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Never Have I Ever

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"That was beautiful," Tony told his team. "A bruised calf was our only causality and we took them all out. We should go celebrate."

“Do you propose a feast?” Thor asked.

“No, I propose drunkedness and partying,” Tony told him.

Thor grinned. “A feast, then.”

"I was thinking barhopping and a limo rather than a banquet, but..."

Natasha shook her head. "We can't go out in public like this all the time."

"Why not? People love it. We're good for business. I'm a businessman, trust me, I know these things."

"I'm suddenly questioning your motivation in letting us live in your Tower," Bruce joked.

"Bruce, I'm hurt. You really think I can't sell a place on my own cred?"

"Associating with a Stark is bad policy, as a spy."

"What, they think you'll be biased for me? Because I'm so lovable."


Tony smiled. He immediately tried turning into a smirk but they all saw through it.

"Hmph. You're not the first to worry that being seen in public with me will ruin your reputation."

“How about you find another way to get drunk?” Natasha suggested.

Steve expected her and Bruce to drift off to reasonable endeavors now, but they all seemed to be drifting to the living room now and he didn’t know any better than to go with them.

“Good idea,” Tony said “JARVIS, generate a drinking game I haven’t played in a while.”

“Never Have I Ever,” JARVIS replied promptly.

Bruce groaned, but Clint enthused “YES!” with a fist-pump and a leap into the air. Natasha momentarily tensed.

“No,” Steve said, just by the reactions of the others.

“Yes!” Tony and Clint disagreed.

Clint then left Tony to do what Tony Stark did best: turn insanity into reality.

“You’ll love it, Steve. You can’t get drunk, we learn more about each other, we bond as a team, and you get more of what wasn’t on our resume.”

None of which sounded like what a drinking game was.

“What is this drinking game?” Thor asked.

“One person says something they’ve never done. Whoever has done that drinks. That’s it.”

Steve looked around at them with a frown, thinking of near-death experiences and second-hand accounts of missions in remote locations. “That’s doesn’t sound very interesting. There’s not much any of us has not done.”

Tony chuckled. “You just made it so much more interesting.”

“I will play,” Thor graciously conceded.

Bruce sighed at Tony's playful grin. "I'll play as long as I don't have to drink," he offered.

Tony then bargained with Steve. “Team-building activity. Trust. No drunkedness.”

Natasha's lips quirked up slightly, and she nodded.

“Oh, we won’t get drunk, then?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, how will that work? Steve and Thor won’t get drunk on the stuff from your bar,” Clint reminded Tony.

“They’ll…uh…drink…Everclear. Two shots for every one shot we take.” Tony said “the rest of us will drink-”

“Whiskey,” Clint said.

“Tea?” Bruce asked hopefully.

“If we do whiskey, we don't take full shots," Natasha advised.

“Hm, actually, all good ideas. Do half-shots or whatever if you need to, don't get to the point where we're all cleaning up puke in the morning. I’ll drink whiskey too.”

The Avengers went to the Commons TV room as Tony and Clint retrieved drinks.

“What’s Everclear?” Steve asked Natasha.

She considered her response. Always a bad sign. “It’s legal in this state.”

Steve sighed. Well, if it were something dangerous, Natasha would warn him away from it.

“Alright, who starts?” Tony demanded as he distributed bottles and shot glasses. “Just say ‘never have I ever’. Steve you should start, you’re our leader.”

“I am not leading this game,” he muttered, but under their expectant, amused eyes, he finally said “Never have I ever passed out drunk…” a bad start. Everyone gets a pained look on his or her face “in one country and woken up in another one."

Bruce laughs when everyone but Thor drinks.

“Weak,” Tony snickered “Were you aiming that at me?”

Steve was distressed. “Really? Even the assassins?”

“We had days off,” Clint explains.

“We had a celebration on a jet from France once,” Natasha told him.

“Et tu Bruce-eh?” Tony digs.

“Road trip from Tijuana with a designated driver,” Bruce says.

“Weak,” Tony repeats.

“Fine, you’re next,” Steve challenged.

“I’ll take that. Hmm, what have you done? Never have I ever been stranded in the woods.”

Bruce and Thor drink. Tony raised an eyebrow at Steve incredulously.

