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Code Name: Grapevine

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They were eating lunch at the same time, and Steve was just staring into space. It was only the two of them, so every attempt Natasha made at conversation felt like it was hitting a vibranium shield.

“I looked over the report. It should only take us two hours, tops. We could even wait until Wednesday.”

“Uh-huh,” Steve said.

“I’m bringing the new equipment; do you need to borrow anything?”

“Yeah,” Steve - well, ‘replied’ wasn’t quite the right word.

Natasha tilted her head, eyes drifting lazily. “Do you like dressing up as a ballerina?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Yes. Absolutely.”

Natasha smiled into her cereal. “Alright. I’ll bite. Why do you look so spaced out, Rogers?”

“Hmm,” Steve murmured. “Yeah, maybe.”

She clapped her hands in front of his face.

Steve jumped. “Huh? What?”

“What’s up with you today?” Natasha’s eyes flickered narrow for a second while she studied him. “Oh my god. Did you get some last night?”

Steve’s eyes shot up at her in panic. “Uh,” he said, “No?”

“You are, without a doubt, the worst liar on the planet,” she replied. “Come on - who’s the lucky lady? Or man,” she said, considering.

Steve looked away, cheeks looking a little warm. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. So it was Sharon?”

“What? No - look, nobody-“

“You know, Rogers,” she interrupted, “I’m just going to keep listing people we know until your face gives it away.”

Steve stared at her, calculating, then dropped his eyes and sighed. “Alright,” he said. “Fine. You win.” He paused. “I, uh…well…Tony and I may have…fooled around a little last night.”

Natasha didn’t bother to stop her mouth from dropping open. “You did not.

“Apparently we did,” Steve said quietly, staring back into space.

Natasha snapped her fingers. “Focus, Rogers. I want all the gory details.”

“There’s…really not much to tell.”

“Horseshit. How did that happen?”

“I…” Steve sighed. “He had a few beers. We were hanging out. We started wrestling.”

“Classic,” Natasha said, nodding. “Classic. Nothing says ‘I’m totally straight but I want your cock’ more than wrestling.”

Steve’s mouth faltered. “Er…anyway, he had me pinned - I guess I was…distracted…”

“I’ll bet. Go on.”

“And then he…uh…well…”

“Took out his cock?”

Steve blinked at her in horror.

“Took out your cock?” She corrected herself.

“Kissed me,” Steve corrected adamantly. “And. That’s all, really. We just sort of…kissed.”

“And that’s all? That is so not all. Look at that little smile you’re trying to hide.”

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try. So - did you make out, or did you make out?

“Uh,” Steve said again. “What’s the difference?”

“Well, did you go back to his bedroom?”


“That’s a yes, then. And did you…?”

Steve just looked at her.

She rolled her eyes. “You know. Did you…” she looped her finger and forefinger, and had hardly touched her index finger to them when Steve jumped.

“What?” He looked horrified. “No! No, of course not. We just…we…”

Natasha waited with a shake of her head. “You just…what? Jerked each other off?”


“I’m going to take the color your face just turned as a ‘yes’.”

Steve rested his face on his arm. “Can we not talk about this?”

“You are so adorable. You look so pleased with yourself, you know that?”

“Really?” he mumbled. “And here I thought I looked mortified.”

“Yeah, that too. Could you try turning any redder?”

“Please tell me nobody’s looking at me.”

“Relax. There’s nobody around to see.” She settled her elbows on the table, her face on her hands. “Sooo. You’re an item?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know, honestly.” He raised his head and shook it, face straight. “I don’t know. But I…well, I liked it.” He rubbed his temples. “Don’t tell anybody about this? I haven’t figured it out myself, yet. God knows I haven’t discussed it with him.”

“Did you sleep in his bed?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Was he there when you woke up?”

“Uh. Yes?”

Natasha whistled slowly. “I don’t think you even need to have this discussion. He’s definitely going to fuck you.”

If Steve had been drinking anything, it would have shot out of his nose, mouth, and ears at that. “Natasha!”

“Sorry. You’re definitely going to fuck him. Or both? Both can work well.”

“I - I don’t…” he held up his hands. “Just stop. I don’t even - I haven’t thought about - I’m not going to think about…”

“Who was on top?”

“I’m leaving,” Steve insisted.

“Come on. You’re more curious about this than I am. I’m not asking if he was swearing or groaning or panting your name, or if you wrapped your legs around each other, or if you ended up dripping with sweat. I’m just inquiring as to whether - when you were biting each other’s necks and, you know, furiously beating each other’s man-meat in delirium - he was on top of you, or you were on top of him?”

Steve stared at the wall like he was playing dead.

