A/N - Written for:

Tony Stark Bingo: A5 - Tony Stark/Stephen Strange

Marvel Polyship Bingo: B4 - Amateur porn

Trope Bingo Round 14: N5 - Rivals working together

MCU Kink Bingo: B5 - Doing a striptease

IronStrange Bingo: I1 - Wong

and Bucky Barnes Bingo: Y4 - AU Thief

The shop was tucked neatly away just beside the steps of 177a Bleeker Street, with a door that all but blended into the wall. Doubtlessly, it didn't get a lot of foot traffic, since people would have had to know it was there to decide on going in.

The empty apartment on the second floor of the building across the street, however, was a great deal less empty than it should be. Two of the windows were slightly open, and, if one were to look carefully, they'd see something in each window glinting in the weak sunlight.

The inside of the apartment was decorated exactly how you'd expect an empty apartment to be, except for the two men crouching in front of the windows with an eye each pressed to a telescope, and a third man sitting on the floor not too far away from the third window, his gaze fixed downwards on a screen held in his lap.

"I thought you said this would be easy," one of the men with telescopes grumbled, momentarily ducking away to send a glare at the third man.

"I said it would be easier," the man corrected absently, his fingers dancing over his screen as if he were playing the piano. Or spider solitaire, the second man discovered when he, too, shot a look over his shoulder. He hmpfed in disgust and turned his attention back to the shop across the street.

Almost immediately, he stiffened, catching the attention of the other two. "Look, Wong's coming out," he informed them.

Across the street, the middle-aged man that ran the shop – and possibly owned it, too; it had been impossible to discover that information, much to their chagrin – had indeed stepped outside the shop and appeared to be idly glancing up and down the street as if waiting for somebody. A blast of horns sounded from further down the street, and Wong stepped out of the shop doorway towards the edge of the sidewalk, craning his head to see what was going on.

The third man, who'd been frantically typing into the laptop based just under the third window, made a suppressed noise of triumph and smacked one last key in an extravagant gesture. "I'm in!" he hissed, excitedly, then glanced guiltily at his two companions. "I mean, we're in," he hastily corrected himself.

"So now we wait," the first man said, using his telescope to watch Wong shake his head at whatever he saw down the street and turn to re-enter his shop. "Let's hope Wong doesn't take it with him when he leaves tonight."

"We'll be ready if he does," the second man said calmly. "But yes; now we wait."

And so they waited.

"Well, now." The words were purred, despite having to be shouted to be heard over the dance music. "Imagine seeing you in a place like this."

"Oh, fuck off," James Barnes retorted, not even having to turn around to know who exactly was standing behind him. He curled a hand around his beer bottle.

Tutting in disapproval, Stephen Strange slid round from behind him and flopped casually into the other side of the booth. "Is that any way to greet an old friend?" he asked. One of his hands began inching towards James' beer, and he casually lifted the bottle, pretending that he'd only wanted a drink from it. Stephen gave a brief pout, but then his face dropped back into the serious expression he usually had. "I have an offer for you," he said.

"No," said James, before he'd even managed to get another word out. "Hell, no!"

"You don't even know what it is!" Stephen objected, frowning at him.

James slammed the beer bottle back onto the table and crossed his arms, scowling right back at Stephen. "There's only one reason that you'd find me here," he said, "and—" A movement near the front of the club caught his attention. "—And there it is," he finished on a resigned sigh.

"Excuse you," said Stephen, indignantly. "Maybe I have an actual offer for you, and him being here is just coincidence. You ever think of that?"

"No," James told him, again. "Because he's Tony Stark; Stark doesn't do coincidences."

As if the universe wanted to emphasise his point, that very moment was the one when Tony Stark appeared beside their table. He grinned delightedly down at them both. "Stephen! James!" he exclaimed, flinging his arms out as though aiming for a hug. James hastily slid sideways away from him.

This turned out to be a tactical error, as Stark immediately took this as an invitation, and sat himself down next to James, leaning forward to prop his arms on the table. "My two favourite people," he gushed, looking from one to the other. "And in the same place, no less! My night just got a whole lot better."

