Author's Note: Tony is a good bro! I love the bromance fluff, and also gratuitous Clint pining so cute! Cap Tony is awesome. Hope you enjoy this I promise there will be smut eventually. For now though enjoy all the feels. Thank you ravingbeauty we're looking good.
That Has Such People
Part VII – Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart
It was a very conflicted Tony Stark that shuffled into the kitchen next morning.
He'd spent much of his night and most of the morning going over the prior night's conversation with Steve, rehashing everything over and over, wondering and worrying. He couldn't really figure out why he was so anxious – he just was.
Worrying his lower lip, the soldier was already pulling eggs and bacon out of the fridge when he registered the presence of a sleep-tousled archer at the kitchen table. Pushing aside his own worries for the moment, he grinned at his teammate. "Morning."
Clint yawned and gazed at him sleepily. "Morn'n, Cap," he returned.
Recalling his revelation the previous night, Tony tossed the blond a wink. "Tired out?" he teased.
The other frowned, brows knitting in confusion as Tony gave him a knowing grin. The man from the past set the pan of bacon on the stove; bacon was definitely one of his favorite things.
"I feel like I'm missing something," Clint said, expression still bewildered.
Turning from his cooking, Tony held his spatula over his heart, "Say no more – no kiss and tell, I get it." Returning to his cooking, he missed the way the agent stiffened behind him.
"I'm happy for you, though. It's good to find someone you share a connection with," Tony continued, sounding, he hoped, knowledgeable – although he really didn't know all that much about it. His relationship experience was almost nonexistent. Mostly he'd lived vicariously through Howard and Rhodes, and later his men. He was still too embarrassed to admit that the few times he'd been on dates, the women had been paid by his brother. Howard had meant well, but Tony wasn't comfortable paying for a woman's affection.
At almost thirty now, he was very sadly still a virgin. He'd go to his damn grave before he'd admit to it, though.
Humming now, Tony was getting ready to flip the bacon when suddenly hands gripped his shoulders, spinning him around to face a worried Clint Barton.
"Cap, what are you talking about?" Clint asked very slowly, very cautiously.
Tony hesitated, concern furrowing his brow; maybe he wasn't supposed to know about the relationship. As understanding dawned he gave the smaller man a knowing look.
"I won't tell anyone. Your secret's safe with me," he promised.
"What are you not going to tell?" Clint asked, suddenly looking pale.
Tony cocked his head, "That you and Bruce are together."
The look of horror on the assassin's face made him feel awful; apparently he'd misunderstood the situation terribly.
Catching a whiff of something burning, Tony quickly turned off the burner before returning to the conversation. "I'm sorry, I just assumed. I saw you on the couch last night…" he said, trailing off as Clint groaned.
"No, Cap. We're not in a relationship," he muttered, leaning heavily against the counter as he buried his face his hands. The man from the past winced.
Running a hand through dark hair he sighed. "Sorry," he muttered again, wondering how he'd so badly misread the situation.
"Not your fault," Clint said with a hollow laugh. "I didn't think I was being so obvious," he muttered forlornly.
Breakfast forgotten for the moment, Tony edged closer to the despondent man. "So you like Bruce?"
"Yeah, I do," he mumbled as he looked at his feet.
Tony crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. "So why not tell him?" he asked logically.
Horrified gray eyes looked up at him. "I couldn't do that," he hissed, scandalized.
"Why not? If you like him…" Tony trailed off as Clint vehemently shook his head.
"Are you crazy? I couldn't do that! What if he doesn't like me back?" he hissed. "I'm not even sure if he's into guys for that matter," he continued. Then the gray, pleading eyes met Tony's. "You won't tell him, will you?"
Tony Stark sighed, unsure how he had managed to get himself into this predicament. Honestly, all he'd wanted was to fit in with his team. Talking about relationships, women, men… that's how he'd bonded with his soldiers. At least that's how it'd been done in his day.
Poor Clint; he really was asking the wrong guy. Tony was completely out of his element here. He talked a big game, but when it came down to it, he'd rather storm a Hydra base than try and tell someone he loved them.
Realizing the other man was still waiting for an answer, Tony found himself reluctantly agreeing, "Of course, your secret safe's with me." Patting him on the shoulder, Tony offered a comforting smile, "Did you um, want some breakfast?"
Relieved, Clint gave him a tentative smile, "Sure."
Tony nodded and returned to his bacon, while Clint returned to his seat at the kitchen table. The dark haired man poked at his pan to see if it was salvageable. Sniffing a crispy piece, he shrugged and munched on the remains of his first attempt as he put some fresh pieces in the pan. Once more the smell of sizzling bacon filled the kitchen. Tony was absently humming and munching again when Clint spoke again.
