Summary:
Wherein Johnny Storm develops a gleeful obsession with Captain America whilst Tony sulks at the side.
Or
The time Johnny plays Cupid because he's bored. And because he's a narcissist.
Or
"It's not a—"
"Date."
Follows Causatum verse, but can be read as a standalone.
Notes: Because I went through a huge Evans phase and watched everything in his discography, I had to try my own hand at a Steve/Johnny crackship. Except, they became less crack and more brOTP. I have a serious love/hate relationship with Johnny Storm.
Chapter 1
Thinking back, Steve realises that he probably shouldn't be that surprised that there are other people out there with superhuman abilities. He was the first superhero, granted, but there's no way Clint and Natasha's skill set come across as vaguely human—and that's what they are, and then there's Tony erratic genius with his metal armour, and Bruce, a huge green hulking thing, and Thor, who is actually a god. He isn't quite sure why he's never stopped to think that there are more people like them exist in New York, or at least, the world. Maybe it's because when the Avengers are called in to save the city, there usually isn't anyone else fighting alongside them.
So when he's battling robots against a certain Victor von Doom, he stops after a solid punch to a Doombot's metal jaw to stare at a streak of flame bursting through the sky. At first it seemed like a fire projectile of a bullet, but when the thing lands he realises it's actually human. Steve doesn't get his questions extrapolated because another Doombot creeps up from behind him and nearly sticks a jagged pole into his right rib. He's just wishing that someone would find the actual Victor von Doom amidst the chaos because the doombots get more creepy with every face he hits.
As he maneuvers, he notices Widow taking out another bot with her famous thigh hold crush move, and Hawkeye up on the roof of a building taking out stray bots trying to sneak past the perimeter he had called earlier. Iron man zips past them occasionally with his repulsor blasts in random bursts cursing the trail of bots hanging to his feet, and Hulk does what he does best; smash. They're containing the destruction well, but they will get tired if someone doesn't find the power source to all these robots.
Then out of the corner of his eye Steve sees a lady in a blue suit standing between the debris. A doombot comes up from behind her, and Steve tries to reach her in time. Oddly enough as he's running, the lady shouts at him to duck—and he does—and a ripple of force blasts from her hands like a sonic wave. The force causes a rather loud impact that leaves a ten feet clear perimeter around them.
"M'am?" Steve carefully adjusts his shield as he stands up. "It's dangerous here. I would suggest that you evacuate to road twenty nine down the street."
The lady opens her mouth to answer, but a shout from the other side catches their attention.
"Sue? A little help here!"
Steve grips his shield tighter when he sees a human wrapped around several robots like a rubber band, and he stares and stares because it's just so strange. The lady beside him suddenly vanishes, and then the robots in that rubber human's hold drop like flies one by one. When the man stands up, he looks normal, and the lady reappears again next to him.
It's oddly quiet all of a sudden, and Steve looks around. The doombots further off also lie unmoving on the floor like dolls—someone must have taken out whoever's been controlling them.
"Hey, did no one see that?" It's Iron Man, failing his arms in the air to catch attention several feet away. "I fucking blasted that son of a bitch like a pro—seriously, did no one see that?"
Natasha shoves Tony aside with an eye roll and peers at the blackened mess of metal. "It's not him. Another doombot."
"Who cares?" Clint hops up to them. "It's over. I was running out of arrows."
"Someone tell the big guy that," Tony quips, pointing to a green blob further away from their little group who is smashing two lifeless Doombot bodies together.
"Hulk, stand down," Steve says into his intercom. "We're done."
The Hulk emits an affirmative growl, but not before tossing the metal bodies hard unto the concrete.
"Stark."
The rubber man Steve had seen earlier nods his head towards Iron Man with a look—one that Steve thinks is half irritation and half admiration—and it also reeks of familiarity.
"Reed," Tony—it's Tony, not Iron Man, because he's lifted off the face plate. "What's you and your little blue gang band doing here?" he doesn't even give the other man a chance to answer. "This is all your fault, isn't it?" he accuses, but he's grinning wide. "You finally stabilised that equation for interdimensional travel—that's where these terminator babies keep coming from right? I'm willing to bet your boyfriend stole your machine and hid himself in some other fucking universe and—"
"Stark," this time it's the lady, and she's glaring. "Shut up."
"Oh hey, Sue! I never did ask," Tony grins wider. "Does every part of his body stretch? Like—"
"Hey, she never answered me, so why the hell should she answer you?
Steve is just staring at how someone on fire—literal fire—comes flying up to them and drops with a jog, the heat around them all suddenly flaring up a notch and dissipating when the flames disappears, revealing a younger man in a tight body suit.
"Because I'm Tony Stark," Tony answers like its obvious and the other male sniffs in return.
Steve takes the chance to blurt out the question he's been wondering for very long minutes now. "Who are you guys?"
All heads swivel to Steve. It seems like everyone knows each other—maybe not personally for some, like Natasha and Clint who are watching the exchange curiously on the sidelines, but it's definite that everyone has heard of each other before, perhaps by S.H.E.I.L.D files or something, and he feels a little left out.
"Haven't you been keeping up with the news, Cap?" Tony cocks his head. "I'm sure you've seen at least one of them somewhere—your little clone is on the billboards everywhere."
Steve squints at the one Tony labels as his little clone, which is the one who was on fire, trying to remember if he has seen any one of them before, but his train of thought is rudely interrupted. Fire boy was staring at him with his mouth agape until he wolf whistles, long and low.
"Has anyone told you how fucking gorgeous you are?" The guy smirks, sauntering closer to Steve, so close, that he starts to invade his personal space when the other's finger lingers on the white star on his chest. "Because people have. To me, that is."
"Um," Steve swallows, because he doesn't know what to answer.
Tony bursts into guffaws at the side—totally not helping.
