Everyone Hates Mornings (Even Steve Rogers)
The Avengers had all been living in the Tower for two months now. A collective breakfast had started out slowly, gaining participants as time passed. And now, everyone knew each others' habits for waking in the morning.
/
\
/
\
Bruce was always the first one up, unless Toni had pulled an all-nighter in the lab, which happened less and less these days. He came out to the kitchen at six forty-five exactly, and started deciding what to cook for breakfast, already fully dressed and sipping his favorite tea, imported straight from India.
Natasha usually woke at seven and headed to the gym to train a bit before breakfast. At seven thirty, she entered the kitchen dressed impeccably and helped Bruce with making the meal.
Thor ambled out of his room at seven forty-five, when the sun typically rose on Asgard, in casual clothes. Now that he was settled in, he didn't wear his armor unless a battle was suspected or they were called into S.H.I.E.L.D. He blinked and drank a soda while watching them make breakfast, no matter how many times Bruce told him soda was extremely unhealthy for him.
Clint and Toni typically walked in around eight, sometimes stretching it to eight thirty. They both found it hard to leave the comfort of their beds, Toni because she pulled late nights and Clint because scrambling through the Tower's vents was no picnic, especially when you did it all day, every day. Clint usually came in in sweatpants or pajama pants and various t-shirts, his hair spiky from sleep. Toni's hair was pulled into a messy bun or ponytail, or in wild, messy curls. She was dressed for the day about 88% of the time, and the other 12% was spent in tank tops or old t-shirts paired with pajama pants or shorts, looking like death warmed over. On these days, she joined Clint in basically drinking out of a coffee pot, not bothering with a mug (good thing they had two).
The most surprising morning routine was Steve's. He never emerged before eight forty-five, sometimes lingering until nine and swearing loudly when his alarm forced him out of bed. The first time she'd heard it, Toni nearly called S.H.I.E.L.D. inquiring as to who'd kidnapped Steve and replaced him with a clone. He typically dragged himself into the kitchen, still in his pajamas, hair mussed from sleep. He grumbled until he drank a cup of coffee (black), then ate his breakfast and did the dishes.
He did them alone about seventy-five percent of the time, and the other times was assisted by Bruce, Natasha, or a reluctant Toni.
/
\
/
\
On this morning, Steve stood at the sink doing dishes, wearing a grey Army t-shirt and American flag pajama pants that Toni had given him for Christmas the previous year. His hair looked like it'd been through a hurricane, and it took all Toni had not to run her hands through it and smooth it down.
She'd stayed up nearly until three working on a new idea, and regretted it immensely. Her hair was up in a haphazard bun that threatened to fall out any minute, she had bags under her eyes, and was wearing her enormous MIT sweatshirt with a pair of red shorts. She grabbed a towel and started drying the dishes and putting them away, stifling a yawn despite the fact that she'd drank nearly a whole pot of coffee.
Neither noticed when Natasha snapped a photo and uploaded it to her Instagram, titling it #domestic.
Her followers went crazy, all tweeting #StoniIsReal. Natasha didn't have the heart to tell them that hadn't been what she meant (and also Steve and Toni's reactions had been hilarious).
/
\
/
\
No songs for this one, sorry.