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Steve stared up at Avenger’s Tower, glittering in the late afternoon light that filtered through the tall buildings of New York, and gulped. Hard. People bustled around the little island Steve, Sam, and Bucky made in the middle of the sidewalk, throwing them dirty looks and unkind comments. It wasn’t until some grouchy middle-aged businessman got all up in Steve’s face, yelling at him and flipping him off, that he gathered himself and walked to the clean glass doors separating the lobby from the outside world. Sam and Bucky followed him wordlessly, the apprehension visible in each of their shoulders.
The lobby was just as packed with the constant flow of people as the sidewalk. The trio carefully picked their way through, skirting along the glass wall towards where Tony had said the Tower occupants’ elevator was. Following his instructions, they weaved through fast-walking business people talking on their cell phones and past the more populated elevator to a quieter one hidden further back behind a fake wall. It seemed that Tony wasn’t as much of a liar as Sam had expected- he had thought a hidden elevator in a busy office building was a bit much, even for Tony Stark.
Steve didn’t even have to press the button before the doors slid open.
“Welcome, Captain Rogers,” Jarvis said as they entered the elevator.
“Hey, Jarvis,” Steve replied easily. “Where’s Tony?” He turned to see Bucky’s confused face behind him. “That’s Jarvis: Tony created him to run the house,” Steve said, summarizing his forgotten explanation from earlier.
“Sir is in his workshop. Would you like me to inform him that you have arrived?”
“You can, but why don’t you just take us to the workshop?”
Jarvis paused before answering. “Sir has strict instructions about individuals who are allowed access the lab, and your companions do not have clearance.”
Steve looked around at Sam and Bucky, and a great idea came to him. “How about... Bucky and Sam promise to stay in the elevator, as long as you keep the door open, and I’ll come back when I’m done talking to Tony.”
“... There is nothing in my protocols prohibiting such an action... Sergeants Wilson and Barnes would have to reassure that they will not try to enter Sir’s workshop.”
Sam spoke first. “I, Sam Wilson, swear not to even try to set foot in Tony Stark’s crazy-ass lab without his express permission. Does that work?”
“Yes, that response is adequate. Thank you Sgt. Wilson,” Jarvis said as the elevator slowed to a stop.
Steve had to nudge Bucky before he would speak. “And I, Bucky Barnes, promise never to go into Tony’s lab. Ever.”
“Unless we make you,” Steve added jokingly.
“Nope. Not even then,” Bucky said in all seriousness. “And now that Jarvis has my statement, I’ll have a reason never to go into that awful place.”
“That is technically correct, Sergeant Barnes. Thank you for your statement,” Jarvis said as the elevator doors opened with a quiet ding.
Tony had obviously forgotten about his earlier conversation with Steve. The lab was so cluttered that Steve didn’t see Tony at first glance, his form hidden among mountains of half welded metal piled precariously on the tables and anything he was saying drowned out by the loud rock music blaring from the speakers.
“Jarvis,” Steve said in a mildly irritated voice. “Turn down the music.”
Jarvis did as he was told, which caused Tony to look up and change topics mid sentence.
“-and the next time you do that, Dummy, I swear I’m gonna-HEY! What gives, Jarvis? Gimme back my AC/DC!”
“Hi Tony.” Steve said as he walked further into the mechanical engineering explosion that was the workshop.
“Steve? Did you turn off my music?” Tony asked indignantly.
“Jarvis did, technically. Look, I know I just got here, and I mean just. You haven’t even said hi yet. But I need a favor.”
“Whether I can deliver or not all depends on what kind of favor it is,” Tony said with a sly smile. “Hi, by the way.”
Steve allowed himself a brief smile before continuing. “We need somewhere to stay. Or, well, they do, because I’ve already decided to stay here whether you want me to or not.”
“You don’t have that kind of power,” Tony said.
“Of course I do. Jarvis has it on record that you offered me an open invitation to stay - that means you can’t un-invite me.”
“Oh, I can always un-invite you. Especially since Jarvis is my AI. And I will definitely un-invite you if you bring people to my workshop without asking me first!”
“But I did ask you, Tony. On that same phone call when I told you I was coming. The phone call that you obviously forgot about.”
“I did not forget!”
“Then why’s your lab such a mess? I bet my floor isn’t even ready yet.”
“I don’t clean my lab for anyone, you should know that. And, contrary to popular opinion, I can’t forget to put together the Avengers’ floors, cause I didn’t even do it myself!” Upon seeing Steve’s somewhat disapproving look, Tony adds, “I probably shouldn’t have said that.
“You think?” Steve asked with a patronizingly arched eyebrow. “Tony, be reasonable. They’re my friends, and they just need somewhere to stay. Nothing bad will happen if you let them stay here, I swear.”
“Oh, you swear. And what if something bad happens anyway? Cause I know fate doesn’t always abide by the promises of Captain America.”
“Tony, that’s not the point!”
“Well I don’t like what your point is. How do I know they’re not spies trying to infiltrate my building to plant an explosive and take us all out? Not that things would ever get that far – Jarvis would know and I would eliminate the threat before that could happen, but still!”
“The best option you have is to let them introduce themselves, okay? But they can’t very well do that when they’re stuck in the elevator, so I’ll give you a brief intro. Sam Wilson,” Steve said, gesturing towards Sam, “is an ex-pararescue, served two tours in the Middle East, and is now a PTSD group leader at the VA. He helped me take down the SHIELD helicarriers, thanks to his Falcon suit.”
“That’s Falcon?” Tony asked incredulously. “Still not a fan of what you did to my helicarriers, by the way. Definitely not cool.” He paused. “But your wings are. Who’s the other one.”
“That’s Bucky Barnes. He was my friend back in the old days, but after he fell in the Alps, the Russians got him and turned him into their own personal killing machine. He’s a trained assassin, but since he came off the ridiculous cocktail of drugs they force fed him, he’s been back to normal. Or, at least, as normal as you can get, but the main point is that he’s not going to go around killing people.”
Tony thinks for a second before answering. “So, you bring two violent people, one helicarrier/dream killer and one ex-Russian assassin with the same youthful look that you have for being like 100, and expect me to just accept them into my newly rebuilt home? You’re crazy,” he scoffed.
“Come on, Tony, we’ve got no where else to go.”
“Seriously, Steve? I am not starting some halfway house for down-on-their-luck people-who-Steve-thinks-might-one-day-be-superheroes in my new tower! It’s just not happening!”
“What are we supposed to do? SHIELD’s gone, which means the only people protecting the world now live in this tower. I want to be here too, to help you guys, but I can’t stay if you’re not going to accept them too! Besides, the ex-assassin thing shouldn’t be a problem – we already house Natasha here, and she’s barely an ex-assassin.”
Tony nodded, “I’ll give you that.”
“Mr. Stark? If I may,” Sam said from his cage of an elevator. “We’re not planning on taking anything from your workshop. The only stuff we may end up taking is your food, but we can pay for that too, if you want. We just need somewhere to stay for a bit while we finish getting Bucky acclimated to the modern world and while I find a better paying job. That’s it.”
“Wait, that’s what you think I’m worried about? Money?” Tony scoffed again. “Fine you can stay, but you can’t pay me money to stay here. That makes me feel like I’m running a motel and I’m not down with that.”
Whether Tony meant what he said or not, Steve grinned and gave him a big hug, which cemented his answer either way. “Thank you,” Steve whispered in Tony’s ear.
“Crushing. Me,” Tony said as he patted Steve’s back.
Steve laughed, and released his hold on him, leaning down for a quick kiss on Tony’s lips before turning and heading back to the elevator.