“You can’t stand up right now, can you.”


“I hit the nail on the head with that description, right?”

“Shut up.”

“Thought so. All I’m asking is, at the end - when you were refilling your lungs then kissing for thirty seconds straight - was your cum running back down onto you, or was his cum running back down on to him?”

“I was on top,” Steve said, sharply. “And for the love of god, stop doing that.”

“There’s a good boy. And don’t worry - once you’ve fucked a few times, you might stop getting erections at the table.”

Steve closed his eyes and pinched his brow. “Leave,” he said, in a tone that brokered no argument, “Before I can move again.”

Natasha smirked. “Okay,” she said quietly. “You two boys have lots of fun, now. Be safe.”

“Breathe a word of this and we’re no longer friends,” Steve said coolly.

She mimed turning a key at the corner of her lips.

She didn’t mime throwing it away.




"Really, don't worry about it." Steve tried to keep kissing him. "They're just trying to mess with our heads."

“Fuck this. I’m not ashamed of us. I’m not ashamed of you. They want to know what we do in the privacy of our own quarters? They can have it.”

Steve kissed his jaw. “You look so pissed right now,” he murmured. “Is it bad that I like it?”

Tony grabbed his wrist and dragged him out into the hall.




Tony and Steve, hot and heavy on the couch, was the first thing Clint saw.

“Woah,” he said. “Okay, Stark, thanks for putting me off my breakfast - you can clean this up.”

He upended his cereal bowl onto the floor.

“I notice you don’t sound surprised,” Tony said between kisses. “Not been talking about us behind our backs, have you, Barton?”

“Well, I sure will now,” he announced.

Tony slid his hands onto Steve’s ass. “Yeah? Well you just be my guest.”




“Oh. Guys. Come on, now. I want no part of this.”

Tony moaned gently into Steve’s mouth, and Steve hummed with a slight, lustful frown.

“Seriously. I just came here to get a snack. What - are you trying to make me angry? I’m afraid I’m a bit too liberal for that.”

“Error 303,” Tony interrupted him. “If you are viewing this pop-up, you have been approached by Natasha Romanov in the past week and asked ‘oh my gosh, you have to hear this, do you want to hear this?’, and you have responded in the affirmative. Well, enjoy your fucking close-up. There’s no opting out of this subscription.”

Bruce made a face. “I’m feeling the regret. Well-played.”

“You might want to get going,” Tony warned him. “Unless you want to see some other pop-ups..?”

“What the hell has she gotten us into,” Bruce sighed, turning obediently to leave.




“You can’t do that on the sofa, Stark,” Clint grumbled. “It’s obscene.”

“Look who’s talking,” Steve said. “Chew your food and swallow it, Barton.”

Tony, meanwhile, flipped him off and went back to kissing Steve deeply. "We're fully-clothed, Hawkbutt. Besides,” he added, “My tower, my rules. And you guys wanted all the sordid little details. What - not so interesting now you’ve got it in HD?”

“Nyeh, not so nyeh now we’ve nyeh,” Clint whined, throwing an olive at them. “Knock it off.”

“Why?” He licked at Steve’s collarbone. “We turning you on?”




Tony was straddling Steve’s lap. It was a special occasion for the act - Barton trying to watch something on TV with Natasha - but it wasn’t hard to pull out all the stops by now, kissing thickly and languidly, muttering quietly and dirtily to each other.

Steve had his hands quite gladly on Tony’s butt, and after something Tony said, he gave a low laugh and then spanked him.

Clint set down his bowl of popcorn with a hardened, no-nonsense determination. “Yeah,” he said, suddenly leering. “Yeah, you spank that ass. You spank it good and hard.”

Steve froze, but Tony placed one hand on top of his and muttered something in his ear, and then they kissed again.

“Yeah, squeeze it. Squeeze it just like that. Now grind on him, Tony, nice and dirty.”

Steve made a discomfited noise, but Tony obliged.

“God, that’s so good. I bet you’re so hard right now. I bet you want to just take it out right now and have at it.”

Tony reached for Steve’s flies, and Steve swatted him away; instead, Tony landed his hands on Steve’s face and kept kissing him determinedly.

“Yeah, Steve, I know you want it. You can fuck him. You can fuck him right here in your lap. You fuck that cherry ass.”

They pulled away from each other.

This was the deciding move, going by the way they were looking at each other.

Steve swallowed. “Alright, Barton.” He lifted Tony over his shoulder easily and made to leave. “You win.”

Clint raised his arms to the heavens. “Finally. Victory is mine.”

“Actually,” Tony said to Steve, voice fading as they marched off. “Let’s head upstairs…”