Tony supposed it was weird in hindsight, but at the time it all made sense.
Well, sorta.
The tower was still habitable post-chitari battle, so Tony gave into his fanboy self and practically corralled Bruce into living with him. The promise of a state of the art lab (obviously it was state of the art, he’s Tony Stark), Hulk proof rooms plus a (completely unnecessary) Hulk Bunker, and science time with a science bro (IE: yours truly) were mostly the all eye-catching reasons to move in.
So Bruce was in his tower, living with him, eating takeout, drinking tea at ungodly hours in the morning (seriously Bruce the fucking sun isn’t even up yet, what the hell), cooking in his kitchen, and sciencing with him! (No Pepper, that explosion was not by accident, pfft. It was a very necessary, mmm-hmm.) It was like having a roommate. Like in college! Except your roommate lived on different floors as you, and you built them a lab to work in (so you wouldn’t be lonely), and he also had a roommate but that roommate was in his head, and honestly this simile was pretty incorrect because it’s really nothing like how it was in college (being that his college dorm with Rhodey was the only example he had for having a roommate) but whatever. He had the Dr. Bruce Banner living with him, it couldn’t get better than that.
Then, Thor moved in.
Yeah, Thor.
Tony hadn’t expected it either, considering he was dating Dr. Jane Foster (who Tony has to meet because he had so many ideas. Like technology that would work on Asgard and Earth so they can communicate with Thor ideas) and she lived in New Mexico. He figured the man would stay in Asgard and visit “his beloved” in New Mexico when/if he came to Earth. But, no.
Instead, on one of the rare occasions Bruce was out of the state—some sort of wet sciences conference or something, Tony’ll double-check with JARVIS on which one it was, but it wasn’t one Tony frequented. He only went to a select few of those because A) back when he picked up one night stands those ones were always super kinky (or totally vanilla, no in-between), and 2nd) that wasn’t his division of science, he’d just leave it to them—he walked out of the workshop at ass o’clock in the morning to find The Norse God of Thunder, Thor Odinson, sitting on his floor surrounded by wires.
It was an absurd picture, this giant of a man in all his blonde-haired glory sitting criss-cross applesauce against his coffee table. A comically serious expression scrunched his face as he held up two tiny wires in his large by comparison hands and attempted to cross the copper bits together. All while holding a roll of black wire tape in his mouth, a strip of it hanging precariously off his thumb. The red, black, white, and occasional blue wires sat like snakes around Thor, the carpet peeking in between the sea of wires.
Tony stood in the doorway—hair most likely all akimbo and greasy from his bender in the lab—blinking slowly, thoughts languid in a way that only happened after a particularly long binge and a distinct lack of nutrients during the course of it. (Those had been happening less and less as Bruce would typically drag Tony out just like Rhodey used to when he stayed with Tony—mother hens the both of them—but Bruce wasn’t here right now.) Tony’s attention trailed from Thor (who hadn’t noticed him yet) and turned to his TV—which was face down on the floor, off the wall mount, and oh that’s where the wires came from.
“Uh,” Tony said eloquently, “Thor?”
“Shield Brother Stark!” Thor exclaimed, dropping his tape, and then looking down at it with a frown, “Oh dear. My most sincere apologies, I meant to have this completed prior to your arrival.”
“Uh-huh,” Tony nodded slowly, “What are you completing…exactly?”
“The voice in the sky informed me you would be a while, and allowed me to entertain myself on this wonder box!” Thor excitedly gestured to the TV that was facing down on the floor, Tony wasn’t sure if he saw glass on his floor, but he wouldn’t be surprised to see the screen was cracked. “However, I could not figure how to operate it.” Thor continued slightly ashamed, going back to the wires.
Something clicked in the back of Tony’s tired brain, “So you took it apart.”
“Precisely.”
Tony shrugged, “I can respect that.”
It was only after Thor came into the tower, that the Avengers really started filing in like ducklings (or something). It was Clint next, crawling in through the roof and being interrupted by JARVIS who directed him to his rooms in the middle of Tony’s science time with Bruce. Natasha, naturally, followed shortly thereafter. Tony basically tripped over her in his kitchen as she was bandaging a twisted ankle or something on the floor. He gave her a bag of frozen peas and sent her to her floor.
