Work Text:
It was quite the sight: nine decorated, respected Avengers all craning their heads down at the dining table with identical expressions.
“I believe that ends the game,” Vision said. “They’re all clubs, and there’s the 7-8-9-10-Jack—"
“You’re shitting me,” Sam said, glaring at his regular flush like the cards had just revealed themselves to be Skrulls. Steve sympathized, having been cleared out by Tony a few rounds back. He still thought his two-pair was a respectable hand.
“Lady Luck just wasn’t on your side tonight,” Jan said, twirling a card between her fingers.
Hank shrugged. “Join the club.”
“Vision usually doesn’t bluff,” Wanda added.
“Still, I think it’s fishy that the person who won is the android. Anyone with me?” Sam looked around them. “Really?”
“Second place isn’t bad at all with this sort of competition,” Tony said.
“It’s bad when it’s your money on the line!” Clint piped up.
Tony smiled to himself, like he knew exactly how much the Avengers stipend was and how he-as-Iron-Man had put in a clause early on in the Avengers’ lifetime that adjusted that amount yearly to reflect inflation.
Carol, who always put in a terrible show at poker and most board games except Yahtzee, tapped her glass of cider on the table with a wicked grin on her face. “Alright, cut it out with the crying. I think it’s time to make things more interesting.”
The room’s energy, which had been in the relaxed, easy stages of an inevitable end to an enjoyable evening, shifted to curious, anticipatory.
“So? How are we offending Cap’s sensibilities tonight?” Jan asked. She pulled up her legs from the floor to the couch, tucking them to her side. Steve sighed, and Sam clapped him on the back with a smirk.
“Never Have I Ever?” Carol said.
“Ooh. I think it’s been a while since we last played. Time to learn all about everyone’s latest exploits,” Jan laughed. “Let’s get to it, then. Should we refill on drinks?”
“I’ll go get more,” Hank offered. “More cider, Tony, Carol?”
While everyone got ready, Steve racked his brain. He’d long been banned from using anything anachronistic. He had to come up with something good. Just because he didn’t approve of the game didn’t mean he could lose.
He did manage to stump everyone except Vision after he used the fact that he’d never had a pet.
After a few minutes of spirited argument, Hank and Sam reluctantly took gulps of their beer.
“My ants are not pets,” Hank grumbled.
“Redwing’s my partner,” Sam muttered.
That was promptly followed up by a rather somber admittance when Clint said he’d never taken a family photo.
“Do the Avengers count?” Vision questioned.
“If the Avengers count, we’d all drink,” Sam pointed out.
“The Avengers count to me,” Jan said, her face a healthy pink. She always drank, to the point that if she didn’t have to, she took offense.
Steve smiled, although he didn’t drink either. His Ma hated having her photo taken.
“Never have I ever,” Vision hummed. “Kissed a man.”
Carol, Jan, and Wanda immediately drank. No, wait, that was Tony drinking. Steve’s face grew hot. But it wasn’t just Tony, there was also Sam and Clint. And Hank, after he pondered his drink and proceeded to take a deep swig.
Steve frowned at his drink. Really, it shouldn’t have surprised him. Depending on the team, they either got to this point within two questions or ten, but it always ended up at relationships and sex. Tony joked that Steve would have to make a proposal to add a clause to the Avengers charter if he really didn’t want the Avengers to talk about their love lives, and that when your team membership had a statistically unlikely ratio of preternaturally attractive people, these discussions was inevitable. And apparently these very attractive people had more…options for adventure.
“That was a good one,” Wanda said, patting Vision’s arm.
“Just missing Mr. Strait-laced over here,” Clint sighed.
“I actually would have bet you had,” Jan wondered. “Ah well.”
“You were also first out in poker, you should work on your intuition there, Janet,” Tony added.
Carol was watching Steve, pursing her lips. She snapped her fingers. “Never have I ever kissed Tony Stark,” Carol declared proudly.
That was a new one, and Steve didn’t know if he liked the disclosure of team fraternization for…for sport.
