Chapter Text
Tony Stark, born brilliant. Tony Stark, born in front of a camera. Tony Stark, born charming. Tony Stark, born a cat in a dog eat dog world. He remembers a lot of his childhood, he remembers empty rooms, and nice maids.
Tony remembers being 4 years old, a circuit board grasped in his tiny hands, Tail twitching in excitement. He remembers the single instant where his father’s arm rested on his shoulders just before the camera flashes. He remembers seeing the picture in the paper and marveling at how happy he looked.
Tony remembers his sixth birthday, Maria and Howard were out of town for business. He remembers a month afterwards when he was standing in front of an engine, his father’s hand on his shoulder, and a smile that reached his eyes. He remembers Jarvis, and never lacking in hugs.
Tony remembers turning seven, Howard was in Japan for work, and Maria was at a charity gala in Cabo. He remembers leaving for boarding school before either of them came home. There he was the youngest among many rich entitled kids, both the smartest and the weakest. He remembers many hands extended as fists, and none in friendship. He remembers the way the teachers sneered at his rough housing, and smartass answers.
Tony remembers that first Christmas break, remembers Jarvis pulling him into a hug the moment he was off the plane. It was the first hug, the first friendly touch he had felt in months. Every Christmas break after that goes the same, the warmth of Jarvis’ hug erasing the stress of school.
Tony remembers the day of his parent’s funeral. Remembers Obidiah standing at his back, supporting him. He remembers a hug and an assurance that it would be okay. He remembers wondering how anything could be okay when Jarvis would never hug him again.
Tony remembers a week later when he fell into bed with a woman, he doesn’t remember her name, at the time he barely remembered his own. He remembers the feeling of her skin on his though.
Tony remembers accepting an award at twenty three, Obie’s arm around his shoulder. He remembers realizing people only touched him when they wanted something. With women, it was most often sex or money. Obie wanted fame, fortune, professional behavior, and new weapons. It took him a while to accept the fact that he didn’t really care what they wanted, not if he got a second of contact.
He also remembers the day Rhodey left for the air force. He remembers the warm hug he got. His tail curled down between his legs. He remembers realizing that Rhodey, like Jarvis, didn’t have an intent beyond caring about Tony. Then he remembers Rhodey letting go.
Tony remembers a long stream of one night stands, and the feeling of skin on skin. He remembers the warmth of it.
Tony remembers returning from Afghanistan with a self-destruct button for a heart, and the knowledge that there would be no more one night stands. He remembers Obie’s hands on his shoulder as he pulled the Arc out.
Tony remembers that night spent with Pepper in his arms, and he remembers letting her go when she asked him to.
Tony remembers the night he killed Obie, his uncle, remembers knowing that the man had nearly killed him. Despite that, he remembers mourning the arm around his shoulder, the pats on the back. Remembers the way Obie would fuss with his hair during interviews, his ears twitching. He mourns the man he thought he knew.
Tony remembers the day the Avengers agreed to move in, and the way his tail twitched with excitement.
“Okay, they’re supposed to be here at three. I’m ready. Jarvis, are all of their rooms ready? We set up the passive surveillance systems so they’re not uncomfortable, sorry buddy. Steve’s looks suitably retro right? And Natasha’s bed is that really nice memory foam she said she liked.” Tony babbles, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. He hasn’t gotten any sleep since they agreed to move in three days ago. His hair is so messy you can barely see his ears. “Jarvis? Do you think they’ll like it?” No time to sleep, he had to prep all their rooms.
“Of course, all the suitable preparations have been completed Sir. I am sure they will love it.” Jarvis assures him, Tony nods attempting to settle down. His tail is lashing anxiously through the air.
“That’s good, everything is good. Should I shave? I need to shave.” He practically leaps into the other fingers absently tracing over the messy edges of his goatee.
“Sir, this is not a date, I do not believe shaving is necessary.” Jarvis cuts in before Tony can hit the button for the pent house. “Nor do you have time considering your guests have arrived.”
“They’re here? Jarvis why didn’t you tell me? I need to go down to the lobby to get them, oh god I don’t know the social etiquette for this.” He tries to fic his hair in the reflection on the back of the elevator doors, but his ears twitching anxiously are not helping. The doors slide open to reveal a calm group of Avengers, Tony drops his hands.
“Hello Mr. Stark, thank you for inviting us.” Steve greets, hefting his duffel bag up onto his shoulder. Tony waves at him nervously surprised the Captain didn’t offer a handshake.
“It’s no problem at all Cap, and please dear god call me Tony.” He smiles standing to the side to gesture them into the elevator. He hopes his tail isn’t twitching too much, he’s just so excited, and nervous.
