[SIX MORE HOURS UNTIL 2015 IS OVER. WHAT. WHERE DID THE YEAR EVEN GO.]

It's New Year's Eve, Steve's tired, and Tony really likes throwing parties.

It's almost midnight and Tony had rented out a place right in front of the ball that's going to drop in a few short minutes.

The rest of the team is somewhere around the room, mingling and taking small sips of their drinks. But Steve isn't in the partying mood, and instead hangs out outside, watching the large crowd below.

The glass door behind him slides open and (Y/n) steps out, closing it behind her and smiles at him. "Hey."

"Hi."

"Why are you out here by yourself?"

He shrugs. "It's nicer out here. And a pack of women were hovering around me for some reason. It was making me uncomfortable, so I left."

She laughs. "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"About the tradition on New Years when the ball drops."

He frowns. "What?"

"10.."

(Y/n) turns to the ball, watching as large numbers count down on the screen.

"9.."

"What tradition?"

"8.."

"Want me to show you?"

"7.."

"Will it hurt?"

"6.."

"Maybe."

"5.."

"What?"

"4.."

"I'm joking, Steve. It's completely harmless."

"3.."

"Then sure, why not?"

"2.."

"Close your eyes."

"1.."

(Y/n)'s presses their lips together right as a roar of "HAPPY NEW YEAR"'s come from the room, and just about every place in New York.

"Oh," Steve breathes when they part. "I like that tradition."