Chapter Text
The Avengers as a group is pretty new, tentatively learning how to work together. Tony isn’t really used to working as a team and he suspects neither are the others. So they are all still awkward and unsure about each other and their new role as Earth's protectors of justice and goodness. But things were getting better as they have gotten used to living and working together.
That is until Asgardians arrived and threw a wrench into their dynamics.
The thing is… aliens . Aliens are odd, their blank faces and blank bodies, blank blank blank . The rest of the Avengers kind of bonded over the shared confusion. No one is sure what the self-proclaimed gods are thinking at any given time. For the whole first two weeks, every one of the humans was exhibiting some confused and distressed signals.
It’s so odd, Tony thinks. They are having breakfast, with Cap (please call me Steve) making pancakes, soft peach colored pigment bleeding over his nose and cheeks, purple blotches forming on his uncovered arms. Tony is sitting at the counter which they are using as a dining table instead of a more formal dining room. He’s chugging his second cup of coffee, his right hand sporting indigo circles where it touches the steaming cup. He used to be on the receiving end of jokes for that; how much must he love coffee to display like that.
Bruce joins them a few minutes later, hair still mussed from sleep and wearing a soft green sweater. He’s calmed down significantly from their first encounters, dark violet skin with distressing white stripes Tony had always seen him displaying receding almost completely. Now, as he sits opposite him, Tony thinks, he’s fooling nobody by hiding his peach and reddish ears by the carefully arranged hair. Tony nudges him with his foot under the counter and is halfheartedly prodded back, making him preen at the thought of bringing him out of his shell. Bruce rolls his eyes at the excited orange Tony knows is forming around his eyes. But he smiles, so he obviously doesn't hold it against Tony.
After that, it doesn’t take long for the rest of the human team to trickle in, attracted by the simply divine smell Steve’s cooking is producing.
Besides Barton, whose purple lines on his neck betray his total absorption in tracking Steve's every move (he’s addicted to pancakes, Tony learned), Natasha is sporting color as well. She didn’t use to, displaying isn’t really conducive to spying, but she obviously trusts them enough to let her fingers tip light blue. It’s a warning color, the subtle ‘leave me alone’, but she’s calm since the texture is smooth, and no black stripe in sight.
Then the resident aliens enter the room, Thor booming good morning, Loki slinking behind him. Tony has an impression they don’t get along, but he can’t be sure. It’s as unsettling as always, seeing them march to the table, Thor smiling at least, while Loki stays blank. The color of their skin stays the same baseline shade, betraying nothing.
All the Avengers were briefed by Fury, of course. Tony knows the differences in alien physiology. But still, it’s unsettling that they don’t speak the same body language at all. Keeping an eye on his surroundings, it’s obvious the others feel the same, white blotches appearing on their arms and faces. Natasha hides it the best, probably due to her training, but the blue on her fingers gets an even lighter shade. Steve just loses all the peach.
The most annoying thing is, the Asgardians don’t notice. With a force of will, Tony keeps one circle of indigo on the palm of his hand in defiance.
The pleasant atmosphere lost, Tony sighs and excuses himself. He’d rather go bug Pepper and make one of her interns bring him donuts.
Luckily Pepper isn’t far, just a few floors down in her new CEO office. He winks to her secretary when he passes him, flashing an orange stripe on his cheek twice in quick succession.
“Have someone bring me a snack, will you? Donuts would be splendid,” he throws over his shoulder just before he pushes open the door to Pepper’s main office. He hears a resigned sigh behind him before the door closes with a quiet snap.
His temples bleed a playful peach, his mood already improving.
“Pep, the light of my life,” he sings theatrically, sashaying over to the couch positioned by the wall facing the right side of Pepper’s desk. It’s pale coral color, chosen by Pepper. In the last two months, she figured out his new habit of showing up at her office every time he needed her calm presence. It started soon after the formation of Avengers, and Tony showed up every time he needed to take a break from them. So she bought him a couch. According to her, the color helped her stay fond of him no matter how he whined and disturbed her work. Tony finds that immensely funny.
“Tony,” smiles Pepper, purple swirls near the hairline of her forehead showing him she doesn’t actually mind his intrusion. It must be a slow day.
