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“Are you sure that this is a real game?” Steve asked dubiously, casting a glance over at Natasha before he looked back at Clint. “Or are you just messing with me?”
“No, I'm serious. Lots of people do this.” Clint was slurring his words a little at this point, but his aim was still perfect as he tossed bits of paper and pens at each of them. “Just write down one person you'd fuck, one you'd marry and one you'd kill. Then we compare results.”
“And we may only choose a person from within this circle, is that correct?” Thor asked, looking at his piece of paper with obvious delight. Steve sighed.
“None of us want to kill each other, Clint.”
“Speak for yourself,” Tony said, already jotting something down with a wide grin on his face. “Sorry, Cap, not all of us are so pure.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “I know it's easy to forget, but I've lived through World War Two.”
“Then this should be a piece of cake,” Tony said with a wink in his direction, and Steve heaved another sigh as he picked up his paper. Sometimes he hated being the only sober person in a room full of drunks. Maybe if he was sloshed this wouldn't seem like such a dumb idea.
“Alright, everyone done? Pass 'em here.” Clint made grabby hands at the group as everyone handed back their slips of paper. “I'd like to say this was anonymous but I know you guys' handwriting, so... tough luck.”
“Just get on with it, Barton,” Tony said, now leaning forward where he'd been slouching in his armchair all night. In fact most of the group seemed eager to hear the results. Steve grabbed another beer that wouldn't do anything for him and settled back on the couch as Clint dramatically unfolded the first piece of paper.
“Alright, let's see. We got one for fuck Nat.” He gestured dramatically at her. “Marry Steve.” Steve grimaced when Clint pointed straight at him. “And kill – me?” He shouted, affronted. “Alright, so this person clearly has awful taste.” He picked up another slip of paper and frowned. “Okay, seriously, what did I ever do to you people?”
“Just tally up the scores, Hawkass,” Tony drawled, and Clint gave him a dirty look as he unfolded all the other papers and spread them out in front of him.
“Alright, so we got... okay, fuck you guys. Three kills for me, two for Stark, one for Banner.” He glared around the circle as Steve cast a guilty look at Bruce who had raised an eyebrow at the drop of his name.
“Only because the Hulk would protect you,” he said, and Bruce laughed, toasting him with his glass of water.
“Can't argue with that logic. Good choice, Steve.”
“Yeah, I just want to kill Barton. What can I say?” Tony shrugged, and Clint stuck his tongue out at him.
“Right back at you, Stark.” Clint looked down at the table. “Alright, we have an even split on fucking. Three for Nat, three for Tony.” He smirked, waving the paper slips. “Anyone want to elaborate on that? Please, I'm all ears.”
Steve looked over when Tony made a choking noise, only to see that Thor had apparently clapped him on the back with a wide grin.
“Our friend Tony has a wide range of experience! It would be an honor to share in his vast knowledge of the pleasure arts!”
“Are you calling me a slut?” Tony asked when he'd finished coughing. “You wouldn't be wrong, but still, rude.”
“I'm offended that you didn't pick me, Nat. Offended,” Clint said, and Natasha shrugged.
“I've always wanted to put Tony in his place. And I put you down for kill already.”
Clint gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “You traitor! I put you down for fuck!”
“What an honor,” she deadpanned, and Steve sighed.
“It's just a game, guys. It doesn't mean anything.”
“Oh, I'm feeling perfectly validated right now,” Tony said with a grin as he put both hands behind his head. “If any of you kill me in a crime of passion I won't blame you.”
“Alright, let's get to the married part then, shall we?” Clint rustled with the papers for a second before he nodded. “Okay, so we've got... one for Steve, two for Steve, three for Steve, four for Steve – one abstention,” he said with a raised eyebrow at Steve. “Aaand, one for Banner. There you have it!”
Steve blinked. He hadn't expected so many of them to pick him.
“Well, no surprises there,” Natasha said with a lazy stretch. “So who picked Bruce?”
“It wasn't you?” Bruce asked, and Steve had to admit that he'd suspected that as well. “Then who –“
“Oh, come on, guys,” Tony drawled, leaning over to throw an arm around Bruce. “He's a catch! Just think of all the genius babies we could make.” He tickled his fingers under Bruce's chin, and Bruce grabbed his hand to pull it away, his cheeks a little red under his tan.
