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Tony was kind of addicted to coffee.
It wasn’t obvious or dangerous, like the other addictions he had, but his coffee was a morning necessity and it needed to be perfect and after the fifth cup of substandard ilk that Tony was pretty sure Dummy must somehow be responsible for, he sat down at his bench and glared at his blueprints and decided that this was a matter of Supreme Importance.
The first machine kind of… exploded, and wow, Tony did not think coffee could be that flammable. He spent about five minutes considering weaponised methods of assault, up to and including scalding the enemies, before he shook his head and got back to work.
The second machine actually made coffee, but it was the same mediocre crap JARVIS kept politely saying was ready for him downstairs.
Five hours, a cram session in the molecular gastronomy of coffee itself, research on refinement and really fancy expensive coffee and flavours, some quick modifications to his arc reactor designs so it would fit and properly power a coffee machine (at this point, they were easier for Tony to make than normal power sources, and it just felt weird using something like normal electricity), and his next machine was done.
He made a cup (it only took 30 seconds with arc reactor technology, which he thought was just another fantastic point for modern Stark Technologies innovation at its finest) and took a sip.
“JARVIS,” he called out.
“Yes sir,” JARVIS replied.
“I want this in red,” he pointed at machine number three.
“Of course, sir,” JARVIS said.
“I also want a cat,” Tony said, taking another sip of his coffee. Ah. He was truly a genius.
“A cat? ...May I ask why, sir?”
“I need it to poop out some coffee beans for me.”
_____
Tony eventually decided against the cat, if only because, as JARVIS pointedly reminded him, he was allergic.
He still bought the fanciest beans he could find, importing them from Columbia and putting them next to his new, fancy red coffeemaker, which he had generously installed in the kitchen of the Avengers Mansion.
“What’s that?” Natasha asked, staring at him suspiciously.
“A coffeemaker,” he said. She snorted.
“Of course it is,” she muttered. “Just like how the last thing you made for the mansion was ‘just a toaster’, right?”
“No,” Tony said, with some dignity. “And it’s not ‘just’ a coffeemaker, I’ll have you know, Miss Romanoff. It’s actually the best coffeemaker there is.”
“Really,” she said dryly.
“Of course,” Tony said with a grin. “I made it.”
_____
“Oh my god,” Natasha said approximately 45 seconds later, eyes wide. “This is really good coffee.”
“I told you,” Tony said, smug.
_____
“Man of Iron!” Thor yelled two days later, stomping into the lab where Tony was virtually arguing with Pepper over really, just a small one, I don’t know why you’re so vehemently opposed to cats.
“Yes, hello Thor, God of Thunder, guy with hammer, etcetera, etcetera, you know you can just call me Tony, right?” he said, turning off the screen where Pepper was making an extremely unimpressed face and basically being Disappointed In His Life Choices again, which was boring.
“Tony,” Thor repeated. “You are a glorious man, and you shall be praised in Valhalla.”
“Cool,” Tony said. “I think so too.”
“Your coffee machine,” Thor said, “is most wondrous.”
“Oh, is that what this is about?” Tony said. “I thought you were just, you know, saying in general. But that’s cool too. Natasha thinks I should market it. I think she just wants one for herself, though.”
“It is the most amazing coffee I have ever tasted on Midgard,” Thor said, beaming at Tony.
“Yeah, great,” Tony said, something occurring to him. “Hey, Thor, you didn’t break my coffeemaker, by any chance, did you? Because I follow your Facebook page.”
“I do not understand that reference, but no, I did not break your machine,” Thor said.
“Okay, good, then we’re good. I wonder if I could talk Pepper into selling coffeemakers through Stark Industries,” he said, glancing back at the now-blank screen.
_____
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Tony, they use arc reactors. We can’t sell coffeemakers powered by arc reactors!”
“But—”
“No. No coffeemakers, no cats. Just. No, Tony.”
_____
“So I’m opening up a coffeeshop,” Tony announced to the room at large at the next team meeting. They were discussing the current HYDRA threat that was terrorising New York, but really, it was pretty easy, logistics-wise. Get in, disable the robots, get out. Tony was just livening up the atmosphere, really.
“That’s nice,” Hawkeye said placidly.
“With the new coffeemaker thing?” Black Widow asked.
“Yup,” Tony replied.
“Fantastic!” Thor said.
“Can we please stay on task,” Captain America said, glaring at the four of them in disapproval.
“Come on, Cap, a coffeeshop seems exactly your type of place. You can sit around drinking those mocha frappe things and make super-pretentious art.”
“Shut up and get to work,” the Captain said, and Tony grinned, lowering his mask.
“What about you, Bruce?” Tony asked. Bruce was still Bruce, because he always tried to hold off transforming until the last possible second.
“I prefer tea,” Bruce said with a shrug.
Tony made a mental note.
_____
Tony upgraded the coffeemaker. He kept the original—number three, that was—but he expanded the design for fancy, commercialised, coffeeshop-level coffeemakers.
It took four tries, this time, but in the end, he had a shiny, arc-reactor-powered, espresso, cappuccino, and coffee maker, ready for the average coffee consumer.
“Ha,” Tony said, “take that, Starbucks.”
_____
“‘Tony’s Tea and Coffeshop’,” Steve said, reading the sign that Tony gestured at. “Seriously?”
“The tea’s for Bruce,” Tony explained.
“Kind of an unoriginal shop name,” Natasha said.
“It’s named after me, it doesn’t need to be original,” Tony said.