James glared at Stephen. "This is your fault," he said, pointing an accusing finger at Stephen.

Stephen shook his head. "Look, we have a job offer," he said. "Are you willing to listen to it?"

"No," James repeated. He was getting tired of having to do so. He turned the accusing finger on Stark. "I refuse to work with him."

"What? Why?" Stark's expression dropped into the fakest pout James had ever seen, and he'd seen some doozies from his three-year-old nephew.

James glared at him and leant forward over the table. "Because," he growled, "the last time we worked together, you tripped an alarm, one that you said you'd dismantled, and then you tripped me and shoved me into a room that just so happened to have an emergency shutter over the doorway that your tripping of the alarm brought down. I came damn close to getting caught, and I am not going to run the risk of going to jail because you can't do your job right."

Stark's expression changed to a full-on sulk. "It wasn't like I meant to do that," he complained. "It was an accident. And I led the guards away from you, didn't I?"

Stephen drummed his fingers on the table to draw their attention to himself. "It won't matter this time," he told them both. "Because you won't be going in. None of us will." The other two men frowned at him. "Look, I was approached by a man calling himself Baron Mordo. There's a shop on Bleeker Street called The Mystic Arts Sanctum, which he says is an antique shop. There's one specific item in there that he wants, and he wants to hire us to get it for him."

"'Us'," Stark repeated, folding his arms and frowning harder. "You mean this guy specifically wanted all three of us to do the job?"

"Yes." Stephen shrugged. "I don't understand why, either. Or how he knew about us. But he's offering a lot of money for this job."

"And you want to take it," said James, shrewdly. "Why? What's so special about this job?"

There was a pause, and then Stephen shook his head. "My reasons are my own," he said. "They won't affect my ability to do the job. Are you in?"

"Sure. I'm in," Stark said, and stuck out a hand for Stephen to shake.

James eyed them both. He wasn't entirely sure it was a good idea to work with them both; Stark, at least, had proved to be somewhat unreliable in the past. He'd never worked with Stephen, or known anybody who had, but word in their circles was that he was a solid partner, able to think fast in a crisis, quick on his feet and with nimble fingers.

"What the hell," he decided, eventually, and smacked a hand onto the table for emphasis. "I'm in."

It was almost midnight before they finally saw Wong exiting the Mystic Arts Sanctum. He was careful about it, examining the street before stepping out, and then testing the lock several times before he was finally satisfied everything was secure.

Stephen pushed back from his telescope and got to his feet, stretching once he was upright. "Come on," he urged the others.

James got to his feet more slowly. "What about the equipment?" he pointed out. "We won't be coming back here, will we?"

Tony had scrambled to his feet like an overexcited puppy, and was now stood at the apartment door, bouncing on the balls of his feet as though someone had said 'walkies'. He gave a dismissive wave in James' direction. "Someone'll come get it," he said. "Now come on, I want to see if it worked!"

James scowled, not at all sure he'd ever get his equipment back if some unknown person of Tony's was coming to collect it and— "Wait, what do you mean IF it worked?" he demanded. "You said it would!"

"It will, it will," Tony assured him, before biting his lip uncertainly. "I mean, I've not tested it before, but I invented it, and all my inventions come out fine!" He beamed at James, as though expecting this to instantly wipe out all of James' doubts.

Unsurprisingly, it did not.

"Ignore him," said Stephen, opening the apartment door. Tony dashed through it and towards the stairs before James could say anything else.

By the time they reached the entrance to the building, Tony looked just like another of the myriad of people outside who were completely absorbed by their phone. James wasn't actually sure Tony wasn't absorbed, as he and Stephen had to make a hurried grab at the other man before he walked straight off the sidewalk into the street.

"And… Jay's taking on the signal," Tony murmured, not looking up. "Sectioning it off… Okay, you're good to go, boys."