"Johnny." The blonde woman slides him a warning glare.
"Come on, sis!" Johnny bemoans. "It's Captain America! Captain fucking America! Oh my god. He's in an actual official spangly skintight outfit! Look at how his tights curves around his ass!"
"Johnny."
"I know, I know, I saw the news reports but fuck! This is—this is him! In the flesh!" Johnny carries on excitedly, alternating between hands on his sister's shoulders and lightly shaking her, and jabbing in Steve's direction. "And he looks like me! I look like fucking Captain America! This is fucking awesome!"
It's strange, but it's certainly true. There's no denying how the younger man looks kind of like him, except more lithe and slimmer in size. Now everyone else has their eyes shifting back and forth between Steve and Johnny.
"Hey bro, why don't you come around my place at ten, we'll hit the clubs and—"
His sister all but slaps him hard on the back. "JOHNNY!"
"OW—what?"
"I'm embarrassed for you. Now shut up," she purses her lips before turning to Steve with an apologetic look. "I am so sorry for the stupid excuse of a brother I have, Captain Rogers—"
"But Sue!" Johnny cuts in. "He's the guy you wanted to have his babies! You even—mmmggffff!"
"Cap, meet the Bimbotic Four," Tony says, clapping Steve on the shoulder.
"Fantastic Four," The rubber man corrects him, sighing. "I'm Reed Richards, this is my wife Sue Storm and that's her brother Johnny, and—where's Ben?"
"You guys got a medical unit?" A gruff voice appears nearby and they turn to see a rock solid thing carrying an unconscious de-hulked out Bruce in his arms. "He looks like he could use a bit of help."
"Right," Steve doesn't let his eyes linger too much on the orange curiosity, but he figures staring would be considered rude. "Agent—"
"Ready when you are, Captain," Agent Coulson replies over the intercom. "Clean up is already taken care of. Report back to S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters for debrief. Tell Stark that if he attempts to skip out I will taze him in his sleep."
Steve barks a short chuckle. "Roger that. What about um…"
"The Fantastic Four is also required at S.H.I.E.L.D. Directory Fury would like to have a word with them."
Steve relays the message just as a black van pulls up beside them.
"Tony, you are not going back to the tower," Steve states just as Tony prepares to launch his jet boosters. "I need a ride."
"Take the car, I'm not stopping you," Tony replies with innocence.
"I don't think it's a good idea to test the weight capabilities of the vehicle," Steve gestures. "No offense, uh, Ben, was it?"
Usually the van would be big enough to take all of them, but they hadn't counted on having a huge rock solid guy stuffed in it with them.
"Ben Grimm. And none taken."
"I told you to lose some weight!" Johnny crows. "Well too bad for the rest of you, but I'm gonna take off."
"Johnny," Sue starts a low warning in her tone. "S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters. And no setting things on fire along the way."
"But—"
"Maybe Captain Rogers will talk to you a little more if you behave."
Johnny seems to give it a bit of consideration. "If you guys take too long with Mr Eyepatch, I'll leave," he decides finally. "Flame on!"
The blonde woman shoots Steve an apologetic glance as Johnny trails off into the sky. The S.H.E.I.L.D issued van leaves after the rest have settled in comfortably, leaving Steve and Tony behind.
"Thanks, Tony," Steve says as Tony wraps an arm around his waist and lifts them both in the air.
"Yeah well," Tony sniffs. "Agent Nanny would taze me if I didn't, right?"
The blonde soldier laughs. "It's not that bad."
"You're saying that only because you've never been tazed. Remember Darcy Lewis—that crazy girl that likes to hang around Thor's girlfriend? Yeah, she took down Thor with a tazer. A fucking Norse god, Steve."
Both of them are still bantering about the effects of a tazer as they lower down onto S.H.E.I.L.D's rooftop.
"Has anyone ever told you guys how very gay that is?" Johnny is sitting on the ground with his legs spread out, cocking his eyebrow at them.
Tony lets go of Steve waist once they're safely on the deck. "Has anyone ever told you to shut up?"
"Right back at you, Stark," Johnny smirks, and his attention immediately falls to Steve. "So, Cap, I can call you Cap right?"
"I guess—"
"Excellent! You know, I wasn't kidding earlier. You're really fucking gorgeous," he bites back a laugh. "I can't believe no one has ever told you that!"
"Smooth," Tony puts in from the side, almost snickering.
"Can it, Stark," Johnny snips. "Like you're any better."
Tony holds up his hands in mock offense. "Baby, I love me. I don't have to compliment someone else's face for that."
"Fine," the youth slings an arm over Steve. "We're both fucking gorgeous, so fuck you."
"You'll beg for it," Tony replies easily. "Come on, Cap. You need to wash your virginal ears for every second you spend listening to Johnny boy."
Steve only sends Tony a look and sighs, because he's always been the butt of virgin jokes since forever. He's insisted so many times that sex and cussing wasn't invented after the forties, but Tony just likes to tease.
Debrief is a synonym for boring, Tony Stark has it amended rightfully in the thesaurus. He isn't really paying attention to Coulson speaking, just pretending to be. He's glanced over to the rest of the Avengers and he wonders how Natasha and Clint can keep that seriously attentive face when he knows they're not paying attention either—Clint can sleep with his eyes open the fucking asshole, and Tony bets that Clint does it all the time, except he has no idea when. Bruce is in the clinic, unconscious ever since he's de-Hulked out—the poor guy must've been real exhausted or something—and Steve, oh Steve. The one and only person in the room nodding along to Coulson's words.
"—and the next time Victor von Doom appears, the Fantastic Four will be called in as well. Any questions?"
"Any special reason why the Fantastic Four have an interest in this particular guy? Steve asks.
"Personal reasons, I'm sure," Coulson answers. "All the history between them is in the files. I think you'll find your answer there, Captain. That is all. Dismissed."