“Still, it’s nice of you to do this, open your home to us.” Natasha pitches in offering him a warm smile. Her eyes are searching, he wonders if she expects an ulterior moment.
“It’s your home now too. Don’t sweat it okay.” He says, Clint grunts an affirmative getting a very obvious elbow to the side. Tony watches mildly impressed when the man manages not to drop his stack of boxes.
“Oh yeah, thanks for doing this dude.” He peeks his head around the side, offering up an appreciative smile. Tony notes that all of the boxes have Natasha’s handwriting on them.
“Okay.” Tony claps his hand together, and starts hitting elevator buttons. “Natasha, you’re on floor 74, Clint you get 75, there are multiple connection points between the two, feel free to use them or close them off as you wish.” Tony says, gesturing for Natasha to look into the eye scanner. “Steve you get 76, and I’m saving 77 for your scary friend.”
“Tony we don’t need whole floors, just a bedroom would be fine.” Steve protests. Looking at the duffel bag Tony suspects that might be true, he’ll need to buy Steve things to fill up his space.
“Speak for yourself Rogers.” Clint hisses. Knocking his shoulder against Steve’s with as much force as he can risk. His tail swishes back and forth, playful. It probably hurt his shoulder more than Steve, but seeing as the soldier isn’t protesting anymore Tony elects to ignore it.
“Bruce is staying on floor 78, although the Hulk room expands onto 79, which is why that’s Thor’s room. He’ll most likely be here the least and therefore need the least amount of space.” Tony explains, waving off Steve’s question before he can ask. “Yes, Bruce is staying here. Now Common areas are on floor 80, the penthouse is obviously mine, and 81 through 84 are set up for your friend Sam Wilson, guests, more guests, and Rhodey respectively. If you have questions or need assistance you’ll need to go to the common room as Jarvis is not active in your private quarters, passive surveillance only to avoid discomfort.” The Elevator door’s slide open to reveal Natasha’s floor.
“Come on.” She grabs Clint, towing him out of the elevator with her, a large box under one arm. Her ears are completely still on her head, and her tail moves only as much as would be expected, it’s disconcerting.
“No Jarvis beyond this point, but there is a top of the line security system so please try not to break any windows.” Tony says, stepping aside, Clint gets off the elevator while Natasha picks up her own stack of boxes and follows him.
He drops Steve off on his floor, spending a few minutes dodging the profuse thanks from Steve. His tail droops the moment they’re out of sight. Despite their clear appreciation there had been no hugs from any of them.
“Stark!” Clint is bouncing on the balls of his feet, tail wagging eagerly when Tony knocks on his door to check on him. “Stark! Archery Range! On my floor! I love you! You’re the best!” Tony blushes, and for a moment it looks like Clint is going to hug him, instead there’s the warm weight of Clint’s hand on his shoulder for half a second. “I am never leaving this tower, you can’t make me.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Tony says, tail twitching happily. His shoulder feels warm, and his stomach is swooping. He tries to ignore the way his heart is beating against his ribs over such a small touch, but it’s been months since he last saw Rhodey, and he’s missed friendly contact. Sometimes it feels better than flying.
Still, he’s not surprised with the lack of physical contact from the others. After all they were busy moving in, and he knows they all have their own hang-ups to deal with. He’s making a new outfit for Steve, maybe he’ll get a hug when he offers it to him, it’s something to hope for. He meets his own eyes in the mirror, ears pressed back against his skull.
“Stop kidding yourself Stark.” He hisses, glaring his reflection down. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his fur looks lack luster. He probably should consider getting some actual sleep for once. “They’re not going to want you like that. Natasha said it, not a team player, remember? Fucking talking to yourself in the bathroom mirror, no wonder you only have three human friends, and none of them see you regularly.” He turns away with a huff, and sleeps curled up on the couch in the lab.
…
“Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt but Captain Rogers is asking for you.” Jarvis informs him. Tony turns off his laser welder, and flips up his mask. “Captain Rogers wants to have a team dinner tonight on the common floor.” Tony’s ears swivel forward in interest.
“They want me to be there?” He asks, tail curling up hopefully. There’s no one here but Jarvis, and still the caution creeps into his voice. He can’t help but hide his hope behind an air of nonchalance.
“Of course, they asked for you specifically.” Jarvis says. They obviously wanted him there, even if Jarvis was still wary of them, they did seem to like Sir.
“Okay, okay, tell Cap I’ll be there.” He hides a smile behind his welding match, tail flicking back and forth happily. “Also, set a reminder for me. I don’t want to miss dinner.”
“Of course, Sir.” Jarvis replies.
…
“Sir, this is your alarm for dinner. I would recommend a shower and a change of clothes first.” Jarvis says. Tony nods, saving his files, and hopping off his stool.