"Wonderful. Now never say that again," Stephen instructed as all three of them crossed the street towards the shop's doorway. He reached into the pocket of his jacket as he went, pulling something out just as he reached the Mystic Arts Sanctum's door. To any passers-by – not that there were many of those – it should just look as though Stephen was having minor trouble with a sticky door lock, as he slid something small and shiny into the lock and wiggled it.

Tony glanced up and gave them both a disappointed pout. "You're my boys, aren't you?" he asked, just as the lock gave a soft click and Stephen pushed the door open.

James held his breath for a moment, waiting for the shop alarm to start blaring, but nothing happened, other than Stephen looking back at him and beckoning him in. "We are not boys," he said haughtily to Tony.

"No, you aren't, are you?" Tony mused. "You're right. You're both men; big, strong… virile men…" He sounded like he was drooling and James almost tripped over the threshold as he entered the shop but, when he looked back, Tony was very carefully studying his phone again.

"Good boy, Jay!" he said as he stepped inside the shop. "Now, the artefact should be over here—"

James tuned him out as he turned to fully take in the interior of the shop. It was surprisingly well-lit, even without any light other than the reflected gleam of a streetlamp outside. Antiques and figurines were spread out everywhere. James had expected everything to be inside a glass case, but oddly enough, nothing was. The entire room gave off the impression of a cosy living room.

"James!"

Following the call of his name, James wandered towards the back of the room, and discovered Tony and Stephen stood beside a large statue of a hippo. Tony had his hands on his hips, and Stephen had folded his arms as they studied the thing.

James blinked at it. "Don't tell me we have to steal that?" he said, horrified. "Someone's bound to notice us walking off with it!"

"No, we don't have to take that," Stephen assured him. "The actual thing is in a safe space that's under this hippo. We just have to move it."

"All three of us?" James gave him a dubious look. "Really? There's no way we'll be able to lift it!"

"We'll have to… shuffle it," Tony said, absently. He pressed a hand to the hippo's head and pushed. The statue didn't even wobble.

Which was how, almost an hour later, they found themselves pushing hard enough against a hippo statue to burst a blood vessel. The hippo's front feet were almost off the area that Stephen said had the safe, but half a foot was still on top of it.

Tony was gasping for breath. "I did not sign up for this!" he got out.

"You have to admit," Stephen panted, "this is one hell of a security system."

"It'd better be one hell of a thing we're trying to steal here," grumbled James.

"The best damn thing in the world," Tony agreed.

Stephen abruptly stopped pushing and straightened up, swiping an arm across his forehead. He leant against a delicate-looking table next to him that was covered with figurines made of what looked like crystal but could have been glass for all James knew and closed his eyes. "Alright, stop, let's just… stop for a minute," he said.

James eagerly stopped pushing and allowed himself to merely slump against the hippo in exhaustion, his arms slung over the top of it so that he was almost lying on it. Tony straightened up and began to pace around them, his hands fiddling with something in his pockets, shooting dark looks at the statue as he went. As he passed behind Stephen and the table, his arm shifted again.

"Ah-ah-ah," Stephen said, not even opening his eyes. "Put it back."

"What? I didn't take anything!" Tony protested, but he still circled back around the table. "This is ridiculous," he complained when he reached the front again. He aimed a kick at one of the hippo's back legs. "I wish it'd just move—"

His foot connected with the statue, and there came an odd clanging noise, almost as if someone had dropped a ball of some kind inside it. Puzzled, all three men stared at the back end of the statue. And then, with the whirring of hidden pulleys, the entire hippo abruptly pivoted and swung outwards away from the patch of floor it had been concealing.

James yelped as he lost his support and landed on the floor. Stephen raised his eyebrows and then turned to Tony, who was gaping. "Did you know it could do that?" he demanded.

Tony pulled himself together enough to become indignant. "Of course I didn't! Otherwise I wouldn't have spent almost an hour pushing the damn thing, would I?" he pointed out.

Stephen gave a brief nod and patted him on the shoulder in apology. "Fair enough," he acknowledged. "James, if you'd do the honours of collecting this artefact for us? Since you're already down there," he added.