“You’ve all gotta show up for the tower meeting in the living room at 7! Otherwise you’re out on the street by midnight,” Tony called after him.
“Sounds like I’ll see you at 7, then,” Steve said with a wink as the elevator doors closed. “Alright, Jarvis, you know where to go.”
“Yes, Captain Rogers,” Jarvis said as the elevator rose one floor. “Your living quarters,” he said as the doors slid open again.
Bucky almost doubled over laughing when he saw the room in front of him, barely more hysterical than Steve or Sam. Tony had obviously redecorated since Steve had last been on his floor the day Tony presented it to him. The floor was decked out in red, white, and blue everywhere they looked. The throw rugs laid across the red-varnished hardwood floors in the living area were patterned with the American flag, the paintings on the wall were abstracts with the same color combination, and even the magnets on the fridge all had American flags on them somewhere.
The three of them dragged their bags out of the elevator, dropping them unceremoniously on the dark tile floor of the entryway.
“Well,” Bucky said as he tried unsuccessfully to get his laughter under control. “This decor is... Wow.”
“Very Captain America,” Sam said jokingly, trying to silence his own laughter and failing miserably.
“Yeah, it’s a running joke of Tony’s. When we first met, he associated me with patriotism and nothing else. Obviously, we’ve moved on from that, but he still brings it up occasionally.”
“Okay.” Sam said, and after a pause. “Do we get to redecorate?”
Steve laughed again. “Yeah, we can redecorate. I forgot how bad this looked,” he said, mostly to himself. “No, I don’t think this ever looked this much like America threw up on it before. He must have paid someone special to come in and decorate it. Probably Clint,” he mused.
“Clint?” Sam asked, “Like Clint Barton?”
“Yeah, Clint Barton. Are you surprised? This is just his sense of humor.”
“The America part or the arrangement of the fridge magnets into a dick shape?” Bucky asked from the kitchen.
“Well, I’m assuming Tony told him to use “patriotic colors,” but definitely the dick. And the money – he’ll do anything for some extra cash.”
“Why?” Sam asked from whatever hallway intersected the living room. “He lives here for free, and doesn’t Stark pay for everything else?”
“Yeah, I don’t know why he likes making his own money, and taking other people’s, but he does. I guess that’s just his thing,” Steve said as he walked around the expansive living room. He opened the cabinet next to the flat screen television, and heaved a sigh of relief. Thankfully, Clint’s Americanization of his floor hadn’t applied to his movie collection, which included several different languages. He did notice that Clint had added a few titles he hadn’t heard of before on the bottom shelf, including National Treasure and some documentary called America the Beautiful.
“Find anything good?” Steve called out across the floor, as both Sam and Bucky had disappeared.
“Fully stocked with food,” Sam called from… Wherever Clint or Tony had decided to put the food. He hoped it was the pantry or the fridge, but he didn’t think they would be that lucky.
“We have the best shower curtain I’ve ever seen!” Bucky called excitedly from what Steve assumed was the bathroom. “It’s pattern has huge-ass maps of America all over it.”
“Shower curtain?” Steve asked. “Last time I was here there was a shower door.”
“Yeah, the curtain’s hung in front of the door. Pretty pointlessly, I might add. Do you think that was Stark?”
“My guess would be Clint,” Steve called back as he walked down the hall, following Bucky’s voice and trying to remember where the bathroom actually was.
When he got there, Bucky was still laughing. Steve just stood there in awe that such a monstrosity could exist. He couldn’t blame Bucky, though, it was a pretty hilarious shower curtain. Not only was the map of America patterned all over it, but it was also completely red, white, and blue. Sam came in behind Steve, and doubled over laughing.
“I bet - I bet they designed it personally,” Sam said through peals of laughter. “Can I take a picture?” Steve nodded. “Oh, this is SO going on Instagram.”
Bucky stopped laughing. “Come on, man, I wanted to post it!” he complained.
“Sucks to suck,” Sam replied with a smirk, snapping a picture with his cell phone and immediately posting it.
Thus began the Instagram war between Sam and Bucky. Their mission: get the most likes on a picture they took of Steve’s crazy-ass American decor. While they ran around taking pictures of everything and struggling to come up with witty captions, Steve went to their rooms and unpacked the suitcases. He kept a couple t-shirts and boxers in his bag to bring up to Tony’s room later, though he was sure Tony already had clothes there for him.
Before long, it was time to head up to the top floor - the living room/kitchen floor - for their team meeting. Steve thought it was a little ridiculous that they had an entire floor to use as a living room instead of just a regular living room, but he’d gotten somewhat used to Tony’s over the top ideas on housing the past year or so. He didn’t really want to tell him about his little apartment in DC, or Sam’s house, because Tony would freak out about him staying somewhere with less than 3,000 square feet.
“Alright, Jarivs,” Steve said as they climbed into the elevator right at 7, “Take us to the meeting.”
“Yes, sir” the AI responded as the elevator lifted them a few floors.
Everyone sitting on the leather couches in the living room turned when they heard the elevator ding open.
“Hey, you brought the boys,” Natasha said with a smile. She was sitting more or less in Pepper’s lap, feet dangling off the side of the couch. Most of the occupants of the tower were there, all dressed in t-shirts and sweats, which was fairly off-putting for Sam, who had only seen most of them pictures where they were wearing their full uniforms.
Steve led the way out of the elevator wearing a somewhat sheepish smile. “Hi, Nat. For those of you who don’t know, these are my friends, Sam and Bucky,” he said, motioning to each in turn.
“Kay,” Clint said from the opposite side of the couch as Natasha and Pepper, taking another swig of his beer.
“Welcome to the tower,” Bruce said with a warm smile, turning on his stool by the counter to face them.
“Where’s Thor? And Tony?” Steve asked, making his way to the empty couch and sitting down.
“Thor has things to take care of on Asgard, so he hasn’t been here much. We actually don’t know when he’ll be back,” Bruce informed him as Bucky and Sam sat down on either side of Steve.
“And Tony is where he always is. He probably forgot we had a meeting,” Pepper said, a trace of old resentment lingering in her tone.
Steve sighed, “I’ll go get him.” But before he could stand up, the elevator doors slid open and in waltzed Tony Stark holding an overflowing bag of Chinese food, delicious scents wafting from him.
“Finally!” Clint exclaimed, jumping up and nearly running to grab the bag from Tony as he stepped out of the elevator. “I’ve been waiting for this all day.”
“We didn’t tell you we were getting Chinese until an hour and a half ago,” Natasha called from the couch.
“I wait for dinner all day. I just didn’t know it was going to be such a fantastic dinner until you told me an hour and a half ago,” Clint said matter-of-factly.
Steve laughed. “Obviously.”
Clint flipped him off when he put down the bag on the coffee table in between the couches. He immediately spread out the contents of the bag across the table, grabbed a pair of chopsticks, and started opening them all. He seemed to be looking for something specific, because he made frustrated sounds with each top he opened until he opened a box containing…
“What is that?” Sam asked warily.
“Chicken feet,” said Natasha, wearing a slightly repulsed expression as Clint moaned in happiness chewing his first massive bite right out of the container.
“Don’t bash it ‘til you try it,” he said, mouth still half full when he shoveled another bite in.
“I’ll bash it and I’ve never tried it,” Tony said as he came in from the kitchen with a glass of scotch in his hand. “It smells disgusting and I cannot believe I still buy it. All for you,” he said, completely missing the disapproving look Steve was giving him.
Just before he sat down, Tony caught sight of Sam and Bucky, and stood again. “I forgot my manners, do you guys want something to drink?”
Sam started to say, “Yeah, actua-“ when Tony cut him off.
