower, of course, would be some out of the way country-style dance club. But when Darcy had returned from being on a Science!tour with Jane to find the Avengers studiously ignoring and avoiding one another because of some argument or another (Clint still maintained that it was in fact Natasha who had eaten the last of Tony’s left over Thai, no matter what Steve said otherwise), she’d thrown her hands up, ordered them all into the elevator and dragged them all to this place.
The initial reactions of the group hadn’t been much save for Tony’s overreaction to just about everything about the place. He’d balked at the décor the second he walked in, seeming to be walking the line between sick fascination and horror at the fact that a place like this actually existed in his city; he’d mocked the jukebox that the day-time patrons could use, the large sectioned off wooden floor in the center of the building for line-dancing, the rustic-looking everything and then he’d caught sight of the honest-to-Odin bullride. He’d nearly keeled over after he’d spotted that, but after he’d made the rounds, seen what there was to see, Darcy had glared him into a seat and demanded his credit card so she could go and order food. While the rest of them had been able to handle the novelty of such a place in the middle of New York City, it had really been the food that sold them on the place.
They returned home that night as friends once more, but with each one of them expecting their outing to the place to be front page news to the tabloids. To their surprise, there wasn’t even a peep. They’d thought it was a fluke until five visits to the club later when Darcy actually introduced them to the owners, who, as it turned out, took the privacy of their patrons very seriously, not matter how famous. They’d made a point to come back at least once a month ever since.
One of the things that had managed to bond the Avengers that first night, fascinatingly enough, was the fact that none of them could line-dance to save their lives; at least not when they first started coming here. As it turned out, out of all of them only Darcy, Jane and, surprisingly, Bruce, could perform any semblance of the dances going on in the center of the building. Of course over time they’d each managed to improve their abilities with the new skillset, but still none of them were as good or enjoyed it as much as Darcy.
Clint was brought out of his musings by Natasha pointedly kicking at his shin under the table, “You’re staring,” she commented.
“And apparently she’s not noticing,” Clint retorted, at his wits end on the topic.
Tony snorted but Pepper elbowed him to keep quiet, “If it helps, we’ve tried to convince her you’re in love with her on multiple occasions during our girl’s nights,” the CEO offered, “It didn’t do much good,” she admitted, “But we did try.”
“According to Darcy,” Natasha spoke slowly, sharing a look with Maria and Pepper that belayed her hesitancy to divulge whatever information she held, “The only thing that would convince her we were telling the truth would be if you were to just up and kiss her.”
Maria hummed in agreement, “And not just a kiss either, but one of those up against the wall kind of kisses,” she got a faraway look in her eye that had Rhodey eyeing her with renewed interest.
“Mm-hmm,” Pepper agreed, resting her head on Tony’s shoulders, “Though I suspect saying you love her right to her face might get the point across fairly well.”
Smirking at Pepper, Maria licked her lips and attempted to look serious, “Add on a kiss after that, and if she still mistakes your intentions we’ll need to stage an intervention.”
Clint rolled his eyes at all three of the women, “Don’t you have your own romantic lives to worry about?” he commented with only a little bite.
In response Maria turned and tugged Rhodey down into a deep and lingering kiss that bordered on inappropriate given the public space they were in. Pulling away and leaving a dazed Rhodey staring at her with awe Maria sent Clint a look, “Worry isn’t the word I’d use Barton,” she smirked, rising to her feet and tugging Rhodey behind her. Leaning one hand on the table so she could meet Clint’s eyes she tilted her head at the dancefloor, “Get the girl Clint,” she ordered before turning and leading Rhodey out of the club.
Clint frowned after her before turning back to fiddle with his straw as he got lost in his thoughts again. It wasn’t that he was against either of the options presented to him (though the first option set fire to his veins just thinking about it, so he could hardly imagine what it would be like to actually go through with it), but either one of them could completely destroy the close friendship he had with her. Honestly, the only person alive who knows even remotely as much about him as Darcy did was Natasha, burning a relationship like that with unwanted affections wasn’t something he thought he could survive.
On the other hand, their relationship couldn’t go on as it was. He was more than a little sure that she felt at least something for him beyond platonic friendship, so it wasn’t that he was even really concerned that she’d end whatever friendship they had and reject him coldly, but…He blinked and felt his eyebrows pulled down with confusion, what was he worried about? Even the worst case scenarios in his head didn’t honestly consist of Darcy never speaking to him again.