"I bet its sexual thing," Tony whispers—but not soft enough, because Coulson is rolling his eyes as he exits from the room.
"It's not," Steve says.
"Hey, the two of them—Reed and Vic—were really chummy when they were younger. I wouldn't put it past Vicky—especially since he's the creepy stalkery one."
"You knew them? I mean—even Victor von Doom?"
"Yeah," Tony shrugs. "Knew them since college days. Or something. Can't remember that well. Huh, you'll have to ask JARVIS. Why the sudden curiosity?"
"I just…" Steve looks over to the door wherein Clint and Natasha have left to retrieve Bruce. "It feels like I'm supposed to know who they are—"
"That's only because they've been on the news a couple of times," Tony answers. "Space radiation gave them some superpowers—outed me off the headlines. Oh wait, but that's before you were unfrozen and you've been catching up since the 40s and you haven't hit the 90s yet huh...don't worry. You missed nothing important."
"Oh." Steve exhales. "Okay."
"Come on, soldier, let's get the big guy and jet home."
Of course, nothing is really that simple with S.H.I.E.L.D. Tony groans as he squats along the corridor outside the clinic, his suit nearly taking the entire walkway space. He just wants to go home and eat pizza and chill—its movie night, and he's already listing the movies in his head that he wants Steve to watch, except he must conjure an argument to convince the rest of the Avengers to watch it too. Unfortunately Bruce is still stuck in the clinic, not because he's unconscious, the guy's up and well, but paperwork. Tony hates paperwork, so he's letting the rest of them handle it—the rest of them are happy to have him out of the way anyway.
"Tony, you okay?" Steve squats next to him, frowning.
"No," he sighs. "I'm bored. Can we go now?"
"Patience," the soldier smiles.
It's a tired but genuine smile, including the dimples that dot the supersoldier's side of the mouth. Tony can't help but stuff the stupid retort that was on his tongue back, only to creak an upturn of his lips likewise in return, one that's honest and raw. He's fucking tired—Tony only managed a two hour nap because he was tinkering in the lab, forgetting that he had a meeting Pepper dragged him out for, and they've been battling Doombots since noon started and its nearly hitting seven now. Steve sits down beside him wordlessly and they wait in silence, but it's a comfortable one.
Tony barely registers himself leaning on Steve's shoulder until he jerks up suddenly when Steve pats him on the head. "Hey, sorry, I've got to stand up for a while."
"Don't trouble yourself, Cap," there's a voice, and Tony registers it as a really annoying one because it had been so comfortable.
Johnny Storm grins and crouches next to Steve, and Tony pretends to act nonchalant and groans, creaking his neck and shifting off Steve unobtrusively.
"Johnny, quit bothering him!" Sue shouts from the end of the corridor, arms crossed in cool exasperation. "Let's go! Weren't you the one whining about how you wanted to leave—"
"Just—go! I'll catch up!" Johnny does some faces and hand signs and finally when Reed nods in their direction and slips an arm around his wife waist to steer her away, she relents.
Reed frowns. "If I receive any compliant—"
"Yes, Dad," Johnny rolls his eyes. "I haven't forgotten the deal yet."
The fire youth turns his attention back to Steve once he's left alone. "Johnny Storm," he sticks out his hand, a cocky smirk in place. "I don't think I've introduced myself formally to you yet."
Steve takes the hand, because it's the polite thing to do. "Steve Rogers."
"I know," Johnny grins. "Oh my god I'm touching you."
Steve smiles awkwardly, because even if he's done a whole broadway show and propaganda films and pictures with babies, he still doesn't really know how to act with enthusiastic fans.
"Hands off, Storm. You're contaminating the one and only good thing on earth," Tony states from the side, watching them both with a raised eyebrow.
"Contaminating him with more awesome," Johnny replies, and then ignores Tony. "Cap, are you free tonight?"
Steve blinks, but really he's more confused as to why Johnny is still gripping his hand. Also, because the world works this way, Natasha, Clint and Bruce exit the clinic just as Johnny says, "I wanna take you out."
It's dead silent as Steve tries to rack up a reply.
"Um, I…I've got something on tonight," he manages eventually.
Johnny doesn't even look non-pulsed. "Okay. Some other day then. Saturday? Sunday? When do you have time?"
"How to ask your Captain America out 101," Tony says from the side, expression half amused. "You can't. He's too good for you, little Padawan. Also, I'm pretty sure Cap isn't gay," he muses. "Or are you?"
"Doesn't matter," Johnny grins. "I just wanna hang out. So what say you, Captain?"
Steve avoids the curious stare Tony is sending his way. "Hanging out…yeah, sure. Sometime."
"Sweet," the other smirks, and then lifts up the hand of Steve's he's still holding. He brings it up to his lips and places a long kiss on the knuckles, making sure to keep steady eye contact with the living legend. It's a sweet victory to see a tinge of red colour the super soldier's pale cheeks and watch it flush down his neck. Johnny makes sure to end the kiss with an obscene smack of his lips.
"I'll find you again, Captain Stars and Stripes," he says, grinning a little too hard. He makes a gun movement toward the rest of the Avengers and skips away.
Everyone just stares at the empty hallway Johnny has left until Tony opens his mouth, oddly annoyed. "Hey, that's my line. I call you Stars and Stripes."
"And a bunch of other nicknames I wish you didn't," Steve continues for him. "Can we go home now?"
"I think the question is: Can we discuss just what happened here? Because is Cap's first date going to be with that guy?" Clint frowns, arms crossed over his chest. "That's just weird. Hellooooo, mindfuck."
"Just because he has Steve's face doesn't mean that it's weird," Natasha puts in.
"I think you guys are all focusing on the wrong thing here," Tony states. "Cap is gay."
