Dark Circles AU

Characters A, B, C, and D are trying to save money by all living in the same apartment, but it's hard when Characters A and B keep highly irregular hours. Character A is too nervous to sleep – because of their anxiety/paranoia/nightmares/etc. – while Character B has insomnia/ADHD/Delayed Sleep Phase Disorder/etc. which make it hard for them to fall asleep.

Cue Character A and Character B staying up late at night at the kitchen table, talking about anything that they can think of so that they can waste the night hours doing something other than stare at their bedroom ceilings, wishing for sleep.

12:58 AM

Tony reclined, the slight, bouncing dip of his chair, bobbing his consciousness back into focus, as he stared blankly at the dual, desktop display in front of him. The two screens functioned as a pair of strange spotlights illuminating the exhausted mechanic in the dark sublevel office space. Tony blinked his eyes a few times, valiantly attempting to recover his focus, but was unsuccessful. Sighing audibly, he crossed his arms, slouching farther down into the plush, black swivel chair as his red rimmed, exhausted eyes drooped beneath the sterile, blue light of his computer.

It happened suddenly, preceding the massive explosion, there was this violent, bright blue light that cut across his field of vision. And then he saw it, powerless to run from it, in his uncanny state of suspension, an expanding ball of what could only be described as noxious, nuclear flames expanded in a circular formation. Effortlessly destroying the massive alien ships, that only moments before, stood as a testament to the monolithic proportions that human technology lacked. Gone…like erasing the scribbles of a pencil with a fine, artist's eraser.

He felt smaller, weaker, than ever before…to stand at the might of a nuclear bomb, decimating a fleet of ancient, militarize alien species …he felt dwarfed by this moment. And more terrified than the moment he awoke in a cave with a car battery hooked up to his chest.

He was going to die. Not in the, 'eventually' or 'one day' type of way that everyone knew at some point, but selectively chose to ignore on a day to day basis, no, he was going to die in moments. The eventuality of it and surety was overwhelmingly chilling in the face of his eventuality.

In contrast, he was buoyed gently by an atmosphere that felt soft, cloud like, even calming, despite his quickly depleting oxygen and soon to be fiery death, and slowly his eyes slid shut, as a warm orange light shone through his eyelids. He knew he was falling, which direction he was uncertain, as the sensation of falling was not present but rather floating…

Tony squeezed his eyes shut tighter, gritting his teeth, as a wave of nuclear air assaulted him, a warning of the impending explosion, and he bit back an impulsive cry and coughed shallowly as his consciousness began to slip. "I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die" he thought over in over, in frantic repetition. His heart pounded loudly, the blank display in his helmet, and the loneliness creeping in as the oxygen crept out and the darkness threatened to swallow him whole. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen but suddenly he was gasping, his brown eyes squeezed shut, as he desperately tried to pull in air and ignore that rapid pounding of his heart. Grasping at his chest, encased in metal, he felt helpless to steady his frenzied gasps.

And just as he felt his body get hit with another wave of radioactive gusts, his eyes opened slightly, and he saw light…and shapes…New York City! But the view was slowly growing smaller and smaller…Tony gasped deeply…nothing…again…nothing…there was no oxygen. He felt his eyes bulge and as consciousness slipped he closed them despite the painful pressure in his chest...

Tony jolted awake, his foot kicked the underside of his work desk, spilling a cup of cold coffee across his keyboard, and his chair tipped over. The crash resounded in the concrete dungeon with a reverberating thud and Tony groaned loudly as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Grudgingly he pulled himself up by his desk, a palm of damp papers beneath his hand, and he lacked the energy to frown. He glanced at his computer momentarily…ignoring the work his mind could no longer process…he hadn't slept fully in five days and the deep purple beneath his eyes grew only darker as the night progressed.

2:43 AM

You stared at the ceiling of your room. The rest of Avengers tower was either asleep or out on a mission. You thumbed the home screen button of your iPhone again, bored, and fully, widely awake despite wishing to sleep. Your body was immensely sore from an intense work out with Agent Romanoff earlier that day. You bitterly thought how she was most likely enjoying healing sleep at this very moment. And with that negative thought you pushed yourself up from your bed. Time to do something useful with my time, you thought, still clad in jeans and a loose black shirt you padded over to your door and out into the hallways.

