Peashooters
Steve wakes with a start.
“Morning, sleepyhead!” Tony’s above him, holding an acetylene torch in one gloved hand. “Wanna have fun?”
“Christ almighty.” Steve blinks. “Is the torch involved?”
“Ooooh, kinky.” Tony turns away. “But no. Well, yes.” He pushes a cart out of the way, tools rattling around on the metal surface. “But not in the way you are thinking.”
“I’m not thinking.” Steve sits up, wincing when his back complains. “There is no way a torch can even factor into that sort of fun.”
“Depends on what you’re into, Capsicle.”
“And again, I’m saying no.” Steve needs to stop having these conversations with Tony. “I don’t even want to know what gutter your mind is currently in.”
Tony moves out of his line of vision, and Steve doesn’t want to aggravate whatever muscle he’s pulled in his neck to follow. Tony’s voice lets him know where he’s gotten off to. “No gutters for me today. Just knowledge. Also, not sexy fun, though that could be on the table if you are interested. I promise no torches. But not right now, I’m making guns.”
Steve pauses in scrubbing his hair. “That doesn’t sound fun.”
“But it can be.”
“Which government, and how much?” Tony doesn’t make guns anymore. Steve thinks he’s being blackmailed into it, but the reason is eluding him. It’s also possible he’s reading far too much into it, or his brain isn’t processing yet. “Do you have coffee?”
Tony’s hidden behind a hulking shell of titanium alloy, and sparks are flying. “That is a horrible question, Cap. It’s like you don’t trust me. Of course I have coffee! Machine in the corner by the spot welder. And unless we have become our own micronation, I’m not making weapons for a government.”
“Why do we need guns, then?” Another question comes to mind. “Can we become one?”
“A micronation? Sure. I can make the Tower its own sovereign land.”
“So we’d need a military.”
“Sure. Well, no. Maybe. Yeah.”
Steve gets to his feet. “Why am I sleeping in your workshop? We need guns for the military. I think I get why you are making guns, now.” He doesn’t get it, but whatever, he needs coffee.
“You and Mr. Freeze can be the military, and neither one of you need guns. If you want one, I can get one for you.” Tony sticks his head, welding helmet and all, above the metal shell. “You passed out here a few hours ago after complaining about Bucky and Clint playing HALO in your living room because they broke their television. We are getting off topic.”
“We are? I thought we were talking about guns.”
“Peashooters, Cap.”
Steve stops. “Peahooters?”
“Yeah!” Tony flips the visor up. “Peas. Dry peas. Air compressed BB guns, altered by yours truly. Might need body armor.”
Steve needs coffee, and so does Tony. He makes a beeline for the coffee machine and pours a couple cups. “What time is it?”
Tony shrugs. “Does it matter? By the end of the hour, we will have either a massacre or a fully-functional peashooter army at our disposal.”
Steve blinks, his mug halfway to his lips. “Tell me you don’t have drones armed with peashooters from hell?”
“I do not have drones armed with peashooters from hell.” Tony says. “They have the normal ones.”
“Lord give me strength.” Steve sighs. “Alright.”
“Alright what?”
“Do you have a working prototype?”
Tony fistpumps. “Knew you’d come around to my side, buddy! As a matter of fact, I do have one.”
---------
“I told you, I’m pretty much the best at HALO.”
Bucky growls. “Asshole.”
Clint grins. “The original asshole. You love me.”
“No I don’t. I tolerate you for the great sex and horrible coffee.” Bucky spins his mug on the table. It’s tipped on one precarious edge, a blur of life-sustaining fluid and ceramic. “Not love.”
“Aw.” Clint plops another glob of pancake batter into the pan. “But I’m making you pancakes!”
“You are making your DOG pancakes. You are letting me have one because you feel bad that I suck at video games. Which is an erroneous assumption since I do not suck.”
“You use big words when you are defeated, Barnes.”
“Your mom uses big words when she describes my cock.”
Clint cackles. “Gotta make it sound better than it is, y’know!”
