Chapter Text
“No,” Natasha said, her voice firm. “There is no way in hell I am kissing Vision.” Everyone stared at her and Vision, trapped in some sort of invisible barrier.
“I’m afraid that it’s not really a choice,” Dr. Strange said, stepping forward, and if Tony didn’t know better, he’d say that the wizard was smiling .
“I said,” Natasha repeated, her voice sharp, her eyes fixed on Strange, “I am not kissing vision. He has a girlfriend. and I'm not about to kiss something that Tony made.”
“Hey!” Tony protested from his spot on the stairs. “You kissed that sword I made you!”
Natasha shrugged a shoulder, her shimmery red dress shifting a little. It matched her new hair.
“Get us out,” she ordered.
Strange merely shrugged, and now Tony was sure he was hallucinating, because that was definitely a smile on his face. “Sorry, Ms. Romanoff, but there’s only one way you get out of there.”
“C’mon Nat, you’ve already kissed 2 of us, one more isn’t gonna kill you,” Tony teased from his place on the stairs.
Natasha glared at him. She mumbled furiously in Russian, her discomfort obvious. “Goddamn,” she finally bit out, grabbing Vision and giving him a quick peck on the lips. She shook her head, disgusted, as she stepped out of the circle she’d been previously stuck in. The mistletoe above them started glowing, and a second later, a glowing 23% popped up in the air.
“What the hell is that?” she asked.
“Your compatibility percentage,” Strange replied.
Natasha shot him a dirty look and stalked off, muttering something about “fucking magic” and “fucking wizards.”
Tony stood and quickly stepped down from his place on the stairs, going to inspect the mistletoe. It was hung maybe 7 feet or so above the ground, high enough that anyone unsuspecting would miss it.
“So this is,” Tony said, waving his hand up at it, “Magic?”
"Yes.”
“Why? Wow does it work?”
“That is beyond you,” Strange replied, turning to look at him. “And as for why, I suggest you take that up with Wong.”
Tony lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. He didn’t really care why, he just thought it was interesting. A plant could predict people’s compatibility. Weird.
The next couple to get stuck in the mistletoe’s weird force barrier was Bucky and Clint.
“Hey! this shouldn’t be possible. I’m not a dame,” Bucky complained, his hair tied up in a short ponytail.
Strange merely shrugged. “The mistletoe doesn’t take into account gender. If it had, Vision wouldn’t have been trapped by it. Anyone with any possibility of romantic potential is under the power of the spell.”
“Great,” Clint mumbled. “I’ve got romantic potential with a 100 year old man.”
“97,” Bucky corrected, giving Clint a quick punch.
They both stared nervously at each other for a second before Clint shook his head and went “Whatever,” stepping in and quickly kissing Bucky. the kiss lasted longer than Nat’s and Vision’s had, Tony noted.
They seperated, refusing to make eye contact, but when Bucky made to step out of the invisible barrier, the mistletoe glowed red and gently pushed him back.
“What the hell? Strange, this better not be some sort of joke.”
Strange smiled then, and Tony swore that it looked almost devious. “The mistletoe was unable to gather a correct reading with the kiss. You’re going to have to do it again.”
“Are you kidding me?” Clint mumbled, a growl in his throat.
“What the hell,” Bucky declared, grabbing Clint’s face with both hands and kissing him roughly. Tony felt a little strange watching his teammates kiss each other, especially since they both kind of seemed like they were enjoying it, Clint’s hand tangled in Bucky’s hair.
Eventually they broke apart, breathing heavier, and the mistletoe let them out.
“66%?!” Clint said, when the mistletoe cast up their romantic compatibility in big glowing red numbers.
“That’s the compatibility of most married couples,” Strange remarked. “Impressive.” He turned and floated off, leaving Bucky and Clint spluttering.
After a few more incidents, it became a sort of game, to see who could beat Clint and Bucky.
So far, they were unbeaten.
Surprisingly, they’d discovered that cheek kisses counted, but only for certain people. Bruce had already stumbled into the mistletoe 4 times, but each time the plant had let whoever he was stuck with out with a cheek kiss. There’d been glowing blue numbers for those interactions, instead of red ones. Bruce just shrugged at Tony when he’d asked.
“Never really felt that way,” he’d offered up as an explanation. Tony’d simply shrugged then suggested a new experiment they run up in the lab.
Two days before christmas, a total of 4 couples got stuck in the mistletoe’s trap.
Clint and Rhodey had a romantic potential of 12%, the lowest one yet. Tony had to admit, watching his best friend kiss Clint was one of the grossest things he’d ever seen in his life. And he'd seen Justin Hammer, so that was saying something.
T’challa and Bucky had a 48%, the fourth highest.
Even Strange himself had forgotten and been forced to kiss Sam, which left both parties very disgruntled and uncomfortable. They had a 51%, which was surprisingly high, in Tony’s opinion.
Scott had wandered into it with Hope and they claimed the highest score, a 72%.
Tony had simply been watching with fascination. Strange still wouldn’t explain how the mistletoe worked, but it did make for pretty good entertainment.
On Christmas Eve, Tony was sitting on the stairs again, looking up at it. All the Avengers had gotten stuck by now, save for him and Steve. Steve was off on some mission with SHIELD, but he’d be coming in for Christmas.
Tony was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice when Natasha pushed open the heavy oak doors and padded up to him on the stairs.
She sat next to him, smiling ruefully at the mistletoe. “I hate that thing.”
“Can’t say I hold that against you, Romanoff.”
Natasha tilted her head and chuckled slightly at that. “Tony?”
“Yes, dear?"
“Is there any reason you’ve been staring at this godforsaken plant for 2 hours now?”
“I haven’t-”
“Yes, you have,” Natasha said, her tone light.
Tony shrugged. “It’s interesting.”
“Mhm,” Natasha hummed, in a way that made Tony think she didn’t believe him.
“What?”
“Well...I was just wondering if you were thinking of something? Or someone?”
Tony turned to look at her then, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”
“You’re the only one who hasn’t been near that stupid plant, but you keep standing here, sitting here. It’s almost like you’re waiting,” Natasha said, a smirk on her face.
Tony huffed. “Right. I’m sitting here, waiting for someone. What am I, a 13 year old girl?”
Nat shrugged, and put her hand on Tony’s shoulder as she stood up.
“Wanting something, or someone, isn’t always a bad thing, Tony,” she said, her voice surprisingly soft. Tony shook his head, but accepted her hand as she pulled him up.
“Now, enough of the moping. Strange has this drink, it’s actually really good,” Nat called over her shoulder, holding the heavy oak door open for tony.
He rolled his eyes as he followed her into the kitchen. "You're drinking something Strange made? You realize his last name is Strange right? You trust that?"