The Hottest Avenger (Patreon)

Clint wasn’t sure whether or not to laugh or roll his eyes. Once again Buzzfeed had put out a “Who’s the hottest Avenger?” and he wasn’t even an option! Steve, sure. Tony, apparently so. Thor, duh. Even Hulk had made it on the damn list so where was he? Sure, he didn’t have cool powers or giant muscles or enough money to coat himself in a cyber-powered suit but he did well enough for himself and Clint happened to think he was rather handsome. His wife certainly did. The rest of the world supposedly didn’t agree though and it bugged the archer more than he knew it should have. It was petty and ridiculous but he simply couldn’t let it go. At least Natasha got a kick out of his bitter comments and sour rambling.

After saving New York from a HYDRA plot - you know, again - and being rewarded by the stupid ‘hottest Avenger’ poll, Clint decided to salvage his evening by getting a few drinks in at one of his favorite establishments in the city. It was a hole-in-the-wall type place and provided a lot of much needed peace, mellow jazz music and fine liquor. Oftentimes Natasha accompanied him but this time he was riding solo as she opted for a little post-mission sparring with Steve instead. Clint tried to take it not to heart. After all this was Captain America they were talking about, sparring with him was about as cool as it got - even if Clint always got his ass handed to him by the larger man.

Clint wasn’t on his own at the bar for long though as a well-dressed young man - probably some fifteen years younger than him - parked himself on the stool next to the Avenger and offered to buy him a drink. “You know, for saving our asses on multiple occasions,” the kid added, a wry grin on his face. “I’m Henry, by the way.” Clint chuckled and mumbled his approval. Who was he to turn down a free drink? Oh yeah, the ugliest Avenger apparently.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, dude, but it looks like there’s something on your mind. Do you wanna share?” Clint snorted. He normally prized himself on having a good poker face - had he really had enough to be so easy to read already? It felt like he’d hardly had anything to drink at all!

Even though he knew he shouldn’t Clint found himself confiding in the other man about his petty woes and even showed him the poll that had caused his sour mood. He did his best to make a joke out of it but Henry didn’t laugh, instead he frowned and shook his head. “If they don’t think you’re one of the hottest Avengers then they’re stupid,” he declared confidently. “What is there about you that makes you less hot than any of the rest?” Clint was surprised by the younger man’s response but he wasn’t complaining. It felt good to have somebody else jump to his defense for once.

“Well, I mean.. I’m not the big and beefy type, you know? It’s why my suit’s got layers; can’t be showing off the skinny noodles I call arms,” Clint attempted to explain, a sardonic smile playing with his lips. “And let’s just say age and beer haven’t been all that nice to my abs.” He patted his stomach just to prove a point, even if there wasn’t really too much build-up there. Making a joke out of these things made it so much easier to talk about, especially with a complete stranger. He didn’t want Henry to think he was actually jealous of the other Avengers!

“That can’t be right,” the other cut in. “You can’t be that much smaller than Cap or even Thor! Your biceps are what… sixteen, seventeen inches?” The idea of having such large arms sounded ridiculous to Clint at first but as he looked down at his arms and how the sleeves of his plaid shirt were begging for mercy against his big biceps he knew that he had been underselling himself. “And I’d say it’s hardly surprising that your torso is so ripped given all the hero work you do. You should be proud of that six-pack!” Clint had to admit that Henry was making a lot of sense. He did try and keep his body in good condition.

Once he had downed the rest of his drink, Clint was delivered another one by the bartender and Henry swooped in to pay for it. “Okay, then maybe it’s my age. I’m the worst side of forty,” Clint pointed out, continuing to fixate on any perceived reason that might have kept him from that blasted poll. This only earned him a gentle laugh from his new acquaintance.

“Cap’s like a hundred and isn’t Thor pushing the thousands by this point?” Fair point, Clint conceded. “Besides, being the better side of thirty isn’t old at all. In fact I’d say twenty-nine is still damn young.”

Clint had to check that he’d heard the other right. Had he really insinuated that he was only twenty-nine? Yeah, and he was spot on. “How’d you know my exact age, huh?” he asked, eyeing Henry suspiciously. “Some kinda super-fan… or stalker?” He was only partially joking - the Avengers had many enemies after all and Loki had made Clint all too aware of the fact that he wasn’t too difficult to manipulate if the right tools were in play.

“Call it a lucky guess,” Henry retorted, his face relaxing into a charming smile. Clint relaxed a little and opted to take a sip of the new drink the other man had so kindly paid for. “Now what else could possibly make you think you aren’t the hottest Avenger?”

As he paused to think about it, Clint was surprised to find that there wasn’t much about him that couldn’t be considered conventionally attractive. He was young and well-muscled and was a damn good fighter. Could it be… “Well, I guess folks might not go for me because I’m a married man. A married father.” Clint’s family wasn’t common knowledge but a few rag-sheets had caught him wearing his wedding band so of course there were speculations going around. As awful as it was to consider, maybe it was his family that made him a less attractive prospect than his superhero colleagues.

Henry’s smile only widened further. “A married father, huh? Sounds like you’ve got big hopes for your future,” he remarked, nudging Clint’s hand. He glanced down and was surprised to find that his wedding ring had vanished from his finger. “I thought you enjoyed the bachelor lifestyle! Any girl you could possibly want… any guy too, if you were so inclined. Stark’s married to Potts, Cap’s still pining over Agent Carter and Thor’s juggling Sif and Jane Foster. You’re the most available of the bunch!”

Clint was at a loss. Why on earth had he thought for a moment that he’d been married with three kids? That wasn’t like him at all and it certainly wasn’t what he wanted for himself. He was more than happy playing the field, even hooking up with the various damsels in distress that the Avengers saved along the way. Him and Natasha had been fucking like rabbits for as long as he could remember too and he’d even been lucky enough to blow Steve once. Yeah, he’d sucked Captain America’s cock and he was damn proud of it too!

“Why don’t you check that poll again?” Henry suggested, smirking over the top of his wine glass. Clint did as he was told, opening up the Buzzfeed article and taking a look through. Just as he’d expected to see he was leading the poll by quite a margin with Steve and Thor trailing behind. Linked on from the page were countless gossip articles about his sex life and shirtless workouts in the city. Hawkeye was clearly not only the hottest Avenger - he was the most popular too and it seemed like it had always been that way!