"I don't want to break this lovely discussion, but I'd really like to eat something now," Bruce says, and everyone scrambles to their feet.
Movie night is every Friday night, wherein it's the education of modern culture for Steve Rogers. It begins when Steve catches Natasha and Clint huddling up to watch horror movies or cheesy chick flicks alternatively one Friday, and then Bruce joins them and added in his own geek list of movies. Tony stumbles in on them in one of the sessions, and it's wordlessly become a thing.
Their seating positions are always varied, but mostly it consists of them except Natasha never actually using the couch, choosing instead to sprawl on the floor. This time has Clint seated all the way to the front with his eyes glued to the screen, Tony in between Steve and Bruce at the base of the couch with his head leaning onto Bruce's shoulder and legs on Steve, and Natasha, lying on the couch with her fingers threading through Steve's hair.
Steve isn't quite sure why Natasha likes to pet his hair—but no one comments on it and it makes him feel relaxed.
"Are you sure he's hitting on me?" Steve asks, voice low because he doesn't want to disturb the movie experience for Clint, but truthfully PS I Love You wasn't his kind of movie. Not because it reminded him that he's left Peggy behind—no. Not really.
"He's got a reputation," Natasha answers him. From the tone of her voice, he can tell she's even more sick of the movie than he is. "One that rivals Stark even."
"Yeah, but he's never appeared with a guy before," Bruce puts in.
"I've never appeared with a guy before," Tony quips, face squashed into Bruce's shoulder. "But it doesn't mean that I'm not into dicks."
Steve abruptly stares at Tony. "You…you're—you like…men?"
Tony shifts to sit upright and meets Steve square in the eyes. "Men and women, actually. But um, yeah. I thought you knew," he answers, frowning. "I thought the entire world knew."
"But you only bring back dames…"
"Wow, you've been noticing," Tony grins at how Steve chokes. "It's just easier, you know? Women are more likely to throw themselves at your feet. Much easier than hitting on a most likely straight guy," he squints at Steve. "You're not hyperventilating because of some internalised homophobia are you? Because I know the forties—"
"I-I'm not!" Steve huffs. In reality he's just shocked he never noticed Tony's preference—and he's been living with the man for almost a year now. "I was in the army. There was…some of my best guys were like that too and there's nothing wrong with it."
Tony blinks. "Oh. Okay. There you have it. Flame boy is bisexual."
"But he said just wants to hang out—"
"Steve," Tony snorts. "Hanging out in the twenty first century is code word for I want in your pants let's have mindblowingly gay sex—"
"Um," Steve suddenly looks distinctively uncomfortable. "Then, all those times you said you wanted to hang out…"
Tony clicks his mouth shut and opens it again. "You missed my point."
"I always do when you're talking," Steve sighs, leaning his head further back.
Bruce chuckles. "I think it has more to do with the fact that Storm kissed your hand. That's a pretty obvious sign of interest."
"Or he could've been trying to make Stark jealous," Natasha shrugs. "Could be both."
"What—what, jealous?" Tony repeats indignantly. "What has that got to do with me?"
"Isn't everything?" Steve says, eyes closed but a smile on his lips.
"Don't get sassy with me, Rogers," Tony prods his side. "More importantly, I think the ultimate question is this. Are you bi? Because if you aren't, then Storm is just wasting his time, and if you are, it'd gonna be mega weird to fuck someone with the same face as you. It'd be…masturbating."
Steve shrugs. "I don't know. Never thought about it."
It's true. Steve has just always assumed there would be someone out there for him when he was still scrawny. He was just waiting for the right partner—he didn't care who it was. And then he met Peggy and he didn't see anyone else. There wasn't a need to wonder if he liked just girls or if that extended any further, because he had Peggy.
"Personal question, Steve," Natasha starts, and goes on when he nods. "Do you find Storm attractive?"
Steve thinks about it for a few slow minutes. "That's…that's unfair, don't you think? He looks like me."
"Point," Natasha concedes.
"Maybe if you went on a date with him, you'd know," Bruce offers.
"Or it could be that Steve doesn't feel a special something with his clone, but not necessarily that he doesn't like dudes," Tony points out.
"Why does it matter?" Steve asks.
The three others (Clint is tearing up at the screen, and everyone ignores him) pause for a moment and shrug.
It's his daily routine to wake at six and go for a morning run around the Stark tower. It takes him quite a bit of time to get sweaty, and more to get him to the satisfying burn of exhaustion. By the time he heads back, he's only thinking about a bath and some breakfast and juice. He is not prepared to see a mass of people surrounding the front entrance of the Stark tower when he returns. Usually he uses the secret backdoor entrance, but he has to pass by the front.
He weaves through the crowd mostly consisting of teenage girls and ends up getting recognised. He's forced to sign and few autographs before he makes excuses to move on, and by then his sweaty towel is stolen and he's been groped one too many times.
"—Ladies! Let the man through!"
And that's Johnny, arms around two other girls in the centre of it all.
"Hey, Cap, good morning! I see you've gotten spectacularly sweaty—your skin is glistening. Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? 'Cause you're glowing like an angel."
"Morning," Steve nods, choosing to ignore the angel comment and then frowns. "Did you cause this?" he gestures to the general crowd.
"Maybe," Johnny grins not too innocently. "I wanted to go in, but your boyfriend told his AI to lock me out. I was just hanging around. It's not my fault I get recognised for my gorgeous."
"Boyfriend?" Steve realises it's probably Tony the younger is talking about. It's a bit unnerving how he thinks Johnny is remarkably similar to his teammate, in all the flirty cocky ways. But he's dealt with Tony, so he's pretty sure he can deal with Johnny. "So, why are you here?"
"I told you I'll find you, didn't I? Well, here I am to collect the date you owe me."
