That’s What Friends Are For
Set in a world where all the Avengers live happily together in Avengers Tower. Everyone gets along, no friendship-threatening arguments (Civil War who?). Pre-slash stevtony, the Avengers are good friends.
This will (hopefully) have multiple parts :)
Part 1:
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Spring in New York city is slowly setting in. The weather is getting warmer, the trees are coming into leaf, the flowers are blooming, and the birds are tweeting and chirping like their lives depend on it, so loud that you can hear it in spite of the noisy traffic in the busy city.
Couples are going on walks and picnics in Central Park, children are eating ice cream, and people are wearing shorts and t-shirts, even though it is still slightly too chilly whenever the light breeze catches on.
Even the Avengers love the transition from the cold and frosty winter, to the sunny and joyful spring-time.
All things considered, spring is lovely, and most of if not the entire team would argue that it is the best time of the year to spend in New York.
Well, that excludes Steve. Steve was not having any of it.
“ehhTIISH’oo! Ugh.”
Because, for Steve, spring-time meant allergy-season. And Steve absolutely hated allergy-season.
Growing up, Steve probably had even possible seasonal allergy, and he had hoped they’d faded away as he got the serum. But just like Dr. Erskine had said. The serum amplifies everything that’s inside. Good becomes great. Bad becomes worse.
Steve hadn’t considered that would also apply to his allergies. At least his asthma isn’t as bad, which he doesn’t quite understand why, but definitely doesn’t complain about. The allergies, though? Well, they don’t appear as frequent as they used to, at least not for longer time periods, but when do hit him. Oh God, that’s a whole different story.
“uh-huhTSCHusshh! SNFF! h’UHh… uhhISCHIEW!”
He sneezes off to the side, his hair falling into his eyes as his waist snaps in half. Rubbing at his itchy eyes, he lets out a stuffy sigh and leans back in his chair.
He’s waiting for the rest of the team to turn up for the mandatory post-operation debrief and, as usual, Steve’s the first to show. Somehow, even when voluntarily coordinating search and rescue, he always manages to escape medical and get ready to close up for the day. Maybe it’s because he hates procrastinating, or maybe he’s just too exhausted and beat up to keep his head clear for long. Today, it’s definitely the latter.
He wants nothing more than to just go to bed, but he has an important work meeting afterwards. As if fighting off an army of robotic aliens wasn’t enough for one day.
“SnffSNF! huhh- hutschhuh! he-uhh…” He brings up an arm, aiming the sneeze at his elbow, keeping it up as he feels another one coming on, but it’s stuck. Great, he thinks to himself and lets out a congested grunt.
“You hangin’ in there, Stevie?”
Looking up with bleary eyes, Steve sees Bucky emerging from the door. He’s leaning against the door frame, his hair still damp from sweat and kept in a bun, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.
“uhh… yeeh- yeah, I’m fine. snf! Just wanna get this over with.”
“That makes two of us,” Bucky moves to sit down next to Steve, wincing slightly when he rolls his shoulder.
“Your arm okay?” Steve frowns a little, concern clear on his face. He knows not to worry too much, but he can’t help it.
“It’ll be okay,” Bucky shrugs. “Stark’s going to take a look at it after debrief. If he and the rest of them could speed the fuck up and actually get here,” he quips with a grin.
Steve huffs a laugh and gives a nod. “Yeah. Should be here soon enough, I hope. I have to be somewhere after this.”
Bucky cocks an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, in bed after a long shower. That’s where you should be. You look like shit.”
“Gee, thanks, Buck. Always so supportive,” Steve jokes, lightly nudging Bucky good shoulder. “Wish I could be going to bed, though. Have a meeting, can’t miss it.”
“Y’know, this is the worst time for you. You literally spent hours outside today. Pollen count’s ridiculous. You’re going to be a mess — a bigger mess — by tonight.”
“I know,” Steve sighs heavily and harshly scrubs at his face. Just hearing someone say the word pollen makes his face prickle and his nose twitch uncontrollably. Steve sniffles quickly, and Bucky notices it immediately and quickly grabs a tissue from the side table and hands it to Steve, who thankfully accepts it.
“Bless ya, punk,” Bucky says preemptively, smiling sympathetically.
