Work Text:
Tony didn’t expect to be cared for, nor would he explicitly ask for it. In fact, he could care for himself even though everyone (the world in an abstract concept) thought that his bad habits and impulsive mistakes meant he couldn’t. It was just that, for one reason or another that he couldn’t particularly understand, someone always ended up caring for him.
Rhodey got the pleasure of it because they were good friends. Tony really didn’t lean into that as much, especially after college when they stopped living together, and they split off: Rhodey to wherever the military sent him next and Tony to do a job he never actually imagined doing or wanted to do.
Pepper had initially been paid to care for him Tony was shocked back then, and when he looked back, he was shocked she continued. He developed a practice of being so unapologetically out of touch with who he wanted to be or could be that it became the penultimate test of whether or not someone wanted to waste their time sticking around.
Pepper got further than any tests Tony could throw out there, however, even though months ago she finally figured out she deserved better. She would never say that of course, remaining respectfully neutral, shouldering some of the blame, but Tony couldn’t let himself off the hook. When she said she couldn’t handle watching him die even though she thought she could, he silently filled in that he should’ve done better, and given up being Iron Man.
Besides Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy, he couldn’t name anyone else that had stuck around so much in the last fifteen to twenty years. He expected to feel like he was picking up slack when he finally got over his heartbreakingly civil breakup, but his gaze connected with steam rising from a cup of coffee he didn’t remember making in an Iron Man mug he didn’t remember buying when he finally pulled himself from his pit of self-loathing.
He looked from the mug to the holograms of the suit in front of him. He remembered the repair work he was doing and remembered the fight with a particularly passionate megalomaniac that made it necessary, but he didn’t remember the cup of coffee.
He sat back in his chair, the wheels moving him away from the desk just slightly in the movement, eyes on the deliciously simple cup. He remembered everything even if he had been in and out of a daze, but not making it.
He looked out beyond the holograms, expecting a mess, but everything he had from working on the suit was neatly tucked into boxes or sorted off to the side. His eyes trailed over to Bruce who was working on something, standing in front of his own desk in the lab. He had an equally steamy, equally unfamiliar green mug with a pair of glasses in front of him.
Frowning, Tony picked up his mug, got up, rolled stiffness out of his shoulders, and walked right over to the doctor.
“Morning?” he asked and greeted at the same time since he really didn’t know what time it was.
“Morning,” Bruce confirmed, looking up from the screen in front of him. “Almost seven.”
“Cool, cool.” Tony nodded his head, knowing he could’ve easily had JARVIS fill him in, but he also had more questions and this felt less awkward.
“Did you make the coffee?” he asked, holding up the mug.
“No, Steve brought them by, but it could’ve been either him or Clint that made it,” Bruce said, shrugging his shoulders. “I didn’t ask, but I’d sip it slowly just in case.”
If Bruce wondered why Tony didn’t notice Steve had come by, he didn’t ask.
Tony looked back down at the mug before he took a sip as suggested. It tasted like coffee so he shrugged and Bruce looked mildly relieved before he took a drink of his. Tony felt like he got more of an answer on whether the coffee was good or not when Bruce smiled contently because Tony usually just downed whatever was labeled “coffee.”
He wandered around to the other side of Bruce’s desk. Bruce took a step slightly to the side so Tony could see the screens better.
“Natasha thinks that Kimberling didn’t work alone,” Bruce said and Tony glanced back at his workstation.
“Well, if he didn’t, whoever it is will need to do better than electromagnet bombs,” Tony replied, wishing he was actually making a sarcastic joke about what they actually faced.
“So far I’m not finding anything that suggests one way or another.”
“I hope whoever it is is one step under Saturday Morning cartoon bad guy… or maybe step above.” Tony shrugged. “Don’t want to fall asleep fighting someone.”
“I wouldn’t complain about one step under.”
“Oh come on.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Think of it as an early Christmas present for the big guy.” Without really thinking about it twice, Tony kissed the top of Bruce’s head. “Maybe he’ll get you something too.” He headed back towards his desk.
Bruce didn’t appear to think about the tender gesture either, apart from a soft smile. “I don’t want to think about what he’ll think is a good present for me.”
“Maybe whoever made us these mugs-”
“Thor.”
“Thor? Actually, nope. I don’t want to deal with the remodel from them crafting together.”
Bruce laughed and something about it made Tony feel warm and accomplished.
