Unconventional

Marvel Cinematic Universe
Gen
G
Unconventional
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Mike

Clint was a very private person, obviously. It was strange to have anyone know anything personal about him, Nat being the exception, of course. That fact didn’t change when he joined the Avengers. Sure, he considered the team his closest friends. He’d die for them and vice versa. Hell, they almost had on quite a few occasions. But that didn’t negate all of his secretive and evasive habits.

So he was more than a little surprised to find out Tony knew his birthday, or that he was planning a huge party to celebrate. He really shouldn’t have been (this was Tony he was talking about) but he was. It was even more surprising when the limo Stark shoved them all into pulled up outside a semi-rundown basketball stadium. Clint had never given any hint that he loved basketball, not even to Nat. Or at least he thought so. Apparently he was wrong.

“What are we doing here, Tony?” he asked, a little hesitantly.

The billionaire grinned as the other Avengers followed him onto the middle of the court, “Just wait.”

He shifted on his feet, feeling oddly self-conscious. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like that. He didn’t like it.

“Tony…”

“So who was your favorite player again?” Tony asked casually.

“How’d you even find out I like basketball?”

He smirked, “Favorite player?”

Clint sighed, eyeing the other man for half a minute before deciding to throw caution to the wind. This was Tony, his teammate. The man who allowed the Avengers to, more or less, take over his tower in New York as their own personal headquarters and home. He would never betray the trust of his team. Though God only knew why he wanted to know who Clint’s favorite basketball player was.

“As a kid, I always really liked Michael Jordon. Why?”

Tony’s grin widened, “Good. I got it right.”

“What are you…” Clint trailed off as his eyes widened.

“Mr. Barton?” the deep voice of the new comer asked with a smile. “An honor to meet you. Mr. Stark asked me to come down here to meet you for your birthday.”

A hand suddenly clapped Clint hard on the shoulder, “Happy Birthday, Robin Hood.”

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