Tony Stark was not jealous why should he be? Tony Stark was too self-obsessed for that emotion and, besides, it wasn't as though anything had really changed to be envious of.

Or at least that was until Natasha pointed out the absence of a certain someone and burst Tony's bubble of denial. "Trouble in paradise? I see your lab partner isn't here. Again." She said, a hint of pride in her words. If Tony didn't value his life, he would have sworn it was Natasha's fault that Bruce kept wandering off. But he wanted to live and, really, he hadn't even noticed Bruce was gone.

"No. Everything's fine and dandy – never been better. The guy needs to let off some steam and without his distractions I've gotten so much done. Improved the shields on the iron man armour by integrating a new polyfibre, never seen before and invented by me, but of course you wouldn't understand that so run along and play with your knives. Or whatever it is you do as I've yet to be fully informed." He rambled, ensuring he walked around the room as he spoke and preferably in a direction where Natasha wasn't. It's not that he was afraid of her, of course he wasn't, it's just that he was smart enough not to get too close to the woman – especially whilst insulting her intelligence. To Tony's surprise, a knife did not come hurtling towards him and, risking a look, Natasha simply smiled a knowing smile before leaving. He hated that look.

Alone once more, Tony's thoughts drifted to how he ended up working alone on his suit when not so long ago it had been 'Tony-and-Bruce', with insomniac nights bouncing theories off of one-another and terrorising the scientific community.

...

"Dance with you? You're joking." Bruce flustered, unable to stop gawking at Clint as though he'd been exposed to too much gamma radiation and had started to grow a rather fitting beak. Or at least that's how Tony saw it. It was New Years Eve and obviously Tony had to throw a party for it. He'd invited all of the Avengers, heck even Nick Fury against his wishes (thanks Pepper), and many many people who knew how to party. Except Reed. And Pym. They both sat in the corner not really talking to others, and were far too involved in their own work to notice Sue and Jan had wandered off hours ago to make sure Johnny wasn't mocking Steve again for not knowing anything about this era.

All in all, Tony had thrown a good party. Even Thor's odd taste in music and determination to play obscure drinking games wasn't going to ruin the evening.

But then Pepper got involved, as usual. She must have seen something in his eyes, or maybe in the way he spoke, and knew that she needed to keep a close eye on Tony. Call it years of practice. Those years did come in handy, however, as the second Tony touched a drop of alcohol he was dragged by the collar to go and sit in the 'corner of shame'. At least that's what Tony called it. Part of him was thankful this wasn't the corner Reed and Hank were in, otherwise he would have caused a scene if whining the entire way to the corner wasn't already classed as a scene. Of course it wasn't.

About ten minutes into his isolation, Tony was ready to plan his escape. He couldn't handle sitting there on his own any longer whilst everyone enjoyed themselves! He was the life of the party – it would die without him there! Thoughts spiralling downwards, he jumped out of his skin when a calm voice cut through the dark atmosphere he was building.

"Wow. If looks could kill I think you could rival the other guy. Your aura is murderous." Bruce chimed in, sounding perfectly calm, yet annoyed enough to scream at everyone in the room at the same time. Tony wondered just how he could even have a voice like that, but he filed it away for later analysis and rolled his eyes. The last thing he wanted right now was the self-depreciative hippy lecturing him on anger management.

When Bruce sat down, Tony realised he hadn't seen him since the party started. The man was wearing a dark blue shirt which was a little too big for him (Tony needed to get the man measured already) with his sleeves rolled up as usual. He wasn't wearing a suit jacket or tie, and had messily thrown on a brown waistcoat and trousers. Yet again, Tony was left questioning the man's fashion sense. At least his hair wasn't beyond frizzy; otherwise he would look like he'd only just crawled out of bed. He knew given the option Bruce wouldn't have turned up in shoes or, even worse, shown up in crocs. He wasn't even wearing socks for God's sake...

"I see you decided against wearing green. Shame about that." Tony mumbled, completely blanking the start of Bruce's lecture. He wouldn't have listened anyway and he pointedly ignored Bruce's glare. Hey, he was good at ignoring things. Perhaps bringing up his clothing suggestion again wasn't a good idea, so before the other could argue – there was no way he wanted to argue with Bruce right now – Tony continued speaking. "Where have you been hiding then? Haven't seen you all evening."

At this, Bruce stopped for a moment before shrugging. "Here? It's not the best of hiding places if you can find me." Ignoring the last part, Tony sat up giving Bruce a disappointed look. To be honest he was annoyed he even expected Bruce to do something different.

"You've been sat in the corner of shame for, what, three hours now? Come on, Bruce! Even Clint is socialising! Clint! You know, the creepy bird guy? About this big, doesn't talk to anyone unless it's to argue?" This only caused Bruce to rub at his temples, not rush off to the dance floor like Tony had expected.

"It's not the same Tony. Clint doesn't like socialising with you. I... can't socialise full stop." Before Tony could start complaining, Bruce continued with a strained smile. "I don't mind the corner. It's nice. Relaxing. Isn't that what parties are there for?"