“Go find it yourself. You live here now, that’s what everyone else does. Everything you could ever want’s either in the fridge or behind the bar. Go nuts,” Tony said with a smirk.
“Oh… kay,” Sam said as he stood up and went the direction Tony had just come from, hoping it led him to the right place. As soon as Sam’s back was turned, Tony swooped his seat and slung his arm around Steve.
“Get me a beer,” Clint called after Sam.
“So, big guy, how’ve you been?” he asked, taking a larger-than-usual gulp of scotch.
“Well, as you all should know by now, SHIELD was full of HYDRA operatives, and Nat, Sam, and I took it out.”
Before he could continue any further, Natasha interrupted him. “Steve, I’ve already told them that much. Tell them other… More relevant things.”
“Uh, okay. Since the helicarrier incident, I was in the hospital, then out of the hospital, then tracking down Bucky, then rehabilitating Bucky. We came here because Sam and I have things to do saving the world with you guys, and Bucky’s no longer going to freak out in a big city environment.” Bucky gave him a strange look, knowing that he would have been fine if they’d come a week ago, and it was Steve who couldn’t work up the nerve to call Tony to tell him they were coming. “What about you guys?” Steve asked, quickly changing the subject as Sam reentered the room, holding a beer in each hand. He passed one to Clint, and sat down in the armchair between the couches.
Seeing that no one else was going to do it, Pepper pushed Natasha gently off her lap and stood up, muttering, “I’ll be the mature one. Again. We need plates in here all the time.” Natasha whined a little as she left, but not excessively. She still had her dignity.
“Well, a lot has happened since we last spoke,” Bruce spoke first, picking up stir fry vegetables and a set of chopsticks, sitting on the arm of the couch next to Clint. “Tony and I’ve done lots of science-y stuff that I’ve been told not to bore you with, and Tony moved permanently to New York.”
“Permanently?” Sam asked. “What happened to that sick-ass house in Malibu?”
“What planet have you been on?” Tony asked with an air of disbelief. “It got blown to smithereens over a year ago. With Pepper and me inside it,” he said, gesturing to her as she walked back in the room with a stack of plates and actual silverware.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Steve said. “You were inside it? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Oooooooo, busted,” Clint crowed.
“It didn’t seem important! I was fine, I still am fine, and that’s all there is to it,” Tony said a little faster than he should have.
Steve just shook his head, making a mental note to discuss this with him at a more appropriate time.
“What else have you not told me?”
“Nothing,” Tony said at the same time as Clint snorted.
“Anxiety meds,” Clint said. Tony flipped him off.
“What meds?” Steve asked incredulously. “You didn’t think that was important either?”
“Don’t like talking about it,” Tony said coolly, and Steve added yet another topic to his “Discuss Later” list.
“Clint, why don’t you tell Steve why you weren’t there to help us when SHIELD collapsed. I’m sure he’d love to hear about it,” Natasha said sweetly. Too sweetly.
“I was, uh, holding down the fort here,” he said, not looking up.
“No, tell him what you were actually doing,” Pepper nudged.
“Ugh, fine, I was having a video game competition with Dum-E. Happy?” he asked Pepper irritably, rolling his eyes at her patronizing smile in response.
“Dum-E?” Bucky asked.
“One of Tony’s robots. His first, actually,” Bruce responded helpfully.
“Wait, you couldn’t help us cause you were too busy gaming? With a robot?” Sam asked, his chopsticks hovering mid-air, still holding a piece of sweet and sour chicken, as they had been since he’d heard Clint say “video game competition.”
“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Clint said.
“Oh my god I think I love you,” Sam said completely seriously. “Seriously, man, that’s awesome. Did you win?”
“Finally, someone asks me how I did! Yes, I did win, thank you for asking.”
Sam shakes his head and finally brings his bite to his mouth.
“How’d you help Steve save the planet from HYDRA, Sam? Nat didn’t tell us much,” Clint asked before shoving the last bite of his chicken feet into his mouth.
“Well, I, uh,” Sam started before Natasha cut him off.
“He’s Falcon,” she said, leaving stunned expressions on both Bruce’s and Clint’s face.
“The Khaleed Kandil mission Falcon? The one with the huge-ass wings and such?” Clint asked. Sam nodded. “Dude, that’s sick! Can you take me for a ride sometime?”
Natasha dropped her forehead into her palm, but Sam just smiled. “Sure, it’d be fun. But I’ll need a new set of wings before we can do that – this guy messed my old ones up,” he said, jerking his thumb at Bucky.
“Not my fault,” Bucky said defensively.
“No, we know. It’s fine, Buck, but Tony here,” Steve said, giving Tony another pointed look that he completely missed, “Can make Sam a new set.”
Tony was looking at his scotch thoughtfully, and finally looked up when he felt everyone’s eyes on him. “What? Yeah, I’ll do it. Easy.”
Sam grinned. “Really? Thanks, Mr. Stark, it means a lot.”
“Don’t call me Mr. Stark,” Tony said with disgust. “I’m Tony. Or future supreme ruler of the world, if you prefer, but everyone here tends to call me Tony.”
“Okay, then. Thanks Tony.” Sam corrected carefully. He wasn’t sure what had provoked Tony’s sudden anger, but if Sam expected to stay in his house for long, he decided not to push the matter. He’d ask Steve about it later.
By now everyone had a container of Chinese in their hands, the plates Pepper had brought from the kitchen left in an unused stack on the ground.
“Who wants a beer?” Clint asked as he stood up and put his empty container on the stack of clean plates.
“Me,” Tony raised his empty scotch glass for Clint to take, though he didn’t.
“Two here,” Natasha said from her spot in Pepper’s lap.
“Yeah, I’ll take another,” Sam said.
“Shit, I’ll just bring the rest,” Clint muttered as he turned.
When he got back, carrying about 15 beers, even Bruce took one.
“Bruce?” Steve asked uneasily. “Is that such a good idea?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fine,” Bruce said reassuringly. Steve still looked around for reassurance, which he got from Natasha’s nod before she took a swig from her own beer.
“Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?” Bucky asked, taking a beer for himself off the table.
“Wait, wait. Just how much do you know about all of us?” Clint asked before answering Bucky’s question.
“Uh, not much, really,” he admitted, which caused Clint to glare at Steve.
“What? I thought it would be better if you guys explained it,” he said innocently.
“Ugh, fine,” Clint said. “That’s Dr. Bruce Banner, and he loves turning into a tiny sad insect, though he can’t control it.”
Natasha punched him in the arm. “Don’t listen to him,” Pepper said. “He likes confusing people with lies and practical jokes. He was right about one thing, though. That’s Dr. Banner,” she said, pointing to Bruce, who waved.
“Yeah, I knew that much,” Bucky said.
“Okay, good. That means Steve at least tried to tell you something about his team. Anyway, he’s the Hulk, sorry Bruce,” she added, knowing he didn’t like them using his army-given name in front of him, “A big, super strong, green monster that he turns into. He does have control over his transformations, usually.”
“That’s Clint Barton,” Natasha continued, nodding her head towards Clint. “He’s Hawkeye, the resident expert archer on the team, also the resident champion of the last practical joke war and laziest person you will ever meet.” Clint didn’t even try to argue, as it would be pointless. Natasha had just described his personality to a T.
“That’s Tony Stark,” Bruce picked up where Natasha left off. “Iron man armor creator and user, engineering genius, and recovering alcoholic, which he’s failing at right now,” he remarked. Tony deliberated about arguing with him for a second but, as had happened to Clint, Bruce had described him pretty much perfectly.