It turned out Romanoff was right about Kimberling having a friend and not that Tony was surprised in the least, but he was annoyed that this buddy did turn the Saturday Morning Cartoon Villain to a new level. Barton took it upon himself to comment on how it reminded them that they weren’t Saturday Morning Cartoon Heroes and that launched into a very friendly debate on how close they actually were to the description. To Tony’s surprise, Rogers and Thor kept up pretty well for never having watched a Saturday Morning Cartoon in their lives.
Saturday Morning habits or plans or traditions aside, the fight with Kimberling’s pal (who Tony decided to call Timber since he didn’t care to learn his actual name) was maybe about three steps above Kimberling and, while he didn’t sustain any injuries, he was left so exhausted he only protested the impromptu piggyback from Thor for three minutes.
The blonde even took his armor off down to his underclothes so it wasn’t uncomfortable when Tony pressed his cheek against the back of his shoulder, holding tightly around his broad chest.
“How do you smell good?” he asked, though his voice was a little muffled. “You smell like vanilla. Do you even sweat?”
Thor chuckled and Tony took that as a sign he understood, even if Tony didn’t plan on repeating louder. It was enough to keep his eyes open and cling to some sense of dignity from this whole trip to his bedroom.
He sniffed again since Thor didn’t really respond to his question and tried to draw his own conclusion beyond “magic” or “it’s an Asgardian thing” because, while those were probably correct answers, Tony wanted a better one.
“You know Thor, I’m curious by nature, it’s part of the genius thing,” he said, moving his head so he was less muffled. “So if you don’t answer me, I’ll need to do experiments.”
As they approached Tony’s door, Thor turned around before promptly bending slightly so Tony could slide off without falling on his ass. “It may interest you to know I’m curious about what you plan on doing to experiment,” Thor said over his shoulder, even smirking a little before he walked away.
It took Tony until he was actually laying in bed before he realized that the thunderer was flirting with him.
It’s not that the others were explicitly flirting with him like Thor had so cleverly and charmingly done, but Tony could tell something was going on and if he was being honest, he liked it. It wasn’t the same as stepping into a party, getting flanked by a few people, finding some bedroom, and having a threesome. First of all, there were five of them in total and they couldn’t exactly have a threesome without two being left out. Second of all, all flirting and jokes aside (mostly only with Thor), this wasn’t exactly about the team hooking up. If it was, Tony doubted anyone would bother with the other stuff like bringing him coffee, staying up or getting up at weird hours to make sure he wasn’t alone in the workshop and lab, carrying him around when he wasn’t too tired to manage words, but to make his feet work, and to know that he liked pancakes more than french toast without him even saying a word.
Actually, now that he was standing there with a plate in his hand, watching Rogers flip the next batch of pancakes, he couldn’t remember ever actually eating breakfast around the team. At best if he’d shown his face in the last few months it was just to grab a cup of coffee and fake enough of a smile with a wave to stop anyone that saw him from starting a conversation.
It was a wonder any of them did anything nice for him at all.
“Pancakes?” Tony asked, mid-brain short circuit instead of waiting.
“Yeah,” Steve answered, looking up briefly, adding a nod.
“You said I like them more than french toast?”
“I did.”
Tony figured out then he needed to be blunter with his questions. “Care to give me the ‘how’ and ‘why?’ Maybe the ‘who,’ but I don’t really care about the rest.”
“Well, I asked JARVIS and, considering Clint and Thor will eat anything I make, and Natasha and Banner aren’t picky…” Steve said, trailing off with a shrug.
“I’d eat french toast,” Tony defended and he could admit it sounded dumb outside of his head.
“But you like pancakes more.” Steve smiled simply and maybe Tony felt like a little bit of an ass for even questioning in the first place.
Steve held out a plate to him. Tony took it, mumbling out a “thanks” before he left for the workshop.
Tony tried to convince himself that Clint hadn’t been subtle, but somehow he hadn’t thought twice about pizza and a movie on Clint’s floor, on his sofa, until about the third slice in.
The spy (or agent or whatever SHIELD liked to call him) had come down to ask about the progress on the arrows Tony was working on for him so he knew when he could work with them more. Conveniently enough, they were done; a lighter design so Clint could carry more, but not sacrificing the balance so the archer didn’t have much of an adjustment. Not that it mattered because the guy could hit his mark throwing a banana across the room.
Tony realized, the more he thought about it, that he lived with a fairly sexy group of people.
Bruce was off speaking at some college in the midwest so he wouldn’t be sharing the space and Tony was already feeling the cold chill on his spine from being alone. Clint asked about pizza and a movie which were two things that fit perfectly in Tony’s interest so he wasn’t about to say no and sit around feeling lonely in the workshop that night. It was a weird thing because the engineer couldn’t remember having this much trouble with the idea of being alone before, but then again, it didn’t exactly escape his notice that he didn’t have triple the amount of nightmares and deep thoughts as before.
