An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Clint Barton/Tony Stark, Clint Barton&Screaming Mimi
Characters: Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Screaming Mimi, Steve Rogers
Additional Tags: POV Tony Stark, Awesome Clint Barton, Clint Barton Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Feels, Bottom Tony Stark, Top Clint Barton, The first jealousy, Clint brings back gifts for Tony, Tony has a lot of worries, Happy Ending, I'll fight a little bit
Summary:
When Tony see an unexpected scene, start to misunderstand. Tony was a playboy and didn't know jealousy. This is my headcanon of Clint and Tony being in love with each other. It's a story about the two of them making up after a small misunderstanding.
I'm a Japanese speaker, so I mostly rely on apps for English translation. I want you to use your sensibility when it comes to spoken language, and make it read like the character. Colloquial language is difficult!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 5/5
Fandom: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Clint Barton/Tony Stark, thor&tony stark&clint barton, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Characters: Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Thor (Marvel)
Additional Tags: POV Clint Barton, Clint Barton-centric, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Thor is Not Stupid (Marvel), Tony Stark & Thor Friendship, Clint Barton & Thor Friendship, Clint Barton is So Done, Headcanon, episode:s2e15 Avengers Assemble cartoon
Summary:
Avengers Assemble cartoon, Season 2 Episode 15 was a big shock. However, Hawkeye and Thor must have treated Tony well. They must have trusted him. I will update the story I made up in my head little by little. Clint will do anything to make Tony feel at ease. Thor will do the same.
My native language is Japanese. I'm doing my best to translate (mostly using a translation app), but if there are any mistakes, please correct them in your head as you read. And I'd be even happier if you could let me know about the mistakes.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Clint Barton/Tony Stark, thor&tony stark&clint barton, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Characters: Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Thor (Marvel)
Additional Tags: POV Clint Barton, Clint Barton-centric, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Thor is Not Stupid (Marvel), Tony Stark & Thor Friendship, Clint Barton & Thor Friendship, Clint Barton is So Done, Headcanon, episode:s2e15 Avengers Assemble cartoon
Summary:
Avengers Assemble cartoon, Season 2 Episode 15 was a big shock. However, Hawkeye and Thor must have treated Tony well. They must have trusted him. I will update the story I made up in my head little by little. Clint will do anything to make Tony feel at ease. Thor will do the same.
My native language is Japanese. I'm doing my best to translate (mostly using a translation app), but if there are any mistakes, please correct them in your head as you read. And I'd be even happier if you could let me know about the mistakes.
you said i could ask for ironhawk fic recs so here i am asking for ironhawk fic recs pleeeeeeeeease?
Hi! Yes! Yes, yes, yes and all the yes in the world. You came to the right place, cause I’ve got all the IronHawk one could wish for! This is one of my absolute favorite ships, which is why this list is also a bit on the longer side. And there are still some in my MfL list yet to be read, otherwise this would be even longer.
(On a funny side-note; I almost rec’d your own AU-gust ficlets at you and it wasn’t until I typed out your name that I realized it lol)
Visiting Hours are Nine to Forever by Tahlruil
Look, Clint didn't mean to hit the guy, it just sort of happened. He was distracted, and the guy was distracted, and then things were a little bit out of his control. And even if it wasn't completely his fault, he still feels pretty bad about it. He had to go see the guy, didn't he? It was only polite, so yeah. He'd do that.
And look, he doesn't mean to start fake dating his accident victim either, but sometimes life is weird that way. You just gotta go with the flow when it happens, and learn to be the best fake boyfriend ever.
This is not only my favorite IronHawk fic, but also one of my favorite fics in general. I’m not one for overly fluffy stuff, but this fic is an exception. I absolutely adore Clint here and re-read this story so many times already I could probably recite it from memory. Sometimes I don’t have the time to read the whole fic, so I just jump to the beginning of chapter 2 cause it’s literally my favorite scene written ever. Honestly, you just need a feel-good? This fic is it.
I wonder how the world sees us by donutsandcoffee
This is how everyone else will see it:
Clint and Tony don’t so much happen as other people don’t happen.
(Or, Clint and Tony, as friends, as best friends, as warriors, as lovers-- and, most importantly, as themselves, even in the eyes of others.)
Clint and Tony’s relationship, written entirely in everyone else’s POV - and in such an incredibly beautiful way at that. Bruce’s POV always makes me very emotional.