"You umm, you don't seem all that offended by…." he trailed off, looking suddenly embarrassed.
Tony glanced at the archer out of the corner of his eye; he understood what the man was driving at. "What am I supposed to be offended by?" he asked innocently, wondering just how far Clint would go.
"Well, I mean you're from the 1940s, and gays…" he trailed off again.
"You didn't invent homosexuality, you know. It's been around a long while," Tony replied dryly. Bacon done, he slid the pieces onto a paper towel covered plate before moving to rinse out the pan.
"Well, I know that, I just mean..."
Clint looked so flustered – and Tony had to admit he was enjoying the man's discomfort. Sometimes failing to meet expectations was vastly amusing.
"You expected ignorance and hate?" he asked tonelessly, setting his freshly washed skillet back to the stove.
"Yes!" Clint blurted before rethinking what he'd said. "No, I mean…" He sighed and trailed off.
At the helpless look on Clint's face, Tony took pity on him.
"You're not wrong," Tony said as he buttered the pan. "It was very much frowned upon in my time. It didn't stop it from happening though. During the war some men found solace in each other."
Then he turned, offering Clint a small smile, "Who am I to judge? Love is love."
Gray eyes blinked at him in surprise; there was perhaps even a little awe in Clint's expression. Chuckling at the stunned look, Tony turned back to his eggs and let the man mull over his words.
"That's very forward thinking of you, Cap," he said, still looking a little shaken.
Embarrassed by the praise Tony shrugged. "Howard always said I was ahead of my time. My best friend growing up was Negro – sorry, African American," he looked back as he gestured with his spatula. Clint could only nod.
Hawkeye watched as the man went back to flipping his eggs. The archer felt more than a little shell-shocked by the whole morning. Captain America had wished him well on his homosexual relationship, something that he was apparently completely okay with. As it turned out the Cap was a rather good confidant.
The man was full of surprises.
"… He'd be amazed to see how far civil rights had come now," Tony was still talking as he buttered toast. "Sometimes when we went out, certain places…" he trailed off, face suddenly thunderous and more than a little heartsick.
"There used to be 'whites only' places," he spat. Looking down sadly, he barely noticed the now bent knife he held in his hand.
Clint felt his heart break a little for the man. "I guess the future isn't all bad then?" he ventured.
Plates ready, Tony joined him at the table and slid a plate of toast, eggs, and bacon over to him. Tony held up his mug of coffee, "To the future."
Chuckling, Clint clinked back, "Cheers, Cap."
-#-#-#-
"Cap, what are you doing right now?" Clint called as he strode excitedly into the room. The dark haired man was currently settled in one of the overly large armchairs, sketchbook in his lap, glasses on his nose.
"Building a rocket," he answered sarcastically. The comment earned him a chuckle from Bruce, who was settled on the couch, work spread across the coffee table.
"Ha ha," Clint returned sarcastically. "Come on, got somewhere I wanna take you."
Tony perked up at that. "Oh yeah? Where to?"
"Not telling," Clint said with a devilish gleam in his gray eyes. "You'll have to come."
Grinning, Tony stood tossing aside his sketchbook. "What about you, Bruce? Up for a little adventure?" he asked, ignoring the suddenly panicked look Clint was giving him.
"Sorry, I'll have to pass," Bruce declined. "I need to get through all this before Steve leaves tomorrow."
Tony hid his disappointment, "Ok, see you later."
Bruce gave the pair a wave, "Have fun, kids." Seconds later the scientist heard the elevator ding and he was alone. Sipping his tea, the curly haired man made it through two more pages before the elevator sounded again and a new figure stepped off.
Steve Rogers strode in, looking larger than life; Bruce felt oddly small in his presence. Without breaking stride he veered into the kitchen, eyes on his phone as he tapped away.
"Hey, Bruce," he called.
The scientist chuckled as he called back, "Hey, Steve."
The brilliant man appeared seconds later, a cup of coffee in hand and his suit jacket missing. "How goes the battle?" the genius asked as he glanced over the paperwork.
"It goes," Bruce, sighed and leaned back on the couch.
"Think it'll be ready for tomorrow?" he queried, perching on the arm.
"Or I'll die trying," the scientist sassed back.
"That's the spirit," Steve declared, holding his coffee in salute. Smirking lopsidedly, Bruce tugged his glasses off to clean the lenses. There was a long moment of silence as Steve tapped away on his phone.