Johnny looks happy if not completely serious, and Steve stifles an inward sigh. Yes he didn't think Johnny would let him go after that hand kissing incident, but he hadn't been prepared for how soon it was going to happen.
"Tell them to leave, and you can come in with me."
No time is wasted and the tower entrance is completely empty within a few seconds, and Steve is impressed. He types in the override code on the glass to open the door and greets the receptionist as they walk in. Johnny comments on basically everything—from the polished floors to the lighting as Steve brings him to the doors of the elevators.
"Listen," Steve begins. "If you're trying to ask me out—"
"If?" Johnny repeats, eyebrows furrowed. "I thought I was being more obvious than Stark himself—"
"—I'm not…interested," Steve finishes firmly, and carefully watches Johnny.
"Bummer," Johnny says after a while. "But I could make you interested."
Steve smiles wryly.
"Do you want to bet on that?" Johnny grins, and licks a filthy tongue across his bottom lip watching the disapproving look on the other. "Just kidding. I don't force uninterested parties. But if you ever change your mind, you can tell me."
"Okay," he says. "Sorry about wasting your time. I'll see you around."
"What, no!" Johnny crosses his arms. "You said I could go up the tower."
"Technically I said you could come in, but I said nothing about going up."
"Devious. I like it," Johnny smirks. "Man, how do you even exist? Anyway, I'm serious about our date. You're hungry now, right? I know a place."
Steve wants to protest, but the other isn't having any of it. "You said you'd hang out with me," Johnny is nearly pouting petulantly like a child. "You promised."
The soldier sighs inwardly after a few moments of silent puppy eye begging. "Okay. Okay. I need to take a shower first."
"…Can I watch?"
When Tony locked Johnny out of the tower, it was an accident. Honest to god, Tony was fumbling with the coffee machine because he couldn't remember if he had programmed it to make long sad beeping noises in which he had no idea why the said machine was making the said noises, but it goes on for at least ten minutes and Tony just wants his fucking coffee. Therefore it is totally excusable that when JARVIS pipes up to tell him that Johnny Storm is incessantly poking at the elevator at the lobby he snaps.
"Get him out I don't fucking care about anything now except to get this damn—" he huffs, trying to pry the bottom lid open with no screwdriver whilst the machine beeps louder. "—fucking coffee!"
And so JARVIS tells the receptionist to make Johnny leave the lobby and initiates a lock down on the front doors.
Tony is still alternating cursing and begging the coffee machine—mostly because he can't be bothered to go down to his workshop to grab a screw driver—when Steve steps in, followed by Johnny on his heels.
"Fuck," is Johnny's eloquent praise. "Oh fuck. I need to live here."
Steve side eyes him a bit—but Johnny is too enraptured with the building to notice anything else. The pyro controller wanders straight to the HD wide screen television hung at the back of the level with a look of awe of his face and Steve decides to focus on the more important issue.
"Tony," he says, lips half quirked in amusement.
"Come on baby, you love your daddy—"
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Beep. Beep. Beeeeep.
Steve sighs and grabs the machine out of Tony's hands when it becomes clear that the billionaire is very close to sobbing, and places it back on the counter. "Tony, you have to say please," he reminds the other, and pats the machine on the top.
Tony startles a little, just noticing that Steve is present, and then narrows his eyes. "I'd hate to break it to you Cap, but it's not gonna give me my damn coffee if I just said—oh hey," he brightens up when the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts in the air.
No more words are said as Tony downs the cup—that should be way too hot to swallow whole but he does anyway—and he perks up right after.
"Morning sunshine," he greets, letting his shoulders relax with the warm hum of coffee in his stomach. "I don't know what you just did, but you're a life saver. I think I should give you a medal. JARVIS—"
"Tony, no," Steve chuckles, and stops the sentence firmly, because if he doesn't he's pretty sure a glinting golden trophy is going to appear in his room an hour later. "You programmed it to respond to a word, remember? You said it took too much effort to press the button."
Did he? Tony shrugs. "Remind me again. Anyway, Bruce told me to tell you that he's not eating your super delicious happy meal because the big guy's taking his girl out."
It's sort of a thing that Steve cooks for the rest of the team breakfast on Saturdays mornings, and he shoots a look over to Johnny because he had forgotten about that.
"What are you doing here, Storm?" Tony frowns. "Don't touch that vase which costs more than your life—no seriously, break it and Pepper will castrate you."
Johnny whips around innocently, finger an inch away from prodding the antique. "I scored a front row seat in Cap's shower."
The low whistle that sounds does not come from Tony, but instead Clint who walks in with a damp towel over his shoulders, and Natasha who follows closely behind.
"What's your fanboy doing here, Cap?"
Before Steve can answer, Johnny grins smugly and sticks his hands in his pockets. "We've got a date to get to."
"Woah, really?" Clint blinks, and tries not to snigger, and then pouts. "Hey, so, are you still cooking for us?"
Natasha is already seated at the table with a glass of juice in her hand, watching Steve silently. Steve feels a pang of guilt because it's kind of his responsibility to feed them on Saturday mornings, and he barely gets Tony willingly seated and ready to consume food.
"You cook?" Johnny stares at Steve, and if possible, the grin glows. "No fucking way. How good are you? Let's put a rain check on our date because I gotta taste your food."
"Hey," Tony narrows his eyes. "You weren't invited in, and you've got some gall to eat my stuff. I'm telling your sister."
"Pssh," Johnny rolls his eyes. "It's not like you can't afford it. Besides, the only thing my sister will do is to kill me once she finds out that I didn't actually pack Cap's handmade food for her."
It seems like it's a given that Johnny is staying because he shoved himself in between Clint and Tony, and sits like an expectant puppy. Steve gives them all a once over and turns to the fridge, wherein he spots a bottle of ready made crepe batter. He takes out bacon, eggs and lettuce and starts to prepare the necessary. Over the table, Clint is side-eyeing Johnny pretty hard.
