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Painted with Aggression

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Barnes and Wilson are at it again: arguing over what boils down to absolutely nothing.

Steve—Rogers—is, as always, trying to stop them from murdering each other. “I just don’t understand why you guys are always at each others’ throats,” he is saying as he attempts to apologize to the rest of the office floor for his friends’ lack of professionalism.

Everyone has just stopped what they were doing to watch the show. If Tony knew that this was one of those days, he would’ve bought popcorn for everyone.

Rogers doesn’t seem to realize that the employees are enjoying this. He sees Tony come in and pleads with his eyes for Tony to step in.

Tony half-shrugs and Rogers glares a little.

“You don’t have to understand, Stevie; you just gotta accept it,” says Barnes.

“Guys,” Rogers growls. Damn. “Boss is in,” he tries, nodding in Tony’s direction. “Could you try and not get the three of us fired?”

Tony, because he is a dick, shrugs again and chimes in. “Oh no, please, keep going. Your fights are the highlight of my day,” apart from seeing Steve, he doesn’t add.

Rogers seems to grit his teeth at that and grinds out, “I think what Mr. Stark is trying to say is that you guys scream at each other so much that he has actually looked up from his phone to notice it.”

Ouch. That stings a little. Okay, so maybe he hasn’t been as attentive lately but Pepper has been heaping so much paperwork on his table that he can’t even see over the pile.

"It’s because you’re so small," Steve had said, when Tony told him that.

"C’mon, Steve. We can’t have table sex if the table is full of million-dollar contracts,” he had replied. And damn, what Tony would give to see that blush 24/7.

Wilson has now taken to telling Steve to "back off" which Barnes isn’t taking so well.

“Oh, and who the hell are you to boss him around, huh?” Barnes exclaims.

Steve sighs, “Thanks, Buck, but I can handle myse—”

“I practically helped raise this boy,” Barnes continues. “I’m the only one who gets to tell him what to do.”


And since Tony cannot keep his huge fucking mouth shut, he adds, “Oh, and me too.”

Steve blushes so hard that he almost blends in with the red (and gold) advertisement poster behind him. “Tony…” he manages to wheeze out.

“Uh…” Tony is speechless for 2 seconds, which, surprisingly, is not his record time. (Rhodey has been keeping count. The bar is set at around 15 seconds.) “‘Cause you know,” he reasons. “I’m his boss.”

Pretty much all the employees on the floor have an eyebrow raised. Wilson is failing to hold his laughter and Barnes fucking snorts.

“Yeah,” Wilson says. “Like we all didn’t know you two were banging.” Really, if Tony actually cared, then he’d fire Wilson in this very moment, even if the comment is directed more towards Steve than himself.

“WHAT?!” Steve squawks, indignant. Tony just smirks.

“Um, it’s kinda obvious,” he explains. “You guys are practically up each other’s asses with how much time you spend together.”

Steve frowns a little in thought which, once he’s composed himself from laughing (bastard), Barnes takes as an opportunity to defend Steve’s honor. “Knock it off, man.”

“Hey, I was just telling him the truth.”

Sarcastically, Barnes says, “Yeah, don’t sugarcoat it; it’s not unkind at all.”

“Right, and you know all about kindness, do you?”

“Actually yeah. Not that it’s any of your fucking business.”

“For god’s sake!” Wilson shouts. “You were gonna turn Boss’s hair pink just last week.”

Tony balks. “Wait, what?” he asks but everyone ignores him.

“But I didn’t,” he argues. “And anyway, that was just going to some April Fools fun. April Fools is always forgivable. But you’re not very familiar with fun.”

“Wow. So I’m the one with a stick up his ass?” Wilson gestures to the room. “Bucky Barnes, people! King of fun, apparently, even though he always looks like the life has been drained outta him.”

“That’s James to you. Only my friends call me Bucky.”

“Oh, suck my dick, Barnes.”

There’s a pause, a little longer than the one earlier, but not by much.

Then Barnes says seriously, “Okay.”

And everyone (except Tony, because he knew this was coming and he bet on it; bye-bye to Steve’s dignity and hello to Steve blushing through a strip tease) is taken aback and starts whispering to each other.

“What?” Wilson chokes. Nobody’s paying much attention anymore, too busy murmuring among themselves. Steve looks like he’s about to pass out.

“I said, ‘okay’, Wilson. You gone deaf or somethin’?”

“Uhh…” Wilson mumbles unintelligibly. “Please excuse us, everyone,” he announces.

Tony contemplates the pros and cons of being a stricter boss because the two of them quite obviously just left to fuck in one of the janitor closets, when Tony, their employer, is right there.

Steve is slowly walking towards the trash can in the corner of the room so Tony approaches him. “I’m fine,” he tells Tony as he watches his two best friends walk away. “I might throw up at the unfortunately graphic mental image of them having sex. But, sure, I’m fine.”

“Hmm,” Tony hums. “You sure?”

Steve looks at him and nods. “Yeah.”

“Speaking of sex,” he drawls. His smile is sly and he knows it. “You owe me a strip tease and a lap dance.” He wonders if he should take Steve to dinner tonight, then come back to the Tower, to the penthouse and—

“Oh god. I do, don’t I? I can’t believe you were right about them.”

Tony’s grin grows wider. “Mhmm. I’m always right.”

"I don't know why we made that bet."

"We were maybe, definitely drunk."

"Yeah..." Steve cocks his head. “You busy?” Steve’s voice drips Brooklyn when he thinks about sex.

“No, not right now.”

“Then, what’re you waiting for, Boss?” Steve beams at him. “Lead the way.”