Chapter Text
From Clint: Alright. I don’t want to be that guy or anything but…
From Sam: Man there is such an easy fix for that? If you don’t want to be “that guy” don’t say what I’m pretty sure I know you’re about to say.
From Bruce: I’d like to get in early on this conversation and agree with Sam. Please, Clint, don’t be that guy. Don’t start ridiculous things. Yesterday my phone ran non stop with text messages because you people were debating strawberry or cherry licorice.
From Clint: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU PEOPLE
From Sam: Nope. Nope, Clint you don’t get to do that. Brucie-bear just leave the group chat.
From Bruce: I’ve been trying! For months! I think Tony disabled that feature on my phone!
From Tony: I resent the implication that I’d tamper with your stuff.
From Natasha: Really?
From Clint: Really?
From Sam: REALLY?
From Tony: You are all so rude, my god. Anyway, Clint, be that guy. What were you going to say?
From Clint: Have you guys seen Steve’s ass lately??
From Tony: Okay, I’ll be honest, that’s…that’s not what I expected you to say. At all. Literally ever.
From Sam: This is why I told him not to be that guy.
From Sam: He has a point though, from a purely objective standpoint, that All- American booty is looking fairly bodacious lately.
From Bruce: I’m going to put my phone on silent and bow out of this conversation before it gets gross, k? Bye.
From Natasha: Don’t be such a sourpuss, Bruce. But also, I can confirm that Steve did three hundred squats yesterday and then non stop lunges all the way around the track. He is definitely working those glutes.
From Clint: THREE HUNDRED SQUATS?! That makes my butt cheeks hurt just thinking about it!
From Bucky: Oh wonderful, looks we’re group chatting again today. Hey everyone.
From Sam: What up, Frosty? Welcome to the conversation. We’re talking about Cap’s ass.
From Bucky: Yeah, thanks, I’m aware.
From Tony: Hell yeah we’re talking about Caps’ ass and dare I say, it’s about time? Cause there ain’t no jiggle in that wiggle.
From Natasha: Nah it’s all hello in that jello.
From Tony: Somebody holla for some hayyyyyy in that swayyyyyy
From Natasha: Shout out for all the junk in his trunk
From Tony: You know he’s workin’ that honky tonk badonkadonk
From Bucky: TONY!
From Tony: Aw, I love your Winter-booty too, baby. Don’t worry.
From Sam: ANYWAY! Clint was there a real reason behind your observation? Or are you just bored so we’re discussing anatomy?
From Clint: Shockingly enough, there is a legit reason behind the topic. I was trying to say that Steve’s been working them butt exercises like crazy for the last two or three weeks and I was wondering if anyone else had picked up on why that is.
From Sam: Maybe he just likes working out
From Tony: Maybe his combat suit was getting a little loose
From Natasha: He fell asleep watching a special on Beyonce and Destiny’s Child the other night, maybe he just wants to be bootylicious.
From Bucky: I turned that on as a joke! He kept watching it??
From Clint: Wait really? No one else knows? Am I the only one who knows what’s going on?
From Clint: YES I FINALLY KNOW THINGS BEFORE THE GROUP
From Clint: THEY DON’T CALL ME HAWKEYE FOR NOTHING. I SEE EVERYTHING BITCHES!
From Natasha: Focus, my love, why is Steve working out so much?
From Clint: Because the last time Thor was in town, he and Captain Spangles spent the night together and when Thor left the next morning, he told Steve. ‘You feel smaller than normal in my arms, are you losing weight?’ and ever since then Steve’s been beefing it up.
From Clint: AND Thor promised he’d be back in time for Tony’s ridiculous Christmas hoopla which means any day now, ol Thunder Thighs should be making an appearance so Cap is getting that booty READY y’know’what’m’sayin’?
From Tony: Ignoring the comment about my ridiculous hooplas— you said he’s only been working squats and lunges? Those are all butt exercises? Why’s he only working on beefing up his–
From Tony: You know what? Comment withdrawn, I figured it out.
From Natasha: Some time’s you’re so cute Tony, good Christ.
From Sam: So the whole point of this conversation is to talk about how Steve is beefing up his butt for when Thor comes back? Why are we talking about this? I was already sketchy about Butt talk, now I’m definitely sketched out by this text.
From Clint: Well I dunno Falcon, we used to talk about whether Bucky and Tony were the one getting dicked down, how is talking about Steve’s ass any different? Stop bitching and join in the group bonding why don’t you?
From Sam: Oh our group text gossip is now group bonding huh? Is that what we call it?
From Bucky: For the record, it’s Tony.
From Tony: Yep, it’s me. I’m getting the dicking down. Usually.
From Bucky: Usually.
From Bruce: You know what, I’m changing my phone number and none of you guys are getting it.
From Clint: That’s fair.
From Natasha : I completely understand that reasoning.
From Sam : We’ll miss ya, Bruce
*****************
Steve was in the kitchen when he heard the boom of the Bifrost as it burned a pattern onto the balcony of the Avengers Tower, quickly and predictably followed by the furious squawking of Tony shouting over Thor’s big ass needing to land on the driveway instead of consistently destroying his balcony because for fucks sake this was the third time he’d had to replace it!
“Cease, Anthony.” Ah yes, there it was, that ridiculous rumble of Thor’s voice. It never failed to make Steve shiver, a feeling like someone had poured cold water down his shirt collar or maybe like a rather large hand had landed north of his knee and was traveling upwards with clear intent, because that always made him shiver too.
Either way, Thor spoke, Steve shivered, and that was all there was to it.
“Cease, Anthony!” Thor was laughing now, most likely fending off a futile slap attack from Tony as he walked into the common area. “Sergeant Barnes! Come collect your love before he hurts himself!”
