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Natasha cautiously removed herself from Tony’s embrace in hopes of not waking the genius up since it was early and Tony needed all the sleep he could get.
Tony’s whispered, “Rogers better consider himself a lucky man to have such a dedicated work out partner,” that caused the redhead to swear under her breath.
Tony softly chuckled. “I believe that’s anatomically impossible.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Natasha countered.
“It’s okay,” he said as he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I should head up to my floor so that certain people don’t start rumors about you and me being together.”
“Stay,” she quietly ordered. “You are still short on sleep and I don’t care what other people think about me.”
“You say that now.”
“Tony,” she sighed. “Of the two of us, which one has the worst reputation?’
Tony nibbled on his bottom lip as he carefully considered Natasha’s question and sighed when he realized that a black widow trumped an asshole everytime. “Good point. I’ll stay since you asked so nicely.”
Natasha swatted him with her pillow.
“Hey,” he grumbled as he caught the pillow and held onto it. “So not called for.”
“Lay back down and go back to sleep,” she told him as she stood up and headed toward the bathroom. “I’ll be back before you know it and I’ll make you French toast for breakfast.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Tony agreed sliding back down and curling around her discarded pillow.
Natasha gave her head a tiny shake in amusement before entering the bathroom to take care of her morning ablutions.
When she returned to the bedroom, Tony was softly snoring and looking like one of Pan’s Lost Boys. She found the sight endearing and gave into the desire to brush a soft kiss against his temple before she headed out to meet Steve for their morning run.
*&*
Clint silently slipped into Natasha’s bedroom intent on getting some snuggle time with his best friend since his last mission had gone tits up in a dramatic way. Natasha had a way about her that helped Clint get his head screwed back on straight and he desperately needed that now.
He paused in his journey when he saw dark curls peeking out from under the comforter. Natasha rarely ever dyed her hair so he knew those curls belonged to someone else, and for the first time in a long time he was annoyed that Natasha had a sex life outside of work.
He was contemplating rousing Natasha’s new partner when one of her knives went flashing past his face to bury itself in the door frame. “What the fuck?!" he exclaimed.
Tony levered himself upright to lean against the headboard and glared at Clint. “I would ask you the same thing, Barton,” he muttered very much awake and not happy about it.
“Why are you in Tasha’s bed?”
“I was sleeping until somebody decided to come in and scare me awake.”
“And, how do you know how to throw a knife?”
“Merchant of Death,” Tony softly chuckled. “I didn’t just play with bombs and bullets, you know.”
“That’s kinda scary,” Clint grumbled as he walked over to the door and removed the knife. He handed Tony the knife and he returned it to the sheath Natasha had secured to the headboard.
“Why don’t we take this conversation someplace a little less awkward,” Tony suggested as he threw the comforter aside and stood up.
“Those are my sweats,” Clint pointed out still at a loss for words.
“If it’s any consolation, they are comfortable.”
Clint shook his head and left the bedroom.
Tony followed him wondering what he could say that would keep Clint from killing him before Natasha got back from her morning run.
*&*
Natasha returned from her morning run just as Tony set a cup of hot chocolate loaded down with marshmallows and whipped cream in front of Clint.
“Thanks, Tony.”
“You’re welcome, Katniss,” Tony said joining Clint at the kitchen table with a cup of hot chocolate of his own.
“Clint?” Natasha softly inquired while checking him over for hidden injuries since she knew he had just returned from a difficult mission.
“We’re good, Tasha,” Clint answered Natasha’s unasked questions reaching out to catch her hand and give it a gentle squeeze before diving into his drink.
“Really?”
“Yes,” Tony answered for the archer. He had quietly observed Natasha checking Clint over and he had to fight the smile that his lips twisted into at the sight of such touching concern. “He may have scared me and I may have thrown a knife at him, but we’re good.”
“You threw a knife at Clint?”
“Yes, and while that knife you have is good, I can do better,” Tony said between sips of hot chocolate.
Natasha was torn between wanting to smack Clint for scaring Tony and Tony for being so glib about handling such a deadly assassin in the first place.
Tony saw the consternation in Natasha’s blue eyes and decided to ease it. He stood up and brushed a kiss against her cheek. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up while I fix us breakfast?”
“I was planning on making you French toast,” Natasha said in token protest.
“I’ll take a rain check,” Tony said with a soft smile.