Steve gives him a displeased glare before burying his face in the soft material. “tiisshh! ish! heIIiishh! Guhh.” He sniffles thickly, and groans annoyedly. He’s gotten to the point where the sneezes do nothing apart from making him even more sniffly. Ridding the itch, it definitely does not.
“Those didn’t sound helpful at all,” Bucky murmurs and gives Steve’s shoulder a squeeze.
Steve just shakes his head and worries at his nose with the tissue. “They weren’t.”
Bucky glances over his shoulder, hoping that the rest of the team will enter soon enough, but it seems unlikely. He grunts as he stands and walks towards the door. “I’ll go tell them to get their shit together and hurry.”
Steve doesn’t get to object before Bucky has left the room, and, somehow, everyone is gathered in the room less than five minutes later. (How Bucky did that is a mystery to Steve. He’ll have to ask him how to do that later.)
***
About halfway through the debrief, Steve is ready to die. He’s kept fairly composed so far; frequent sniffles and teary eyes, but no sneezing yet. They are just about to discuss the damage and decide how to clean up to city after the numerous destructions when Steve’s nose starts tickling.
“Casualties?” he hears someone ask, but he’s too busy trying to fight off the itch, rubbing his nostrils with his knuckles, to perceive who asked.
“Still unclear… 300 confirmed so far. Could be more,” Fury answers seriously. “We’ll hopefully have exact numbers once the city’s cleared.”
Steve tries to focus, he really does, but the tickle is growing stronger and his breath starts catching in small, desperate gasps. He turns to stifle a quick double into his shoulder, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to him.
“hehNGXTt! hii’YINgch!”
Bucky could recognize that withheld sound anywhere, but he knows Steve wouldn’t want everyone’s eyes staring at him so he refrains from blessing him. Natasha, who everyone knows is extremely observant, also seems to notice as she eyes Steve when his body jerks slightly. She catches Bucky’s eyes as they’re both watch their miserable friend, and the look they share doesn’t need any words.
Steve doesn’t even get a chance to breathe before the tingling sensation comes back, more powerful than before, and Steve knows it’s a loosing battle.
“huh- HhhehISHhoo!”
As expected, the group turns to look at him and mumbles a chorus of blessings.
“Bless ya,” he hears Bucky mumble quietly, and Clint offers a gesundheit, which seems to be his standard reaction to anyone who sneezes. Natasha discretely reaches for a tissue, presses it into his hands under the table and nods demandingly at it.
As he subtly wipes his nose with it, it seems to bring the tickle back and Steve cups his face and lets the sneezes slip out.
“h’tSCHHoo! Hih! Eh’hrushhoo!”
He sighs defeatedly and nods his thanks when a few people bless him.
Tony, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet, narrows his eyes at Steve. He’s spent the better half of the debrief doing anything but pay attention to what Fury was saying, impatiently waiting for the meeting to finish. Noticing Steve’s bleary eyes and his pink nostrils, Tony figures Steve wants Fury to shut up even more than he does, which in itself in an accomplishment.
As if Tony looking at him makes Steve’s nose twitch, Steve’s eyes flutter and his nose scrunches up.
“tishh! ehhIIiishh’oo! heihhUushiew!” The fit is ticklish, makes his throat scratchy and Steve can feel the congestion pressing behind his eyes and sinuses.
Tony is now on the verge of snapping, telling Fury to shut it and round up so Steve doesn’t have to suffer any more than he already is. The guy seriously needs something to help him breathe. Tony wonders if Claritin is strong enough or if he’s going to have to spend the entire night figuring out some kind of super-soldier-allergy-shot, because he just couldn’t take another look at Steve literally sneezing his brains out. So he figures he has to stop Fury before Steve’s going to die on them. Well, dying might be an exaggeration, but judging from Steve’s expression it’s not too far off. (If anyone asks, though, it’s because Steve’s constant sniffling is annoying as hell, but in reality, Tony can’t help but feel sympathetic for his friend. Nobody can know that. Tony doesn’t do sympathy.)
He considers making JARVIS send out some sort of emergency alarm to stop the meeting, but he figures getting on Fury’s wrong side is a bad call, so he bites tongue, and impressively so. He is Tony Stark, after all, and he’s not exactly known for keeping his mouth shut. Especially when he should. But this time, he does. He makes a mental note to tell that to Pepper. She would be so proud.
