The Gym
It was no surprise that the Tower was rebuilt and complete in less than two months. Though it had taken much convincing to let Fury sign off on his two best agents living permanently there, soon all five Avengers had agreed. Tony had designed each Avenger their own floor built to meet all their needs, thanks to Tony's snooping around in the files SHIELD had on each of them.
Steve's floor had a whole room filled with books, DVDs, objects from each decade that he had missed in order to help him adjust and assimilation to the 21st century. Manuals had been left next to their devices so he didn't need to keep asking Jarvis how to work the microwave when he wanted Popcorn, or how to turn down the volume on the television. He also had a walk in closet full of punching bags that he could hang and beat the crap out of.
Bruce's floor was essentially Hulk-proof, well, Tony had claimed it was. The floor and support beams were reinforced several times over and with a high ceiling so if he did Hulk-out, he wouldn't go crashing through the top floor. He had his own lab, which he hardly used since he spent most of his time in the joint lab with Tony.
Thor's room was completely soundproof, an adjustment made after he had moved in. The team had learnt that Thor was worse than Steve when it came to technology. Jarvis has startled him numerous times, resulting in the destruction of three coffee machines, a toaster and two flat-screen TV's.
Clint's floor was equipped with a small range; dummies and targets of all shapes and sizes, and an assortment of experimental arrowheads Tony had designed. Tony had also designed the floor with a high ceiling with beams across it. According to the security feed Tony had, Clint had spent enough time up in the rafters that Tony was convinced he may have built an actual nest in the shadows where the cameras couldn't see.
Natasha's floor was directly above Clint's; filled with weapons of all sorts, which had earned Tony a rare proper smile from her. Like Clint's, there was a small range that was soundproof, so she could practise with her new toys and not wake anyone when she decided the middle of the night was the perfect time to rip apart a target with one of her guns.
Of course Tony's floor was at the top, along with the communal lounge and kitchen area which everyone used.
The elevators opened up straight to the lounge rooms of each floor; while hand scans and voice checks were needed to access the tower, once inside, the Avenger's had access to each other's floors. A "security measure" Tony had claimed, in case something went wrong and access was needed to any floor at any time. He had told them over breakfast the first morning they had all spent there. Natasha had threatened him with a spoon, making it clear that her floor was only to be accessed in an emergency, and then went on to list, in detail, what didn't constitute an emergency, including needing coffee, or to check why the camera's had been disabled.
The training room/floor was between Clint's and Thor's. Steve had only come down because he had punched a hole through the last of his punching bag supply. It was the middle of the night and he didn't expect there to be anyone else there; which is how he found himself witnessing the last thing he expected.
He noticed the tangles of red hair on the far side of the room first, followed by the murmured voices of the two resident assassins. They had been sparring, both wearing shorts and singlets, though Natasha's both were definitely shorter and tighter. The singlet pulled tight across her breasts and Steve blushed when he realised he was staring, but he couldn't turn away.
He was intrigued, mesmerised by the caresses and movements of the two assassins before him. He was curious about it. Not so much the people, but the act. Tony had made it out to seem like a meaningless engagement, purely for pleasure and self gratification. He had offered to show Steve several . . . websites? Is that what they were called? That contained movies of the act itself; the very notion had Steve redder than a tomato. The idea that the union between two people in love had been turned into nothing more than entertainment crushed him. But it was different with these two. It wasn't about self gratification, or releasing tension. Steve got the feeling that the feelings between the two ran deep, possibly love. Natasha had said on numerous occasions that love was for children. But this made him wonder if she truly believed her own words.
Natasha was smiling, soft and tender up at Clint. She pulled him down so she could kiss him gently. Steve had always suspected there was something more to their partnership, the sexual tension between them, the sly looks between them and the secret conversations had reddened Steve's cheeks on numerous occasions, yet he couldn't pull himself away from the scene in front of him.
Soon the tenderness between them was gone, replaced by frenzied kisses and hands tearing at clothing. Natasha moaned when Clint's hands made their way under her singlet, tracing breasts. It was an act that had Steve wondering what they felt like, what they would feel like in his own hands. It was no secret that he was a virgin; he had learnt to block out Tony's persistent attempts to take him out and find a woman. The only woman he would wish to participate in this act of love with was long in the past. A simple kiss the last memory of her touch, the last words were words filled with a promise left broken.
Steve was brought back to reality by a moan from across the room.
Clint kissed his way up from her stomach to her breast as his hands pulled the singlet over her head.
Blatant curiosity was replaced almost immediately after Natasha's breasts were revealed, and Steve turned away, suddenly felt disgusted with himself. He was intruding on a private moment and had let his curiosity of the situation take over instead of walking away.
While he had been scolding himself, he was unaware that the two behind him had redressed and were up.
"Steve?" it was Natasha's voice, and it scared the shit out of him.
He was certain death or serious harm was in his immediate future, but when he turned around to face her, she wasn't glaring at him, or wielding any potentially dangerous object.
"I- I'm sorry, so sorry, I was curious. Things are so different, and Tony was trying to get me to go out and he's been showing me these movies, and everything's-" he could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks as he tried to explain himself.
"Steve, you don't have to be embarrassed." She interrupted him,
"Yes, yes I do, and you should be angry. I shouldn't have been here. It was rude and very disrespectful of me to watch."
"It's okay, really." The sincerity in her voice shocked him.
"You're not the first to walk in on us." Clint admitted.
"I really didn't mean to. I came to use the punching bag and you were here and—" he was gesturing to where they had been laying. "And I've been trying to stay busy so Tony can't try and take me to a bar again to find me someone to, you know, fondue." His said 'fondue' nervously.
"Tony isn't the best person for that." Clint said,
"I can make you a deal. You don't tell Stark about this and I'll make sure that he doesn't bother you again about fondue?" Natasha was smirking now and Steve could see the glint in her eye as she planned the possible ways to deal with Stark.
"Deal."
