Tony had been in his workshop when it first happened. Well, first that he noticed anyways. He had been working on repairs after a particularly rough fight, everyone was fine but the suit had been battered. Tony had spent the last couple of days (he had already lost track, funny how the workshop was like a casino) working on repairs and upgrades. He almost didn’t catch Natasha as she plummeted off the roof; Tony hadn’t been watching for it because that was usually Clint’s genius move. It was a dumb mistake. Tony wouldn't let it happen again. He couldn't.
Tony had his goggles on, welding together lumps of metal when Clint swung down from the vent without so much as a warning.
Tony yelped. “Jesus! Clint! I could’ve burned your face off!” Tony said, removing his safety goggles.
“Thank god you didn’t. Then who would’ve been the eye candy of the team?” He cheekily grinned. “Anyways, be grateful, for I have brought you a sandwich prepared by the master himself; me.” And held out a plate with a rather good-looking sandwich.
Tony blinked. “Why?” wide puppy-eyes red from exhaustion, grease smeared along his forehead and staring with at the archer with genuine bewilderment on his face.
Clint fully exited the ventilation system to speak face to face with Tony. “What do you mean why? When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”
Tony blinked again. “I… how long have I been down here?”
Clint rolled his eyes. “Jarvis?”
The AI’s voice came to life, “It has been 51 hours and 28 minutes since sir has eaten.”
“Jesus, Tony! Aren’t you starving?”
“Well, now that you mention it, I, uh, guess so.” Clint shoved the plate into Tony’s hands.
“For a genius, you can be real dumb sometimes.” Tony just stared between the sandwich in his hands and Clint, “No sassy and slightly offensive comeback? Wow, you’re gonna need another sandwich.”
Clint head towards the elevator this time, before Tony called to him, “But…you went out of your way to do this for me? I don’t… understand.”
Clint stopped. “Well that’s a first. You’re my friend, Tony. Probably one of my best friends, to be honest.” Clint awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. “I…care about you.” the last part almost came out as a whisper.
This time Tony cracked a childish smile. “Awww. I’m touched. I care about you too, Katniss.”
And if from then on, Clint made sure Tony was eating, nobody brought it up.