It was just supposed to be a nice day out at the supermarket. Since moving into Tony's tower, they had no real need to go out shopping, they could order groceries and other things in. But Steve liked the task and occasionally took it upon himself to stock the kitchen. And there was no day better for it. The weather was great, with blue skies, cheery little birds, and the whole shebang. It was a gorgeous day. Go for a morning jog, a quick shower, down time, errands, some shopping, back home, bing-bam-boom, done. Easy. Simple.

He should have known that nothing could be so simple with Tony. Tony, who had been up uncharacteristically early and who had volunteered to tag along. Tony, whom he should have denied. Master tactician that he was, Steve should have seen this coming.

In hindsight, Tony hadn't done anything too horrible, hadn't set anything or anyone on fire, hadn't mouthed off at anyone or showcased his occasional crass behavior in front of an unsuspecting child. But for some reason he was being extremely, intentionally lewd and grabby and it was driving Steve bananas. At first, it had started innocently enough (enough for Tony, that is).

"Hey Tones, you up for Mexican tonight?" He had asked, holding up some jalapenos for inspection.

"Sure, babe. Maybe after dinner we could…really spice things up," he replied running his hand up and down Steve's arm.

Steve chuckled low at that, and surrendered a "Sure, hon."

He shouldn't have encouraged him. He should have known what would follow. Next thing he knew, everything he touched or brought up was an innuendo. Each one a little worse than the last. Each accompanied by a teasing little graze, pinch or smack somewhere. Such as when they were in the produce section:

"I think we're out of lettuce, and I was thinking of making a side salad for Thursday's dinner. I'm sure Bruce will appreciate something semi-healthy for once."

"I'd toss your salad. I'm sure you'd appreciate a healthy dose of that."

"Tony, come on, get serious."

"I am serious."

When looking for dough:

"Do you want me to make pizza or Stromboli?"

"Up to you babe. The only thing I knead is you."

"Aw, that one was actually kind of sweet. But still lame. Stromboli it is."

Or later, at the frozen meats section:

When reaching for a pack of hotdogs, Tony pipes in, "I want to boil your hotdog."

Steve decides to ignore the statement and immediately stops reaching for the pack and aborts any attempt at buying anything remotely phallic. "Do you think I should grill some steaks or should we go with marinated chicken?"

"I don't know about the chicken babe, but I do know that I want to get you marinating in your own juices."

Of course. Steve sighs, "Tony, stop, seriously."

"My passion for you is unstoppable."

"What's gotten into you today?"

"Not enough of you."

"Ew. Okay, we are done. You are officially disowned. I'm not gonna talk to you again unless you behave."

"What'll my reward be?"

"Not being banned to the couch tonight, that's what."

The threat works, and longer than Steve expects. Five minutes go by, and Steve starts to breathe easier. Ten more minutes go by without incident, and when Tony pulls out his phone and starts tapping away at it, Steve lets his guard down. He thinks maybe for once he'd won. But, alas, poor Steve never really wins when his boyfriend is involved. He's sorting through avocados for the perfect brown ones so he can make guacamole tonight and not have to worry about waiting for the green ones to get soft. All of a sudden, someone's hand is in his back pocket.

"This fruit is ripe."

Tony.

"What. The. Actual. Hell," Steve whirls on him, and grabs him by the shoulders roughly. Judging by Tony's wince, maybe a little too roughly. He softens his hold on him but still hisses out, "You need to stop, this is totally inappropriate and you're embarrassing me."

"Whoa cool down, Cap. I was just messing around."

"You weren't just messing around," Steve looks around and carts Tony over to an empty aisle for at least an illusion of privacy. "You haven't been this weird-flirty since we first started dating, and I want to know what's brought it up again."

"As if you don't know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve asked, thoroughly confused.

"You and Mr. Hungry Eyes at the deli counter, chatting it up, flirting shamelessly with no consideration for me standing right next to you! Well, excuse me for getting territorial!"

Oh. Oh no. Jealousy. The real green rage monster of the Initiative. And Tony's was the absolute worst.

"I didn't notice any flirting, Tones, I'm sorry if I alienated you or made you feel bad."

"You really didn't notice? Steve…he said, and I quote, 'make sure you stop by again, so I can pound your meat for you'. That didn't sound weird to you?"

"He's a butcher, Tony, that's his job."

"He was totally scoping you out! He probably wrote his number on the wax paper or something!"

Steve started to laugh a little, "Okay, maybe he was flirting with me, but I honestly didn't notice and I'm sorry if you felt bad. Listen, you know I love you and that some flirty kid behind a deli counter is never gonna change that, right?"

"…Yeah…I guess so…I know so, I'm sorry Steve, I really embarrassed you, I was being immature."

"It's okay. Just know that you never have to do anything to claim me, I'm already yours. And please never use grocery puns again," Steve laughs.

Tony laughs too, "I know, I was running out of good ones."

"None of those were good ones!"

"You have to admit, they were clever."

"Maybe." He pecks Tony on the lips, "Would it make you feel better if we went the long way to the registers, just to walk past the deli holding hands?"

Tony seems torn and Steve can guess why. Tony is a proud man, and he would have to stoop to a childish level to rub it in the butchers face that Steve was taken. Then again…there was the satisfaction of seeing the disappointment on the butcher's face.

Tony's childishness wins out, and he smiles and grabs Steve's hand. "Let's go."

As they walk past the deli, one of Steve's hands holding Tony's and the other pushing the shopping cart, Steve risks a quick look at the guy working the counter. Still the same man, Mr. Hungry Eyes, and he looks up as they pass. The man's face clearly falls. He really had been scoping Steve, then. Steve can see Tony smirking from the corner of his eyes and it's clearly directed at the deli boy, so Steve decides to quicken the pace a little to save the butcher from extra embarrassment. He feels a little guilty for suggesting the little detour, but he hadn't actually thought the butcher had been flirting. He was just doing it to humor Tony. But Tony seemed to be happier, so he supposed it was worth it.

When they finally got home, Tony decided he wanted the steaks instead of Mexican, and Steve, being the gentleman he is, obliged. Tony departed to his lab and Steve started prepping dinner. As he unwrapped the steaks, something caught his eye as he went to throw the paper away. A bit of blue text, scrawled quickly on the corner.

"Well, I'll be damned."

Mr. Hungry Eyes had written his number. Just like Tony had guessed. Steve shook his head and threw the wrapping away. What Tony doesn't know won't hurt him. Or, more accurately, what Tony doesn't know won't hurt the deli guy. A jealous boyfriend is a force to be reckoned with.