He blinked again at the straw in the cup in his hands before turning his attention to the dance floor. He spotted Darcy nearly instantly, her long brown hair flipping as she completed a turn for the dance the group was doing. Her face was lit up with a large smile and she laughed as she missed the next step because Pietro bumped into her.
This was a girl he could love for the rest of his life, and he was letting her continue to doubt his feelings for her. He couldn’t allow either of them to continue this impasse any longer, not when every second playing what-if games was a second he could be spending with her.
Decision made, Clint turned back to the table to take one last sip of his drink before meeting Natasha’s knowing eyes, “Make it count,” she advised him with a tone of voice that told him she was half mocking him and half being serious.
Shaking his head at her, Clint rose to his feet and ignored the jeering from Tony and Bucky as he headed for the dance floor. Darcy spotted him heading her way just as the current song was ending and sliding into a country-style version of Footloose, “Clint!” she called waving at him to help him find her, as if he didn’t already know exactly where she stood (he always knew).
He sent a small smile her way and weaved his way through the people between them until he was standing next to her on the edge of the dancefloor, “Hey Pretty-girl,” he smirked flirtatiously at her, “What’s a gal like you doin’ in a place like this?”
Darcy laughed up at him, “Waitin’ for a handsome partner to dance with,” she replied coyly as she snaked her hand into his. He had a brief moment of realization that she was actually serious before she tugged on his hand and he found himself following her out right into the middle of the crowd.
“Not sure I know this one Darce,” he shouted over the noise of the music.
She grinned, moving closer and lifting up on the toes of her purple tasseled cowgirl boots to reply with her lips close to his ear, “It’s easy, just follow me!” she lowered herself back to her heels and bobbed her head a few times before picking up on the beat of the music and stepping right into the rhythm of the line-dance. She pulled him along as she turned to begin the new set and he made several awkward attempts to mimic her movements before he finally caught on.
Grinning victoriously to himself as he made a full set without messing up, he turned to look at Darcy only to find her smiling up at him as she carded her hands through her hair to pull it out of her face. She laughed at the pleased grin on his face and he found himself chuckling as he sidestepped with the rest of the mob around them. On their next turn he spotted Pietro tripping over his feet (something he always enjoyed seeing) while Thor and Jane had completely given up on the line-dance. Wanda, he noted absently, was making her way back to Steve, who, it turned out, was echoing everyone else at the table and watching him and Darcy as they danced.
Rolling his eyes to himself, he began singing along to the song under his breath as it began its last chorus. Following along as everyone did the final set he let out a laugh as Darcy flung herself dramatically into his arms. Immediately playing along he pulled her closer and lowered her into a dramatic dip just as the final note was hitting.
Pulling her up as the next song began playing, he smiled down at her laughing face and found himself pulling her into him to sway back and forth for a moment as she caught her balance. He watched the expression on her face as she relaxed into his arms, eyeing him with a tentative and curious look.
“You okay Birdie?” she asked loudly over the music.
He stared down at her for a moment longer as he nodded. His eyes met hers and he licked his lips. Taking a quick steadying breath he pulled her closer into him as he bowed his head into the curve of her neck, “I’m in love with you,” he confessed as if it were the answer to her question, his hands briefly tightening on her waist.
He felt her still against him and felt her hands grip the dark blue cotton of his t-shirt where they rested on his shoulders. Dropping a quick kiss to her neck, Clint braced himself to face her reaction as he pulled back to try and get a read on Darcy’s emotions. He found her staring up at him with wide blue eyes that looked so disbelieving it actually hurt his heart to see.
“What?” she finally seemed to find her voice.
Clint’s eyes flitted back and forth between hers as he tried to figure out what his next move should be. Suddenly unable to wait any longer for this conversation, Clint pulled away from her enough to grab her hand, “Come on,” he requested, nodding his head towards a back door that would lead them out into the relatively clean alley outside.
Darcy said nothing but she nodded her head in a series of quick, jerky movements that told him more than enough about how uncertain she was. Gently pulling her behind him, he guided her through the crowd, ignoring the knowing looks from their friends and resisting the urge to flip Tony off as he watched them from the bar with a mocking smirk. He nodded once to Gloria, the club owner, as he pulled Darcy through the ‘employees only’ door that she’d once given them permission to use in the event of an Avengers emergency and was only slightly surprised to find her giving him an approving grin back.