“I'm... flattered? I think?” he said, and Steve shifted in his seat, a weird feeling settling in his gut as he watched them now. They were sitting awfully close, weren't they? “Although I refuse to make science babies in a petri dish.”
“But Bruuuce, our geeenes,” Tony whined right into Bruce's neck, and Bruce patted his thigh.
“They'll be plenty smart with just one of our gene pools.”
Tony made a face. “You want to deny our hypothetical children the full force of our awesomeness? Have a heart, Brucey-bear.” He put his head down on Bruce's shoulder, wrapping his other arm around him too. Steve averted his eyes, honestly a little shocked at the heat he could feel in his own face. What the hell was wrong with him?
He looked down at the paper slips on the table, his eyes immediately zeroing in on Tony's. There it was, black on white in Tony's handwriting. Fuck Natasha, Marry Bruce, Kill Clint. So everyone in the group saw Steve as husband material except Tony. Which was fine, obviously. This was just a stupid game.
“Alright, that was fun,” Clint said, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. “Damn. What time is it?”
“What, throwing in the towel so soon?” Tony asked, still draped all over Bruce. Steve wasn't sure what it was that suddenly irked him about that. Bruce and Tony were friends, they were allowed to embrace each other if they wanted.
It was none of his business.
“Fuck you, it's 3am and I have a flight to catch tomorrow.” Clint rolled up from his slouch, putting his empty bottle on the coffee table. “I'm done. You guys have fun.”
“I think I'll call it a night too,” Natasha said, and Bruce nodded as he – finally – untangled himself from Tony's arms. Tony groaned.
“Aw, come on... Bunch of lightweights.” He looked around the room. “Thor, Cap, you guys are up for another round, right? Don't leave me hanging.”
“I apologize, friend Tony. I have promised the lady Jane to be on her doorstep at eight on the clock tomorrow morning.” Thor did look a bit disappointed as he got up off the couch. “I shall see you in a few days. Perhaps we might check the rain until then?”
“Take a rain check,” Tony corrected him with a dopey laugh. Wow, Tony had to be more drunk than Steve had realized judging by how loosely he held himself, his arm flopping as he waved Thor off. “Get outta here, pikachu. I'll entertain myself.”
“And what am I, chopped liver?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow, and Tony turned to him with a delighted grin, so wide that it took over his entire face. He looked so happy that Steve couldn't help but return his smile, his cheeks feeling a little warm.
“Cap! Watch a movie with me? Everyone else is being a party pooper.”
Steve wanted to say no, just call the party off like the rest of his team, but Tony looked at him with such hopeful eyes that he couldn't. “Alright. What do you want to watch?”
Instead of an answer Tony just waved a hand at the screen, which was apparently signal enough for JARVIS to pull up something from their watchlist. Steve took a sip of his beer as he surreptitiously watched Tony squirm around in his armchair until he was lying on it sideways, his head settled on one of the armrests and his legs dangling off the other side. He was almost a little impressed that Tony didn't fall off the chair despite how clumsy his movements were.
Steve looked at the table, clocking the two empty bottles of wine that he was pretty sure had been decimated by Tony and Clint alone. And since Clint hadn't seemed all that drunk – yeah. Tony was probably pretty far gone right now.
“So who did you pick?” Steve looked over at Tony whose head was hanging halfway off the armrest so he could look at Steve. “To fuck, I mean,” Tony elaborated with a lewd grin. “Obviously.”
Steve flushed, averting his eyes so he wouldn't have to see Tony's face when he said, “Natasha.”
“Mhm.” He could still feel Tony's gaze on him, but he refused to turn his head. “Y'know, I was this close to picking you.” That did make Steve look over, his heart suddenly pounding. Tony held up a hand with his thumb and forefinger only an inch apart. “Really close. But Nat does that thing with her thighs, you know? You understand.”
Steve had the wild thought that he could probably pull off that move too before he shook himself out of it. None of this meant anything. It was just a game. “I get it, Tony. No hard feelings.”
“Heh, hard feelings.” Tony chuckled to himself as he settled back into his armchair, and Steve let out a long, slow breath as he did the same. If he got lucky Tony wouldn't even remember this in the morning. “Hey, Steve?”
“Yes, Tony?” he asked, trying to calm his still unsteady heartbeat.
“You think me and Bruce would make pretty babies?”
Steve opened his mouth but had no idea what to say to that. By the time he found the strength to clear his throat he could hear that Tony's breathing had evened out, indicating that he'd fallen asleep. He'd probably get a crick in his neck if he stayed like that.