“You know, it’s lucky I have tea,” Bruce notes “two in a row is a bad precedent for the rest of the game.

“Define ‘stranded’,” Natasha asks.

“No communication with someone able to drive or fly you away, no vehicles to get you out of the wilderness, and no plans in place for you to be picked up by someone.”

Natasha, Clint, and Steve raise their drinks to their lips. Tony smirks at Steve. Mission accomplished. His smirk widens when Steve nearly chokes on the vile clear liquid. Natasha, sitting on Steve’s other side, pats him on the back.

“I have to drink another one?” he asks Tony.

“Yes, those are the rules."

"I thought the rules were 'drink what you want to drink.'"

"But see, we're drinking to get drunk. You're drinking as a handicap for the normal people.”

"Isn't that discrimination against super soldiers?" Clint asks, because he likes screwing Tony over.

"It's not discrimination because this rule was stipulated in a contract. Verbal contract, yes, but really, that's what counts here," Tony said confidently.

Nobody questions his confidence, so Steve swallows another shot. He’s determined to not have to drink another one. At least Bruce would be kind to them.

“Never have I ever played Russian Roulette,” Bruce says.

“What’s Russian Roulette, for our purposes?” Tony asks.

Clint takes a shot without waiting for a reply, and no one is surprised. Dismayed, definitely. But not surprised.

“For our purposes, any game of luck that involves potentially shooting yourself on purpose.”

Steve wrinkles his nose at the bottle of Everclear.

“There are no guns in Asgard,” Thor mournfully tells them.

“You’re not missing much. This is disgusting,” Steve tells him.

The third and fourth shots tasted even more horrible. But a light, pleasantly fuzzy sensation was occurring.

Tony threw down another shot down and looked at Steve in surprise.

“Captain America has played Russian Roulette? And the token Russian has never played Russian Roulette. There is some serious lack of patriotism in this room.”

“I don’t take chances,” Natasha tells them idly.

“I didn’t think they were stupid enough to use a loaded gun,” Steve says. "What about you?"

"Ballistics experiments in a poorly funded MIT weapons design club." He paused "Or ballsy hazing."

"How are you and the phrase 'poorly funded' even related?" Clint asked.

"Teenage rebellion."

"You really would have shot yourself?" Steve asked.

He sounds fairly horrified, so Tony tries for a soothing tone. Pepper said his soothing tone sounded like a conman going in for the kill, but she knew him too well. "Of course not, Cap. Let's keep drinking."

“My turn,” Clint said excitedly before Steve could continue the discussion. (Clint was a bastard, but he was a bastard after Tony's own heart, and his best ally against the forces of Proper Protocols.) There was a wicked grin on his face. Natasha glanced at it and started pouring herself a drink. “Never have I ever missed a shot.”

A groan goes through the room. They all drink.

“You would go for that on the first round,” Tony mutters.

"If you didn't fully expect that-" Natasha began languidly.

"He's stealthy sometimes. He's a spy."

"Stark, he's more predictable than you are."

"How dare you. I am unprecedented!"

Nobody dignified that with a response, so Tony took it as a victory and they turned their attention to Thor. Steve hoped Thor at least would have something ridiculously improbable because, surely, an ancient and immortal demigod would have done anything that they would have done.

“Never have I ever failed to please a lover,” Thor declares. Because how could he not.

A small, furtive moment when they look around self-consciously.

“You cannot lie in a drinking game,” Thor reminds them, triumphant smile on his face.

And Steve’s face is hot as he pours himself another shot, but when he looks up he sees that everyone else has a shot ready to drink too.

“Captain America?” Tony is astounded.

“Tony Stark?” Steve echoes.

“Natasha, please.” Bruce says with a roll of his eyes.

“Clint Barton?” Clint says. Natasha punches him.

“Story-time,” Tony says.

“No,” Steve says, and his face is still hot. Probably blushing. The alcohol has no chance of working, but the serum had not cured him of occasional humiliation.

“You don’t have to go first,” Tony bargains.

“I’ll go first,” Natasha suggests.

The room goes silent and they unintentionally stare at her. She doesn’t blush, but she momentarily glances down in embarrassment.

“He wanted me to be, shall we say, more adventurous. I…wasn’t, and I told him so. So if you drank because you don’t think you went far enough with your partner, just think about whether you really asked what would make both of you happy.”

