A/N: SO… This is my first SLASH-fic for this fandom! The idea's been developing in my head for about two months. And now I just couldn't keep it contained anymore. (smirks sheepishly) Mind you, I ADORE TonyxPepper and ClintxLaura IMMENSELY! But sometimes one's head does funny tricks. (chuckles helplessly)

DISCLAIMER: PLEEEEEASE…! You'd be hearing me screaming from joy if I owned anything with Jeremy Renner hired to it. (sighs) I also haven't created the amazing picture above! Praises to the amazing person who made it!

WARNINGS: SLASH, unrequited feelings, mentions of violence and borderline non-con, weirdness… Uh, anyone out there…?

Awkay, because I'm REALLY nervous and afraid of chickening out… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

Five Simple Steps

Denial

"Are you sure that this isn't gonna blow up on my face, Tin Can?"

"You know, if you'd lay off those insults you might have way less reasons to worry that I may be plotting to kill you", Tony pointed out, not actually insulted. "Just try it. You know you want to."

Tony's eyes observed eagerly as Clint readied the arrow, a sharp gaze zeroed on the target board. Skilled, experienced arms and hands tensed up. Then released the string. The billionaire held his breath without noticing as they both watched the arrow completing its course.

It met the target board with a soft 'thud' that soon escalated to an explosion.

"Nice", Clint complimented, and subconsciously the billionaire allowed his eyes to linger on the archer's lips as they curled upwards. He paid unnecessary attention to the curve, there. He couldn't help wondering why the way his friend's eyes shone with pleasure and excitement made his heart skip a beat.

Tony had always been the kind of a guy who wanted the people around him to be happy but this… How much Clint's happiness meant to him… It was different, somehow. And a tiny, unhealthily curious part of him wondered why.

All of a sudden Clint's hand squeezed his shoulder. The contact sent a shiver through him. "Thanks, Tony. For coming up with these insane toys for us." The archer's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you… okay? You're looking a bit dazed. I hope you're not looking for excuses to avoid our sparring session."

Tony smirked, still not feeling quite like himself. "Never. Do your worst, Birdie."

They sparred for almost an hour. A kick after a kick, a punch after a punch. It left the kind of a heat into Tony he didn't remember experiencing before. The billionaire couldn't quite comprehend what caused it.

Tony forced himself to stop wondering something so ridiculous when he lay beside Pepper that night. He told himself that he was being stupid. It didn't keep away the dreams…

Anger

Tony's heart was pounding and his blood rushed madly. Which made hearing just how loud he was being difficult. "… the hell were you thinking?" he snarled, pacing around the room like a caged tiger. The space around him seemed to be shrinking constantly, and there wasn't enough air for his already aching lungs. Mental anxiety became physical, which only fueled his anger.

"I was thinking…" Clint shifted and wasn't quite able to cover up a wince. "… about getting the job done. Which we did, remember? I got him to talk. Mission accomplished."

"You let yourself get drugged and beaten!" Tony wasn't sure which one was worse, the actual memories or his mind filling up the blanks. (Clint's grunts and taunts as the archer pushed their target closer and closer to the breaking point, punches, groans, unwanted hands and lips forcing themselves on the Hawk…) "I was begging you to use the safe word and let us bring an end to it but you kept pushing and pushing! Do you have any idea…!"

"Tony." By some miracle Bruce's firm voice managed to make it through to Tony. Was there a flash of green in the man's eyes? "Clint has a concussion. This, can wait."

Tony almost relented. Until he looked towards Clint's horribly bruised face and the anger flared anew, squeezed around his chest with enough force to steal almost all his breath. "He could've…!"

Something like understanding dawned in Clint's eyes and it made the billionaire's ire grow still. How dare the archer understand when even he himself didn't! "I had the situation under control. And I had you and Tasha standing by."

Tony shook his head in disbelief. "How was the situation under control? Explain to me, because apparently I'm too stupid to understand! You were drugged!"

"So was he." Clint's face remained calm, perhaps, but something in the man's eyes… "The difference was that I knew to expect it and only had water, so I could taste it to be sure. He had champagne and didn't see it coming until he was out cold."

Tony snorted. "Yeah. What a great mental image. Finding you barely conscious and him on the same bed, his pants down." It'd keep haunting the inventor for the rest of his life and he wasn't sure if he'd ever forgive it. "Some 'mission accomplished'."

Clint shuddered like he'd been struck again, and all of a sudden Tony was even more furious at himself than he was before.

"Take a walk." Natasha's clipped, harsh voice came so suddenly that all three men present shivered. Her eyes held the kind of a knowing look that made Tony mad at her, too. "Right now. Get some air." It wasn't a suggestion.

