A/N: Since Deadpool doesn't exist in the same movie-verse with the Avengers, this fic is obviously non-canon compliant crack treated seriously. As usual, I'd like to thank Sudoku for prompting me with this scenario during one of our email conversations back in August 2015. Yes, it's been two years, but after finding the unfinished draft notes recently, I had to take another crack at it. Here goes nothing!
Tony sneaks a quick glance at the text he just received.
"Is he still here?"
Sighing under his breath, he chooses to ignore the message from Natasha for now. He'd answer if he wasn't so busy playing host to their uninvited guest. I mean really! A guy shares intel with you a few times and now he thinks he can drop in unannounced. Tony just wishes he could've made himself scarce like everyone else in the tower had.
Tony's thoughts get interrupted by Deadpool's obnoxious throat clearing. "Hey, Stark! Are you gonna stand here all day or should I wander off without ya?"
"Excuse you?" Tony quickly pockets his phone and refocuses on leading Deadpool off the elevator and into the hall. "It'll be a cold day in hell before I let you roam the tower unsupervised. Especially after that last incident when you tried and failed to fly off with one of my suits."
Deadpool shrugs at the annoyed look Tony shoots him. "Yea, sorry about that hole in the wall. I was goin' for the window."
"Apology not accepted. Anyways, here's the Rec Room." Tony waves an arm toward the bar and sitting area. "We can hang out here, I guess."
"Sure." Deadpool agrees, before beelining to the nearest couch. "So where's the rest of the gang anyway? I thought you said they were around."
"Uh, I think they had lunch plans." Tony lies.
The red material on Deadpool's forehead moves just enough to show his raised brows underneath.
"Funny how your teammates are always conveniently preoccupied every time I'm around."
Deadpool's casual suspicion does not escape Tony, yet Tony refuses to rise to the bait.
"Yea, funny coincidence." He answers instead, his tone dry.
"Well screw them!" Deadpool huffs, "You and I can entertain ourselves just fine with what I had in mind."
"And what is that exactly?" Asks Tony cautiously.
"Just a little daring game. You up for it?"
"Eh, I don't know. Dares have a tendency to go south fast around here."
"Oh c'mon, ya pussy! What could go wrong? It's not like you have to dare me to kill someone."
When Stark chuckles, Deadpool adds, "Nah really, you wouldn't. I'd do it anyway, a favor for a friend."
Tony has the feeling Deadpool's grinning at him from underneath his mask. That imagery kind of gives him the creeps.
"Yea...No thanks on the murder favor."
"Your loss." Deadpool teases. He leans back in his seat and kicks his feet up on the arm rest. "Now, do the honors and lay a kickass dare on me. And quick, before I get bored."
Tony grumbles and almost wants to dare him to shut up for 24 hours, but that would be a cheap shot and probably a bit too petty. Plus, the last thing he wanted was a bored Deadpool, whether he's silent or not. So he gives in and racks his brain for a dare idea weird enough to suit Deadpool's bizarre standards.
While scanning the room, Tony catches sight of Mjolnir parked upside down on the coffee table where Thor had left it earlier.
Smirking, he jerks a thumb toward the mystical weapon. "Fine, I dare you to pull a Miley Cyrus and lick Thor's hammer."
Deadpool doesn't need more than a second to think about this before he answers, "Dare accepted!"
"Hell," He tacks on, "I'll even do you one better and serenade you with a chorus of 'Wrecking Ball.' "
"With clothes on, I hope. Cuz it's very important to me that you have clothes on."
"Aw, you're no fun." Deadpool quips.
While Deadpool stands, the billionaire takes a ringside seat across from Mjolnir and waits for the show he knows he'll probably soon regret watching.
Swaggering seductively toward the hammer, Deadpool begins to sing in a god-awful voice, "Don't you ever say I just walked away. I will always want yooouuu…"
Tony bursts out laughing when he falls to his knees with dramatic flair, howling, "I came in like a WRECKING BAAAALLLL! I never hit so hard in LOOVEEE!"
His fist slams down on the underside of the hammer's head, "All I wanted was to break your WAAALLLSSS! All you ever did was... BRE-EA-AAK ME!"
Deadpool peels back the bottom half of his mask far enough to free his mouth and leans in slowly, "Yeah you, you wre-ee-eck me!"
On that last horribly sung note, his grip tightens around Mjolnir's base and he runs his tongue across the metal detailing.
"Mmm," Deadpool moans, "Aged sweat and blood: my favorite flavors."
"I hope to God you're joking."
Ignoring Stark, Deadpool dips his head down again for another taste, this time licking a long strip up the leather wrapped handle.
It eventually starts to verge on the side of obscene, forcing Tony to look away with a grimace.
"Uh... okay there buddy. You win."
By the loud smacking sounds Deadpool is making, Tony's words must have fallen on deaf ears. He tries again, "Seriously, you can stop there. I'm starting to feel uncomfortable now."
"WHAT IN HELHEIM...?" Exclaims a booming voice from their left.
Tony can't resist face palming here, because of course Mjolnir's owner decides to stroll through the room the moment Deadpool has the handle halfway down his throat.
"Oh…hey Thor!" Deadpool mumbles around the hammer. He finally does come up for air, taking a moment to wipe his drool covered chin with the crook of one arm.
Meanwhile, Thor's face contorts into a range of emotions. There's shock, disgust, rage, but he finally settles on something that looks akin to anguish.
"What... what have you done to her?" Says Thor, his voice almost breaking.
"Her?" Deadpool asks, his head nodding downward to where his gloved hands are still wrapped around the handle's shaft. "I could have sworn it was a he."
Thor takes a menacing step forward that even Deadpool in all his insanity did not dare challenge.
"Unhand her immediately!" The Thunderer demands.
Wordlessly, Deadpool backs away.
Seeing the dangerous gleam in Thor's eyes, Tony figures now he should probably intervene before the Merc with a Mouth got pulverized beyond recognition and Tony's forced to witness his regenerating abilities at work on the Rec Room floor.
"Look Thor, go easy on him." Tony begins, "He was just joking around for a dare."
"But he has defiled her!"
"I understand, Blondie, but look, there's always soap, bleach, ... a bucket of Purell."
"Ooh, there's a flame thrower I could let you borrow." Deadpool offers helpfully. "It'll purify it, but you might want to mind your leather."
Thor acknowledges this suggestion with nothing more than a growl. The god then steps forward once again, prepared to reclaim his weapon, only hesitating after he seems to think better of it.
"I shall return for her later. But remind this one to keep his repulsive tongue to himself, unless he wishes it to be ripped out." Thor tells Tony with an ominous snarl.
The Aesir delivers one final warning glare in Deadpool's direction before striding away, the sound of thunder rumbling in his wake.
"Sooo…" Deadpool drawls into the sudden quiet, "That was awkward."
Several hours later, long after Deadpool had left, Steve steps into the Rec Room chatting with Sam. Their conversation tapers off once they both hear a sloshing noise coming from the corner.
When they look over, the first thing they notice is bottles and bottles of empty hand sanitizer containers scattered around the room. Sitting in the corner is none other than Thor, stooped over an industrial sized bucket. He's got Mjolnir hanging off one finger by its strap as he dunks it repeatedly into the bucket of sanitizer.
Thor meets the puzzled gazes of the two men and only has to utter one word in explanation: "Deadpool."