Tony actually doesn’t remember when Steve came in, but an amused Bruce informed him that Tony, in search for coffee in the wee hours of the morning, came back to the tower with a large black coffee cupped to his chest and a Steve Rogers following behind him, arms ready to catch the billionaire as though it had happened just moments before. All Tony remembered was coming to and laying eyes on Steve, who was sipping tea next to Bruce, then promptly falling right off his stool at the island.
A comedy of errors was how the Avengers all ended up in one space.
And a comedy of errors was how they got to this point.
After Fury finished grumbling over lost plans and threw away a bunch of paperwork to make room for the new paperwork that indefinitely came with the Avengers all staying in Stark Tower (Avengers tower?) without the need of a contract worked out by SHIELD for Tony—Tony wasn’t surprised that SHIELD was planning on making him house the Avengers. But, he was happy that they came to live with him before they were contractually obligated, even though he now kinda feels like being told to do the dishes after you’ve already planned on doing them anyway. The Avengers initiative became the superhero team Coulson “died” for. (died was a stretch considering the fucker was still alive and frolicking with agents in SHIELD somewhere. Spies were lying liars who lied.)
And, as people do when they live together, they became friends.
Well, that wasn’t completely correct, they had more of a sibling-like relationship (according to Rhodey because Tony didn’t have siblings and his only real experience with them was media. And everyone and their mother—literally, Mama Rhodes said so too—said that siblings on TV were seldom realistic so…), although Tony thought it was more of a cousin-like relationship. Because siblings love each other (you know, cuz at least one of them remembered when the other was a baby and cute and the other remembered the elder as a role model for a least some period of time), but cousins were more contractually obligated to love each other, because family, but behaved more like friends because of the distance. (Or maybe Tony’s only example of companionship was Sharon and Rhodey, but they weren’t gonna talk about that right now.)
“Natasha!” Clint roared from the kitchen at the tender hour of 1 pm. A beat later Natasha tore out of the kitchen doorway, leaping over the couch and coffee table to put distance between her and the now enraged Clint, who barreled after her in a mad dash.
“Give it back!” He lunged for her, as they danced around in a graceful dash for escape and, in Clint’s case, Natasha.
“Get another one!”
“That was the last one!”
Tony, who had ducked behind a side table next to the elevator when he saw Natasha’s escape, sagged against the wall he had pressed up against and blinked slowly, still not fully functioning. It was probably over something stupid like Poptarts, though if it was Poptarts Thor would be here and that would result in several dollars in damage to the furniture (not to the tech though, ever since they met, Thor was very careful around electronic devices. The only time he ever accidentally broke an appliance—naturally, it was the toaster—he cried. Watching the God of Thunder sniffle and cradle a broken toaster was such a conflicting emotional experience.)
Bruce was sitting at the island sipping tea while reading on a tablet. He was perfectly calm, if it wasn’t for the yelling from the other room, Tony would think it was just any other morning (well, afternoon, because Tony often didn’t have breakfast in the common rooms)
“What was it this time?” Tony yawned around the words as he prodded the base of his beloved coffee maker and cooed at it in an attempt to make it go faster.
“Pocky Sticks.”
“Of course.”
In the living room there was a crash and then a string of swearing in both English and Russian, Tony sighed, “There goes a lamp.”
Bruce hummed, “Tragic.”
At that, Tony snickered uncontrollably, doubling over and then resting his forehead on the counter. That was when Steve came into the kitchen, hooking over his thumb over his shoulder as he warily looked over his shoulder.
“They don’t have weapons do they?” He asked, frantically. That only made Tony laugh harder, and Bruce, who was also laughing from the infectiousness of Tony’s hysterics, shook his head.
The elevator dinged and then there was the sound of a body slamming into, presumably, the now-closed doors. Tony’s coffee finished so he composed himself enough to cup the mug in his head and pat the coffee machine before making his way back to his lab, completely ignoring Clint, who was draped out on the couch in defeated dramatics. (And, unknowingly, Steve who gave him a once over as he left, cheeks flaming red.)
Either way, the Avengers were living together and tolerating each other, even if they bickered too much (Steve and Tony), stole each other’s stuff (Clint, Natasha, and Thor), distanced themselves when they were upset (Bruce and Tony), and left for long periods of time (Bruce and Thor).
Life was great.