※oh god,§ steve groans, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes because he knows exactly where this is going. he can imagine exactly how he＊d react to a statement like that.

※yep,§ seven says. ※an hour later and coulson has managed to hustle the guy who used to be the mayor into the tower, natasha has got her hands on a pair of rings that fit damn near perfect, and clint is insisting he gets to be best man and waving a bunch of flowers around. tony glares at me throughout the whole thing, and then after he just says ＆i don＊t do divorce, i＊d be a walking clich谷, so suck it up rogers.＊§

steve starts to laugh, because really, what else is he supposed to do? ※still in the suit?§ he asks.

※still in the suit,§ seven nods. ※clint tried to pin a veil to the helmet and tony nearly decked him. bruce wore it instead.§

steve just laughs harder, because the mental image is not only bizarre and terrifying butpletely hilarious, and it would be so like him and tony to end up married out of sheer bull-headedness. he thinks his laughter is erring on the side of hysterical, but he thinks it＊s perfectly understandable. after a few long moments the laughter fades, and he rubs vigorously at his face with his hands.

※did it work?§ he finally asks, dragging his fingers down over his cheekbones, pressing his fingertips hard to his mouth. ※did you stop fighting?§

seven just looks at him. ※what do you think?§

steve breathes out, looking up at the sky again, thinking about what shield had said regarding seven＊s marriage and the aversion of the war that appears to have scarred some universes. ※i think you stopped the serious kind of fighting,§ he says.

※it＊s like you think arguments over bagels and whose turn it is to fill in mission reports isn＊t serious,§ seven deadpans, and despite the strange twist of some unknown emotion in his gut, steve can＊t help but laugh again.

※it probably seems crazy,§ seven says, and that＊s not the only word steve would use but he lets it slide. ※but it works. for both of us. for everyone, really.§

steve feels the familiar ache of grief and want twisting painfully. he＊s lost everyone before, and god, he doesn＊t want to lose this bunch of misfits that he＊s been thrown in with this time around. he can＊t. though most of it undoubtedly is, it＊s not even just about tony; he misses all of them fiercely and unwaveringly.

※you don＊t look too traumatised,§ seven remarks with an arched brow.

steve blows out a breath, reading between the lines and knowing what seven is trying to say. ※i＊m glad you were happy,§ he says sincerely. ※but that doesn＊t mean the same for me.§

seven just looks at him for a moment, before turning his face back up towards the sun, and doesn＊t say anything.

※here.§

tony jumps at the sound of natasha＊s voice just behind him, cursing and rubbing his chest with one hand, the other locked around the arm of the cafeteria chair. he unclenches his fingers, heart thudding painfully against the arc reactor.

※how is it even possible for you to sneak up in those on this floor?§ he snaps, and then registers what she＊s holding out towards him, his anger vanishing. without a word, he reaches out and taking the bottle of macallans from her, turning it over in his hand and rubbing his thumb against the label.

※the last one?§ he says, mouth twisting contemplatively and ignoring the lump in his throat. he remembers steve sitting at the kitchen counter, seven empty bottles in front of him, the eighth in tony＊s hand as he poured out yet another measure. ＆tony, no,＊ he＊d protested half-heartedly, though he＊d looked amused and had drank without an objection, only the same wince and heavy exhale. tony had been laughing by that point out of sheer disbelief, both impressed and a little awed. seven bottles and the only indication that steve＊d consumed his own damn bodyweight in alcohol was a slight pink flush to his cheeks, though whether from the booze or amusement, tony hadn＊t been able to tell.

he just remembers being secretly pleased beyond measure that steve had been willing to go along with it. in the beginning, steve hadn＊t been at all open to humouring tony; it was still pretty hit and miss depending on his mood and exactly what tony was after.

※the last one,§ natasha confirms, and slides into the chair opposite him, leaning back and breathing out deeply.

※thought you would be more of a vodka girl,§ he says.

※she is,§ another voice calls, and tony looks up to see clint walking over, three tumblers grasped between the fingers of one hand and a metal champagne bucket in the other. ※but this,§ he begins, pushing tony＊s half-finished meal aside with his elbow, ※was up for grabs and free booze always tastes better.§ he sets the glas