A/N Yeah... I still haven't finished my last Christmas story... From last Christmas... So, to distract myself from my failures in the fields of perseverance and finishing what I start, here's a one shot in a different category... Though I doubt anyone reading this story has any clue what I'm talking about, lol, different categories and all. Anyways, enjoy this little thing, I was inspired by the gifts my grandmother made for the men in our family, lolololol! Ah, Grandma, you go, girl!
Alright, disclaimer. Obviously, I don't own Marvel, or the Avengers, or anything like that. I just like to borrow the characters.
And on warnings, I really can't think if anything that would upset anyone, except maybe a shameless penis joke, but come on, are you really that big of a bluenose?
So yeah, please enjoy my late Christmas story, lol. Don't forget to R&R, reviews make me super happy, and more likely to write less like a monkey with a computer!
Really, we're doing penile jokes, Tony thought wryly. If I had known we were going to do gag gifts I could have put less thought in to the gifts I got for everyone. Though, if he thought about it, the gifts from Pepper and Natasha would make his look even nicer in comparison- not that they needed much help in that respect. After all, a Stark always gave the perfect gift.
With all the stealth of a ninja, Tony quietly exited the dark room which housed the present for the evening. Chuckling, Tony left the hall, returning to the next floor down, where the Avengers' Christmas party was in full swing. Hiding in a corner and quietly conversing with a small mousy SHEILD scientist was Bruce, looking quite adorable in the cute little green sweater Tony had forced him into. The purple Santa hat helped too. Towards the lush and heavily laden Christmas tree in the middle was the golden boy, Captain America, and his ever present fanboy- whose first name, Tony thought stubbornly, was still Agent. Thor, the other golden boy, was petting an angry Loki's hair with that happy little clueless smile of his while the God of Mischief squirmed angrily in his adopted-brother's grip, swearing like a Shakespearean sailor.
Pepper was closer to Tony, attempting to placate a unhappy Happy with pastel colored cookies. Hmph, make a man head of your security and he goes mad with power develops a strange obsession with badges, Tony thought to himself. Even Nick Fury was there, brooding in the corner with his cup of eggnog. Should he be drinking? The man's depth perception is already shot to hell. He didn't bother looking for Clint or Natasha. They were probably hiding somewhere and being their own assassin-y selves.
Everyone was where they were supposed to be- except for Tony himself. Clearing his throat, the billionaire threw himself in to the thick of the party.
Hours later when all the people at the party had been given their party favors (Starkpads, he couldn't let trusted coworkers helplessly wander around with apple products) and been pumped full of eggnog and good cheer, most everyone was sent home, in a cab if they didn't pass a breathalyzer test. ("Yes Clint, I have my own breathalyzer, it's perfectly normal!") Soon, it was just the team, their handler and Director Fury. Time for the more personal gifts. Steve called for everyone to gather around the Christmas tree, to which everyone eagerly complied. Even Clint and Natasha came out of hiding, striding and slinking respectively. Everyone settled quickly on the floor, criss-cross-applesauce, just like in grade school, excepting, of course, their serious director, who chose to stand. Steve sat in the middle of the group, smiling at the bots Dum-E, Butterfingers, and You as they towed in the pallet that held the gifts. He reached over and snatched the small box of gifts labeled 'Bruce,' pulling little packages out and passing them around according to name.
Tony almost kissed his science bro- he totally deserved it for the little Baggies labeled 'Shawarma Spices and Directions.' Bruce blushed slightly as everyone said their thanks. Tony's gifts were passed around, a new bow for Clint, throwing knives for Natasha, a dress for Pepper, a Taiwanese recipe book for Bruce, a marriage counseling book for Loki and and Thor (Loki seethed until his face grew red at that,) a glass eye for Fury, which he did not appreciate, a Starkphone for Coulsen so he would stop using whatever crappy SHEILD issued phone he already had, and a fondue pot for Steve.
"Maybe we could make some fondue with that, eh Cap?" Tony asked teasingly, nudging the blushing soldier.
This became the routine, until Steve had passed out all the gifts but the bags from Pepper and Natasha. Tony forced himself to hold his tongue, waiting patiently as the girls explained the men must open their gifts together, at the same time. It was clear everyone was curious, but they listened, waiting until Steve grabbed his own back to begin opening their gifts.
To say they were surprised was an understatement.
"'As the year gets older,
And the days grow colder,
Nothing could be neater,
Than this little Peter heater,'" a mortified Steve read aloud.
Inside each bag, as the men discovered, were little crocheted 'Peter heaters,' little socks shaped like male anatomy. They ranged in size, from Director Fury's Godzilla of a willie warmer to Tony's cruelly minuscule version. The girls must think taking blows to one's manly ego is a perfect Yule tide pastime. They also came in a multitude of colors. Steve's was red, white, and blue. (Too fitting, Tony thought.) Clint's was purple and black. ("Why does everyone think I like purple, I hate that color!") Thor's was gold and red while Loki's was black and green. ("No, you oaf, they're prank gifts, you're not actually supposed to wear one!") Bruce's was purple and green. ("I hope that thing stretches, it doesn't seem to be the Other Guy's size," Tony deadpanned.) Tony's was red with a blue circle in the middle of the shaft. (To look like the arc reactor, he realized.) Coulson's 'nacker wrapper was black and white, and looked like it was wearing a suit. (The look on his face made it clear that he didn't know whether to smile his small alright-this-is-kind-of-funny grin or shoot Pepper and Natasha.) The director's Christmas gift from the girls was solid black. (His eye twitched threateningly before he turned with a snort, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like, "Y'all motherfuckers.")
Each cock sock was stuffed full of candy, with candy canes in the shafts and Hershey kisses in the sacks, and just too see the already red captain blush even brighter, Tony reached over and plucked a candy cane from the patriotic sausage sweater. Steve hid his face with a groan as Tony grinned lecherously, popping the peppermint candy in to his mouth with a very unnecessary moan.
"Steve, you can't be so easily embarrassed, you're only giving Pep an Nat their sadistic satisfaction," the playboy laughed, stashing his own small gift in its bag. Aforementioned women were now rolling on the floor, laughing so hard that tears rolled down their faces. All the men (sans Tony) glared with half-hidden embarrassment and unwilling amusement as the women's laughter morphed in to snorts and half-spoken sentences.
Ok, so maybe the penis joke thing was better than I thought, Tony mused as he watched them, but next year, they better watch out because I am going all out! He wouldn't even have to wait till next Christmas! April Fool's was practically around the corner after all...