Notes: Yeah, I'm sure plenty of people have done this before. And some parts might be a little silly, but this is a just for fun ficlet, so enjoy! Also, at the part where Thor compares his life to Hercules, I borrowed that from some other fic (I'm so sorry I can't remember who wrote that right now, but if someone tells me, I'll put credit up), because really, that's just gold and too good to not use. And Thor totally would.
So, Avengers is my life right now. It's all I can write/draw/obsess over. Despite how much I desperately need to finish Stolen Souls. If anyone's still reading that, I'm sorry I'm so slow with the updates. But I hope y'all enjoy this instead!
The usual still stands on any spelling/grammar errors. I don't know if I caught them all, but if any are glaring, please let me know. Also, this is written in present tense (which is not my norm) so please forgive any possible slips into the incorrect tense that I didn't catch.
The idea to have a weekly movie night starts off just between Tony and Steve. When the team had first formed, Fury had placed Tony in charge of Steve and Thor's technological education. The two catch onto things rather swiftly. Steve is quick to pick things up, even when he's wary of them, and Thor is some crazy level beyond enthusiastic. But things like computers and cellphones and Facebook and Twitter aren't the only bits and pieces of the modern world that the two are ignorant about. Steve's missed out on the past sixty-six years, and with how much the world has changed he might as well be in Thor's other dimensional shoes.
A big part of pop culture is movies, and so Tony—admittedly always more willing to help Steve than Thor, but he can't feel too bad about that because Thor has Jane and her team—decides to make thing of it. One night a week, they take over the projection room and watch movies. Tony kicks it off with Disney. If there's ever a movie franchise in this world that serves as staple of American childhood, it's Disney. The company had already released a few films by the time Steve was frozen, so they skip ahead and start off with Cinderella.
For a few weeks, it's just Steve and Tony enjoying the films, but one night when they're watching Sleeping Beauty, Clint happens to walk by just in time to see Prince Phillip awaken Aurora with his kiss. He crows and makes a joke about Steve's enchanted ice sleep and is that how Prince Tony had woken him up. Steve blushes and scowls, and Tony thinks he can't possibly get in trouble for lobbing his scotch at Clint's head. He does, after all, own this tower.
After that, they occasionally get other people popping in to watch. By the time they hit the Disney Renaissance, the projection room is so crowded that Tony's considering buying more couches. Thor and Steve both love The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast, proclaiming what everyone already knows, that the movies are just getting better and better with each passing year.
Things go a little bit downhill when they get to The Lion King. Steve is sitting by Tony and looking very nervous as the wildebeest stampede starts, and when Scar lets Mufasa fall, he gasps, his hands flying to his mouth. And when Simba tries to wake Mufsa but can't and calls for help but no one comes and finally cries and curls up next to his father's body, Steve is sobbing, his face buried in the crook of Tony's neck, getting all kinds of tears and snot on his shirt.
Now, Tony has had a crush on Captain America for pretty much his entire life, and finally meeting Steve in the flesh hasn't exactly lessened the butterflies—if anything they've swarmed like a plague, and Tony may or may not be guilty of doodling his and Steve's names surrounded by hearts when sitting in those awful board meetings Pepper makes him attend—but that doesn't mean Steve can blow his nose on him and Tony's going to swoon.
"Come on, Steve," he says, patting Steve's broad back a bit awkwardly. He's not too good at comforting. "You saw Bambi, right? People are way more scarred by Bambi than this."
And suddenly, Tony notices several heads swerving towards him. "Are you kidding, Boss," Happy cries, gesturing madly at the screen.
Darcy has taken off her glasses and is trying to wipe away smudged mascara. "I will—I will have you know, Mr. Stark," she declares, "that venison is delicious, and at least Bambi's mom went on to feed some hunter's family. What good did Mufasa's death do, huh? You tell me that. Nobody's going to eat a lion!"
Natasha's eyes are misty, and she snaps at Tony, her words directed to Steve, as she shoos Tony's hand away to offer comfort herself, "Don't you listen to him, Cap. Him and his awful mechanical heart. You cry all that you need to. This is—this is the saddest movie ever, and you should not be ashamed to feel."
Clint is looking at her like she's gone insane, but Happy claps and says, "You tell him, sister."
They have to put to the movie on pause until Steve can collect himself, and the Hakuna Matata bit cheers him up well enough. He gets a little misty eyed at the end scene, and Tony thinks that's the worst of it until Thor suddenly speaks. "There were many entertaining scenes, my friends," he says, and his voice is very heavy. "But I must admit that I do not care for this film." And he stands up and walks away.
"Shit," Darcy mutters, and Jane takes off after him.
Hercules manages to cheer Thor up from the depressing thoughts of his little brother the next week. He loudly proclaims that it is a story about his life. "How," Clint asks. "How is this about your life? You're the Scandinavian god of thunder. Hercules was a Greek hero. Gods and heroes are two different things."
"Actually, Hercules was his Roman name," Bruce offers. "Heracles is his Greek name, as he is the bane of Hera, queen of the gods."
"Yeah, anyway," Clint plows over him. "Dude's just really strong. Yeah, you've got that, but you're also swinging around lightning. He was some weirdo, clumsy nerd, and he's kind of the boy next door. No offense, buddy, but you aren't anything like him."