"Where are the other two?" the billionaire asked curiously.
Bruce waved dismissively as he slipped his glasses back on, "Went out." He didn't fail to notice the frown on Steve's face.
"Again? They've gone out everyday this week."
Brow furrowing, the doctor shrugged, "Yeah, I guess. Never really thought about it."
Steve snorted and looked down at his phone again, trying to be nonchalant, "They seemed to get close awful fast."
"I guess so," Bruce responded as he watched his friend curiously, wondering what he was driving at. "Tony's only been back a week, I'm sure Clint's just showing him around," he explained, suddenly questioning himself. He hadn't thought anything of it until now.
Steve leveled a dispassionate look at him before glancing down to his ringing phone. "Got to take this," he said by way of an excuse and left the room.
Alone with his thoughts now, Bruce worried his lip. Steve was right… the two were getting awfully close. A sudden uncomfortable pang rippled through his chest. He didn't like that idea, didn't like it at all. His other half echoed the sentiment with an uneasy growl.
-#-#-#-
Bacon ice cream.
It was official – everything was better with bacon.
"Told you," Clint said smugly lapping at his own pumpkin cone.
"I have no idea where you keep finding these places," he muttered as he slurped the dripping cream.
"The Internet, man. Google is without a doubt the best invention ever," Clint said, dropping on a bench to continue eating his treat.
"Amen to that," Tony said empathetically, joining him.
Falling into a comfortable silence, the pair enjoyed the unseasonably warm fall day. Tony's mind idly drifted over the last week; since that awkward encounter in the kitchen with Clint, they had both found a friendship.
Surprisingly, they found they got along famously. Sparring, watching movies, and going out to the most obscure places to eat that Clint could find – Tony was loving every moment of it. To have formed even a small bond with his teammate was amazing.
For his part, Clint was pleasantly surprised to have found a kindred sprit in the Cap. He was learning the man from the past wasn't at all like he had expected. He knew Captain America, the cool, brave, badass tactician who he'd follow to battle any day. But now he getting to know Tony Stark and that, he was thinking, was even better.
"Why did you ask Bruce to come?" Clint asked hesitantly.
Tony swallowed down the last of his cone, "So you can talk to him."
Gray eyes narrowed. "Why can't you just let me pine in peace?" he moaned dramatically, finishing up his own cone.
"Because," he answered eloquently. "Why don't you just tell him you like him?" Tony asked as he settled back against the bench to watch the busy New York afternoon.
"The point of an unrequited love is that it's unrequited," Clint said.
"Seems silly," Tony returned.
"So are your suspenders," the blond retorted.
Laughing, Tony shrugged. "Everyone seems so concerned with what I wear," he mused. Turning to his companion, he stood and held out one hand. "Come on, let's go back. I'll show you some of my new stuff."
Clint perked up, "Oh yeah?"
Falling into the flow of the crowd, they headed for home.
"I've got one I think you'll like."
-#-#-#-
Steve Rogers did not sulk. He was worth billons of dollars, he was a genius, and he was a fucking superhero. He did not sulk.
Only apparently, when big, dark haired super soldiers were concerned, he did.
Angrily he slammed his chest plate down on the workbench, sending tools skidding across the floor. Butterfingers angrily whirred at him as it began to clean up.
"Don't sass me," he mumbled at the robot. "Stupid archers," he grumbled as he stared moodily at the cluttered workspace. He didn't understand what the hell had happened. Why was Tony spending all his time with Clint?
Granted, he had been rather busy with a merger that was set to close soon, but that wasn't reason for Tony to spend all his time with the assassin. They seemed to be constantly going out for dinner or watching movies… The hot flare of jealousy that rippled through him made him want to punch something.
Slumping on his stool, Steve sighed heavily. Howard had been his godfather. His father had been Howard's partner, for Christ's sake. Tony should be coming to him, relying on him. He wanted to be the one Tony sought out when he needed someone.
"Just want him to need me," he said softly, staring unseeingly at the far wall.
-#-#-#-
"These are awesome, Tony," Clint said enthusiastically as he stared at the pages.
The archer knew Tony was a phenomenal artist, but he'd sort of thought the Cap only did comics. Not that those weren't cool; his comics were amazing. These, however… really, he had no words. Tony had managed to capture the Avengers perfectly; the emotion pouring off the pages was staggering.
There were so many, too… The team after the battle, sitting ragged and worn around the table and eating shawarma. Iron Man dodging the falling body of one of the Chitauri. Black Widow fighting, Thor mid-swing, and even the Hulk in the middle of smashing an enemy.
