Okay.
The next day the team met with Fury receiving a mission. The mission was supposed to be simple—an intel retrieval operation in the middle of nowhere. SHIELD had flagged the location as a potential Hydra outpost, but recon suggested minimal resistance. Easy in, easy out. Clint had been assigned as the infiltrator, naturally, while Tony, in full Iron Man mode, provided aerial support in case things went sideways.
And, of course, things did go sideways. They always did.
Clint had made it inside the building without a hitch, his movements silent and precise as he slipped through dimly lit corridors. The intel was easy to locate, tucked away in a secured server room. What hadn’t been accounted for, however, was the hidden Hydra contingent lying in wait—heavily armed and clearly expecting company.
Tony was monitoring everything from above, his voice crackling in Clint’s comms as the first shots rang out.
“Barton, what’s happening in there?” Tony’s voice was sharp, laced with concern.
“Just a welcoming committee,” Clint grunted, ducking behind a console as bullets ricocheted around him. He loosed an arrow that detonated on impact, taking out one of the Hydra agents. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not loving the sound of that,” Tony shot back. “I’m coming in.”
“Don’t bother,” Clint said, his tone clipped as he fired another arrow. “I’ve got it under control.”
But he didn’t. Not really. The agents kept coming, and while Clint was holding his own, he could feel the tide turning against him. His quiver was running low, and the sound of approaching reinforcements wasn’t doing much for his confidence.
“Clint,” Tony’s voice came again, more urgent this time. “You’re outnumbered. Let me help.”
“I said I’ve got it!” Clint snapped, even as his heart raced. He was pinned down now, a fresh wave of Hydra agents pouring into the room. He fired his last arrow, a flashbang, and used the momentary chaos to make a break for the exit.
But then he heard it—a soft click that froze him in place. A landmine, hidden beneath a loose floor panel. He hadn’t seen it, hadn’t even thought to check in his rush to escape. His foot was pressed down on the trigger, and he knew the second he lifted it, the mine would detonate.
“Damn it,” Clint muttered under his breath, his mind racing. There was no way out of this. No time to disarm it, no tools to work with. He was trapped.
“Clint? What’s going on?” Tony’s voice crackled in his ear, sharp with worry.
Clint swallowed hard, his hand tightening around the bow still clutched in his grip. “I’m… stuck,” he admitted reluctantly. “Stepped on a mine. Can’t move.”
There was silence on the other end for half a second, and then Tony’s voice came through, tight and determined. “Hold on. I’m coming.”
“Stark, don’t—”
“Shut up, Clint,” Tony snapped, and for once, Clint didn’t argue. He stood there, his breath coming in shallow gulps, as the sound of repulsors grew louder.
It wasn’t long before Tony blasted his way into the room, his armor glinting in the dim light. His HUD scanned the floor, locking onto the mine beneath Clint’s boot.
“You weren’t kidding,” Tony muttered, kneeling beside the device. His hands moved with practiced precision as he analyzed the mechanism. “This thing’s a dinosaur, but it’s rigged to blow if you so much as sneeze.”
“Yeah, I figured that part out,” Clint said, his voice strained. “Any chance you can disarm it?”
Tony didn’t respond right away, his focus entirely on the mine. Clint could see his hands trembling slightly as he worked, the tension radiating off him in waves.
“Tony,” Clint said, his tone softer now. “If you can’t—”
“Don’t,” Tony interrupted, his voice sharp. “Don’t you dare say it. I’m not losing you.”
Clint blinked, the words hitting harder than any explosion ever could. He didn’t have time to process them, though, because a moment later, Tony was yanking him backward with surprising strength, his armor shielding them both as the mine detonated.
The explosion was deafening, the shockwave knocking them both to the ground. Clint’s ears rang, his vision swimming, but he was alive. Somehow, against all odds, Tony had saved him.
“Barton?” Tony’s voice cut through the haze, his hands gripping Clint’s shoulders. “You okay? Talk to me.”
Clint nodded weakly, his throat dry. “Yeah. I’m… yeah.”
Tony didn’t look convinced, but he helped Clint to his feet, his hands lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Come on. Let’s get out of here”
-
Back at the tower, Clint barely had time to catch his breath before Tony started unraveling. It began as they stepped off the Quinjet, Tony ripping off his helmet with shaky hands and tossing it aside. He didn’t even wait for Clint before storming into the common area, his movements erratic.
“Tony—” Clint started, following him inside, but Tony spun around to face him, his expression a mix of anger, fear, and something else Clint couldn’t quite place.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Tony demanded, his voice rising. “You could have died, Clint! Do you get that? You almost—” He broke off, dragging a hand through his hair as he paced. “God, I thought I was going to lose you.”
Clint stood there, unsure of what to say. He’d seen Tony lose his cool before, but this was different. The way his chest heaved, the way his hands trembled—it was like Tony was coming apart at the seams.
“Tony,” Clint said softly, stepping closer. “I’m okay.”
“You weren’t okay,” Tony shot back, his voice cracking. “You were one second away from—” He stopped again, his breath hitching as he pressed a hand to his chest, like he was trying to physically hold himself together.
