It was almost three weeks ago that Steve and Tony had talked in the workshop and Tony had to admit that these last few weeks were the best he's ever experienced. He had a house full of people who cared a lot about him and genuinely liked to spend time with him, and a lover who truly wanted to be with him in a long-term way. It was still scaring him sometimes how much at ease he feels whenever they all sit together and do something trivial like watch a movie or have dinner. A small part inside his mind would always pipe up, telling him that it wouldn't last and that he shouldn't get too comfortable because people like him didn't get to keep good things like this.
But then he would remember Steve's words and told that part of his brain to shut the fuck up, thank you very much.
"Sir, Captain Rogers is currently in the kitchen, wondering if you've had breakfast," JARVIS informed him, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Tony averted his gaze from the screen in front of him, which was still running some calculations he needed for an upgrade his wanted to make on his repulsors, and looked at the clock on the far wall. It was half past seven in the morning. Technically, Tony didn't need breakfast, but a bed. He hadn't gone to sleep tonight, too absorbed in his work and he couldn't contain a yawn, even while he stood up and stretched his body.
He cursed himself for not going to bed, not only because he would be feeling it all day, but also because he had someone who noticed now. Steve had been sleeping in his bed since they made their relationship public and Tony still needed to get used to it that there was someone waiting for him now. In the past he only had JARVIS, and sometimes Pepper when she dropped by, to nag him to get some sleep when he got lost in his work and forgot the time. But it was different now that he knew that he wouldn't go to lie in an empty bed.
"Thanks, JARVIS," he responded and grabbed the mug with coffee on his table, draining the last of it in one big gulp. It was cold and stale, but it was coffee, and that was all that mattered. "Was he looking for me last night?" he asked, while making his way to the kitchen.
"Captain Rogers asked me about your whereabouts last night, before he retired to your bedroom. It was 11.32 pm. I informed Captain Rogers that you were working on the upgrade for the Mark VII. He thanked me and told me to keep an eye on you. To which I replied that I always do and such order isn't necessary," JARVIS answered and Tony smiled in amusement, because his AI definitely sounded offended by having it implied that he didn't always look after him.
He thanked JARVIS again and made a quick detour to the bathroom, to freshen up a little bit, before joining Steve for breakfast. He remembered now that JARVIS had informed him last night about Steve asking for him, but at that time he had dismissed the AI and told him to remind him in another half an hour. Which, undoubtedly, JARVIS had done as requested. And just as sure, he had been ignored.
Well, fuck.
This was something which Tony had planned on not letting happen again. He had asked JARVIS to tell him immediately whenever Steve asked for him or if Tony did something he absolutely shouldn't do now that he was in a solid relationship. He wanted to prove to Steve that he could be responsible and take care of himself. The last thing he wanted was for Steve to realise that he was too much trouble and leave because of something Tony had the power to change.
He looked at himself in the mirror over the sink and noticed the redness in his eyes, due to the long hours he spent looking at holographs and blueprints. Frustrated, he rubbed at them, which only seemed to make it worse. Finally, he sighed in defeat and stepped out of the bathroom. Only to directly collide into Steve.
Arms wrapped around him quickly to steady him when he stumbled a little because of the impact, and Tony huffed out a breath. Honestly, it was ridiculous how the soldier was built. He looked up at Steve, who smiled at him and greeted him with a kiss on his forehead. And really, who did that?
"I was just on my way to the workshop to drag you out for breakfast," Steve mumbled into his hair, now fully hugging him.
Tony awkwardly tried to return the gesture, not sure where to put his hands or what to do against the way his heartbeat sped up at the contact. He really wasn't an expert on hugging people, something that Steve had picked up on quickly enough and obviously decided to remedy, considering the many times Tony found himself in a full-body grasp which didn't involve naked skin.
"Did you get any sleep last night?" Steve asked, not letting go.
Tony considered lying, but he strongly suspected that Steve would know the truth anyway. Also, lying was bad for relationships. At least, that's what Pepper told him once. And well, seeing as it was Pepper's advice, it couldn't be anything else than true.