Steve still couldn't bring himself to wake him.
“I said bank left, Ironman, left!”
“You don't get to make demands when you're riding shotgun!”
“Shotgun my ass! More like dangle-gun, you fucking –“
“Focus!” Steve barked as he watched Tony finally set Clint down on top of the carrier. “Ironman, we need you down here.”
“Roger, Rogers.”
Steve twisted hard to slam his shield into the door he was trying to break down when something suddenly shoved him to the side. A familiar roar rung out right next to him, and Steve barely had time to cover his face before the entire wall practically exploded inwards under the force of a giant, green fist.
He coughed as the dust cleared and gave the Hulk a grateful nod. “Thanks, big guy.”
“Hulk smash,” the Hulk growled and turned around to do just that, diving headfirst into the oncoming barrage of Hydra goons. Which gave Steve the time to slip inside the control room and disable any and all electronics he came across. Mainly by smashing them with his shield. The Hulk clearly had the right idea there.
“Power's down,” Natasha said right as Steve put his shield through the last generator. “The machine stopped moving. Lights are off.”
That had done it then. Steve slumped where he stood, letting exhaustion catch up to him for a second before he straightened up and made his way back outside to face the music. Hopefully they hadn't done too much property damage this time. The New York mayor's smile was starting to look a little strained whenever they shook hands after their missions. “Great job, everyone. Let's –“
“Hulk! Wait, don't –“
There was an almighty crash, and Steve was running before he knew it, out into the field of unconscious – at least he hoped they were unconscious – Hydra goons. He stopped short, jaw dropping open when he saw the Hulk holding a goddamn bus that he was swinging like a baseball bat, apparently about to smash it into a building. Which clearly still had people in it.
“Stop the Hulk!” he shouted, taking off at a run when a red and gold blur suddenly shot towards the Hulk and stopped right in front of him, grabbing his face with both hands. Steve's heart stuttered with fear. “Tony, don't –“
But the Hulk froze, apparently listening to whatever Tony was saying before he grumbled and dropped the bus unceremoniously to the floor. Tony lifted his hand and the Hulk gave a booming laugh, smacking his palm against Tony's so hard he knocked him clean out of the air. Then lifted him back to his feet when Tony gave a wheezing cough, patting his head like he would a puppy.
The Hulk sure liked Tony a lot. Which made sense, since a lot of his consciousness came from Bruce, and – well, Bruce liked Tony. Probably a lot. Just as much as Tony liked Bruce.
Which was a lot.
“Steve, look out!”
Steve barely had time to turn around before something bowled him over, sending him bouncing down the street until he crashed straight through a wall. He heard shouting over the comms before the crackling lights of Natasha's widow bites as well as the thud of a body hitting the ground told him the problem was taken care of. Which was good because Steve was finding it hard to draw a full breath.
He opened his eyes when a shadow fell over him to see Natasha kneeling at his side, a worried furrow creasing her eyebrows. “Steve? Are you with me?”
“Yeah,” he croaked, obligingly lifting his head as she felt for lumps. “Didn't break anything. I think.”
“Except your dignity,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him. “What was that? You don't usually get caught off guard like this.”
“I'm sorry,” he sighed, rubbing his head as he slowly sat up. “I got... distracted.”
“Distracted,” she said in the flattest tone possible, and Steve winced, immediately wishing he hadn't because it only made her look more suspicious.
“Cap!” Steve looked up when Tony landed next to them, the faceplate popping open to reveal his worried face. “What the hell happened? You playing human pinball now?”
“He got distracted,” Natasha said before Steve could respond, and Tony turned on him with an incredulous frown.
“You. Got distracted. In the field.”
“It happens,” Steve snapped, hating the defensive tone he could hear in his voice as he clambered to his feet, swaying a little at the pain in his – well, everything. “I'm sorry I'm not perfect all the damn time!”
Tony immediately looked contrite, but Steve averted his eyes before the guilt could outweigh his anger. Which was entirely directed at himself. Damn it. “I didn't mean –“
“Save it,” Steve said, slinging his shield onto his back as he marched off. “I'll be in medical. Nat, you got clean up.”
The silent judgment he felt from Natasha's eyes on him followed him all the way back to the tower.
Steve dug a spoon into his bowl of chili, stirring it as he tried to block out the sound of conversation around him. To no avail, since Bruce and Tony weren't exactly being quiet, despite being all the way across the room.
