Chapter Six: Dressed for Success
Gravel crunched under the soles of leather shoes as the two heroes traversed an empty train yard. Their only light was the moon, which did little to make the abandoned yard seem hospitable. They could barely see the cars scattered around them, many covered in graffiti and most showing signs of rust. Every once in a while a train would pass by, drowning out their footsteps with clanking and whistles. The eeriness of the atmosphere was enough to stand their hairs on end.
Clint crouched behind the cars, getting as low to the ground as possible. He examined the area around his car, checking for anything lurking in the dark, before darting to the next car. He repeated this process, making his way deeper into the yard.
Tony followed the agent, but he didn't even attempt to be covert. He walked through the yard with his usual style of contempt and boredom, ignoring the hiding places Clint tried to usher him into. If his phone hadn't been smashed into a million pieces he probably would have been on it, surfing the web, playing games, or designing some new facet of his suit. Alas he was forced to content himself with making a game out of dodging puddles. The puddles were winning, much to the dismay of his socks.
"Tell me again what we're doing in this creepy-ass place," Tony barked as he dumped water from his shoe for the third time.
The archer stopped squirreling around the yard long enough to glance at his partner. He did not look pleased about the lack of effort he was putting into sneaking around.
"Get down!" he whispered harshly through clenched teeth.
Tony rolled his eyes and partially crouched next to Clint. His suit might already be ruined by his own blood, but he'd be damned before he got muddy knees.
"I thought we were going to a party."
"We are," Clint answered "but not before I stop and get some supplies."
"In a train yard…"
Clint looked to his friend, clearly loathing the fact he had to explain spy things to Tony. He was far too familiar to partners who knew what he knew, and asked few questions.
"Well it's not like there's a Wal-Mart anywhere near by."
"Hardy-har-har."
The archer directed his focus forward once more, moving to the next train car as he explained further.
"If we're lucky, there's a hidden supply cash inside one of these cars. We can stock up before we sneak around Vontas' party."
"Huh," Tony exhaled as he followed Clint. He decided not to roll across the ground. "It's not like SHIELD to just leave stuff lying around."
"SHIELD doesn't –aha! Looks like we were lucky."
"It would be the first time in days," Tony mumbled as he watched the archer scurry towards a train car. At first glance it didn't look like anything special to the philanthropist, just another rusty car that probably hadn't been moved for some time. He was proved wrong when Clint lifted a metal flap on the side. Beneath the panel was a touch screen interface covered in several numbers and a scanning panel. Clint punched in a code, scanned his fingerprint, and then leaned down for a retinal scan.
There was a chirpy ding and then the container's door slid open to reveal a newer metallic door. It too opened after a second, granting them access to the inside. Clint jumped in first, extending a hand to Tony once he was sure of his footing. Once they took a few steps inward the doors closed, leaving them in complete darkness. Lights immediately kicked on, flooding the room and practically blinding the unprepared engineer.
After some intense blinking Tony's eyes adjusted and he could see what was around him. Each wall of the vessel was made of the same metal as the second door. On either side of him were large doors, leading to what Tony assumed were storage rooms. Bins and cupboards made a ring around the ceiling and floor, like trim on a wall. Directly in front of them were two large screens, one handing on the wall and the other propped upon four legs. Clint approached the lower screen, tapping his fingers across the surface until a large keyboard appeared. The hanging screen flickered to life, displaying Clint's work as he sifted through navigation box after navigation box. Tony tried to follow the process, but it was unlike any SHIELD interface he had ever seen and he wasn't even going to compare it to his personal systems.
After a minute Clint's fingers stopped moving and he looked to the screen. A computerized female voice emitted from the speakers attached to the side.
"Voice command requested."
"Agent William Brandt, activate Protocol Uranus. Number of agents, two."
The archer's command was quickly accepted. Clicks reverberated around the rooms as locks on containers released. Select drawers slid open, containing what Clint had come here for.
"Do you require any masks?"
Clint smiled at the computer's question before tapping a few more buttons and shutting it off. When he turned back to his companion he was met with Tony's best skeptical look to date.
"Who is William Brandt?"
