The Avengers were going to be the death of Tony. Or more accurately, the Avengers' living in Stark Tower was going to be.

You see, one week into knowing the Avengers, Tony had gotten the brilliant idea into his head of having all of them live with him. In his house. Permanently.

Where had he gotten this idea, you ask? Well, Pepper would probably say from his sheer stupidity. Tony preferred to think of it more as helping out the superheroes who'd saved the world.

Here's how it had gone down. One week after the Avengers had saved New York and by extension the entire world, Nick Fury had called the Avengers in for a meeting. It had been to formally set up the Avengers as a team. Tony, as a consultant, had been invited along for politeness, he was guessing.

Well, good old Cap had mentioned something about his living situation with SHIELD. Tony didn't even remember what it was; all his attention was taken by Fury's response.

"If you don't like it, you can go and live on the streets. That's your only other option, Rogers."

The resigned look on Rogers' face had made Tony snap. He'd said the first thing that came to his mouth: "He can live with me."

Everyone swiveled around to stare at Tony.

Unfortunately, Tony had a habit of digging himself deeper into messes once he'd started them. "Banner, too. Actually, all of you can. I mean, come on! We saved the world together, we can do some buddying up! I have way more space than I need, after all."

He eyed Rogers, expecting a jab about his wealth, but the man looked stunned.

Fury raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about this, Stark? You want to house the Avengers?"

Tony looked around the table. Varying degrees of surprise and amazement shone on the five Avengers' faces. He shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Those were some famous last words. That night and the entire next day was a time of furious renovations - or so he told the team. In reality, he'd started building rooms for them three days after New York. He'd started it more as a way to escape the nightmares that plagued him than anything, but damn if it hadn't caught on.

At nine p.m. that next day, the Avengers came to their new home.

Despite every warning signal in his brain telling him not to be, Tony was excited. He loved giving gifts, and he'd put a lot of effort into their rooms. He'd given Romanoff a dance studio, Banner a library, even Rogers an art studio.

There was only one problem. They didn't share his excitement.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. It was weird. They both did and didn't. Barton was a prime example of it.

When Tony first led the man into his rooms, Barton was just as excited as Tony was. He talked just as fast as Tony did, firing rapid questions about the place and going so far as to bounce on the balls of his feet when Tony showed him the shooting range. Then he sobered.

"Dude, you made this for me?" Barton's tone was disbelieving. He looked both awed and overwhelmed.

Tony rolled his eyes, forcing a casualness he didn't feel. "See any other archers around here?"

"Well, no, it's just- you didn't have to do this for me."

The words were quiet but they still hurt. Tony soldiered through the sting of rejection. Of course Barton didn't want it - he probably had a much better one back at SHIELD headquarters.

"Well, I did," he said, keeping his voice as light as he could, "and it was an awful lot of money so no take-backs, Feathers. You're stuck with it whether you like it or not. You don't have to use it."

Then, deciding he'd wounded his pride enough for the day, he turned and started away, throwing over his shoulder a, "Kitchen's up at floor 63 if you get hungry. Ciao."

Footsteps. Barton caught his elbow. "Wait, Tony, that's not what I meant."

"Couldn't have said it any clearer, and I am a genius," Tony said with a bit of a snap in his voice, going to pull away. The hand on his arm was...nice, but there was a reason Tony didn't like being handed things and that reason extended to touch, too.

The hand tightened, pulling Tony up short. He wished he could've said it was PTSD that caused his heart to race, but it was just genuine surprise. He couldn't remember the last time anyone other than Rhodey or Pepper had willingly touched him for anything other than sex.

He reluctantly turned back around, eyeing Barton with a this better be good sort of face. He'd been told he was great at them.

"Dude, listen. That came out wrong and I'm sorry. Walking disaster here, see?" Barton gave a self-deprecating smile. "What I meant was I wasn't expecting you to go to all that trouble on my part, but I really...shit, I really appreciate it, okay?"

Tony blinked a few times. There weren't a whole lot of cracks in the iron he'd locked around his heart but it looked like Barton had managed to find one and within a week of knowing him to boot. That meant it was definitely time to leave before that crack got any wider. Tony'd willingly kill himself before being vulnerable in front of anyone, especially the Avengers.