Tony wasn't sure if he could've trusted himself to stay, anyway. "Gladly", he hissed, enraged and so out of control that it was terrifying. As he stormed off the voices of Natasha stating that she had enough audio and Clint finally murmuring the safe-word echoed in his head.

An hour later Pepper found him in the middle of the worst panic attack he'd had in years. She frowned, understandably worried and confused. "Tony? What's going on?"

Tony didn't answer, and it wasn't only because he couldn't get a word through his practically closed up throat. He had no idea why he reacted this way. All he knew was that this was the closest to losing Clint he'd come since they became teammates, and he hadn't felt this terrified and angry since his parents died.

Once the panic attack was over Tony turned down Pepper's offer to keep him company. Instead he took that walk Natasha suggested – and he never, ever took walks. It was two in the morning when he found himself from the Tower's medical wing. Just in time to meet a very irritated and exhausted looking doctor who announced that Clint was refusing pain medication.

"You've got altogether… what, seven broken bones. And you're pretty much one big bruise from head to toe." Tony still sounded angry, fresh air hadn't been enough to chase it away. "I get that you're a big bad spy…"

"If they give me any more drugs I'll fall asleep and have nightmares until noon tomorrow. Been there, done that." Clint's eyes met his, only briefly but still, and it was the most vulnerable he'd ever seen his friend. The archer then looked away as though ashamed. "So… No thanks."

Tony had no idea how to respond to such uncharacteristic openness. In the end he shrugged. "I'd have to poke you awake every few hours, anyway." Besides, he didn't feel quite ready to go to bed with adrenaline storming through his veins and a much too familiar thirst burning in his mind. He pursed his lips, thinking. "Movies? TV?"

"Too loud."

"I'm loud", Tony pointed out.

Was that… a thin flicker of amusement? "You don't have flashing lights on you." The archer shifted will a barely traceable grunt that did ridiculous things to Tony's barely soothed temper. (If the bastard who did this to Clint hadn't been hauled away somewhere for custody…) "Chess?"

Clint's voice barely managed to snatch Tony back to the present. "It's got a few pieces missing." He went on at his friend's questioning look. "Big Green doesn't like chess."

"Duly noted", Clint murmured. For a few moments a hazy look appeared to the man's face and the Hawk's breathing pattern changed before the man forced it back to normal with visible effort. A flashback, probably. They seriously needed something to occupy their minds with.

"Battleship!" Tony announced after a couple of seconds. He shrugged at the archer's far from impressed expression. "What? It doesn't have any sound effects or flashing lights. Perfect."

They played in a very comfortable near-silence for a while. Until Clint sighed. "Look… I'm sorry, that you had to listen to it. That I had to let it get so far." The man searched his face. "Nat's used to… these things. But… You guys are my friends, too, and… sometimes I forget that you're not used to that."

"And I never will be", Tony announced firmly, meaning it. It was one of the very few things he was sure about in all of this. For some reason the word 'friend' rolling from Clint's tongue hurt. "The next time you pull off a stunt like this I'll make you wear a full body armor at all times." He hesitated. "I'm… sorry, too…"

"Don't worry." Clint smiled, and that one did funny things to Tony, too. "I'm used to your mouth functioning separately from your brain. Now focus on the game or I'll sink all your ships in five minutes."

They played the stupid game until ten in the morning, when Clint's injuries and emotional exhaustion finally got the better of the man. Tony watched his friend sleeping, unable to look away even though seeing the bruises hurt. This time the breathlessness he experienced was a different kind. In his sleep Clint frowned and murmured something, and Tony moved a strayed strand of hair from the man's forehead before actively realizing what he was doing.

And wondered what was happening to him.

Bargaining

Tony couldn't shake off those weird sensations since then. Whenever Clint was nearby something was fluttering inside him. Thankfully the archer seemed oblivious. They bantered, and everything felt right in the world. They became closer friends, almost as close as Clint and Natasha. It was enough to keep Tony content. Right?

His subconscious seemed to disagree. Whenever Tony fell asleep he dreamt of Clint. Pepper started spending less nights with him after he woke up beside her to hear his voice muttering his friend's name. The only way to avoid those disturbing, confusing dreams was drinking until he passed out, because then he didn't dream about anything at all. So Tony took that opportunity and held on, nearly desperately. Determined to let go of… whatever the hell this funk was, before it'd consume him in whole.

Tony should've known that his masterplan wouldn't work indefinitely.

One night, when he stumbled home from the far too moist end of a business meeting, the very thing he'd been trying to drink away was occupying the couch of the Tower's common space. Clint didn't look his way but the way the man's jawline tightened revealed that he'd been spotted. "And he appears. I can smell you from there."

