This is my first fic posted. So go easy on me!

Just a short one-shot of why I believe Tony was so adamant about getting some shawarma after the battle.

It really isn't Tony's fault he feels this way. It was just something he ate that is causing his stomach to do back flips. Definitely has nothing to do with a certain Captain...

Warning: Slight slash and Stony

I own nothing.

Blame The Shawarma

The shawarma wasn't sitting well.

He felt dizzy, it was difficult to breathe, and his stomach was performing some pretty impressive back flips. Tony decided it had to be the shawarma.

It probably wasn't his best plan to the usher the team to the run down, barely standing, most likely not up to heath code standards restaurant immediately following the battle, but he really didn't have much of a choice. It was his suggestion, after all.

Except the only reason he made the suggestion was to change the subject from what he'd said right before. Because as soon as he said he hoped nobody kissed him, he thought, unless Steve did because that wouldn't be so bad. And didn't that throw him for a loop.

He had never thought of Steve that way. Not once. Why would he? He's playboy Tony Stark! Kissing and Steve were two words that just did not go together. They should not be used in the same sentence, unless that sentence was 'I'm kissing Pepper, fuck off Steve!' Tony Stark is a man who kisses women, many women, many times, in many places. He is a man who loves a woman, a beautiful woman. Pepper has always been there for him no matter what. She takes care of him, grounds him. She loves him and he loves her.

Then why is he standing in the washroom, staring in the mirror, trying to convince himself that he does love Pepper that way.

"I do, I love her, I have loved her for years. She is my rock, she is my constant," he tells his image with determination.

But that doesn't mean she completes your soul, it just means she is a great friend who is also quite good at her job, his mind unhelpfully supplies.

"Oh, fuck off."

And great, not he is standing here arguing with himself in the mirror of a run down restaurant that, quite frankly, is falling apart at the seams and will most likely crumble to pieces if someone so much as sneezes. Wonderful.

And then he can't help but think of the rest of the team sitting at the table. Probably still silent. They're kind of awkward like that.

And then he thinks of Steve, with his elbow on the table and his head resting on his hand. Who, every few minutes, would take a bite of his food, but mostly just sat there looking exhausted. Did he himself look just as tired to the others? Did the others look just as tired to him? He can't really recall focusing much on anyone other than Steve…

But of course he was watching Steve! Steve is the reason they come here in the first place! And Tony's confused, and tired, has a headache, is in quite a bit of pain because really, he totally almost died earlier, and he has no idea what to say or do or what any of this means or if it means anything at all.

Except is does mean something.

Because he really does wish a certain somebody had kissed him.

And now even more than before do Tony's head, and stomach, and body feel like a big, jumbled mess.

Ok, so maybe it isn't the shawarma.

Who wants to be my first review?