Thor goes on in to an elaborate speech about the parallels between his life and Hercules's, citing instances of character growth and learning about the true merits of a hero. Tony's not really listening. He's too busy watching Steve bounce along with the music from the corner of his eye.
They fall immediately from Hercules to Mulan. Tony thinks about it for a few minutes, and he's confident that this will be a normal viewing. The closest thing they've got to a parallel with this movie is Sif. But Sif's brand of feminism and woman warrioring is more an out-and-proud-fuck-you-I-am-woman-I-do-what-I-want sort of affair. As far as Tony's aware, Sif never had to cross dress to get into battle. Odin had to cross dress to learn magic, but that's a different story (one Thor assures them is quite hilarious when his mother tells it).
And it does go normal until the build up to the montage song where the soldiers do the learn-to-be-better-and-become-friends-and-respect-each-other thing. When the characters are trying to climb up the pole with the weights, Jane and Darcy, who are sitting on the loveseat, suddenly start bouncing almost violently. Thor tries to ask them what's wrong, but they shush him harshly. He slumps in his seat and looks like a puppy that just got kicked. The song starts up, and the two girls squeal. "Let's get down to business to defeat—"
There's a slight pause in the song, just long enough for them to yell, "WHO?" before the song answers, "the Huns!" They squeal again and continue to sing the song at the top of their lungs, complete with over the top hand motions and facial expressions. The Asgardians are laughing uproariously, and Clint and Happy have joined in and are singing along. Tony rolls his eyes and smiles begrudgingly when Steve elbows him in the ribs and beams.
The next staple of childhood is the original Star War trilogy. Tony firmly declares before he even starts Episode IV that they will never be showing the prequel trilogy. Because someone in this God forsaken world needs to keep their innocence, and damned if Steve will be ruined on Tony's watch. It's kind of interesting watching it with someone who has never seen it. Tony keeps looking over at Steve to gauge his reactions, and is pleased to note that Steve looks as awed as he should in wake of this particular brand of cinematic genius—because Tony totally isn't showing him any of the re-mastered versions, this is straight original theatric release.
The best of that day comes at the end of Empire, when Darth Vader reveals that he's really Luke Skywalker's father. Thor gasps, and Steve shouts in disbelief, "NO!" Clint snorts and buries his face in his hands, and Natasha is slapping him repeatedly on the shoulder, her knuckles pressed against her mouth. Steve whips around to look at Tony with wide eyes. Tony just nods solemnly.
But Tony thinks that perhaps the best movie marathon of all is the month long October-Scare-fest. They stay up late watching scary movies, and it's amusing how, despite the things they've seen in real life, the team and their guest all reacts.
Natasha is addicted to scary movies, to the rush of fear. Every time something makes her jump, she immediately grins after, and she and Clint exchange high-fives as the credits roll. Bruce keeps his head ducked, and he's half watching the movie through his lashes and half staring at the popcorn bowl in his lap.
Thor has crossed his legs Indian style on the La-Z-Boy and is leaning forward with wide eyes, chewing on his nails. Jane and Darcy are on the floor before him. Neither seems to be that affected by the gore happening on the screen. Darcy is filing her nails and has one of her iPod earbuds in, and Jane is scribbling in a notebook, occasionally reaching up to pat Thor's knee reassuringly. The Asgardians are shouting at the screen, Sif demanding to know why the teenagers keep falling down and what brand of magic is the monster using that he is able to walk so slowly yet catch up to his fleeing victims. The Warriors Three keep muttering about people wandering off alone and how every time someone has sex or does drugs or drinks then their time is up.
Pepper is watching fairly calmly, but Tony notices that she gets up to go check her phone during all the really good parts. Happy is scared and not at all ashamed. He's watching the movie in between his fingers. There are some scenes where Rhodey suddenly desperately wants popcorn but not from the bowl that Bruce has, and Fury and Coulson seem rather interested in finding change in between the couch cushions. Maria Hill is untouchable through it all. As for himself, Tony's seen these movies enough that he's not really jumpy about them, although there are a couple of scenes that makes his heart pick up a little bit.
But the best thing about all of this is Steve. Steve is terrified, despite all of the horrible things he saw during the war. Steve gasps and screams in all the right places, reaching out to grab at Tony's arm or hand. And there are some particularly good parts where Steve all but climbs into Tony's lap. Steve's a good several pounds of hard muscle heavier than Tony, but it's still so incredibly worth it. Tony probably ought to feel a little bit of shame that he keeps suggesting scarier and scarier movies, paying no attention to the late hour. But with Steve pressed up against him, he just doesn't.
He does start to care when everyone heads off to bed and Steve follows Tony into his room, begging with big doe eyes to let him crash in there because the movies made him jumpy. It's really damned hard to sleep so freaking close to Steve and keep his hands to himself, especially when Steve keeps shifting closer to him.
So, musicals next week. Nice, safe musicals. Thor still needs to see The Wizard of Oz. Nothing too scary about that, right?
Correction: Steve is beyond terrified of the flying monkeys and Clint is not helping the situation by humming the Wicked Witch's theme song every time he passes Steve in the hallways.