"An analyst." Clint responded simply.
"With access to-" Tony paused as a side panel on the wall slid upwards to reveal a rotating selection of weapons. "Lots and lots of guns. Not a single arrow though."
Tony took a step back to glance at the spinning rack of doom, casually rotating it with his right hand.
"William doesn't use arrows." Clint said with evident distaste.
He walked over to the panels, closing it before Tony could touch anything. With his luck he'd find the one gun that didn't have its safety on. Clint moved to another storage bin, taking out two ear pieces. He handed one to Stark as he placed the second in his own ear.
"These aren't standard issue SHIELD tech." Tony stated as he examined the small electronic device. "It would be way too easy to piggyback these guy's frequencies and frick stuff up."
"Funny you should mention that."
"Who made these?"
Clint strode to the other end of the room, opening a door into another lighted room filled with clothing racks.
"There's plenty of clothes in there."
The SHIELD agent clearly did not wish to expand on the subject.
"We're similarly sized, so they should fit. Remember we have somewhere to go, so dress for success."
He turned back to the numerous drawers in the room, searching for anything and everything they might need.
"Dress for success? What are you Barton, some lame motivational pamphlet?"
Clint donned another smirk.
"Suit up Stark."
A gleaming building stood in front of the two men. Its glass surface glittered with lights, both within and out, announcing the party to all who could see. A constant stream of cars ran by the front door, emptying their passengers onto the sidewalk full of party goers. Some cars drove away, chauffeurs going to wait for their passengers elsewhere, while others were handed over to valets to be parked out back.
"Mine's bigger." Tony proclaimed, diverting his attention away from the building.
There were walking up the carpeted walkway, having slipped in with a group that had just exited a limo.
"You trying to compensate for something?" Clint asked, humor lacing his tone.
"Shut up."
"I mean giant tower, expensive clothes, fast cars, Iron Man suit; all signs of discontent."
"I said shut up." The genius repeated, elbowing his partner in the side none too gently. His only response was a deep chuckle from the blond.
"Look sharp." Clint finally muttered as they reached the doors.
Four men stood, two on either side, checking the arrivals against some list. Many were obviously frequent guests, these people the guards knew by face, but others they halted. A guest had yet to be turned away though. Eventually their names and faces were found on the list and the gleaming doors were opened. They would be the first, if Clint's plan failed.
He was sure it wasn't. Clint had expected the check at the door, after all an arms dealer didn't let just anyone walk into his house. He was prepared, plan in mind, well not really a plan per say. But he completely trusted his ability to blend in and Tony's reputation as a party crasher.
When they reached the door they stopped and waited while the security personnel checked the list. As predicted, they were pulled aside when their names were found lacking from the sheet. The taller of the two men double checked the list, while the other glared at the two Avengers.
"Don't I know you from somewhere?" he grunted at Tony.
"You probably do." The billionaire beamed. After all these years, he still loved it when people recognized him.
"Well they're not listed with the guests."
The man with the clipboard nodded to his companion, who stepped forward to usher Clint and Tony away. Before he took another step, Tony held out his hand to stop the man. He reached inside jacket and retrieved a generous amount of cash which he handed to the bouncer. The man got the hint, and stepped back to his previous position. Clint and Tony moved towards the door, but were stopped again by the second man. The list guy placed his hand on Tony's shoulder and spun him back around to face him.
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
Tony looked taken aback – no doubt more shocked that someone dared to touch him, rather than with the obvious demand for money – before a bright smile spread across his face.
"How did that slip my notice," he stated, reaching back into his jacket. "I didn't know you were a fan big guy."
Stark's hand emerged from his pocket, this time holding a simple sheet of paper rather than several green slips. He flipped it over, revealing that is was in fact a sheet of Iron Man stickers. He peeled off an image of himself, faceplate raised, shooting some unseen target in the distance with his gauntlet repulsor, and stuck it to the man's cheek.
"There you go."
Patting the cheek once, Tony sauntered off. Clint stood next to the confused guard, blatantly laughing at the man's opened mouthed expression. After a moment the archer moved on. He lengthened his strides, catching up to the genius within a few steps, smile still present on his lips.
