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The first thing Tony notices about Clint Barton is that he’s smart.
Yes, he also notices the aim, but that one he didn’t notice, he read from the file. Clint Barton is incredibly sharp, especially for someone who didn’t have a proper school education – ever. First Tony thinks that he’s just battle-savvy, able to notice details others don’t because it’s his job, but then he starts living in the tower.
Even Bruce notices. Clint ismuch, much more intelligent than the average person. It makes Tony wonder what he could have been if he grew up in a normal family, with a normal education.
The second thing Tony notices about Clint Barton is that he’s shy.
Maybe shy isn’t the term as much as socially awkward. It’s not surprising, technically, as he grew up with an alcoholic father, then in a circus that abused him, then became a street thug, and then became a spy. Not exactly the best environment to foster social skills.
When someone Clint doesn’t trust talks to him, Clint goes silent and narrow-eyed, as if he’s examining that person’s intent. When someone he trusts talks to him (Which are exactly 4 people in Fury, Hill, Coulson, and Natasha), Clint relaxes noticeably, even quirking the corner of his lips in a tiny smile.
When someone in the in-between ground, as in someone who he saved the world with and knows he can trust but doesn’t yet – aka Tony himself, Bruce, Thor, and Steve – Clint gets wide-eyed and silent and looks incredibly nervous like a baby deer.
It’s fucking adorable. Tony does it just to see that look.
Until Tony decides to bother the healing Coulson and Fury on the Helicarrier, and he hears Clint being bullied. He’s strolling around the Helicarrier for Steve or Clint or Natasha when he sees it. There are three agents around Clint, sneering at him with words Tony can’t hear just yet.
Clint doesn’t have his usual calculating glare when he’s dealing with people he doesn’t trust. He instead has his head bowed, his eyes glued to the ground, and..
He looks guilty. And scared.
Tony growls out loud and moves closer. As he does, he hears snippets of conversation – threats – that’s enough to tell him they’re picking on him about the Loki incident. Clint looks like he’d rather die, and Tony neatly steps in front of Clint. He feels Clint stiffen immensely, and then relax a fraction when he realizes who it is. “Hey, hey.” Tony’s smile is tight. “Piss off.”
“This isn’t any of your business, Stark.”
“Agent Barton lives in my house. I think it’s my business. We also saved the world together, if you remember. Pretty sure that makes it my business.” Tony jabs a finger in one of the agents’ direction. He doesn’t exactly know what he’ll do if these guys decide to take offense, but at that exact timing there’s an ominous clacking of heels down the hall.
Natasha’s voice is smoothly frigid. “May I help you gentlemen?”
The men bolt. Tony raises an eyebrow in her direction. “Impressive.” He’s about to turn to Clint to ask him if he’s okay, but there’s a sudden movement behind him, and when he turns all he sees is a ceiling vent being put back. “What the.”
Natasha’s laughing. “Get used to it. He does that often. What are you doing here, anyway.”
“I was bored. But he does that often, huh?” Tony stares at the vent. He suddenly has things to do.
--
Tearing apart the tower’s entire ventilation system is a pain in the ass and gives them no air conditioner for an entire 3 hours. But by the time Tony’s done, the vents are wider, cleaner, and much safer to crawl around.
He doesn’t think Clint notices it – maybe Clint hasn’t gone around in his vents before? – but a week later, there’s quiet shuffling of the vent cover in his lab, and a thump down onto the ground. Tony turns, fully aware Clint made noise just for his benefit. Clint shuffles around in the lab, poking a piece of metal, and then says, “Thanks.” It’s a quiet mutter, and Tony looks up to see Clint blushing furiously. “For- for the time in the Helicarrier, and – and the vents.”
Before Tony can say anything, Clint is scrambling up the vents again, clattering the cover back in place. It’s not until Bruce comes in and says, “Why are you smiling like that?”, that Tony realizes he’s been grinning the entire time.
--
Clint makes fast friends with Bruce, which Tony is just a little jealous about. But Bruce is all easy smiles and knows how to calm scared little children, which is essentially what Clint is in Tony’s head.
And Clint getting to be friends with Bruce means Clint is hanging around in the lab all the time, especially now that Natasha’s going on missions and he’s not cleared by the psych department yet. He looks fascinated at everything Bruce and Tony do, blinking owlishly (hawkishly?) at machinery and chemicals, asking questions quietly.
And as Tony noticed before, Clint is incredibly smart, so he drinks it up like water. He never participates, but Tony can tell by the way his eyes move that he’s following everything Steve and Tony, and is fascinated by it.