“You added tea for me?” Bruce asked.
“Duh,” Tony said.
_____
He didn’t really run the coffeeshop, at least not most of the time; Tony did actually have a job—several of them, really—and he did spent a lot of his time saving the world.
But sometimes, he was cheerfully man the counter, and make those little mocha frappe things (for Clint, actually, because it turned out Steve took his coffee with two sugars and that was it) and explain all of the things he learned about the molecular structure of coffee to his bemused employees who actually did run the shop. When he stopped to ask, the manager—her name was Meredith, and he should probably give her a raise or something—told him that the shop did actually have a pretty steady stream of customers. They comprised of what turned out to be a pretty even mix of genuine coffee enthusiasts and young programmers eager to meet the legendary Tony Stark.
“Those are my two favourite kinds of people,” Tony told her.
“You should tell us ahead of time when you’re going to come in, so we can advertise,” she replied.
“Right,” Tony said, “scheduling. I can do that.”
He couldn’t do that, but Meredith didn’t seem to mind too much, because he often attracted a crowd anyway when he came in. Often, it was because they’d just finished up dismantling the newest AIM tech or fighting aliens or accidentally destroying New York again, and he was still in his suit (and trailing most of his teammates) when he stumbled through the door.
Natasha ordered something different every time, but she always eventually came back to an espresso. Tony always added an extra shot, because she looked like she needed it, but they both spent their time pretending like he didn’t, which was the way Tony liked it.
Clint usually just ordered his mocha frappuchino with soy milk and gratuitous amounts of whipped cream and sat in the corner with Natasha, letting her steal sips and silently watching everyone else in the shop.
Thor beamed and ordered a Coffee!, with a capital letter and an exclamation point, and Tony usually just made him whatever the hell he felt like making, because he had started becoming pretty adventurous after learning how to make various and sundry weird specialty coffee drinks. Thor always drank them with a smile, and if he knew that Tony was using him as a taste tester for his various concoctions, he never let on. Or protested.
Bruce ordered from the tea menu, always with either a sheepish smile or a haggard expression, if the other guy had particularly haunted him that mission. He tended towards the weirder fancy teas, which delighted Tony, because he thought Bruce would be a simple green tea sort of guy. Instead, it was always some strange oolong or mate flavour and Tony had taken to ordering really exotic and expensive tea leaves to go along with his exotic and expensive coffee, just to see if Bruce would order it. About half the time, Bruce did, and Tony considered it a victory for both his company and his friend-abilities.
Steve ordered his plain coffee, and at first he used to frown at Tony, but now he always smiled hesitantly, and sat in a booth with a lot of sunlight, and looked at the rest of his team in what Tony figured was probably either utter confusion or quiet consideration. By the fifth time, he’d actually stashed a sketch pad in the Quinjet and was working intensely over in his usual booth and Tony decided he’d been right all along, coffeeshops were totally Steve’s thing.
Especially ones where Tony was in charge, but, well. Obviously, Tony being in charge made it the best, so he didn’t blame Steve one bit.
Even Pepper frequented Tony’s coffeeshop on occasion, usually with a beleaguered expression and often just to yell at him because of something, but after the first couple of times she started willingly ordering the coffees he kept trying to distract her with, so he figured it counted.
She still refused to get a cat to poop coffee for him, though.
Rhodey even came in, once, and distractedly ordered an ice tea while he informed the team of an apparent high level kidnapping of a foreign dignitary. They team suited back up, and Steve hastily stowed away his sketchbook, but later, when asked, Rhodey shrugged and told Tony he had a nice thing going.
Fury never came in, but sometimes a man in a suit and zero expression on his face would come to the counter and order a hazelnut latte to go, so obviously Tony started writing Fury’s name on the cup in loopy handwriting and decorating it with hearts.
All-in-all, it was a pretty decent turn out, and so Tony was generally pleased with his endeavours. And since the hangers-on kept Meredith the Manager happy, it was satisfaction all around.
_____
“Did you know that the active ingredient in chocolate, theobromine, and caffeine, are only one hydrogyn bond away from being the same methylxanthine?” Tony said brightly.
“Did you know that I have no idea what you’re saying?” Steve replied.
“Science,” Tony said, “and also food. At the same time. I should’ve gotten a PhD in gastronomy too, it’s fun.”
“…Right,” Steve said.
“Come on Steve admit it,” Tony said, “you like my awesome coffee and my awesome coffeeshop, and being pompous in the corner with your sketchpad and the sun making your hair look all blonde and halo-like.”
“What?” Steve asked.
“Nothing,” Tony said quickly. “I’m just saying you like my coffee obviously, because who doesn’t?”
“Bruce,” Steve pointed out.
“Bruce turns into a raging monster sometimes; I’m absolutely fine with his avoidance of stimulants.”
Steve cracked a smile. “Alright,” he said slowly. “I like your coffee. And your shop.”
“Of course you do,” Tony said, and Steve rolled his eyes, walking away.
Tony felt good about the conversation anyway. No one got punched or almost killed or viciously belittled, so Tony even felt a tiny bit hopeful that maybe Steve would stop actively hating him, or whatever. Not that Tony really cared, obviously, because people regularly hated him, except for how he kind of cared a lot.
Tony took a sip of coffee that he’d made with Number Three, patting his first (third, whatever) little machine fondly, and nodded to himself.
“This was a good plan,” he said out loud.
“If you say so, sir,” JARVIS replied.