"You're kind of a huge asshole Stark, you know that?"
"I pride myself in being that one ass that everyone loves, or you know, utterly hates." Stark responded, glee evident in his voice. "You have to admit that sticker gag was golden."
"More childish than anything, really."
"It got us in didn't it?"
Tony looked to Clint, eyebrows raised, waiting for recognition of his success.
"Yeah," Clint begrudgingly admitted. "Yeah I guess it did."
The billionaire raised his right hand, fingers fisted, knuckles facing the archer. Clint stared at it a moment before sighing and accepting the bro-fist invitation.
"Why do you even have those stickers?"
"I always have them on hand, just in case."
"Emergency stickers, because that's a top priority." Clint muttered under his breath. "Now let's get to work."
By now their conversation had carried them into the lobby. There was a small bustle of people formed around three elevator doors. The sliding metal surfaces would open every few minutes and red-hatted elevator men ushered in throngs of guests. The two men stepped in line, starting small talk with those around them to better acclimate.
Their turn to ride the elevators came shortly. They could clearly see the environment inside the small room now that they were so close. All four sides of the square room were made of metal, polished so thoroughly they could see their own contorted reflections in the surface.
"Gold platted walls," Tony mused. He examined the walls closer as he shuffled in. "No… bronze. Kickin' it Eagle's Nest style I see. Very ominous, not to mention pretentious."
"I thought you were the tech guy, not the history buff."
Clint twisted his neck to get a better view of the man standing next to him.
"I am a genius; I have more than enough room in here," Tony tapped his temple "for anything I want to fill it with."
"Yeah, but why bother remembering what Hitler's elevator was made of? Why not something useful like, I don't know, your complete social security number?"
Tony rolled his eyes.
"Every once in a while when he wasn't too busy to remember that he actually had a kid, my father would tell me stories. The Second World War always fascinated me, so I researched anything and everything I could in my spare time. Technology, troop movements, propaganda, and especially Capt-"
Tony abruptly stopped talking and became immensely interested in the walls again. Clint began to snicker, but left the admission alone. The billionaire had enough undisclosed insecurities without someone making fun of his past - and most likely still ongoing - secret admiration for the super soldier.
"Not a fucking word to Steve, not a word."
The engineer's frown was tight lipped. He didn't look like he would be willingly saying anything for a while. Eventually the red-hatted man deemed the elevator was full and pressed the button was for the third floor. Vibrations ran through the room followed by a quick jolt as it began to move upward.
"My elevator is so smooth you can't even tell it's moving," Tony whispered. Apparently pointing out how he had better thing was a good enough reason to break his vow of silence.
"Do you do this every time you go to another rich person's house?"
"Pretty much."
"I'm beginning to see why Pepper travels separately." Clint exhaled.
With a slight jolt the elevator came to a stop, effectively ending their conversation. The golden doors slid open to reveal a sparkling room of creams and gold. Soft white walls surrounded the guests weaving in between round mahogany tables draped in silky cloth. Sharply dressed men flitted around the ballroom, courting brightly dressed women and fetching drinks from the bar on the opposite side of the room. Clint's eyes traveled upwards along the Grecian columns running along the edges of the room. They supported the balconies constituting for the second floor of the open ceilinged room. Perfect he thought to himself.
A roaming waiter passed by carrying a tray of champagne glasses. Clint removed a glass from the tray, nodding his thanks to the aproned man while he grasped Tony's forearm with his empty hand. He pulled the billionaire to the side of the room away from the general crowd.
"We should split up," Clint declared.
The archer took a sip from his glass and immediately decided he wasn't very fond of the bubbly liquid. He tried to offer the glass to Tony, but the brunette only raised his hands in protest.
"I have this thing about people handing me things."
"Oh not this shit again. It's free booze Stark, take it."
Clint thrust the glass into the engineer's raised hands, forcing them to grip the crystal stem.
"As I was saying," Clint continued, "We should split up. You search the ground level. Try not to attract too much attention and don't you even think about getting drunk."