After a short walk and elevator ride a few floors up, you exited the elevator to enter a large lounge space that spanned almost the entire 50th floor of Avengers Tower. You stopped in the small kitchen and flipped on the light, making your way to a hidden wall cupboard, you pulled out a chocolate cake mix. Riffling through the fridge you found eggs, milk, and other assorted ingredients to make a sinfully, delicious chocolate cake.

I mean, why the fuck not? You thought in amusement as you poured the mix into a bowl and cracked a few eggs.

3:19 AM

Tony stared numbly at the coffee machine; the gentle whirring of beans being crushed, the quiet drip of coffee on coffee, and the warm, homely smell of fresh coffee assaulted his senses. But despite this, unbidden, his mind drifted towards his soft, plush bed a few floors below. He fantasized about the possibility of a deep, dreamless sleep in a pile of warm, soft sheets and blankets. He groaned and leaned against the counter, running his hand over his face in delirious exhaustion, and through his mess of brown hair matted by grease and more than a few shower less days, he glanced back down at the slowly dripping coffee machine. For all the money he had he still had to wait for coffee to brew just like everyone else. Tony bit his lower lip in thought, remembering some carefully stashed Adderall in the kitchen cabinets, why did he put it there? Fuck if he could remember. Where did he get it? Well, he was a billionaire, he had connections and if he didn't, well his money could make some. And the burning question that would reside at the tip of anyone's tongue, why did a grown man need to hide his drugs? A better question, would be in what scenario would, in a building full of self-righteous do-gooders -a.k.a Steve Rogers - would Tony leave any drugs in plain sight?

More importantly, Tony needed the memories of the battle to cease their relentless haunting of his mind.

Yawning in defeat, Tony padded over towards the elevator across the room, stumbling over his own toes a couple of times. He contained just enough energy to steady himself against a desk or wall as he made the trek across the room. Forgetting the slowly dripping coffee for the moment, in favor of a more enticing solution to his exhaustion, he slouched against the elevator as it swiftly took him to the 50th floor kitchen.

3:27 AM

You pulled the small tray of chocolate cupcakes from the oven, smiling as the rich, delicious smell of fresh cake invaded your senses. Switching off the oven, you leaned across the counter to grab the bowl of strawberry frosting you whipped from scratch towards you. Jumping onto the counter, you sat and pulled out your phone, waiting for the small cakes to cool down before icing.

Barely a minute passed as you scrolled through your Instagram feed when you heard the familiar ding of the elevator as it opened. Looking at your cellphone again to confirm the late hour you looked up in time to see a yawning, disheveled Stark pad bare foot across the room. He was wearing a loose pair of black sweats and his old grey M.I.T sweatshirt over what looked like a plain white tee.

"Couldn't sleep?" You inquired as you dipped a finger into the strawberry frosting, casually sticking her finger into your mouth to lick it off, an action that would usually illicit an amused comment from Tony but not tonight.

He leaned on the counter across from you, eye brows rising slightly, as he took in the bake wars that had been taking place throughout the evening.

"Apparently, I'm not the only one." He responded, his voice cracked slightly from disuse, as he reached across and dipped a finger into the frosting as well, savoring the sweet taste.

You smiled and really looked at him; his disheveled look was not the result of a satisfying night of sexual exploration but rather, what you guessed was sleepless nights and over work. It seemed like there was a new iron man suit being built almost every week. You never said anything, Pepper and Rhodey did that enough for the rest of the residents at Avengers Tower, and so you just simply avoided the topic. You hadn't been there with him and the other Avengers for the battle of New York. Technically, you weren't an Avenger, though you were S.H.I.E.L.D and you possessed super strength and healing abilities, you had never suited up with your fellow roommates.

Focusing back on Tony, you took in his complexion, his bright brown eyes were dark and tired, rimmed red from lack of sleep and underlined by dark circles over a pallid complexion. His hair wasn't the practiced, messy style but a matted, greasy mess that made it look more black than brown, as your mother would've said, it looks like it needed 'an oil change'. Tony didn't smell particularly bad, perhaps it was the overwhelming smell of cake, and to that you were thankful.

