fandomtownies | Friendsgiving - Apartment Above Stark Industries, Saturday Evening

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Friendsgiving - Apartment Above Stark Industries, Saturday Evening

Well, it looked like this dinner party was going to either be dead or the strangest one that Tony had thrown in a long time, just based on how he woke up this morning.

But the invites had been sent and there was a catered turkey all ready to be eaten. And mama didn't raise no quitter, so here Tony was. Soldiering on through One Of Those Weekends.

"...oh god, should I have childproofed the cabinets?" he asked himself, staring at his completely not kid-friendly apartment.

Yeah, this would be a great party.

[[Paaaaarty! Come on by!]]

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Like you were allowed to talk, Steve.

"Stuff," Alec said, a little suspiciously himself. Foster care wasn't so far behind him that he was comfortable sharing all the details of food. "Some vegetables 'cause grownups like it when you bring vegetables."

The vegetables weren't cooked, but they were there.

...As well as some goodies, too. Because Alec had done his own choosing.

Steve wrinkled up his nose. "Ugh. Vegetables. No cabbage, right?"

He'd eat it, but. Cabbage.

"Ew," Alec said, making a face of his own. "Naw, potatoes an' squash." In an undertone he added, "I'mma leave the squash here as a gift so we ain't gotta bring 'em back home."

Where they might have to be eaten by them. No thanks!

Steve made a face. "But I live here. Hide it under the sofa and I'll tell Tony about it later?"

Oh, Steve. No.

"Okay," Alec said, since it would be a shame to unload the vegetables off on another kid. And, since Steve seemed pretty okay, he added, "We also brought some cereal and a bunch of fortune cookies, too."

Steve's eyes went big. "What kind of cereal? Corn flakes?"

The 1920s were sad, cereal-wise.

The twenties had just been a dark time for food-lovers everywhere.

"What? Ew, no!" Alec said, wrinkling his nose in turn. "We got good cereal! Froot Loops and Lucky Charms!"

Because nothing said 'nutritional breakfast' like marshmallows!

"What are those?" Steve asked. "Are they better than oatmeal?"

Oh, God, Steve.

Steve existed to hurt Alec, he really did.

"Everything's better'n oatmeal," Alec said, going in for a hug. And here he'd thought he'd had a deprived childhood. "We're gonna introduce you to some good cereal, okay?"

"Okay," Steve said. "C'mon, I'll show you where the bowls are."

He dragged Alec toward the kitchen.

"We brought our own milk, cause milk is expensive," Alec said, obediently trailing behind Steve.

And also cause you never knew what kind of milk people had. It could be the weird kind, like skim, rice, or almond milk. Ew.

"Not if you look really sad at the milkman," Steve said cheerily, "but it's good to be prepared all the time."

"The milkman?" Alec asked. "You mean the cashier at the store?"

"Nah, the guy who delivers it to your door," Steve said. "You don't have him? His name's Stanley."

Stanley, the One True Milkman.

"Nobody delivers milk to the door," Alec said, giving Steven another look of confusion. "You gotta go to the store an' get it."

"Not in Brooklyn," Steve replied. "Stanley carries it up the stairs and everything!"

"Why you need some guy to deliver your milk for you?" Alec asked, confused. "You can just get it from the store when you get groceries."

Sounding pretty bougie right now, Steve. But he was still pouring you a bowl of Lucky Charms because your go-to cereal was Corn Flakes.

"They don't keep cows at the store," Steve said. "They keep 'em on the farm, and that's where Stanley gets the milk!"

He was pretty sure that's how it worked, anyway.

"...Right," Alec explained, pouring the milk from the plastic gallon jug. "They milk the cows an' put it into the containers an' ship 'em off to the store! An' then we go to the store an' buy it."

Nana didn't bother looking for the furthest expiration date. In a house with multiple foster children, the milk never lasted long enough to spoil.

"Stanley just takes it to the apartments instead," Steve said. "Maybe he gets confused?"

Sweet old man that he was, it was possible.

"Bet that's handy," Hardison said. "My Nana's gotta stop at the store almost every day cause we drink the milk so fast. But the only delivery we get is pizza and Chinese food."

"We don't have either of those," Steve said, wide-eyed. "You eat Chinese food?"

Don't ask about 1920s food, Alec. It's just going to make you sad.

"Wait, how can you not have pizza in Brooklyn? Or Chinese food?!" Alec did not understand the words coming out of Steve's mouth, even though he was pretty sure they were speaking the same language.

Even in Chicago, he knew that Brooklyn was kind of the go-to borough for pizza.

"Well, it might be around, but they don't drop it off at my house," Steve said.

"What kinda house gets a milk delivery an' not pizza?" Alec demanded, pushing the overfull bowl of Lucky Charms in Steve's direction. "That's just weird!"

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