As he stepped through the swinging door he felt Darcy pick up the pace behind him a little and he turned to glance back at her just as her free hand rose to wrap around his wrist as if she needed something more to hold him to her. His sense of urgency rose as he pulled her down the short hallway and out the back door.
Swallowing tightly past his own nerves he walked them both down the alley a little ways until they were far enough away from the garbage bins at the end of the alley.
“Clint,” Darcy spoke up suddenly, sounding breathless, “What’s--?”
But he didn’t let her finish before he turned and carefully but commandingly pressed her against the wall. He met her eyes briefly as he lowered his head to make sure she wasn’t freaked out, but her eyes shut before he could read anything beyond surprise. His lips pressed firmly against hers, not wanting her to doubt for a second that this wasn’t exactly everything he’d been dreaming about doing for the last three and a half years since he’d met her.
He felt her inhale sharply as his lips made contact with his but he didn’t let up. She let out a surprised whimper when he released her hand to slide it into the smooth curls on the side of her head, as if it were finally sinking in that this was happening. Lightly tracing his thumb along the bare skin at her waist, he gently used his hand in her hair to guide her head back a little more so he could deepen the kiss.
He felt her hands finally lift from her sides to to carefully grasp his arms a few beats later, and something about the movement made him aware of how unsure of this moment Darcy was. He could practically taste her disbelief. Wanting to reassure her somehow, Clint lightened his kiss, moving from showing her his desire for her into something lighter; demonstrating through soft quick bushes of his lips how much he cared for her, how much he cherished and adored her.
Little by little, Darcy began returning his small kisses, her soft lips pressing against his with increasing ease. He encouraged her with a soft hum, shifting closer until there was next to no space left between them, trying to wordlessly reassure her that this was real, that he was right there with her, that he wanted this, wanted her. Unable to get enough, but not wanting to pressure her into too much, Clint began to lessen his kisses, intending to pull away any second now to try and talk to her, to explain what was running through his head.
Darcy however, simply wasn’t having it. Just as he’d managed to pull enough self-restraint together to try and pull away, her hands flew suddenly to his head, carding through his hair to pull him back down to her. With a soft breath and his name murmured in a tone he’d only dreamed about, Darcy reached up and insistently caught his lips with hers. He was surprised to feel her prodding him to deepen the kiss, but he did so without hesitation, taking in the taste of her, the smell of her, her sounds, the warmth and softness.
The longer they kissed, the less control Clint felt. He couldn’t get enough of her, his hands shifted, sliding from her waist to her jaw, from her hair to the small of her back, from her jaw, down her shoulder and over her arm only to lift back to cup her neck. It didn’t feel real, but the longer he kissed her, the more he felt her, the more he drowned himself in her scent and taste, the more it real it became, the more convinced he was that this was finally, finally happening.
They were both gasping for air between kisses, desperate for oxygen, but unwilling to pull away to regain more than the minimum amount needed. Eventually though something shifted between them, the sudden passion and need to get closer to consume each other eased, what once was desperation became soft familiarity; where lips and tongues had tangled harshly and quickly together, they now moved slowly, gently, languidly, as if they had all the time in the world until eventually they just stopped.
Clint didn’t couldn’t find it in himself to pull away from her right away and instead found himself pressing their foreheads together, breathing as one, lips lightly brushing with each inhale. Eventually his desire to see her overwhelmed his other senses and he allowed himself to lift his head just far enough from hers that he could look down at her upturned face. He smiled softly to himself as he noticed that her eyes were still shut, still lost in the sensations of the moment and that her lips were parted and kiss-brusised.
Sliding a hand from where he’d buried it in her hair, he brushed a thumb lightly in the corner of one of her eyes before he found himself bending forward to press his lips against her forehead in a soft kiss that slowly moved to the corner of each of her eyes, across her cheeks, along her jaw and lightly, just once on the column of her neck.
Darcy hummed with pleased contentment as she allowed his actions, her own hands moving from his shoulders to clutch at the fabric of his shirt at his waist.
“Tell me again?” Darcy’s abnormally quiet voice requested, breaking the silence between them nearly a full minute later.
His eyes slid shut as he recognized the reassurance she was looking for, “I love you Darcy,” he murmured, his voice coarse and soft.