Learn from the Wreck (Series) by thepartyresponsible
The circus has a way of evening people out. Everyone looks the same when the lights center on the stage. The whole audience, just blank shadows, staring in. Everyone looks like nothing.
Someone like this, though. Someone like him. They’ll throw off that nothing before they get back to whatever pampered bed they crawled out of. Everyone else stays nothing, but, for people like that, it’s just a temporary state.
Clint doesn’t mean to watch him. It’s just that he keeps catching Clint’s eye.
A+++ characterization and amazing mix of heart-wrenching yet so beautiful. Phenomenal fics!
Things Clint Barton Has (Series) by Tahlruil
Clint has always been a people watcher - he likes things better from a distance, after all. Hanging out in the Student Center with Nat supplies him with a primo lookout and fodder for stories. He's learned a lot about college students since they started hanging there - he can spot a freshman or a grad student from a mile away.
One in particular has really caught his eye lately. Not because he's attractive - though he is - but because he's both adorable and clearly a Grad Student Zombie. It really gets his protective, mother hen instincts up. Clearly something must be done.
Absolutely adorable. I really love how this author writes Clint a whole lot.
Take A Shot by ChibiSquirt
When SHIELD decided they were going to send an agent to assess Tony Stark, a.k.a. Iron Man, the Black Widow was their first choice to do the assessment.
Unfortunately (or maybe not so unfortunately), they would have to go with their second choice, instead.
IM2 but Clint is sent to spy on Tony instead of Natasha. And since this is Clint, the story takes quite a different turn. My favorite part is the moment Clint realizes Tony is dying, because of how he realizes it.
A Different Kind of Knight by jenny_wren
Clint's soulmate's first words to him will be 'Oh shit. You gotta help me hide the body.' Clint's not sure why everybody thinks this is a bad thing.
Soulmate AU with a first meeting you probably haven’t read like that before. :)
360 by donutsandcoffee
Clint and Tony's relationship from all perspectives. A collection of ficlets.
Lovely characterization of Clint!
Twelve months by everythingispoetry
Twelve months in twelve pieces: how Clint and Tony, slowly but steadily, become Clint and Tony.
I have no other words for this but: soft.
No Heart For Me Like Yours by FannyT
Everyone is born with a number visible on a random body part, a number that only exists twice—on yourself and on your soul mate.
Tony, famous from birth, was brought up to always hide his number from everyone around him in order to protect both himself and his soul mate from kidnapping and extortion. Clint, meanwhile, had his number obliterated by an accident when he was young and now only has only his own memory to rely on, having no records of his number from before.
Then, one day, Clint accidentally sees Tony's number.
This was the very first IronHawk fic I read and therefore partly the reason why I fell in love with this ship so hard.
The Man With the Golden Gauntlet by squadrickchestopher
“Okay.” Clint sighs. “So, am I jumping out of a window again?”
“Nope.” There’s a smile in her voice. “As per your request, you get to seduce the rich guy.”
Clint blinks. “What?”
“Tony Stark. He’s got a type. You’re it.”
I literally just read this one yesterday. Absolutely hilarious and well done characterization.
Aww electricity, no by Bill_Longbow
When Clint gets trapped in an elevator it might not be such a bad thing with this gorgeous stranger.
Cute and funny!
first one's free by shatteredhourglass
Clint Barton has a crush on Iron Man. Clint Barton is also sleeping with Tony Stark on the regular. All in all, it's a mess.
Identity Porn! So much Identity Porn!
Killer Date by Jaune_Chat
Clint and Tony's fifth date starts with death threats and payouts and only goes uphill from there.
Some nice smut. ;)
Bright Eyes by NotEvenCloseToStraight
After being hurt in a fight, Tony ends up temporarily blind and tries to hide it from the team so they don't worry.
Clint is the only one to notice, and an honest conversation between the two about exactly how much Tony matters to the team leads to unexpected kisses.
Very soft and beautiful.
Sorry for the Repetition by harcourt
When Tony fails to save Clint from a mission gone bad, there's only one thing to do. Reset the clock and try again.
So he builds a machine that allows him to go back in time in an attempt to change fate...but he fails again and again and suddenly he's not confident anymore. He's terrified that he'll never be able to save his lover.
Read the tags first. Heart-wrenching angsty and so well done!
devil on your shoulder by desitonystark
As an Angel, Tony's job is to investigate potential humans, assess whether they're fit to enter Heaven. The worst (read: best) part of that job, is what when Hell got word of their investigations, they started sending Clint to accompany him.
