Breaking the Routine
Clint Barton wasn’t one to settle into routines. His life had always been chaotic—missions, danger, and unpredictability were his constants. But with Tony Stark, things had started to shift.
The nightly visits, the playful banter, the stolen kisses—it all felt like a pattern Clint could get used to. Maybe even a pattern he didn’t want to break.
But Tony Stark didn’t do patterns.
That’s why, when Clint woke up one morning to find the bed empty and the usual hum of Tony’s presence absent, he immediately felt uneasy.
Tony was in his workshop. That wasn’t unusual. But the way he was hunched over his workbench, muttering to himself while frantically typing on a holographic keyboard, was.
“Hey,” Clint said, leaning against the doorway. “You okay?”
Tony didn’t look up. “Fine. Just… busy.”
Clint frowned, stepping further into the room. “Busy with what? Didn’t think you had anything on the docket today.”
Tony waved a hand dismissively. “Just something I’m tinkering with. No big deal.”
Clint narrowed his eyes. Tony’s tone was light, but the tension in his shoulders and the tightness in his jaw told a different story.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Clint said bluntly.
Tony finally looked up, his expression a mix of surprise and guilt. “I haven’t—”
“Yes, you have,” Clint interrupted. “What’s going on?”
Tony sighed, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing, really. Just… needed some space.”
Clint crossed his arms, not buying it. “Space from what? From me?”
Tony winced. “No, not from you. From… all of this.” He gestured vaguely around the room.
“All of this?” Clint repeated, his voice quieter now.
Tony hesitated, then said, “It’s just… things are getting serious, aren’t they?”
Clint’s heart sank. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No!” Tony said quickly, standing up and closing the distance between them. “No, it’s not a bad thing. It’s just… new. And I don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to… you know, serious things.”
Clint studied him for a moment, seeing the vulnerability beneath Tony’s bravado. “So you’re freaking out.”
“Maybe a little,” Tony admitted. “But it’s not because I don’t want this. I do. I just… I don’t want to mess it up.”
Clint sighed, his posture relaxing as he reached out to grab Tony’s hand. “You’re not going to mess it up. And even if you do, we’ll figure it out. That’s kind of how this works.”
Tony looked down at their joined hands, then back up at Clint, his expression softening. “You’re annoyingly good at this whole ‘relationship’ thing, you know that?”
Clint smirked. “You’re just figuring that out now?”
Tony laughed, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Okay, fine. No more avoiding. Deal?”
“Deal,” Clint said, pulling Tony into a quick kiss.
Later that night, as they lay in bed, Clint turned to Tony and said, “So, what were you really working on today?”
Tony hesitated for a moment, then said, “I was trying to design something. For you.”
“For me?” Clint asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Tony said, looking almost bashful. “It’s not ready yet, but… let’s just say it’s something to make sure you stay safe out there. Because, you know, I kind of like having you around.”
Clint stared at him, his heart doing that annoying fluttery thing it only seemed to do around Tony.
“You’re unbelievable,” he said, leaning in to kiss him.
“And yet,” Tony murmured against his lips, “here you are.”
Clint couldn’t argue with that.
-
The next day Clint watched Tony, mesmerized by the way he focused on his work. Without thinking, Clint stepped closer, heart pounding, and whispered, “What’s so interesting, genius?”
Tony looked up, his gaze piercing and intense. “You,” he replied, his voice low and serious. And in that moment, everything shifted. They moved closer until their lips were inches apart. Clint’s breath caught as Tony’s gaze flickered down to his mouth. Time stood still as their lips met—a tentative brush at first, exploring and testing.
Clint felt the softness of Tony’s lips against his own, a contrast to the usual bravado of their encounters. There was a sweetness in that kiss, as they both leaned into it. Tony's lips parted slightly, inviting Clint in. He took the cue, deepening the kiss, their mouths moving together in a fluid rhythm. Clint's hands found their way to Tony’s face, cupping it gently as he lost himself in the moment.
The kiss was electric—Tony tasted like the whiskey they had shared, a hint of smoke from his usual cigar lingering. Clint responded with a gentle tug of his bottom lip, drawing a soft groan from Tony. It was a sound that ignited something primal within Clint. He pressed forward, their mouths melding together, dancing in perfect sync, exploring the contours and textures of each other’s lips.
The kiss ended sooner than Clint would have liked, but Tony shoved him away with a smile on his face, “Clint, I’m busy”
He didn’t argue with that, instead he sat there watching him.