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Pumpkin Bumpkin
May was suddenly and acutely aware of how lucky they were that Tony had forced them to get together. “Did you seriously try and set them up over pumpkin soup?” she asked, disbelieving.
“How was I supposed to know that Steve didn’t like pumpkin?” Pepper asked, voice muffled by the couch she was lying on.
“He has literally said that they’re only good for carving,” May pointed out.
Pepper let out a bellowing noise. It almost drowned out Tony’s shouts as he called Steve every name in the book for one, insulting his pumpkin soup recipe; two, having no taste whatsoever in produce; and three, for being a smarmy asshole who had banished him from court. May was impressed, because Tony shouted pretty loudly.
“If I eat the soup, will you stop yelling at me?” Steve asked when Tony stopped to take a breath.
“Oh no,” May said as Tony stopped to stare at him, outraged, and wasn’t surprised when Tony grabbed the tureen of soup and dumped it over his head before stomping out of the house.
She frowned after him. It looked like there were tears in his eyes. He’d probably insist they were from anger, but May knew better. Tony had looked so hopeful when Pepper had said she’d secured a date and he should make his special pumpkin soup. He’d wanted so badly for the night to go well.
“Fae are just… the worst,” May said.
Pepper bellowed into couch again.
“Do you have a towel?” Steve asked, wiping soup from his eyes.
“I’m giving you a pass because you don’t like pumpkin but I’m still mad at you for hurting Tony’s feelings,” May said, grabbing a towel from the laundry she was folding and tossing it to him.
Steve patted soup from his face. “I don’t try to hurt his feelings,” he said mournfully.
“Maybe you should stop being a butthead,” Peter told him helpfully.
Steve scowled at him. “I could curse you, young man.”
May opened her mouth to tell him that Tony threatened Peter with that all the time and so he was unafraid, but Pepper was on her feet before she could say anything, letting out an unholy screeching noise as she howled, “DON’T YOU TOUCH HIM.”
Steve jerked back in surprise, then took a step toward her, baring his teeth. “If you hadn’t cursed Tony to begin with, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”
“Oh, so it’s my fault?!” Pepper exclaimed.
“Babe,” May said gently. “You told me it was your fault.”
“If the Rogers could take a fucking joke—” Pepper began.
“WE HAD UNSEELIE GUESTS,” Steve bellowed.
May didn’t know what that meant, but the blood immediately drained out of Pepper’s face, so she assumed it was bad. “You could bake Tony a cake,” she suggested, instead of delving into fae politics.
“Tony likes chocolate peanut butter!” Peter added, enthused.
Steve stared at them, bewildered. “And you think that’ll work?”
“He likes cake,” May offered.
“And diamonds!” Peter continued happily.
“Peter,” May sputtered, trying not to laugh, but Steve was looking thoughtful even as he disappeared with a shimmer.
Steve actually baked diamonds into the fucking cake, but Tony looked cautiously delighted. Fae were the absolute worst.