Some lovely bickering!
And bonus, since I’m not above some shameless self-promotion:
Le cirque des mirages by me
Tony Stark falls in love only three times in his whole life: once it’s with an institution and the other two times with a person. Both times it’s the same person.
I’m quite proud of this one. That’s it, hope you’ll like some of them, cause I love them all a lot! Enjoy reading :)
Hey, I really hope I'm not annoying you with my IronHawk requests but 19. "Why is there a deer in the room?" from the general list is SO them! If you wanna :)
general #19: “Why is there a deer in the room?” from this prompt list
It’s been a long day at the office. An excruciatingly long day. The kind of day that Tony thought he was never going to have after he passed over CEO to Pepper. He would like to get back to his penthouse, that he shares with his boyfriend (partner? lover? kept-boy?); find the nearest comfortable surface and melt into a distinctly non sexual horizontal position with said boyfriend.
But he can’t, because Tony has stepped out of the elevator into his penthouse, and there’s a deer in his penthouse.
A tall, four legged, brown deer, who seems extremely interested in the horrifyingly expensive cushions that Pepper insisted were essential for the decor of the room.
Tony’s frozen, having barely stepped out of the elevator; suit jacket slung over his shoulder; staring at the deer.
Clint skids into the room carrying, something that Tony can’t identify in one of the pots that they store away and generally reverse for when they’re having multiple guests and Tony is expected to make pasta for twenty people instead of the usual two - and stills when he sees Tony standing near the elevator.
“Hi honey,” Clint says brightly, too brightly, Tony thinks dimly, but he’s more focused on the deer, “You’re home.”
Tony wants to say I am, or Hi sweetheart, but what comes out is a strangled, “Why is there a deer in the room?”
“The zoo,” Clint says, as if that explains everything, and places the large pot near the deer, who abandons the cushion for whatever’s inside the pot.
“I’m going to need more than that,” Tony manages to get out, and there must be something in his tone because Clint looks like it’s finally occurred to him that bringing a deer into their home isn’t standard behaviour.
Tony isn’t an expert in relationships, but he’s been in enough to confidently say that this isn’t standard behaviour.
(He makes a mental note to call Pepper and double check)
“The zoo was going to put him down,” Clint furrows his brow, “I told you this over breakfast yesterday. You said, and I quote, that I have your full support to do whatever is necessary to save the deer.”
Tony remembers the breakfast. More to the point, he remembers the blowjob he got at breakfast. He would’ve promised Clint the moon to get his mouth back on his dick.
“And whatever is necessary meant bringing him into our house?”
“Her,” Clint tuts, “and yes. For now anyway. You have property with expansive grounds somewhere right?”
“I’ve got a cabin in South Caroline in the forest,” Tony confirms, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Clint liberated a deer from the zoo.
“Perfect,” Clint walks up to him and presses a kiss to his cheek, “We can go this weekend. Dinner’s going to get cold if you keep standing there.”
devil on your shoulder | AU-gust Day 4: Angels and Demons AU
AU-gust masterlist
for @justsomeoneunordinary
“I don’t want to hear it. You’re evil; you manipulate your words to deceive people.” (from this prompt list)
//
Humans were dreadfully complicated creatures. They had all sorts of motivations and intentions and conflicting life experiences that made it incredibly messy for Angels to assess whether or not they were to be granted safe passage to Heaven. This meant, more often than not, Pepper sent Tony down personally to investigate the life that the human had led.
It wasn't that Tony was averse to spending time on Earth, there was something freeing and oddly fulfilling about shedding his wings for their odd clothing and walking amongst humans with the knowledge that he had. It was that Hell recently got word of his field trips (for lack of a better word) down to Earth and decided that it was the fair and just thing (as if Demons ever cared about fair and just) to send an envoy of their own.
That meant that Tony was spending his time on Earth with Clinton.
"Natasha Romanoff," Pepper slides the file across to Tony, who thumbs it open to see the striking figure of a petite redhead, "I need you to go down there for a couple months. Figure out what her story is."
"It says here that she has almost two hundred kills to her name," Tony looks up at Pepper with a furrowed brow, "Surely this isn't a hard judgement to make."
Pepper's face twists, and if Angels were capable of grimacing, that's what Tony would've called her expression, "This isn't from me. This is from the Woman upstairs. Says that Natasha reminds her of somebody and wants to make sure we're doing the right thing before we condemn her to Hell."