"Hey, quit staring at her."
"Hmm?" Johnny hums distractedly, eyes trailing Natasha's form with a leer. "It's a disservice not to."
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Clint says, and Natasha holds out her hand.
"Seems like we haven't really met," the redhead says with a twitch of her lips.
"Natasha Romanov," Johnny smirks, and grabs her hand. "I've read your file. The assassin whose deadly skill is only rivalled by her beauty. Pleasure."
"The pleasure is all mine," Natasha smirks, and then suddenly Johnny is clutching the table top with force.
"OWWW—holy fuck—fuck—" The fire boy struggles to yank his arm back but the assassin merely snorts and pulls him right across the table till he's wide eyed, breathing in shock a few centimetres from her face.
"Don't even think about it, junior," she murmurs, and lets him go abruptly.
Tony coughs barely enough to hide his snickers, and Clint sits back, smug. Steve whips around when Johnny started to curse but truthfully he had no idea what to do since if Natasha doesn't want to let go, she won't. He fusses over the crepe when it starts to smoke. Johnny cradles his hand gently and stares at Natasha suspiciously, but the interested glint in his eyes does not go away.
"Once," he starts. "There was this girl who thought I was self-obsessed—"
"—narcissistic, don't play well with others," Natasha continues for him, rolling her eyes. "You're not the only one in the world," she adds with a measured look towards Tony who shrugs.
"Yeah," Johnny nods, not very bothered. "She dated me in the end."
"I'm not quite sure what your point is," Clint cuts in, folding his arms. "If you're saying you can score Tasha, then well," he chokes, and proceeds to laugh. Hysterically.
"Thank you," Natasha smiles, patting Clint on the back as he starts to cough in between guffaws.
"Anyway," Clint smirks. "Aren't you aiming for Cap?"
"Can't I aim for both?"
"Your question is answered, Steve," Natasha states.
"What question?" Steve turns around in confusion, crepe done and ready on his spatula.
"Either the one where junior is hitting on you, or the one wherein he's bi," Tony quips helpfully.
"Yeah, um, he told me at the lobby," the supersoldier answers as he moves the crepes he's made into separate plates, and dishes them out on the table.
Clint and Tony are the first to snatch their plates and stuff their mouths. Natasha makes sure she levels an appreciative gaze at Steve who nods back before she takes her own plate. Johnny hugs his portion towards his body and prods at it, curiously. One second later he inhales a mouthful and the noises that spew out of his mouth are best left censored.
"I want to keep you," Johnny says before he bites another mouth. "Oh god. God."
Steve flushes but chooses to ignore the comment, and digs in on his own.
"I have dibs to keep him, back off," Tony huffs, chewing. "I'd hire him as my personal chef, except he prefers to do it for free, isn't that right?"
"I like cooking for you guys," Steve says with a shrug.
He really does, because even if Bruce is the only one to thank him out loud and Natasha is the only other one who gives a sort of smile in appreciation, he knows that all of them like his food and he likes being useful to them. Also, he gets to cook things that he wants to eat, instead of the unhealthy takeout or pizza.
"By the way," Johnny says once he's done. "I'm not bisexual."
Immediately all eyes swivel towards him.
"What?"
"Liar," Tony says immediately.
"Liar liar, plants for hire," Clint adds.
Natasha rolls her eyes at Clint, but does not comment.
"Guys, it doesn't matter," Steve tries to say, but unfortunately no one really listens.
"So why do you want to bang Cap, huh?" Tony squints, ignoring the indignant yelp from Steve.
"Who wouldn't?" Johnny shoots back, smirking. "Look at that face. And his shoulders. And that ass. Don't lie to me Stark, you'd totally go for that too," he turns to glance at Clint. "I'd bet even you would."
"I'm not gay," Clint says immediately. "But, I see your point," he concedes after a while.
"What point?" Steve splutters.
Johnny hums. "Haven't you ever looked in the mirror and said to yourself 'I'd fuck that'?"
Steve doesn't even begin to measure how awkward that would be. "Um, no?"
"So, then, who would you fuck?"
The blonde doesn't understand how it led to everyone staring at him in interest. He clears his throat.
"W-when I find someone I want to," he answers as neutrally as he can, and picks up the empty plates.
"Do you guys make him do the dishes too?" Johnny asks, watching Steve dump the plates into the sink.
"I don't mind," Steve says just as the others start to protest.
"Yeah, but you cooked. It's only fair if they do the wash up."
Natasha presses her lips together and sighs. "He's got a point."
"No, Steve only washes the dishes because he doesn't want to use the dishwasher," Tony points out.
"There're only five plates, guys," Steve shakes his head. "It's alright, really."
"But you're wasting time that could be our date," Johnny stresses. "You owe me coffee at least."
Clint looks between them both. "So, you two are going steady?"
"Totally."
"—what?" Steve frowns. "No," he shoots Johnny a look. "No, we're just hanging out."
"Really," Clint raises an eyebrow.
"He still owes me a date."
Tony rolls his eyes. "Ever heard of take a hint, Storm?"
"Might have," Johnny grins. "Is it supposed to mean anything?"
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Tony sighs. "But Capsicle isn't going to bend over for you no matter what you do."
Johnny faces Tony and blinks slowly, smirking. "Speaking from experience, Stark?"
Tony doesn't take the bait, only to amble over to the coffee machine and pours himself another cup. Once filled, he walks towards the elevator. "You tell me how it goes, Flame boy."
"Tony—" Steve frowns, turning to look at him. "Where are you going?"
"Lab," is the short answer before he disappears into the lift.
"Is he okay?" Steve asks more to himself.
Clint meets Natasha eyes silently before they both stand up. "Have fun on your date Cap," Clint pats his shoulder before he leaves. "We want to hear all about it."
