Iron-Hawk Short Stories

New Task (2/2)

AN: Yall why do you never tell me if I upload the wrong thing to the wrong book (for those who saw)

Third Person's POV

Ever since they had gotten Clint "back" things had been a little different. There's wasn't a word to describe how he was other than stiff. They understood that adjustment to a different life style may have been difficult but this was strange on a another level.

"Hey what do you want to eat tonight?" Stark asked as he picked up his car keys off the counter. He saw the other man shrug out of the corner of his eyes.

"I don't have a preference." Clint answered and he genuinely looked lost. As if nobody had ever asked him for his opinion before.

"C'mon even I fight with Cap over what we have for lunch." Stark tried with a small smile but received a blank stare. "You must like something. What the hell have you been eating before all of this?"

"I was just given energy bars and water whilst I was with them." Right, they still didn't know who 'them' was. Fury had taken initiative and asked the council about Barton's 'transfer' but they had denied that they had ever transferred him.

"So what you're telling me is that you've never tasted anything." Tony raised an eyebrow. He understood that Clint was pretty much a year old but this was fucking weird.

"Maybe I did before I became a mindless killer." Clint grumbled like a child. Tony raised his arms in defence.

"Alright touchy subject matter I see." The brunette said. "How about you just pick something you'd like to try then."

"I don't know what I want."

Tony rolled his eyes before he slammed the keys back down on the counter. "You know what scratch buying food. I'll just cook tonight."

Clint stared at him curiously. "What are you cooking?"

"My grandmother's pasta probably." He could change his decision later on if he wanted.

"I didn't know you could cook."

"I'm Italian. If I didn't know how to cook at least one thing I would have been disowned long ago." Tony chuckled as he made his way back towards the kitchen. Clint followed him like a puppy.

"Can I ask you something?" Barton muttered as he sat on the countertop chairs and observed the other man cook.

"Go ahead." Stark answered as he tried to recall what his grandmother told him. It wasn't a complicated recipe, it just required the right set of herbs and spices.

"H-How do you live without any direction?" Clint furrowed his brows as he leaned his elbows on the counter. Tony turned his head around. "I know people have fought for freedom and I know free will is almost a basic human right these days...but I can't. I feel so conflicted without any orders."

"Are you sure you're not a fucking robot?" Tony tried to joke but saw how much distress the other man was in. "Is that why you're so...I don't know how to place it, weirded out now that you're free?" he received a nod.

"When she told me to shoot you, I know that I wanted to make my own decisions. Now that I have that opportunity I don't want it anymore. I don't like this free will thing Tony."

"Why don't you just give yourself a task then?" Tony suggested as he turned back to cooking. Barton thought about it for a moment. Maybe he should give himself a task.

"What sort of task?"

Stark groaned audibly. "I asked for you to give yourself a task. The whole point is you sort it out yourself dipshit." Clint glanced away as he realised that the other man had asked him to do something. At least that was something to start with.

He sat there for another half an hour, drowning in his own thoughts whilst Stark continued to cook in the background. A little more time passed before Tony pushed a plate of freshly cooked spaghetti Bolognese in front of him.

It smelt fucking amazing to say the least, enough to make him drool of want. "I didn't know you were Italian."

Tony smiled and handed him a fork. "Is it because I don't have an accent? How very stereotypical of you." Barton turned his head away to hide his embarrassment.

"N-no I just..."

"I'm only fucking with you. I was born and raised here but my family is inherently from Italy."

Clint only let out a soft 'oh' as he picked up his fork. He scooped up some of the pasta and shoved it in its mouth. The taste was everything he expected and so much more.

"This is really good." He commented.

"Oh yeah ? Different from your energy bars?" Tony snickered as he ate as well. "I'm glad you like it." There was a moment of silent. "So you find yourself a task?"

"Yeah actually." Barton answered and saw the other man quirk his eyebrow. "I'm not going to tell you though."

Stark smirked. "Hey, as long as you stop acting like a creepy robot. I'm good with whatever you choose."

NEW TASK: Make sure that Tony Stark is the happiest man alive.