"So, are you going to share? Or will I be taking some by force?" He quipped, despite his exhaustion, and you raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, the only thing you'll be 'taking by force' is a swift kick to the head, if you try, iron man," you retorted as you jumped off the counter and grabbed one of the cupcakes in question and began to ice it.

Tony sighed and leaned across the counter towards your side, his head in his hands, and his tired eyes watched your hand as you iced the dessert. You tried to ignore him, but the forlorn look on his face, was hilarious, giving in, you handed it to him when you finished.

Pushing himself up quickly he took the proffered cake, with more energy than he currently looked to have, and grinned widely at you. You rolled your eyes as you began to ice another cupcake as Tony ate his with the vigor of a pleased child. You laughed again.

"What?" he asked, as he licked some icing from a finger. A confused look twisting his handsome face, "is there something on my face?" he inquired.

Setting the cupcake in your hand down onto the counter, you looked at him, and the smudge of pink icing to the right of his lips. His eyes were unsteady as he watched you and you could tell all he wanted was to pass out but for some reason he wouldn't…grabbing the small dish towel that hung across the oven you then motioned him to walk around the kitchen island to you.

Tony sighed and stretched his arms above his head, as he walked around to stand in front of you, running a hand roughly through his hair; he gave you an expectant glance,

"Well?" he asked. "Do I?"

You go to hand him the hand towel, pointing to where the smudge of pink frosting was on his face, but he refused the towel.

"I can't I need your help." He intoned, childishly, and then gave you a serious look.

"You're hopeless…" You murmured in amusement, as you reached up to his face with the towel, humoring him. You didn't hide the amused quirk of your lips as you pressed the towel against the side of his mouth, gently rubbing the pink away, but you refused to meet his eyes as you did so.

"Why're you still up?" you watched his lips move, as he asked, pulling the towel from his face you finally leveled his gaze with your own. Tony's big brown eyes, despite the visible signs of exhaustion that rimmed his eyes red, hollowed in a sanguine purple, they were focused on you intently.

Pulling back slightly you placed the towel down onto the counter, exchanging it for the cupcake you'd previously held, a small smile on your lips again. He was in a direct mood, it seemed, perhaps it was the exhaustion…and the demons that seemed to swirl in the depths of his eyes, the true reason he fought sleep.

"I can't," you stated simply, taking a delicious bite into strawberry frosting and rich chocolate fudge. His dark brows rose, in blatant question, you licked your lips and continued; "I just don't sleep much. Insomnia is a real bitch...but I'm used to you, what about you?"

Tony stepped closer, directly into your own personal bubble, he stood a couple inches taller than you, so you leaned back into the counter behind you to look up into his eyes. He seemed to be measuring you up, trying to ascertain your motive behind the question, and deciding his course of action. Not breaking eye contact you swept your hair over your shoulder took another bite of the cake, savoring the taste slowly, as you watched his face.

Tony's eyes, instinctually, fell to your mouth, and his parted slightly, taking in a breath, before saying, "I've got…a lot…" he paused, biting his lip, leaning in closer, placing one arm on either side of you, to lean onto the counter behind you. You raised an eyebrow at his audacity, but then again, exhausted or rolling with demons inside his head, this was Tony Stark.

"You've got?" you whispered, to break the silence, not truly expecting an answer.

"A lot on my mind..." he finished. Then his eyebrows furrowed, a grimaced pulled at his tired face, and suddenly he looked ten years older, world weary, and in need of a bed. And he wasn't the Tony Stark that swaggered into S.H.I.E.L.D HQ with a plethora of silver-tongued, quippy one-liners, the Stark that bed an entire Play Boy calendar, or the man who air dropped into his own expo into a sea of scantily clad women. The Tony in front of you stood in a pair of mismatched sweats, exhausted, needing a good shower, and a bottle of sleeping pills; and on some level, despite the obvious internal war waging inside of him, was this closer to the real Anthony Stark than you'd ever seen? Before you could consider this train of thought any longer you saw him open his mouth to speak, perhaps to give you the same tired response he gave Rhodey or Pepper, and the pain that marred his face made your heart ache.