"Great, cool, nice to know someone appreciates my genius around here," Tony rattled off rapidly, then hid a wince. "Not that people don't. But idiots abound and, uh, unfortunately I have to show them around to their rooms so you'll have to excuse me, Barton."

Barton let go of Tony's arm and seemed almost to twitch. "It's, uh...everyone else calls me Clint."

Shit. If he refused, Barton would probably think he disliked him, which wasn't at all what Tony was going for. He was actually trying to - well, not make friends since three going on four decades of existence had told him that was impossible - but, he was trying to be nice. To make an effort. Tony Stark wasn't recommended, Tony Stark was just a consultant, but the Avengers Initiative was the closest thing he had to atoning for his crimes. He couldn't mess this up, too.

"Right, Clinty Clint. Y'know, I still think I like Birdbrain better, or Legolas. Legolas was definitely a brilliant nickname and I'm keeping it." He paused, suddenly remembering that people often disliked his nicknames. "Uh, unless you're vetoing it. Pep's always telling me not to force things on other people-"

"It's fine," Barton interrupted, looking awkward. Tony wanted to kick himself. He'd had no more than three conversations with the man, only one of them longer than five minutes. He was getting himself in way too far, way too fast.

This was why he didn't have friends.

"Cool." Tony withdrew to the elevator. "Well, if you need something from me, I already introduced you to JARVIS. Just tell him and he'll contact me."

"What, I can't come talk to you myself?" Barton asked. "You too good to commune with the plebeians or something?"

It was impossible to tell if Barton meant the last comment - Tony's people skills had never been the best, and Barton used sarcasm like a second language. "You know me: genius, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist. Also the chief engineer and designer of Stark Industries so, you know. Bit busy."

Come on, Tony. You have to try, he reminded himself. They wouldn't even want him as a consultant if he pissed them off too much. "But if you need something I'll do it for you. I'll even pinky swear if you want."

Barton rolled his eyes, but his shoulders had relaxed a little. "No pinky swear necessary. Dunno about you but I'm not five."

Tony took that as the out it was and grinned. "From where I'm standing, I'd say four at the most. Well, duty calls. I'd tell you not to destroy the place, but if you actually manage it I'll be legitimately impressed - I Hulk-proofed the whole place."

"The whole place?" Barton's face had tightened a little and Tony wasn't going to try and puzzle that out.

"Yeeeep." He drew the word out and stepped into the elevator. "Like I said, JARVIS is about to kick my ass if I don't show the Itsy Bitsy Spider her new place. It's right above yours, by the way. Figured you'd want to be close to her. So sayanora and all that."

The elevator door closed. Tony sagged against the wall and closed his eyes, heaving out a sigh. That had been draining. For all his talk about being a playboy, he was still an introvert. Barton had gotten under his skin in a way not many people had. Tony knew he'd have to make sure that didn't keep happening. The last people he'd opened to were either dead, had betrayed him, or had left him.

There was not a chance in hell he was giving the Avengers the chance to do that to him as well.

With a touch of nerves, he went up to the communal floor the rest of the Avengers were waiting on and grabbed Thor.

Thor loved his room about as much as Barton did. Tony made sure to show him everything from the built-in observatory (so you can see the stars, Thunderbolt) to the small pool he'd installed as Thor's bathtub (I heard that's what you're used to in Asgard, right?).

Thor actually started to tear up, waxing poetic in his long, elegant phrases about how Tony was a worthy shield-brother and a generous soul. Tony was already primed to bolt - seriously, what was with these Avengers - when Thor pulled him close and hugged him.

There was no polite way to put it - Tony flailed. "U-Uh, Thor buddy, not that you're not great and all, but we aren't- aren't t-there yet."

Thor pulled back, and just in time, because Tony had started to melt into the hug. He hadn't been hugged in so long. "We are not 'there' yet, brother Anthony? To where must we get to before we can share in the bonding of brotherhood?"

Tony really hoped that was Thor's term for teammates. He swallowed and put his hands behind his back. They weren't as steady as he'd like, and Thor was surprisingly perceptive. "Don't get me wrong, you're awesome and everything, it's just I've only known you for a week."

Less than a week, actually. Thor had been in Asgard for the sentencing of his brother and hadn't gotten back until two days before. He'd been busy until just yesterday, when they'd met with Fury and Tony had invited the Avengers to live with him.

It certainly wasn't the worst decision he'd made, but with how the day was shaping up, it might not end well for him.