“I thought it wasn’t a date Jarvis.” Tony teases, practically skipping to the elevator. The team wants to spend time with him, they’re going to eat together.
“It is not, but it is generally accepted that cleanliness is a requirement for social eating.” Jarvis shoots back. “And I’m afraid engine grease is not a staple of cleanliness.” Tony snorts a laugh.
“Fine, I’ll shower. Thanks J.”
…
Team dinner is awkward, to say the least. Tony sits between Clint and Natasha, and eats quietly while they pass insults back and forth. He’s not sure what to say, but he’s basking in the atmosphere. Still he notices the lack of physical contact, and has to decide not to be bothered by it. He’s bothered by it.
He goes to the next team dinner, and Steve makes it a weekly thing so he goes to every one after that. He goes to training once a week and tries to live off of awkward bushes of hands when passing food, and pulled punches during training. He reminds himself daily that just because they’re here, doesn’t mean they have to like him. They don’t owe him hugs.
Tony was fine, really. Completely, and totally fine.
…
He’s finished their upgrades, and he’s bouncing off the walls waiting for the team to come pick them up. He tries to look busy but his attention is trained on the door. The elevator doors slide open, and he’s twisting around in his chair.
“I made things!” He says, grabbing Clint’s new automated quiver off the table. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, and his tail is twitching against his shoulder blades.
“Hi Tony, thank you for inviting us to your lab.” Steve smiles at him. Tony nods eagerly, and holds the quiver out to Clint.
“I made you a thing.” He repeats. Steve frowns at that. Tony is too excited to worry about social niceties, hugs are a relatively normal part of gratitude, he might be about to get a hug.
“Is that a quiver? Holy shit, gimme.” Clint makes grabby hands, Tony beams at him and presses a button, there’s a whirring mechanical noise as the arrow head attaches to the shaft. “Shit she’s automated, what a beaut.” Tony blushes, handing the quiver to him. Clint snatches his bow off his back and leaves for the range at a dead run. No hug, Tony isn’t disappointed, but his tail droops slightly. He turns to Natasha.
“Hi Tony.” She greets, laughing at his eager smile. He grabs the wrist bands off the table, and holds them out.
“I upgraded your widow bites, they’re thinner, and they come with strength settings.” He explains, she takes them, strapping them onto her wrists. “You’ve got a stun setting, a knock out setting, a kill setting, and a Thor setting, just in case.”
“Thanks Stark.” She winks at him and rolls her wrist to check the flexibility. “These will be incredibly useful.” She doesn’t hug him on the way out either, his tail drops.
“Okay, Steve hi. I made you some new body armor, less ab plating more protection from blunt and sharp force impact.” Tony explains, pressing a button so a mannequin wheels out. “Also take note, significantly less unnecessary zippers, that look was so nineties Steve, you wouldn’t understand.” Steve smiles awkwardly at him.
“I don’t understand, but I do appreciate the lack of random zippers. Also, the protective features which I’m sure you did great on.” He says. Tony beams at him, bouncing on his heels. He bets Steve gives great hugs. Steve clasps a hand on his shoulder, and Tony revels in the small touch even as his tail scrapes the floor. Maybe if he makes more gear he’ll get an actual hug.
“Tones, you look tired, maybe you should go to bed. You can give me Hulk’s gift tomorrow.” Bruce offers, he’s so kind. If Tony looked bad enough he’d probably help him to bed, hold onto him. That would be nice, but that would be bad. Tony can’t manipulate him like that.
“Okay, I’ll go to bed now.” Tony mumbles, the pattern continues. There’s still brushes of hands, and now the occasional pat on the shoulder from Steve, but absolutely no hugs.
…
The Wizard, as he was calling himself although Tony preferred to just call him Oz, had managed to teleport Tony without the suit. He was a little bloody, a lot bruised, but he’s still standing when the Wizard lands in front of him tail lashing through the air violently. The Wizard lobs a ball of glowing something at his chest, presumably magic.
“You live in that suit, in your masks. You live with your lies, let’s see how the world likes you when your deepest desire spills from your lips. Let’s see if your team will still like you, knowing how awful you are.” The Wizard sneers at him. Tony’s jaw clicks as he clenches it shut, ears pressed back against his head. Oz disappears into this air just as the Shield would have hit his face. Clint grapples down, landing next to him.
“Darkest desire exposed, huh? Truth spell in general or just forcing the reveal?” Clint asks, the muscles in Tony’s jaw twitch. “It can’t be too bad. Want to sleep with a man? Want to kill Captain stuck up over here? Want to kill Loki with your bare hands, because I called dibs.” Tony is vibrating with frustration, hands covering his mouth. He desperately wants to remain silent.