“– have it be CPT-invariant because we know CP is broken and the theory is fucking asymmetrical in the time direction!”
“Doesn't explain why we only have matter though. The CP-variations we know of are far too weak –“
“No, but if you could reverse the fundamental time direction, would the particles not mirror-reflect their state when –“
Steve rubbed his forehead with a sigh as he took another bite of his lunch. Bruce and Tony had been at it for close to ten minutes now, and Steve could count the sentences he'd actually understood in that time on one hand. From what Steve could tell they weren't even discussing any sort of practical issue, just some kind of unsolved theoretical question relating to matter and antimatter? Whatever the hell that was.
He looked up when someone clapped him on the shoulder and saw Thor sitting down next to him with a wide grin and his own bowl of chili.
“Well met, friend Steven! Say, what troubles you?”
Steve frowned. “I'm not troubled.”
“You seem in poor spirits.” Steve unwittingly glanced over at Tony and Bruce across the room, and Thor's eyes softened with understanding as he followed his line of sight. “Ah. Yes, I believe I am quite familiar with this feeling.”
“I don't know what you mean,” Steve lied, and Thor hummed.
“My dear lady Jane, Odin preserve her, often so much as forgets my presence entirely when she converses with an intellectual equal. Do not perceive it as a slight against you, my friend, but be joyous that they delight in their craft the same way you delight in yours.”
Steve bristled. “I'm not – I don't mind it. They can talk about whatever they want.”
Thor cocked his head. “I see. Then is it your lack of understanding that has upset you so?”
Wow. Thor could really cut deep when he wanted to. “I'm not upset,” Steve mumbled valiantly, but Thor just clapped him on the shoulder again before he went back to his lunch. Steve wanted to double down, to make it clear that he wasn't, but he had the feeling that saying so would have the exact opposite effect.
His attention was drawn back to the couch when Tony laughed loudly at something Bruce said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to pull him in and write something onto the holographic screen in front of them. The symbols meant nothing to Steve.
“I think I need some air,” he said and abruptly stood, taking his bowl with him. Thor gave him a wave goodbye, wishing him a good meal. Tony and Bruce didn't even notice.
As soon as Steve was in his room he felt like an idiot for overreacting. But still, he couldn't help this all too familiar feeling of inadequacy that made his stomach churn with something almost like embarrassment. He knew that the rest of the team couldn't follow most of what Bruce and Tony talked about either, but he had a feeling that he was especially ignorant in that regard. He'd missed so much while he was in the ice. Things that Tony had probably known since he was five.
He didn't eat the rest of his chili.
“Mercy!” Clint cried, dropping dramatically to his knees when they passed their starting point once again. He crumpled to the ground in a heap as the rest of the team came to a stop, their breathing loud in the training room. “No more laps! Anything but laps, please!”
“Giving up so soon?” Tony asked, but he was practically wheezing, bent over with both hands propped up on his knees. “Weaksauce, Barton.”
Bruce sat down heavily while Natasha dropped into a stretch and Thor hopped from foot to foot, still grinning. “What say you, Captain? Another round? Have at thee!”
“I think we'll call it a day, Thor,” Steve said, a little amused despite himself as he looked at his team sprawled out on the ground. “You did well. I think we shaved off a couple seconds from last time.”
“Fuck yeah we did,” Clint mumbled into the floor as Bruce gave him a tired thumbs up. Tony was wiping his face with his shirt, revealing his sweat-glistening stomach, and Steve politely averted his eyes, ignoring the frisson of heat in his gut. Tony was an attractive man, that was no secret to anyone. It didn't mean that Steve had the right to stare at him like a piece of meat.
“Alright. We'll take a five minute break and move on to our last exercise.” There was a wave of protesting groans, but Steve gave them all a stern look. “Proper training is important. Don't worry, it's a co-op exercise, nothing too strenuous.”
“That's what you said last time,” Clint complained, but Bruce raised his hand.
“Do we choose our partners? Or did you have specific teams in mind?”
Steve's eyes flicked over to Tony, his heart sinking a little when he saw Tony grinning at Bruce, his mind clearly made up already. “No, you can choose,” Steve said a little roughly, turning away to fetch his water bottle on the side of the room. “Team up during the break. Five minutes starting now.”