***
When the debrief is finally over, Steve is half asleep, his head resting on his hand. The ten minutes of nearly constant sniffling and sneezing in the middle of the meeting exhausted him deeply, even his nose seemed too tired to itch anymore.
He doesn’t even recall the debrief ending before Bucky nudges him and he jerks awake, sitting up straight. People are shuffling out of the room as he blinks the confusion away.
Nat and Bucky are already standing up when he’s back to consciousness, both smiling solicitously at him.
“You really should be going to bed, punk,” Bucky frowns a little and Steve responds with a shrug.
“I might actually agree with Barnes on this one. You look wiped out. I think you’ve earned some well deserved rest after today, soldier,” Natasha winks kindly.
“Yeah, well, you tell Fury that,” Steve sighs. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, though. I’ll be going straight to sleep when I’m finished.”
Natasha playfully ruffles his hair, Bucky gives him an affectionate pat on the arm, and with that, the two of them flees the room.
Steve still hasn’t raised himself from the chair. His body feels heavy and drained, and for once, he might actually consider procrastinate going to the meeting. Pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezes his eyes shut, he takes another moment to mentally prepare dealing with Fury, once again.
“You getting attached to the chair there, Rudolph?” Tony teases with a perky smile as he walks towards Steve, who is surprised by the sudden voice. He hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t alone.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess so,” he chuckles lightly. “I have to be somewhere I definitely don’t want to be.”
“Meeting?”
Steve nods despairingly and Tony clicks his tongue.
“That sucks… You sound like someone who needs some time to relax. And to find some medicine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this. I mean, God, you’re pathetic,” Tony jokes and the corners of Steve’s mouth quirk upwards.
“You probably haven’t. I can’t even remember the laahhst time I-I snf! felt like thiiihs. Huhh- huEEIishh’oo!” Steve says through hitchy breaths and rushes to finish the sentence before catching a quick single in the tissue he still has in his hand.
“Bless you.”
“Tha- thaahuhISHH! Sorry, thanks,” he snuffled into the crumpled piece of fabric. “h’ESHhihh! Oh, Lord have mercy on me.”
Tony hands him a fresh tissue and Steve gratefully accepts it, giving a quick, ineffective blow. By this point, he’s basically unable to breathe through his nose, but he doesn’t want to gross Tony out any more than he already is.
Tony, however, doesn’t seem to mind. “Damn, Rogers, you’re on a roll, huh? Look. I can probably pull a few strings, get you out of whatever torture they’re sending you into.”
“Are you- really?”
“Sure,” Tony shrugs.
“That- that would actually be really nice,” Steve admits shyly. He’s normally not one to ask for help, but Lord knows he needs it right now. “I owe you one.”
“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it,” Tony waves a hand. “You’ll just have to make me breakfast for the next three months, get me coffee whenever I want, babysit Clint-“
Steve laughs and elbows him.
“No, really. It’s nothing, Cap,” he says as he stands up and offers Steve a hand, which the soldier grabs and pulls himself to his feet. They exit the room together walking towards the elevator.
“Do you normally sneeze this much, by the way? I mean, you’ve probably sneezed, like, 30 times in he last hour.”
“huUShh’oo! Uhh, I-I don’t think so. I gue-. Tony?” Steve interrupts himself as Tony stopped in his tracks.
“That was so weird. Did you just sneeze on command. Like, literally just as I said the word?”
“I think there’s just a pretty good chance of me sneezing at any second, Tony.” He chuckles and shakes his head fondly.
Tony follows up and the two of them walk in silence until they reach the elevator.
“So. You go take a shower, and I’ll see to get you some meds after talking to Fury… If I’m not there in an hour or less, send out a search team, just in case Fury actually kills me,” Tony jokes.
Steve smiles tiredly at Tony as he presses the ‘up’ button on the elevator. “Thanks again, Tony. I really appreciate it.”
***
“Stark!”
Tony sighs at the sound of the recognizable voice and turns on his heels. He had to face it sooner or later.
“Nick! Always a pleasure,” Tony smiles overly wide at Fury, who rolls his eyes over someone using his first name, but ultimately decides to ignore it. It’s been a long day already, and Fury is not in the mood to deal with Tony and his sharp-witted tongue right now.
“Where’s Rogers?”
“Rogers? You mean Steve? Oh, um about that… He’s in his room,” Tony says innocently.