"Uh, I was rather caught up in my work. The repulsors need an upgrade and I've been working on an overall new design for the suit. And Clint made me promise him some new arrows with paralysing affect. And I'm still working on some kind of communication device for Thor when he's on Asgard, so that we can reach him if he's needed. And all the while Dummy just kept getting in the way and bothering me with his fire extinguisher. And I swear I don't know how he finds them all the time, because I hide them every time I take them away from him. I think him and JARVIS are conspiring against me…"
"I take that as no," Steve interrupted him with a chuckle and finally pulled away a bit to look at him, no doubt taking in his obvious fatigue. Steve sighed and Tony was starting to inwardly curse himself for being a self-absorbed idiot, but then Steve started dragging him along to the kitchen, while saying fondly, "How about we get something to eat and then we'll make ourselves comfortable in bed, where you can get some sleep while I draw a little bit?"
Risking a glance towards him, Tony could detect no exasperation or anger on Steve's features and he nodded, thankful of his on-going luck. He just needed to make sure that this wouldn't happen again. Shaking himself out of that train of thought, he replied, "I'll sleep naked, so you don't have to worry about inspiration."
Steve blushed slightly, but replied good-naturedly, "Better keep your clothes on, or you won't be getting any sleep after all."
By the time Tony had recovered from the apparent fact that he had turned Captain America into a sex-deviant, they had reached the kitchen and Clint was immediately bombarding him with questions about his new arrows. Steve frowned at the archer, while grabbing two plates and loading them with breakfast. "You can talk about that later when Tony has eaten. And slept."
"Yes, mummy," Clint grumbled and rolled his eyes at the soldier.
"Ha!" Tony bellowed at Steve in triumph. "See, I told you no one would think that I'm taking the part of the wife!"
Before Steve could reply, Clint had stood up, walked up behind Tony and thumped him on his back. "Sorry, man, but Steve's only the mummy outside the bedroom. Between the sheets, I think there's no doubt about who's the taking the part of the wife," he said, chuckling to himself.
"Hey, I have you know that we're switching it up," Tony exclaimed, offended. "It would be a shame anyway, not to take turns, considering that for such a big guy, Steve's incredibly flexible. Once I almost bent him in half and…"
"Tony!" Steve yelled, mortified, and clamped a hand over his mouth to stop him from saying more.
"Grmfmf," Tony protested and tugged at the hand fruitlessly.
"Thank you," Clint said to Steve, while making his way out of the kitchen. "That was entirely too much information."
Once the archer had left, Steve took his hand away and turned back to the plates he'd been preparing, obviously trying to hide the blush that was creeping up his neck.
Tony grinned devilishly and turned to Coulson, who was now the only other person left in the kitchen. He sat down next to the Agent and happily dug in when Steve placed one of the plates in front of him. "So, how do you like your rooms?" he asked after a few bites from the most delicious pancakes he's ever tasted. Bruce must have been the first one up this morning, because no one made them like he did. Something all the Avengers agreed on and if they all waited for Bruce to be the first to come to the kitchen in the mornings, then it was purely coincidental.
Coulson glowered at him and made Tony rethink his decision to sit down next to him. Scratch that. He should rethink his decision to let Coulson move in with them. What the hell made him bother Coulson so many times about moving in that in the end he had finally agreed, probably just so that Tony would leave him alone? Something must be seriously wrong with him.
"Oh, I think they are just fine, though I think the interior needs some redecorating," Coulson answered calmly.
"Don't tell me you don't like it!" Tony faked a shocked intake of breath. "I designed everything myself and made such an effort to decorate to your liking."
The only response he got was a glare, which made him think of tasers and him drooling on a carpet, so he quickly backpedalled. "Alright, fine. I'll redesign everything. That's what you get for being considerate of other people's wants," he couldn't help but quip.
Then he proceeded to wolf down the rest of the food on his plate at record speed and drag Steve out of there, before Coulson decided that Tony would make a good bedside rug in his new rooms. Steve, that wonderful man, let himself being tugged along without resistance. Once they were out of earshot however, he asked, "What exactly did you do with his rooms?"
"I only thought about what he liked and went with that," Tony tried evading an answer.
"Meaning?" Steve pressed on, nudging him for emphasis.