“That’s Pepper Potts,” Steve said, not trusting Tony to give accurate information, and not giving him the chance to prove his suspicions. “She’s the CEO of Tony’s old company, Tony’s ex-girlfriend, and the world’s most organized person.” From the way Natasha was sitting on Pepper’s lap, with her arm around her shoulders, Bucky assumed that Pepper was now Natasha’s girlfriend, but he thought better than to ask about it.
“I have an idea,” Natasha said, wanting to change the subject before this whole introduction session got too out of hand, “Let’s tell ridiculous stories about each other. I’ll start. Steve, remember when I gave you a hard-on at the mall in DC?”
Steve started to object, saying, “Now, that’s not actually-“ but Natasha cut him off.
“Don’t lie! I totally did! You said so yourself, Captain Bisexual,” she said laughing.
Steve chuckled, too. “Yeah, of course I remember.”
Clint was still dumbfounded. “How did that happen?” he asked, looking at Natasha.
Tony nodded, turning to face Steve. “Yeah, how did it happen? Do tell, Steven,” he said, remembering the multiple occasions in which using Steve’s given name led to the best sex he’d probably ever had.
Steve had already buried his face in his hands, broad frame shaking with laughter, but Tony could see a red flush on his neck.
“Let’s just say that Steve did more undercover work than ever before while we were running from HYDRA,” she said with a grin.
“Undercover work?” Tony asked Steve with a raised eyebrow. “I thought we reserved covers for after.”
Bruce spoke before Steve could come up with a response. “I don’t think we need to know, Tony,” he said, trying to be serious, but failing as laughter bubbled out of him halfway through the sentence.
“Okay, I got one,” Sam said, not waiting to hear more dirty jokes at Steve’s expense. “Nat, remember that time you Steve and I had to break into whatever fort in Maryland to get my wings?”
“When we broke into a secure facility and stole your army gear from behind a 12 inch steel wall?” Steve asked, picking his head up from his hands as his flush started to fade.
“And we got in and out without anyone noticing?” Natasha added smugly. “Some of my best work yet, if I do say so myself.”
“No I think those security guards noticed,” Sam said, “They just couldn’t tell anyone else what was going on cause you knocked ‘em out so fast.”
“We only count “noticing” if they’re able to do something about us being there before we leave voluntarily,” Steve said.
“Of course. Cause you superheroes don’t need to do clean up,” Sam added sarcastically.
“That is not true!” Clint exclaimed. “We did, like, 20 hours of community service to try to clean up the city after we destroyed it last time.”
“20?” Pepper asked skeptically.
“Combined, we might have added up to 20,” Clint muttered, taking a last gulp of his beer before grabbing another one.
“That sounds better,” Bruce said. “Oh, Tony, remember that time you broke into SHIELD’s secure server?”
“And didn’t find anything suspicious? Nothing that would have told us about the whole HYDRA thing, like, two years before it blew up in our faces” Natasha added, harboring some annoyance on the matter.
“To be fair, I wasn’t looking for HYDRA, I was looking for ways SHIELD was being a bunch of dumb liars. And I gathered a ton of data to prove my point – I even compiled it into a slideshow. Would you like to see it?”
“You. Compiled data. Into a slideshow?” Clint asked, obviously not buying it.
“Yeah, you don’t really seem like the type,” Bucky said quietly.
“Okay, fine, I told Jarvis to do it, but he did and now we have a slideshow containing a ton of what used to be secret SHIELD intel, which you, Natasha, by the way, did a great job of dumping out onto the Internet. Props for that. Anyone want to see it?”
“Sure,” Bucky said, surprising Tony with his prompt response.
“Let’s have a look,” Sam said.
“I just want to know how much of this was HYDRA, so yeah,” Natasha said.
“Great!” Tony said, jumping up and rubbing his hands together. “Jarvis, bring up the Super Secret Secrets Slideshow, if you please.”
The TV turned on and the file opened, and everyone laughed. Not only was the file titled “Not-So-Super Secret SHIELD Shit,” but the first slide was also a candid picture of Nick Fury holding one finger up to his lips like he was shushing someone. Tony tapped on his StarkPhone, and an animated title popped up, SHITTY SPY SECRETS.
“I was going to title it “Secrets of a Shitty Spy Organization Whose Secrets Have Secrets That They Didn’t Want Me to Know,” but it was too long to put on the opening slide and still see this great picture of Fury that I had Jarvis pull from Tower security cams.”
Thus began the longest PowerPoint presentation that most of them had ever sat through, the only exception being Bruce, who had not only seen this one before, but had also had to put one about his work together for Tony. It was longer than this one by maybe a slide or two. This slideshow covered everything from the Tesseract weapons of mass destruction to the fact that Kim, one of the scientists working in the production phase of some other minor project, had hooked up with one of the secretaries named Grant. It covered some guy named Fitz’s crazy pen-like device that can cut through anything, and something about Tahiti, but Tony glossed over that in favor of lots and lots of footage of other secret government agencies trying, and failing, to build a new Iron Man armor. Pepper would have thought he was done with his whole “other people failing at what was obviously his profession” phase, especially since he had had to sit in front of a federal court and testify about it, but she was obviously wrong. Apparently, it had been a favored pastime of his for years.
After they finished the presentation, Bucky wanted to know how the slideshow, and more specifically the device Tony displayed the slideshow on, worked. This, of course, launched Tony into about an hour’s worth of tech talk, going through most of his systems, with special emphasis on the gaming ones, and explaining what he thought was just the broad scope of things, but to everyone else it was like reading the extended version of the owner’s manual: it covered things that never happened in a topic no one cared about anyway. While Bucky seemed to be enjoying himself, Clint had enough time to go buy more beers, and for everyone else, even Steve, to drink 2 more. Therefore, by the time Tony had finished explaining how his Wii worked, and started pulling out the remotes, only Steve could see straight.
This became exceptionally apparent when Clint challenged Natasha to a Dance Dance Revolution duel, during which they fell on top of each other in the middle of one of the easiest songs in the game. Steve then decided that it was probably time for everyone to head off to bed.
“Awww, come on, Stevie, it’s only, like, 1am,” Tony whined, sprawling himself across the couch as if that would help his defense.
“Only,” Steve said sarcastically. “We’ll play tomorrow,” he promised as he turned off the TV and helped everyone else stand up.
“Such a party pooper,” was the best insult Clint could come up with while he let Captain America basically pick him up from where he’d fallen on his ass. Natasha maintained a little more dignity when allowing Steve to pick her up, nodding slightly at him when she finally let go of her death grip on his hand. She went to help Pepper up, kissing her unnecessarily heatedly in the middle of the living room with everyone watching before heading off to their room down the hall together.
Bruce stood up by himself and thankfully for Steve, coherent enough to say a slurred “Good night,” before stumbling down the hall after Natasha.
Sam, who had managed to conquer the leather recliner in the middle of the room, needed a little more help than he should have just standing up.
“Wait,” Steve said as he hauled him up. “Let me get Bucky to send downstairs with you. Back to the American floor where we left all our shit.”
Clint had just stood, leaning against the TV since Steve had helped him up, so Steve gave him a nudge before going to offer Bucky a hand up. “Come on, Buck,” he said as he half picked the other man up from the couch. “Time for bed.”
Bucky grunted and nodded absently, allowing Steve to lead him to the elevator. Sam followed in a daze, but managed to make it to the elevator without breaking anything, which was a plus in Steve’s book.
“Jarvis,” Steve said, shoving Sam and Bucky into the elevator, “Make sure they get to the right floor, okay?”
“Of course, Captain Rogers,” Jarvis responded as the doors closed.