Clint spending time in the lab means he makes friends with Tony. Tony doesn’t realize it until Clint starts asking him questions, and then it hits him like a freight train and he just stares. Clint looks up from the machinery arm that Tony was poking at, and frowns when Tony doesn’t answer. He looks annoyed.
Tony has never seen Clint annoyed. It looks fucking adorable.
--
Tony wins Clint over with his usual charms. Clint has deemed him trustworthy enough, because his eyes gleam warmly when his face breaks open in a smile. It’s not a battle-smirk that Tony sees all the time. It’s a genuine smile, and Tony loves it. Basks in it. Does all he can all day to see it again.
He’s maybe a bit obsessed.
“Or maybe you’re in love,” Pepper thinks, and she has that I-know-I’m-right look on her face.
Tony groans. “No way. Remember the last time I attempted at that? Didn’t turn out so well.” He looks pointedly at Pepper.
She snorts. “Well, you and I just didn’t work out. But you are smitten head over heels for Clint. I can see it. Everyone can see it minus Clint, and that’s only because Clint has probably never been in such a situation before.”
Tony doesn’t want to mess up Clint’s first time.
But he doesn’t want to give it to anyone else, either.
--
When Tony gathers his guts to casually ask Clint to dinner, Clint looks scandalized and Tony thinks maybe he did this wrong, but then Clint ducks his head and his ears are bright red. “Sure.” He mutters, and Tony grins.
Dinner is at a simple Italian restaurant. Clint looks incredible in a pair of jeans and a hoodie – Tony’s only seem him either in sweats or in his battle outfit. He looks around like he expects someone to kill him in the restaurant, but Tony steers him into the private room. “They’re not going to poison us, Clint.” Clint blushes, sit back into his seat and eyes the beer Tony slides in his direction.
Clint flushes a deeper red. “I – I don’t drink.”
Ah, right, alcoholic father. “No problem.” Tony calls the waiter over. “Two cokes.” He tells the waiter instead, and Clint beams. It’s easy to impress Clint, Tony realizes that night, with the smallest things.
Or, Tony thinks, Clint appreciates it because it’s the small things that matter.
--
It turns out Clint has never tried Italian food minus spaghetti, so Tony orders everything he likes and demands Clint to try all of them. Clint looks scandalized, but Tony promises to have the restaurant pack up whatever’s left so they can take it home.
So they’re currently hauling back four take-home bags, but Clint is laughing and relaxed, and Tony really can’t complain.
Tony buys him ice cream and a slice of cheesecake and it’s fucking nice Clint doesn’t care about spending Tony’s money. Usually people coyly hint that he should be paying, or they outright refuse. Clint acts like Tony should pay because he’s the billionaire, and doesn’t beat around the bush or anything.
It’s a pretty good feeling.
--
They go on more restaurant dates through which Tony finds out Clint has never eaten anything ‘out’ but McDonalds, Chinese, and the shwarma they all had. Tony takes him to Korean, Vietnamese, Thai, Japanese, Italian, French, Spanish, Mexican, Greek, Halal, and anything else he can think of.
Clint likes letting Tony order half the menu, get full on tasting everything, and hauling back the leftovers for Thor and Steve to devour. Tony enjoys watching Clint eat – not in a creepy way. He can tell when Clint likes the food, or when he doesn’t really know what he’s tasting, or when he just flat out dislikes it. He makes notes in his head on what Clint likes and dislikes.
It’s cliché to say, but he’s never really felt this way before.
--
“You can bake?”
Clint shows up one day at the lab with a pan full of cupcakes that he announces he made himself. Bruce looks impressed, takes one, and looks even more impressed.
Tony takes a bite. He wants to kiss Clint on the spot, but he holds himself back. “You made this?” He asks Clint, and Clint looks unsure if what he did is okay, fumbling around with his feet. Tony speaks up hurriedly. “This tastes amazing. How come you never baked before?”
Clint shrugs, looking a little less unsure but still like he ate a worm. “I didn’t think anyone would be interested.”
Tony takes another cupcake. It tastes like heaven. “You should bake for me more often. I love cupcakes. Can you make cake? I love cake. And pie. And muffins. And croissants. And cookies.”
Clint’s worm-face disappears and he cracks a smile at Tony.
--
Clint makes Tony breakfast every morning after that, greeting him with a cup of heavenly smelling coffee, a warm blueberry muffin, and steaming croissants. It makes Tony melt all the time, especially since Clint accompanies the breakfast with the warmest smile.