He sneaked a glance at Tony, who was swirling his apple cider around in his glass, having an internal argument whether anything he did counted as kissing himself.
“Now that’s a little—” Steve tried. “Tony’s our teammate, that’s a bit disrespectful—”
Jan took a drink, shrugging her shoulders. Right, they’d dated for a bit a few years back, but luckily, they’d both gotten a hold of themselves and broken up.
Wanda took one, and really, that was incredibly inappropriate, what with Vision in the same room. Although Steve couldn’t say he understood what was going on with her, Vision, and Simon right now. Unlike other teammates, he didn’t obsess himself with the details of everyone’s love lives.
Clint, Sam, and Hank also took their drinks, and Steve’s brain shorted.
“Wow,” Jan said. “When did that happen?”
“It was very stupid,” Clint sighed. “We were arguing, back when we were in LA. But well, he helped get me on the team, so I figured I couldn’t punch him. So, I kissed him. Like a really dumb game of gay chicken.”
“Should gay chicken count?” Carol asked.
“Well, I figured out I wasn’t gay, so there.”
Both Clint and Wanda had joined the team after Tony. They’d been barely legal then, not that the founding team were much older (other than Thor), but still. And Tony had gone off into his million-dollar company and then he’d kissed them? They were founders, really, they should be better than that. Even if supposedly the founders had no compunctions about doing anything with each other, except when it left out Steve.
Not that it mattered that apparently everyone else in the world had kissed Tony. Was this some team-bonding activity that Steve had never been invited to? They were all adults, Steve told himself. It wasn’t a big deal. Even if Sam had never dated in the team before, and he was Steve’s partner. Wasn’t that the sort of thing you told your friends about?
“Well, to be fair,” Hank said, “I’d roped Tony into analyzing a biochemical compound from Hala, and I couldn’t figure out why it had such a strong pheromonal effect on Lasius niger. But we figured it out, and I was so happy I kissed him?”
“You all remember these incidents much better than I do,” Tony said airily, when he remembered details from years’ worth of outings with Steve with no issue. Steve twisted his fingers around each other, his skin hot and clammy, and he fancied himself sickly for a moment. Anything to get out of this.
Then it occurred to Steve.
It’d been a few weeks since the incident in South Dakota. Tony admitted to it to Steve from his hospital bed, expression paling even further with the words, that he’d given Steve CPR. Steve had thanked Tony for saving his life, but it didn’t erase the uncertainty and trepidation in Tony’s eyes.
Anyway, CPR. Steve lifted his glass to his lips, taking a slow sip.
Silence followed, before the room erupted.
“When? How?”
“You didn’t tell me?”
“IhavetotellJenwhere’shernumber—"
Steve shifted his gaze to Tony, whose face looked blank as he checked his watch.
“Don’t be so difficult. Steve! Tony!” Jan leaned in. “When did this happen? Wait, doesn’t that mean Steve should have drank last round?”
Tony blinked, swiveling his head to look at Jan. Tony stared at her his mouth ajar, and then his lips peeled back in a smile, and Steve was struck with a sickening dread.
“I don’t kiss and tell, Jan.”
Steve could have brushed it off just like Tony, and no one would be none the wiser. Except Tony, who was astutely avoiding Steve’s eyes.
“Uh, It was back in South Dakota a few weeks back, when the Red Skull released the virus,” Steve cut in. Tony gave me CPR to keep me alive.”
Instead of a chorus of outcry or annoyance, the room went quiet. No one seemed to be interested in looking at anything except their drinks.
“Oh,” Jan said, sinking back into her chair. “Just a technicality then.”
Even Hank seemed sufficiently deflated, and he didn’t care about romance other than what Jan made him care about. Steve’s cheeks grew even hotter.
“I figured that if Hank’s counted, then why not—"
“Weren’t you unconscious then?” Wanda asked.
“Snow White was in a coma and they still count her and Prince Charming as a kiss,” Sam said.
