Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Fury said, fixing each Avenger with his gaze as it traveled across the small office room, “I don’t think I need to impress upon you the severity of the situation. The fact is,” he continued with a hint of a frown, “That we remain at code amber. The fact is…”

That was when the glazed look came into his eye; it could almost have been the heat of the room. He shook it off an instant later. “The fact is, that we…that we are…are…well.”

Clint glanced at Tony.

“We are in a meeting. 140 characters is not enough to fully express my boredom.”

His addressees continued to look at him, each wearing a fresh note of confusion on their faces; none more so than Fury himself.

“Just made oatmeal,” Fury added, before an immense expression of disgust passed over his face. “wth was that all about? remind me not to use internet while  high lol.”

He was at his feet in an instant, glaring around the room.

Steve raised his finger. “I wondered what exactly was going on.”

Steve, too, got a look on his face like he’d just eaten a dog biscuit.

“I looked straight at Thor,” Tony cut in, “Knowing full well that Asgardians were renowned for this brand of batshit.”

Thor looked puzzled. “The sincerest apologies of the realm of Asgard. I must profess no knowledge of this unexplored phenomenon. What is oatmeal?”

“The Mighty Arrow seconded Tony’s allegation and patiently waited for someone to foreshadow the resolution of what would hopefully be a brief but fresh subplot. Um, what. What,” Clint said. “What is happening?”

“I looked at Tony for an explanation, as usual,” Steve said, “Since it’s normally his calamities getting us all mixed up. Oh. Sorry. Sorry, Tony.”

“I took no offense, grateful for the attention and somewhat pleased to be a driving force of entertainment in the group. That’s not even true.”

“The Mighty Arrow was not in the least bit surprised at Tony admitting to being an attention-whore.”

“Dear V,
A funny thing happened today. Everyone started talking like they were characters in a book. Clint called himself the Mighty Arrow. He didn’t seem as embarrassed as he should be.
Regards,
Natasha.”

“Let’s get #TheMightyArrow trending!!!1” Fury added. Looking horrified at himself, he picked up the phone and dialed a three. “@MariaHill. Shit’s going down in the conference room.”

“The Mighty Thor does not stoop to this level! He has fought many a war greater than this and triumphed time and time again!”

“‘This isn’t fair!’  I blurted. ‘Thor speaks like this all the damn time anyway!’”

“Tony frowned at himself,” Steve said, “Taken aback at verbalizing the tags to his own speech.”

“I am certain of my brother’s involvement in this trickery. I shall call Heimdall with haste. Please remain in this chamber,” Thor said, making for the door.

“I thought, at the time, that there was a fat fucking chance of that,” Tony said. “Especially not considering who was in there, and knowing what I might be about to shut the fuck up Tony. Shut up. I said, repeatedly, in an attempt to slow the inevitable. Oh my god, shut the fuck up. Shit.”

“Dear V,
This just got interesting.
Regards,
Natasha.”

“@BlackWidow I DM’d you.”

“My heart began to thud ever faster. It wouldn’t have bothered me in the slightest. I speak my mind. I just didn’t want - didn’t want anything to change.” Tony clamped his hand over his jaw then instantly withdrew it. “Does anyone want to gag me?” He shook his head, hard, before saying “There was nothing I enjoyed more than visits from, or conversations with, Steve Rogers.”

There was a pause throughout the room as Steve looked up at Tony.

It was, of course, Clint who broke it. “The Mighty Arrow was slightly surprised at Tony admitting to being Steve’s attention-whore.”

Tony, busy stammering and stuttering in an attempt to stem the flow of words, stood up to as though to make for the door.

Clint grabbed his arm. “Oh no, you don’t. The Mighty Arrow wants to hear this.”

“Dear V,” Natasha began; then, with a look of concentration, the rest came out in Russian.

Tony scowled at her. Evidently, that broke his own focus, as more words came bursting out the gaps between his fingers. “Perfection lived and breathed in the form of Steve Rogers,” he gasped.

The look on his face was somewhere between mortification and the expression of someone about to be thrown into lava.

He punched Clint, hard, in the arm.

Clint clearly did not care. “Plot twist! Plot twist plot twist plot twist! Such The Mighty Arrow wisely interjected.”

“His fair, soft skin always flushed so easily, begging to be touched. His smile was the stuff of dreams - a flash of pearls beneath the plump cushions of his lips. His voice was an angel’s quartet on the strings, and his eyes, oh, his eyes, azure and glinting, sparkling in the slowly setting sun, dark beneath eyelashes fluttering like the wings of a majestic butterfly. He was beautiful, and it was little more than a reflection of how truly good he was inside. His body, too, was…” Tony rambled, and might have ripped his own tongue out several times had Clint not kindly intervened. Now, though, he was making odd gagging sounds, as though attempting to choke himself on it instead. “I ached for him to undress me, to lay me down in his bed and whisper sweetly in my - in my - in my ear, as his hands, large, carved by the gods, glide down my body to my-“

Here he slapped himself in the face, leaving his cheek scarlet, and said “Shit, fuck, fuck, FUCK it, no…”

Clint, again, was the only one to speak in the unbearable, solid stillness of the room. “The Mighty Arrow did not know what to make of his teammate’s admission of a gay crush, except that it was pretty fucking hilarious.”