Having to tell the truth sucked. Hard. "I used some Captain America memorabilia." At Steve's look of disbelief, he added defensively, "What? I thought he would like it!"
Okay, he may or may not have gone a little bit overboard with it. Some Captain America action figures on the dresser and on the bedside table were totally awesome. The Captain America bedding was probably still acceptable. Painting the whole rooms in stars and stripes was a tad too much. And Tony had to admit that buying a few pieces of Captain America underwear and placing them inside Coulson's dresser was undoubtedly the point where the Agent had started looking for his taser.
"You know, we really should spend the day in bed," he said, now that he thought about it like that. It would probably be best not to step into Coulson's line of sight before the redecorating was done.
Thankfully, Steve didn't protest.
Later, when they were lying in bed together, with Tony resting comfortably against Steve's side, he found himself unable to sleep. Steve was immersed in his sketchbook, a look of pure concentration on his face, while his hand worked restlessly across the paper. There was a small crease between his brows and once in a while his tongue would peek out between his lips, which did nothing to help Tony to fall asleep.
It also didn't help that he couldn't shut down his brain, which plagued him with questions about why Steve was even here.
Tony knew that his lover worried about him and liked to make sure that Tony actually got some rest during his work. It was the reason why Tony wanted to improve on his sleep patterns. But he didn't understand why Steve felt the need to sit beside him now, while Tony was supposed to catch up on sleep he missed because of his own inability to actually follow through with that plan. It wasn't Steve's fault, and normally he should be up and going about his day, without needing to keep Tony company to make sure he really slept.
He shifted slightly and Steve stopped drawing to softly run his fingers through his hair. "Can't you sleep?" he asked in a whisper.
"No," Tony simply answered and fingered the edge of the shirt he was wearing. After some mutual teasing and kissing, Tony hadn't gone to bed naked after all and now he wondered if maybe he should have. That way, Steve would have gotten something out of this, too.
"Hey, what's going on in that genius head of yours?" Steve asked, his focus now completely on him.
"It's not the genius in me that keeps me awake right now," Tony responded lowly and pressed his body closer to Steve, while he reached under the covers to fumble at the waistband of Steve's trousers.
"Let me guess, it's the playboy," Steve said and quickly grabbed his hand to stop any further groping. "We have time for that later. Now sleep," he ordered gently.
Tony stilled his movements and contemplated his next move. If Steve didn't allow him to undress him, maybe Tony should simply undress himself and see if he could resist then. Thinking back on his lover's earlier comment, Tony doubted it. He wanted to sit up and strip off his shirt, but Steve tugged him back down immediately. "Sleep," he repeated and Tony was sure that this time it sounded a little exhausted.
"But what about you?" he finally exploded at that, looking straight at Steve, who raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You're just gonna sit there while I sleep?"
"That was the plan, yes," Steve replied mildly.
"Don't you have something better to do?" The words were out before Tony could think about how they could potentially sound rather offending. Something flickered in Steve's gaze for a moment, but it was quickly gone before he could identify it. "I mean, I'm sure that there are things you have to do, important things, that require your attention. So you should, you know, go do them. Or something."
A moment later, Steve's arm had completely snaked around him and drawn him closer into another half-hug, while he whispered in Tony's ear, "I'm already doing that, Tony. I'm here, taking care of something important, that requires my attention. It's good thing, too, that I can't imagine a place where I'd rather want to be at this moment."
Tony bit his lip to stop himself from asking if he was sure about that. He realised that, apparently, he was doing that thing again they had talked about. He was still not trusting Steve. It was just hard to imagine that Steve would want to waste his time by being here on his own free will, when he could spend it doing other things. Hell, his own father hadn't ever been bothered to stay beside him, even when he was lying sick in bed with a nasty infection he got when he was nine years old.
But Steve is different. He cares, he really cares about you, he thought, willing himself to believe it. To trust it.
Therefore, he decided to put a heavy lid on his doubts for now and just enjoy the moment. "Okay," he simply said and wriggled into a comfortable position with his leg thrown over Steve's.
He could almost feel Steve smiling beneath him, while his exhaustion finally caught up to him. Contently, he closed his eyes and barely heard Steve whisper, "Sleep well, love."
He was asleep, before he could properly panic about that last word.