After a thoughtful and respectful silence, Clint opens his mouth to speak, but Tony overrides him with “No need to explain, Barton. It’s self-evident.”

“Fuck you,” Barton laughs.

They turn to Bruce, who simply waves his heart monitor in the air.

Tony pats him on the shoulder and says to his team “Well, it was completely not my fault, but my reputation preceded me and she thought I would make her see stars, and I didn’t.”

They turn to Steve and how he has no excuse because Natasha really put herself out there.

“I…” he swallows, feeling too many eyes on him. Steve takes a breath and remembers that these are his teammates. “It was my first time,” he mutters. He’s sure that his JARVIS’s sensors can pick up the heat radiating from his cheeks. “She was...uh…disappointed.”

Tony rubs his shoulder blade too. “So Natasha, Steve, and I are all look too hot for our own good,” he mournfully concludes.

Clint snorted and the Avengers exhale in exasperation, and the tension is broken.

“You are an ass,” Clint says, laughingly, because the embarrassment is gone in an instant.

“Yes, and it is my turn,” Natasha says. Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “Never have I ever been turned down.”

Another groan. Tony, Steve, Thor, and Clint drink. And it’s official. Forget team bonding, Steve resents them all. They have all made him drink. Every single turn. He resents them all. Tony had had the stupidest- Steve pauses because he realizes that Tony drank every turn too. He snickers.

“More tale-telling?” Thor suggests.

“He said I wasn’t ready,” Clint says with a wrinkled nose.

“Pepper,” Tony miserably explains.

“Before I was Captain America, I was small, frail Steve Rogers,” Steve tells them.

Tony giggles to himself. They look at him, amused.

“What? It’s not my fault you’re all so unoriginal. I've drunk every turn."

“So have I!” Steve says.

"So have I!" Clint realizes

“Yes, but you won’t be the ones singing in a few rounds,” Natasha tells them.

They look back at Tony and they all laugh, even Steve, because the game was Tony’s idea and he’s the one who’s getting trashed first.

“No, I am a pro. I can hold my drink. I am not drunk. Just…get on with the next round,” Tony instructs, sitting up straighter and glaring at Steve. Steve grins back. He decides to have pity on his team.

“Uh…never have I ever gotten lost in the wilderness.”

Tony mutters about Boy Scouts as he takes another shot. Bruce and Natasha drink too.

“I was young,” Natasha tells them.

“I’m perpetually lost as the Hulk,” Bruce confesses.

“Afghanistan,” Tony says shortly. Then, “Never have I ever had sex in the woods.”

Steve put his shot glass down in victory. “Not this turn!” The team claps for him and he grins. Then they get back to business. Natasha, Clint, and Thor drink.

“And it was an occasion I will never forget,” Clint says.

"Aww, Bruce, you're up! Dare you to make yours about sex too." Tony says with an eyebrow wiggle.

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Never have I ever…‘made out’ with someone of the same sex.”

Clint, Natasha, Thor, and Tony all drink.

“Really?” Steve asks, because he has little frame of reference “I thought it was rare for people to be…not straight.”

“Turns out people do non-straight things more freely when they’re not thrown in jail for doing so,” Tony explains.

“Oh. Right,” Steve says to both. “that makes sense.”

“Never have I ever gotten caught having sex,” Clint says with another smirk at Tony.

Steve and Bruce can’t hold back snorts.

Thor drinks immediately, but Tony raises his eyes to the ceiling and then lets himself collapse backwards. “Not fair. Not fair. I am Tony fucking Stark. It’s not my fault they chase me with cameras. I call foul. Barton knew about this before. I am being targeted.”

But if he had had any hope of avoiding a drink, he probably would not have fallen backwards.

Barton knew it. “There are no boundaries in this game. Suck it, Stark.”

Tony sits up again and swallows the shot as his teammates giggle and chuckle, and Bruce hints “Well, when you say ‘fucking’ is your middle name...”

“Destroy him, Thor,” Tony commands.

Thor laughs and looks at Clint speculatively. “Never have I ever…lost my weapon in battle.”

“Thank fucking god,” Tony groans. He slams his shot glass on the table, which makes Steve laugh and ruffle his hair. Tony bats his hand away and lets himself fall backwards again.