"Table for two please," Johnny grins. "Sup, Chris."
Since Johnny was not going to leave the tower without him, Steve resigned himself to spending the day with the younger male. It wasn't that he didn't like the other guy per say, just that he found himself being dragged into things he never expected. Much like with Tony, but well.
Johnny had led them to a particular café a few streets away, apparently already pre-planned their "date".
"Hey Flame-o," a guy in uniform slapped hands with him, grinning. The smile turned even brighter upon laying eyes upon Steve. "Whose this?"
"My date," Johnny smirks, and then lowers his voice. "Captain fucking America."
"You're fucking kidding me," Chris murmurs, eyes wide. "Dude, you're shitting me."
"Steve Rogers," Steve cuts in. Truthfully he isn't sure if his identity was supposed to be kept a secret but ever since his cowl got ripped off during the alien invasion, his face was pretty much plastered all over the television.
"Christopher Winters. It's a dream to be shaking this hand, sir," Chris says, awed as they shake hands. "I have a table at the corner—quiet enough, no one will bother you, I promise."
"Thanks, bro," Johnny nods, heading towards the said place. "I'll have the usual—and get the same for Cap here."
The café is a small one, and it's filled with customers, but it's not crowded. There is a low murmur of chatter but other than that it's fairly quiet, with most reading or using laptops with their cup of coffee. The design is pretty minimalistic but cozy, and Steve finds that he might actually bring his sketchbook here one day. Their coffee is set on their table within a few minutes, perfect froth and delicious aroma wafting.
"Best coffee in the world, trust me," Johnny says as he takes a sip of his own. "This is a special blend from Chris—I like it with caramel and cinnamon, and he adds some secret ingredients of his own. The result is fucking perfect coffee."
Steve isn't a coffee fan but he has to admit the cup is pretty good on the first sip, and he takes another. "It's good," he says because Johnny is watching him like a hawk.
"Awesome, you mean. So, can I count this first date as a success?"
The blonde sets his cup down and tries to be firm. "Johnny…I would appreciate it if you didn't—didn't—I mean, we're not…actually…dating. I'm okay with hanging out if that's what you want, but…" he sighs. "All I'm saying is, I can't give you what you want if you want…more."
Johnny is oddly not very bothered. "Yeah, I know. It's just something I do, you know? Relax. Reed would kill me anyway."
"Reed?"
"Yeah, the guy who married my sister? The bendy one?" Johnny chuckles at his own words. "He made me a deal to keep low—which includes no scandals, no damaging of public property, no hiring of strippers, the whole shit. It's not exactly fun to party when I can't let go, you know?"
"What do you get in return?"
"A place of my own," Johnny says, but his eyes gaze outside the tinted glass. "I live with them for now, but I think it's time I moved out. I'm happy for them and all but it's disgusting—hi honey, how was your day sweetheart, give me a kiss blah blah blah. You should've seen them after their wedding—I nearly puked rainbows for a month," he wrinkled his nose. "It's my sister—it's just, strange. Weird."
Steve just nods along.
"And now they're planning to have kids. Figured it's better if I don't accidentally walk in and burn my retinas."
"Does the other guy—Grimm, was it—live with you guys?"
"He used to. But now he lives with his girl, so," Johnny shrugs. "I've got nothing to do so I get out a lot. The last time I set a club on fire and I got grounded for three months."
The supersoldier listens as the other talks, and his tone is oddly serious and personal. "What happened?"
"Drank too much," Johnny answers, smiling wanly. "Almost burned a couple of girls," he breathes in deeply and forces a wider smile. "I'm still not off the hook for that. Had to sneak out a couple of times , but then things got ugly when the tabloids outed me to my sis. At least with you, even if I get caught by the tabloids I'm with fucking Captain America. That itself is enough to earn me a badge of honour, don't you think?"
Steve smiles wryly. "I'm not too sure about that."
"I'll prove it to you," Johnny smirks. "So, enough about me. What do you like to do in your free time?"
It turns out that Johnny is a pretty good conversationalist. The guy is genuinely curious about everything—from Steve's likes and dislikes to his preference in tissue brands—and what really sets him off is the fact that Steve rides a motorbike.
"Dude, I have to see your ride. I have to. It's a Harley Davidson isn't it? Which model?"
"It's back in the tower," Steve says. "Tony did a couple of modifications to it, so I'm not exactly sure..."
"Even better," Johnny smirks. "Wait, how much did Stark modify it?"
The supersoldier hums in thought. "I don't know," he concludes finally. "When he gave it to me, he just mentioned he tweaked with it, and it works great, so I didn't ask further."
"Stark made you a motorbike?" the other demands, suddenly upright. "He built you a fucking motorbike?"
"Yeah… I guess so?"
"I have to see it," Johnny states firmly.
Johnny's enthusiasm, if possible, flares brighter when Steve brings him down to the basement of the tower. The younger male is practically draped over the bike, eyes hungry and trailing over the metallic sleek form.
"This is beautiful," Johnny whispers in awe. "Stark is a mad, mad genius. Custom fitted handles, leather etched seats, and the engine—oh god—if I had that kind of power on my bike I'd be rocketing through the dome."
Steve barely hides his smile. "I like it fast."
"Do you?" Johnny murmurs, smirking. "Next Friday. Come see me ride. I'll get you a ticket for free if you bet on me."
"I don't gamble."
"Of course you don't," Johnny grins. "But I'll get you a ticket anyway. Maybe after the show I can teach you a couple of stunt tricks. You'd love it, trust me. So, Friday?"
Steve would love to go—really, he would, but Fridays were Movie Nights.
"I've got something on on Fridays. Sorry. Another day?"
"It's every alternate Fridays. Well, I'm sure you can miss whatever it is just once."
"It's just…important."
