December first, it's a Friday, and eight-thirty in the morning. Hello, Manhattan. Steve Rogers pulls the sheets off his waist and makes no heed to the snow blanketing the streets below, if only he bothers to look out of his window from the forty-fifth storey. Anyway, since it's December, he's expecting the Tower to get lit up at night like a giant, phallus-like Christmas tree – screams of Stark in every way imaginable – so he might as well do the sight-seeing after dinner.
December may not start off as well as he thinks, beginning from the multiple eyebrow raises, deer in the headlight looks he keeps getting as he makes his way to the staff kitchen. There's one at the end of forty-fifth storey which is meant for the Avengers' personal use, but he enjoys having his meals with some company. This is hardly the first time Captain America has wandered the commoners' floor to get himself breakfast for a champion, so he greets every passing employee with a courteous "Good morning!" and eventually, "Is there something on my face? What is it?"
He's not the only one with the brilliant idea of sharing meals with non-superheroes. Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton have already polished their cereal bowls, and both are waving at him from the table they are seated at. Steve gratefully joins them, this time adamantly refusing to acknowledge a scowling janitor who mutters under his breath, "Faggot."
"Steve, over here!" Natasha hollers, and Steve decides to shelve it.
"Beautiful morning, isn't it?" Clint offers Steve a basket of garlic bread. If by beautiful Clint means the bleary sky and streets covered in sleet, sure, why not? "I bet your Facebook wall must be bursting with posts."
"… I don't have a Facebook account. Pass me the forks, please? Thanks."
"You don't have a Facebook account?" Natasha dabs at her lips with a paper napkin. "Interesting. Have you by any chance, uh, seen Tony around? On your way here, maybe?"
"No." These eggs are delicious! His compliments to the chef. "He's supposed to be here. We're scheduled for a meeting with Senator Briggs in DC next Tuesday, there are concerns that we need to discuss over before we lay out recommendations." Natasha's phone chimes, and Steve takes a swig of coffee from Clint's mug. "It's not sustainable for Stark Industries to be billed continually for damages, not when Tony is already privately funding the Avengers operation. The President wishes to transfer that authority to a new subcommittee called Damage Control. It's not…" Under the table, Natasha seems to be sliding her phone over to Clint, who looks down to his lap and gapes at whatever it is that's playing on the screen. "… an arrangement that Tony is comfortable with. Is there something going on that I need to aware of?"
Both Clint and Natasha look up and shake their heads in unison. Steve chews his breakfast slowly, and he turns around. Fifteen other heads flicker as they turn away, and Steve sets his fork on his plate with a resounding clank. "Huh. Anyway, since you're the one with the phone, mind calling Tony for me? Ask him where he is, because if he's not coming down for breakfast, I'm going out for a quick supply run. Ask him if he'd like me to get anything for him?"
Natasha schools her expression back to neutral, and whips her phone out in full view. "And, sent."
Steve finishes his food and waves them off. Unpredictability may be in Tony's blood, but he's not one to miss meetings, mini or landmarks. He's disciplined to a militaria standard, wild and out-of-the-box when it's required of him. Which is why Steve finds himself prowling the corridor of Tony's private workshop, the one that is currently dark and quiet save for the background humming of idling machineries.
Is Tony even in New York?
Steve puts on his down jacket and skips into the wintry morning. Things get odder from hereon. People in modern New York tend to keep to themselves on a bright, summer evening and become even more subdued towards year-end but now? Steve counts six strangers fist-bumping him and one actually screamed, "I knew it!", his breath fogging up between their faces. Steve promptly looks up in the sky in case there are three giant moons hanging or something, because this can't be planet Earth anymore.
He pays for a pair of toothbrushes, a toothpaste and shaving cream to share, and receives two more high-fives on the way out of the shop. Only when he walks past a Samsung store with two rows of gigantic TV screens mounted to the wall in their preview window does Steve stop clean in his tracks. Upon watching what's currently playing on CNN, he nearly drops his purchases and lower jaw.
An anonymous user going by the name Hacktz, whose account has since been taken down, shared this three-minute video clip on Facebook. It racked five thousand views within the first minute, and has since gone past the fifteen million-count within the first three hours of sharing.
Two men are making out someplace Steve cannot recognise, but Guy A is most certainly Tony Stark, and Guy B is… this cannot be right, right? He would've remembered smooching Tony if they ever did, but he does not. They don't look like hired performers either. Or doppelgangers – no, he's seriously watching himself and Tony lip-locking, hands snaking under each other's clothes. Oh, oh, as if this cannot get worse, the video cuts to a tastefully captured scene in which his hip is joined with Tony's buttocks, and cue a lot animalistic grunting and thrusting and –
"Captain Rogers?" Someone just tapped on his shoulder, and Steve turns his heels, his cheeks and nose as red as Rudolph's. "I'm glad that you're on our side. The LGBT community thanks you and Mr Stark, for coming out, I mean, we've come a long way, Captain. Thank you." The man – young, barely out of his twenties – shakes Steve's hands and hops off into the snow.
Steve turns back to the TV screen, but the news anchor has moved on to Sports.
You guys probably would've known by now that I rarely write fluff and humour, but I dabble in them because I like straying out of my comfort zone sometimes. For the returning readers, I know I'm behind my Heroic Ages series, and the Keeper series. I'm working on them, and I want to thank you guys for your support :)
In the meantime, I want to share with you this short-fic to celebrate the AO3 Writer group on Facebook, for welcoming 5000 members, whoo! This is a fun event that the admins are putting together (hence the AO3 FB 5000 tag).
Please enjoy! As usual, comments and concrit of all shapes and sizes are most welcomed!
A sex recording with Steve Rogers and Tony Stark found its way to Facebook. Problem is, Steve has no recollection of it ever happening. Cue a manhunt for Tony, a weird-as-heck explanation and maybe, a confession?
Fluff and Humor ×
Mutual Pining ×
Sex Tapes ×
Denial of Feelings ×
Bottom Tony Stark ×
Top Steve Rogers ×
Steve Rogers-centric ×
AO3 FB 5000 ×