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“Pizza run!” Tony calls as he walks into the common room. “Nose goes.”
He slams his hand on his nose as he walks towards the coffee maker, making sure that the bag of grounds was actually a bag of grounds and not a bag of dirt.
That had happened once.
Steve pokes himself in the nose with his pencil and winces. “What do the boys want?”
“Wonderful question, Captain Tightpants.” He spins around, the coffee already starting to brew. “What do the boys want?”
Steve ignores the jab at his uniform.
“Pepperoni!” Percy yells. “Four whole pizzas. I love that shit.”
“Hawaiian is better, duh.” Jack bonks Percy on the head. “I don’t need to eat, but get me like seven. That crap is fabulous.”
Pietro shrugs. “Meat lovers? With gummy bears on it, that’s awesome, thank you.”
“Gummy bears?” Peter makes a face. “I’m all for meat lover’s, meat lover’s is awesome, but no gummy bears, please and thank you.”
Hiccup looks at Toothless, who gives Hiccup the best cat-dragon-puppy-whatever they are eyes Tony has ever seen. “No anchovies. Anything but anchovies. Something with something green on it?”
“Green?” Percy makes a face. “Like, lean, green, air machine? Gross. We’re fed enough rabbit food at Camp, I want greasy, greasy stuff.”
“Gummy bears on pizza are gross.”
“You do know that the phrase ‘lean, green, air machine’ refers to a tree, right?” Hiccup says.
“Ooh, let’s do a combo pizza!” Jack shouts. “It has vegetables, right?”
“But sugar content,” Pietro says. “Sugar. Calories. Yum.”
“FRIDAY?” Tony asks over the squabble.
“Four pepperoni pizzas for Mr. Jackson, three combination and four Hawaiian pizzas for Mr. Frost, seven meat lover’s pizzas for Mr. Maximoff and Mr. Parker, and a margherita pizza with arugula for Mr. Haddock. Plus the usual order for you and the rest of the Avengers, boss: five Hawaiian, four combo, three pepperoni, two cheese, and one meat lover’s. I have also taken the liberty of ordering a large package of gummy bears.”
The boys stop bickering and look up at the ceiling.
“I love you, FRIDAY!” Jack shouts.
“I am sorry, but I am incapable of feeling human emotions like love.”
Jack pouts but shrugs.
“You know what, that’s a lot of pizza,” Clint says, sauntering into the main common area. “That’s, what, our usual fifteen pizzas with nineteen pizzas for the boys? I don’t want to go pick that up. Nobody wants to go pick that up. The only thing more amusing than one of us going to go pick that up is watching someone else deliver that for us. Who’s in?”
They watch the pizza delivery guy stagger up to the Tower on the external video feeds, thirty-four pizza boxes in two large duffel bags at his sides. The lady at the front desk is confused briefly until he explains that the pizza is for the Avengers, and the security detail look vaguely unsurprised as they scan the pizza boxes for metal (hey, someone put a bomb in their pizza once and Steve was pissed, it was a thing).
The elevator dings open pleasantly and the pizza guy drops the pizza onto the floor, panting.
“Thirty four pizzas,” he says. “Thirty four. How many people are you feeding?”
The boys glance up, and Peter does a quick headcount. “Um, eleven?”
Tony tips the pizza guy handsomely and they all settle around the common room. Fitting eleven people around the dining table is difficult as it is, even without thirty-four pizza boxes, so they opt for the floor. Thor and Steve move the titanium-reinforced (yes, that’s perfectly normal in Avengers Tower) table to the side and they all pile their boxes in the center.
Jack inhales his pizza, one slice after another after another. There are perks to being an immortal, Tony thinks to himself as he starts on his second slice of cheese and third slice total, and one of them is being able to win all of the pizza-eating contests.
And maybe if Percy hadn’t said he wasn’t totally immortal, Tony would’ve thought that he was. Since four pizza boxes (whole fucking pizza boxes) disappeared into his stomach in the blink of an eye.
“You have, like, a hollow leg or something,” Peter says as he starts on one meat lover’s pizza with Pietro.
Hiccup shoots him a dirty look. “Hello, missing leg, and I don’t eat nearly as much as you weirdos.”
“A second stomach, then,” Pietro says decisively.
The Avengers finish their pizza and watch in horror – pure, undiluted horror – as the boys (five of them!) manage to fit nineteen pizzas into their stomachs, averaging about three-point-eight boxes apiece.
Natasha furrows her brows as Percy shoves his third empty box into the trash. “That… is terrifying,” she says.
“Do you guys have superpowers we don’t know about?” Tony asks. Because seriously, Pietro could eat Thor under the table, Jack looks like he could out-consume even Steve, and Percy has eaten enough pizza to feed Clint’s family of five for a school week.
The boys freeze and glance at each other warily.
Pietro shrugs after a moment. “If you don’t count a really fast metabolism? Um, no, don’t think so.”
“I used to only eat one and a half pizzas, now I eat four for reasons mostly unknown,” Percy says with a shrug. “I just really like pizza.”
Steve shudders.
“Spider-Man, Spider-Man,” Peter sings around a mouthful of meat lover’s. “Does whatever a spider can, like eating a crap ton of pizza.”
“Hey, I haven’t eaten properly for two hundred years,” Jack says with a shrug as everybody looks to him. “I deserve more than seven pizzas.”
“And I eat just as much as the next person.” Hiccup side-eyes Percy, who looks up from his fourth pizza innocently. “As much as the next normal person, anyways.”
Toothless meows indignantly.
“Yeah, bud, I get it, you want anchovy pizza. Too bad. You get your cat food.”
Another meow.
“I don’t care, you’re in your cat form, go eat your gross cat food.”
Toothless huffs and stalks off, tail waving in the air.
Hiccup turns back to his half-finished margherita pizza with a sigh, but freezes when he realizes everybody’s staring at him.
“No, go back to your freaky consumption levels, this is normal,” he says, tearing apart the pieces of his pizza where they’re stuck together.
Steve looks down at the quarter of a pizza he has left in front of him.
“You know what, I’m done,” he says. “Next time, pizza eating contest?”
The boys (plus Thor) cheer.
“That is quite possibly the worst idea you’ve ever had, Cap,” Tony says with a raised eyebrow.
Steve meets his statement with a challenging smirk. “Afraid you’re going to lose to Barton, Tony?”
“Aw hell no,” he says defensively. “Alright, fine, I’ll going to fund your ridiculous quest.”
Percy stands up, the last bit of crust sticking out his mouth, and chews and swallows hastily. He shoves the pizza box in the now-overflowing trash (he needs to remember to invent a better garbage disposal thing) and throws his pen-sword on the formerly impressive (but now just kind of pitiful) pizza box mountain.
“The challenge has been set,” he declares dramatically in an ominous voice and sweeps from the room, only pausing to wipe all of the grease from his four boxes of pizza onto Pietro’s hair as he walks out.
Pietro screeches an indignant ‘hey!’ and Tony, even though it breaks physics, doesn’t even bat an eye as the pen disappears from the stack of pizza boxes, instead opting to nibble at a piece of the leftover Hawaiian.