For a Smile

by Era_Penn

Summary:

The first time Clint sees Tony smile - really smile, not just the almost-real one that he used for the press and other people in general - it was entirely unexpected; in part because he hadn’t realized Tony’s smile wasn’t real until that moment.

But he does know he wants to see it again.

Chapter 1

Avengers’ movie nights became a bit of a thing about the same time Thor came back to earth. Between the confusion of a soldier out of time and a misplaced demigod, the team had their hands full trying to explain everything there was to know about the time and planet. Tony suggested movies, which made sense, since most Americans spoke pop culture more than plain English. Jarvis compiled a list that began with the early films shown in Steve’s time and continuously was added to as new movies came out. Once or twice a week, on no set schedule, they watched at least one old movie and one newer movie. Tony came to as many as he could, but more than any of them the genius was, quite simply, busy. He ran a multi-billion dollar company, worked as Iron Man, worked on the other Avenger’s tech, took contracts from SHIELD, and tried to be around as much as they wanted. The man barely ate or slept.

Tony often ran late, and they started the movie without him. Clint hung out on a perch with a view of the entrance, so he could see the billionaire come in. Up in the shadows near the ceiling, he wouldn’t be surprised to discover that the others had largely forgotten his presence. They often did - not out of malice, just by virtue of his general silence and practice at disappearing, habits he had yet to break from undercover work and sniping jobs.

Sure enough, about halfway through the movie, he saw a form slip past the open door, loosening his tie, entirely unnoticed by the others - even Natasha. The so called party-boy of New York was nearly as sneaky as the two assassins were, when he wanted to be. Two minutes later, Clint’s eyes were drawn away from the movie by another flicker of motion at the door. Sock feet under raggedy old jeans trailed up to a hip resting against the door frame for support, bracketed by hands loosely tucked into pockets. An old well-worn hoody with too-long sleeves looked as soft and warm as a sleeping bunny. Clint grinned a little when he noticed hair already stuck in awkward spikes from oil and engine grease; before his eyes landed on Tony’s face. He felt his jaw drop slightly.

Tony looked over the others on the couch, closing his eyes for a moment as their chatter got a bit louder before fading again. The usually wary, ice cold and rock hard eyes of the Iron Man softened around the edges, drooped a little and seemed to exude light, instead of reflecting it in a hard steely glint. They drifted across the scene spread before them, as though trying to envelop it all in their warm chocolate depths, despite dark shadows of exhaustion threatening to consume them. A tiny smile touched his lips, slightly higher on one end, as if the face it belonged to couldn’t quite understand how to express the emotions its bearer held. As slowly as the expression had appeared, it almost made Clint jump when the marvelously real expression vanished in one sudden violent spasm, consumed by a brief glimpse of fear before settling back on Tony’s default, ‘you can’t touch me,’ grin. The billionaire was gone an eyeblink later, vanishing into the empty caverns of his enormous tower. Hopefully to sleep.

“Clint, what is it?”

He blinked, drawn back to reality as the lights came on and the credits rolled. “Nothing.” He replied thoughtfully. Natasha eyed him for a moment, and nodded; she trusted him not to lie if she needed to know. “I want popcorn. Anyone else?” he asked, climbing from his perch and heading for the kitchen to a chorus of ‘yes, please’s.

Only to draw up short in surprise when he saw Tony slumped over at the bar, one foot resting on the bottom rung of his stool and the other dangling loose, breathing light and even. The coffee machine hummed quietly; in the eight minutes it took for coffee to finish, the man had managed to fall asleep. “Hey, genius,” Clint said softly, with a light touch to Tony’s shoulder.

“Not asleep. Just resting my eyes.” Tony replied very carefully.

“Well, I think sleep is on the menu. We’re only human, can’t keep going forever.”

Tony’s eyes flickered open. “Can too.” He said, glaring with all the force of a drugged kitten.

“Sure. Come on, up you get.” Either he had finally gone insane or Tony leaned into his touch. “Help me make popcorn and then you can crash on the couch in the rec room.” Long silence. If Tony fought him on this, Clint might just drug him. He might not need to; Tony verged on collapse, at the moment.

“Yeah. Okay,” breathed the other man, looking intensely relieved.

Ten bags of popcorn later, they returned to the movie, tossing out the bags as the others greeted Tony and thanked them both - before staring stupidly as Clint dragged the exhausted engineer over to the empty couch (the Avengers tended to huddle together around the loveseat and the other couch) and held his feet in his lap. “If you don’t sleep,” the archer said. “I am sitting on you.”

“Duly noted.” Tony replied, rolling his eyes. “What are we watching?”

“Kung Fu Panda,” Steve responded on automatic, obviously still trying to digest the sight of the two most reclusive Avengers closer to cuddling on the couch than they had ever seen before.

“Awesome,” Tony managed to mumble as the movie started rolling. Clint rubbed a thumb over Tony’s ankles, motion hidden by the darkness, and felt Tony relax further as he used his other hand to munch on popcorn. The billionaire was out in minutes. Much to his surprise, Clint caught himself stifling a yawn of his own by the time Shifu began training Po, and his eyes drooping ten minutes after that. Natasha’s right there, awake, he thought. I’ll just… just a few minutes…

---

“Wow. They both managed a full night’s sleep.”

