Bucky and Sam don't mean to start flirting with their best friend's ex. But Tony is wearing those itty bitty shorts and THE crop top (the one he swears he didn't steal from Nat— whatever—he looks good, so everybody wins). And the terrible tragedy is that Steve is trying to win his boy back. Bucky, Sam... They don't want him to stop his, er, efforts. They even encourage him like the good friends they are. Except—
"Hey fellas," Tony chirps, bending over the couch to make grabby hands at the iced tea Nat's handing around. "Hot, isn't it?"
"You keep that up, sweetie, it's gonna get hotter," Sam replies, his eyes fixed on the red and gold tattoo over Tony's spine.
The genius laughs, takes a sip of his drink and flutters his lashes.
"Keep what up?"
"Those clothes? They're a sin, dollface." Bucky feels amazing at the smile he gets. "No man can resist."
It's instinct. Nothing else. Sam and Bucky always flirt with people. People who're pretty. People—
Yeah, alright. They only flirt with Tony these days. But in their defense: he is gorgeous. A brat. Except he could be so goddamn generous it would get him killed one day. He takes care of those he loves. Remembers birthdays and even if his gift giving needs... guidance? He still tries so hard to make his loved ones happy. He's a genius. His mind creates miracles out of scrap. And the way he laughs—
"Oh, shit," Sam and Bucky both mutter, looking horrified.
•••
"Steve, we need to talk!"
Steve looks up from his drawing pad. Bucky tries not to wince when he sees another outline of Tony's eyes.
"Okay? Who's we?"
"We—me, you and-" He pulls Sam away from the door. "Him."
Steve nods, saves his progress and then puts down his newest addiction on the table.
"What's wrong? Is it Sarah? She said she won't sell the boat-"
"No, not about the boat."
"Okay... Then?"
Sam inhales deeply, exhales. He smiles and claps Bucky on the back.
"You go first, Brooklyn!"
"No, you."
"No. You."
"How about I go first," Natasha speaks from the kitchen. All three of them jump. Then look at each other in alarm.
"How long have you been in my house," Steve asks, barely keeping from lunging across the table to snatch his phone back to safety. Not that it'll stop her from taking it.
"An hour. I'm out of sugar, sugar."
"Ugh." "Stop." "Please, never do that."
"Whatever." She flips her hair, then takes a sip of that organic juice Steve is obsessed with.
"Sam, Bucky and Steve. You're all in love with Tony. Tony is in love with all of you. And we're all sick of the pining, so do something about it already. My baby is deprived of the love he deserves."
"Wait-what? Your what?"
"Baby. Tony. Mine."
"I'm so confused."
She pats Bucky's cheek with the bottle then walks out of the door, leaving three dumbstruck boys in her wake.
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why is it so hard to write things when other people are talking?
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not now kitten, daddy's about to have a mental breakdown from seeing the prices at the grocery store
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I love Matilda because it's a story about a child who sees injustice around her and gets mad about it and questions why things aren't fair, and instead of the ending being that she learns how the world works and that life isn't fair, she catapults one of the adults who abused her out of a building with her mind
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my partner doesn’t use pet names nearly as much as i do, which is very funny because i will crack my gay little knuckles and say some shit like “good morning my sun and moon, my loveliest boy, my baby my sweetheart my darling dearest” and he will reply “hello adrian”
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