Kitchen

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"Steve, put me down. Now," Tony insisted, pounding on the larger mans back with a fist. After Tony had refused to come up for lunch, Steve threw him over his shoulder and carried him up. And Tony was trying really hard to be upset about it, but damn, Steve was chiseled.
"Fine," Steve said smugly, setting Tony down on the kitchen floor.
"I hate you," Tony grumbled.
"You do not," Steve insisted.
"Fine. But you're on my list," he warned. Steve laughed.
"Heeeeyy, my boys!" Sam called, taking the stairs two at a time to join them. "What's hanging?"
"Why did you start talking like that? Is it cos you're hanging with Clint? He's a bad influence," Tony said.
"Maybe. What're you two up to?"
"Tony's going to eat," Steve said proudly, like making Tony eat was his greatest accomplishment in life. Which made Tony smile to himself a little, because that was super adorable, but the Cap was not adorable, no, stop, Tony no, do not think into this, he just doesn't want you to die, stop being a narcissistic asshole.
"You seen Marie an May?" Sam asked. Steve made a concerned face and nodded at him. Tony looked up in surprise.
"What happened? When did they get back?"
"Yesterday? And Marie had some... Problems. Cos you know, never a day off in our line of work," Sam said, being rudely vague and barely answering the question. But whatever. All these superheroes and their secretive bull.
"Marie can handle herself. She's not a baby," Tony scoffed.
"She's kindof like a baby," Sam contemplated, and Steve shrugged in agreement.
"Whatever. I have ten minutes for lunch and then i'm going back down to make Nat a flat iron and email Pete articles on teen pregnancy," Tony sighed.
"So?" Cap asked, crossing his arms.
"So move, blondie, you're blocking the fridge!"
"Oh yeah," he smiled, stepping away. "Forgot you were so short,"
"I forgot you were such an asshole," Tony shot back mockingly. Steve gave him a bitch face, and where the hell did Cap learn to be that sassy, what the fuck, was Clint teaching him to be an asshole or something?
"I can walk, Bruce! I'm not BLIND!" Clint protested loudly as he came down the stairs, stomping angrily. Bruce was guiding him down carefully by the arm, as if he were- blind, yeah, what Clint said. Weird that he was right about something for once. He tried to shove Bruce off of him, but the man was pretty strong on account of his green side. Clint sighed exasperatedly when Bruce let him go in the kitchen. "Are you gonna keep doing this?"
"Yes," Bruce said defiantly, signing it at the same time like that somehow made his point better. Clint rolled his eyes and flicked his hand out from under his chin at Bruce, and that one Tony knew meant "fuck you" (he knew the basics of how to tell people off in over 200 languages).
"Where's Nat?" Tony asked. "I want coffee,"
"She's looking for my earpieces. Cos she thinks someone took 'em,"
"I thought you were deaf?!"
"I can read your lips, stupid, s'long as you don't talk as fast as you usually do,"
"I don't talk fast,"
Clint gave Tony a judgemental bitch face. That confirmed it, without a doubt, they were all meeting up behind his back and having "Let's piss Tony off becase we're assholes" meetings where they taught Steve how to be a little asshole and plotted Tony's death.
"Eat," Steve commanded, grabbing something off the fridge shelf at random and shoving it at Tony.
"This is a gallon of milk," Tony said slowly and condescendingly, shaking the jug for emphasis.
"Oh. Well don't eat that,"
"Down it! Do it Stark, do it!" Clint pleaded. Tony raised an eyebrow at Clint.
"Why?"
"Because i'm deaf so you have to feel bad for me and do what I say or Nat'll kill you so do it!"
"Fine. But I may throw up," Tony warned.
"Whooo!" Clint and Sam cheered. With a deep sigh of exasperation, Tony unscrewed the cap and drank. And drank. And drank. And drank. And then there was no more milk, so he swallowed and put down the jug.
"We good?" He asked. Clint's eyes widened in admiration.
"That was AWESOME!" He cheered.
"Great. Now can I go back downstairs?" He sighed, turning Cap.
"Absolutely not. Actual real food. Not milk,"
"But-"
"No but's, Stark,"
"But I like butts, Rogers,"
"Like them on your own time,"
"This IS my own time! You kidnapped me!"
"So it's my time which means you do what I say,"
"Or what?"
"Or I go down to your fancy lab and start breaking stuff,"
Tony looked horrified.
"You wouldn't!"
"I would,"
"Fine! I'll eat! But there's nothing in that fridge!"
"Then lets go," Steve said curtly, grabbing Tony's arm and pulling him out the front door. The kitchen was silent as the three men gave each other confused glances.
"Did... Did they just argue themselves into a date?" Clint asked.
"Yes," Sam nodded. And then Bruce signed yes, because Clint wasn't looking at Sam and therefore didn't catch his answer.
"Someone has to tell Marie," Bruce said solemnly.
"I'll do it!" Clint squealed, racing up the stairs.
"No! Clint! Stop that!" Bruce called, chasing after him. Sam watched them for a minute, and then decided to grab his wings and jump out the window.

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