“What the hell? No, seriously - they’re sleeping? Holy shit.”

“If I’d known all it took to make you swear was sleeping, I’d’ve done so months ago.” Clint said, without missing a beat.

Not only Steve, but Bruce, Thor, and Natasha reacted to that - the boys jumping and cursing under their breath, Natasha with a sharp inhale. Clint opened his eyes to see them all gathered around, Natasha with a camera he zeroed in on instantly. Why… Blinking, he glanced down at the warmth under his hand. Where Clint had merely slid down the couch a bit and sprawled in his sleep, Tony had somehow managed to turn himself around entirely and curl up like a cat against his side, head on the archer’s lap under one of his palms.

“Huh.” Clint said, intelligence leaking from his every orifice. “Uh, Tony?” he poked the billionaire in the side, lightly. “I need coffee.”

Tony blinked up at him blearily. “No. You… pillow.” He replied, and his eyes promptly fell closed again. It took three more tries to get the genius moving, much to Natasha’s amusement - the others vanished into the kitchen and dispersed by the time the three made it there. By the third cup of coffee, Tony was back to wary and defensive by-way-of sarcasm. Clint sighed and let it go, responding in kind, until Natasha had gone, leaving the two to their own devices.

“And I can probably double your arrow limit, and, uh, sorry for falling asleep on you, mr. teddy bear.” Tony said. Clint almost missed the unnecessary apology, stuck between an entirely unrelated topic and sarcasm.

“Awesome - and seriously, dude, it isn’t a problem. I’ve been meaning to brush up on my teddy bear skills. I figure if I ever run into another rabid one, I can just hug it to death.”

“No, just no. That thing” meaning said rabid teddy bear, which was actually a thing and how was this his life, had been surprisingly difficult to destroy, “was utterly terrifying.”

Clint wondered if that applied to him as well. Tony seemed more guarded today. But maybe that only seemed to be the case, now that Clint knew there was something to look for beyond the snarky playboy mask.

Now. How to get that smile back on Tony’s face?

---

He stumbles across one way completely by accident, and he almost misses it because he’s so exhausted. He’s covered in dirt and possibly blood, and possibly raw sewage. He showers less than energetically, and it puts him in a slightly better mood. And then, wearing nothing but a pair of sweats and package in hand, he makes his way into the depths of the tower, to The Workshop.

Tony is surrounded by pale blue light, gesturing emphatically at the ceiling; a disagreement with Jarvis, then. He seems to be enjoying the argument, though Clint isn’t really coherent enough to understand it at this point.

“Holy f- Jesus Clint, don’t do that -”

“Sorry.” he said vaguely, focusing on anything except, well, Tony was damn attractive, wasn’t he. “Brought you a present.” He’d found it in a little kiosk at a mall. It was an overpriced trinket that he doubted Tony cared for, and could definitely buy himself, but it had reminded him of the billionaire, and he’d bought it on impulse, carefully wrapping it and tucking it away where it was unlikely to break even with angry mobsters chasing him down upon realizing he was undercover.

Tony’s jaw dropped and he stared at him, but he recovered quickly. “Well hand it over, Legolas!” The man unwrapped the box like he would be reprimanded if he so much as crinkled the paper. Clint frowned; wrapping paper was meant to be ripped apart and torn to pieces, tossed to the side and dealt with after the fun.

A slight gasp drew his attention back to the billionaire. Tony’s face softened into a true smile that stole Clint’s breath away. Gently lifting the clear glass box filled with sea glass in perfect, arc reactor blue, Tony’s eyes found his.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Clint shrugged, and yawned.

“Go to bed.” Tony said, amused but still so strangely gentle.

“Gone.” Clint replied, meandering away.

(When he woke up the next morning, he made his hypothesis after figuring out what had prompted Tony to make him some of the Good Coffee instead of leaving him to scrounge for Folger’s like the others, since none of them could figure out the genius's coffee machine.)

---

Clint didn’t see anything that really drew his eye the next mission, or the next. During a terrible snowstorm in the Alps, though, he had a chance to look around the lodge where Tony had put him up, stating that if he had to go to the god-forsaken edge of eternal winter, he was going in style. Clint was very grateful. The small gift shop drew his eye, and he found himself wandering and looking at the various silly trinkets.

The small stuffed rabbit, dressed in a red sweater and carrying skis, instantly shot to the top of Clint’s ‘stupidest tourist purchases ever’ list. Reaching out to touch, though, he quickly saw the appeal; never had he felt a stuffed animal so ridiculously soft. Correctly interpreting the look on his face, the shopkeeper smiled at him. “I can take off the sweater if you wish, dear.”

“Non, c’est bon. Tony’ll think it’s funny.” He said.

“Your partner?”

“Not yet,” Clint told her with a grin, refusing the discount she offered and informing her he could most definitely afford it in flawless French, much to her delight.

“Hey, brought you a present.”

Tony laughed genuinely for a full ten minutes at the silly little thing and refused to let Clint take off the sweater. The happiness lit his face like the sun, and Clint stared unabashedly.

Yeah. Not yet.

“Let’s order a pizza, watch a movie or something. You look like you haven’t been sleeping again.”

Chapter 2: Heartache & Hoodies

Notes:

From here on we have two major options: angst or fluff. Which do you want to see more of? You get a happy ending either way.