Clint and Natasha obligingly drink.

“Some weapons are disposable in battle anyway,” Clint defends himself.

Tony shoots upwards into a sitting position. “Fuck you Barton, the prototypes I give you are fucking priceless.”

“But when I break them, you make better ones. They are so disposable.”

“And speaking of disposables,” Natasha says with a sweet smile. Or maybe she just looks sweet (less dangerous) because she’s tipsy “Never have I ever told someone that I loved them for the first time during sex.”

Tony and Clint burst into laughter.

“Low blow, Tasha,” Clint says in between chortles.

Thor toasts Steve with a full shot-glass. Steve toasts back sullenly. Bruce takes a quiet drink. Then, Tony and Clint stop laughing and Natasha looks at them expectantly, head cocked to the side.

“Don’t look at me, I’ve never…” Clint begins, then stops and turns slowly to Tony.

Tony Stark, who has his shoulders hunched and a full shot-glass in front of him.

“OH!” Clint shouts, and jumps up along with Natasha. She slaps him a high-five and they collapse in laughter in the middle of the circle.

Steve chokes back laughter, if only because everyone else is laughing. He coughs and gets a grip on himself. Love is nothing to be ashamed of.

“Tony St-…Tony Stark…” Clint valiantly tries to speak in between laughter “Tony Stark LOVES-”

“I was young, okay! Young and dumb. She was brilliant and she cared about me for a minute there!”

A breath of relative quiet follows his statement, although admittedly it is in case they hear more to laugh at.

“He didn’t say hot,” Natasha mutters, momentarily stunned. With a last quiet giggle, she sits up. “Oh my god, was she actually special to you? Did you really…you know, love her?”

Tony uncomfortably spins the shot-glass in his palm. “She dumped me. Doesn’t matter.”

“Oh my god,” Natasha says, sounding slightly awed. Definitely on her way to being drunk.

“Oh my god,” Clint agrees.

Tony exhales. “I hate you all. Steve was right, this was a terrible-”

Clint, Natasha, Thor, and Bruce all huddle around Tony and wrap him in a hug. Steve is too slow to join the hug and ends up outside the huddle, but he puts his arms around them anyway.

“Tony, love is nothing to be ashamed of,” Steve says eventually, because it seems important that Tony know.

Tony doesn’t reply, but the others make noises of agreement.

“I can’t breath,” Tony’s muffled voice says after another silent few seconds.

The hug breaks up.

Clint pats Tony on the back. “Also, you told us a story knowing we’d never let it go. You are the bravest man I’ve ever known.”

“There’s a reason Iron Man wears Gryffindor colors. And speaking of brave men, it’s the soldier’s turn.”

“I have never-“

“No, you have to say it,” Tony interrupts.

“Never have I ever called out the wrong name during sex.”

Clint and Tony curse and take shots.

“Really, Tony? That is horrid,” Bruce chastises.

“She had been calling me ‘Anthony’ the entire night,” Tony protests. “It was only fair.”

“What’d she do?” Clint asks.

“She dug her fingernails in and hissed something rude. Yours?”

“She whipped me twice.”

They clink their glasses together.

“I’m just surprised that it’s only happened once to each of you,” Natasha notes dryly.

“This was the most memorable one,” Clint explains.

“I usually don’t call out names during sex. My turn!” Tony calls “Never have I ever slept with someone who didn’t know my name. Revenge is mine.”

“Stark, I thought we were bros. We shot-glass-clinked.”

“I had to get Romanoff, though. Collateral damage. You’re very familiar with it, given the explosive arrows and all.”

Snickers. Clint pouts and throws a shot back, but Natasha smiles as she drinks hers. Steve doesn’t know whether it’s because she’s planning something or because she’s just happy.

“When did this turn from a drinking game into a get-teammates-drunk game?” Steve asks.

“Have you never before played a drinking game?” Thor asks, amused.

“Who cares? We’re winning,” Bruce replies. “Never have I ever had sex on something that was not a bed.”

Everyone but Steve drinks.

“Dullllllll,” Tony complains. “Who hasn’t had sex on the floor? Or against a wall? Or in the shower?”

Steve groans, a hand over his red face. “Tony, shut up.”