“Alright,” Natasha agreed and slipped quietly from the room.
“For a second there I thought you were going to go tell her to get dolled up,” Clint remarked pushing his empty cup aside.
“I know what happened to the last man who had the balls to say that,” Tony countered. He had seen her take down Happy without breaking a sweat, so he knew there were certain topics that shouldn't be broached, especially if he wanted to continue living a fully intact male. He picked up their cups and added them to the cups from the night before.
“Yeah, it wasn’t a pretty sight,” Clint agreed not bothering to hide the wince that particular memory caused.
“Since I like where my balls are, I’ll refrain from being that fucking stupid,” Tony quipped ignoring Clint’s wince.
“Why the sudden change in behavior?”
“I’m tired of being alone at the end of the day,” Tony briefly explained.
Clint nodded. He, too, well understood that need to be part of something bigger than him and the Avengers were that for him. “Do I need to give you the shovel talk?”
“No,” Tony softly answered. “I would never do anything to hurt Tasha. She’s been hurt enough in her life.”
*&*
Natasha felt her heart squeeze tight in her chest at Tony’s soft declaration. He was right. She had been hurt enough in her life, and for the first time in a very long time she wanted what Tony was unselfishly offering.
“So what’s for breakfast?” she asked as she entered the kitchen dressed for a busy day as Pepper Potts’ personal assistant.
“Omelets,” Tony suggested with a quirk of his lips knowing the reaction he would get for it.
“Oh, hell no!” Clint grumbled. “Your attempt at making an omelet for Pepper has made the rounds of SHIELD as a precautionary tale.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve had practice since then.”
“No,” Natasha said putting an end to the potential snark war before it was started. “I say we go see what Bruce is making for breakfast.”
“He said something about chocolate chip pancakes at dinner last night,” Clint said with a sparkle of joy in his eyes. It was a well known fact that Clint was obsessed with chocolate.
“That actually sounds good,” Tony remarked just as his stomach rumbled. “Let me get changed.”
Clint watched Tony leave the kitchen before he asked Natasha, “Are you sure about this thing with Tony?”
“No,” she truthfully answered. “But, I want the chance to try.”
“He hurts you...”
“I know,” Natasha said wrapping her hand around Clint’s neck and pulling him forward to rest her forehead against his. “You get first crack at making him see the error of his ways.”
Clint softly chuckled and pulled away from her, but still stayed in her embrace. “I love the way you so gently phrase things.”
“Enough about me,” Natasha said changing the subject. “How are you?”
“I’m better now.”
“Oh?”
“Who knew Tony Stark could be a good sounding board.”
“He’s more than his brash exterior.”
“Yeah, he is,” Clint agreed.
*&*
Hearing Natasha say that he was more than his brash exterior made Tony’s damaged heart clutch in his chest and a warm feeling pooled itself in the pit of his stomach.
It reminded him that he was no good at making relationships work, but for the first time in his life he really wanted to make one work.
He didn’t know what that said about him, but he didn’t care.
He entered the kitchen with his tux jacket draped over his arm. “Ready whenever you are,” he announced causing the assassins to spring apart in surprise.
“You need to stop surprising me, Stark,” Clint grumbled before heading off toward the elevator.
Tony huffed out a wry chuckle.
“I know you can hold your own with Clint, but just be careful,” Natasha said taking hold of his hand and leading him toward Clint and the waiting elevator.
“I promise,” Tony said as he followed Natasha into the elevator and watched Jarvis close the door and whisk them up toward the communal kitchen. “I’m learning how to not upset the status quo.”
“We have a status quo?” Clint quipped as he calmly regarded them from across the elevator car.
“We do,” Natasha firmly replied.
Clint nodded. “Got it,” he said. He wouldn’t do or say anything that would unintentionally out the pair until they were ready to reveal their relationship themselves.
Tony smirked. He let go of Natasha’s hand and took a step away from her, so that when the elevator doors opened on the communal level it looked like he had been collected from his lab after spending the night on the ratty sofa he had in there for when he crashed during epic engineering binges.
“Good morning,” Bruce called from the kitchen. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”
“Bruce, you are awesome!” Clint crowed before hurrying into the kitchen to help Bruce put the finishing touches on breakfast and set the table.
“Did he just...”
“Shut up, Tony,” Natasha softly ordered.
“Right,” Tony said and smirked when she pulled him into their first official kiss.