Tony, Clint knew, was a worldwide-recognized genius. Scientists from Asgard had come to Earth to speak with the man and left impressed by his depth of knowledge and easy grasp of the concepts they shared. The archer himself benefitted greatly from Tony’s massive intellect, everything from arrows to battle armor to a 3D gaming system making their way into his suite. The genius refused any sort of thanks, and seemed completely surprised when he received compliments on the fruits of his mind, but took them in stride. He was brilliant, and everyone knew it.

But Clint knew that the man was also dense as hell. He had tried to ask the man out on an official date no fewer than three times. Every single time it turned into some sort of team bonding event, despite his (AND the others, even the other Avengers had it figured out) best efforts.

So Clint decided blatantly obvious was the only way to go, and kept a look out for a gift that would make it exceedingly clear that he wanted to be able to say the genius was his, and he was the geniuses, and go on dates and hold hands and be all mushy.

He was on a mission in Utah when he found it. Apparently hoodies were a thing there, and after spending time up some of the canyons on his little search and destroy mission, he knew why. Whether it was mid July or December, canyons and the popular hikes up the mountains were cold. Not to mention all the caves, and high mountain campgrounds, and national parks. He spent a day or two in Bryce Canyon, and holy shit, down in the bottoms of the canyons it was like there was a constant chill wind blowing. After realizing he would spend most of his mission dealing with similar canyon winds and chills, he stopped off at a weird little gift shop in Salt Lake City (on his way back up to Ogden Canyon) to get a hoodie or two of his own.

Literally. It seemed he had accidentally stumbled upon one of those places that carries oodles and oodles of superhero merchandise. There were hoodies decorated with bulging green muscles, hoodies with a quiver painted across the back, hoodies with hoods shaped like Cap’s cowl, hoodies with glow-in-the-dark arc reactors, hoodies in red and gold, hoodies with red hourglasses hidden on hems… He hadn’t even known this many superhero hoodies existed.

He selected an Iron Man hoodie for himself, and then inspiration struck. He grabbed the most obnoxiously purple Hawkeye hoodie he could find, and headed for the register. After all, people wore their girlfriend’s hoodies, now Tony would be wearing his hoodie. How much more obnoxiously obvious could he get? Surely even Tony would figure out he wanted more if he came back wearing an Iron Man hoodie and offering a Hawkeye hoodie.

---

Clint made it back to the tower in mostly one piece, but covered in grimy cave dirt and bat droppings. As usual, he dropped off his stuff in his room and showered, then immediately made his way down to Tony’s workshop. Today, he was wearing a red and gold hoodie.

“Warn him I’m coming, will you Jarvis?”

“Of course, Agent Barton.” Jarvis sounded amused. “Shall I also warn him of your attire?”

“Nope, I wanna see his face.”

The workshop door slid open and Tony turned on his stool - and froze. He opened his mouth and a sort of strangled noise came out before he closed it again and swallowed, a reddish flush rising in his cheeks.

“Sorry, what was that?” Clint asked cheekily.

“What are you wearing?!”

“Your hoodie. There was this shop, it had more superhero merchandise than should ever be seen in one location at a time… Oh, I got you something.”

Tony coughed, blush gone by now, much to Clint’s disappointment. “You’re going to spoil me, Legolas.”

Oooh, a repeat nickname, he must’ve really thrown the billionaire off. “If your billions haven’t done it, I doubt that I will.” He tossed the large, flat gift box to the man, who caught it easily, and slid the top off. Tony’s jaw dropped as he stared into the box, and that blush rose on his cheeks again, though it was quickly suppressed.

Tony opened his mouth and sort of squeaked, closed it, swallowed, and tried again. Clint smirked. It wasn’t often the billionaire was speechless, and he’d managed it twice in ten minutes. “You shouldn’t have,” Tony finally managed.

“Oh, I should.” Clint smirked more.

“Right, well, I’m just going to, uh, get back to work on that thing,” Tony said, making no move to turn back to his work. Clint took the cue and stood, stretching.

“I’ll see you in a bit when I come down to drag you out for movie night, then,” he said, and made his way up the stairs. He thought that would be it.

Apparently, though, Tony really was that oblivious. It never failed to send a thrill through him when Tony wore the hoodie, though.

Notes:

Holy WOW, I was not expecting such a huge response! Thanks to all of you for your lovely comments and reviews!

One of you lovely people mentioned having a really hard time finding Ironhawk/Clintony fics that weren't leadups to shieldhusbands or stony, so. Here are some recs.