“Well, that was a good one, Carol!” Tony said, clapping his hands together. His voice was unnaturally high. “You got everyone to drink, well, except me. Because….well. So we have our winners for the night!” He drained the rest of his glass. “Anyway, I’m out for the night. I want to make some headway on the Iron Man propulsion system tomorrow. Jarvis has the night off, but you’re all adults. You can clean up after yourselves, right?”
Tony got up, dusting off his pants, before hightailing it out of the room.
“Well,” Steve said. The word hung in the room. Everyone was looking at him. Steve…wasn’t used to being the subject of so many expressions of disapproval.
“Well, what?” Carol demanded.
Steve blinked at her for a few seconds, before getting up and leaping over the back of the couch to run after Tony.
“Tony!” Steve called out when Tony had opened the door to his bedroom.
“Hmm? Oh, hey Steve. What’s up? Are you already done cleaning up?”
“I’m sorry,” Steve blurted. “I went too far.”
“Steve, I told you it’s fine to host parties with alcohol. Carol and I had discussed it beforehand, and—”
“Not that part.” Although Steve still didn’t like that Tony had insisted not mentioning to the rest of the team to cut it back on the alcohol on their account. “I’m sorry for making a scene with you giving me CPR. You saved my life, Tony. You’d do it for anyone.” Because that was the type of person Tony was. “Me using that for a game was disrespectful, and I shouldn’t have.”
“It’s fine, Steve. We’re Avengers. Making fun of our near-death experiences is part of the job description.”
“I wasn’t trying to make fun of it!” Steve sighed. “I just…didn’t want to lose.”
“Steve, the rules are that you lose if you do drink.”
“But I wanted to drink,” Steve said. “Everything else drank, and it was—” He wanted to take a drink about it, and laugh about it, and answer Jan’s questions and laugh more about it. He wanted Tony to share in that laughter.
“You don’t have to worry about that, Steve. For me, everyone loses to you.” Tony’s smile was honest and bright. Steve’s heart skipped a beat before resuming, rapid and alert.
Tony’s grin faltered. “I’ve said as much before, haven’t I? If I had to leave this whole thing behind, there’s no one I’d miss more than you.”
When Tony had said that the first time, back in that bar, it had filled Steve with a sense of awe. The feeling was so much that it even made Steve’s throat choked up. This time around, hearing it, Steve felt uplifted. A swoop in his stomach, like when he flew with Iron Man.
“Same here,” Steve said breathlessly. “It’s the same here, Tony. I'd rather have you than any other Avenger.”
They stared at each other for several long, aborted moments. Tony stepped toward Steve, closing the door.
“Um, Don’t tell Thor?” Steve asked. Tony snorted loudly, and that set Steve off into a fit of laughter.
“Oh my god, Steve,” Tony said. Steve could feel Tony trembling from the effort of keeping his own giggles in. Steve doubled over, and every time he thought he had it contained, Tony would make another funny noise and send him off into another cycle. They both leaned toward each other, close enough that Steve could feel the breath of Tony’s laughter on his skin.
This was exactly why Tony was his favorite. Tony clapped his hand on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve reached up to grab his hand before he pulled it away.
“Steve?” Tony struggled to catch his breath, biting his lip as his chest heaved.
“Would you commit to that?” Steve asked. His heart was racing, but deep down, a part of him knew. There was a calmness within him, that feeling that never wavered, whether it was standing up to Thanos, or Galactus, or Kang, or even more importantly, making a leap he should have done years ago. “Making sure everyone else loses to me?”
Tony blinked at him. “Huh?”
"I cheated.”
“Excuse me?”
“In Never Have I Ever. About kissing you. I drank, but it wasn’t true, not even on a technicality. Being kissed by someone isn’t the same as kissing them.”
“Oh. Oh, so Captain America hates the passive voice as much as my high school English teachers, does he?” Tony’s eyelashes fluttered, and it was quite unfair they were so long and curled so delicately, as Tony looked up from underneath them.
“You don’t want to be a cheat?” Tony asked. Steve let go of Tony’s hand, only to curled his fingers around Tony’s hips.
“No, I don’t,” Steve said, and leaned in.