Chapter Text
“Rhodeeeeeeeey!”
Steve turns in time just to see Tony launch himself at a tall man decked out in full dress uniform with a box of doughnuts in hand.
“Donuts, you brought me donuts! Oh honey bear, I knew you were my favorite for a reason!”
The other man laughs as he holds the doughnuts above his head while Tony tries to climb him like a tree. Steve looks back down at the non-doughnut omelets he’s making and frowns. What was wrong with omelets? They were good for you and much tastier than a few fried bits of dough with sugar on top.
“Oh come on sugarpie, gimme some! Rhooooodey pleeeeease,” Tony whines, practically wriggling against the other man.
Honey bear? Sugarpie? How come this fellow got all the endearing nicknames while Steve got called things like ‘Capsicle’ or ‘Ken 2.0’ or something along those lines? Of course, it wasn’t like Steve wanted to be called honey bear or anything like that, especially by Tony. But still, something a little more fond than ‘Captain Stick-up-his-ass’ would be nice.
Rhodey only responds with a teasing grin down at the whining genius practically wrapped around him, white teeth flashing. Steve watches irritated as Tony and Rhodey continue to play a rather handsy version of the out-of-reach game with the donuts.
He grits his teeth in an effort not to simply stalk over and snatch the box out of the man’s hands and toss the greasy, unhealthy snack into the trash. Tony ate enough junk food as it was; someone needed to watch out for his health.
The thought also suddenly occurs to him that that shiny white smile would make a superb target for a punch.
“Um, hey Cap, the omelets are burning.”
Steve blinks and turns to look at Clint and Natasha. He’d forgotten they were there.
“Omelets?” He queries.
“Yeah,” Clint nods at the stove behind Steve, “The omelets you’re supposed to be making right now?”
Steve turns around and sure enough there was thick black smoke rising from the pans. Hastily he grabs the pan off the stove and scrapes the now burnt omelets out onto a nearby plate. Natasha walks up beside him and pokes at the ruined breakfast with her fork. She turns to him with a raised eyebrow and Steve flushes with embarrassment.
A whistle cut through the air nearby and Steve tenses as Rhodey walks over to take a look at the aftermath. Tony waltzes up behind him stuffing his mouth with a doughnut with one hand and the rest of the box tucked under his arm.
“Huh, looks almost as bad as the ones Tony tries to for make me.” He comments. Tony immediately launches into protest that it had been the instructions on the back of the box that was faulty, not his cooking.
Steve clenches his fists and bites back the demand to know exactly why Tony was making omelets for Rhodey of all people. It was none of his business who Tony made omelets for, even if he did think it was rather unfair that Tony never bothered any for the Avengers. Like Steve.
Rhodey smiles widely at him and offeres a crisp salute.
“Colonel James Rhodes. Honor to meet you Captain. Tony’s told me a lot about you.”
“Yes, I believe Tony’s mentioned you a few times too.” Steve replies back coolly.
He doesn’t salute back. He does however attempt to smile back the man that Tony was forever waxing on about and let wear one of his armor (not the latest model but still) and apparently constantly calls by endearing pet names. Going by the looks on everyone’s faces, Steve’s smile could do with a little work.
Steve clears his throat. “Well, I, um, should probably take care of this,” He waves a hand vaguely at the charred remains of breakfast. He turns around quickly before he can embarrass himself any further and begins scrapping at the pan vigorously. Behind him, Steve can hear Clint and Natasha introducing themselves to the Colonel.
A few minutes later, Tony drags the Colonel away down to his workshop, having decided that his most ‘darling cupcake’ just had to come check out the latest Iron Man armor because quote unquote ‘it’ll have you on your knees begging for an upgrade to War Machine’.
After they leave, Steve carefully does not imagine the Colonel on his knees in front of Tony, just the two of down there in Tony’s workshop. He does not think of the way Tony lit up at the mere mention of the other fellow and how casually, perhaps even eagerly, Tony had pressed right up against his ‘honey bear’ just moments ago supposedly in the name of doughnuts.
He really doesn’t because it was none of his business whether or not Colonel Rhodes was down there actually checking out the armor or the man that normally wore it. None. At. All.
“If you scrub that pan any harder, there’s not going to be any pan left.”
Clint’s voice startles him out of his thoughts and into dropping the pan he’d been washing. Steve turns his head to see Clint and Natasha staring at him with carefully blank expressions. They were laughing at him. Yep, definitely laughing at him. He’d forgotten about them. Again.
He picks up the pan again and assesses the now patchy looking bottom of the pan guiltily. Perhaps he’d been a little overenthusiastic with his scrubbing. Steve sighs and rinses it off before drying it with a towel and putting it back in the cabinets.
Steve turns back to the other two and nods curtly at them before leaving the kitchen. As he walks out, Clint begins to say something only to be interrupted by an elbow and a command to shut up via Natasha. Steve ignores both of them and heads back to his room to change into his workout clothes. He could do with a few hours with a punching bag and if he were to imagine a certain someone’s face while working out…well, no one had to know.