1. The Idiot Genius and his Somewhat Blind Hawk, which I wrote as well.
2. A Different Kind of Knight by jenny_wren. This is probably my favorite one.
3. a kick in the teeth is good for some, by prettybrilliantfunny.
4. Come on Over, I'll Cook, by Westgate (Harkpad)
5. Finders, Keepers, by StarlingGirl
6. Twelve Months, by everythingispoetry - This is also my favorite one.
7. Wedding Rings, by wonker8
8. Improbably Romantic, by sendal
9. Clint & Tony Tell the Truth, by KaliTracer
10. No Heart for Me Like Yours, by FannyT - Also my favorite one.
11. Hey, Clint, by resonae
12. Hot Mess, by zhangnairong
13. What Lies Beneath, by Silver_Moon_Lit_Forest
14. Dodgy Chinese, by longdarkteatime - This is my other favorite.
15. Tokens, by harcourt

Chapter 3

Tony is, in fact, a genius, no matter what his friends may say. He’s a little slow when it comes to relationships sometimes, sure, but he does catch on eventually. It is inevitable he notices that Clint, for some reason, spends a lot of his time in the workshop, and the vents above the workshop, and in Tony’s general vicinity whenever he goes out. Also, the archer keeps buying him little trinkets and ridiculous stuffed rabbits and making him laugh. Which definitely does NOT make him feel all warm and fuzzy, he’s Tony Stark, he doesn’t care about material gifts. Just because people didn’t give them to him very often, it didn’t mean he treasured them.

Okay, so he did. He was Iron Man, he was allowed to have minor lapses into sap.

And then there’s this thing Clint seems to have about him sleeping… “Tony, you need to sleep.” Steve says again, drawing his attention away from his dawning revelation. Apparently, Clint has recruited the others to the ‘make Tony get semi-reasonable amounts of sleep’ club.

“Don’t wanna.” He pouts.

“Tony, what will Clint say if he gets back tomorrow and you haven’t slept?”

And then he folds like wet tissue paper. Him! Tony Stark! Folds! Like wet tissue paper!

He’s so head-over-heels for the archer it’s sad. He tries to ignore it, mostly, since there’s no way in hell Clint would ever return his feelings. Clint is just so good, and Tony’s, well...not. Sure, when it comes to mechanics and engineering he’s the best, but anything else at all and people had better start looking for someone else, because Tony isn’t actually good for much else. They are friends, and they are teammates, and that is it. Tony has too few of those to risk losing it, and he can be content with being the best friend.

Not to mention his track record with relationships. Just look at Pepper; she knew exactly what she was getting into and he still managed to screw it up. If that happened with Clint, it wouldn’t just be the relationship, either. It would affect the entire team, probably ruin the closest thing he’s ever had to a family, and then he would be completely alone again. So he ignored the non-existent hints Clint dropped (just wishful thinking, obviously) and treated the man like his best bro, because that was all he was ever going to get so he had better get used to it. Yeah, he totally would’ve made sure his best bro got all the best coffee, and robots, and an enclosed air duct system to hide in, that wasn’t special treatment at all, no, really.

But then, when Clint got in the next day, he walked in wearing a goddamn iron man hoodie. He walked in wearing Tony, essentially, with a wicked smirk on his lips. Oh, God, Clint knew. He knew Tony liked him. Shit, shit, shit. He figured this was actually a surprisingly gentle joke compared to what he might have expected if he had ever considered the possibility of Clint finding out, but crap, it took every last ounce of his willpower to stop himself from making out with the other man then and there.

And then Clint handed him his present (when had he started expecting Clint to bring him stuff??) and Tony nearly died at the sight of a bright purple Hawkeye hoodie. What the hell? Did Clint actually like him? Instantly he berated himself. No, Tony, don’t go there, don’t hope, it’ll ruin everything, just like you always ruin everything…

He barely registered Clint leaving the lab, carefully convincing himself that he did not deserve the care Clint was already giving him, let alone anything more.

(The only reason he wore the hoodie is because it was really soft, he told Jarvis. The AI laughed at him. Traitor.)

Chapter 4

Okay, so Clint Barton liked him back. Tony could admit that to himself. That was sort of the problem.

Tony did not deserve the archer, and he was just going to ruin everything if he tried to take this farther. He liked what they had now. He did. He might want more, but for Clint’s sake he wouldn’t go there. The shine would wear off and Clint Barton would move on and find someone who could make him happy.

Tony wasn’t very good at happy.

---

Clint was absolutely miserable. He had tried everything. Literally, everything. He even acted on Thor’s advice and brought back the severed head of a Doombot as a gift that one time! Tony wore the Hawkeye hoodie (usually when he didn’t think anyone else would notice), and he kept several of Clint’s presents in the shop, which was super awesome, but he didn’t respond! He just laughed, like, thanks dude, I owe you one, and moved on to the next project!

Sharp, stiletto tapping reached his ears, and Clint froze. The tapping stopped behind him. He turned, slowly, with his hands up.

Pepper Potts stood there, arms crossed, and her foot started tapping again.

And then, from behind him, a very familiar voice said, “идиот.”

Clint nearly jumped out of his skin. “What have I done? I swear, I can fix it, just please don’t kill me!”

The two most powerful women in the world glared at him, and for a moment Clint wondered if they dyed their hair with the blood of their enemies. Probably not. Their enemies weren’t worthy of adorning their skulls.

“We’re going out for coffee.”

Clint blinked at Pepper. “Sorry, what?”

“Coffee, Barton. NOW.”

Clint Barton shot to his feet, and nodded. “Coffee, yeah, coffee’s great, I love coffee -”

The closing elevator doors cut off the sound of his whimpers, leaving a bemused Bruce behind. “...Rest in peace,” he said, and continued on his way to get his tea.

---

Clint Barton sipped his caramel macchiato with Irish cream like his life depended on it.

Across from him, Natasha Romanov and Pepper Potts nonchalantly did not sip their coffee.

“You’re in love with Tony.”

