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hobbitingTitle: I’m not drunk. I’m just intoxicated by you.
Fandom: Marvel's Avengers
Pairing: Tony Stark/Steve Rogers
Word Count: 905
Rating: G
Summary: Tony and Clint trade bad pick-up lines and Steve gets caught in the middle.
Author's notes: Written for the "pick-up line" square on my Cotton Candy bingo card. All bad pick-up lines are courtesy of a Google search. Also available on the AO3.
Watching Tony and Clint flirt was one of the more painful things Steve had ever seen (and that counted portions of World War II). Any time the two of them were in the same room and sometimes even when they weren’t, they were always flirting. They flirted over breakfast. They flirted during Avengers meetings. Hell, they even flirted during battles over the comms. If Steve had to listen to them flirt for much longer, he wasn’t going to be responsible for his actions. He was almost to the point where he was going to lock them in a room together until they finally did something about all the flirting before Steve’s (rather ridiculous) crush on Tony finally drove him mad.
It wasn’t like the two of them even used good lines on each other either. Steve imagined that would be easier to stomach. No, it was stupid things like when Clint would enter a room and Tony would yell across the open space, “Hey Barton! Do you have a mirror in your pocket? Because I can totally see myself in your pants.” Or when Tony would finally drag himself into the dining room to eat breakfast with them in the morning and Clint would slide into the chair next to him with concern on his face as he asked Tony, “What’s wrong? You’re looking a little tired and worn out. Clearly what you need is some Vitamin Me.” (That line was still stupid, even if it had made Tony’s face light up and a genuine smile linger afterwards.)
Steve sat in one of the arm chairs in the communal living room, sketching the New York skyline through the window when Clint sauntered in. He inwardly groaned when the other man made himself at home on the couch, flicking through the mind-numbing trash that Tony called “daytime TV” before finally settling on a show with a small red-haired woman wearing judge’s robes and yelling at people. If Clint was here that meant Tony wasn’t far behind and Steve really didn’t want to sit through another Flirt Fest.
Sure enough, Tony wandered in only minutes later. He stopped to look at the TV before he continuing into the room. “Judge Judy?” He asked. “I thought Coulson was the only one around here with horrible taste in TV. Clearly I was wrong.”
“Screw you, Stark,” Clint remarked without taking his eyes off the terrifying little woman.
“Maybe later, darling. I may not be Fred Flintstone but I bet I can make your bed rock,” Tony replied before sprawling across the length of the couch, pillowing his head on Clint’s thigh. “I seem to have lost my teddy bear, Barton, and I miss it. Can I hold you instead?” If Steve hadn’t been mid-sketch, he would have picked up and left with no second thoughts.
Clint looked down at the older man. “Is it hot in here? Or is it just you?”
“Probably just me,” Tony replied, false modesty dripping from his words. “I have to ask. Are your legs tired? Because you’ve been running through my mind all day.”
Clint snorted. “I wish you were a pony carousel outside Wal-mart so I could ride you all day for a quarter.”
Tony’s eyes sparkled but Steve couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to get out of there, sketch be damn. He stood abruptly, scooting the chair loudly across the floor in his haste. Both men on the couch turned to look at him curiously as he hurried towards the exit.
“Where you going, Steve?” Tony called as Clint asked how he could leave before Judge Judy was over.
“Away,” Steve answered shortly. “I wish you two would just go out and put the rest of us out of our misery so we could stand to be in the same room with you again.”
Clint laughed a loud belly laugh as Tony sputtered, falling off the couch as he hurried to follow Steve. “Steve, wait! Wait!”
Steve paused outside the door to the living room. “What do you want, Tony?” he asked. “I’m sorry for being rude about it but, seriously, watching you two flirt is getting really old.”
“You think I’m interested in Barton?” Tony’s eyebrows almost reached his hairline for a minute. “Oh, hell no. He bet me he could come up with cheesier pick-up lines than me. That’s all. I’ve got my eye on someone else.”
Steve snorted. “I don’t know about cheesy but those were awful, no doubt.” He carefully left the last part of that statement alone. He really didn’t want to hear about someone else right then.
“Mine were still better than Barton’s, though,” Tony said. “If you’ll go to dinner with me tonight, I can try some of my better pick-up lines on you. What do you say, gorgeous?”
Steve frowned at Tony. “What?”
“Oh, did I forget to mention? That was the other part of the bet. Barton bet me that all this flirting would make you jealous. Personally, I didn’t think I had a shot but apparently it worked so never let it be said I don’t know how to take a hint. This is me asking you on a date, in case you needed it clearer.”
“Well then, that sounds nice,” Steve conceded. “I do have one question though.” He paused, as if considering his words carefully. “Are those space pants, Tony? Because your ass is out of this world.”