No, I won't do that to him. You thought, and desperate to lighten the mood you grasped at straws, how to distract him? Then your eyes fell to the half-eaten cupcake in your hand.

Got it. You thought.

3:51 AM

Tony's eyes widened, all thoughts of New York temporarily expelled from his head, as he looked at you in surprise. You pulled you hand away, clasping them over your mouth in horror, it had seemed like a good idea, but maybe not, you couldn't tell, and suddenly you were regretting it a hundred fold. The cupcake that had been in your hand, fell to the ground, as a smear of pink frosting rested across Tony's mouth and chin.

You had decided that the best way to lighten the mood was to 'clown pie' him in the face with your cupcake.

Seconds passed into moments and moments into minutes and still Tony looked at you with utter astonishment and surprised, somehow you had managed to leave Tony Stark speechless, and you weren't sure if this was a good thing. Guilt surged through your veins as you hastily grabbed the hand towel on the counter.

"I'm sorry Tony I…" you began as you reached to his face with the towel but he caught your wrist, stopping you, leaning in so your faces were only an inch apart.

Your eyes widened and slowly Tony smiled.

"No."

"No, what?" you asked, uncertain, trying to lean away, but there was nowhere to go.

"No to the towel, honey." He intoned in amusement, his eyes brightening in mirth.

"What?" you asked in abject confusion, still trying to wrench your wrist from his grasp, his lips quirked as the smile grew into a devious smirk smeared with pink frosting. He placed your hand back on the counter behind you, keeping his hand over your own.

"Use your mouth."

Instantly you felt your face heat up at the request.

You watched as Tony slowly closed the distance between you, leaning in, your lips centimeters from touching, frozen in shock, you watched as his eyes broke contact with your own to settle on your lips. Tentatively, his lips met yours, he kisses you lightly, breaking contact slightly, and then kissing you again. Each time longer and more insistent than the last, until finally you moved your lips against his, and you felt him shift his stance leaning into you. His hand that had been over your own moved to rest against the small of your back, easing you to flush against him, and the kiss became passionate. You tasted strawberry icing, sweet and tantalizing against the tongue, the rich taste easing you into a more confident move. Nipping lightly you pulled Tony's lower lip into your mouth, biting it playfully, and tugging the hair at the back of his head. When you broke the contact, your eyes flicked up to his, eyes heavy lidded, but At this, you as you both laughed, his hand rubbed unconsciously at the small of your back, and your hands rested on either side of his neck, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Resting your foreheads together, Tony's eyes remained closed, and he breathed deeply. Smiling you laid you hand against his right cheek, choosing to ignore the sudden and strange interaction you'd both shared for the first time. He leaned into your touch and you foreheads broke contact as his brown eyes opened slightly, heavy lidded, and he smiled, "Hey…" he mumbled, "why haven't we ever done that before?" he inquired.

You laughed, and leaned forward, kissing a spot right next to his lips, taking the last of the pink frosting with you, and you heard him exhale with satisfaction as you leaned back away.

"It's time for bed, Tony." You said, with sweet finality as your hand playfully slid from his face down his arm, and lightly grasped his fingers, pulling him slowly back toward the elevator. Leaving the cupcakes and frosting as you flicked the lights off, you both padded across the room in lethargic contentment.

4:27 AM

You laid next to Tony, his eyes barely open, the MIT sweatshirt rumpled against his neck and sliding up his torso. Pulling the plush blankets and sheets over you both you snuggled into the pillows under your head.

"You know, most girls would be straddling me by now." He stated, a devious smirk pulling at his lips lazily.

You laughed softly.

"Perhaps another time, Tony," you said, running a hand through his air gently, his eyes slipping shut, under the gentle touches of your fingers.

"Another time…" he murmured sleepily as exhaustion began to claim the tired inventor.

"Don't worry, "you whispered, snuggling closer and pressing your forehead to his, you let your hand rest against the front of the old sweatshirt, nuzzling your nose with his, as your own eyes slipped shut, he sighed contentedly, and you whispered,

"I'm here."