Thankfully she’d waited for him to swallow. “Uh. Yes. Probably. I haven’t exactly been subtle about that.”

Pepper watched him over the top of her cup as she finally raised the cup to her lips. “Tony’s in love with you, too.”

Clint pouted. “Then why doesn’t he do something? I don’t want to push too hard, then I’m just a jackass.”

Pepper sighed. Natasha remained silent. “I have made an executive decision. Jarvis is not obligated to tell Tony of anything I may choose to do outside the tower, so this is the safest this conversation can get.”

“I’m not going to like this.”

“You’re not going to like this,” Natasha agreed.

Pepper started talking. About Howard. About Obadiah. About some dick named Tiberius, and a bitch named Sunset Bain. About how she thought there might have been abuse more than the neglect, hidden deep. About how Tony had never received unconditional love in his life except from herself and Rhodey, and they hadn’t met him until he was almost eighteen. About how the two of them had screwed up, and Tony loved them anyway, just because he had never known any different. About Tony, beneath the masks Clint had been working so hard to break. About the genius’ lack of self-worth in anything except intelligence.

And Clint listened. And tried very, very hard not to let his inner assassin hunt these people down and kill them very slowly and painfully.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” Pepper said, “you need to understand. He’s never going to make a move. He is so used to people turning on him, hating him when he thought they loved him, that he won’t go there. He’ll settle for friendship, because in his experience, at least close friendships are somewhat salvageable, and he trusts you enough to know you wouldn’t stab him in the back.”

“You’re going to have to be dead blunt, Clint,” Natasha interjected, finally speaking for the first time since they arrived, “and even that might not be enough at first.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing I’m a stubborn bastard.”

He thought he detected a gleam of approval in both women's eyes.

Chapter 5

“Want to go out for dinner?”

“Sure. Jarvis, ask -”

“Nope. The others are busy. Just you’n me, hotshot. And you already said yes, no takebacks. We’re going to that burger joint on sixth, the super discreet one.”

Tony gaped at the ease with which Clint easily circumnavigated his plans. This was going to make it so much harder to keep his hands (lips, eyes, heart) off of the archer. “Uh, okay.”

Clint nodded, like he’d just achieved some grand master plan. “Good. Meet you in the garage in an hour. I’ll drive.”

“Uh. Works for me.” Tony managed to dredge up a shiny grin from the depths of the shock. It even had a touch of realness to it, because despite the difficulty he was having with his heart fluttering all weird, he did like spending time with Clint.

Clint nodded again and left. Tony stood up from his seat and stretched. Noticing the oil and grease sticking to his skin through his clothes, he winced. “Jarvis, start a shower for me.”

“Of course, sir.”

Tony shut down his current project files and left the lab, careful to lock it down behind him. It wouldn’t be any good if someone managed to break in and take anything while they were gone. Making his way up the stairs to his room, he stepped into the shower (at the perfect temperature, bless Jarvis) and quickly got rid of the dirt and grease. Climbing out from under the hot spray, he wrapped a towel around his waist and another through his hair as he wandered over to his closet.

And froze. Shit. Shit, it wasn’t like this was a date, it shouldn’t matter what he wears at all. Tony had a mild panic attack.

“Sir, if I might make a recommendation.”

Thank God for Jarvis. “Please.”

“I would suggest a favorite band shirt under a jacket and nice pair of dark jeans.”

Tony found his favorite Black Sabbath tee and a comfortable gray blazer. He slipped into a pair of navy jeans and his favorite shoes, which were all black.

“Don’t like it,” he mumbled.

“Perhaps a plain shirt instead, sir?”

Picking out a plain red shirt, Tony frowned and discarded it. Green was a no as well. Finally, with Jarvis pestering and only a half-hour left to get ready, he settled on a plain white shirt with a bright purple logo for some band scrawled on it.

“You look dashing, sir.”

“Not a date, Jarvis.”

There was a pause, and Tony could practically see Jarvis roll his eyes. “Right! Moving on.” Tony made his way back to the bathroom, making liberal use of hair gel to give his hair his customary ‘looks damn good without trying’ style. Taking a deep breath, he spent the last ten minutes before he was supposed to meet Clint pacing, and then dithered and had a mild panic attack again at the last minute, making himself ten minutes late.

He rounded the corner to the garage at a nonchalant pace, and stopped short.

---

Clint wasted no time in getting ready, putting on the clothes he had picked earlier in the day and running fingers through his hair. He wore his dog tags, because why not, and rolled his sleeves up above his elbows.

Then he went down to admire Tony’s cars and pick one to drive. He eventually settled on something a little less conspicuous than most of the vehicles - a black and silver bike with matching helmets. He was lost in thought leaning against it when Tony came down and noticed the billionaire only when he made a slight choked sound.

He looked up and his jaw dropped just a tiny bit, because damn it he wasn’t expecting Tony to be wearing his colors. The billionaire looked like a supermodel, hair a mess that Clint just wanted to mess up more and jeans showing off that ass. Clint couldn’t help but feel a little smug at the look on Tony’s face when he saw the archer, whose arms were crossed over his chest, showing off highly trained muscles.

“You look good,” Clint said, holding out a helmet.

