A Random Rainy Night:

Stephen: Where are you going? Tony: Hell, eventually.

Tony: What the hell is that in your face?

Peter: It’s my angry expression!

Tony: This isn’t an expression…it’s an accident

Drunk Tony: *Says something stupid*

Stephen: What were you drinking? Because next time you say something like this to me, I'd like bottle of whatever you had so I don't have to remember what you said.

Bruce: the real treasure was the memories we made along the way

Thor: i almost died

Loki: *wiping away a tear* that was my fondest memory

Tony: What language do they speak at the center of the earth? Tony: Core-ean Thor: The center of the earth is around 5430 degrees Celsius! Nobody is going to live there so they don’t need a language! Clint: Core-ean.

Tony : Maybe it's true that I look at Stephen in a loving way, talk to him lovingly, and have loving feelings for Stephen, but does that mean I love Stephen?

Tony :

Tony : Oh my god, I'm in love with Stephen

Tony : Why didn't you tell me?

Peter : I thought you knew already!

Nothing feels better than lying in bed with Sam. Nothing feels better than feeling just the silk sheets on his bare skin, the breath of his boyfriend by his ear, and a fingertip making lazy trails across his chest.

It could almost put Bucky to sleep, his eyelids droop lower as Sam loops his finger in a circle, then stops around his collarbone.

“This one’s new,” Sam says, voice barely above a whisper. 

“What?” Bucky mumbles, not fully paying attention.

“This freckle, here,” Sam says, pushing his fingertip deeper into the skin. “It’s new.”

The freckle Sam’s pointing to is too close to his neck. Bucky can’t look down and see it, he doesn’t try to move anyway.

“You probably just don’t remember that one," Bucky argues noncommittedly.

“Nope. I’m certain,” Sam says, resting his head down on the cushion of Bucky’s left pec. “I know all your freckles.”

Bucky huffs out a breathy laugh. Sam must register the disbelief in it.

“You don’t believe me,” Sam says.

“Course not, how can you remember every single freckle on my body?”

Sam picks his head up, stares straight into Bucky’s eyes.

“Cause I kiss them every night. I’ve counted them, all fourteen.”

“Fourteen?”

“Now fifteen,” Sam says and puts his finger back on the one by Bucky’s neck. The one he just discovered tonight.

And that’s when the moment hits Bucky. Sam’s studied his body, paid such close attention to each inch so carefully, he’s even counted the imperfections.

It hits Bucky unexpectedly, makes his eyes water a little too quickly because he’s only had very bad people pay that close attention to him. He’s only had insane people write down every detail of his existence so they can’t forget them and even they didn’t count his freckles.

Bucky closes his eyes slowly hoping the tears will dissipate and hugs Sam against his chest to get his boyfriend’s eyes off him. 

He considers for a moment whether he should admit that he’s touched by the sentiment. And he wants to believe he knows Sam’s body just as well, better than his own, but he fights the instinct instead.

“Stop counting my freckles,” Bucky murmurs.

He feels Sam smile against his skin, press a kiss to his collarbone, and then sigh. 

“Can’t.”

Bucky's mouth pulls into a smile and that only makes him want to cry more but he swallows through the tightness in his throat. He only hugs Sam tighter.

He won't say it, he can't, but he knows how lucky he is. To have a man who's counted all fifteen of his freckles.

Nobody:

Absolutely no one:

Kate just accidentally setting the training room on fire: Oops?

Clint, who just knew that special fire arrows are bad idea: Tony's gonna kill me.

Tony, being used to it because Peter blows up their lab every day: Kids.