Oneshots... Assemble!

The Juice Drink-Off

Steve is pretty much helpless when his friends, Sam and Bucky, decide to drink some juice boxes.

Steve's head was pounding. Throbbing, even, with all the slurping of juice boxes. That's right- juice boxes. Sam and Bucky were on their fourth box of apple, grape, and even pineapple flavors of juice. Then, they turned it into a competition.

Nobody else was in the tower, or at least in the common room floors. Clint and Natasha were probably sparring on either the roof or in the training room because they were Clint and Natasha. Tony was spending time with Pepper and Bruce had gone to the store with Thor to restock on poptarts. And now, juice.

"Can you guys please shut up?" An exasperated Captain finally spoke up. Of course, the first thing he would try to do would be to get his friends to be quiet.

"How about...no," Bucky replied while Sam merely increased his volume of slurping the straw. "Fuck, where's the other box?"

"Cappy!" Sam whined while draining whatever number juice box he was on. They had lost count a long time ago, somewhere around the second box. Then, both man children threw it across the room and grabbed another.

"No."

"But-"

"You're both idiots." Steve said, picking up a book to resume reading. Hopefully without any more distractions; if only that was possible in this tower.

Both Sam and Bucky stared each other dead in the eyes, not moving an inch. That is, until one of them demanded Friday play a wild west standoff song. Steve sighed, this is going to get messy and Stark will blame me.

History repeats itself, right?

"This tower ain't big enough for the both of us!" Bucky shouted while still being hunched over the table.

"That's why you're gonna leave, yeah?" Steve slowly backed away his chair, using Sam's threatening words as a distraction.

"Oh hell nah, lil bird! This is my juice now!"

"Is that a fact, Jack?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it is a fact, bro." Steve's chair was almost to the kitchen island. He knew he could use it as cover in case something got thrown. So much for having a nice, relaxing reading session.

In the blink of an eye, after their silent conversation, both competitors had their plastic wrapped straws in their opposite hands. Then, they started slamming them against the table surface to break it open.

"Guys, let's just think about this-" Steve's final plea to be reasonable was cut short by the two angry glares he received soon after. "Fine. Mess up the kitchen, that's on you so you're cleaning."

The captain didn't even see when or how both of his chaotic friends had the boxes half in their mouths, eagerly sucking away on the carton of juice. Purple flower through the plastic straws, at least, the small percentage that didn't instantly splatter out and onto the table. It had already dried, so there was no hope of saving the abused kitchen table.

Steve groaned, already knowing this was going to be a 'Steve problem' as Clint put it one time. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if both assassins were secretly watching and holding back laughs at how dumb their teammates could be. Especially when one of them is nearing his hundredth birthday.

The juice boxes soon drained completely; they scrunched up into a wad of lilac colored plastic. Sam and Bucky stood up so fast, their chairs fell backwards to the floor, gasping for breaths after fucking inhaling the grape juice at such a high velocity.

"What. The. Absolute. Fuck."