One minute Clint's reaching for his gun to stop Loki stealing the Tesseract, the next he's shooting Fury and taking it. Easy as switching sides.

A blur of green in amongst the ruin and the arrow is in his hand, the string drawn to his cheek.

Clint has every intention of taking care of Loki just as Loki took care of him. Karma’s a bitch, and all that.

The hell was that it had still been him the whole time. It hadn't been Stockholm, he'd been trained for that; and it hadn't been some kind of magic that turned you into a zombie. Everything he had, everything he was, he'd given to Loki. He'd been happy to do it. Funny how little free will seemed to matter, when you got down to it.

Phil Coulson wakes up in a hospital bed. Well, damn.

Clint's definition of an acceptable loss is a little different than the team's.

Every office has a 'cute guy from Marketing with a great ass' that everyone wants to sleep with. Among the junior agents at SHIELD, that person is Phil Coulson. Clint would find it hilarious, but he just wants people to stop throwing themselves at his boyfriend.

Clint Barton is a) seventeen, b) only slightly addicted to porn and c) infatuated with Phil Coulson.

Clint rejects this reality and replaces it with his own.

They don’t fuck in the Avengers’ Mansion, that’s rule number one of Having A Secret Relationship With Your Ex-Handler.

If this is what the middle of the night is usually like, Clint is prepared to visit it way more often.

Clint, Coulson, injury, and the appropriate response from field agents regarding orders.

Clint's got a secret love, and it's spelled b-a-n-j-o.

Clint’s hands never shake. He can take down an enemy sniper at one hundred feet in driving rain while bleeding out from a bullet wound in the stomach (that’s not theoretical; he’s tried it) but his hands never shake.

If a top secret file on Phil Coulson and Clint Barton's relationship existed, it would look something like this.