“Or on a desk, a couch, a jet, a bank vault, a sauna, the beach, a boat-”

Steve covers Tony’s mouth with his hand. Tony scowls at him and then deliberately licks his hand. Steve tries to snatch his hand away, but Tony follows him, tongue out, and they end up sprawled on the floor with Tony’s tongue on the corner of Steve’s jaw. Steve freezes, but Tony props himself up with his hands on Steve’s shoulder’s (he doesn’t bother to untangle their legs) and says “I win.”

“Win what?” Steve asks, looking up at Tony.

Tony’s lips are of course smirking, but it’s a gentle, fuzzy smirk. Tony is looking at Steve with warmth, without any of the usual distraction. Steve on the other hand is very distracted by Tony’s weight on his body, Tony’s hands on his shoulders, Tony’s scent: whiskey, cologne, and underneath it all the smells of motor oil and smoke.

Natasha’s giggles, high and giddy, breaks Steve out of his embarrassingly complete distraction. “Tony, are you trying to get Steve to drink this round too? Quick, Bruce’s taking the booze.”

Tony flops to the side (off of Steve) and attempts to get his whiskey back, but he’s too late. The bottles are sealed and out of reach unless he were to get up and open the cabinet with the passcode.

“Good,” Steve says to no one. He tries not to think about Natasha’s implication.

Thor laughs.

“Water time,” Bruce says firmly “Hydration. H two oh.”

“Is the game over?” Tony mournfully asks, still facedown on the floor. Steve attempts to hoist him up, but Tony only slumps against him.

“No, but you drink water now instead of liver-grater.”

Bruce sets a gallon of water in the middle of the table and gives each of them smaller water-bottles. Except for Thor, who still has his entire bottle of Everclear along with Steve’s.

“But we’re not even tipsy! This isn’t how you play a drinking game.”

“It’s Clint’s turn, Tony.”

“Never have I ever…wished I were someone else,” Clint says.

Steve and Bruce drink. Tony cocks his head to the side at his water-bottle before carefully measuring out a shot (surprisingly, he doesn’t spill any water) and downing it. He makes a face after.

Steve laughs. “You drink too much.”

“Yeah well, you and Bruce are boring. You’ve never had sex anywhere other than a bed, man.”

Clint interrupts Steve’s snark. “Wait, the great Tony Stark wishes he were me? I knew it.”

“Not you. You suck. I mean someone less famous. Like Bruce Wayne. No one outside of Gotham knows him. Meanwhile I have goddamn Chitauri invading my tower. And footage of me having sex, which my teammates have apparently seen.”

“I wonder, does anyone healthily enjoy fame for its own sake?” Bruce asks, because he’s the only one with philosophy left in him and he’s enjoying the fact.

“Never have I ever been hunted by the CIA,” Thor says.

All of them drink.

“Wait! Wait, that is false!” Tony alerts them. “Thor is an alien god prince brother-of-Loki Avenger who hangs out with Tony Stark, Hawkeye, Black Widow, Bruce Banner, and Captain America. He’s been hunted by the CIA, I promise.”

“He’s ri-ight,” Natasha sing-songs.

“A lie has been- a falsehood has-…I demand justice!” Tony demands.

“It’s okay, we only drank-” Steve starts, but Thor swells up.

“I do not lie!”

“But you said something that’s not true. There will be punishment.” Natasha is way too pleased.

“Thor, I think Tony and Natasha are right,” Bruce says “Even if you don’t know that you said something wrong, the game rules say that you drink double as penalty.”

“Very well. But let it be known that was statement was made in honesty.”

“Of course,” Bruce says.

“Okay, let’s get back to the interesting stuff. Never have I ever given a blowjob,” Natasha says with a smirk.

Tony and Clint both take drinks, and Steve is so surprised that he lets go of Tony and Tony slumps to the other side, where his head hits Bruce’s shoulder.

“Ow,” they both say. “Steeeeve,” Tony complains. Steve pulls Tony back by the back of his collar.