Tony wants to say something, but he knows better to argue with Pepper, so he dips his head slightly and sees himself out. It's quick work to pack a small bag of essentials and glamour his wings away; his white robes falling away to reveal a loose black tee and jeans. He stretches a couple of time experimentally, shaking out his fingers - and stuffs the file inside his quiver.
Then he stretches his hands out, palms facing up; and falls.
This is always his favourite part, the way the air whips around him and the world shifts and changes before his very eyes. He knows that when the Demons fell, it wasn't fast or smooth or painless - that Heaven wept for their pain, but he can't tell but imagine that it must have felt something like this.
He falls gracefully into a back-alley, narrowly missing a hunkering black trash-can filled to the brim. When he's finishing dusting himself off and looks up, Clint is leaning against the wall and looking at him with a smile, dressed in some sort of purple monstrosity.
"Clinton," he says with faux politeness, "I presume you're here about Natasha Romanoff?"
"Is that her name?" he pursues his lips, and Tony hates him all at once because he'd never known lust until he met Clint, "I've been calling her Little Red in my mind. You know because she's -"
"petite and a redhead," Tony finishes, "yes I can put that together for myself thank you."
Clint beams at him, "I always knew you were a smart cookie. You're wasting away upstairs. You should come and hang out with me sometimes." He waggles his eyebrows in a way that's clearly meant to be suggestive, but damn if it doesn't stir something inside of Tony, "I can show you how the other half lives."
"No thank you," Tony says shortly, and he must imagine the way that Clint's face falls, because it’s gone in a second, "I like where I am right now."
/
"So, correct me if I'm wrong but Little Red -"
"Natasha -"
"Natasha has, or had rather, past tense - " Clint touches his forehead and then his chest, before moving to his shoulders, and it takes Tony an absurdly long amount of time to realise that he's just made a cross. The thought makes him want to laugh, but he bites his tongue, " - has an incredibly long list of victims."
He twists so that he's walking backwards, and Tony wants to reach out and grab him because he's expertly flitting through the crowd, and it's going to give them away, "Which begs the question, what're you guys interested in her for?"
Tony shrugs, "I'm not sure," he says honestly, "I asked Pepper the same question. All she said was that the woman upstairs thought that Natasha was worth redeeming, so I had to come and investigate."
"You don't feel the same," Clint says knowingly, and Tony flushes. "It's not for me to decide who is and is not worthy," Tony says loyally.
Clint snorts, "that sounds like a Company line. Pepper tell you to say that one too?"
Tony doesn't say anything. Mostly because it was Pepper who told him to say that, but he doesn't want to give Clint the satisfaction. From the way Clint smiles though, he has the feeling that he already knows.
"If you think she's a shoe in for Hell," he says, to change the topic, "Why did you come up to investigate?"
Clint puts a hand against his chest and gasps theatrically, "And miss a chance to see you? Never."
Tony's cheeks heat, and he resolves to keep quiet for the rest of their time together.
He missed the time when all humans did was eat forbidden apples and lie. Things were so much easier then.
Undeterred by Tony's vow of silence (probably because he was unaware of said vow), Clint fishes out a file from his quiver. It's also purple. "Born and raised in Russia," he reads aloud, "Graduate of the Black Widow programme before she defected and worked for -" he squints his eyes, even though Tony knows that he has perfect vision, "Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division."
He whistles lowly, "They need to find a way to shorten that. That's a mouthful. Imagine having to yell that on the job." He thrusts out his hand in a facsimile of the few humans they'd seen in law enforcement during one of their trips down, "STOP. I'm Agent Clint of Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division."
Tony can't help it, he giggles; eyes crinkling. "The person you're catching would run away by the time you finished," he agrees. "I think they call it SHIELD, for short," Clint looks at him with a quizzical expression and he rushes to explain, "I was investigating a human once, an Agent Coulson. He worked for the same agency."
"I can't believe you sat on that information, and allowed me to embarrass myself in front of all of these humans," Clint gestures around widely, even though they're in a secluded portion of the park and there's nobody around to watch them, "One would think you were out to get me Tony."
"That would be outrageous and ill-founded," Tony replies in a deadpan voice, and resolutely ignores the way his heart skips a beat.
"You're a little shit aren't you?" Clint says with ill disguised awe, and jostles Tony with his shoulder, "Under all that Angel-ness, you're a little bit like me."
"No," Tony says with a frown, "You're evil. You manipulate your words to deceive people. I'm nothing like you."
