Pushing back from the work station to avoid any further injury, Tony crossed his arms over his chest and glanced upward, as if that’s where Steve’s voice was coming from. He couldn’t help but narrow his eyes skeptically. “Getting coffee sometime is what people say when they have no desire or intention to see you again,” he said, unable to help himself. It wasn’t self-sabotage, just genuine inability to keep his mouth shut. He followed it up quickly with a: “Let me check my schedule… I can move some things around. When were you thinking?”

This was surreal. Steve Rogers had called to ask him out. Many a teenager would be salivating over the thought, he mused, before tapping a few commands into virtual keyboard to double check that Romanoff and Barton weren’t lurking in the halls between himself and Rogers.

Or holding him at gun point forcing him to call. He’d put neither passed them.