“In his—? I hope he’s aware of the fact that we’re having a meeting in less than five minutes?” Fury cocked an eyebrow.
“Yeah, so… He’s not going to be there. Sorry. He’s having some… trouble. You know, you saw him at debrief, I don’t think he’d be able to—“
“God damnit, Rogers,” Fury mutters under his breath, then scowls. “I’ll let this one slide. But only this once. It’s been a long day, anyways.”
Huh. That went a lot smoother than Tony had anticipated. Fury actually wasn’t completely heartless.
“I’ll be sure to pass on the message. Good talk, Director,” Tony claps Fury on the shoulder and is immediately out. As he walks, he gives his body a shake. He seriously hated biting his tongue, acting nice and actively trying to avoid pissing anyone off, and even a five sentence conversation with Fury was a stretch, but he thinks he did okay, all things considered. He makes another mental note to tell that to Pepper as well. She’d be even prouder.
***
“Knock knock.” Tony calls. “Cap?”
“In heeh-here! Hur’ESHH!”
Strolling towards the bedroom where the response came from, Tony tries to balance all the remedies he’d picked up on his way. The door in ajar, and Tony pushes it open with his shoulder, both hands and arms occupied. As soon as he enters the room, he suddenly drops about half of the things he’d been carrying on the floor.
In front of him stands Steve. His hair is damp from the shower and falling into his eyes. He’s wearing a pair of oversized joggers that would look ridiculous if they were worn by anyone but Steve. His cheeks are flushed pink from the heat from the shower and his nose a similar shade but probably for entirely different reason. That, and he’s not wearing a shirt.
He’s not wearing a shirt, Tony repeats in his mind. Damn. Tony has seen Steve shirtless before, but this is usually after a battle when Steve’s covered in blood and sweat, and definitely not coming straight out of a warm shower with glowing and clean skin.
And then he realizes that he’d just dropped everything on the floor and bends down to start picking the things up. “Would it have hurt to put on a shirt?” Tony mumbles lowly.
“Sorry, I was just getting dressed,” Steve smiles sheepishly as he helps Tony fetch the things. “You really went to town with the remedies, huh?”
Tony shrugs. “You know me. Why choose one when you can have them all?”
“Because it’s unnecessary?” Steve teases. “Seriously, though, the tissues had been just fine.”
“Ugh, are you always this unappreciative? God, how rude of you, Rogers.”
Steve laughs and shakes his head fondly. “That’s not what I meant. I really do appreciate it, but you shouldn’t have gone out of your way to all get this.”
“Aaand he’s back to being good, old, righteous Captain America… should have known. I didn’t, by the way. I ran into Nat and Barnes. They were on their way to provide you with all of these different supplies and medicines. If I’m being honest, which, obviously, I always am, I don’t even know what half of these things are.”
“Probably won’t work on me anyways. Medicine usually doesn’t with my metabolism,” Steve says as he reaches for the box of tissues Tony had dropped.
“Hm… You seem better, though?” Tony asks and Steve nods in agreement.
“Yeah, I think the shower did me good. I was probably covered in whatever is bothering m-me, huh— huhhISH’iew! Maybe not entirely, though” Steve comments after a sudden, strong sneeze crept up on him.
With a wry smile, Tony stands up and puts the stuff on Steve’s bedside table. He turns on the night light as Steve grabs the shirt he had laid out on the bed and pulls it over his head.
“So.”
“So,” Steve echoes.
“I’ll get going, and you, big guy, are heading straight to sleep,” Tony commands, eyeing the perfectly made bed, because of course Steve’s bed would be flawlessly made. Everything just has to be in order when it comes to Steve. He really is a hundred years old, Tony thinks.
Steve chuckles and obeys, his bare feet making soft and quiet noises as he pads across the hard wood floor.
“Yessir,” Steve says, shuffling to get under the duvet. “Oh, and thanks again, Tony.”
“That’s what friends are for. See you tomorrow, Winghead,” Tony smiles and shuts off the ceiling light. The bedside lamp illuminates Steve’s face with golden beams. His expression is tired and gentle and thankful.
“See you tomorrow, Shellhead,” Steve returns.
And with that, Tony closes the door to Steve’s bedroom. He stays outside for a few seconds until the weak light that shines through the key hole goes out and smiles satisfied.
***
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