Steve turned around to Tony, who was still sprawled across the couch. He walked over to Tony and had to nearly crawl on top of him to get his attention. Steve kissed him briefly before grabbing his shoulders and dragging him into a sitting position. Tony groaned in protest, but Steve ignored it. “Come on, I know you sleep on the couch normally, but we are not doing that the first night I’m back. We’re going to bed.”
Tony nodded. Though his eyes didn’t gleam with their usual comprehension, he still let Steve help him up and lead him to their bedroom down the hall. Steve helped Tony get his old T-shirt and sweatpants off, leaving him in his boxers, before stripping himself in the same fashion. Tony stood there, nearly naked in the middle of their expansive bedroom that had once been only his, until Steve steered him to the bed. Steve had already peeled the blankets off the bed, so Tony could just fall down and not have to worry about getting the blankets out from underneath him. Steve had learned from experience that that sight was not a pretty one.
Tony rolled onto his side when Steve climbed into bed next to him, allowing Steve to wrap himself around Tony like an octopus after he’d pulled the blankets back on top of them. He drifted off quickly into an easy sleep, comforted by Steve’s heat against his back, a heat he had missed for a long time.
After Steve heard Tony’s breath even out into light snores, a telltale sign that he was asleep, he spoke softly. “Jarvis? Did Bucky and Sam make it to their rooms alright?”
Jarvis responded as quietly as his speakers would allow, which was still too loud for Steve’s taste: “They made it to your floor, captain, but they weren’t as lucky when it came to the guest rooms that had been prepared.”
“What do you mean?” Steve whispered, trying not to tighten his grip on Tony too much as tension grew in his chest.
“Let me show you,” Jarvis said as he pulled up the video clip. Steve watched Sam and Bucky stumbling out of the elevator, leaning against each other in a vain attempt at stabilizing themselves. They made it to the couches in the living room before falling on top of each other. Thankfully, they fell onto the couch, which was where they stayed for the remainder of the video clip. Looking closely, Steve could swear he saw Bucky give Sam a kiss and snuggle into his chest, but given the low light it was hard to tell.
Steve let out a sigh of relief. “Okay. Thanks, Jarvis,” he said, relaxing back into the bed, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on Tony slightly.
“My pleasure, Captain. Good night,” Jarvis said.
“Oh, and Jarvis?” Steve said, cracking open one tired eye.
“Yes, Captain?”
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Steve?” he asked.
“I’ll do my best… Steve,” Jarvis replied after a pause.
“Thanks,” Steve slurred just moments before unconsciousness overtook him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, Steve woke up a little later than he usually did, around 6:00 instead of 5:00. Careful not to disturb Tony from the sleep he needed, he climbed out of bed and put on his running clothes. The party last night was no excuse to not take care of himself. Not that he would ever admit it, but running had become a sort of therapy for Steve, allowing him to escape himself for a bit and just be.
Roughly one hour and 26 miles later, Steve strode through the empty lobby to the elevators. “Has anyone made breakfast yet, Jarvis?” He asked as he entered the elevator.
“Not yet, Steve.” Jarvis said.
“Is anyone even up yet?”
“No, not yet,” Jarvis replied, something nearing disapproval in his tone.
“Okay, then. To the kitchen,” Steve said chuckling.
Seconds later, the elevator doors opened to the living room floor. Steve sighed when he saw the mess that no one had bothered to clean up last night. The Chinese food cartons were strewn everywhere, and beer bottles littered both the floor and the counter.
After his initial inspection, he set to work. He collected all the food containers, most of which were empty, and threw them away. He felt bad about the ones that still had food in them, but they had sat out all night and would probably give someone food poisoning if they tried to eat it. Steve had gotten food poisoning once this way, and it was horrible. Apparently the serum didn’t protect him from his own stupidity, especially when eating meat that had sat out of the fridge all night long. The beer bottles came next, clattering even as he placed them as gently as he could in the cardboard box they use for recycling.
Next he washed the counter and coffee table: dried sauce and beer that had been spilled last night made them way too sticky for his liking. Finally, Steve made it to the fridge to see what he could make everyone for breakfast. Normally, breakfast was Sam’s thing, but given he wasn’t conscious right now, and Steve was hungry, he would do it. Besides, Sam would probably be way too hungover to want to cook when he woke up.
Taking stock of the fridge, there wasn’t much, but he could make do. There were two cartons of eggs, a couple of packages of bacon, a package of sausage, an assortment of vegetables thanks to Bruce, and about two dozen bagels. This may have been enough to feed a normal group of 8, but superheroes tended to eat a ton, so Steve had to be creative with his food preparation.
An hour or so later, when Bucky staggered out of the elevator, Steve had made enough food to feed an army. Bucky sat at the expansive counter and rubbed his eyes as Steve poured him a cup of coffee. After drinking about half his coffee, Bucky looked around in bewilderment, as if seeing the tremendous amount of food laid out in front of him for the first time.
“What the hell’s all the food for? Are we expecting company?” he asked suspiciously.
“Honestly, I don’t think there’ll be enough food.” Seeing Bucky’s eyes widen, Steve added, “These people eat more in a single meal than the Howling Commandoes could eat in a day.”
“No,” Bucky said, shaking his head. “Not possible.”
“Just wait and see,” Steve said as he got Bucky’s plate ready for him. He filled it halfway full with his vegetable-sausage scramble, added extra bacon on top, and set a bagel off to the side. Steve probably gave Bucky more food than he should have, since he hasn’t been able to judge portion sizes since they found him, but he remembered how important it was for Bucky to eat a big greasy breakfast after a night of heavy drinking in the past, so he assumed the same rules applied now.
As he set the plate in front of Bucky, Pepper and Natasha emerged from their dark room. For all she drank last night, Natasha was surprisingly coherent, and didn’t look too bad. Pepper, on the other hand, looked somewhat like she’d gotten hit by a truck.
“Good morning,” Steve said brightly as they sat down at the counter next to Bucky.
“Always so chipper,” Natasha replied tiredly, and Pepper just groaned, holding her head in her hands like she was trying to keep it from exploding.
Steve smiled at her as he set coffee cups in front of them, giving Pepper an especially large one, and poured it for them. Pepper tried to take the cup before he was done pouring the coffee for her, and drank it greedily as soon as he let go. Natasha, on the other hand, sipped hers carefully, watching Steve put together their plates.
“You’re missing something,” she said as Tony miraculously emerged from his bedroom, wearing nothing but an undershirt, boxers, and a pair of sunglasses: his usual post-party attire. Natasha got up and rummaged through the pantry, appearing moments later holding an apron that Steve had gotten for Tony as a joke over a year ago. It had a cartoonish picture of a man’s abs on the torso, with the cursive words Kiss the Chef written over it.
“No,” Steve laughed, “I am not wearing that.”
“Yes you are,” both Natasha and Tony said in unison as Tony sat down on the other side of Bucky.
“Stop whining and gimme some coffee, Steve,” Tony said irritably.
“What’s the magic word?” Steve asked teasingly, setting down a large coffee cup in front of Tony and holding the coffee pot just out of his reach as Natasha tied the apron around his back.
“Cookies,” Tony said in all seriousness. Steve gave him a jokingly disapproving look, and he sighed. “Fine, please.”
“Please what?” Steve joked as he started pouring Tony’s elixir of life for him.
“Please nothing, thanks,” Tony said, snagging the cup the second Steve was done pouring the coffee.
Steve shook his head, chuckling as he went to make Tony’s plate for him. He piled it extra tall, knowing Tony doesn’t usually eat enough and trying to make up for it.
“Don’t want food,” Tony said between gulps of coffee when Steve set the plate down in front of him. “More coffee,” he said as he set down his already-empty cup.
