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RIGHT TO LEFT! A scene from Hella's FrostIron (Loki/Tony) fic "Off the Record"~ [link]
[Previous to this, Loki and Tony were starting to "get it on" on the couch in the common room.]

Tony turned back around, mentally mapping the quickest way to his room. He desperately needed to think.

Clint stood on the far side of the oversized coffee table, eating a banana in silence. His eyes were very wide.

Tony decided that the best way to approach this awkward situation was with casual maturity.

"What did you see?"

"Nick Fury's death by cardiac arrest."

Damn it. Well, Tony thought in resignation, at least he could explain the awkward workshop moment now, without looking like some kind of technophile deviant.

Taking a huge, traumatised bite of his banana, Clint chewed in thoughtful silence for a moment.

"Who puts it in?"

The question came from so far out of left field that Tony was struck speechless for a moment. Of all the things he expected him to say, that was definitely not it.

"Really, Barton? That's your first question. Not 'how could you fraternise with the enemy' or 'how long has this been going on' or 'have you been compromised'? You want to know who puts it in?"

"What?" he shot back, hunching his shoulders defensively. "I'm in fuckin' shock here, trying not to look at the tent you're pitching and Jesus man, Loki? How are you even still alive? You should be…clawed half to death, or glowing in the dark or something."

Description
RIGHT TO LEFT! A scene from Hella's FrostIron (Loki/Tony) fic "Off the Record"~ [link]
[Previous to this, Loki and Tony were starting to "get it on" on the couch in the common room.]

Tony turned back around, mentally mapping the quickest way to his room. He desperately needed to think.

Clint stood on the far side of the oversized coffee table, eating a banana in silence. His eyes were very wide.

Tony decided that the best way to approach this awkward situation was with casual maturity.

"What did you see?"

"Nick Fury's death by cardiac arrest."

Damn it. Well, Tony thought in resignation, at least he could explain the awkward workshop moment now, without looking like some kind of technophile deviant.

Taking a huge, traumatised bite of his banana, Clint chewed in thoughtful silence for a moment.

"Who puts it in?"

The question came from so far out of left field that Tony was struck speechless for a moment. Of all the things he expected him to say, that was definitely not it.

"Really, Barton? That's your first question. Not 'how could you fraternise with the enemy' or 'how long has this been going on' or 'have you been compromised'? You want to know who puts it in?"

"What?" he shot back, hunching his shoulders defensively. "I'm in fuckin' shock here, trying not to look at the tent you're pitching and Jesus man, Loki? How are you even still alive? You should be…clawed half to death, or glowing in the dark or something."