“Clint, stop making fun of him.” Natasha scolds, turning her attention away from his faux innocent expression to focus on Tony. “Your desires are not who you are as a person, no matter how dark we won’t blame you.” It’s reassuring, standing in the rubble strewn street surrounded by friends. He turns frightened eyes to Steve and Bruce.
“No judgement Tony.” Bruce assures him, offering a tired smile. Tony’s glad the hulk yoga pants are working for him.
“We won’t.” Steve assures. His shoulders relax slightly, and he drops his hands to his side. His mouth opens against his will.
“I want a hug. Please, I just, all I want is a hug.” He’s begging despite himself, face flushed with embarrassment. It’s so quiet it feels like they’re all holding their breath. Tony feels himself tearing up, his tail dropping further, he can’t meet their eyes. “I understand. I know it’s weak, I’m sorry.” Silence continues and he tries to wipe the tears from his eyes.
“A goddamn hug is your darkest desire?” Clint blurts out, taking a step towards him. Tony nods miserably. “A freaking single hug? How are you such a pure person? Jesus Christ kitten.” Tony finds himself wrapped in strong arms a moment later, Clint’s chin resting on top of his head. “A goddamn hug.” He grumbles.
“I know it’s stupid, and weak, I’m sorry.” He knows he should pull away, prove he isn’t weak. He can’t do it though, he lets himself slump into Clint’s arms, lets himself be held.
“Shut up, you’re such a perfect human being, you’re giving me an inadequacy complex. Your darkest desire is a hug Tony. That’s so pleasant what the hell dude?” Clint is frustrated, more so with himself than anyone else. He should have realized Tony needed a hug.
“It’s not pleasant, just dumb. You guys don’t owe me anything, it’s not fair for me to expect hugs from you. It’s my own fault when I get my hopes up anyways. I’m just dumb.” Tony’s hands are clenched in the back of Clint’s shirt. “You can stop now, I promise I won’t be a bother.”
“I could, but I’m not going to. We’re going back to the tower so we can cuddle.” Clint’s surprised the others haven’t gotten over their surprise and joined the hug. “God, how did I not know you wanted hugs, we could have snuggled non-stop Tony. Cuddles all the time.” Clint laments. Natasha, seemingly over her shock sprints over, leaping into the hug. Tony flinches into Clint just before she makes contact wrapping her arms around the both of them. Tony feels like crying it’s so amazing.
“Don’t be afraid Antoshka.” She grumbles. He can’t meet her eyes, choosing to keep his face buried in Clint’s shoulder. He whines happily when she ruffles his hair, fingers running through the fur on his ears.
“I was bad, I didn’t have the right to assume you’d want to hug me. I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t deserve it.” Tony mumbles. “I can’t expect hugs as payment. There is no buying people’s love.” The words come out sounding like the echo of something he’d heard before repeated again and again. She whacks the back of his head gently.
“You did not assume I would want to hug you, you assumed I would not. There is no harm in asking and offering me the chance to choose for myself.” She scolds. Clint nods, releasing a puff of air in his hair. It tickles his ears.
“I didn’t want any of you to feel obligated, you didn’t owe me anything.” He mumbles, Clint’s grip tightens as Steve and Bruce join the hug, leaving a warm line of contact around his shoulders and across his lower back.
“We don’t feel obligated right now. We like you Tony.” Clint assures him. “We feel guilty maybe, for not realizing how much you could have used a hug. We should have noticed Tones, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, I don’t need hugs anyway. I’m fine.” He grumbles, still he makes no move to pull away from the group. Natasha whacks the back of his head again.
“Shut up Antoshka, you do need hugs.” She scolds, Bruce nods in agreement, he’s slumped into the hug half asleep from the Hulk out. “If you need hugs, we’re happy to provide them.” She stomps on Steve’s foot to prompt him to speak.
“Of course, Tony, you’re our teammate, and our friend. We’re here for you, just like I know you would be for any of us.” Steve starts to pull out of the hug then, and it dissolves, leaving only Clint and Tony wrapped around each other.
“I should probably let go now.” Tony grumbles. His grip on Clint’s shirt only tightens though. Clint nuzzles against his hair while he attempts to figure out how to proceed. They need to get back to the tower, but he has no desire to release his grip on Tony. He slides one arm down around Tony’s waist, resting his hand on Tony’s hip.
“This okay?” He asks, tugging at his vest with his now free hand. Tony nods with such ferocity Clint is vaguely worried he’ll get whiplash. “Perfect, now we just gotta get home, and then we can cuddle on the couch.” Tony nods again, ducking his head down under Clint’s chin, arm around Clint’s waist.
“Thanks Clint.” He mumbles. “You’re my favorite.” He’s not sure if Clint heard him, the words buried in his chest. The walk back to the tower is the nicest, warmest, most pleasant walk of Tony’s life.