“But why would you give a blowjob? You’re rich and-”

“Steve, Steve,” Tony says, putting an arm around Steve and using that hand to pat him consolingly on the ribs. “You’re looking at blowjobs the wrong way. On…on one hand it’s me giving them all the fun but also…” Tony pauses and turns his head to face Steve with a little smirk and half-lidded eyes. Steve swallows involuntarily. Tony’s smirk widens a tiny bit, and his voice is lower when his lips move again “also, I’m in control. Of him, really, because he can’t lay a hand on me but I’ve got him in my mouth so I decide on the pace, whether to go faster or slower and whether in the end I’ll let him-”

“Stark!” Clint calls. “Mental image not needed.”

Tony takes his gaze off of Steve’s eyes, presumably so he can glare at Clint. Steve lets out the breath he’d been holding. And then he takes a deep breath and lets that out too. He looks around self-consciously while Tony and Clint snark at each other. Natasha’s eyes flash between Tony and Steve in interest, Bruce looks apologetic, and Thor looks amused. Steve silently dares them to say anything, but he’s too sharply aware of Tony’s weight against his side and the arms they each have draped over the other’s shoulders.

The drinking game had been a bad idea.

“Your turn, Steve,” Natasha says, a challenge in her tone.

Steve takes another deep breath. Really, his respiratory system is more efficient than this. “Never have I ever kissed someone and regretted it.”

Everyone drinks.

“I’m bad at impulse control,” Tony feels the need to explain as he stretches his hand out for a bottle of Everclear. Thor makes no effort to move it away, but Tony can’t reach anyway without taking his arm off of Steve, so he leans back and murmurs. “You have great hair. Almost as great as mine. Hair worthy of America.”

“Natasha,” Steve says, definitely not pleading. “I thought you took no chances.”

“Handsome emotionally-moronic badasses are a big presence in my life,” she explains.

“But you’ve never kissed me,” Tony says with a frown.

“No, I haven’t. Small blessings.”

“Never have I ever…JARVIS, help me if I’m wrong here. Never have I ever had sex in a holy god place. Oops, sorry, Thor, your life is holy god places.”

“If by ‘holy god places’ you are referring to structures devoted entirely to religious worship, then the statement you made is correct, sir.”

“There was no offense to forgive,” Thor assures Tony before drinking.

Natasha and Clint also drink. Steve looks on in horror, but they’re paying too much attention to Tony to notice Steve’s face.

“JARVIS. JARVIS, do you believe in god?”

“I do not ‘believe’ anything. I have facts and knowledge which I have been programmed to use in order to formulate responses to your questions.”

“JARVIS, are you god?”

“You have provided no definition for ‘god’, and searches for the definition are inconclusive.”

“Am I god?”

A pause. “You have created conscious beings. By some definitions, you are a god.”

Tony throws his arms up into the air, releasing Steve to do a little seated dance. “I am a god. Thor, buddy, I am holy as thou.”

“You deceive yourself,” Thor argues. “I had temples dedicated to me and feasts thrown in my honor. A day in your cyclical calendar is named after me. I am holier than thou.”

“Ehehe I got him to say it,” Tony says, pleased with himself. He grins goofily at Steve but keeps his hands and his eyes to himself this time.

“At least tell me it was…a back room or something.” And really, Steve’s not asking much. He knows that the SHIELD agents are both good liars. They could easily lie to him.

But Natasha grins and says “The altar. Where people get married. He thought it was symbolic. It was after-hours, though.”

“You make me feel like a good person,” Tony tells her, chuckling.

“What are friends for?”

They clink glasses.

“I thought that was our thing,” Clint complains.

Tony clinks glasses with him too.

“Hit me, Bruce,” Clint says.

“How can you keep track of who’s next?” Tony marvels.

“Never have I ever been hit upon by a senior citizen.”

Everyone but Thor drinks.

“Okay, self-explanatory. We are all hot pieces of ass. And Thor is an ancient immortal god, yada yada. Weak, Bruce. Are you trying to get us to drink water so we sober up?” Tony demands.

“How did you guess? Clint, you’re up.”

“Never have I ever run out of toilet paper.”

Tony bursts into laugher.

“Really, Clint? You are five years old,” Natasha grumbles.

“Wait, that’s a thing that happens?” Tony asks.

Steve, Natasha, and Bruce drink with a collective sigh.

“Oh, man,” Tony says, and falls over laughing. They lazily watch him (minus Clint, who is leaning against Thor and giggling). When Steve’s sure that Tony’s capable of supporting himself, he pulls Tony into a sitting position again. He releases Tony immediately after and ignores Natasha’s knowing look.