“It’s just impossible, Pep!” he whines while sprawling all over the couch, shifting to find the most comfortable spot. Dramatically he colors his hands azure blue as he gestures to emphasize his point.
“The Avengers,” Pepper says, but the green on her shows she already knows and is mildly worried.
“Yeah. We were doing so well too,” he laments, “and then, after three months of herding them like cats and getting them to feel like home in my tower, these aliens come dancing from the sky, making a mess of things.” He knows he sounds more than just reasonably resentful, but he can’t help it. It was a matter of pride as well since it was his idea to make Stark Tower into Avengers HQ.
Pepper sighs. “I thought you’d like to meet actual aliens and would try to abduct them to your lab by now. I heard something about advanced civilization?”
“Noooo,” he moans, a shiver of dark red running down his exposed arms before disappearing. “Well, yes, but nooo. Dummy has more personality than them, and he’s a robot! They are just so depressing to be around. Just, blank all the time!”
Pepper raises an eyebrow at him, the right side of her face turning purple in fond amusement. Tony can almost spy some circles forming, but Pepper stops it before they turn indigo. Probably doesn’t like to look too fond while he is disturbing her work. Tony ripples hot pink to show he is onto her, before settling to warm blue splotches.
“Can you imagine,” he continues, “just not displaying at all? Just, nothing?”
“There are skin conditions where people can’t display, Tony,” says Pepper back, but her lower lip loses all pigment until its white. She doesn’t like the thought either.
“I know that,” waves Tony. “I slept with that woman who can’t display on most of her upper body, remember? The famous artist? I think she has nerve damage or something. But she still dressed in the right colors at least, and had a color chart with her.”
That had been interesting, he remembers. He was naturally curious about her, since she was by the bar in an art gallery Pepper made him attend, and not displaying at all. But as soon as he showed his interest, she brought a deck of colored cards from her purse and pulled out deep pink and warm shade of blue, signaling her pleasure at his attention. When he asked to buy her a drink, she calmly took her time to find the right card to flash him white and black, warning him from playing with her or deceiving her. Tony let the arm offering her a drink go boldly indigo in reassurance. The night got even better from there on, and when they were both naked, she had no trouble displaying her appreciation with her bare legs, flashing in all shades of light red.
“Stop it, you look like a flamingo,” laughs Pepper, waking him from his daydream.
Tony just preens at her, keeping the color a while longer and cheekily adding a bit of orange.
With clearing her throat and adding green to her fingers, Pepper brings the conversation back on track.
“I get how Thor and Loki might be unsettling to look at, but I would have thought you’d take it as a challenge,” she tells him.
They are momentarily interrupted by an intern bringing a box of donuts and two cups of coffee. Tony sits up and makes grabby hands at her until he gets handed the yummy sweetness. His hands all but explode in indigo circles, making the intern grin.
“Well, true,” he acknowledges Pepper’s point with the remaining part of donut after taking a big bite. The intern gets handed a pile of paperwork before leaving the room.
“But not displaying is not the only problem. I’m pretty sure they don’t know what the displays even mean,” he exclaims. Thor and Loki haven’t been around for long, but they never show any response to the blatant displays from all the other people.
“I mean,” he gestured in a vague manner, “did SHIELD brief them on it? What did they say? If their agents are as color challenged as Natasha, any explanation would be half-arsed at best!” He lets golden yellow flash down his neck in indignity.
“Then teach them,” counters Pepper, coloring her whole right arm in purple with orange dots, the manipulator. He knows she’s not actually excited herself, but Tony can’t help getting worked up despite himself.
“Fine,” he moans, mimicking her exact shade while adding a dramatic blue to show his sarcastic enthusiasm, causing her to laugh.
With a smile he attacks the donuts and coffee again, his skin mimicking the color of the sofa quite without his consent. They each do their own thing for a while after that, enjoying the silence.
The tranquility is only disturbed when the secretary brings in some urgent documentation and Pepper slips right into her professional mode.
“Will that be all, Mr Stark,” she smiles, looking pointedly at the mountain of paperwork on her desk and turning turquoise, her ‘I’m a boss and I’m working’ color.
“That will be all Miss Potts,” he returns, taking a hint and removing himself from her office.