Tony scoffed, more embarrassed than annoyed. "You sound like Pepper." He frowned, struggling to comprehend. "Wha'r you doing 're, anyway? I thought you'd go 'way for Christmas." Which, he was forced to admit, had made the idea of alcohol all the more appealing.

"I thought I would, too. But then Pepper called that you're in one of your moods again." Clint looked at him with frown. "Tony… What are you doing? She loves you. You can't…"

"I know, okay!" Tony exclaimed. Feeling soberer than he wanted to. "Why do you think I drink? Because I… I hate this!" He hated that he couldn't be the boyfriend Pepper deserved. He hated being consumed by something he didn't even understand. He hated…

Clint didn't ask what he meant, as though somehow guessing. The Hawk's eyes widened a fraction. "Tony…!" Was that a warning or an invitation?

Tony ignored all reason. Forgot that it probably wasn't a good idea to approach someone with Clint's combat-skills like this without consent. In those moments the need, the downright burn, was so intense that he couldn't…

Tony sat right next to his friend, then leaned forward. His lips brushed against Clint's. They were a little rougher than Pepper's but warm. Tasted of coffee. Made Tony's own lips tingle.

It was everything Tony had been dreaming of, literally, until it wasn't.

Clint pushed him away gently but firmly. "Tony, don't." No dilated pupils or heavy breathing. Only sadness, something close to an apology. "I… I don't know what gave you the idea, but… Don't."

Something inside Tony plummeted. This… hurt. Like nothing ever had before. He tried to give one of his trademark grins, even though his eyes blurred and there was moisture on his cheeks. "Sorry, sorry… I'm just… I'm drunk, and stupid. That's all. No big deal, okay?" Please, please, please…! Just that one little bit of dignity, just a little more time to overcome whatever it was that caused… this.

Because he would overcome this, Tony decided with drunken stubbornness, and then he wouldn't want to kiss Clint again.

Clint looked at him for a few seconds. Then nodded. "No big deal", the archer confirmed, and Tony was too drunk to know whether the other was sincere. There was a deep breath. "Now sleep. If you're lucky you won't remember any of this in the morning."

"You will", Tony pointed out miserably. Sobering up was always nasty, especially when it hurt this much. Or was it something else hurting him?

Tony was already fast on his way to passing out. But just before lights went out for him he could've sworn that he heard Clint murmuring. "I've already been pretending that I don't know for a while."

Not much after Tony passed out Pepper entered the room to find Clint rubbing the bridge of his nose. "A headache?" She sounded almost sympathetic, which was a surprise. Then again, this wasn't the archer's fault. "He's good at causing those."

"Yeah." Clint got up quite hastily, seeming deep in thought. "I've gotta go and get some sleep. You'll look after him, right?"

Pepper watched the Hawk's distancing back until she lost control over her tongue. "I can help him with the hangover. But… I can't give him what he needs." No matter how much they loved each other, no matter how hard they tried…

Clint froze and shuddered. When their eyes met the man's expression was haunted, almost trapped. "I'll never be able to give him what he needs, either."

"I know." That was the most bitter part of all this, what none of the three of them could do a thing about. "And you have to be there for him when he figures it out, too."

From the street below the familiar melody of 'Last Christmas' echoed to their ears like a mockery.

Depression

By the time New Year came Pepper had announced that they needed a break and headed to Tokyo to ensure that a new branch of the company would get to a start smoothly. It wasn't running away. It was giving them both some much needed space.

Tony felt like he was freefalling. He'd never been the best at handling his emotions and this… This was far too much.

Once again Clint was away. Tony didn't have to wonder why, because despite his best attempts he remembered the… could it even be called a kiss? The morning after they both pretended that everything was okay. Two days later the archer left. According to Nastasha it was a sudden and urgent mission. Tony was no spy so he had no idea if she was lying.

Tony also had no idea if he could ever have something more than friendship with Clint, if he even wanted to try, but at very least he wanted his friend back.

As the year changed Tony stared how rockets of various colors lit up the sky. While the rest of the party around him exploded he slipped out of the room and headed to a balcony. Trying to ignore a noisily kissing couple that seemed blind and deaf to the rest of the world the inventor downed a glass of champagne. Then took his phone.

What the hell was he doing…?

"Tony?"

Tony grinned. "Happy New Year!" he cheered. Trying to sound far happier than he felt. Usually pretending didn't hurt quite this much.

Clint sighed heavily. "Look… I'm sorry, that I had to leave like that. Because I can hear that you're not okay."

