Summary: In which an oblivious Tony uses "fondue" as a euphemism, and Steve attempts to become an armchair.

A/N: My other Avengers fic was all angsty, so I felt like I needed to do a humor fic to counteract the angst. I loved the fondue mix-up in Captain America, and I feel like Tony would have all sorts of fun with it.

Euphemistically Speaking

Tony rolled his eyes as he walked into the living room of the Avengers' Mansion and was immediately greeted by the sight of Clint and Natasha making lovey-dovey eyes at each other from their places on either side of the couch. The two assassins had recently embarked on a long-overdue relationship, and the rampant puppy love was even affecting Natasha's usually cold demeanor. Tony tossed back his champagne and made a disgusted noise as he watched the two assassins who were practically canoodling on his sofa.

"Guys, just 'cause you two are fonduing now doesn't mean you have to shove it in our faces. It's gross."

Steve, who had been quietly reading while curled up in Tony's favorite armchair (in expensive Italian import, all white leather and fluffiness), looked up. Clint and Natasha took a break from their soppy gazing to stare incredulously at Tony. Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"Fonduing, Stark?"

"Well, yeah. You know, churning butter, knocking boots, doing the deed, going at it like rabbits, scr- look, I was trying to be considerate of Capsicle's virginal ears, okay?" Tony polished off his champagne then stared woefully into the glass as if willing for it to magically refill. Clint suppressed a laugh and ended up snorting instead. Steve felt his face heating up and he pressed himself into the chair and made a pointed effort to be as small and unobtrusive as possible, which was made very difficult given that he was wearing a bright red shirt and that his body was too big to sink into the chair properly.

"But why fonduing?" asked Natasha curiously, while Steve silently wished that camouflage was part of his superpowers.

Tony shrugged. "My dad used it. Don't know where he got it from."

The billionaire chose that unfortunate moment to look over at Steve. "Spangles! Don't tell me you're blushing like a twelve-year-old girl because we were talking about sex!"

Steve blushed even more furiously. "No!" The others looked unconvinced, and Steve bit his lip. Either he let them think he was severely flustered by them speaking about sex even in euphemistic terms, or he told them where Howard Stark had got "fonduing" from and made himself look like a naive fool. He ran a hand through his hair and decided to get it over with. He took a deep breath and started to explain about Peggy and Howard and the aggressively flirtatious secretary, and how he hadn't known anything about French food at the time and it had just sounded like it meant something dirty...

Tony's laughter at his story was unnecessarily gleeful. Natasha's eyes glinted with amusement, and Clint was shaking with mirth. After a few minutes their laughter had settled down, replaced by comfortable silence. It was Clint who broke the silence and set off a new round of laughter at Steve's expense.

"Dammit. Now I'm hungry for fondue."