Love You Like a Love Song (4/8)
Title: Love You Like a Love Song
(OR: 5 Times that Natasha and Steve did not understand a pop song + 1 time that Clint understood a pop song and Natasha did not + 1 time that Natasha understood a pop song that Clint did not + 1 time that the whole team understood a song)
Disclaimer: Characters are Marvel’s. Story is mind. Headcanon is my crack.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst. Lots of it. Feels. Some fluff.
Author’s Note: I have feels sometimes. Forgive me for some fluffy cheesy crack.
Summary: Unfortunately, pop music was inherent to the culture and they were subjected to it, again, and again, and again. By proxy, due to Natasha’s temperament and Steve’s insatiable curiosity, their teammates were also subjected to their reactions to it. Again, and again, and again.
1. Oxford Comma - Vampire Weekend
Bruce was giving a presentation on a paper at NYU so Natasha was coming as his guard and his grounder. At some point, they discovered she was very good at reminding Bruce how powerful he could be, mostly because he was one of the only people in the world who brought out her fear. Steve came as moral support who could stand somewhere other than the shadows like Natasha would be. They took a car over, one of Tony’s, complete with a driver. It was an awkward ride. Natasha stared out the window. Steve stared out another window. Bruce looked over his paper.
The driver played a song that had a catchy beat, but Steve didn’t understand the words.
“What’s an oxford comma?” he asked.
“The comma that goes in a list of things,” Bruce explained. “You can say, Bruce, Tony, Clint and Natasha are coming to the party. If you don’t put a comma after Clint, Clint and Natasha are coming together. If you put a comma after Clint, they’re coming but separately.”
“Or, I invited the gay male strippers, Coulson and Fury,” Natasha supplied as an example. “if you don’t put a comma after Coulson, then Coulson and Fury are the gay male strippers. With the oxford comma, I invited male strippers and Coulson and Fury. It’s just a more specific way of listing.”
“I need to blowtorch my brain,” Bruce said quietly to no one in particular.
Steve stared at her in horror. “Okay. I get that. But why don’t the singers give a fuck about an oxford comma?”
“They like Coulson and Fury the male strippers? I don’t know. They also say to take the chapstick and put it on your lips,” Natasha frowns. “Where the hell else would you put chapstick?”
Bruce looked up at the ceiling. “People argue about the oxford comma, that’s why, Steve. It’s a big debate.”
“People waste time debating a comma?” asked Steve. “Don’t we have other world problems?”
Bruce smiled at him. “You’d think.”
“But I do think,” Steve replied.
“All my diction is always dripping with disdain,” Natasha noted from the song. She shrugged. “I mean, some lines are good. It’s when they’re all put together I don’t understand it.”
“I don’t understand any of it,” Steve added helpfully.
Bruce thought about walking the whole way to the university. “You’re not supposed to understand it. It’s a song.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Natasha told him.
“Why write a song that doesn’t make sense?” asked Steve.
“I wouldn’t lie about something dumb like that,” Natasha told him.
“For fuck’s sake,” Bruce moaned into his hand.