“He thinks I have stigmata,” Frank said, because what the fucking hell, it couldn’t get any worse. He might as well just lay it out. “Oh, well,” said Brian into his hands. “Of course.”

Their friendship is hard to explain.

"Is that a Slam Man?" Tony asks, walking a slow circle around it. "Didn't they stop making these in the 1990s?" Steve gives him a look that says he's asking the wrong person. "Right, you were. Busy. Being frozen. So why did you bring this horrifying piece of cheap crap into my shop?" Steve, who is clearly excited about his cheap crap, isn't fazed at all by Tony's criticism. "It's a boxing dummy, with lights!" he says. Tony can’t remember the last time Steve looked this excited about something. "And you can program it for your workout. It's almost a robot, right? And you build great robots." Steve gestures toward Dummy, who chirps at him and spins his end effectors, the flirt. Tony thinks Steve actually blushes. "So...can you build something like this? But better?"

Stigmata - marks corresponding to those left on Jesus' body by the Crucifixion, said to have been impressed by divine favor. Also: the plural of the Greek word stigma, meaning a mark or brand such as might have been used for identification of an animal or slave.

Steve is not ninety-four years old; he's barely twenty-seven and he has no idea what he's doing. It's a good thing he's not the only one.

The story of how Darcy Lewis accidentally helps found the Avengers while having an epic, failboaty romance with that dude she nailed in a bar two years ago. Tasers, jackbooted thugs, Tony Stark, and life-altering job offers are par for the course when you help discover an alien/god dude with amazing pecs.

Fury's a beautiful princess. Clint's plotting a Communist revolution. Rhodey's not sexy. Wall-E's not a documentary. Clint's not gay but he does give a great blowjob. This fic is not an AU.

Set in 2006. "Smokes," Mikey reads aloud. "Likes dogs in case ever get one. Likes rock music. Likes loud rock music. Is interesting. Does not hog bathroom." He looks at Frank over the top of his glasses. "Dude, it's like you're meant to be."

It's all Sam's fault, really. It had just been research. Then it got way out of hand. Or, in which, fanfiction takes over their lives for better and for worse.