"Good night Katniss?" Tony smirked at the bleary-eyed archer and the death grip he had on his steaming coffee mug.
"No. Working."
"Really? All night?"
"Got in about twenty minutes ago."
"I know, JARVIS told me."
"Then why ask?"
"Because you have a hickey the size of my palm repulsor on your neck." Tony's smug grin was starting to ache.
"Fuck."
"So, care to revise your story? Come on, you're an adult, no shame in having a little fun. No harm in relaying the sordid details to an interested third party."
"I was working Stark. Undercover at some swanky fundraiser in Switzerland."
"Undercover? Or under the sheets?"
"Who says the two are exclusive?"
Tony's smile dropped. "Fury makes you do that? Seriously? That's fucked up."
"Nah, SHIELD never really orders you to sleep with a mark but sometimes you have to go a few bases to get what you came for."
"Shit."
"Nat has it worse."
Tony was quiet for a moment. "So, the hickey?"
Barton sighed. "We needed confirmation on some classified intel we got through ropey channels. The mark had connections to the chief bad guy."
The grin was back. "And this mark- just how hot are we talking? And just how far down does that lovebite go, hmmm?"
"Dunno. I didn't even know it was there." Barton pulled at his collar and glanced down. "Shit. Yeah, no comment. And pretty hot, I guess. Bit young for me. Not really my type."
"Young and hot aren't your type?"
"Men aren't my type."
It was Barton's turn to smirk into his coffee as Tony choked on a mouthful of his own.
"What Tony? You thought SHIELD only deals with straight guys?"