Thor then taps a finger on Mjölnir before saying “Never have I ever disobeyed the Director Fury.”

“That’s because he doesn’t give you orders!” Tony complains.

“Regardless. I have never disobeyed him.”

“Not fair.”

But he, Steve, Bruce, and Clint drink. They turn to Natasha.

She primly states “If you know the rules well enough, you don’t ever have to break them.”

“But direct orders-” Steve begins.

“And once you’ve proven you’re competent, you get fewer orders,” she adds.

“Bitch please, I am one of SHIELD’s top agents,” Clint boasts. Natasha smacks him lightly again.

“Never have I ever been pulled off a job for making the situation worse,” Natasha shoots back.

Everyone but Steve has to drink at that.

“Of course, Captain America is perfect,” Tony notes with a grin.

“Tony,” Steve begins

“”I said Cap was perfect, not Steve.” A pause “But you’re pretty damn close too.”

“I’m flattered, drunk-Tony, but-”

“I’m not drunk! I told you, I’m pro at this.”

“Never have I ever drunkedly hit on anyone,” Steve says, and he can’t think what makes him say it. He shuts his mouth and wishes very much that he hadn’t said it.

Tony just raises an eyebrow, serves himself a shot, of Everclear, Steve notices, and Tony should know better, but it’s too late and most of them are looking at Steve, and Tony drinks it and winks at Steve.

Clint tries to muffle a snicker, Natasha bites her lip, and Thor guffaws.

“Can we bring the alcohol back?” Clint petitions “I’m not nearly drunk enough for this.”

Natasha hands him a flask.

“Are you trying to get Tony to stay drunk?” Steve asks. The suspicion and concern over Tony’s welfare overcomes his mortification because Steve is the Avengers team leader and if Tony is too hungover to work tomorrow when they could have prevented him from making bad decisions while drunk, then Steve has failed as team leader and he does not want failure on his conscience.

“I’m not drunk. I’m not even tipsy. I’m just enjoying myself. I haven’t gotten drunk in…since War Machine.”

“Tony, you’re tipsy,” Bruce tells him “I know because of science.”

“No. No because science is always on my side. I’m Tony- I’m Iron Stark.” A pause. “Hey, that should be my new name. Or, or- you guys want to form a band? Natasha, you can sing U+UR HAND.”

“We can talk about this later. But speaking of drunken hits, Tony’s not the only one who has done this. I know this for a fact.”

“This is why you’re my favorite,” Tony sighs. He leans against Bruce because Steve currently makes for an uncomfortable resting place with his elbows out (he is staring at his hands in his lap in embarrassment).

Thor and Clint drink obediently.

“My turn. Never have I ever failed a test,” Tony says. He and Bruce high-five.

“Bullshit,” Clint rages “You’re a truant! You were a party boy dedicated to…to debauchery and- and being an ass! Natasha!”

“You use big words when you’re drunk,” she observes instead of providing backup to his claims.

“You don’t get to graduate Summa Cum Laude from MIT at age 17 without passing every test,” Tony says, radiating smugness from every pore.

Clint drinks morosely, but he drinks flask whiskey when the water bottles are still fully available, so no one feels much pity.

Steve surprises them by taking a drink too.

“Sorry,” he tells them. “I just realized that I had technically failed a test.”

“Technically,” Clint notes. Then he points at Steve accusingly. “Was it a history test taught wrong?”

Steve huffs out a laugh. “I didn’t spend all of my youthful energy being righteous.”

“English and your Brooklyn heritage,” Tony guesses.

Steve narrows his eyes at Tony’s mention of Brooklyn, but he’s trying not to smile, so Tony counts it as a victory. “Watch it, Stark.”

“Was that a hint of Brooklyn I detected in your voice just now? Is it a temper thing? Bruce goes green, you go Brooklyn.”

“Maybe if you leave the comm lines chatter-free on missions from now on, you’ll find out.”

“I will not be silenced. And neither will you. What’s what the test and why did you fail it?”

Steve grimaces. “It was…biology. I failed it because I kept going to Coney Island with Bucky instead of studying.”

Tony shoots into a sitting position and slaps Steve on the shoulder.

