oh my god
–
Steve gives him a dry look as he opens the door, glasses in place and MIT hoodie stretched tight across his torso, since he had to borrow it from Rhodey.
Tony grins. ”Just like every guy I had a crush on at MIT. Wait, apart from that one guy with braces- should we get you braces?”
“I draw the line at braces,” Steve says in unison with Tony saying, “No, too far. Okay, get in the car and prepare yourself for the worst date ever!”
–
“Permission to go to the bathroom?”
“Granted,” Tony says. “First out of three, use them wisely.”
Steve scowls before turning away, and Tony scans the crowd until he spots Clint at the bar. He squeezes through and sits next to him, and Clint smiles blearily in a way that assures Tony he is still impressively high on painkillers.
“You’re drooling into your whiskey,” Tony points out, and Clint frowns and wipes at his chin.
“How’s the,” Clint says, and then waves his hand. Blinks slowly. “The thing. Steve thing.”
“The world’s most awful date?” Tony beams. “Next, I’m taking him to old people yoga. Apparently watching it makes your balls shrivel up inside of you.”
Clint snorts, rubs a slack hand over his even slacker face. “Tony.” He puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder, and then on his cheek. “Tony. Do you know why little boys pull little girls’ pigtails on the playground?”
Tony re-positions Clint’s hand so it’s on the bench. “Because they’re so easy to pull. They’re just hanging there, all-“
“Because they like the girl, and they don’t know any other way to get their attention,” Clint talks over him.
“What are you saying?”
“All of this teasing. The el- elaborate date. You, my friend, are in like with Steve.”
“I-” Something niggles at Tony’s chest. “I am not in like with Steve.”
“How much did you spend on this date?”
“14,000 dollars,” Tony answers automatically. “But that’s like a blip to me, like a microscopic blip on a big board of blips that don’t even count- I do not like Steve.”
“You’re putting a lot of effort into a joke,” Clint says, listing loosely to the side. “You should just, just actually talk to the guy, about this stuff.”
Tony is saved from replying when Clint starts giggling, eyes glazed as he slowly slides sideways out of his chair.
Tony pushes him back upright, and on second thought, slides his whiskey away from him. “Thor, stay with Clint and make sure he doesn’t die,” he calls over his shoulder, and Thor starts coming over just as Tony spots Steve coming out of the toilets.
“Pigtails,” Clint slurs pointedly, and Tony decides that all advice given to him by a drooling person is probably best ignored.
–
Steve looks up as Tony sits back down next to him. “What did Fury want?”
“Just checking in,” Tony says, and nods towards the bag of peanuts. “Made any progress?”
“Uh-huh: watch,” Steve says, and then throws a handful of peanuts up in the air, catching maybe one out of ten as the rest clatter to the concrete around him.
Tony bites down on a grin as Steve smiles proudly, saying through a sadly small mouthful of peanuts, “The key is volume.”
With a sinking feeling, Tony distantly starts to re-evaluate what a drooling Clint had told him.
–
all i can imagine is a guy coming up to the tower the next morning and going ‘package for steve? it’s from tony, a ‘thanks’ for last night’ and tony going ‘oh fuck i forgot to cancel’ and steve sitting mortified as the delivery man rips off his tearaway uniform and starts grinding against steve in bright red and gold bootyshorts
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