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Clint has been perfectly happy with the idea that he doesn't have a soulmate. Not everyone does, after all, and not everyone meets their soulmate in the same way if they do. Beyond that, not every soulmate is romantic; they're just important enough to be your match in some kind of way, or at least that's how everyone's collectively agreed to think about it.
But when he wakes up with a goose perched on the end of his bed, having just let out a shrill HONK, Clint's first thought is why me? and his second thought is of course I get the fucking goose.
He slaps around the bedside table for his phone, flips open the camera app, takes a picture of the goose (which has now spread its wings wide in a menacing silhouette against the light filtering in through Clint's curtains), and texts it to Nat with zero further context.
She replies moments later with a string of cry-laughing emojis and "lmao congrats," and Clint reflects that Natasha learning text speak was maybe a worse development of the universe than Clint becoming aware he has a soulmate because a fucking goose decided to menace him into a life of universally-mandated-bliss.
Ugh. This sucks. "I'm going back to bed," he tells the goose, and buries his face in the pillow before dragging the covers up over his head. Hah. Try to beat that, you devil creature.
The goose wins.
Clint stumbles out of bed much worse for the wear less than fifteen minutes later, snarling mad about the whole thing. He makes his coffee as the goose nips at his heels, kicking at it and snarling, "I will not be leaving this apartment until I have had at least one pot of coffee, so you can fuck right off."
After his first pot of coffee has been consumed, Clint is feeling a little bit better, and thus is a bit more capable of not fighting with a goose that can only deal out damage, not actually be damaged in return.
Clint would like to state, for the record, that he does not make a habit of fighting animals at all. Quite the opposite, really. But Soulmate Geese of Enforcement aren't animals, they're metaphysical pests, and he doesn't feel nearly as bad about trying to kill one in light of that, even if his rational brain knows it's impossible to actually manage it.
He puts on clean clothes that are nonetheless still living in one of his laundry hampers from the last time he did laundry (putting them away is just annoying, okay?), laces up his boots, and follows the goose out the door.
Luckily, he doesn't have to go far.
Unluckily, he does have to knock on the door of his neighbor one floor and three doors down.
The guy who answers is at least gorgeous? He's also undeniably the Red Hood, even if he's dressed like an average, non-threatening civilian right now. "Uh, hi," Clint says. "Any chance you got a goose situation too?"
The guy groans with a level of drama that makes Clint crack a wry grin. Yeah, soulmate goose can fuck up anyone's day. "I'm Jason," the guy says. He does not offer his last name; smart. Clint wonders if he's clocked that Cint's not quite your average civilian, either.
"Clint," he offers, reaching out to shake the guy's hand. "You like coffee? My theory is that if we get them somewhere crowded enough, the geese have gotta chill out, and if not, at least they're everyone else's problems then too."
Jason's smile is wicked as Natasha's and equally breath-taking. "I like the way you think." Clint waits as the guy grabs his keys and stuffs his feet into some sneakers that have clearly seen better days, and he can't help but grin a little in return. If it's more at the prospect of getting to know the man behind one of the most infamous masks in Gotham's crazy borders, well. He'll give the universe one single point for at least making this whole ordeal interesting.