“I wondered if The Mighty Cockhead might know what to make of my fist,” Tony managed in response, out of breath.

“The Mighty Arrow didn’t know about that, but thought that Steve sure would.”

“Tony,” said Steve.

“Said Steve,” said Clint, “Looking like he was about to come in his pants.”

Steve’s ears turned a darker shade of red. “I politely informed Barton that if he didn’t shut up, he was about to lose a finger.”

“The Mighty Arrow refrained from making any further comments about that part of the anatomy. He did, however, look at the pair of them suggestively and waggle his eyebrows.”

“Steve looked stunning. Scintillating. His cheeks and neck were pink as petals. I longed to tear open his shirt and see where the rosy flush led, to press my lips to the silk of his skin and watch the pink bloom, to bite into his reddened lips and feel his strong arms twine around me, assuring me that everything was going to be…alright, fine, Loki, we get it - I’m gay for Steve, alright, fine, really gay, but not this gay - come on!”

“I couldn’t stop staring at Tony. How could I not have known? How could I…when I…” Steve clamped his hands over his mouth, but some invisible force seemed to draw them away again. “When I’d been in love with him longer than I could remember?”

“Oh my god,” shouted Clint. “Oh my god!” He shook his head in utter disbelief. “Shouted the Mighty Arrow.”

“Nick Fury favorited this.”

Steve and Tony were busy staring at each other, faces bright red, while everyone else stared at them in a similar state, when Thor marked his arrival by nearly shoving the door off its hinges. He was leading Loki by the ear. “What say you to all this, brother?”

“A million and one things, my friend. Perhaps I’ll begin with, ‘you're welcome’.”

“I loudly proclaimed Loki the biggest asshole known to the human race, myself included.”

“I humbly suggested Tony might be thanking him later.”

“The Mighty Arrow humbly suggested Tony might have the biggest asshole to known to the human race, later.” Tony punched him again. “Ow. The Mighty Arrow really wanted to know how to get this to stop before he got hit again, or had to hear more explicit, homoerotic fantasies.”

Thor swept round. “Well, Loki? You’ve had your fun - now end this madness and lift this curse!”

“Oh, brother, it brings me sweet sorrow to inform you that such a task is not so easily completed.”

“What do you mean?” At least three people asked, Tony adding an expletive.

Loki turned to him slowly, a smile on his face. “A narrative spell is potent - more revealing, more destructive even than a charm of truth, in both its mode and its strength for observation.”

“You mean to wreak mayhem among my friends’ honorable clan? Brother,” Thor said, the rumble of coming thunder in his voice, “Your attempts to sow seeds of doubt and distrust are pitiful; fruitless. You should feel ashamed.”

“I refuse to apologise for opening your pathetic friends’ eyes to what they truly are.”

“@xoxoLOKiOFFiCiALxoxo selfie of how not impressed I am. http://tinyurl.com/kx6sjz7”

Loki smiled. “Well, perhaps not everyone’s eyes can be opened.” He turned back to Thor. “The spell can only be broken by true love’s kiss, brother.”

Thor’s frown occupied the intervening moments before Fury spoke again.

“@Thor Why is there no instagram filter called ‘burning fire of hades’?”

“THE MIGHTY ARROW YELLED AT EVERYBODY TO MAKE OUT WITH EVERYBODY UNTIL IT STOPPED.”

“@BlackWidow haha he totally didn’t see that coming. You the man. #Stealthkisses.”

“True love?” Said Thor. “Well, I truly love my brother.”

“Thor?” Loki returned, what little color he had in his face quickly draining. “Brother - brother, no -“

Natasha broke away, gasping. “Did it work?” She asked. “…Oh, thank god.”

Thor also pulled back, leaving the God of Mischief wide-eyed and speechless, then sharply tugged on Loki’s arm. “You and I are going to have words.” He dragged him out of the room.

Clint looked at Natasha, dazed. “Hey. Wow. Been a while. Yeah. Hey. Want to bang?”

Natasha gave him a tight smile. “Only if The Mighty Arrow wants to be tied up.”

“Hell yes. Hey, who’s V?”

“And gagged, too? If you insist.”

Fury cleared his throat and they span around.

To see Steve in Tony’s lap, tongue in his mouth, moaning softly.

Tony, whose face was pinned but whose arms remained unrestrained, gave them a shrug and an apologetic gesture before flapping his hand to usher them out of the room.

The remaining three exited as though pursued by a bear.