His favorite, though, and the one he kept returning to, was of him and Bruce. Candid, it was an almost intimate moment that Clint remembered very well, as he was pretty sure it was the moment he'd fallen in love with the scientist.
Just after the fight, both of them were dirty and disheveled, Bruce holding tight to the tattered remains of his pants. The Doc was exhausted but he was smiling just a bit, his lips quirking, while Clint was full out grinning as he leaned on his bow.
It was touching and beautiful. "For you," Tony said quietly, sliding the thick drawing paper towards the archer.
Shocked, Clint blinked at him. "No, I couldn't," he said even as he touched the drawing reverently .
Snorting, Tony pushed it closer. "Clint, I would be a lucky man if my publishers had looked at my work with even half that reverence."
How could he refuse? Happily Clint accepted the drawing and gave his newfound friend a smile. "You're a good man, Tony."
Embarrassed, Tony shuffled through his papers. "Course I am, I'm Captain America."
Clint reached out and gently laid a hand on his arm, causing Tony to pause. "No, not Captain America – Tony Stark," he said earnestly.
Tony had no idea what to do; flustered, he felt his neck heat and looked away. Clint, sensing the sudden awkward tension, cracked a smile. "A good man, but definitely a weird one."
Tony quirked his own grin, "I was weird in the 1940s, too." Clint blinked before laughing heartily and Tony shared in the mirth until the archer's ringing cell phone interrupted.
Still grinning, Clint answered with a brisk, "Barton."
As the blond moved away, Tony rounded up his pictures, still a little embarrassed, but warmed by the complement from the other. He knew Captain America had become a rallying point, more a symbol than anything, or at least he had been during the war.
Still… to know that he, Tony Stark, was recognized gave him more hope than anything else.
"Urgh," Clint said as he hung up, causing Tony to look over at him with a raised brow.
"Mission," he elaborated. "I have to get going, but… would you do me a favor?" he asked hesitantly.
Drawings gathered in his book once more, Tony looked up, "Sure."
Clint looked down at the picture in his hands, "Would you maybe keep an eye on Bruce for me?"
Tony barely managed to suppress a wide smile. "I think I can mange that," he returned, his expression stoic and solemn.
Clint looked relieved, "Thanks, I guess I'll see you in a week or so."
Tony smiled at the other man, "Good luck, come back safe."
Hawkeye gave him a cocky grin, "I always do."
-#-#-#-
It was quiet.
Far, far too quiet.
He hadn't quite realized just how quiet the Tower could get – especially for a building in the middle of New York, the busiest city in America. Sighing, Tony stubbed out his cigarette and exhaled as the last of the crimson sun faded away and darkness crept across the city.
Closing his book, the super soldier headed back inside. He wasn't so fond of the quiet these days. The seedy motels with paper-thin walls had been just fine with him. It meant there were people close by. The silence reminded him of the ice…
Shivering, he frowned, telling himself it was just in his head. He wasn't in the ice; there were people around. As much as he tried to convince himself of that fact, though, he still couldn't bear to be alone.
Calling up his mental map of the Tower, Tony headed to the elevator. His first stop was Bruce's lab; he had a promise to keep.
As the doors dinged on the lower level, Tony stepped off and glanced around. He could see the doctor bent over his microscope, looking absorbed in his work.
Satisfied the scientist was hale and hearty, he stepped back into the elevator and headed for the ground floor, barely feeling the movement of the machine as it whisked him downwards. Tony had a very specific destination in mind.
Steve had only briefly shown him his workshop during his tour, just gesturing to the metal and glass room before taking him into the Tower proper, and he hadn't been back down since.
Not because he didn't want to, but because he knew it was Steve's sanctuary, just as Howard's workshop had been his. His brother's lab had been a sacred space to him, and while Tony had always been welcome, some days he'd felt like he was intruding.
The elevator reached the bottom and he stepped out, already able to hear the steady beat of music muffled by the wall of glass. He approached the door but hesitated just outside as a sudden uncertainty settled over him.
Maybe he wasn't welcome here… After all, he'd never been invited. Worrying his lower lip, he all but glared at his slippered feet. Maybe he should have just gone to bed…
He was so far in his own mind that he missed the sudden silence within, the door sliding silently open.
"Lurk in doorways often?" an amused voice asked. Jolting, Tony looked up to find intelligent blue eyes regarding him with amusement.
Embarrassed, Tony shifted on his feet. "No," he said softly.
Steve simply raised an eyebrow. "Come on in, Cap."
Turning, Steve disappeared back inside the lab, leaving Tony to hesitate only a moment before slowly following.