Inell's Fanfiction Archive

The general consensus amongst his teammates is that there’s no point in cooking if you can get delivery or eat out. Steve can’t really understand that thinking, even with the rather substantial salary that S.H.I.E.L.D. pays him for doing a lot of nothing. It feels dishonest to accept the money most of the time, but he understands that it’s paying for the risk to their lives that happens whenever they get called in because those are always major incidents. Still, he’s a soldier and that’s par the course of being a soldier. Since Tony doesn’t charge rent and there aren’t many expenses to this odd life he’s leading now, Steve donates a large part of his salary to several charities.

There are a lot of things he’s been getting used to in this modern world, since it’s still hard to remember that it’s a different century, much less so many decades in the future. No rations, no shortages, but there’s still hunger and the poor and homelessness. He’s told Clint about his disappointment in various areas because he’d foolishly hoped that the world would become a better place, especially so many years later, but there’s still poverty and prejudice and discrimination everywhere. Granted, some things have certainly improved, but it’s nowhere near what he’d have expected if asked back in his own time.

The cooking thing is one of the most frustrating, not that he lets the others know. The convenience of having someone else cook is part of this new world, he supposes, but he’s still stuck in memories of scraping by with little money and making the most of what he’s got in the cabinets. So he cooks when he can, and the others gravitate to the kitchen to eat whatever he makes, so maybe the convenience isn’t really a replacement for a good home cooked meal once in awhile. Tonight, he isn’t making something for everyone, though.

“What time is it, JARVIS?” He really does need to get a clock for the kitchen because it’s still odd to rely on a disembodied voice to tell him something so basic.

“Twenty-two minutes since the last time you asked, Captain.”

Steve rolls his eyes because only Tony would program his mechanical voice technology to be sarcastic. “So it’s six fifteen?”

“Six eighteen. Do you wish to be alerted at a certain time, Captain?”

“Seven o’clock. Clint’s supposed to be home around seven.” It’s been the longest weekend. Natasha actually got an assignment from S.H.I.E.L.D. and left Thursday for a few days, but then Thor showed up because Jane was at a conference in some country that hadn’t even existed when Steve was alive before. Thor had ruined his plans to hang out with Clint all weekend without having to share him with Natasha. Instead of spending time with his friend, Steve got stuck on his own while Thor and Clint went camping. He’d been invited, of course, but they were planning to hunt, and he really did hate camping, so he’d declined. He had no idea how bored he’d get being mostly on his own, and he knew he’d go next time. Besides, the images that Clint kept sending him on his phone had him wishing he’d gone this time.

“It will be nice to have Master Clint back home,” JARVIS says. Steve frowns at the ceiling because it almost sounds as if the AI is affectionate.

“You know that Tony doesn’t like you calling him Master Clint,” Steve mutters.

A soft huff of laughter startles him, and he turns to find Bruce leaning against the doorframe. “Evening, Steve.” Bruce smiles as he straightens up and enters the kitchen. He lowers his voice. “You shouldn’t tease JARVIS about his crush. It already makes Tony uneasy. I think he worries that JARVIS is going to leave him for Clint one of these days.”

Steve snorts and runs his fingers through his hair. “It probably doesn’t help that Clint flirts with JARVIS,” he points out with a wry smile. That’s the thing. Clint’s friendly with everyone, even inanimate objects, and Steve isn’t sure if it’s flirting or just his personality. It’s a lot like Bucky, when he thinks about it, but they share several similarities, along with a ton of differences. At the end of the day, he’s decided that he’d rather be the guy that Clint’s himself with than one of the ones who gets the flirty casualness. And it’s becoming more obvious to him every day that JARVIS isn’t the only one with a crush on Clint.

Bruce laughs and shakes his head. It’s a nice sound considering it isn’t one Steve heard often when they first moved in here. “I think it’s better for all of us that Clint doesn’t go away that often anymore. Tony’s been locked up in the lab working on designs for that flying car he’s working on in order to get you to be truly impressed with our technology, and I know he’s not sleeping well because Clint’s the one who usually gets him to sleep. And I can’t remember when I ate last.” His smile is sheepish as he shrugs.

“What flying car?” Steve turns before Bruce can see his smirk because, really, Tony’s too easy sometimes. Besides, another disappointment in this time was no flying cars. He opens the fridge and gets the bowl of leftover pasta he had last night. “Here. It’s better cold.”

Bruce takes the bowl and fork that Steve hands him. “Thanks, Steve. I’ll drop the flying car since you’ve bribed me with food.” He sits down and gets comfortable. “What are you making now?”

“Mac and cheese.” Steve gets back to work because he needs to get it in the oven. “Baking it, like my mom used to make. At least, I hope I remember everything for the recipe.”

“Master Clint enjoys bacon bits sprinkled on top,” JARVIS says, and Steve swears he can hear smugness in his tone. He can feel Bruce looking at him at the same time he can feel warmth starting to spread from his neck to his face.

“I, uh, thanks, JARVIS,” he mumbles, concentrating on the Mac and Cheese. He’s got time to get it baked before Clint’s due home, but he wants it done early so he can make sure it’s good.

“Mac and cheese, huh?” Bruce is chewing a bite of pasta when Steve glances over his shoulder.

“Thought it might be good.” He doesn’t tell Bruce that it’s Clint’s favorite food or that they’ve talked about comfort foods that always make them feel better. He knows from Clint’s text that morning that he’s managed to catch the sniffles from camping out, so he thought mac and cheese would be a good welcome home meal.

Bruce murmurs agreement and asks questions about the recipe and Steve’s mom in between bites of the pasta. By the time Steve’s got it in the oven and is washing dishes, Bruce finishes the bowl. “That was delicious. Thanks again, Steve.” Bruce squeezes his shoulder. “I’m sure Clint’s going to enjoy the mac and cheese. I’d just suggest hiding it until Thor’s gone to his room.”

“I’m not-I mean, it’s just dinner.” Steve feels awkward as he glances at Bruce and sees him smiling slightly. “But maybe I should order some of that curry that Thor enjoys so much. Just in case.”

“Good idea. Get enough for Tony and Pepper because you know they’ll be here if there’s a team dinner happening.” Bruce tilts his head slightly. “Get enough for me, too. The pasta was great, but I could still eat a little more.”

“I’ll have JARVIS let everyone know when it’s time for dinner,” Steve promises. He knows Bruce probably isn’t that hungry, but the companionship of the team gatherings is something they all seem to appreciate in one way or another even if none of them is particularly vocal about admitting that. After Bruce leaves the kitchen, Steve finishes the dishes and tries to change his mindset of having a quiet night hanging out with Clint to a family dinner, minus Natasha, of course. With a sigh, he looks at the oven timer and wonders again why Tony got an oven without a clock. “JARVIS, what time is it?”

“Master Clint will be home in eighteen minutes, Captain.”