Clint didn’t think. He just moved, crossing the space between them and pulling Tony into his arms. For a moment, Tony resisted, his body stiff and tense, but then he sagged against Clint, his hands clutching at his shirt as if he was afraid to let go.
“I couldn’t lose you,” Tony whispered, his voice muffled against Clint’s shoulder. “I can’t. Not you.”
Clint held him tighter, his own chest aching at the raw emotion in Tony’s words. “You didn’t,” he said quietly. “I’m right here.”
Tony’s breathing was ragged, almost like he was hyperventilating, and Clint gently guided them to the couch, easing Tony down before sitting beside him. He kept his arms wrapped around him, one hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.
“Breathe,” Clint murmured. “Slow, Stark. You’re okay.”
Tony nodded, his breaths gradually evening out as Clint held him. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, the world outside the tower fading into the background. When Tony finally pulled back, his eyes were red-rimmed, but his expression was calmer.
“You’re not allowed to scare me like that again,” Tony said, his voice still shaky but laced with a hint of humor.
Clint huffed a quiet laugh. “I’ll do my best.”
Tony gave him a small, crooked smile, and for the first time that night, Clint felt like they were going to be okay. Whatever this was between them—whatever it was becoming—they’d figure it out. Together.
Clint didn’t let go of Tony entirely, even as the other man pulled back to sit straighter on the couch. His arm stayed loosely slung around Tony’s shoulders, a quiet, grounding presence. Clint wasn’t exactly the touchy-feely type, but he figured exceptions could be made when someone was this shaken up.
Tony sat there, staring down at his hands, his fingers still trembling faintly. Clint watched him, the silence stretching between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable, not really, but it was heavy. He’d never seen Tony like this—this raw, this vulnerable. The man was always so composed, even behind all the bravado and snark, like he carried his chaos in a carefully controlled box. But now? That box had cracked wide open.
“You okay?” Clint asked after a while, his voice soft, almost hesitant.
Tony let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. “Define ‘okay.’ Because if ‘okay’ means I’m not having a borderline meltdown after almost watching you turn into a fine mist, then no, I’m not okay.”
Clint winced but didn’t say anything. What could he say? Tony had a point. It had been too close, even for Clint’s taste. And he wasn’t exactly known for playing it safe.
“I thought I’d be fine,” Tony continued, his voice quieter now, almost like he was talking to himself. “I’ve seen worse. I’ve been through worse. But when I saw you standing there, on that mine, knowing there was a real chance I wouldn’t get to you in time…” He trailed off, swallowing hard. “I just—I couldn’t let it happen.”
“You didn’t,” Clint said firmly. “You got to me in time. I’m here, Stark. In one piece.”
Tony huffed out a weak laugh, shaking his head. “Barely. One second later, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“But we are,” Clint pointed out. “You did what you always do—you saved the day. So stop beating yourself up.”
Tony glanced at him, his expression softening just slightly. “You make it sound so simple.”
Clint shrugged. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
Tony fell silent again, his gaze dropping to the floor. Clint could tell he was still spiraling, trapped in his own head, so he tightened his arm around Tony’s shoulders and gave him a light squeeze.
“Look,” Clint said, his voice steady. “I’ve been in this game a long time. I know the risks. And yeah, sometimes it gets ugly. But that’s part of the job. You can’t save everyone, Stark. Hell, half the time, you can’t even save yourself.” He paused, his tone softening. “But you saved me. That’s what matters.”
Tony looked up at him, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and gratitude. “You’re way too calm about this, you know that?”
Clint smirked faintly. “It’s a gift.”
Tony rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “You’re infuriating.”
“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” Clint shot back, echoing Tony’s earlier words.
That finally drew a real smile out of Tony, small but genuine. He leaned back against the couch, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. Clint let the silence settle again, but this time, it felt lighter, less suffocating.
After a while, Tony spoke again, his voice quieter. “You scared me, Clint. I don’t get scared like that. Not anymore.”
Clint tilted his head, studying Tony. “Yeah, well, you scared me too. I didn’t think you’d make it in time.”
Tony glanced at him, something vulnerable flickering in his eyes. “You didn’t think I’d come for you?”
“No, I knew you’d come,” Clint said, shaking his head. “I just didn’t think you’d make it. Not with how close it was.”
Tony frowned, his expression troubled. “You shouldn’t have to think about that.”
Clint raised an eyebrow. “And you think I want you freaking out over it? We’re in this together, Stark. You don’t get to carry all of it.”
Tony looked like he wanted to argue, but instead, he just sighed, leaning his head back against the couch. “Together, huh?”
“Yeah,” Clint said simply. “Together.”
They sat there for a while longer, the tension finally easing as the weight of the night began to fade. Clint kept his arm around Tony, and Tony didn’t pull away, his head eventually resting against Clint’s shoulder. Neither of them said anything, but they didn’t need to.
“Don’t think this means I’m gonna stop giving you hell for being reckless,” Tony said eventually, his voice muffled against Clint’s shoulder.
Clint chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Right back at you, Stark.”
Tony smiled faintly, closing his eyes. “Deal.”