Work Text:
Despite being a technological whiz kid, Tony never really played any video games growing up. Or maybe it’s because of it. He’s always just seen them as sort of boring, and was far more interested in taking them apart to check out the wiring and programing. And his father had never scolded him for breaking into the consoles because it meant Tony wasn’t sneaking Howard’s projects out of his lab.
So he knows plenty about games, because the entertainment department has a few platforms, but he’s not really into any of it. Or, he’s not until Steve starts to show an interest.
And that is entirely Clint’s fault. Clint is a gaming fiend. He plays all the time, any platform, any genre. Clint drags Steve into the entertainment rooms to explain a few of the classic games, the Tetris, the Mario series, things like that, and eventually Steve starts getting into adventure games. He doesn’t like the mindless war games—he lived them after all—but things like Zelda, where there’s hours and hours of puzzles to solve and dungeons to explore. Steve is all over that.
And because he can’t resist those baby blues, Tony just goes ahead and buys every platform he can get his hands on, aka, all of them. Everything from Atari to the Wii. Kind of like it was with their movie nights, video game night starts out as a simple thing, just a few of them playing a couple of rounds or missions or races. And then it suddenly explodes, and everyone is there, and Tony’s wondering if now maybe he needs to buy a bunch of gamer chairs.
Everything is civil until Darcy suggests a massive Mario Kart tournament. Really, Tony should have known it would end in a blood bath. There’s just too many competitive people gathered in an enclosed area. And Mario Kart can bring out the worst in people. By the end of it, Tony and Clint are screaming obscenities at each other that make even Thor blush, Natasha has shot her controller, and Pepper, Jane, and Darcy gang up on Steve and nearly reduce him to tears. Coulson is quick to offer his comfort and defense. Surprisingly, Bruce is completely zen through the whole thing.
They take a break from Mario Kart for a while after that, but not from the competitions. When they play Call of Duty or Halo, they split into teams, Clint and Tony usually serving as opposing captains. Because Tony is really starting to get hooked on all this. Or hooked on beating Clint into the ground anyway.
“You’re all ridiculous. You do this sort of thing on an almost daily basis. The virtual aspect has to be infinitely less exciting than actually doing all this,” Pepper comments even as she settles into her chair and slips on her headset to start barking out orders. Tony grins at her. He always claims her as his lieutenant.
The only problem with playing online is just that. It’s online. It’s open. Randos can just waltz into the game whenever. After their first encounters with online gamers, Steve was left scandalized, and Thor fried half the electronics in the room. Darcy had calmly offered them poptarts and brought them into the other room to explain that the online gaming community is mostly made up of pimply faced twelve year old boys or overweight nerds who still live in their parents’ basements. “The chicks are cool though,” she had told them with a wink.
Of course, knowing that doesn’t keep them from losing their tempers with the little snots. Pepper, even in between her rants, is constantly relieved at the anonymity of playing online. It keeps her from having to scramble to smooth things over with the PR people.
Again, surprisingly, no amount of ignorant, crude, teenaged insults has any effect on Bruce. He just smiles, chuckles lightly, and continues on his merry way planting bombs.
So the video games, despite some draw backs, are fun and team bonding and all that good stuff. But then Tony starts to notice that the NES is constantly being broken. Now, the nice thing about all of them when it comes to broken stuff is that it happens all the time, and all of them are guilty of it, so no one ever tries to hide or deny it. Well, maybe that’s not the nice thing about it. But the point is, people fess up when things break. But no one Tony has talked to has any idea about the NES, and it’s a bitch to keep replacing the damned thing since it’s so old.
It takes months before they finally learn who’s behind it. It’s a pretty relaxing day. Thor, Pepper and Clint are up on the rooftop pool, swimming with Loki, who has somehow magicked himself into the body of an eight year old and is being cared for by his older brother. Natasha is scrapbooking—Tony hadn’t asked any further questions—and the rest of them are in the various entertainment rooms. Steve is playing Ocarina of Time again, Darcy walking him through the Water Temple, while Bruce plays his own game and Tony and Jane ramble a mile a minute about building their own Bifröst.
Suddenly, the Hulk is roaring, and there’s the sound of giant fists slamming into cheap plastic and wires. Darcy is screaming, Steve is shouting, and Tony and Jane run in to see what’s going on. Hulk is raging and stomping on the crumbled remains of the console. “YOU LAUGH AT HULK,” he thunders. “NOW HULK LAUGH AT YOU!” And with a booming laugh that really sounds more like a noise a pissed off dinosaur would make, the Hulk turns and jumps out of the window.
“Oh come on,” Tony cries. That’s the fifth window broken this week.
They don’t get explanations until two days later when Bruce shuffles back into the tower. Tony pushes off from the kitchen island and stands towering—as towering as his one inch of superior height allows—over him with his arms crossed and a frown in place. It’s the same posture his parents used when they caught him taking apart the air conditioning units during a heat wave when he was six.
“Sorry,” Bruce mumbles sheepishly.
Tony sighs. He can’t really stay mad at Bruce. Bruce is his science bro. He’ll just make Bruce be the dummy next time they need to shock something. “How exactly are you all zen master against the X-box kids but an ancient NES takes you out? Can’t handle the princess being in another castle?”
Bruce’s expression darkens, and a few people tense up as he all but growls, “It’s that son of a bitch Duck Hunt dog.”