“Yeah - uh, I mean - you too,” Tony managed to get out, and Clint smiled, wide and soft, as the billionaire took the helmet, looking at it with a faint sort of despair, and making that odd little choking noise again when Clint tossed him a leather jacket and pulled one on himself.

He could really learn to like that sound. “Ready?”

Tony nodded, pulling on the helmet, and climbed on the bike after Clint. His hands hovered uncertainly, but he yelped and flung his arms around Clint’s waist when the bike started moving. Clint maybe should have thought this through a little more, because having Tony pressed up against his back for the rest of the night was not going to do good things for his sanity.

Notes:

The moment you've all been waiting for....
NOT.

Sorry guys, this felt like a good spot to stop. The next chapter will be great fun, though. :)

Chapter 6

Clint waited until Tony had settled in a bit, munching on his food and rambling more like he usually did instead of the nervous hesitance the evening had started with, and then he dropped the bomb.

“So you know I’ve been trying to get you to date me for months now.”

“Uh-huh, and Jarvis...wait,” Tony spluttered, “What?”

“Nuh-uh, no way you didn’t notice after the hoodie thing.”

Tony promptly choked on his fries, which he had started stuffing into his mouth at a rapid rate, likely to try and stop himself from saying anything stupid. Coughing, he shifted uncomfortably and said, “I may… have suspected…”

Clint’s heart dropped. Tony had noticed. “So… why not respond?”

Tony fidgeted. “Cuz I don’t wanna screw up,” he said, staring at his food.

“Relationships, and their screw-ups, take two people, Tony.”

“Yeah, I’m really bad at them.”

Clint snorted. “And you think I’m not?”

Suddenly Tony froze. “Are we on a date?”

“Yes, yes we are. Too late to get out of it now,” Clint said cheerfully.

“Pepper,” Tony hissed.

“You’re quick on the uptake.”

“Yeah, well.”

“We’ll take it slow. Well, slow for us. Let’s not move at Cap pace, that would be glacial.”

“Punny,” Tony said, eyeing the exits. Clint raised an eyebrow and wiggled the motorcycle keys.

“Stop trying to stop a good thing, Tony.”

“What if it’s not a good thing.”

“Then we go back to being buds, like you and Pepper did.”

Tony took a massive bite of his burger, chewed slowly, and swallowed. Clint allowed him the time to think.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Clint said, “In that case, want to go catch a movie? I’ll get you one of those cheesy souvenir mugs that stupid tourists like to buy.”

Tony smiled at him, wide and heart-melting and real.

END

Please look forward to additional one-shot chapters, separate from the main timeline.

Notes:

I think I might end this here. This is maybe the end. I don't want this fic to end ever, because it's fun and fluffy and not at all like the other stuff I've written, which is mostly angst, but this feels like a good spot... your thoughts?

Chapter 7: Extended Author's Note

I would like to thank everyone for their wonderful comments last chapter - there are too many of you for me to answer you all! :)

All of you (really, ALL of you, I didn't realize so many people liked "For a Smile" so much!) beg so prettily, so I have decided that, although the main story/timeline of "For a Smile" is over, I will not end the fic. From this point forward, I'll update as I feel like it with drabbles, snapshots, and minifics set in the "For a Smile" 'verse (Thanks for the suggestion, icis182 & estheralex16). Although I considered turning this fic into the series, unless I get some serious inspiration for another fic, everything will remain within this one work. Chapters will from this point forward be given short names to identify them separately from the original story/timeline.

Part of the reason for this is because I do have other wip Clintony fics! If anyone wants more Clint/Tony specifically, I suggest you check out my other works, as there are a few other Clintony ones. Also, keep an eye out for the next update of "When the Past Comes Calling" as it's sure to be an exciting one.

You are welcome to drop ideas/prompts for this 'verse into comments. I don't do anything Explicit, and I won't guarantee that I'll fill said prompts, but go for it. If you do so, please start your fic with "PROMPT:" so that I can easily identify it amidst my inbox messages.

Thank you all for your support!

~~Era Penn~~

Chapter 8: Prompt; Shovel Talk

Summary:

Nu_toamna said: what if Fury and Coulson stop by to give them BOTH the shovel talk at like the same time? Just walk in the tower one day and go "If either of you idiots hurts the other, there will be hell to pay!"

Eventually, the Avengers realized that Coulson and Fury had to be told. They doubted that Clint and Tony would keep the new relationship subtle, and it was in everyone’s best interests that the two leaders of SHIELD know before the press, so they could handle the inevitable fallout when Clint ended up kissing Tony on national television just because the billionaire smiled for some reason.

They draw straws. The lucky winner is Natasha, and none of them are sure why she drew the short straw. She could easily have avoided it if she chose, as they are all aware. When they ask, she gives them a smug smile, and walks away.

---

Agent Phillip J. Coulson is sitting as his desk, staring with relief at a massive pile of completed paperwork, when Natasha Romanov walks in smiling like the cat that got the cream.

“I just finished the paperwork from the last incident,” he says managing to turn the whine into something more like a reprimand.

Natasha grins. “Sorry, but you’re about to have some more.”

“What did they do this time?”

“They started dating.”

Coulson spit out his coffee. “Excuse me?”

“Clint and Tony. They started dating.”

Coulson stared at her, comprehension slowly dawning, along with a growing migraine. “I’m never going to take a vacation again.”