Bucky is just about to rally when a sting blossoms on the back of his neck. Immediately, his hand slaps at it, instinctively worried about darts or remote-controlled bees - hell, who knows what Antman is capable of when he’s drunk and looking to pick a fight - and is proud when he doesn’t freak out. His fingers aren't blood covered when he looks at them.
Then Clint yelps, and Bucky smiles. The next second has him making a similar noise when another sting gets him on the back of his head. "Goddamn it!" He turns around to spot whatever the hell is hitting him. And wouldn't you know it - Steve Rogers is standing in the doorway holding what looks like a paintball gun from hell. And he's got a shiteatting grin on his face. "Rogers. What do you think you are doing?"
In response, the little shit lifts the gun and takes a shot at Clint, who just stands there and lets him. Clint grunts and slaps his hand to his chest, to the right of his heart, and fists his hand. Bucky thinks he's about to make a dramatic death scene right there at the stove. Instead, he opens his hand and shows Bucky the small green pellet - no, a pea. Bucky's eyes widen. He stares at Steve in shock.
"Who the hell was crazy enough to let you near a damned peashooter?"
Steve shoots him with a grin on his face.
"Stop that!" Bucky tries to bat the pea out of the air, missing by a second and getting it on the neck. "You shithead."
Steve laughs. "Tony made it."
"Of course he did." Clint groans. "He's the devil. "
Steve laughs again. "He's got more if you guys want to have a war. Or y'know, start out own micronation."
"What." Bucky groans. "You have got to be kidding me."
"Really?" Clint perks up. "You have my attention."
Bucky groans again. "No. Absolutely not. We are not becoming a micronation."
"Why not? It'll be fun! Tony is in charge of finances."
"No see, that's as bad of an idea as letting Steve go on a date with Pepper."
"Hey," Steve frowns. "It was not that bad."
"You got flustered and spilled soup on the waiter."
"Pepper said that wasn't the worst thing they have dealt with." Steve lowered the gun. "Apparently Keith Richards puked on the carpet in the eighties."
Bucky snorted. "That's the worst thing that's happened? Gimme that!" He dives for Steve and wrestles the gun from his hands. Steve makes unmanly noises and Clint laughs. Bucky stands back up with the gun and shoots Clint in the ear.
"Hey!" Clint growls and drops the spatula. "What was that for?"
Bucky cackles. "HALO, asshole."
"That's it. This means war." Clint pulls out his phone and hits the speed dial. "Hey Nat?"
"I'm a little busy right now Barton." The sound of men getting their butts shipped to them on gift wrapped boxes floats over the connection. "What's up?"
"War on the old people. The time has come. Tony armed Steve with a peashooter."
"A what?" Bones break and a man screams. "Is Tony crazy? They'll poke an eye out with those things."
Steve and Bucky groan as one.
Clint snorts. "Not if I beat them to it. Bucky's just pissed that I beat him in HALO for the tenth time and not he's not playing fair."
"That's because you cheat horribly at that game."
Bucky whoops in delight. "I knew it, you cheated!"
"Did not cheat, not against you!" Clint hisses. "Anyway, as of this moment we are at war. Just wanna know which side you are on, babe."
There a flurry of noise on the other end. Then - "the winning side, as always."
Clint hangs up the phone, then regards Steve and Bucky with a cold glare.
They both realize at the same time why they are glad Clint is actually a good guy. Bucky speaks first. "Uh. Is this because of your hearing aids?"
Clint's smile washes away the ice in his eyes. "Naw just wanted to see if I can intimidate you two." He drops the smile. "But you realize you don't stand a chance against both of us, don't you?"
Now it's Bucky's turn to go cold. "Good luck with that. Howlin’ Commandos. We basically started Special Forces.”
Steve’s smile can cut diamond. “Also, supersoldiers.”
Clint smirks and waggles his brows. “Spies.”
“You’re on.” Bucky elbows Steve in the stomach, never taking his eyes off Clint. “Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you.”
“HALO,” Clint murmurs, and Bucky growls.
“Let’s go, Barnes.” Steve’s voice is gravel. “Gotta prepare the troops.”
They leave Clint standing in the kitchen, phone in hand and a grin on his face.