“He lived,” Tony says in his best Dr. Frankenstein voice. And his best Dr. Frankenstein voice is of course the best Dr. Frankenstein voice because he actually brings things to life with electricity on a regular basis.

The Avengers cheer.

“Bad boy Cap?” Natasha asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“Knew you had it in you,” Clint says, and he also slaps Steve on the shoulder.

“To our shield brother’s past festivities!” Thor toasts.

Bruce smiles at Steve and rolls his eyes.

“And uh, speaking of festivities. Never have I ever defeated an enemy while fully clothed.”

“Whoa, Bruce. Getting a little aggressive there.”

“I’ve lost the fight of keeping you all sober, so why not?”

“Atta boy,” Tony says.

They all drink.

“Never have I ever…” Clint looks around, considering them all. His eyes fall on Tony, who sticks his tongue out. Then he looks at Steve. “Did you drink water last round?”


“Not allowed. Booze only, unless you can turn into the Hulk.”

“I think it fair,” Thor pronounces.

“You did agree to play this game,” Natasha reminds Steve from where she lays stretched out on the floor.

“Yes,” Tony agrees with a nod. “Break time over, Cap.”

“What the hell, I’ll get them both,” Clint decides. “Never have I ever defeated a villain through monologue directed at me.”

Tony and Steve dutifully fill their shot glasses with their appointed drinks.

“мошенник!” Natasha accuses “I’m a spy. Monologues are my favorite victories. And no one likes snipers, so you’re just shot-“

“On sight, yeah, pun intended,” Clint finishes, just to watch them all groan. He figures that Natasha is too drunk to be a threat right now.

Thor chuckles. “Never have I ever died,"

"So? Everyone but me drinks?" Bruce asks.

"I've technically never been declared dead," Tony hedges.

"Dude," Clint says. He focuses on Tony. "your crises usually involve cardiac arrest. Death is the minimum-"

"Okay, okay."

They all drink. Bruce sighs.

Natasha hums before she says "Never have I ever l annoyed Coulson for the heck of it."

Tony and Clint clink their shot-glasses again.

"And that's why your life expectancies are so much lower than ours," Natasha observes.

"Genetic experimentation, more genetic experimentation, immortal god of Asgard, and Fury's favorite," Tony lists off.

"Yeah, fuck you," Clint says.

She sits up. Smiles deliberately at Clint. Clint leaps away.

"Okay," Steve says before the situation turns violent. “As team leader, I declare this game over.”

"No, no, no, one more round, Steve,” Tony pleads. “Never have I ever used public transportation.”

“Rich jackass,” Clint mutters as they all drink. “Here’s one, Stark. Never have I ever gone into a battlefield dressed in colorful armor.”

“Waxahachie,” Natasha mutters.

Steve, Tony, and Thor assume that she’s singing in another language and proceed with the shot preparations, but Natasha sits up urgently and takes their bottles away.

“Waxahachie! Clint, мошенник, you can’t cheat on Captain America.”

“I’m not. What the hell are you…Oh.”

Tony’s mouth drops open. “What? Please tell me there are pictures.”

“You’re not getting them. I need them for blackmail material.”

“What happened in Waxahachie?” Bruce asks with a smile.

“There’s a Ren Faire. We knew there was going to be an exchange ahead of time, soooo Ren-style body armor.”

Tony guffaws. “The one time you fit right in with your gear.”

“Clint was perfect for that mission. No one batted an eye at all the purple.”

“Coulson must have loved it. Oh, man, was he involved? Were tights involved?”

“We must attend this event at the next opportunity!” Thor suggests “I have been told I would much enjoy it.”

“Yeah, the game is definitely over,” Steve decides.

“I haven’t gotten Romanoff with ‘Never have I ever married’ yet,” Tony complains.

Natasha cocks her head to the side.

“Have you really not?” Clint asks. “I thought you were Vegas-man.”

“Based on post-Vegas screaming matches, it appears that Ms. Potts was forced to bodily tackle him off the altar,” JARVIS reports. “The pen did touch paper, but the Stark Industries legal team managed to convince the jury that the long ‘T’ did not constitute a signature.”

“You were going to get married?” Steve asks. Then blushes as Tony grins at him.

Bruce began gathering up the alcohol again.

“Let me tell you about Vegas.”

The team groans.