“Nope,” Steve said, taking the cup and giving Tony a fork. “Not until you eat.”
“Fine,” Tony groaned. He didn’t put up too much of a fight, which told Steve that he was starving. Not that he would have taken care of it himself.
Tony started scarfing down food as Bruce came out of his room, looking tired, but no worse for wear. He stand at the end of the counter as Steve pours him his tea, which he had already prepared, and dishes him out his veggie scramble.
“Thanks,” Bruce said quietly as he accepted the food from Steve.
“Any time,” Steve said with a smile.
Everyone ate in silence for a few minutes before they heard the elevator ding. Sam stumbled out of it looking about as bad as Pepper did. By this time, Steve had made a new pot of coffee, and gave Sam the first cup before dishing out a good amount of eggs and bacon. Sam half-fell into the chair next to Tony, and groaned when Steve put the overflowing plate in front of him.
“Come on, you’ll feel better when you eat,” Steve chided.
“He’s not wrong,” Tony said with a mouth half-full of eggs, nudging Sam’s shoulder.
Sam groaned again, but started to eat anyway.
Then out staggered Clint, surprisingly not looking worse than Sam, especially given all he drank last night. Steve gave him the same coffee and food combo he gave everyone else, and Clint groaned the same way that Sam did from his spot leaning against the counter next to Bruce.
“Eat it,” Sam said, kicking him.
Clint groaned, and begrudgingly took a bite after gulping down half of his coffee in one swig.
Steve now took his own plate, picking at the few eggs and pieces of bacon that remained. He still left a good amount for seconds, though, because it wasn’t a meal at Avengers tower until at least one person went back for thirds.
“Guess it’s a good thing Thor couldn’t come last night,” Natasha said, earning a chuckle from all the other Avengers. Sam and Bucky looked confused. “He’s just really loud,” she explained.
“Painfully loud on a daily basis. I think his whisper would cause my brain to explode right about now,” Bruce said.
Tony finished his food first, and actually stood up to get himself seconds. Steve let him, of course, watching him closely as he almost walked into the corner of the counter. Obviously feeling more awake after he grabbed his second cup of coffee, he started to pick up his usual level of chatter. And as usual, no one really listened until he paused, which was weird, cause Tony never paused.
Everyone looked over to Tony, who was looking Sam and Bucky up and down, an awed expression on his face.
“You… Are you two wearing the same clothes you wore yesterday?” he asked incredulously.
“Uh, yeah,” Bucky answered as Sam nodded slightly.
“No, no, no, no. This is unacceptable. Good god, Steve, really? You brought homeless people to my tower and didn’t even bother to clothe them properly first?”
“We brought a change of clothes,” Steve said somewhat defensively.
“Oh, a change of clothes, great,” Tony said, finally sitting down. “You expect me to be okay with that? Well let me tell you, I am not.”
“Uh, Tony,” Sam interjected before he could continue his rant. “We can… we can be on our way tomorrow, if you want. It’s no problem,” he said, holding his head in his hands, elbows braced on either side of his plate.
“Wait, what? You think that’s what I meant?” Sam nodded. “Oh, geez. No, no, no, no, no. Not at all.”
Tony stopped talking, so Steve prodded him to continue. “What did you mean, then?”
Tony’s smile transformed into a shit-eating grin as he said, “We’re going shopping.” He whipped his sunglasses off his face for a dramatic effect, but was immediatley overwhelmed by the bright lights of the kitchen, and quickly put them back on. “On the other hand, tomorrow works better for me. Shopping. Tomorrow,” he said as he stood up and trooped back to bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, Tony and Sam, and Natasha and Bucky strolled into Tony’s favorite mall the moment it opened. Before Sam could even wish Bucky good luck with their shopping trip, Tony grabbed him by the hand and dragged him to the most expensive store in the mall.
“No, Tony, we can’t go here. I don’t have any money, and there’s no way I’m letting you pay for clothes for me from here,” Sam objected as Tony led the way down the empty hallway, still tightly grasping his hand.
“Nope, nope, nope. I would buy you the entire store if I wanted to, and that might happen. No promises that it won’t.” Tony easily brushed off Sam’s worries, stopping at the storefront and making an expansive gesture. “Here we are. The best store in the entirety of New York. Let’s go.”
The store clerk seemed to know Tony well. “Good morning, Mr. Stark. What can I do for you today?” the young man asked as he emerged from behind the counter.
“We,” Tony said, gesturing to Sam, who was standing awkwardly behind him, “Need help getting him,” again, gesturing to Sam, “Some acceptable clothing. But I know what I need,” Tony said as he made his way to the back of the store.
“Thanks, though,” Sam called behind him.
Tony Stark is considered by some, if not most, to be one of the best shoppers ever. If he hadn’t been a genius-level CEO and inventor, he would have found his way into a professional shopping career. He not only guessed Sam’s size correctly on the first try, but he also picked out styles that looked fantastic on him, colors that looked good with his skin tone and brought out his eyes. The fact that the colors looked good together was a given.
“God, Tony, I really don’t need all these clothes. I’m never gonna wear them!” Sam said as they dumped all the clothes they could possibly carry on the check out counter, while Tony went and grabbed some more.
“Yes, Sam, you really do. You’re living with me, for god’s sake. You’re gonna need a lot of clothes. Even if you don’t wear them, you’re gonna need them, just cause.” Tony said as he dropped another armful of clothes on the counter and the cashier began to ring them up.
“Now what’re those for?” Sam asked exasperatedly.
“We both know that Bucky won’t get any good clothes, mainly because Nat won’t make him, so we’re getting some for him. Also, Steve needs more modern-clothes,” he said as he held up a flannel that Sam guessed would be roughly Steve’s size. “Don’t tell me that man wouldn’t look absolutely fantastic in this flannel.”
Sam pictured it before answering. “I know you’re his boyfriend or whatever, but damn. I have to agree.”
“I know. Cause that’s what I do,” Tony said grinning as he handed over his credit card to the cashier.
Sam took a look at the total cost and let out a low whistle. “Wow. Tony, no, we don’t have to buy all this stuff. Look at all your money we’re wasting!”
“Um, no. One, we obviously need these things. Every last one of ‘em. Two, it’s not wasting money if you choose to spend it. And three, it’s no fun spending the entirety of my vast fortune on myself… No. No, that’s a lie. But still don’t worry about it, okay?”
Sam nodded begrudgingly, and said “Thanks so much, Tony,” as they left the store.
“Mhmm,” Tony said, looking at his watch. “Shit, we were in there for three hours! Okay, we have one more place to go. Follow me,” he said as he sped off down the hall towards the mall entrance.
Sam decided to follow Tony’s lead, saving his multitude of questions until after Tony slowed down to explain. They stopped in front of a small comic book store.
“Okay, I gotta ask, what are we doing here?” Sam asked Tony.
“Well, we have this Avengers PJ’s rule and, long story short, if you live in the tower with us, you need to have a set of pajamas, namely T-shirts, but boxers are highly recommended too, depicting each of the other Avengers,” Tony said as they entered the comic shop. “We need to get you, like, at least six pairs of PJ’s.”
Tony led the way, again, to the back of the store, where they kept their fan merchandise. “Also,” Tony said as he grabbed his favorite designs off the racks, “We all wear a pair of the pajamas during our team movie nights, which are Wednesday nights, so tonight. Obviously, movie nights are when we all get together and watch movies, so yeah. Which Hulk design do you like better?” he asked, holding up one featuring an angry Hulk who looked like he was tearing his way out of a comic book page printed on the shirt, and another one that just said Hulk on it in crumbling bold letters, followed by a cartoon Hulk face.