Tony was about to roll his eyes until he noticed the glass in his hand was already empty. He handed it to a waiter collecting empty champagne flutes and declined the offer of another drink.
"I suppose you'll be climbing upwards?" he asked, not even acknowledging the reprimanding looks being sent his way.
"Someone's got to keep track of this circus."
Clint offered his teammate a head nod and stepped out into the crowd. Tony blinked and then he was gone, blending in flawlessly with the crowd. It was times like these that reminded the billionaire just how freakily good Clint was at his job. He too eventually stepped out into the crowd, moving between the various groups that had formed around the room. He tried his best to remember everything he could from what James Bond movies he had seen as he mingled with the public. He silently compiled a list of spy things in his head, skipping over ordering a martini and flirting with women and instead opting for turning on his comm link. He and Barton would need a means of communication now that they were separated.
"Red Ranger to Hawkboy, do you copy?"
There was momentary radio silence before Tony received a reply.
"You sir, are no Red Ranger."
Tony picked up another glass from a tray. He brought the rim to his mouth, feigning drinking to hide his talking and avoid suspicion.
"And why not?"
"Saying you are the Red Ranger would imply that you are the leader of this operation and generally useful, both of which you are not. If anything I should be Red Ranger."
The billionaire scoffed at the unseen archer.
"Well then what the hell am I?"
"One of the god awful villains the Rangers fight that spend hours talking about themselves and their crappy plans."
"I strongly disagree-
Tony stopped talking when two women approached him. They were young, pretty, and fishing for compliments. Luckily they both spoke French (one of the foreign languages he did know) so he could appease them quickly. After a minute or two they moved on, allowing Tony to resume his conversation with Clint.
"Speaking of crappy plans, I don't even know what this Vontas guy looks like."
"Decently tall, around six feet tall give or take a few inches. Athletic build, narrow hips, slanted shoulders, beady little eyes, shoulder length blond hair, and a nasty scar on his right cheek."
An involuntary shiver ran down the genius' spine as Clint finished his description. The marksman's tone had changed ever so slightly at the mention of the scar. It had lost all humor and donned a dark pride. Tony just knew he was making the scary face again, the one with the lecherous half grin and the glint in his eye that just screamed "I'm going to take immense pleasure in shooting you." It was the face reserved for those special few on Barton's deep shit list.
"What the hell did you do to that man?"
"It wasn't even that bad Tony, the arrow barely grazed his cheek. Nat's the one who really did a number on him."
Clint said this in far too relaxed a tone for Tony to be comfortable.
"I guarantee he won't ever think about delving into human trafficking again and just stick to arms and espionage."
"Because that's really a commendable career," Tony quipped.
"SHIELD runs his business more than he does."
Unable to find anyone more attractive (or so he liked to think) the two women had circled back to his position. Tony didn't really feel like talking to them, so he ducked behind a group of pillars as Clint continued to explain.
"He only gets the secrets we let him have, and tracking his arms deals means we know who is buying."
"Yeah, but the first bad still makes money off of it."
"It wasn't that long ago I was saying the same about you."
Stark paused.
"… Fuck you Barton."
"I'm in position."
Tony stopped once more before responding.
"Was that another innuendo or-"
"No ass," Clint barked. "I'm actually in position on the balcony. Unlike some of us, I've been ignoring scantily clad women and actually doing my job."
Tony chuckled to himself.
"Serious face time."
It was time to find the rickety elevator owning European, or rather wait until Clint found him. The genius was one hundred and thirty-seven point eighty-three percent sure the archer would find Vontas first, regardless of how hard he worked. After all Clint wasn't just an archer, he was a sniper despite his Paleolithic weapon of choice. Finding targets was his thing, almost second nature after so many years of practice. Tony didn't have to wait long to be proven right. Five minutes barely passed before Clint was calling out positions.
"Vontas is by the bar. Two, no three guards hovering, most likely armed."
"Well that's great what do we do now?"
Tony moved from his spot and moved towards the bar. He found a place to observe the area and quickly found the man matching the description Clint had given. The watered-down-evil blond was leaning against his bar chatting with the guests around him. Tony snatched a recently vacated bar stool at the end of the bar and ordered a scotch.
