That Tony had a little black book was probably not much of a surprise to anyone. Though it had ceased to exist in a tangible form soon after his twentieth birthday – it had been more of a folder by then anyway, names and numbers on slips of paper, napkins, receipts, anything they'd found to hand, often accompanied by a perfectly formed lipstick stain – it was still alive and well in digital form, JARVIS holding the illustrious title of bookkeeper. The AI dutifully recorded anything Tony was given, accompanied by a photo and brief description, making finding a last minute date even easier than normal. He'd even set up an innovative warning system, keeping him away from those with the most potential to be damaging to his image in case he trawled the database while drunk. Which, he admitted, was most of the time.
How Clint had found out about it was beyond him. Maybe he'd let something slip while he'd only been half lucid on lack of sleep and caffeine, he couldn't really be blamed for what he said when he eventually crawled out of his workshop, but the archer had been hell-bent on uncovering it for weeks. In the beginning, it had been amusing to watch him try to bribe Jarvis or swipe Tony's tablet when he thought the man wasn't looking, but he'd quickly become distracted by a new project. Tony assumed Clint would eventually give up on it, especially after his attempts to involve the other Avengers had failed. Bruce had been totally uninterested, Natasha had just raised an eyebrow without taking her eyes from her book, Steve had frowned and gone back to cooking his breakfast and Thor had returned to Asgard before the whole thing started. He didn't need to worry about any team effort.
Which only left him all the more stunned when JARVIS informed him that one Mr Clint Barton had managed to get his greedy little paws into Tony's Book. Oh, not for long, Jarvis had been quick to lock him out again, but it was almost beyond belief that Clint had managed to hack into one of his systems. Even if he hadn't put up much security, believing his teammates to be trustworthy and honest. Or at least unable to work their way around a computer well enough to bypass what he did have up. He suspected outside assistance. Because jesus, this was Barton.
He ran a hand through his hair irritably, cranky already from not enough sleep and a design that just wouldn't work the way he wanted it to, even after the thirty hours he'd already plugged into it. There was oil smeared across his bare arms, probably his face too, and his shirt was sporting a rip to his navel courtesy of Dummy. Peachy.
"JARVIS, where is Barton now?"
"I believe he is heading towards the kitchen, sir. Ms Romanoff and Captain Rogers are currently preparing breakfast."
Breakfast. Right. A glance at one of the screens informed him that it was just past eight am, normal people meal time. Not that normal meant anything to any of them. Steve would already have been out for a jog, Tony had never caught him in bed later than five, and he still had his suspicions that Natasha never slept. Barton must have been up all night to pull off his little stunt.
Plucking at the ruined wife-beater, Tony debated taking a detour to his room first. The new edges of the shirt gaped open, revealing the arc reactor and the puckered scars surrounding it, and he rubbed a fist over it self-consciously. Ugly. Still, if he took the time to pander to his vanity, Clint would have even more time to brag to the others.
He sighed, mouth set in a hard line, and took the steps two at a time. JARVIS helpfully had the lift waiting, though it didn't stop him pressing the buttons repeatedly in an attempt to get the damn thing to hurry up. Teleportation, yeah, why hadn't he spent more time investigating the possibilities of teleportation?
His arrival in the kitchen cut Clint off mid-sentence. The archer paused to flash him a smug grin before dancing back around the counter island, keeping himself out of Tony's reach. Natasha was smirking at him too, if just barely, and Steve was failing to hide his amusement as he tried to look disapproving of Clint. Great, just great.
"That desperate to get fucked, Barton?" It was more a snarl than words, Tony's face carefully neutral, and his hands clenched the top of the counter hard enough to turn the knuckles white. "I'm going to fucking end you."
Clint only looked more amused, if anything, though Steve was clearly uncomfortable with him swearing. Yeah, fuck, whatever, someone had broken into his property and snooped around. He could use whatever language he damn well pleased.
"Didn't peg you as such a stalker, Stark. There must have been hundreds of women in there, all with a lot more entered than just a phone number. Didn't realise you needed body measurements or a background check to ask a girl on a date." Barton moved further from Tony, positioning Natasha between them as well. Slightly nervous then, though his bright eyes suggested he hadn't finished yet. "Or a guy, doesn't look like you're that picky."
He'd spent a lot of time trying to be discreet about that. SHIELD, and the world, had no right to know anything about his personal life, and it had been nice to have a little part of himself that wasn't subjected to the usual media circus. "Didn't peg you as a homophobe either, Barton. Pepper told me to keep it quiet, that the company would suffer if it got out that I liked men as well. It's no-one's business who I fuck in my spare time. Or are you jealous I never asked you?"
And then Tony's heart almost stopped as he watched Clint's gaze slide from him to the supersoldier frying sausages. He darted across the room desperately, attempting to stop the idiot before he ruined anything else, but Clint was faster than him and bolted out of reach. Shit.
Tony took a few nervous steps back, eyes fluttering closed for a few moments as he tried to remember how to breathe. He was an idiot, such a huge fucking idiot, and he should have known his ego would get him in trouble again. It had just been a joke, fuck, a fantasy that he knew would never happen, as nice as it had been to pretend. He took a few more steps back until his hand grasped onto the doorframe for support. He should leave now, before it got any worse, but he just couldn't tear his eyes from the train wreck about to happen in front of him.
Clint smiled innocently and tilted his head to one side. "Hey, Steve, why does Stark have your picture with all the rest? You guys have some secret fling you never told us about? I'm hurt. I thought we were a team." He splayed his fingers across his chest to demonstrate the imaginary pain, but Tony wasn't hanging around to watch any further dramatics. Steve's head had whipped up and his eyes caught Tony's for a moment, but the billionaire was already turning on his heel.
"Think I left the oven on, gotta go." He was screwed if Steve caught up with him, and not in the way he'd fantasised about. "JARVIS, lock down the stairs to the workshop, and make sure no-one follows me in the lift. I need to be alone for a while."
At least mostly alone. There were a couple of bottles of Jack down there to keep him company.
A/N: So, this is my first attempt at writing anything in the Avengers universe. Apologies for any mistakes, I've only seen the films once and have never read the comics, and it's the first time playing with these characters.
Going to try and do a few drabble things to get a feel for this fandom, if anyone's interested in reading them. I'll also take requests if anyone has anything they'd like to see.