When You Saved Me

Chapter 68

Tony P.O.V

Clint's family just pulled up and have begun unloading suitcases by the Limo. We've gone with a larger, luxury van for extra storage, though the seats all still line the walls and face in, making it rather intimate. With four small children who have never been in a limousine, one of which being Callie, I'm not sure how relaxing it will be. She can get pretty hyper in new situations. Some things we've decided to buy when we get to the resort—food, beach toys, liquor—to save on space.

I stroll out to meet Clint, raising a hand. "Hey, Barton! You guys are early."

"Yeah, hope that's okay," Clint says.

"Totally fine, though Stevie's still in bed."

"He is? It's nine-thirty!" He calls as he transfers car seats into the limo.

"Yeah, he's been a real crank so I thought I'd let him sleep."

"Who's a crank?" Laura asks as she ambles over from Callie's playground where Thor is watching all three children.

"Stevie," Clint chuckles. "Apparently he's still sleeping."

"What? I thought he was an early riser!"

I roll my eyes. "He is, but he's having hormone problems."

The couple share a look. Clint stands up and leans against the vehicle. "Hormone problems?"

I cross my arms, considering my words. "He's unbelievably grumpy. Like, whiny and temperamental, especially at Thor. It's been fucking awful. Bruce started him on antidepressants, but it hasn't really kicked in yet as far as the emotions go."

"As far as the emotions?" Laura asks, brow furrowing.

"Yeah, I guess usually antidepressants make it harder for a guy to, uh, get up? But Stevie is having the opposite problem, though I'm thinking it's cause he hasn't been allowed to wank for the last week. Hopefully Bruce says he's good to go today or this trip is gonna be rough."

"A week? What's wrong with him?"

"He caught his head in his zipper, so he says." I shrug and Clint cringes. "Poor kid has had to change his sheets a few times this week, if you know what I mean."

Laura blushes and mumbles something about checking on the kids.

"That's rough," Clint says.

"Yeah, and you know how embarrassed he gets." Clint nods. I pat his shoulder. "I'm gonna go wake up the grouch—pray for me." I wink at him before strolling back into the house. Bruce and Nat are coming through the kitchen so I grab the former's shoulder. "Time to check the boy's wiener."

"Okay, I'll come check in fifteen minutes, give him some time to shower."

I carry on to Steve's room alone and find the door ajar. Callie had been in his bed last night, I guess she wasn't able to wake him and decided to just leave. The room smells stale, like boy, so I open a window casting light onto his face. His full lips are slightly open, lashes dark against pale cheeks, hair sticking up at obscure angles—he's adorable. My stomach does an odd flip that is confusing so I push it away. I sit beside him and gently push the hair off his forehead. "Hey, Buddy, time to wake up."

He grumbles and rolls onto his back, the prominent tent in the blankets causes me to blush. "Five more minutes." His voice is coarse with sleep.

I chuckle and force my eyes away from the teepee. "No, it's already nine-thirty. You need to get ready to go."

He kicks his legs and throws an arm over his eyes. "I'm tired."

"Are you tired, or did I interrupt a nice dream?" I grin as he covers his face with the blanket. "Come on, get up."