"Well normally I would ask Nat to strut around and lay on the accent, but you know that's not going happen."
"One would think a trained field agent would have more than one play…"
Tony drifted off as he watched Vontas turn away from his conversation. He followed the arms dealer's line of sight and found himself staring at the rear of a man not too far from the bar. The man moved away and Vontas' gaze returned to his conversation partner.
"We might not need Natasha."
Tony continued to watch the dealer, watching as a new group of guests approached Vontas. The blond steadfastly ignored the stunning woman trying to catch his attention, but smiled brightly and placed a tender hand on the man who accompanied her.
"You seeing what I'm seeing Hawk?"
"Yep," Clint replied simply. "Get to seducing ground force."
Tony laughed again. He stood and left the bar, mildly self-conscious of talking he was doing. He hoped people would assume he had a Bluetooth if they saw him chatting away to himself.
"Nuh uh Birdy, this one's all you."
"You're closest!"
"There is not a single person in the arms business who doesn't know my face," Tony chided. "My cover would be blown the moment he recognized me without all the metal and camera flashes."
He watched another man, this one clearly trying to pull off the 40's look Steve had inadvertently brought back into style, walk by and gain Vontas' approval.
"Besides, he seems to prefer blonds."
Clint was alone in the restroom attached to the ballroom, looking himself over in the mirror. A few cuts from his interrogation were showing through the faded salon work, but other than nothing about his face was horribly conspicuous. He brushed his suit coat off and smiled to himself as he adjusted his bowtie. The smile quickly vanished as he realized how obsessed with the accessory he had recently become. Internally he cursed Bruce for creating his own BBC marathons in the tower common room.
A few seconds more of pruning and then he left the bathroom, notifying Tony over the comm before he re-entered the ballroom. The billionaire was easy enough to spot, now standing in his previous position on the balcony above. Vontas was even easier to find. The bar was only a few feet from the restrooms (most likely on purpose) and his target was still in plain sight. He waited patiently for the crowd around the man to disperse, making his move only when Vontas was alone.
He avoided the direct route to the dealer. Clint wove in and out of the crowd, striking up casual conversations with several guests before settling with the group to the right of his target. He made up some ridiculous story about a sailboat he didn't even own which completely enticed the couple. The archer didn't fail to notice the looks he received from Vontas either. Clint adjusted his temperament, making sure he was all smiles and charm, beaming at even the smallest of jokes. Another couple sitting at a table near the center of the room beckoned to Clint's newfound friends and he urged them to go. Once he was alone he turned to lean on the bar, angling his waist until he could feel his pants tighten around his butt cheeks. Tony whistled on the other end of the comm.
"Damn, what is it with assassins and nice asses. How hard do you and Spider Chick work your glutes?"
Clint couldn't help but grin at the strange compliment.
"Brandy two fingers neat, please."
"Please, make that two Enrique," a voice sounded from Clint's left.
From the corner of his eye the archer could make out the grinning face of Alexi, now leaning against the bar in a similar manner to his.
"Target has taken the bait," Tony chattered in his ear. "Seriously, the whole order the same drink shtick? Laaaame."
Clint ignored the banter and looked to the man on his left.
"Some party huh?" he stated "I'm not sure who this Vontas guy is, but he knows how to impress his guests."
Clint shifted his body, propping his right side on the bar. He was facing Vontas full on now.
"Very impressive," he waved, sipping his brandy.
Vontas smiled, stepping closer to Clint.
"You don't know the man? This is a very exclusive party, how did you manage to get in?"
"Barney brought me as his plus one."
The archer motioned to the table closest to the bar. A middle aged man sat there, very engaged with the green eyed brunette seated across from him.
"I ran into him at the airport today, first time I've seen him in a year. I wanted to take him for drinks, but he insisted he couldn't turn down this invitation. I can see why now."
He and Vontas had a clear view of "Barney" and his romantic exploits. When the man reached for his companion's hands Clint scoffed, swirling his drink in mock disgust.
