Work Header

Logic and Sleep Deprivation Are Not Friends

Work Text:

So in Clint’s defense, he was seriously sleep deprived and Tony had already been kidnapped once that month, so it was entirely plausible that he’d been taken again, okay? He hadn’t meant to start a panic and looking back he realizes he could have done a lot differently, hindsight being twenty twenty and all that, but there’s nothing he can do about it now, what’s done is done, okay Natasha? Geez.

What happened wasn’t that unusual, at least for the Avengers Tower. Clint had gotten back from a mission dead on his feet from exhaustion but it was tradition for Natasha and Clint to check on the others when they got back from their missions. No matter how late it was, or how tired or hungry they were, they always stopped in each of the other’s bedrooms, just to peer inside and make sure they were sleeping soundly. If anyone was awake, they’d give them a kiss on the cheek and send them to bed or make them make food, depending on the time of day.

So far, Clint had checked on Thor and Jane, snuggled sweetly in bed, Jane snoring softly and Thor snoring thunderously and Bruce, who was all curled up near his headboard, forehead to his knees.

He made his stop in Tony’s room and looked around in the dark.

It was difficult to discern in the dark, but Clint was pretty sure that the lump of covers did not contain Tony.

“Huh,” Clint said and flicked on the light.

He went over to the bed and lifted the covers. Yep. No Tony.

“Okay,” he said, eyelids heavy. “No big deal. I’ll just go to his workshop and get his butt to bed.”

Again, in Clint’s defense, he was really sleep deprived, normally his monologue was internal, not external.

He wandered down to the labs and entered his code. The doors slid open and he looked inside.

It was dark.

“Tony?” he called. “Tony?”

No answer.

“Seriously dude, it’s time for bed.” he called again. “I’m tired and I do not want to have to traipse through your dark workshop trying to find you passed out somewhere.”

No answer.

Something in Clint’s mind started buzzing softly, like what that Spiderkid had told him about, his spider-sense or whatever. Clint just knew something was wrong.

Then he remembered how Tony had just been kidnapped so recently and the buzzing turned into a clanging alarm.

“Oh god,” he raced to the elevator. He was awake now, heart pounding and eyes wide. “Oh god, oh god, oh god.”

He burst out of the elevator and ran to his and Natasha’s room.

“Tasha, Tasha, Tasha!” he yelled, skidding into their room. “Tony’s missing!”

She was up in a flash, knife from the bedside table at the ready. “What are you talking about?”

“Tony’s missing, he’s not in his room or his workshop,” Clint panted. “We gotta get him.”

“Let’s go,” Natasha pushed him out the door and they ran down the halls to the other’s room.

Clint went to Bruce’s and went over to the bed. His tactic for waking Bruce was a bit gentler than waking Natasha; he didn’t want an unwelcome appearance of the big guy.

“Bruce, c’mon get up, Tony’s missing.”

“Wha...” Bruce said, slowly uncurling.

“C’mon,” Clint said. “Tony’s missing.”

Bruce hurried out of bed and followed Clint to where Natasha was dragging Thor away from Jane in bed.

“Steve, we gotta get Steve,” Clint said.

He ran down the hall and skidded to a stop in front of Steve’s door. He jiggled the door handle, but it was locked.

“Steve!” he yelled. “Wake up!”

He pounded his fist against the wood, still yelling for Steve to wake up, the others joining in.

Suddenly, the wood split and burst, flying out.

Steve surged into the hallway, naked except for a pair of boxers and his shield at the ready.

His face was worried but on the verge of “game face;” the look Tony said he had when he went into battle.

“What?” he said. “What’s happening?”

“Tony’s missing,” Clint panted. “He’s missing and we’ve got to-”

He was cut off as Tony ambled out of Steve’s destroyed doorway, wearing Captain America boxers and rubbing at his eyes.

“Wassapening?” he grumbled before faceplanting into Steve’s shoulder blade and wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Um,” Steve turned pink, and wow, that blush really did go all the way down. “They couldn’t find you so they thought you were missing.”

“Why would you think I was missing?” Tony asked, though it was muffled by the muscular shoulder he was currently shoving his face into.

“You weren’t in your room or your workshop...” Clint trailed off.

“And you didn’t think to ask JARVIS where I was?”

The others exchanged guilty glances. Sleep really was the friend of logic and none of them were that rested.

“What were you doing in Steve’s room?” Natasha asked accusingly.

“Starting a macarena band,” Tony snarked, pulling away from Steve’s shoulder, though still leaning into him. “What the fuck do you think? We were sleeping.”

“You weren’t doing... anything else?” Bruce asked tentatively.

“We weren’t having sex, if that’s what you're asking,” Tony said.

Steve’s blush grew a deeper shade of red.

“So why are you in your underwear?” Natasha asked.

“You’d be in your underwear too if you had a supersoldier curled around you in bed,” Tony said.

Steve made an embarrassed noise and said, “He means I have a high body temperature.”

“Sure thing, Cap,” Tony winked. “Now, can I go back to bed? Or do we have more wild goose chases to go on?”

“No,” Clint said grudgingly. “You can go back to sleep.”

Good night’s were exchanged once more and everyone ambled back to their own bedrooms, Natasha with a cuff to the back of Clint’s head and a “See you in bed.”

“Hey Tony,” Clint said just before Tony followed Steve back through the ruined doorway. “So... are you two, like, a thing?”

Tony grinned, wide and happy. “Sorry Hawkass, I don’t kiss and tell.”

Clint snorted and turned away shaking his head, though he was smiling.

He heard a loud bounce that sounded like Tony landing on the bed and Tony’s yell of, “The sex is amazing though!”

“Eeeew!” he cried, drowning out Steve’s “Tony!” and ran back to his bedroom.

He slipped under the covers next to Natasha and wrapped an arm around her waist, burying his face in her neck.

“Missed you,” he murmured.

“Yeah, you too,” the smile was evident in her voice. “Even when you force me to get out of bed to look for someone who isn’t even missing.”

“Hey, don’t blame me. Blame sleep deprivation. And Tony.”

“I blame you both.”