Insight offered (and sorely needed)
Clint getting hurt on a mission is a common thing but Clint getting hurt and getting pretty severe amnesia is something new.
”Holy shit, man, this place is awesome! Is all this yours?”
Clint almost topples over in his wide-eyed astonishment, saved by a stony-eyed Natasha who grips his shirt and yanks him back up.
”I mean, this is…” he gesticulates wildly with his crutch, almost smacking Tony in the head.
”Yes, yes, it’s all mine. Or, well, yours because this is the team common room and we all live here,” Tony explains for the umpteenth time. ”How about you sit your ass down before you decapitate one of us with your crutch? I’m pretty sure your aim is off a bit.”
Clint snorts. ”I’m the amazing Hawkeye, my aim is always impeccable!”
”Of course it is, Hawkling. Now, sit the fuck down.”
It takes a bit more cajoling to get Clint on the sofa and then it takes about three and a half seconds and he’s out like a light. Natasha lets out a controlled breath, drapes a blanket over him, and then exits the room with her back held stiff.
”It seems they gave him the really good drugs,” Tony mutters. ”JARVIS, make sure we wake him up every two hours. And keep Natasha and Coulson updated on his vitals.”
”Yes, sir. Might I also suggest you eat something? It’s been almost eighteen hours and no, the protein gel doesn’t count.”
Tony huffs and turns to head into the kitchen, only to almost collide with a very firm and lovely chest. He raises his head and, yep, Steve.
”You really should take better care of yourself,” Steve chides and shoves him a plate heaped with sandwiches. They’re filled in the true Captain America style: stuffed overly full because Steve had gone hungry his whole childhood and now consumes like 10,000 calories a day.
”I don’t have to, I have you,” Tony says with a wink and digs in. ”Do you have any—ohh, you know me so well, darling,” he croons through a full mouth as Steve hands him a giant mug of coffee.
”Don’t speak with your mouth open, it’s disgusting,” Steve says.
Tony rolls his eyes but makes a show of swallowing before making an obnoxious kiss face. Steve merely shakes his head in amusement before wolfing down his own sandwich.
”So, how long do you think he’ll be out of commission?” Tony asks when they were done.
Steve shrugs. ”I’m not sure. I’m more worried about his head injury than his leg.”
Tony nods. Clint had been forced to jump off a collapsing building and hadn’t managed to shoot his grappling arrow on a structurally secure target. He’d landed badly, breaking his left leg in four places and hitting his head. He’s been in and out of consciousness for hours and even though scans show no cranial bleeding, the team still worry. Of all of them, Clint is the most vulnerable even though he sometimes acts like he was invincible.
Tony doesn’t like it because that title belongs to him. Naturally.
”He’ll be fine. He’s tenacious,” Tony says with more ease than he actually felt.
”Natasha was worried,” Steve says quietly.
”Yeah… About that, where is she?”
”I think she went to debrief Coulson? She doesn’t take well Clint being hurt.”
Tony nods. He doesn’t pretend he understands anything that’s going on between Coulson, Clint, and Natasha, but as long as it works for them, who is he to comment? ”Wanna go over the mission?” He asks instead.
”Sure,” Steve says. ”Just let me get us more coffee.”
They settle in and with JARVIS as their assistant, go through the mission minute by minute, losing themselves in the familiar routine until JARVIS reminds them it’s time to check in on Clint.
”Hey, Legolas! Rise and shine!” Tony shouts cheerfully, shaking his shoulders.
”Tony! Don’t do that,” Steve hisses.
”What?”
”Shake him like that. He’s got a head injury, for Pete’s sake!”
”It’ was just a gentle shake, sugarplum. He’ll live.” Clint groans and Tony gives Steve a triumphant look. ”See? He lives!”
”I hate plums,” Clint mutters.
”That’s good to know, Clint,” Steve says. ”Do you know where you are?”
Clint pries one eye open. ”I’m right here.”
”Do you know what day it is?” Steve continues in that steady tone Tony knows means I’m-Captain-America-And-I’m-Totally-Calm-Even-Though-I’m-Worried-Sick.
”Circus life has no need for weekdays,” Clint says.
”Well, neither does Avenging,” Tony points out and decides on a different tactic. ”So, tell me, Clint, what makes Nerf guns so awesome?”
As Clint launches into a lecture on the awesomeness of different Nerf guns and why every adult should have at least three, Tony and Steve share a look.
”I mean, he sounds like Clint,” Tony says and Steve nods.
Clint lets out a groan and shifts, hissing out a curse. ”So, where’s your boyfriend?” He asks a moment later.
”My what now?” Tony asks. He’s in the armchair, doing some light tinkering on the schematics of Natasha’s batons while on Clint-watching duty. It’s been a couple of days and the amnesia is still going strong.
”The tall, blond, and handsome?”
Tony blinks. ”You mean, Steve?”
Clint gives him finger guns. ”Yep. Him.”
”He’s not—we’re not together.”
Clint scoffs. ”Yeah, right.” When Tony gives him an incredulous look, Clint rolls his eyes. ”You are almost always together, you call him by cute nicknames like sugarplum or honeybee, and he looks at you like you’re the best thing in the world.”
”He— what? No, he doesn’t.”
”Yes, he does,” JARVIS says.
”Nobody asked for your opinion, J,” Tony says.
”Like this morning? You came in with your hair sticking up and rambling something about repulsors and combined force and whatnot and almost walked into a wall. Your tall, blond, and handsome caught you and steered you to the table, and you drank four cups of coffee while leaning against his chest.”
”I did not!” Tony insists.
Clint just gives him a flat stare. ”Dude, I don’t remember what happened to me or why I’m here but I still see you guys are so into each other it’s giving me diabetes.”
Tony turns back to his StarkPad and starts fiddling with the schematics while not really doing anything. ”…it was three cups of coffee,” he mutters a moment later.
Clint’s already back asleep.
Now that Clint spoke his mind, Tony can’t stop wondering. Sure, he spends a lot of time with Steve but it’s just…easy. They’re friends, right? And friends like to hang out. And, yeah, Steve makes sure he eats at least semi-regularly and something more solid that the green smoothies DUM-E keeps mixing him. And when Steve’s feeling down, Tony makes sure he has something else to think about than ice, lost years, and absent friends.
And, sure, Tony likes to lean against Steve in the morning but that’s just because Steve’s chest is so firm and comfortable. And when he passes out against Steve on movie nights and then later wakes up in his own bed, it’s just because Steve is such a good friend. Right?
Right.
…or perhaps Tony is just an idiot.
It takes Tony a couple of more days to gather up his courage and when he finally decides to bite the bullet, he flips his goggles to his forehead, sets his blowtorch aside, and turns to Steve. ”Hey, Steve, can I ask you something?”
Steve sets his sketchpad aside with a smile. ”Shoot.”
Tony swings in his chair a bit, fiddling with a screwdriver. ”So…I was thinking…”
”Well, that sounds ominous.”
Tony gives him a look and Steve grins back and wow, was his smile always that beautiful?
”Tony?”
Oh, right. He was staring. ”Um, would you want to get something to eat?”
Steve raises a brow. ”Like, now? Yeah, I think there’s still some roast and potato salad in the fridge. Want me to get you a plate?”
”No, I meant like a date?”
Something relaxes in Steve and a slow, happy smile spreads on his face. ”I thought you’d never ask.”