It was like he was heat-seeking, but for comfort instead and that’s exactly how it felt around the tower; he could always find someone before too long.
Or, in the case of Clint’s little proposal, they would find him.
But Tony still hadn’t exactly realized that was all of their intentions until he’d settled back on the sofa and he gradually leaned into Clint’s hand that was playing with his hair more and more. He wanted to ask exactly how the archer knew that was a weakness like he was some cat, but he also didn’t want him to stop. Just like he didn’t want to call Clint out on it because he didn’t want him to stop.
Plus, Tony only wanted to have the conversation once with the other three included. Maybe it was some sort of character growth for him to not instantly do what his pride said or maybe it was selfish to take the comfort he was getting, but he didn’t care; he was full on pizza and Indiana Jones was on the TV.
“You know, I don’t need everyone to take care of me,” Tony said, causing everyone (Bruce, Steve, Clint, and Thor) to pause and look at him. It had taken about two weeks for Tony to catch them all alone in one space and he decided to wait until after dinner because he didn’t want a full table staring at him.
But now the whole group had turned around to stare at him with a vast array of confusion and, in Bruce’s case, one wince.
“I know what you’re all doing,” Tony continued since he was just going to take the expressions as a “what” he wasn’t probably going to get. “Despite what the public and some other assholes have thought, I don’t need someone to take care of me. I know when to go to bed or how to eat or whatever else you don’t think I can do.”
The four stayed quiet for a while; the three that were confused caught up to Bruce’s mildly guilty-looking expression. In the silence, Tony’s heart pounded, feeling a little bad about calling them out since it wasn’t like they did anything bad at the end of the day, but he didn’t let it show. He wanted them to know they both were dealing with someone with a decent amount of pride, but also someone who probably didn’t deserve what they were trying to do since they clearly weren’t looking back on how it ended with Pepper.
Steve spoke first after tossing a few glances at the other three, taking a step forward, he confessed, “we weren’t trying to imply you couldn’t take care of yourself.” He dropped the posture in his shoulders a little. “But I’m sorry anything I did made it seem like that.”
“We just care about you,” Bruce said, the corner of his mouth turning up. “You’ve done a lot for me that I didn’t think I’d ever have or deserve again.” He paused before he shook his head. “Not that that’s the only reason.”
“You are very attractive and adorable as well,” Thor added, grinning.
Clint elbowed him in the arm; Thor didn’t even flinch. “We told you, humans don’t like it when we’re called adorable,” Clint said before turning to look at Tony. “Even if it’s true.”
Tony opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, and closed it again. He guessed, looking back, at all the actions laced with mild flirting, he should’ve expected this to be the response. He hadn’t really thought about how he’d set some precedence, taking care of all of them too, or that maybe they all found him about as attractive as he found them. Thor was some sort of powerful alien that may or may not be a god depending on someone’s definition.
What came to be even more shocking, it was like they all seemed to come to an agreement that they were all going to give him love simultaneously which really hadn’t crossed Tony’s mind as a good bonding exercise until that very moment. That was probably because he didn’t think he deserved to be the center of the circle of affection.
But then, when he looked at all of them - and maybe feeling a little vulnerable - he could accept it.
He sniffed, swallowing a swell of emotions, moved to the sofa in front of the TV, and bent down to pat the cushions. “Okay, you’re going to have to share me and I get to pick the movie for date night,” he said, looking up at them.
While Thor, Steve, and Clint all leaped over the back of the sofa and sat down, Bruce rounded it, taking a spot toward the middle. Tony sat next to him, Thor on his other side, Steve next to Thor, and Clint next to Bruce.
“J, turn on the longest movie I’ve seen before,” Tony said, resting his head on Bruce’s shoulder and taking Thor’s hand.
It was one of the Lord of the Rings extended editions, but Tony didn’t pay enough attention to which one because before the title even showed, Clint was already playing with his hair and managed to coax him into laying across Bruce’s lap, legs draping across Thor’s. Steve started to massage his feet and Tony couldn’t stop his contented moan.
“You’re all poster childs for sharing,” he murmured.
Clint snorted. “Nah, you’re just easy to spoil,” he said, rubbing Tony’s scalp.
“Rich kid, remember?” Tony smirked before he turned his head to bury it against Bruce’s stomach. Tony could feel him laugh and his heart fluttered.
Maybe he’d been an idiot for not embracing being taken care of sooner.