Tony had been hesitant to offer a room to Clint when it was discovered that the man’s house had been utterly destroyed in the last earth-threatening battle.
The Hulkbuster was not meant for indoor usage. Ever.
And because Clint and Tony never really saw each other outside of battle, Tony got the distinct impression that Clint had more hate than love for the multi-billionaire. It was understandable, most people took that position against Tony, but then, most people usually weren’t going to live in his house either.
Despite that little hang-up, Tony still offered the room and Clint still accepted, rather gratefully, much to Tony’s surprise.
So Tony got a room prepared, and while normally Tony would have offered a floor to the man, this was actually Tony’s house, not Stark Tower itself – which was currently in shambles. It only had three floors and an attic - which was used primarily for storage.
So room, singular, upside: the room did have its own bathroom complete with a hot tub, bath, shower, as well as a few extra amenities that might at some point be necessary.
It wasn’t the master bedroom, ill-fit for human use at the moment, but it was the best next thing.
“Sir.” And Tony turned his welding iron off and lifted his goggles onto the top of his head. “Clint Barton and two young children are with him at the front door.”
Tony stood, throwing his goggles onto the nearest couch as he made to clean up fast and get to the foyer, “Children?” He questioned the AI.
“Yes, sir. Would you like me to show them inside?”
Tony ran a hand through his newly cleaned dampened hair and tugged on some jeans before reaching for the nearest shirt, which happened to be a black T with Ironman printed on the front.
“Yeah, sure. Who’re the kids, again, J?”
There was a pause, Jarvis no doubt getting the info from Clint or whatever, while Tony began taking the steps up from his lab towards the foyer. He was no longer covered in grease, nor was his hair a mess and clothes slick and dripping with sweat. Tony was presentable, and while it was not in record time (two minutes and forty-three seconds to shower and get in his best suit for a board meeting) it was still relatively fast.
“Agent Barton declares them to be his children, Sir.” Jarvis finally intoned when Tony was but three rooms and a hallway away, “They seem to be most fascinated with the house.”
Tony grinned as he pushed the double doors to the foyer open. “Awesome.” And then he turned his attention to Clint and the two little monkeys beside him.
Both kids were staring at his with wide eyes.
“”Are you really Ironman?” The boy questioned, doubt clouding his eyes as he took several brave steps forward.
“Thomas.” Clint sighed, in an obvious warning to be using manners. Tony would recognize that tone from anywhere and anyone.
“Yep.” Tony popped the ‘p’ with a Cheshire grin, “The one and only!”
The girl immediately squeaked and launched herself at him, wrapped her tiny arms around his waist, “I love you!”
Tony shot Clint a look who only shrugged.
“They’re fans.” He explained, like it was inevitable and he stood no chance at opposition
“Totally!” The boy, Thomas presumably, pumped his fists, “Dad took us to the Stark Expo last year and everything! It was so awesome!”
“I never wanted to leave!” The girl confessed into Tony’s hip.
Tony grinned, “Glad you guys enjoyed it.”
“They actually hid in one of the booths, hoping I’d leave them there for eternity.” Clint sighed, crossing his arms, as he sent two slightly dulled glared at his kids.
Tony noted that they were about six. Both had dirty blonde hair like Clint, but their eyes were a sharp green that was surely not of Clint’s own.
Probably the mother’s, Tony reasoned.
Then the kids were suddenly fluttering about, rehashing the battles they’d seen on TV. The girl pointed at her shirt (and Ironman T not unlike Tony’s own, but miniaturized), explaining when, exactly, he father had bought it for her and at what specific booth. Then Thomas showed off his Ironman shoes that flashed with each step, his Ironman shorts, and an action figure – which was kept carefully in the boy’s pocket.
Tony then pointed out the difference of volume of the Ironman merchandise each child owned, and the girl took that as an invitation to proudly show off her Ironman underwear – something Tony had not ever needed to see in the entirety that was his life.
“I have an Ironman plushie too!” She squeaked as a flustered Clint hurriedly tried to refasten his little girl back into her pants. “But he’s at the dry cleaners since accidentally I spilt milk on him.”
Then Thomas told Tony that he was going to grow up and build his own Ironman suit too, “-and I’ll be your sidekick!” He cheered with raised hands, “It’ll be so cool!”
“Nu-uh!” The girl whined, separating from her father after he’d finally gotten her trousers back around her tiny waist, “I’m gonna be his sidekick! You don’t even have a hero name!” She pushed her brother’s shoulder angrily, and cross her arms in a way that reminded Tony of Clint when the archer was hearing what you were saying but wasn’t listening.
“So you do?”
“You bet your ass-“
“Language, Mandy.” Clint chided.
“-I do.” She puffed her chest up, fists on her hips, and struck a pose that was so distinctly Iron Man, Tony had to grin. “I’ll be the Iron Woman.” She shot her brother a dirty look, “And we’re gonna get married.”
Tony could help a snort as Clint introduced his palm to his face.
It was just so surreal, and so adorable, and Tony had no idea how to handle this sudden weirdness. His grin got more large and his laughter more difficult to hide as the little girl went out of her way to detail to her brother just where exactly the new Mr. and Mrs. Tony Stark were going to live, and how many kids they’d have, and how many puppies they’d nurture together.
“O-kay!” Tony stopped the conversation, no longer able to keep his silence, and spread his arms out wide, “Who wants ice cream?”
It was strangely easy to distract Hawkeye’s spawn, but Tony was glad for the reprieve anyway. He sent the tykes off with Dummy for chocolate mint, and then turned back to Hawkeye to get the kind of scoop he wanted.
And his own set of Ironman underwear.