Clint's silent for a couple of seconds, and Tony sneaks a glance at him, worried that he's offended the Demon. His face betrays nothing though, and he throws his arm around Tony's shoulder, pulling him in closer. "I'll get you to admit it eventually," he says with a smile, even as Tony's face goes red because of their proximity, "but for now - I believe we have a pirate to interview about our redhead."
T, 3.7k, IronHawk, Fluff & Angst, Underage Drinking, Druge Use, Implied Child Abuse & Self-Harm, H/C - it’s all not that intense, there’s fluff too | AO3
―
The first time Tony fell in love he was eight years old.
His father was abroad for a week on a business trip and his mother and Jarvis took the opportunity to watch with him a circus performance. From the very second the director entered the arena Tony was completely entranced.
With awe in his eyes he watched the trainer tame a real lion, which almost took his breath away throughout the whole show. The horse spectacle put a smile on his face bright enough to reach from one ear to the other. Even the clowns made him laugh, although it took him only seconds to see through their tricks.
But his personal highlight were the acrobats; Those men and women bending the laws of physics according to their own visions through sheer muscle strength and concentration with grace and beauty. How they performed stunts in breathtaking elegance and finesse Tony never even could have dreamed of.
Throughout the whole show his mother failed to make him sit still ― because Tony, Tony felt like he was flying.
Even months later, his eyes still reflected the sparkle of the cheery-colorful costumes. He told everyone who wanted to hear ― and those who didn’t ― about his mathematical calculations, which he puzzled over for days. At what angle someone had to hold their pose in order to balance on a rope in the middle of the air, despite the high air resistance. How much strength it needed in the arms to swing from ring to ring without falling on the floor with a loud thump. Or how strong one had to push their legs so that another person could position themselves onto the feet.
Years passed and Tony never wished for anything other than watching a circus performance for his birthday. In every second that he didn’t convulsively try making his father proud, he dreamed of big tents, the interior filled with multicolored lights, and the feeling of warmth in his chest.
His illusions stopped all of a sudden when he was fourteen years old and his much older classmates all thought of him as boring. Instead, he began to devote himself to the art of seduction and became friendly with the taste of whiskey on his tongue.
But buried deep inside, the circus always remained his personal sanctuary.
―
The second time Tony fell in love he was seventeen years old.
Dead drunk and with no memory of the last three hours, he found himself right in front of a circus tent, the loud shouts from the inside announcing the beginning of a show. He didn’t know how his feet carried him to somewhere in the middle of nowhere, but instead of ordering a cab back to the MIT campus, he bought a ticket and before he knew it, he was in the middle of that turmoil that only tormented his drunken head even more.
Though the majority of the performance flew past him in a shimmer of colors and roars, he grasped enough to see that this was not a conventional circus. The acrobats sometimes lacked some limbs, knife throwers threw at each other and not at targets, fire-eaters jumped simultaneously on trampolines, clowns juggled with swords… if Tony hadn’t been so sure that he hadn’t touched a single joint that day, he would have been convinced he was high.
Just when he thought the performance was over and he was ready to go back―
“And now a big round of applause for the star of our show, The World’s Greatest Marksman! Or as you know him: Hawkeye!”
―the wind was taken out of his sails.
A boy, not possibly older than fifteen, entered the arena in a purple suit, bow in one hand and arrow case in the other over his shoulder swinging. His blond hair looked like he had just gotten out of bed, a scar ran across his right cheek and a devil-may-care grin graced his lips.
Tony was immediately captivated in its spell. As if hypnotized, he watched this boy shoot his arrows at the moving targets in a matter of seconds without looking at them once, and each time hitting bull’s eye. Watched the muscles of the upper arms illuminated by the spotlight move as the bow was pulled. Watched him roll in midair as he was light as a feather.
Tony couldn’t help but return the next day. And the day after that. And as often as possible until more than a month had passed and his fascination with Hawkeye still didn’t find an end at all. He no longer even looked the other attractions anymore, but only had eyes for the mysterious and mesmerizing archer.
Then, the circus did what all circuses do ― they moved.
And Tony followed.
But Tony was first and foremost an MIT student, and there was only so much he could do. If he hadn’t been a billionaire’s son with unlimited access to his fortune since hacking into Howard’s bank account years ago, he would never have been able to follow them across the states whenever he had a day off.
Before he knew it, two years had passed and Tony had graduated from the university with two doctorates. The circus had once again temporarily taken root in New York, where he also planned to complete his third doctorate.