"Okay," Johnny says. "But I'll text you the details anyway, if you change your mind. By the way, what's your number?"
"Hey Steve, your picture with Storm has a three hundred and seventeen likes and four hundred and forty retweets."
"What?"
"Here," Clint shoves his phone under Steve's nose. "I followed Storm on Twitter after Saturday and he documented your date well enough so I didn't have to ask you what happened."
Steve raises an eyebrow and scrolls down on the webpage, spotting a picture that Johnny had so randomly tugged him and snapped in the café before he could say anything.
"I see that you let him touch the bike that I made for you," Tony speaks from the other side of the conference room where they have all been gathered. He's looking at his own phone.
"He knows how to handle one," Steve says. "Did you know that he competes?"
"Storm's pretty much the face of extreme motor biking for the past year," Natasha informs him. "Have you seen a show, Cap?"
"No, I haven't. He invited me, though."
"Am I missing something?" Bruce says from his chair. "Because I feel like I'm missing something."
Tony kicks his feet up on the table. "While you had glorious sex with your girl, Hotman managed to snag Capsicle over there for a date on Saturday. Details are PG though."
Bruce ignores Tony. "How was it?"
"Fine," Steve answers. "We had coffee, and we talked, and then I showed him my bike."
"So—"
Who's strong and brave, here to save the American way—
"Tony!" Steve hisses as he pulls out his own phone and switches the tune off before it continues.
"What?" Tony blinks innocently.
"I know you're the one who changed my message tone—only because you've done it twenty seven times so far!"
"But it's such a waste! That song is in sparkling form!"
Steve would've argued more, but Clint has taken his phone and is squinting at the screen. "Huh. It's from Storm. Ooh sexting."
"What?"
"Modern lingo, not worth knowing," Bruce answers for him.
"What does he want?" Tony asks, sounding particularly sulky. "How did he even get your number anyway? You never gave me your number."
"That's because you stole it off S.H.E.I.L.D records. You never asked for it."
"Oh yeah."
"Storm says: I've got a ticket for Friday. See you at 8," Clint reads, swivelling in the chair. "How do you want to reply to this?"
"Tell him: Sorry, I can't. I'll pay for the ticket though."
"You've got something on Friday?" Tony asks curiously.
"Well…not really except the usual…"
"What's the usual?"
At this point, Natasha raises her eyebrow. "You're ridiculous, Steve."
Steve colours a little, but huffs. "But I like Movie Night."
Tony frowns. "Movie night?"
"Did we ever officially dub it as Movie Night?" Bruce asks.
"We do that every week, so yes, it's official," Clint decides for all of them. "Cap, are you sure you want to decline this? Just skip Movie Night once, it's no big deal. How often do you get to see a bike competition anyway?"
"Why are you encouraging him to go?" Tony demands. "Movie Night is awesome."
"Yeah, but those bike stunts are pretty fucking amazing too. I've seen a show and I liked it," Clint shrugs. "Tasha liked it too."
"It was alright," Natasha says non-committedly.
"Don't lie, you were almost going to steal that bike off the green rider and go for it yourself."
"I would've won."
"I know you would've."
"Bruce, what do you think?" Steve asks the only one left who hasn't made an opinion.
Bruce looks at Tony for a second, but addresses him after. "I think you should go for the show. It's something you haven't seen before. You might enjoy it."
Steve nods, and turns to Tony. "Tony?"
Tony blinks, startled. "Why are you asking me?"
"Well, I don't…I mean, if you want to watch a movie then I'll stay and—"
"Don't be ridiculous, Steve," Tony scoffs. "If you want to watch Johnny boy that's fine with me. We won't miss you."
"Nope we won't," Clint adds. "Anyway I replied that message saying that you'd go."
"Clint, I would appreciate having my phone back."
Clint tosses the said gadget back just as Coulson walks into the room. "We have a mission—"
"No duh."
"I will taze you if you don't get your feet off the table, Stark." Coulson eyes the limbs as they swiftly disappear. "Before that, Captain, I think you may want to take a look at this."
Coulson slides a printout of an article over the table and everyone crowds around to peer at it.
CAPTAIN AMERICA HOT FOR THE HUMAN TORCH?
"Um," Steve says uncomfortably the moment his eyes lay on the headlines.
"S.H.I.E.L.D doesn't care what you do in your private life, Captain, but we'd advise you to keep it low."
"I apologise. That's—that's not my intent," Steve sighs, lowering his forehead to the table. "I'm not—"
"We know," Clint pats his shoulder. "Don't take it too hard, Cap. Phil's just jealous."
Coulson's eyes narrow. "Barton—"
"Phil," Clint grins.
"Agent—"
Who's strong and brave, here to save the American—
"Tony!" Steve hisses, jabbing at the screen of his phone. "How did you—I just—I turned it off!"
Tony rolls his eyes. "Hello, sugarcakes, I made your phone. Besides, Johnny boy is texting you an awful lot isn't he?"
Steve would've defended himself, except that the incoming message was from Johnny.
Does ur patriotism rly burn for me? Cap, u shld read dis article, it's amazing.
—Johnny (1 attachment)
I'm looking at it now. Steve writes back after a moment of thought. I heard about your twitter.
Sweet. Didja like it? I gained abt 200 followers tt day and counting. I made u an acc. Usrname: spangledass Pass: h0t4torch
—Johnny
"Captain," Coulson clears his throat, and Steve abruptly realises that everyone was staring at him.
"Sorry," Steve coughs, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "Do begin, Agent."
A/N: Most probably cross-posted over at AO3, under aozu.
ALSO FOR ALL OF YOU OUT THERE WHO ARE WAITING FOR CANTARELLA TO BE UPDATED I APOLOGISE BECAUSE THIS DAMNED FIC HAS RUINED ME FOR MONTHS AND ITS NOT EVEN DONE YET I AM SO SORRY