“That one, obviously,” Sam said, pointing to the “Hulk tearing through a comic book” shirt. They went through a similar process with most of the shirts, the only exception being Captain America, which Tony stayed out of and let Sam pick his own. It would have taken twice as long to get out of the comic book store if they’d followed the same guidelines for choosing the boxers, which Tony said were mandatory, but Sam decided just to get ones that matched the shirts he’d chosen.
By the time they finally finished, it was long past the time they had agreed to meet Natasha and Bucky in the food court, so they busted their asses speed walking across the mall to try to catch them. Luckily for them, Natasha knew that Tony usually ran late, especially when shopping, and she and Bucky were still sitting where they promised they would be, in a quiet corner between a Panda Express knock off that no one went to and an undecorated wall.
“Successful?” Natasha asked sarcastically as Tony and Sam slid into chairs across from her and Bucky.
“More or less so,” Tony said, picking at the food Natasha had gotten for him.
“I will never in my entire life wear all of these clothes,” Sam said seriously before starting to shovel food into his mouth. “How about you guys?”
“I’d say we were successful, yes,” Natasha said, looking at Bucky for confirmation.
“Yup, I think so,” Bucky nodded.
“Well? What did you spend my money on? You have to show me,” Tony said, glancing over at Bucky between bites of overpriced faux-Chinese food.
Bucky sighed, but pulled out most of his clothes from the Target bag. “I didn’t even know there was a Target at this mall,” Tony muttered.
“There’s not,” Natasha informed him. “We went across the street. Quieter, less overwhelming advertisements, much easier to navigate. Just better overall.”
Tony sighed, biting back a smart retort, and motioned for Bucky to show him what he bought. As it turns out, Bucky really didn’t like shopping. He bought mostly white and grey T-shirts and long sleeve shirts, none of which were form fitting. There were also dark sweat pants, dark red and dark blue hoodies, and one pair of nice-ish looking jeans.
“That’s it? What about the PJ’s?” Tony asked incredulously when he noticed there was still something in the bag. “No, the bag still has stuff in it. I wanna see.”
Bucky sighed as he pulled out the sets of pajamas he had bought. They were pretty generic, all run-of-the-mill designs and no bright colors, but it satisfied Tony’s rule.
“Good,” Tony said grinning as he picked up one of the bags he had set down and decided to show Natasha and Bucky what they had found for Sam.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The four shoppers got back to the tower around 4:30, just in time to find Steve finishing wrapping up eight packages in the living room.
“What’re these?” Bucky asked as he exited the elevator with the others and dumped his bag on the couch next to Steve.
“Presents,” Steve said simply. “For everyone. Jarvis, tell everyone else to come to the living room right now. And if Bruce says he needs a minute, tell him it’s an emergency.”
“You sneaky devil,” Tony said as he sat on Steve’s other side. “I thought only I did that to our poor Bruce.”
“I only do it when it’s actually necessary, Tony,” Steve said smartly. “And right now it absolutely is necessary. Come in, guys. Sit down.”
Sam and Natasha, who were still hovering in the doorway, did as they were told and seated themselves on the couch opposite to Steve.
Clint meandered into the room, acting like he’d stumbled across their meeting on accident, and sat down in the leather armchair. “So, what’s this super-secret gift exchange, Steve-o?”
Steve shot him a look, and told him, “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
The elevator dinged open, and out walked a tall blonde man wearing what looked to Sam like medieval armor, with a red velvet cape and everything.
Natasha grinned. “Hey, Thor! Come on in, sit down. Steve’s got presents.”
Thor beamed back at the group. “So I have been told! The good Captain contacted with me and summoned me here, saying as much. Who are these esteemed guests?” He asked, looking at Sam and Bucky.
“Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes,” Tony informed him as Bruce ran out of the elevator.
“Whoa, take it easy, big guy.”
“Is there… No… Emergency?” Bruce asked, panting.
“Well, no,” Steve admitted somewhat sheepishly. “But we did need you here urgently, so thanks for coming quickly,” he grinned. “Go ahead and take a seat,” Steve said as he stood up and grabbed a couple packages.
“Pepper’s at work, right?” he asked Natasha as he handed her a package.
“Yeah, until around 7:30,” she answered absently as she inspected her package.
“Then please give her this when she gets home,” Steve said, handing her another package. Natasha nodded, and went back to examining the squishy, paper-wrapped lump she was holding.
Steve went around delivering identical packages to everyone in the group, telling everyone, “Don’t open it yet.”
Tony was nearly quivering in anticipation by the time Steve sat down next to him. “Okay, go ahead and open them,” Steve relented, seeing everyone’s antsy and curious eyes on him.
They all tore into the wrapping paper, throwing the crumpled remains of Steve’s better than average wrapping jobs unceremoniously to the ground. The packages seemed to contain clothes, which confused Sam and Bucky. Hadn’t they just bought more clothes than they would ever wear? Clint, being the child that he is, was the first to unfold the army green shirt to see the design. He nodded in approval, then shoved it next to him so he could see the pattern on the accompanying light gray shirt.
Sam, still not knowing exactly what was going on, took his time. He saved the wrapping paper, because hey, he liked it, and carefully unfolded the shirts, light gray one first. The design on the front had the black silhouette of a man who looked like he was running, with a red star on one of his shoulders. Under the silhouette, in white block letters, it said The Winter Soldier. Looking on the back, Sam also saw a print that looked like Bucky’s metal arm on one shoulder, a red star right where Bucky’s was. It took Sam a minute to put two and two together, but when he did, he jumped.
“Oh! This is Bucky’s superhero shirt!” he exclaimed.
“Yeah,” Steve said, nodding and smiling. “Look at the other one.”
Sam did as he was told, and picked up the army green shirt that was still folded in his lap. “Oh my god,” he said, his mouth falling open as he saw the design.
It was another silhouette, but this time the man was flying with a pair of wings that looked like his had. Behind the silhouette, there were jet trails just like what his suit left. Underneath the man, in the jet trails left in his wake, was the word Falcon.
“This… Is this me?” Sam asked, again just beginning to comprehend the reason behind the shirt.
“Yeah, that’s you, buddy,” Bucky spoke up. “Wow, Steve. Why?”
“Well, you both seem to have decided to stay in the tower, at least for a little while, and that comes with some perks. One of them is that you’ll be called on to help fight crime with the rest of us, and that makes you both superheroes like the rest of us. Therefore, given our pajama rule, it’s only fair that we all get shirts based on you.” Steve said as if they should have figured that out by now.
Bucky was shocked. There was no way in the world that Bucky would ever consider himself worthy of something like this. Not to have his own T-shirt, especially when the meaning behind it was so unlike anything he had ever considered himself to be. He had never thought he was worthy of much of anything, but here he is, accepting a shirt based off of him in a room full of superheroes. Although the shirt probably didn’t cost much, Bucky knew already that it would always be one of his most prized possessions.
He leaned over and gave Steve a big hug. “Thanks,” was all he could think to say.
Steve smiled at him when Bucky finally let go. “My pleasure. Now you and Sam go put away your shirts and all your clothes from today, and go shower or whatever. We have an hour or so until movie night.”
Sam and Bucky silently stood up, collected their things, and went to the elevators, still stunned.
The others sat and chatted in the living room for an hour until they came back, only taking a break to run to their rooms and put on their Avengers PJ’s.
“I thought you said movie night was in an hour,” Bucky said as he between Sam and Natasha, proudly wearing his new Captain America shirt.
“It was. But we never said you couldn’t come back until it started,” Natasha said, adjusting herself so she could show off her baggy Hulk shirt and matching pajama shorts.