Since his third visit, he could’ve sworn that Hawkeye winked at him at the end of each of his shows ― this assumption was confirmed when, once again, he was the last one left in the tent, sweetly dazed from the marijuana mixed with the bitter taste of the whiskey, before carefully stumbling outside.
“Y’know,” greeted him a chirpy-cheerful voice to his left, “they call me Hawkeye because I observe a lot and see things better from a distance. Not just see, but see, know what I mean?”
“Ah, and here I thought it’s because you’ve got a bat’s sense of hearing,” Tony couldn’t help but say. At least this earned him an amused snort.
“Nah, ‘m hard of hearing and if I weren’t so good at lip reading, I wouldn’t have understood a word of what you just babbled,” came the witty answer Tony admittedly hadn’t expected. “I must’ve left quite an impression that you watch my shows regularly over two years, huh?”
Oh, haughty. Tony liked that a lot. “Who says I’m here for you? Maybe I’m just here because of the incredible Swordsman, ever thought about that, huh?”
Another snort. “Two words: Hawk. Eye.”
Technically, this was still just one word, but okay, he won that round, Tony didn’t know how to counter that.
Then, with a jerk, he pushed himself off the pole he had been leaning against and came so close to Tony that they breathed the same air. “Name’s Clint,” he introduced himself with a mischievous grin on his face.
Which Tony already knew. Clinton Barton, seventeen, joined together with his older brother Barney the circus when he was only nine years old. Tony did not stalk him; those are the only information he had dug up ― he just really had wanted to know who that amazing archer was.
“Tony Carbonell”, he said, like the professional liar that he was, and grinned right back.
Clint nodded once, licked his lips and asked uninhibited, “Wanna fuck?”
Hell yes, he almost shouted, if… if he hadn’t seen something in Clint’s sky-blue eyes that he couldn’t quite identify. A mixture of insecurity, fear and caution ― once bitten, twice shy, he thought. Tony understood that there depended more from his answer than just its semblance.
“Thanks, but not today. Perhaps some other time, if the offer still stands then.”
As if on command, Clint’s whole posture visibly relaxed, as if an invisible weight had fallen from his shoulders. Jackpot.
“Do you want to share a joint with me instead?” Tony seamlessly changed the subject, like he had learned from child on as the center of the media to let a conversation dance according to his pipe.
Clint shrugged. “Sure, why not?” Which is how minutes later Tony learned that Clint had never smoked a joint before. He also learned that Clint was a terrific storyteller. In particular, however, he learned that Clint’s laugh could even lighten a cathedral.
In less than two hours, the two of them became best friends. And less than three weeks of those regular meetings, they became lovers.
When one night under the starry sky Clint kissed him on the mouth without even a warning ― in the middle of the sentence ― it was as if the world had stood still. Chaotic and moisty and interrupted by their drunken laughter, it was the worst and best kiss of his life.
Two days later, Tony rented a shabby little flat in Manhattan that was about to collapse. Strictly speaking, he bought the whole building, but he twisted the truth there a little bit. That was the only way how he could bring Clint home without Howard knowing about it and without Clint getting wind of his wealth.
“I like your place. Nice view,” mocked Clint. After that there was not much left to say, because Tony wanted to inaugurate this apartment. Years ago, Tony had already lost all interest in virgins, but Clint’s inexperience was a delight that surprised even him. Every single touch left his skin tingling and made his heart flutter in an irregular rhythm. Clint tasted like honey and smoke, like nutmeg and vodka, like strawberries and chili ― he tasted like love.
Even in the dim light of the apartment, Tony took every opportunity to trace the contours of Clint’s muscles crafted by his archery training, and to memorize Clint’s facial expression forever at his climax. Not even Michelangelo could have captured the subtleties of such beauty.
Being in a relationship with Clint was nothing Tony had ever experienced before. But not everything thereof was positive. There were hardly any days when Clint wasn’t covered in bandages and plasters or grazes. Most of them Tony knew that they were the result of Clint’s clumsiness, who stumbled over his own feet even on flat ground and then broke his nose masterfully. But some of them were too deep, too clean, too precise. Tony knew what it looked like trying to make a wound look like an accident.
Once, Tony didn’t have enough whiskey left, so he brushed his teeth with gin and tonic. When he tried to kiss Clint afterwards, he was pushed so strongly that his butt landed on the floor. Clint threw up in the toilet and collapsed there, trembling and bathing in sweat.