“Come on, baby.” Bucky sounded as patient as he always did with Tony. “You wanted new flooring for your balcony anyway, come on. I’ll go shopping with you and pick out something good and then we’ll go to that ice cream store you like.”
“You burn a Bifrost onto my balcony one more time–!” Tony’s voice got louder as Bucky carried him away from the common area and towards the kitchen. “I swear I’ll call Heimdall and get him to revoke your traveling privileges! I swear!”
“You know you sound crazy yelling things like that, baby.” Bucky pushed open the doors of the kitchen, Tony slung over his shoulder. “You can’t just scream things at a god.”
“The hell I can’t.” Tony grumbled. “And by the way? Telling me you’re going to take me shopping and then feed me ice cream? I’m not some prissy socialite who can be calmed by–”
Bucky bent down and shut Tony up with a long kiss, and when they parted Tony was grinning again. “Alright. Not so angry at Thor anymore.”
“There we go.” Bucky murmured, and Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes at how soft Bucky was for his boyfriend.
“Heya Stevie.” Bucky said then, looking Steve over with a smirk. “Did you hear Thor was back?”
“I heard.” Steve knew his voice cracked, he knew it did, but damn it he couldn’t help it. Squeaky voices were expected when someone was outright panicking.
And Steve? Steve was outright panicking.
He had known that Thor was going to be at the Tower for the holidays of course, they had talked about it the last time the-demi god had been on Earth, but Steve thought he would have more time before they actually saw each other because as it turned out? He was not prepared for this at all.
It wasn’t that Steve didn’t like Thor— no that wasn’t the problem. He liked him lots. Lots. Maybe too much, but that was a discussion for another time.
The problem was that whatever the hookup/friends with benefits thing they had going on only worked because the hookups were few and far between, and now that Thor was suddenly in the Tower and going to be here for a while…. Well now it wouldn’t work anymore.
It wasn’t an issue to hook up after missions if it only happened once every couple months.
It didn’t really matter that all Thor had to do was look at Steve just right, and he was dropping to his knees and opening his mouth obediently.
It wasn’t really a problem that the last time Thor had been in town, they had spent almost eleven hours in his bedroom and Steve couldn’t sit down for days after.
They weren’t dating, they weren’t in love, they weren’t anything, and whatever they were was a once in a while thing so Steve didn’t have to put any thought into it.
He didn’t have to address whatever it was that made him blush when Thor smiled, or had him wishing they could just hold hands and take walks together, and do normal couple-y stuff like fall asleep during movie nights and wear each other’s clothing.
He didn’t have to address the shiver that ran through him when Thor spoke, or the way he was wishing what they had was less about sex and more about the cuddling and the being sweet.
Nope, he didn’t have to think about any of that because every time he even started to think about it, Thor left, or the team was called out for a mission or something else happened to keep his mind off that sort of thing.
And it worked.
But now? Now Thor was going to be at the Tower for at least a week and probably closer to two weeks, eating and hanging out and being big in all the spaces where Steve lived and ate and slept.
They would be breathing the same air and sitting at the same kitchen table and doing game night and movie night for weeks without having a break from each other.
And that right there was a problem, because Steve didn’t know if he could do all that without blurting out something about his nonexistentfeelings, or asking for clarification of what they were doing together, or doing something stupid like begging Thor to stay instead of going back to his own room after they were done for the night, which meant of course, things would get awkward and ruined and terrible.
Yep. It was a problem.
“Uh, Cap?” Tony tossed a spoon at him, snorting a laugh when it bounced off the unresponsive blonde’s face. “You still with us? Sort of floated off for a minute or ten.”
“I’m fine?” Damn his voice for squeaking and damn Bucky for laughing over it.
“Stop that.” Tony was still over Bucky’s shoulder, so he smacked his boyfriend on the ass and asked, “You’re nervous about seeing Thor, Steve?”
“N-No?” He stammered, and when Bucky laughed harder, Steve briefly considered ripping that metal arm off and beating him with it. “Fine. A little. How did you know?”
“The same way we know everything.”
“Group text?”
“You know it.” For all of Tony’s shenanigans, he really was very sweet and when Steve groaned in frustration, he wriggled out of Bucky’s arms and crossed the kitchen to pat Steve on the shoulder.
“Hey don’t sweat it.” He said soothingly. “If you do anything stupid around our favorite Hammer-Man or think you’re getting feelings or whatever, just blame it on the season.”
“The season?” Steve asked blankly. “What does the season have to do with anything?”
“The season has everything to do with everything!” Tony pointed up above their heads to the sprig of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. “It’s Christmas! Kiss the shit out of him or snuggle up or whatever and then just blame it on the mistletoe if he asks about it. It’s not love, it’s just mistletoe. Just the holidays. No worries.”
“Not love, just mistletoe.” Steve repeated, and nodded shortly. “Okay. I can blame things on the season.”
“It’s a romantic time of year.” Tony agreed. “People do all sorts of shit this time of year that they regret at 12:01 January first. Blame it on the mistletoe and the fact that I’ve been lacing every thing with alcohol for two weeks now. It’s totally fine.”
“Uh, thanks Tony.” He smiled awkwardly. “That is surprisingly good advice even if it’s a little weird.”
“Ain’t no thang, Cap.” Tony jumped back into Bucky’s arms. “By the way your butt looks great. Hoorah for squats and lunges and all that.”
“Hoorah for squats.” Steve muttered to himself as they left. “Blame it on the season. It’s not love, it’s—“
Thor boomed a laugh from the other room, probably over something Clint said, and Steve grabbed at the counter so hard it cracked.
There was no way he’d survive until Christmas.