*
Tony hates those long periods of uncomfortable silence. It just makes him wanna blab more.
He discovers everyone's gathered out in the lounging area of Avengers Tower.
Steve and Clint are on different sofas, resting their palms to side of their jaws, looking vacantly out of the high-rise into the warm, rainy evening. Bucky peers up at Steve's features contemplatively and then hangs his head, touching lightly over his new vibranium arm (courtesy of Shuri's good graces). He keeps to himself most of the time, grunting and using one-word sentences.
Natasha slouches next to Clint, focused on tapping at her mobile-screen, one of her legs propped to his thigh. Her bright red hair loosely dangles over her shoulder in a half-braid. Clint's other hand massages Natasha's bare calf with gentle, friendly intent. Peggy sits on the opposite side of Natasha, her dark hair wet and uncombed. She wears a pink, terry-cloth nightrobe, arms crossed over her kneecaps. There's curious and sneaking glances at Plague Inc. flashing red on Natasha's smartphone.
Sam wanders around the lounging room's floor, picking up Bucky's thermos on accident and chugging. Bucky shoots him a glare, but nothing on the level of the Winter Soldier's deadliness. The other man scoffs out a laugh, walking back around.
Tony surveys all of his teammates in complete disbelief before snapping his fingers.
"Look, guys—I've got an idea—"
"No," they all speak up at once. Natasha and Steve's voice sound the dullest but more forcible.
"Whoa, okay, okay—at least hear me out before collectively rejecting what I've got to say like a bunch of dweebs."
"Says the dweeb," Sam quips, now sipping a beer bottle.
Tony mocks Sam's earlier laugh. "It's Valentine's Day, okay? Everyone's a little down. I got that. I can see that." He presses a hand dramatically over his heart—well, his Arc Reactor. "I myself am cranky due to Ms. Potts forgetting the very expensive and romantic dinner we had planned and flying herself out to Morocco for a business trip—"
"I believe you forgot about that trip," Peggy says, her accent thick with drowsiness. She frowns. "You asked Pepper to go instead, Mr. Stark." Tony ignores that very correct observation from her, patting off his hands and grinning.
"—so how about we all play a game?"
Natasha cocks an eyebrow. "What kind of game?"
"A fun one, Ms. Romanov," Tony informs her. He presents out an old, worn Twister spinner from behind him. "Behold."
To his delight, Sam and Clint nod. At least Tony has got two of them wrangled in. Peggy seems confused. So does Bucky. Steve inhales tightly, recognizing the game but not say anything. Tony knows all three of them never played Twister.
"If it's not being done while naked, then I'll pass," Natasha mumbles aloud, smirking.
Clint's eyes widen. "Nat—"
"Oh, you are brilliant," Tony declares, grinning harder. He motions to Natasha. "Brilliant, I say. Incandescent. A marvel."
"Tell me something I don't know."
Bucky's features tense. "I think I like men," he admits. "Romantically."
Silence infiltrates the lounging area. Peggy's mouth forms into a little 'O' of surprise. Sam takes another mouthful of beer, gulping and shaking his head, walking away to the minibar. Tony slaps a hand to his face, groaning. Good lord. Clint is giggling.
Natasha straightens up, her eyes softening with understanding. "Oh, honey—"
"Yeah, yeah, champ—we already knew that—" Tony blurts out, seeming exasperated. "You and Mister Star Spangled Knucklehead over here are more obvious than Ms. Romanov and Barton. So relax on the eyefucking once in a while."
"Don't be an asshole, Tony," Steve barks.
"Whoa—"
"Hey—"
"Watch your fuckin' language, Rogers—"
He rolls his eyes in good-natured defeat at the joke when his teammates burst out laughing. His friends. All of them are friends, Tony realizes proudly. Steve glances to Bucky, pink-cheeked and wheezing along, holding comfortably onto Bucky's knee.
"Avengers!" Tony hollers cheekily. "Strip!"
*