Howard may have been an absent father who never showed a shred of interest in Tony, but at least he’d never raised his hand against his own family. Tony swore to never even look from the canthus at a gin again.
Ultimately, however, the shady sides were covered by the sunny ones. Because that was how it felt like to be with Clint ― like a warm sunny day, the rays of which finding their way into his deepest parts.
After the circus moved again, Tony continued to visit as often as he could. They then spent the nights in Clint’s bed, where Barney could catch them at any moment. It was absolutely worth the risk. And Tony didn’t have the slightest clue how, but Clint managed to convince the circus director to stay in New York more often and longer. For completely selfless reasons, he claimed.
Often it was impossible for Tony to hide his true intellect, simply because he didn’t want to. Only two months into their relationship, he learned to use ASL fluently. If Clint had had more TV access or at least a little interest in magazines, he would have quickly known who Tony really was.
“You are really good with those computers, aren’t you?”
An understatement for Tony, especially considering that Clint had already met DUM-E. But he just hummed simply while he continued to work on his next AI and enjoyed Clint’s feather-light kisses on his neck.
“Can you also hack and stuff?”
Here he had to laugh softly. “Three years ago, Rhodey bet with me that I could never ever hack the Pentagon. Guess who won.”
“Cool.” There was a grin on the back of his neck Tony could literally feel.
Which was the only explanation for how it happened that Tony hacked into NASA’s server an hour later and, while he was already there, corrected a few of their mathematical equations. It wasn’t even in the top ten of the most dangerous things he had done with Clint. Their relationship might’ve been a lot of things, but sure as hell never boring.
Two years later Howard was driving drunk, killing not only himself but also Tony’s mother. From then on, everything went down the drain.
Tony almost drank himself into nirvana and when he suddenly woke up in the bed of his apartment with a pounding headache, he found Clint snuggled up next to him. Tears adorned his eyes, which were darker than usual and reminded him of blueberries ― Tony’s new favorite fruit, as he decided at exact that moment.
Clint said nothing, he didn’t need to. In the end, Howard Stark and Harold Barton were more alike than Tony had first thought. He tried not to think about having no excuse anymore to take over his legacy and that Uncle Obie would soon find him. Instead, he hugged Clint closely and placed a tender kiss on his temple while he could still do so. The steady heartbeat of Clint’s and his hand stroking trough his hair was the only reason he stayed sane.
Love, Tony thought, must be the power of the gods.
Twelve days later, he received a call from the hospital where Clint was taken to the ER. He had had to be resuscitated during the operation and was now lying unconscious in bed tied up on various machines.
It was only after 37 hours that he finally woke up.
Jacques, the Swordsman, had stolen money from the circus and when Clint tried to tell the director, he was downright beaten to death. Barney had just turned his head and left him on the floor. Tony didn’t show his anger even for a second while those incidents were being recited. He waited for Clint to fall asleep again and then contacted his lawyers ― after hitting the wall with his fist until it was red with blood as the rage boiling through his veins like hot lava.
Tony accepted that it was probably time to tell Clint about the things he had been hiding. It wasn’t that he had deliberately wanted to lie for two years, he was only afraid that Clint would turn away from him as soon as he knew who Tony really was. His pejorative attitude towards the rich clearly spoke for it.
But Tony had the means to help Clint, so he would take the risk. He decided to address this as soon as they were home. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in the hospital.
“Yesterday,” Clint began to say out of the blue on the fourth day of his hospital stay, “one of those suit wearers came to visit me. Coulson or something’s his name. Miracle he could sit down with the giant stick in the ass.”
He interrupted himself because of a fit of giggling. The painkillers had a strong effect on Clint. “Anyway,” he continued after a few minutes, “he offered me a job. Said they could use someone with my particular skillset.”
After a long break Tony asked, “And?”
“And… I think I want to take a look at that offer.”
Tony scratched his chin where he had started to grow a goatee. He wasn’t sure what to do with this information. It sounded to him as if he’d never see Clint again, as irrational as the thought was.
“Will you… will you come back?” he just had to ask, while carefully taking Clint’s hand in his and slowly following the early rough lines crafted from archery. He would never tire of the feeling of Clint’s hand in his.
This earned him a smile, so bright that his eyes shone even more beautiful than the stars in the sky. “Of course. I will always come back to you, Tony.”