"Takes me to a party to catch up and he runs off seducing women," Clint took a sip from his drink. "Typical Barney."
The two men shared a laugh.
"The way you have him eating up the bullshit spewing from your mouth is simply amazing."
Tony's comments were once more ignored.
"I'm sure you could manage to find some company if you are truly lonely."
Vontas practically purred his sentence. He signaled to the bartender, ordering another round of Brandy now that their glasses were empty.
"I kind of thought I already had," Clint whispered with a mischievous grin.
Vontas' eyes flashed with excitement, his grin ear to ear when Clint extended his hand.
"John Bateman, and you?"
Clint shook his hand and awaited the name drop he knew Vontas' ego craved so much.
"Alexi Vontas. Nice to meet you John."
He met the arms dealer's prideful grin with the appropriate amount of surprise, then settled his mouth into a flirty smirk.
"You have a very nice house Alexi."
"Well if you're that infatuated," Vontas leaned closer until their shoulders brushed against each other "I could always arrange for you to see more."
"Don't you have guests to attend to?"
"Ehhh."
Vontas waved dissmissedly towards the crowd of party goers.
"Most of these people are only here for the open bar."
"Aren't they always?" Clint chuckled.
Vontas set his tumbler down on the bar. He stood from his stool and gestured towards the elevator.
"Right this way Mister Bateman."
The dealer left the bar, slinking through the crowd towards his golden elevator. Clint took that as a signal to follow, and went after him. If he played his part right, Vontas' tour should lead him to a private section of the building.
"He's telling his guards to back off. Clint Barton you little minx!"
Tony was nearly dying from laughter on the other end of the mic. Looking upwards, Clint saw the smile that matched the chuckles.
"Twenty minutes is all it took to get the man to lead you to his bed."
"I was trained by the best. You should have seen Coulson in his prime, that man knew how to turn heads."
"Agent taught you how to be sexy? Bullshit."
"I'm telling the truth. You can ask him for lessons when we get back."
Clint traversed the entirety of the ballroom in a matter of minutes. Rushed steps caught him up the arms dealer just as he reached the three step flight of stairs that led to the elevator door.
"I'll follow through once you know where you're going." Tony chirped.
The two blondes stepped into the golden room in tandem. The elevator man promptly shut the doors after a nod from Vontas. The lift sprung to life, lowering them and reopening at the lobby.
"This elevator only leads to the public floors," Vontas explained. "My private elevator is on the other side of the lobby."
"Makes sense."
Clint followed him across the floor. The private elevator was neatly hidden on the opposite side of the lobby, just as Vontas had said. It was tucked behind corner wall, making it invisible from the front door. When they were safely tucked behind the dividing wall, Alexi reached into his suit pocket, pulling out a small plastic card. He slid it through a card scanner mounted on the wall besides the lift. The doors opened after a moment, revealing and interior considerably less flashy than the public elevator. Clint stepped into the compartment as Vontas pressed the fifth floor button.
"I thought we'd start with the recreational floor first."
"Sounds like a fine idea."
Clint shot the man a flirty smile. He was given an equally coy grin in response.
The fifth floor was indeed built for entertainment. It was a wide open space, sectioned off into numerous smaller areas. From the entryway Clint could see a large television surrounded by stadium style couches, another bar – smaller than the one in the ballroom – and an expensive looking pool table.
"Excuse me for a moment." Vontas called as he crossed the room. "I'm going to get out of this monkey suit. Feel free to make yourself more comfortable."
In the far right, just after an opening to another hallway, was a clear glass stairwell. It climbed the walls of the room, leading to what Clint assumed was the master bedroom. Alexi clamored up the staircase, loosening his tie as he walked. As soon as the arms dealer left the room, Clint was on him headset.
"Tony, get back to the lobby and find Vontas' private elevator. We're on the fifth floor. You'll need to bypass his security, but that shouldn't be too hard for you."
"Roger that."
Once that was finished, Clint removed his own tie. He let out a sigh of relief once its tight grip released its hold on his neck. With similar joy he slipped out of his suit coat, throwing it haphazardly towards the stadium seats. Being more of a t-shirt man himself, Clint was always happy when he had an excuse to get out of suits.