He was just about to go through his own set of stretches when he felt a tap on his arm. Steve looked over and saw Tony standing there with an easy smile on his face.
“So how 'bout it, Cap? Wanna team up?”
Steve glanced over Tony's shoulder to see the rest of the team still slumped on the ground, Bruce included. He looked back at Tony. “Shouldn't – I mean, didn't you want to do this with Bruce?”
Tony frowned. “I'm asking you, aren't I?”
“Yeah, but –“ Steve didn't really know how to put it into words, but Tony's eyes shuttered before he could, his smile turning into something plastic.
“Okay, no problem. I'll go ask someone else.”
Tony turned to leave, and Steve didn't even think before he reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back. The startled look on Tony's face made him freeze for a second, but when Tony's eyes met his the words burst forth anyway.
“I'd love to be your partner,” he blurted, blinking as the meaning of that sank in – and suddenly it all crashed down on him, the reason why he'd been so bothered by Bruce's closeness to Tony, why he'd been making such a fool of himself ever since that night.
Steve always turned to Tony, didn't he? They hadn't had the best start, that was true, but they'd made leaps and bounds since then, getting to know each other and becoming friends. Steve valued Tony's council just as much as he enjoyed his ramblings at four in the morning, when his blood consisted of ninety percent coffee and he grinned like he didn't have a care in the world. No one could deny that Tony was attractive, Steve had noticed that as soon as he'd laid eyes on him, but not many saw how much Tony cared, how willingly he sacrificed himself to lift others up. Tony was the full package, charismatic, intelligent, loving and kind. And apparently Steve had been too blind to see that somewhere along the line he'd fallen for him like a ton of bricks.
That damn game had only bothered him so much because he'd wanted Tony to choose him. Not out of some sort of vanity but because Steve had already chosen Tony. Because he could see himself at his side. Because he wanted Tony at his side.
“Steve?”
He blinked back to reality to find Tony staring at him, his brow furrowed with concern.
“Are you okay?”
He was still holding Tony's arm, he noticed. Instead of letting him go Steve pulled Tony even closer when he realized that the last time he'd felt anything like this he'd promised to meet at the Stork Club while he was preparing himself for imminent death and he'd ended up missing his shot –
“I'd like to take you out to dance.”
Tony blinked. “I – what?”
“A date,” Steve specified, his heart pounding in his chest because Tony looked absolutely shellshocked, like he couldn't even compute what Steve was saying. But Steve couldn't take it back now. “I think I'd really like that. If you want to.”
It took several seconds for Tony to do so much as blink in the silence around them. Steve glanced over at the team who all quickly turned away, as if they hadn't been staring at them this whole time. In hindsight, maybe Steve should've done this somewhere else.
“You...” Steve looked back at Tony who swallowed hard enough that Steve could see his throat bob. “You want to date me?”
“Only if you want. I know this is kind of sudden,” Steve said, a little awkwardly, and Tony stared at him for a couple more seconds before his chin jerked down in a nod.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Hope bloomed in Steve's chest when Tony nodded again, a little more firmly this time.
“This is... I mean, I didn't think –“ Tony cleared his throat. “It's a little unexpected.”
“I'm sorry,” Steve said, but Tony shook his head.
“No, it's – This is good. A good thing. I think?”
He sounded unsure, and Steve couldn't stop himself from leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Tony's cheek. There was an audible gasp from somewhere behind them, but Steve chose to ignore that in favor of smiling at Tony's incredulous face.
“I think so too.”
There was a moment where they just looked at each other as the reality of what this meant sunk in. Then Tony smirked, and Steve only had a second to think 'Oh shit' before Tony threw his arms around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth, digging his fingers into Steve's hair. The wolf whistle could only have come from Clint, but Steve couldn't care less as he held on to Tony's hips as tightly as he dared, his head spinning with how hard Tony was kissing him, no hesitation at all.
He couldn't tell how long it lasted, only that when they finally pulled apart he felt hot all over, his breath coming short and staggered and his chest filled with a joy that eclipsed everything else. The grin on Tony's face was absolutely devilish.
“Go for broke when you can, right, Cap?”
Steve couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of him before he leaned down and kissed the smug smirk right off Tony's face, tipping him backwards so Tony was off-balance, only held up by Steve's grip on him. The gasp Tony made at that was incredibly satisfying.
“Yeah,” Tony breathed into the scant space between them. “This is good. This is definitely good.”
Steve shut him up with another kiss.