Two weeks after that, Clint stays up all night at SHIELD. Tony doesn’t expect a breakfast in the morning, but he wakes up to the smell of breakfast as usual. He blinks his eyes open and sees the tray on the bedside table. And a weight on his stomach.
Clint is cuddled up against him, still in SHIELD gear. Tony doesn’t dare move his arm because Clint is using it as a pillow. He stays stock-still for a moment, but then Clint moans in his sleep and blinks his eyes open.
Clint is aware immediately – Tony figures it’s part of the secret agent training – and leaps off the bed, blushing furiously. “Sorry!” He blurts, and tries to leave.
“Wait.” Tony calls before Clint can rush up the vent. “Come on, Clint. It’s okay. You must be tired as fuck. JARVIS, get him some clean clothes. Come here. Sleep. It’s fine.” Clint hovers, apparently split between leaving and staying. Tony gets up and flips the blanket off the bed to pat the empty space. “Clint. Come on. Sleep.”
Clint does hesitantly, and takes the shirt and sweatpants JARVIS hands him. He changes rapidly, almost like he doesn’t want Tony to see anything, and then cuddles up under the sheets. He looks hesitant for a second, so Tony tugs him over. Clint looks shocked, but when Tony grins down at him, he flushes a bright red and ducks his head down.
He’s asleep in moments. Tony watches him for a bit, and as he eats his breakfast, realizes he should finally ask Clint out.
--
When Tony asks, Clint’s face falls. That wasn’t what he was expecting. Before he can say anything, Clint ducks his head and goes, “I thought we were. Already.”
And Tony can’t help it – he laughs. Clint looks bewildered, and offended, but Tony holds his wrist before he can run off. “I like you, Clint. A lot. I have. And I know we’ve been dating – I think so, too, but society sort of makes it ‘official’ only once I’ve asked.” He squeezes Clint’s hand. Clint looks less offended. “I’d like for us to try our hand at a real relationship.”
Clint smiles up at him and squeezes his hand.
--
Clint moves pretty officially into Tony’s floor. Pepper finds them snuggling in bed – rather, she finds Clint scrambling up the vent. “Tony has made you soft,” she calls up at him.
Clint sounds pouty. “No, all this lazing around without a mission made me soft.” He sounds dejected suddenly, and when he drops down from the ceiling vent, he looks depressed. Tony shoots Pepper a glare. She looks apologetic.
--
“So why hasn’t psych cleared him yet? You realize that you’re losing valuable field time for Clint, right?” Tony is pacing back and forth in Fury’s office because he knows that ticks Fury off.
Fury stands his ground. “You just want Agent Barton with you because you two are sleeping together.” Tony frowns. News travels fast.
“Okay, fine, maybe. But I also want Agent Barton with me because it’d be so much easier if we had an eye in the sky for us, shooting things down with perfect aim. He fought in our battle with Loki and he was perfectly fine. Why does he need psych clearing him now?”
Fury sighs, and he looks regretful. “Because Barton killed a lot of psych members.”
Tony slams his fist down on the table. “Don’t. Ever. Say. That.” He says, his voice ice. “Clint didn’t kill anyone.”
--
He finds Clint huddled up in bed. “I killed them.” Clint says when Tony hugs him from the back.
“No, you didn’t. It was Loki. And even if you count technicalities, you only shot down those two guards in Germany. Didn’t kill anyone.” Clint only shakes his head. He curls up into a tight ball on Tony’s bed. Tony leaves to get a cup of water for Clint, just for a second, and Clint is already gone up the air vent.
Tony wants to strangle everyone in psych.
--
Tony almost strangles everyone in psych. What he ends up doing is looming over all of them until they finish clearing Clint, and then until they give him Clint’s battle gear and bow and quiver.
It takes Tony about an hour to track Clint down, and only because he tells Clint that he has the bow and arrows. Clint is in front of him in moments, looking wide-eyed at his bow. Clint reaches for it, and Tony pulls back. Clint looks up, looking like a kicked puppy. “I missed you,” Tony says, and Clint looks like a puppy that was kicked out into the rain. “You avoided me for a full week, you realize that?”
Clint looks like a puppy that was kicked out into the rain and tornado winds. “Sorry.” He shuffles his feet, and looks longingly at his bow again.
“If you were to choose between me and the bow…” Tony cuts himself off, knowing he’s being stupid. Of course Clint’ll pick the bow. It’s been with him since he was about 10. Tony’s been with him since two months ago.
But Clint blinks, surprised. “Of course it’s you.”
Tony stares, and then he can’t help it but pull Clint and push their lips together.