Vontas came back down the stairs as soon as Clint's coat hit the cushions of the couch. He made his way towards the bar, now sporting a ridiculously cliché Hugh Hefner style smoking jacket. Once he reached the gleaming mahogany counter, he began to fashion two drinks.
"I don't know if you're fond of billiards, but we could play a game if you like. I also have a substantial movie collection you could browse, or if you prefer the classic arts, several paintings in the hall to your right."
Vontas brought the drinks over, brandy two fingers neat just as before, and handed one to Clint. The blond assassins graciously accepted the drink, but did not consume the beverage. He could already feel the effects of his earlier drinks setting in; it was in his best interest to pass on this round of brandy. Instead he listened to the chatter coming from Tony's end of the comm system.
"Holy frick, Clint these French girls just won't leave me alone. Ok they're gone, great."
"So long as it's not modern art, I just don't understand the significance of dots and squiggles," Clint grinned over the rim of his glass.
Vontas chuckled and turned back to the bar. His glass needed a refill.
"That security was laughably pathetic. I'll be on your floor in a second."
"Fantastic." Clint whispered.
He walked to the bar, standing directly in front of Vontas on the opposite side of the wood.
"Although I'm sure your collection is in as good of taste as the rest of your possessions, I don't know as if I want to look at art tonight."
Clint set his glass down on the surface of the bar, and leaned against the structure. His ran his fingers across the glossy top, tracing twirling patterns as he longingly gazed into Alexi's eyes.
"Well then what do you want to do?"
It was a loaded question, of course. Clint didn't give the man the instant gratification he knew Alexi desired, instead answered the man with silence and a teasing smile.
"You know, the view from this floor is spectacular."
Clint spoke in a low, rolling voice. He coaxed a seductive smile onto his face, beckoning to Vontas to come out from behind the bar. The man got the hint. He abandoned his drink, setting the glass onto the counter as he returned to Clint. Trying not to think too much, Clint slipped his arm into the crook of his companion's. They strode over to the windows looking out onto the glittering city. Vontas slipped arm around Clint's waist, pulling him closer until they were pressed closer together than Clint had ever wanted. The scarred blond ran his fingers around Clint's back, just as the archer had done on the bar.
"It's so alive," the archer exclaimed, "so… stimulating."
That drove Vontas over the edge. He jerked Clint towards him, fully embracing the archer and pressing them together chest to chest.
"My thoughts exactly."
Clint bit back the noises of disgust bubbling in his throat as Vontas lowered his mouth to the archer's neck. It took all the will he had not to squirm when Alexi began to kiss every inch of skin within his reach.
"Clint, I don't like those sounds I'm hearing. I'm on your floor, heading into the room as we speak."
"Please hurry."
Unfortunately, Vontas took that as his cue to move things along. He reached up to the buttons of Clint's shirt, undoing the first two before Clint could stop him. His hands flew to his collar faster than they had ever moved before. They latched on to Vontas' hands, pulling them away from his chest.
"Wait, are we alone."
"Of course," Vontas' huskily panted. "No one will ever know about this."
Clint watched over the arms dealer's shoulder as the door on the far side of the room opened. Tony stood in the entryway, his expression a mixture of shock and amusement. The look Clint gave him was anything but friendly.
"Perfect."
He dipped his shoulder down, and forced it into Vontas' chest. With a quick jerk of the hands still in his grasp, he pulled the arms dealer over his shoulder. The man flipped upside down, landing with a thud behind Clint. A second later, the archer had him kneeling with his arms twisted behind his back.
"That will be enough of that."
The archer felt a presence near his side. He turned his head to find Tony, now on their side of the room, holding back a fit of laughter.
"So, does Nat know about your-"
"Tony id you breath a fucking word of this outside of this room," Clint barked, "I will tell Steve everything."
And there we go!
I'm so super sorry this came pretty late. I've had some issues lately with school and family. Good news though, I am officially done with school and have the whole summer at my disposal. Updates should come more frequently.
As always, any feedback you give me is appreciated. Your satisfaction is what drives me to write!