“You were on sick leave.”

“Never happening again. Ever.”

Natasha smirks. “I trust you’ll inform Fury? If you’ll excuse me, I have matters to attend to.”

Coulson groans, and prints off the required paperwork. It would go through Fury, which definitely counted as telling.

---

“COULSON, WHAT IS THIS SHIT?” Fury screamed, storming into Coulson’s office. The agents passing outside didn’t so much as glance up from their tablets. Whatever it was, they didn’t want to know. It involved Coulson, which meant Avengers, which meant above their clearance, anyway.

“I believe that should be obvious, sir.”

“Why didn’t you stop this?”

“I was on enforced leave, sir.”

“Don’t you ‘sir’ me. This is a nightmare.”

---

Clint and Tony were on the couch exchanging lazy kisses when Fury and Coulson came to the tower.

“You two,” Fury says, “are a headache I wish I had never encountered.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” Tony said. Clint coughed behind him, all too obviously covering a snort.

Fury glared as Coulson said pleasantly, “If either of you fuck this up, you will not be happy about it. Understood?”

Tony and Clint nodded, both looking stunned.

“By not happy,” Fury growled, “I mean the kind of unhappy junior agents who don’t refill the coffee maker experience.”

Clint paled, and Tony looked curious, but the archer stepped on his foot before he could ask.

Coulson nodded, and the two men left.

“...Did we just get the shovel talk from the director of SHIELD and Fury?” Tony asked, after a long, long pause.

“I need a drink.”

Chapter 9: Prompt; Peacefully

Summary:

In the end, Clint brings Tony one last gift.

Notes:

WARNING: major character death. It's a rather happy version, if that helps?

Clint’s bones creak as he settles onto the red and gold bench. His lips are slightly downturned, and he is wearing black. He gently tosses the bouquet of red roses, held together with a golden ribbon, to land lightly before the gravestone.

“Hey, Tony,” he says, and falls silent. They lived a long, happy life; astonishingly long, considering their idea of fun. Katie-Kate carried Clint’s bow, these days, and Harley Keener is starting to look for someone to take the Iron Man suit after he’s gone; there have been enough close shaves to make him worried. Bruce no longer acts as the Hulk, but he’s led the medical research division of Stark Interdimensional. Steve, Thor, and Natasha are still going strong - damn serum.

“I brought you a present,” Clint says, smiling and gesturing to the roses. “It’s not much… I don’t travel so much these days. Who’d have thought I’d live long enough for aching joints, huh?”

He can almost hear an echo of Tony’s laugh, the last sound he heard from his husband before they fell asleep together and only one of them woke up. Tony’s heart gave out in his sleep three years ago - not that surprising, after all the world put it through.

“Jarvis made himself a kid. Natasha can’t decide whether to be ecstatic or terrified. He named the kid Antonio, but everyone just calls him Tony. Bet you don’t believe me, but Steve almost cries every time he hears it.”

Clint rubbed his arms, a little cold even under his sweater, and sticks out his tongue as snowflakes start to fall. Failing, he grins and plays with the two rings on a chain around his neck instead.

“Those two brats Bruce and Tash adopted are doing swell. Natalia takes after her daddy, big, green, and incredibly intelligent. Anthony Rhodes, though - now that kid scares me. He’s even better at fighting than his mother. It’s astonishing the number of kids named for you, actually - Thor’s got one, and Rhode’s daughter’s middle name is Stark. She never blamed you, you know. I know you hated yourself when Rhodey took that bullet for you, but little Eleanor loved you just like her daddy did.”

Clint was quiet, staring at the sky.

“The little Potts, now… oh, that one’s a firecracker. She keeps Harley in line just like her momma did you, and she’s expecting a child soon as well. You’ll be a grand-uncle, soon. Harley’s dating a pretty little thing from legal, and it’s going well. Also, we found a Peter Parker clone a few weeks back, barely six years old. Parker and Wilson are overjoyed. That kid’s going to have one hell of a childhood.”

The snow started falling harder.

“I know it’s been too long, and this visit too short, but I’m old and it’s time to go… oh, one last thing,” Clint said, beaming. He stood from the bench, and moved forward. Pressing a kiss to the carved letters on the stone, he whispered, “Merry Christmas, Tony,” and stood.

“I’ll see you soon,” he called over his shoulder, heading back to the waiting car, where Happy Jr. waited, as loyal as his parents had been.

The next morning, Natasha found Clint Barton, breathless in the bed the two men had shared their entire lives. She gently ran her fingers down his cheek, and let a few small tears fall. “Don’t forget to bring a present,” she whispered, tucking the necklace with two rings around the cold neck. “Jarvis - or Antonio - call the Avengers.”

“Of course, Mrs. Banner,” Jarvis said, voice soft.

“Once an Avenger, always an Avenger, Barton-Stark,” Natasha said, standing tall. “You’ll get the biggest send off since Tony Stark.”

Notes:

Don't worry, not ending the drabbles quite yet. I just... my best friend tried to kill herself on Monday, and I needed a happy ending. There are a lot of other possible endings to the Smile 'verse, though.

 

EDIT: You guys are amazing! I can now make rent :D Don't forget to email me your requests!