But in the end, their relationship had been nothing more than a circus of illusions. A world where Tony could just be himself. Not Tony Stark, child prodigy, son of the so-called ‘Icon of America’s Strength’, heir to a multibillion-dollar company ― just Tony. A world in which he was loved not for his money or fame, but for his heart.
A world in which Clint wasn’t the victim of child abuse. In which he wasn’t betrayed by his only brother and left behind to die. In which he didn’t hurt himself just to see if he could still feel. In which he hadn’t run away from anything all his life and wouldn’t do it again. Simply a world in which he was happy.
Because that was where they both gave in to the illusion. They had been so busy with being happy that they both forgot one important thing: Life always caught up with you.
Twenty years and almost the end of the world had to pass for their paths to finally cross again.
―
The third time Tony fell in love he was forty-two years old.
Rubble and ashes had made themselves comfortable in his new home. A huge crater graced the floor of his living room and the Avengers stood awkwardly in the middle, as if ordered and not picked up.
This was the first time the circus had found him, instead of the other way around.
Clint leaned against the back of the sofa and was inspecting his bow. His face was decorated with shiners and blood, though this time Tony at least knew where they came from. His posture screamed nonchalance, but his frown whispered unease.
Without thinking about it, he stood next to him, their shoulders almost touching, and continued to look at him out of the corner of his eye. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t have stayed away ― Clint has always had a magnetic attraction on him.
“So, you’d come back, huh?”
Clint didn’t seem fazed at all. But the days Tony was able to read him like an open book were over a long time ago. He wondered if Clint even realized that he built the Stark Tower on exact the same spot their apartment used to be, before he had the building torn down.
“So, Tony Carbonell, huh?” came the snarky reply.
Okay, fair enough. “My mother’s maiden name was Carbonell, so I didn’t lie technically.”
“Well, I came back now, so technically I didn’t lie either.” And then Clint had the utter gall to grin at him. Tony almost punched him.
He thought of all those days he had been waiting in the apartment for Clint to return. Thought of all those hours he stared at the telephone in case of a call. Thought of all those times he anxiously went to hospitals and police stations, hoping to find Clint somewhere there.
After six months of unsuccessful searching, he had resigned himself to the fact that Clint no longer wanted him. That he had found out who Tony really was and that he’d just left him to twist in the wind.
Whiskey had found its way through his blood system more than ever. Cocaine had blurred his reality until he ended up in the ER which is why he stopped with it immediately. Men and women had warmed his bed, imitating what he and Clint had had. His nights have never been the same again.
Even after Tony moved to California ― trying to chase the sun’s rays, which Clint had always made shine for him ― he never quit their apartment lease. Just in case. Instead, he installed a camera there that J.A.R.V.I.S. could access. Just in case. Throughout all those years, he had looked at the death notices every day with trembling nostrils. Just in case.
It suddenly dawned on Tony why the alarm bells always rang when he saw Coulson. The new job. Special Agent Clint Barton ― codename: Hawkeye. From the circus’ star attraction to a high ranked spy. Now an Avenger. Tony had always known that Clint’s life had been nowhere near normal ever.
He took a deep breath before turning his gaze back to Clint. Tony chose his next words very carefully. “In the past twenty years I’ve done some stupid things that I can’t even begin to list. Many of them were created under the influence of alcohol,” here he looked him straight in the eye without a hint of hesitation, “but not once have I even touched a gin again.”
When Clint finally dropped his mask ― his own illusion of indifference ― Tony was able to pinpoint it the exact moment it happened. His light blue eyes, previously disinterested and dull, shone in a new light, encased by insecurity and adoration, shame and mischief, pleading for forgiveness and radiating warmth all at the same time. A mess of feelings, each of which Tony was allowed to identify and classify.
“I like your new place. Nice view,” Clint just replied. The meaning of his words made his heart skip a beat. Warmth filled him from within that Tony couldn’t help but give him a shy smile, full of trust and hope.
When suddenly Clint put his arm around Tony’s shoulders, it was as if they were both just two stupid teenagers again, bathing in each other’s attention and the weight on their shoulders not yet so heavy that it dragged them down. The bare spot on his neck, which wasn’t covered by the Iron Man armor, tingled with the touch. Blood roared in his ears and a wave of emotions hit him so hard it almost took his breath away.
Tony threatened to lose the ground under his feet. In order not to panic and kiss Clint directly on the mouth here and now, he blurted out the only thing he could do to deliberately hide the upcoming tears in his eyes: “So, shawarma?”
Clint’s loud laugh echoed through the room like a bird’s song in a cave.
