Bath Time: With A Vengeance!

Steve never could predict what silly little after-victory excursion Tony would come up with next. Every Time they got together two things always seemed to be a constant: one, they somehow manage to save the world from some sort of horrible threat, and two, Tony insists that they all go do some strange little activity before they went their separate ways.

"It's a great way for the team to unwind and bond." Tony says, giving an exaggerated thumbs up as if he is some sort of overzealous camp counselor.

First it had been the shawarma, then he had insisted on going bumper car riding after that nuclear situation in Africa. A few months later when they had been forced to divert yet another alien attack he had rented out the nearest water park, a ritzy Japanese establishment, and bought them all swimsuits and garish plastic animal floaties with the press of a button on that phone of his.

But absolutely none of that can measure up to the absolute ridiculousness that this is, not even that one time at the Pottery Barn.

"Don't worry you guys." Tony says, leaning back against the tiled wall. "I've been to one of these before, it's a great way to relax."

"And exactly how sober were you when you were last here Stark?" Natasha asks.

Tony shrugs. "Don't remember."

"I do not find that reassuring." Thor comments dryly, looking uncomfortable. They had managed to get his armor off but he had refused to give up his hammer. It is next to him, lying heavily upon the wooden bench.

"I must admit, I am not really built to withstand such...heat."

It is rare that Loki, the newest and most dubious addition to their team spoke. He senses, and correctly so, that many of the members of the team still harbor some resentment towards his past infractions. Steve casts a meaningful glance at Clint who is glaring daggers at the demigod.

Now that Steve thinks about it, they are treading into dangerous waters.

Oh god, that's sort of, almost literal.

As a group used to sudden danger, they all have a habit of keeping their weapons with them, except for Bruce, his weapon is always with him. In fact, he is the only one of them who looks even marginally comfortable, except for Stark, who always looks comfortable, sitting naked in his quiet corner of what he had cheerfully labeled "the warm room."

So there they are, heavily armed, tensions rising, and completely naked in some nameless Uzbekistan bathhouse.

It could only go downhill from here.

-

Steve is forced to redefine his idea of downhill when they reach the massage portion of the TUrkish bath.

He is a supersoldier, a scientific miracle of genetic engineering.

But he still does not bend that way.

Neither do most of the team.

Banner is doing is absolute best not to lose control but he can already see the green begin to tint his eyes as the surly masseuse tries again to lift his legs over his head in a way that no man's leg should be lifted.

Thor has already caused a scene, stating that no rightful King of Asgard should ever be treated in such a manner. He is currently having his neck cracked by a 60 year old Turkish woman with the brusque air of someone who doesn't give a shit, even if you are a god.

Loki has disappeared completely, leaving behind a towel that won't' stop rat tailling anyone who comes within fifteen feet of it.

The only reason Clint hasn't noticed and piped up at the unfairness of it all is because he's too busy ogling Natasha who is looking bored as her own masseuse struggles to find some sort of position or stretch that she herself isn't already able to fit into with ease. There's an ominous cracking noise from his back as the burly looking Russian man begins to work his shoulder blades, and Clint doesn't so much as blink.

Steve feels his legs being lifted into the air. He hates Tony.

The man in question is sitting pretty, completely unphased by any of the horrors that his body is undergoing. Steve attributes this to the healing draught of Absinthe he'd had fifteen minutes prior.

Jackass.


i'm churning 'em out. no edits or betas though.

-Schyzotypal X