Chapter 10: Prompt; Overboard

Summary:

Ourlullaby said: THE FEELS!!! You hit me straight below belt on this one! I- askdghfhdl.... Era_Penn you are brilliant and addicting writer but this still hurts so (good?bad?) - much to read. Please make next a fluffy one. Or I'll come coddle you to submission. ;)

Clint’s alive. He’s not even in a coma, just a medically induced one. And Tony, ah, may have gone… a little overboard.

It started with the giant stuffed bear. It was as big as Clint, and it was white and fluffy and just begging to be used as a get-well soon gift. And if one was going to buy a giant stuffed bear as a get-well soon gift, then one must also buy a set of get-well soon balloons. Which inevitable led to get-well soon flowers - and Tony figured four different bouquets of roses and carnations was definitely not overkill for someone as awesome as the archer. Then Tony realized that the giant bear wouldn’t fit on the bed with Clint, so he got a normal sized one. Next he realized that carnations were symbolic of death, so he had to buy four more bouquets of orchids to balance it out. By then the balloons had started deflating, so Tony bought another set, and a box of chocolates on his way out of the store. Thinking about it, he figured Clint would be bored, so he got some books and a Playstation to set up on the hospital TV.

Basically, Clint’s room looked like it had been thrown up on by someone with an odd fetish for Valentine’s day.

“Wow, okay… just… wow.”

“Pepper, that’s not helping.”

“Tony, this is a whole new level of overboard. Is that - is that a collection of Hawkeye merchandise hiding behind the giant bear?”

Oh, right. Tony had forgotten about that.

“Tony. Clint’s going to be fine. He’s only in a medically induced coma so he can’t run off and rip his stitches.”

Tony ignored this bit of logic.

“He’s going to wake up today and think he’s hallucinating or drowning in evil, sentient Valentine’s Day merchandise.”

“Only fair, he missed our reservations.”

Pepper groaned. “I’ll be in the hall, laughing my ass off with Natasha.”

Tony turned up his nose. Clearly she did not understand the epicness of going overboard Tony Stark Style™. As she opened and closed the door, he could hear the almost desperate laughter of Natasha, Bruce, and Rhodey outside, and the undignified snorts that showed Steve was trying really, really hard to be supportive about something he found utterly ridiculous.

Whatever.

A muffled groan drew his attention to the bed, which was just about the only surface in the room clear of presents. Excluding the small bear. Clint’s sharp blue eyes blinked open, widened. He closed them again, rubbed them, and opened them back up, looking around in confused wariness. Eventually, his eyes found Tony’s frozen figure by the door.

“Tony! What are you doing, we need to get out of here before they start mobilizing -”

Tony blinked. “Ah, so… you noticed the, um.”

“How could I not notice? This is an evil scheme just waiting to happen. That or you went way, way, way, way, way, way -”

“Okay, I get it, I went overboard, which is why Natasha is in the hall full-on belly laughing, which is terrifying -”

“Tony -”

“But I was worried, okay, it’s been like a week -”

“Tony -”

“And you really need to stop jumping off of tall buildings, because -”

“TONY!”

Tony shut up, refusing to look at the bed.

Clint sighed. “Come here.”

Tony shuffled through all the presents to stand next to the bed. Clint reached up weakly with his good arm, grabbed Tony by his shirt front, and pulled him down for a kiss.

Tony’s mind, full of worry and chaos, stilled.

“Tony, I’m okay,” Clint breathed over his lips.

Tony felt tension seep out of his corners and swayed on his feet, suddenly noticing how exhausted he was. “Oh. Okay.”

Clint smiled at him. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the cheesy giant bear.”

Tony didn’t respond, shoving the bear off of its chair next to Clint and sinking into it as his knees absolutely did not wobble in relief. He grabbed Clint’s hand on the coverlet, wondering when he got close enough for the archer to thread his fingers through Tony’s hair.

“Take a breather, genius.”

Tony’s eyes slipped shut.

---

Clint glared at the quietly giggling Avengers lined up at the foot of his bed. “Do not touch my bear,” he said in a voice usually reserved for supervillains. Bruce froze and pulled his hand back. “Anyone want to explain why my boyfriend looks like he hasn’t slept in a week?”

Steve sighed. “We tried to get him to go to bed. And eat. But, well. He did that thing where he just works in bed to convince everyone he’s well-rested even when everyone knows he isn’t.”

“Idiot,” Clint mumbled at the sleeping genius next to him. “Do not touch my flowers.” Natasha withdrew her hand quickly.

“What do you want us to do with all… this?” Pepper asked, gesturing at the mass of presents.

“Leave it alone, it’s mine,” Clint said. “Oh, but you can take the deflated balloons.”

There was no way he would ever make Tony think Clint didn’t want his gifts. Besides, if one had a billionaire boyfriend, it was important to look at all the presents he got you and gloat. Clint was pretty sure the old guy across the hall was jealous. And a little girl from the cancer ward kept sneaking up to snuggle his bear and stare at Tony with wide eyes - she was an Iron Man fan.

“Well, don’t blame us if you die from evil teddy bears,” Rhodey said. He gave a mocking salute and led the way out the door. Clint grinned at the billionaire on his bed and settled in to take another nap.

Notes:

Flattery will get you all the fluff. Though this may be more on the edge of crack, but whatevs. Hope you like it! :)