"I see, you wish for a longer acquaintance before we embrace," said Thor, not quite getting the point.

Tony flushed at the wording. Any normal person would've taken Tony's hint and backed off, but either Thor was obtuse or he just really wanted to be friends with Tony. Given how perceptive he'd been so far, Tony wasn't sure which one was more unlikely.

"S-Sure, we'll go with that. So in your bedroom, there's-"

"How long is the period of time you require for this?" Thor interrupted. He'd fixed Tony with an earnest look. "I wish to be close friends with you, son of Stark. You have the soul of a true shield-brother."

Tony had no idea how to respond. He stared at Thor for a solid second. "I, uh, what?"

Thor lifted his hands, went to set them on Tony's shoulders, then stopped. "All of the Avengers are worthy combatants and true allies of Asgard! I wish to cultivate a strong bond between all of us, Friend Anthony."

"O-Oh." Tony had almost pulled his thoughts back together. He took a step back and slapped on an easy smile. "Well, hate to burst your bubble, Point-Break, but I'm not really an Avenger. So, the bedroom has-"

"It matters not what your title may be," Thor said, quieter. Apparently he had an indoor voice after all. "Your heart is generous and kind, and you have the courage of Odin himself. Verily, you are of-"

"Sorry to interrupt," Tony lied swiftly, "and really, I appreciate the sentiment. I'll get back to you on your, uh, friendship dates, but until then there's a bedroom waiting for us!"

Thor looked at him for a few seconds. Tony's stomach dropped. Every time he'd mentioned showing Thor the rest of his rooms, he'd interrupted Tony. Maybe he didn't really like them after all?

"Very well, Friend Anthony. Lead on."

Tony swallowed. If he'd come this close to disaster in the first twenty minutes of talking to Thor alone, he wasn't sure what another twenty minutes would do. Especially if Thor didn't actually like his rooms.

Which, when Tony thought about it, made sense. After all, the guy had grown up on an alien planet that was apparently far more advanced than Earth. Of course Tony's technology wasn't good enough for Thor. The thought stung his pride a little, but he pushed past it.

"On second thoughts," he hedged, "I think I'll let JARVIS give you the grand tour. You remember him, right?"

"Of course. He is the creation you named and put inside these walls. A fine construction even my brother would envy."

Thor's face fell at the mention of his brother. Tony felt a little bad for the guy - finding out your brother was a mass-murderer and watching him get condemned to jail for the rest of his life couldn't have been easy. He didn't feel bad enough to stay and comfort him, though. He was far too stressed out and panicky for that, and he still had three Avengers to go.

"Not sure that's a compliment, given your brother's, well, everything, but I'll take it. Anyway, JARVIS is here if you need anything. Knock yourself out." He gave a wave and started backing up towards the elevator.

"And how shall I meet with you, son of Stark?"

It was the same thing Barton had asked. It threw him just as much. "You can ask JARVIS to contact me. If you need anything from me, he'll tell me."

Thor started to say something else, but Tony practically leaped into the elevator. The doors shut a moment later.

"JARVIS," he groaned, "how am I going to do this three more times?"

"I have faith in you, sir."

"Great, because I'm not so sure I do," Tony grumbled. "Well, time to pick up Romanoff."

The elevator stopped at where the other three Avengers were waiting. He guessed the proper term for it was the common area. It was mostly a kitchen and dining area, but he had installed a TV and a couple of couches. That was more courtesy of four a.m. nightmares than anything else.

"You alright, Stark?" Cap asked as Tony stepped out of the elevator.

Tony bristled. He hadn't quite gotten over the whole "I've known men with none of that worth ten of you" thing. Or, you know, the fact that he'd gone his entire childhood being second-best to the man.

"I'm fine, Rogers. I'd be even better if you didn't ask such dumb questions. Hey Widow, you coming? It's your turn."

Rogers gave Banner a look, who shrugged and didn't return the look. Tony knew he'd liked Banner for a reason.

Romanoff was next to Tony the next instant, moving as soundlessly as she always did. "You'd better impress me, Stark. I didn't leave SHIELD headquarters for nothing."

Tony fixed her with a smirk, swallowing down the anxiety her statement produced. He'd had no idea what she'd want for her floor, so he'd made his best guesses. With his luck, she'd probably hate her entire floor.

