Tony pulled two wine glasses from his cupboard and set them on the counter.

"So what is it that you called me down here for, Tony?" Natasha asked, walking towards the couch that faced the skyline. She was wearing an elegant black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Tony sighed.

"Just wait for it," Tony said, popping the cork out. It always was a satisfying sound.

He circled around the kitchen and sat next to Natasha, handing her a frosted glass. She took it with a cautious, but appreciative nod.

"This better serve a purpose."

Tony smirked.

Steve's enraged yell drifted down the stairs. "Tony Stark, what have you done with all my clothes? This is the third time in the past month! It's not funny anymore!" Rapid footsteps echoed down the stairs. Steve came around the corner.

Natasha made a choking noise, an absurd sound coming from such a composed and lethal woman.

Steve Rogers was fresh from the shower, one hand knotted in the towel that hung low on his hips, but he was otherwise lacking any other cover.

He was slightly out of breath, naked chest jumping with the hitched intakes of air. His pectorals heaved up and down. Six perfectly sculpted abdominal muscles rippled as he stalked towards them. He was still wet, damp skin glistening in the low lighting. Little droplets of water slowly rolled down his exposed collarbone. Natasha vaguely wondered what that bone was called, the one that ran diagonally down toward his…

Her nose twitched.

Natasha swallowed, taking a measured sip of wine as her gaze waltzed up and down his body.

Tony's eyebrow quirked up.

"Tony!" Steve yelled, his eyelashes long and feathered, highlighted by a stray ray of sunlight. Damp blond hair was unusually unkempt, strands falling on his forehead.

The billionaire sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. "They're on the roof."

"Thank you!" Steve exclaimed, stomping towards the elevator.

Natasha turned to watch him walk away, broad shoulders and absolutely fantastic behind rotating with him. She returned to her original position, observing the skyline, eyes uncharacteristically wide. She silently held her glass to the side.

Tony clinked his glass with hers.

"To objectifying men!"

Natasha popped her lips.

"Do you think that serum affected everything?" she asked.

Tony smirked. "I know it did," he answered arrogantly. He was like a smug child.

Her eyes narrowed. He held up his hands in defense. "It was an accident, I swear!"

Natasha gave him The Look.

"A controlled accident, maybe. Come on, like you didn't appreciate that!"

Natasha cleared her throat, shoved her wine glass into Tony's outstretched hand, and the smoothed the wrinkles in the fabric on her thighs.

"I'm going to go take a shower."

Tony snorted. "I bet you are." He was going to ask to join her, but then realized he enjoyed keeping his head out of his ass.

She glared at him. Tony blanched.

"Right, just kidding! I'm going to go… see if Steve there, is having any troubles. You know, putting on, I mean—finding his clothes."

Tony scampered out of the room.

Natasha exhaled loudly.

She had a controlled accident to plan.

I couldn't help it. This was completely pointless, but come awwwwn, Chris Evans is quite possibly the hottest guy I've ever seen. He's perfect. I just wanna touch him. Once. Twice. Three times a man...

Anyways, Natasha was prolly out of character, although I don't put it past Tony to be appreciate both sexes. It's Chris Evans. Any man would blur the lines for Chris Evans. And it's Tony, and he's hilarioussss.

Going to go take out my sexual frustrations on Tumblr... I'll be publishing something actually worthwhile sometime tomorrow. :)