James gave him a brief two-fingered salute, while Tony laughed, but obligingly reached out to the patch of floor the hippo had been standing on. There was definitely something there – he could feel the faint ridge in the floor where the cover or lid went – but it took him a while of scrabbling around before his fingers caught on what looked to be a simple crack in a floorboard. Hoping this was actually the handle, and not just going to give him splinters, James tried for a firmer grip and began to tug upwards.

He'd apparently gotten too used to the weight of the hippo, as the trapdoor thing came up a hell of a lot easier and would have crashed backwards onto the floor if Stephen hadn't quickly placed a foot there to catch it on. Both Stephen and Tony peered down eagerly as James tentatively reached into the hole, hoping that there weren't any traps down there that would snap shut around his fingers.

Instead, the feel of fabric met his hand. He gingerly felt around a bit more, then grasped hold of the thing to pull it out. It was a covered figurine of some sort, they realised as he lifted it to show the other men, about eight inches tall and almost wider than he could comfortably hold it.

With a triumphant noise, Stephen swooped down to take it from him and held it up almost like he was presenting a trophy so that they could all marvel at it.

With a suddenness that caused all of them to flinch, they were abruptly coated in a blindingly bright pool of white light.

"Shit!" Tony gasped, hands darting up to rub at his eyes. "There must have been another alarm down there."

"Shouldn't your fancy system have detected that?" asked James, burying his face against the floor to shield it.

Stephen grunted. "Never mind that; we have to leave," he pointed out. "Now!"

James began to push himself upright as the other two turned towards the door of the shop, only for all three of them to freeze in their tracks as a thick-looking metal shutter dropped down over it with a rolling crash.

James immediately turned to glare at Tony.

"Look on the bright side," said Tony, brightly, patting James on the head. "This time we're trapped together!"

"That does not help," James growled at him, and knocked his hand away as he fully straightened.

Stephen rolled his eyes. "Come on," he said, and tipped his head towards the back of the shop. "There's another door back there. Hopefully one with no shutter on."

"Well, failing that," said Tony as they hurriedly wove their way around the antiques and furniture, "we can always see if we can climb up to the sunroof."

The sun was creeping over the horizon by the time they arrived back at Stephen's apartment on the other side of the city. They had caught a taxi for most of the journey, but had had the driver drop them off several blocks away, just on the off chance that the authorities had managed to discover who they were and where they were headed, and arrive before them. It took them an hour of watching before they were all convinced that they weren't about to spring a trap if they entered the building.

Once behind the locked door of the apartment, James and Tony flopped onto Stephen's sofa, while he moved one of the dining room chairs and sat primly on it.

"I am not working with either one of you again, fuck that," James groaned, tipping his head back to rest on the back of the sofa.

Tony shifted in place. "I don't know," he said. "I… kinda thought it was fun?" His voice was more tentative than James had ever heard it, as though he were expecting to get brutally shot down.

He lifted his head to look at Tony. The other man had leant his own head back, conveniently allowing him to avoid looking at both James and Stephen. He was fidgeting with the edges of his sleeves.

"Well." Stephen awkwardly cleared his throat. "Perhaps next time we can find something 'fun' to do that doesn't run the risk of us going to jail if we're caught."

Tony tilted his head to peer at Stephen from under his lashes. "You think so?" he asked, bashfully.

James blinked at him. Tony Stark had never been bashful in his life! "You have a plan," he said, accusingly.

Tony rolled his head the other way to grin at James. "I do," he agreed. "I have the best plans!" He abruptly leapt to his feet. "Hit it, Jay!" he called, and dance music began playing from… somewhere. James had no idea where the speakers were, and the music seemed to be coming from everywhere.

Stephen looked just as surprised as James, and then alarmed as Tony advanced on him. The music changed as Tony dropped to sit on Stephen's lap, looping his arms around Stephen's neck. The new track had a hard, pounding bassline, and it sounded familiar to James, although he couldn't put a name to it.

