Tony looks at Darcy over the rim of his glass. They're both drunk right then, and, well, Tony's become somewhat of a competitive drunk. Sue him. He'll win, so it's not any skin off his back. Is that how the saying goes? Doesn't matter, Tony reminds himself. He's in it to win it, and he will not lose to Lewis.
"It's un-American to not stare at Steve's ass as he walks by!" He starts, loudly and not at all subtly.
"It's un-American to not orgasm on the spot the first time you see Steve," Darcy counters.
"It's un-American to not give-" Tony starts, but Bruce puts a hand over his mouth and glares at him.
Bruce isn't drunk - which is a damn shame, because there's nothing more that Tony wants to see than a drunk Hulk, except maybe a high Hulk - and is being decisively virginal and blush-y tonight. He's sat next to Tony, who's across from Darcy.
Tony rolls his eyes dramatically, which sends Darcy into a fit of shits-and-giggles. "Bruce, I was going to say anything he could ever want, but since you brought it to that level..."
Darcy grins wickedly, and elbows Clint, who is unfortunate enough to have sat next to her, in the ribs, him being a trained killer be damned. "It's un-American to not go down on him when his eyes darken and blow up and shit."
"Can they do that now?" Natasha asks lightly. She's at the far end of the table, as far away from the duo that consists of drunk Darcy and drunk Tony as the table would allow.
"Well, yeah," Tony drawls like it's the single most obvious thing under the sun. "The serum fucked him up and everything turns him on, especially me and you and Darce and Thor, Christ, I've never seen a man so turned on before in my life. His eyes can not be legal."
"Hey!" Darcy shrieks, causing Clint to recoil from her. He was seriously re considering some life choices right about then. "There's a joke! Steve's eyes are criminal, and I would totally be persecutor!"
"Prosecuter?" Bruce asked, or rather corrected in the nicest possible way a man with simmering, boiling rage right under the surface could.
"Prostitutes!" Tony laughs, slamming a hand on the table.
Sam and Rhodey, sat by Natasha rather than the quartet at the other end, glance at each other exhaustedly.
Darcy takes another pull if her beer and says, "it's un-American to not salute him every time you see."
"Who're we talkin' about again?"
"Steve," Clint informs Tony, tightly. He's pissed with the other man, because not only does Tony know he can't get drunk because he has a meeting early the next morning, he's flaunting off how drunk he is. Just to spite him. "Maybe if you weren't plastered, you'd remember that."
"It's un-American to not drink in celebration of Steve's whole life, Clint."
"It's un-American to rub Steve's hotness in other people's faces," Clint shoots back, "Tony."
"Oh, quit yer yappin'. It's un-American to get jealous of Steve, because he'll feel guilty, and then somebody has to go down on him!" Tony almost shouts. "Are you gonna go down on him, Clint? Huh? Didn't think so!"
"Boys," Natasha says as Sam and Rhodey sigh, "children."
"Why does someone have to go down on him if he's guilty?" Bruce asked. He wasn't exactly comfortable with the conversation, but sitting at a table with friends all around wasn't something that had happened a lot in his life lately, so he went with it.
Tony rolled his eyes again. "Because it's un-American to make him guilty and then not do something to ease his mind. Duh, Bruce."
Darcy giggles and hiccups a single time, drawing everyone's attention.
"You do one, Natas'a!" She says with a finger pointed at the other woman.
Natasha raises a single eyebrow at the mispronunciation of her name but goes along anyway. "It's un-American to not crave Nate's hotdogs every time you smell Steve."
There's silence for a moment, because, really, why the hell did she say that? You can say whatever you want in this game, but still... That's really weird.
"What the fuck was that, Tash?" Clint asks incredulously. "You know what he smells like?"
Natasha offers a shrug, a "I'm a spy" look, and nothing else.
"O-kay," Tony draws out. "I'll go! It's un-American to not sing the national anthem as soon as Steve enters the room!"
Bruce sighs. "It's un-American to make assumptions based on history - and I say that because he didn't do that to the man who read about his whole life and tried to copy what was done to him."
"Hmmm, I only caught tried in that whole thing - somebody repeat it?" Tony asked.
"Don't be an asshole, Tony," came from Natasha, Rhodey, Clint and Sam.
"He said the whole 'book cover' thing, ya know, the judging one." Darcy supplies, anyway.
"I should go on Judge Judy and get a baby daddy test."
Sam's head connects with the table. "Tony, you go to Judy if you've been sued, and Maury if you want a baby daddy test - and you've been in a relationship for about two years now, and, from what I've heard and will haunt me forever, you had a vasectomy years upon years ago."
Tony cocks his head to the side. "Rhodey? I don't remember a vasectomy."
"Well, you had one, thank Christ."
"What's that s'possed to mean?" Tony yells. Kind of yells, actually. It's more of a drunken shout and it's ruined by the hazy look in his eyes.
"It means," Rhodey shoots back, "that I'm happy we can shoot down all 'Tony Stark is the father of my baby' stories with a single, straight-laced sentence."
Tony curls around and over his drink with a scowl. "You're just jealous you couldn't say that I fathered your baby," he mutters.
Darcy laughs loudly. "God, I was always like 'I'm totes gonna do that to somebody when I grow up!', for years, man. Years. I never thought it through though, 'cause I thinked that I wouldn't've have'n to get pregnant. I can't have kids, man," she shivers.
"Can we get back on topic?" Tony asks sullenly. "Because," he's suddenly happy, "Cl-iiii-nt, it's your turn!"
Clint looks vaugely disgusted at the tone Tony'd used to sing his name. "It's un-American to be as hetero as could be and be attracted to Steve and not give a single fuck."
"Oh, it's not that bad!" Darcy and Tony shriek with each other. "Seriously," Tony continues, "I wish I could do things to him that aren't legal in most states."
"Right?!" Darcy agrees.
"Is it un-American to want to leave this conversation?" Sam asks miserably.
"Yes!" Tony and Darcy screech. They can be very, very, very loud when they want.
"Whose turn is it?" Clint asks.
"Mine," Rhodey says, with an undertone of deep regret. "It's un-American to not bow down and kiss the floor the walks on, right after he's walked on it."
"Has anyone ever done that?" Bruce questions.
"Uh," Tony starts, "I think? Some people in the 40's? Actually, fuck if I know. J?"
"Some people in the 1940's took it upon themselves to kiss where Captain Rogers' feet had stepped, yes." JARVIS informed the room.
"Huh," Tony said.
"People were stupid back then, holy shit." Darcy laughs. "Rhodey, I love you, but-"
"It was ridiculous, I know." Rhodey mutters.
"So! Nat's turn?" Tony said with a clap of his hands.
"It's un-American to not be sexually attracted to him, even if you aren't into men or he's not your type."
"Right?!" The rest of them agreed.
"Whose turn is it?" Rhodey asks. There's not really a set list or anything, it goes more by who hasn't gone in a while, but still.
"It's un-American to talk about Steve like he's not standing in the doorway," a new voice says.
Tony cringes. "Hey, Spangles. You jionin' the par-tay?"
"Breaking it up, actually. Some of you ahev work in the morning, some of you need sleep, and some of you have had enough to drink." Steve says.
"It's un-American to not do this," Darcy says, and with that, her hands are in Steve's hair.
Steve rolled his eyes, and gently pulled Darcy's hands off of his head. "Rhodey, Sam, you want to help?"
"Why do you always manage to rope me into things, huh, Steve?" Sam sighs.
Steve just laughs.