Tony still didn't agree. "No, they're for having fun and I sat here for ten minutes and was already bored – three hours can't be the most enjoyable of evenings!"

"Oh well, I have you to entertain me now. Although that might actually be worse-" A curt cough stopped Bruce from talking and for a horrible moment Tony thought it was Pepper, ready to yell at him for talking and take Bruce away from him. But it was Clint, standing there rather sheepishly and damn, had he heard everything? 'Nah, the guy's half-death... Creepy that he can sneak up on you like that though.'

"Yes, can I help you? If so, go find Pepper and we can reschedule for a meeting. How's that soun-" Clint just ignored him, looking at Bruce with a small smile on his face. Bruce couldn't help but smirk at the practically furious look on Tony's face once he realised he was being ignored.

"I was wondering if you wanted to dance with me, Dr. Banner." And that was how it had all started. Neither Tony nor Bruce could believe what they were hearing, nor could Tony believe Bruce's reply once he'd collected himself and Clint had ensured him that he was serious. God it was awkward just watching the pair.

"Sure... Why not?" With that, Bruce let Hawkeye lead him to the dance floor, trying his best to ignore the prickling of anxiety which occurred whenever he was in a crowd of people. It was a little harder to ignore the deadly glare Tony sent his way, however, so he glanced back with the most apologetic face he could muster. Must have been hard for Tony to sit there alone, after all, but Hawkeye knew better. The jealousy was plain and simple on the other's face. 'He was never yours to begin with, Stark.' Clint thought, not attempting to hide the smug look on his face as his arm wrapped itself around the shorter man's shoulders.

Once they got to the dance floor, Bruce's anxiety had suddenly risen to boiling point and he was certain if Clint's arm hadn't been there to focus on something, and keep his brain from curling in on itself, then he probably would have collapsed to the ground. Or fled the room. Why had he agreed to such a thing? Everyone else was staring and stank of nervousness, so Bruce felt even more like a time bomb than he usually did. Maybe people were wondering when he was going to snap and oh god Bruce should just leave before it got worse.

Then Clint took his hand to start a waltz, a smile directed towards the brunette. Bruce liked Clint's smile – it wasn't hiding any secret agendas (at least he didn't think it did) and the honesty was comforting. Bruce made a point to ignore the fact his freckles probably had a red background at that point.

"You ok, Freckles? We don't have to dance if you don't like." Perhaps Clint could tell Bruce's legs were quivering slightly. If not, the fact his eyes kept darting towards the exit gave it away and, frankly, Clint was a little crushed knowing that his dance partner had other ideas, but what did he expect? All of his previous attempts to get the brunette's attention never went further than a shy smile (which never even looked too genuine – it was just depressing to look at) and a few kind words for his trouble. Sometimes Bruce didn't even notice Clint was trying to speak to him.

"No... I mean, yes. I'm fine." Bruce stuttered, knowing full well that if he left now he'd just make it worse but god could everyone stop staring? It made him feel like a caged animal in a zoo with a hundred different eyes staring and pointing at him with nowhere to run. It was then the panic set in and Bruce tried to concentrate on his breathing. "B-But I don't really know how to dance, so I might screw up and everyone's-" He finished with a squeak when Clint's free arm snaked around his waist and pulled him close. Oh god Clint had another agenda, of course, and Bruce could hear his heart beating dangerously fast in his ear when they started swaying from side-to-side.

"That's alright. My dancing's bad enough that I bet you'd suffer from second-hand embarrassment. We can just sway." Clint said with a warm and patient smile in his voice. Maybe he was genuinely worried, but Clint could have sighed when he realised Bruce was still having a freak-out. So much for this being relaxing...

"...But everyone's staring..." He whispered, eliciting a laugh from Clint. It wasn't a cold or teasing laugh, in fact it was quite pleasant on the ears, but Bruce still stiffened when he heard it – a small frown on his face as though he were about to be told off. Well, the frown lasted until Clint spoke at least.

"They're just jealous that I got to dance with you. Just ignore them – I'm your dance partner, not them. Just focus on me."

And Bruce did just that. They didn't do much more than sway along to the music, as the brunette was trembling so much Clint thought he would fall over if they did much else. That was a good thing, though, as Bruce was so nervous he had to concentrate to make sure he didn't just Hulk out right there and then. Thankfully, Clint smelt like pancakes (which was oddly reassuring – Bruce didn't want to know why he smelt like pancakes though) so Bruce was able to close his eyes and focus on that.

Only Clint noticed the murderous aura of Tony Stark.

A/N: Hey! Thanks for reading this! This idea came to me after listening to Ashlee Simpson's song "I Didn't Steal Your Boyfriend" and I couldn't stop laughing until I wrote it. It was weird writing this as Bruce kept changing from his appearance in Earth's Mightiest Heroes to Mark Ruffalo and eventually ended as some kind of hybrid. lmfao.

I'm not sure whether this'll stay as just a little one-shot or if other scenes will be written as, well, I pair Bruce with both Clint and Tony, so it'll be difficult settling on just one and it might end up far longer than expected with unwanted drama... Anyway, hopefully it was cute enough for you and you enjoyed reading it~