Feeling her head moving, Clint opened his eyes again and lifted his head to look down at her. He found her watching him with an awed sort of surprise, “You’re too good to be true,” she breathed, her head shaking minutely, “I’d say I’m dreaming but…” she trailed off as her hands tightened where they rested before one lifted as she brushed her thumb over his eyebrow and down the side of his face, “You don’t feel like Dream!Clint.”
“So you’re saying you’ve dreamed about this?” he teased her softly.
Darcy peered up at him softly for a moment before shaking her head with a small smile, “I’m saying I love you too,” she replied, her voice nearly breaking in the middle of her declaration.
A slow smile spread across his lips as he considered this, “I think I’ve known that for a while now,” he admitted, brushing his thumb along the side of her face again.
Her face seemed to warm under his touch as if she were blushing and he found himself silently cursing the dim lighting provided only by the lamp that shown by the back door and the typical NYC light pollution for not allowing him to be able to truly see it, “Well that’s…” Darcy started, her body stiffening a little, “unbelievably embarrassing,” she finished, “And you…” she trailed off, licking at her lips nervously, “You didn’t say anything because you didn’t—“
“I did,” Clint cut her off as soon as he saw where her thoughts and taken her and the reason for her blush.
“Did what? Feel that way, or say something?” Darcy questioned, before giving a small halfhearted laugh “Because I don’t remember being kissed like that before.”
Ducking his head to briefly press his forehead against hers again Clint chuckled a little, “Both,” he answered, “I’ve loved you for…” he trailed off and shook his head as he raised it, “I don’t even know how long Darce,” he brushed some hair back from her face and over her shoulder, “And I’ve been trying to let you know for nearly as long.”
Darcy frowned, her swollen lips pulling down at the corners and practically begging him to kiss them again but he resisted, “Letting me know how?” she wanted to know, “Because last I checked, you’ve never asked me out, you’ve certainly never kissed me before, and you’ve never actually told me that you—“ she obviously forced herself to stop speaking before she got herself started on a long rant and he smiled at her.
“Actually,” he disagreed, his hand on her waist lightly brushing against the skin just under the hem of the tied shirt, “I’ve asked you out several times, and every time you either thought it was a just-as-friends thing or you invited other people along,” he gave her a small smile to let her know he was more amused than annoyed by this, “And while I haven’t kissed you before,” he moved his hand from her neck to press his thumb briefly against her bottom lip tenderly, his mind remembering instantly the softness of them when pressed against his own, “I have told you that I love you, many times.”
“Yeah, as a friend,” Darcy sounded desperate for some reason.
“That’s the way you took it,” he agreed, “But that’s not how I meant it,” he gave into the urge to kiss her briefly, covering her lips with his own for a few seconds before pulling back. Absently licking at the traces of her left on his lips he tilted his head a little and smiled, “I don’t say I love you to just anyone you know.”
Darcy stared up at him silently for a few moments, “I’m such an idiot,” she muttered abruptly, her head lowering as she tried to pull her hands free, “All those coffees,” she started, attempting to move around him only for him to hold her in place with both hands on her waist, “All the blueberry muffins, and the texts, the interns and minions and the…the…” her hand waved and she stared up at him with wide eyes, “How did I not see it?”
Clint smiled reassuringly at her, “That’s what I kept asking myself,” he murmured, aware that she hadn’t relaxed yet, “But it doesn’t matter anymore,” he decided, “What matters is what’s happening right now.”
Slowly Darcy’s hands lifted to press against his chest, “And what’s happening right now?” she wondered out loud, only lifting her eyes from her hands after she’d finished speaking.
“Right now,” he told her softly, his voice low, “I’m going to kiss you some more, and then we’re going to go back inside, accept all the told-you-so’s and the about-time’s, maybe make our friends uncomfortable with a little PDA, and then you’re going to let me take you out, just me and you, to some nice restaurant somewhere, on a real date,” as he spoke his lips moved closer and closer to hers until they brushed against hers as he asked, “Okay?”
Darcy nodded, accidentally skimming their lips together as she did, “Okay,” she sighed happily, “Throw in a snuggle-session somewhere in there and you have yourself a deal.”
A slow smile spread across his lips as he hummed, “And a snuggle-session,” he agreed, “Sound good?”
“Clint,” Darcy murmured, her voice soft and low, “Kiss me already will you?”
And with a contented sound, he dove in and did just that.