Fandom: Marvel's Avengers
Pairing: Tony Stark/Steve Rogers
Word Count: 905
Rating: G
Summary: Tony and Clint trade bad pick-up lines and Steve gets caught in the middle.
Author's notes: Written for the "pick-up line" square on my Cotton Candy bingo card. All bad pick-up lines are courtesy of a Google search. Also available on the AO3.
Watching Tony and Clint flirt was one of the more painful things Steve had ever seen (and that counted portions of World War II). Any time the two of them were in the same room and sometimes even when they weren’t, they were always flirting. They flirted over breakfast. They flirted during Avengers meetings. Hell, they even flirted during battles over the comms. If Steve had to listen to them flirt for much longer, he wasn’t going to be responsible for his actions. He was almost to the point where he was going to lock them in a room together until they finally did something about all the flirting before Steve’s (rather ridiculous) crush on Tony finally drove him mad.
It wasn’t like the two of them even used good lines on each other either. Steve imagined that would be easier to stomach. No, it was stupid things like when Clint would enter a room and Tony would yell across the open space, “Hey Barton! Do you have a mirror in your pocket? Because I can totally see myself in your pants.” Or when Tony would finally drag himself into the dining room to eat breakfast with them in the morning and Clint would slide into the chair next to him with concern on his face as he asked Tony, “What’s wrong? You’re looking a little tired and worn out. Clearly what you need is some Vitamin Me.” (That line was still stupid, even if it had made Tony’s face light up and a genuine smile linger afterwards.)
Steve sat in one of the arm chairs in the communal living room, sketching the New York skyline through the window when Clint sauntered in. He inwardly groaned when the other man made himself at home on the couch, flicking through the mind-numbing trash that Tony called “daytime TV” before finally settling on a show with a small red-haired woman wearing judge’s robes and yelling at people. If Clint was here that meant Tony wasn’t far behind and Steve really didn’t want to sit through another Flirt Fest.
Sure enough, Tony wandered in only minutes later. He stopped to look at the TV before he continuing into the room. “Judge Judy?” He asked. “I thought Coulson was the only one around here with horrible taste in TV. Clearly I was wrong.”
“Screw you, Stark,” Clint remarked without taking his eyes off the terrifying little woman.
“Maybe later, darling. I may not be Fred Flintstone but I bet I can make your bed rock,” Tony replied before sprawling across the length of the couch, pillowing his head on Clint’s thigh. “I seem to have lost my teddy bear, Barton, and I miss it. Can I hold you instead?” If Steve hadn’t been mid-sketch, he would have picked up and left with no second thoughts.
Clint looked down at the older man. “Is it hot in here? Or is it just you?”
“Probably just me,” Tony replied, false modesty dripping from his words. “I have to ask. Are your legs tired? Because you’ve been running through my mind all day.”
Clint snorted. “I wish you were a pony carousel outside Wal-mart so I could ride you all day for a quarter.”
Tony’s eyes sparkled but Steve couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to get out of there, sketch be damn. He stood abruptly, scooting the chair loudly across the floor in his haste. Both men on the couch turned to look at him curiously as he hurried towards the exit.
“Where you going, Steve?” Tony called as Clint asked how he could leave before Judge Judy was over.
“Away,” Steve answered shortly. “I wish you two would just go out and put the rest of us out of our misery so we could stand to be in the same room with you again.”
Clint laughed a loud belly laugh as Tony sputtered, falling off the couch as he hurried to follow Steve. “Steve, wait! Wait!”
Steve paused outside the door to the living room. “What do you want, Tony?” he asked. “I’m sorry for being rude about it but, seriously, watching you two flirt is getting really old.”
“You think I’m interested in Barton?” Tony’s eyebrows almost reached his hairline for a minute. “Oh, hell no. He bet me he could come up with cheesier pick-up lines than me. That’s all. I’ve got my eye on someone else.”
Steve snorted. “I don’t know about cheesy but those were awful, no doubt.” He carefully left the last part of that statement alone. He really didn’t want to hear about someone else right then.
“Mine were still better than Barton’s, though,” Tony said. “If you’ll go to dinner with me tonight, I can try some of my better pick-up lines on you. What do you say, gorgeous?”
Steve frowned at Tony. “What?”
“Oh, did I forget to mention? That was the other part of the bet. Barton bet me that all this flirting would make you jealous. Personally, I didn’t think I had a shot but apparently it worked so never let it be said I don’t know how to take a hint. This is me asking you on a date, in case you needed it clearer.”
“Well then, that sounds nice,” Steve conceded. “I do have one question though.” He paused, as if considering his words carefully. “Are those space pants, Tony? Because your ass is out of this world.”
