Archive of Our Own ^beta

“So, that was fun.” Clint said, rocking restlessly on his heels as they lingered on his front porch.

“Yeah, thanks for coming with me. Thought you’d say no,” Tony replied, grinning.

The warmth in it sent a little thrill through Clint. Nothing was sexier than being caught up in Tony's happiness.
Clint reached out, hesitated, then grasped Tony's shoulder, looking directly into his eyes. He leaned forward slowly, never breaking their gaze. His mouth started stretching into a sappy, helpless smile as Tony perked up, so he had to crush their lips together to hide it.

Well, he'd say this much: it wasn't even remotely like a corny movie.

Their noses were squashed uncomfortably and Tony's glasses dug into his cheek. Clint suddenly remembered his stupid braces were a major hindrance and he kept clenching his hands because they felt really big and awkward all of a sudden -

But then Tony huffed and angled his head, curled one hand around Clint's waist and one around his arm. He bit slowly into Clint's bottom lip, drawing it into his (soft-wet-clever-hot-oh good Viking gods) mouth, lazily swiping just the tip of his tongue along it, again and again. It felt so good Clint's spine was shivering. All thought sweetly melted away into a haze behind his closed eyes - and when did that happen exactly? As he relaxed into it, he brought both hands up. His fingers buried themselves in Tony's short hair, while his thumbs stroked Tony's neck...up and down...up and down...mirroring the way Tony's thumb swiped slowly across the exposed, suddenly sensitive skin of Clint's bicep like a brand. Like he was trying to inscribe "Private property of Tony Stark" into his skin. Clint could definitely live with that.

He grinned stupidly with his lip between Tony's teeth, and Tony snorted, lightly tugging at it.

Just then, their illusion of privacy was destroyed by the shuttering of a camera, and they quickly broke apart. Only to see Clint’s little sister, Natasha, clutching a Polaroid to her chest. Even in pink Disney princess pyjamas, she looked dangerous as usual, her red hair illuminated by the house light.

“Ah, memories,” she drawled, face straight as an ironing board as she held the picture up. “Uncle Steve will love this.”

Clint’s eyes popped open wide at the ‘suggestion’.

“You wouldn’t,” he growled, taking a threatening step towards her.

Natasha immediately took off at full speed. Her bunny slippers smacked the ground loudly as she went running up the stairs, shouting “Uncle Steeeeve!” at the top of her lungs.
Clint was hot on her trail, but she was a slippery one.

“Apparently, she would,” Tony snickered. He shrugged as he closed their front door and headed for home.