“One thing ya’ll better know if you’re gonna live with us: someone’s always awake, and someone’s usually up here. If we’re not here, go check the gym. You’ll always have someone to talk to, or to annoy,” Clint said, waggling his eyebrows.
“Ay, the archer speaks true,” Thor agreed.
“But a little unsettlingly,” Bruce added.
“Hey, it’s me we’re talking about,” Clint said.
“Best point you’ve made all day,” Natasha said.
“Okay, wait, I need to see all your shirts, these are too great,” Sam said. “I saw Natasha’s, and Bucky’s obviously. Here’s mine,” he said as he stood up to reveal his Hawkeye shirt. He glanced over at Clint, who was grinning unabashedly. “Now you guys go.” Each person stood up and showed off their gear as they went around the room. Thor was wearing an Iron man shirt, and Tony was wearing a Black Widow tank top that was obviously designed for a woman, but he apparently had decided to ignore that minor detail. Steve wore his new Falcon shirt, which made Sam smile. Bruce had on his Winter Soldier shirt, which made Bucky smile sheepishly, and Clint was sporting his well-worn Thor shirt.
Natasha’s phone buzzed in her makeshift pocket made by the elastic waistband of her shorts. She looked at her phone and grinned. “Yes! Pepper got out of her last meeting tonight. She’s on her way with pizza now.”
“Awww, yesss,” Clint cheered, pumping his fist in the air and nearly jumping out of his seat. “Thank god!”
“No need to thank me, good archer, for I am not the one retrieving the goods,” Thor said jokingly.
Everyone laughed at that, and Thor looked proud of himself. He had come a long way from the first time he had said that, when he had gotten confused by Midgardian colloquial phrases, but hung on to that specific response as a sort of inside joke with the team.
One relatively lengthy explanation about the beginnings of Thor’s relationship with Midgard later, Pepper emerged from the elevator carrying a mountain of pizza boxes.
“PIZZA!” Clint jumped up in the middle of one of Tony’s stories and ran to greet Pepper. “Pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza,” he chanted like a child as he grabbed the boxes and ran over to the coffee table. He dropped them carelessly on the table, kneeling beside it as if it were an altar.
“Please don’t tell me his favorite pizza is as weird as his Chinese food order,” Sam said as Clint began flipping through the boxes.
“Honestly, it’s more normal than not, but it’s still not the best,” Bruce said, standing up from his seat and coming to wait behind Clint.
“Ah-ha!” Clint exclaimed as he opened a meat-lover’s pizza and took a slice in each hand.
“See, not the best,” Bruce said as he took Clint’s spot and flipped open a couple of boxes until he found his veggie-lover’s pizza. “This is the best,” he said as he took a piece.
“Tis no such thing,” Thor said, leaning down to get a slice of Hawaiian for himself. “If any of this fine creation were to be served in Asgard, this would surely be of this variety,” he said, holding up his piece and taking a large bite out of it.
Clint made a frustrated sound from his seat. “Urrgghhhh!” he said around a mouthful of pizza. He was holding his slice of pizza out at arm’s length, and there was a string of cheese suspended in the air between his mouth and the pizza. Bruce leaned over and broke the string for him. “That is not something that’s supposed to happen to a superhero!” Clint exclaimed after he swallowed.
“Okay, okay, enough about the pizza,” Steve said before the argument could escalate as it had before. “What movie should we watch?”
“Indiana Jones,” Clint said at the same time as Bruce said, “The Matrix,” and Tony said, “Breakfast Club.”
“What’s Your Number,” Natasha said as soon as they boys had stopped talking.
“Tash, no, is that one of your Russian crime dramas again?” Clint asked. “Cause I’m not watching one of those again. And I am most certainly not making our newest members watch a Russian crime drama on their first movie night here. Nope, no way.”
Natasha sighed and Pepper answered. “It’s an American romantic comedy. Tony, you used to watch this with me all the time, it’s one of my favorites. You should remember, but on the other hand, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you don’t.”
“What, me? Not remember something? That’s just offensive and uncalled for and most likely completely accurate,” Tony said in a tone that would suggest he was angry, even though he just said Pepper was right.
“Sounds good to me,” Steve said, not willing to let them get into a fight again. “Bruce?”
“Sure,” Bruce shrugged, “Why not?”
“Great, Thor?” Steve asked.
“Ay, let us watch this great film of numbers,” he agreed.
“Perfect! Jarvis, if you please?” Steve said, smiling as he leaned back into the couch and put an arm around Tony.
“What am I, chopped liver?” Clint asked, feigning offense.
“You watch everything, even more so with us, so I just assume you’re okay with anything now,” Steve answered smartly.
Clint made a noncommittal gesture, but didn’t push the issue any further, not finding a fault in Steve’s argument.
Jarvis was pulling up the movie when Steve started talking again. “So, Sam, Bucky, how do you like your shirts?”
“Awesome,” Bucky said shortly, distracted by the opening credits.
“Totally awesome,” Sam said, managing a nod before being sucked back into the movie.
“Guys, you’re missing the most important part!” Pepper complained. Everyone silenced for a few minutes, watching Anna Faris stalk around her apartment until her neighbor walked in. Steve had a sneaking suspicion that this was, in fact, not the most important part, but he wasn’t about to say anything.
“Now doesn’t he look strangely familiar,” Natasha said. “Steve, got anything to tell us?” Steve, who had hardly been paying attention, now looked at the TV and did a double take. The man in the movie looked… exactly like him. Huh.
“I… I got nothing, Nat,” Steve said, at a loss. Suddenly, conveniently, he remembered,
“Oh, Tony, I have to tell you something.”
Tony waited a beat. “Well? You know I can’t read minds, and even if I did I would just make you tell me anyway. What is it?”
“So, when I was picking up the shirts today, I ran into Spider-Man on the street while he was tying up some criminal – not sure who it was, I let him worry about that. But of course, I helped him, and we worked really well together, and had a good time, and he offered to help me carry the boxes of shirts back to the tower, and long story short I may or may not have invited him to come watch the movie with us tonight,” Steve said without taking a breath.
“You… What? You invited some masked vigilante to the tower just two days after bringing two complete strangers to the tower? And you ask him to come during one of our most sacred traditions, movie night? I bet he’s not even going to wear an Avengers shirt. And since when do you of all people need help carrying boxes” Tony objected.
“He just seemed like a nice guy, alright? And it’s not like I can un-invite him now – I don’t have his phone number or anything,” Steve said innocently.
“Ugh, fine, but no more of this taking in strays thing of yours. We have enough people here already and you know I don’t like strangers!” Tony said. “Jarvis, let him up when he gets here. But lock the liquor cabinets, and make sure the kid doesn’t take anything.”
Steve grinned at Tony as they heard the cabinets locking and Jarvis replied “Yes, sir.”
“I may have also invited Logan to stop by whenever he wants,” Steve said hurriedly.
“You what? You mean Logan Logan? The Wolverine? When did you see him?” Tony asked, eyes growing wide.
“Well, yeah, that’s the only Logan we both know,” Steve said quietly. “I saw him when I was walking back to the tower with Spider-Man.”
Tony was spluttering, but before he could respond, Jarvis announced, “Spider-Man has entered the lobby, sir. Or, at least, a young man with the same biometric readings that Spider-Man has just entered the lobby. And he has the Spider-Man costume in his backpack.”
Seeing the inevitability of his situation, Tony sighed. “Well, fuck.” He was about to open his home to one, maybe two, strangers. Superheroes, but strangers nonetheless, for the second time in three days. “Bring it on.”