Clint invaded Tony’s workshop (really, invaded, he’d invaded all of Tony’s spaces, the workshop, the penthouse, his bedroom, that squishy bit in the middle of his chest that he thought might be last year’s bad Chinese takeout from that awful place in LA) and crowded him up against the workbench.
“Yes. Hi there. It’s a good thing I wasn’t soldering something, or welding something, or exploding something, it might not have ended well for parts of you that we’re both pretty attached to, you more literally than me, of course, but in spirit, I’m there with you - “
Tony-babble, in full effect. Since Clint really didn’t have time to let it wind down naturally, he went for brutal efficiency, and the classic stop with a kiss. Mind-bending as always, naturally. Since Tony got so much practice wagging his tongue practically 24 hours a day, he had a well-practiced, God-given talent with it when kissing. Clint was so far gone beard burn was even a fucking turn on, he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. To himself. Privately.
Unfortunately, he actually didn’t have time, and backed off enough for Tony’s brain to start grinding again.
Tony paused in his efforts to get that mouth back where it ought to be when a thought occurred. “Wait. So. There’s a whole sentence floating on the end of that that you haven’t even started to say yet.”
Clint nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been assigned a mission. I leave in half an hour. I should be back in five days. No, you can’t go, no, you can’t know where I’m going, no, you can’t hack SHIELD to find out anyway because Coulson is on to you, he’s considering doing everything in hard copy and then shredding it creatively and setting it on fire even more creatively just so you can’t hack it.”
Tony’s eyes narrowed in disgust. “Paper.”
Clint nodded, patronizingly, and rubbed Tony’s shoulders, also patronizingly. “I know, baby. I know.”
Tony considered being offended by being patronized for all of three seconds, but, well. Archer’s hands, on his shoulders, rubbing and patting and caressing. There was really no part of this that was bad, except the leaving far, far too soon part.
“Half an hour, huh? Not enough time for a quickie, guess we’ll just have to make out.” Tony leaned in for a kiss, and when his lips were just brushing Clint’s, he said, “you be careful, you hear me, you fucking promise you’ll be careful and you come back - “
Clint nodded, “yeah, yes, i promise, so careful - “ and grabbed hold for his promised thirty minutes of epic making out.