"What—?" Stephen began. He'd automatically caught Tony by the hips to stop the other man from falling off, but he still looked completely startled. Rather like how James felt, in fact. He hadn't been aware that Tony and Stephen had become this close. Rumours usually spread like wildfire.

Tony began moving to the music, head, shoulders and hips moving in a sinuous line in time with the beat of the bass. He ducked his head in briefly to nuzzle against Stephen's jaw and then levered himself up from the other man's lap, sticking his ass a great deal further in James' direction than he thought it should be.

"Isn't this fun?" Tony asked, cheerfully, running his fingers down Stephen's shoulder before swinging around behind Stephen's chair and draping himself all over the other man, until James half expected him to take a header back into Stephen's lap.

"Tony, what are—?" Stephen's voice broke, and he coughed before continuing. "What are you doing?"

"Having fun!" Tony repeated, arching his back as he straightened up and swung himself back round to land back on Stephen's lap, sideways this time. He kicked one leg up in a parody of a showgirl. He leant back, causing Stephen to make an alarmed grab at him to stop him from falling backwards, and tilted his head towards James. "Come join the party, sugar," he offered with a wink.

James considered them both for a moment. He had, as it happened, had a short-lived fling with Tony just a couple of years before, until Tony had betrayed him and almost got him caught on a job. And Stephen wasn't exactly hard on the eyes, either. He might not be the outright extravert that Tony was, but he still had a sense of humour, and James had always gotten on well with him.

"I think," he said eventually, as Tony's expression was beginning to fall, "that we need a change of music. Does your 'Jay' happen to have access to The Stripper?"

Tony's expression lit up again, and Stephen pretended to shake his head in resignation, although he was smiling too. The music abruptly changed without Tony even having to say anything, and the oh-so-familiar sliding jazz notes began to fill the room as James got to his feet.

"Is it just me, or is it getting warm in here?" he asked, one hand reaching up to play with his jacket's zipper before carefully tugging it down the barest inch.

Tony looped an arm around Stephen's neck, cuddling into the other man, whilst his eyes remained on James. "I don't know; I think I'd go with hot," he said.

"Perhaps Stephen should turn the heat down," James suggested, tugging the zip further.

"Perhaps Stephen should leave it just as it is," the man himself interjected. His arms looped around Tony's waist. "After all, we can always share body heat if it seems to be getting too cold." He abruptly nipped at Tony's earlobe, and Tony made a noise that was surprised but pleased.

James finally tugged the zip to the bottom, and let his jacket fall open briefly before rolling back his shoulders to urge it off. It clung for a moment, then fell to the floor. He fingered the bottom of his T-shirt, occasionally pulling it higher so that the other men caught brief glimpses of flesh. Then he walked his fingers up his own body, tugging gently at the shoulders of the T-shirt once he reached there.

"Body heat," he said, pretending to consider this as he dropped his hands back to the bottom of the T-shirt. "You think your body's puttin' off enough heat yet?" Taking hold of the hem, he slowly inched it upwards.

Tony gave a soft groan and slumped further against Stephen. Stephen was licking his lips. "Oh, God yes," Tony said.

Reaching the climax of the song just as his T-shirt was drawn up to mid-chest, James managed to whip it off completely in time with the big musical finish. He was secretly relieved he hadn't gotten it stuck over his head; that would have put a bit of a damper on things.

The noise came from Stephen this time, as James cocked a hip out towards them, his hands placed on the waistband of his jeans, right above the button.

"They do say that sharing blankets helps, too," he offered, helpfully.

"Yes, yes, we should… we should try that," agreed Tony, nodding a bit too fast and almost stumbling over his words. But neither Stephen nor Tony made a move to get up.

James rolled his eyes and began walking towards the door that he figured led to Stephen's bedroom, making sure to exaggerate the movement of his hips as he went past the other two men. He reached for the doorknob and turned to wink at them over his shoulder.

"Uh, James…? That's the bathroom."