Tony blinked once. Twice. Trust Clint to hear something all these people around him didn't see… "I'll be okay", he swore. As much to himself as his friend. Because he would be, he'd have to be. He ran his free hand through his friend. "Just… Feeling sorry for myself, is all. Being stupid. Thinking too much."

"You and thinking never have been a good combination."

Tony smiled, just a little. And to his surprise it felt genuine. "You're telling me?" He leaned against the balcony's railing to look at the celebrating world down below. "If wish you were here. The party isn't the same without you."

"You'll be okay. Just don't let Nat talk you into drinking Vodka." Clint sounded utterly exhausted and ten years older than when they last met. "Happy New Year, Tony. It'll be better than the last, I promise." There was a strange, painfully loud noise and the call was over before the inventor could ask if Clint was alright.

Tony kept staring at the world below for a little while longer. He wasn't sure if he believed Clint, but he wanted to. Despite all the champagne he'd consumed the taste of the archer's lips lingered when he turned and headed inside, the fake smile he'd relied on since childhood securely in place.

Acceptance

Two days later Clint came back with three gunshot wounds and about as close to death as anyone could get without actually falling off the edge. One of the bullets… Tony didn't want to think how close it came to piercing Clint's heart.

For almost a full week Tony sat beside the Hawk. And if there'd been any doubt about what he wanted, how he felt… It all faded away as he stared at the man's unconscious face and prayed, for the first time since his parents died.

Until…

"'gonna yell at me again, aren't you…?"

Tony jumped, blinking away the exhaustion of several sleepless nights. There was no need to fake the impossibly wide grin that appeared when he found the archer's eyes hazy but halfway open. "Hell yeah", he swore. "When you don't look so miserable." He wasn't drunk but felt that way as he licked his lips, subconsciously leaning closer. "But, for now…"

Clint gasped, and it could've been the perfect romantic movie cliché. But since when had anything in Tony's life been that simple? Clint's eyes fluttered closed. Then the Hawk's face contorted and the machinery went crazy.

And Tony wondered, with a horrible weight sitting on his chest, if he'd lose Clint just days after he'd finally become ready to embrace what his heart had wanted almost since they first had junk food together.

After one of the longest thirty minutes' of Tony's life he found out that the pain had simply gotten the best of Clint. They adjusted the Hawk's medication. Which meant that the man was out cold once more. Sleeping this time, recovering.

Two more hours passed by before Tony returned to the room where Clint rested. He slid to his usual chair slowly, feeling dizzy and exhausted but no longer afraid. He opened his mouth thrice before the words came. "I… I don't know what the chances are, that you'd ever…" He swallowed, feeling like a lovesick teenager. "But… Thanks, for coming back. For… For giving me the chance to find out."

"One in a million." Natasha's voice startled him. Her eyes were darker than usual while she looked at him from the room's doorway. "You were wondering what the chances are, that he might feel the same for you. One in a million." She sighed, seeming to see far more than he would've liked. "I'm sorry." And she was, he could tell.

Tony frowned. Feeling more than a little hurt. "What are you talking about?"

"Look out for him. Be his friend. Someone who gets into a trouble as often as he does needs those. But… Don't pursue more than that, Tony. Because as big as that idiot's heart is, it's not yours to have."

As it turned out Tony didn't have the time to pursue more. Clint was very feeble and pained for a while, which definitely wasn't ideal for the… chat Tony had in mind. And then they were both incredibly busy. The lives of two Avengers tended to get hectic, especially when one of them owned a massive international company and the other was an enigma who kept disappearing all the time.

Then they clashed with HYDRA in a forest, and all of a sudden a chunk of Clint's side was missing. Tony imagined that to be horrible enough, especially when coupled with the whole mess which followed. But true pain came when he walked through the door of a secluded Farm and was introduced to a woman who made Clint's eyes shine in a way he'd never seen before.

Whatever little there was still intact of Tony's heart was shattered by a single word. Uttered by the innocent, excited voice of a child. "Daddy!"

Right there Tony finally understood Natasha's warning - and realized that it came far too late.

/ "Are you sure that this isn't gonna blow up on my face?" /

End

A/N: Poor Tony, eh? (winces) Go on, watch 'AoU' AND 'CW' with THIS in mind! (grins) (then winces again)

Soooo… Any thoughts? Comments? It's been A LONG time since I last felt this uncertain about posting something so it'd mean THE WORLD to me to hear from you. Would cookies or cupcakes help usher you towards the box down below…?

Awkay, because I NEED TO get at least a couple of hours of sleep… THANK YOU, so much, for reading! And maybe I'll see you again one day.

Take care!