A/N: And another kind of laggy update. I am really bad at keeping track of things. It's all written and ready to go and I just keep forgetting to upload. Sorry, guys!
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own gutter-bound imagination. Poor Steve.
Tony wandered into the kitchen a little after noon and was startled to see everyone sitting around the kitchen table. This was a bad sign. Everyone tended to come and go when they felt like it and if everyone was sitting around waiting-
He froze. "What's going on here? This isn't an intervention is it?" He snapped his fingers. "Oh wait, it's the team meeting thing. Oh. That was…that was today. Oops."
Natasha rolled her eyes. "We specifically picked Saturday because you don't have to work. So, no excuse."
"Well, I do have an excuse. Several excuses, actually."
Steve sighed. "I don't care why you were late. Just make yourself a sandwich and sit down."
"Fine, that's fine. Sandwiches are great. I love sandwiches." Tony rummaged around in the fridge. "So, where's the salami? I just bought a thing yesterday. It can't be gone already." He fixed the rest of the group with a stern look. "Okay, who decided to hide my salami?"
Steve did a spit-take of his Coke and doubled over laughing. "Oh, god. I can't. I just can't." He waved a hand awkwardly. "I can't even breathe. Oh god."
Bruce patted him on the back as Steve began coughing and making small choking noises. "Deep breaths, Steve. Deep breaths. Steady."
"Wow," Tony said. "That is not something you see every day."
He looked around the table for confirmation, but everyone except Natasha was looking at Steve with concern.
Natasha drummed her fingers against the table and fixed Tony with a look that was positively murderous. Her hair was wet and there were little droplets of Coke on her cheek.
Tony winced. "I did not mean for that to happen."
She jerked her head towards the den. "Stark. With me. Now."
Tony swallowed hard and followed her into the den. Being alone with Natasha was always dangerous. Doubly so now that she was pissed at him. And he really didn't want to be killed over a slice of salami. That was just pathetic.
He cleared his throat. "So, I am absolutely sorry about your hair. And I will of course pay for anything you need to do to fix it."
She crossed her arms over her chest. "You two are dating, aren't you?"
"Steve and I? Well, yes. Technically. I don't see how that's relevant."
"How often do you two have sex?"
"Uhh, never?"
"Never," she repeated, her eyes hard.
Tony put his hands out defensively. "Hey, it wasn't my idea. You know my reputation. Sex, sex, sex. But Steve said he wasn't ready. Things were different back in his day, you know? You didn't just rush into these things."
"Well, I think he's ready now," she said dryly. "He's been thinking about it all week. So get him laid and spare the rest of us from the sexual tension."
"Sex isn't a magical cure for immaturity. Look at me. I've had a ton of sex and well, I'm still me."
"Just humor me," she said. "Try it."
He shrugged. It couldn't hurt.
When he got back to the kitchen, Steve was alone, scrubbing soda off the table. "I'm sorry, Tony," he said, shoulders slumped. "I kind of ruined our team bonding day."
"There'll be other days," Tony said. "But right now, you and I need to do some bonding. I've been a terrible boyfriend, leaving you all alone to navigate the wide world of porn all by yourself." He threw an arm around Steve's shoulders. "I'm going to give you the benefit of my expertise."
"No, that's okay," Steve said quickly. "I shouldn't be reading any more-"
"Oh, absolutely. No more terrible fan fictions. You need the real thing."
Steve's eyes widened and he looked around furtively. "Here? Right now?" he asked in a whisper.
"No, no, no. Of course not. Up the stairs, third door on the right. Come on, let's go." He shoved Steve in the direction of the stairway.
Considering how twitchy Steve was, Tony settled for a quick blowjob. It wasn't how he envisioned their first time, but he would make it up to Steve later. At least Steve seemed to have enjoyed himself. Tony wasn't a sex god, by any means, but bless Steve for saying so.
He looked at Steve contemplatively. "Banana, pickle, hot dog buns."
Steve just smiled hazily and patted his head. "Whatever you want, Tony. I'm sorry you didn't get a sandwich."
"I'll be damned," Tony said. "You're cured."