It shouldn't have been a big deal, but Tony had put a lot of effort into it. He hated having his gifts rejected. He told other people it was because he didn't like wasting his time on something they wouldn't use. While that was part of it, it was more that rejecting his gifts felt like a rejection of himself.

"I'm offended you'd doubt me," he told her as the elevator started down. The communal floors were right below his penthouse. "I'll have you know, I labored over your floor."

Like too many things he'd said that day, his intended joke fell flat and came out sounding far too genuine. Romanoff just stared at him.

It was at that moment that the doors opened. Tony decided he'd kiss JARVIS later - he wasn't sure how he'd do that exactly but he'd definitely give it a try. "Alright, here we are, Natashlie. Let's start with- what?"

Romanoff had looked over the room the elevator opened out into - sleek, modern, built specifically for defensive positioning in a fight - then turned to him with an actual look of surprise. For her to look like that, she must've been shocked.

"When you said 'floor,' I wasn't expecting an entire floor to myself. I thought I'd be sharing with Clint."

Tony blinked. Oh shit. Shit, of course she would've wanted to share with Barton. They were best friends, practically inseparable. He'd thought that putting her floor right above his would be enough, but clearly not.

"If you'd rather share with Birdbrain, be my guest. That's one less floor I'll have to maintain," he said, going for flippant. From the way Romanoff's mouth tightened, he didn't think he'd succeeded.

"Stark," she said slowly.

"Really, should've thought about that - genius, right? Of course you two'd want to live together. Birdy didn't seem to mind but, well, spy and all that. I can re-purpose one of his rooms for a bedroom, it'll just take me a day or two."

Romanoff had listened to his distracted soliloquy with a focused interest that made him more uncomfortable the longer he talked. When he finally stopped, she looked at her surroundings once more, then back at him.

"I misjudged you."

"Um, care to elaborate? Because if you're talking about that time you told me my lasagna was crap, then yes. That lasagna was amazing."

Romanoff's lips quirked. "No, it was crap. I meant on the report I gave to Fury."

There was only one report Tony could remember her giving to Fury about him, but he couldn't imagine the Black Widow ever admitting to being wrong on an assignment. He wracked his brain for further ideas.

When he didn't respond, Romanoff sighed. "I'd tell you to stop gloating, but I think you're genuinely clueless. I meant the report I gave to Fury that said you were narcissistic and not recommended for the Initiative."

"Oh." What was it with these Avengers? He really needed a nap. "Well it's about time. All it took was what, throwing myself into space hitched onto a nuke? Should've tried that sooner, damn."

"Cut the crap, Stark. I can tell that's not what you really think." Romanoff had stepped closer to him. "I'll admit, it took me longer than I like in order to seeyou. You're better than most agents when it comes to hiding behind masks."

"Masks aren't really my style, Widow. As many people will tell you, I much prefer nothing at all." He gave her a wink.

She tilted her head. "Does that actually work?"

He started to get annoyed. She wasn't supposed to do that, just like Thor wasn't supposed to hug him, just like Clint wasn't supposed to thank him for building him a floor.

"Does what actually work? I can guarantee you everything in this building works, because I made it."

"You can drop the act, Stark. I know you're scared."

Tony stepped back. "Of what? There's nothing to be scared of."

"You're right, there isn't. None of us are going to do what you think we are."

He huffed, rubbing his throbbing temples. "Look, if you're trying to psycho-analyze me just because I couldn't read your mind and stick you with Clint-"

"Tony."

She never called him Tony. He stopped mid-sentence.

"The fact that you keep going back to that just proves my point. I never said I didn't want to be on this floor. I never even said I didn't like it."

"Of course you didn't," Tony huffed. "You can't dislike it, you haven't even seen it yet!"

Romanoff eyed him and he shut up again.

"You don't need to be afraid, Tony. We aren't like Howard. We aren't like Stane."

"I-" for once, Tony found his endless barrage of words had slowed to a halt. "How...?"

Romanoff nodded, business-like. "Now, would you like to show me around? It looks lovely."

He had no idea how he could possibly act normal now. Her words had left him reeling in more ways than one. "I-I think I'll have JARVIS show you around."

Romanoff's face dropped. He knew she was probably manipulating him, but damn if it didn't work. "You don't want to show me yourself?"

"I-" he sighed. "Fine."

One thing was for certain. These Avengers were going to be the death of him.

A/N: please review!