Ok, next part. I'm aiming for a "two-day-cycle", meaning I'll try to update every two days, now that I have to get every new chapter written before posting (having run out of my "stash"). No promises, though, cos - well, sometimes, life happens ... ;)

What the …?

It wasn't exactly that Tony was trying to delete that short talk from his memory. It just went the way of most information that wasn't crucial: He stored it away for further reference and then, forgot about it. At least until, about two weeks later, Banner cornered him in his workshop. He didn't speak immediately. For a while, he just stood there, looking very much like someone who really needed to get something off his chest but didn't quite know how to start.

"Spit it out, Banner", Tony finally told him, his eyes never leaving the project on the worktable, "before you choke on it and the Hulk thinks I was trying to murder you."

"Well –"
Banner rubbed the back of his neck.
"It's probably none of my business, but – have you noticed how Barton looks at you, recently?"

That got Tony's attention.

"The Hawk's always watching everything", he said with a slight frown.

"Not like that."

"Like what? Like he's trying to figure out how to murder me in my sleep?"
Tony grinned.

Banner shook his head.
"More like he's trying to figure out how to get into your bed. If you know what I mean."

And with that, he left.

Tony just stood there for a moment, his mouth hanging open, replaying the whole short conversation in his mind.

"What?" he blurted out.

And that was when he remembered that other talk. The one he'd had with the Hawk about two weeks ago.

He shook his head. The grin appeared on his face again. Of course. The Hawk was faking it. Trying to prove that he could pull it off. He'd already convinced Banner, obviously, that he'd developed a crush on him, Tony.

"Wonder how far he'll take it."

Did he want to make Rogers notice, too? Well, in that case, he'd have to lay it on a little thicker cos in matters like that, the dear Capsicle was about as perceptive as a slice of toast.

Two days later, Tony wasn't so sure anymore that the Hawk was just faking it. Because, now that he paid attention to it, he did catch the odd glance or two the other man directed at him. Nothing out of the usual, he tried to convince himself.

He couldn't help thinking, though, that he kinda lacked conviction.

After dinner, he was standing by a window in the living area, his back on the room, when, suddenly, he caught the Hawk's reflection in said window. Tony hadn't heard the guy enter the scene – he definitely knew how to sneak up on someone. Now, he stood there, watching Tony. Staring at him, actually.

Tony turned, ready to ask whether he'd suddenly sprouted tentacles from the back of his head or why else the stare. The look in the Hawk's eyes stopped him.

Longing. No, much more than that, actually. Desire.

It was there – and in the blink of an eye, it was gone. But Tony was absolutely sure he had seen it.

For a moment, it looked like the Hawk would say something.

Then, Tony heard someone approaching – by the sound of the footsteps, his guess was it was Rogers.

The Hawk turned away from Tony and quickly left, brushing past Rogers as he entered. Tony stared at his retreating back.

"What was that?" Rogers asked with a slight frown.

"Sonofabitch!"
Tony blinked.

Rogers' frown deepened at the curse.
"Language, Stark."

Tony looked at him.
"Banner was right!"

"And that's a reason to swear?" Rogers asked.

"In this case – yes, most definitely!"
Tony ran a hand through his hair.

The Hawk. Having a crush on him.

He's just faking it, a small voice whispered at the back of his mind.

He dismissed it. Impossible. You couldn't fake a look like that.

Of course he can. He told you so, remember?

Yes, he had indeed. Or maybe he had been lying. Maybe he wasn't as straight as he claimed …

Nonsense. He's bullshitting you, that's what's happening. You said you didn't believe him and he took it as a challenge.

Yes. That sounded reasonable, didn't it? More so, at least, than the Hawk developing a crush on him. Not that he would be the first guy to do so. Tony was exceptionally handsome, after all. But this was the Hawk!

He took in a deep breath.

"On second thought," he told Rogers, "maybe it isn't."

He patted the man on the shoulder and left.

And pointedly ignored the small voice that whispered that, maybe, he was wrong.