Previously published on my old fanfiction account, if this seems familiar.


It had been exactly thirty-two hours and fifteen minutes since Steve had last left his and Tony's bedroom at Stark Tower. Tony had been keeping track of it with the aid of Jarvis, as there was really nothing else while sitting with his back pressed against the door because he was waiting for any sign that Steve would emerge from the depths of the bedroom sometime soon. Alas, his hopes were all in vain, considering the captain was nearly as stubborn as Tony.

Since Loki had zapped Steve with some kind of magic spell that Tony wouldn't presume to understand, Steve had been transformed back into the state he was in before he was given the Super Soldier Serum, all health complications included. It had been as hard on Steve as it would be on anyone, Tony had reasoned. In fact, the billionaire had to admire how Steve handled it because who knew how he would've coped with it.

But still. Steve was in there, had been in there for over a day without sleep, without food. Tony was nice enough to leave him alone to have his personal space, but now it was becoming too much. It was becoming worrying, even.

"Honey, you're going to have to let me in soon," Tony called out. Hearing a bustle of movement, he heard approaching footsteps.

"Tony. No," the captain replied. He sounded like a broken record by now, having declined the brunet over a hundred times. "I won't let you see me like this. Not until it's over."

Tony stood at his full height, brushing off his legs. Stretching his arms skyward, he winced at his stiff back caused from sitting pressed against the door for so long. The things he did for Steve.

"You know I don't care, Steve. You need to come out or at least let me in."

The billionaire's face was pressed against the door now, much like a dog would, and he closed his eyes, wishing he could mentally will his boyfriend to open the door. Steve and Tony had been dating for a little over two months and had been friends for more than that. The latter confided his deepest, darkest secrets in the captain, including how Stane had stolen the arc reactor (he'd never told anyone that before, not even Pepper) and how he nearly had panic attacks whenever someone else touched the reactor. Steve had comforted him then, had respected that. Tony only wished the captain would let him do so in return.

There was the sound of exhalation then the door marginally opened. Pleased, Tony opened it all the way and closed it behind him. Steve was already sitting on the foot of the bed, his back turned. His spine and shoulder blades were prominent under his baggy and oversized t-shirt.

The brunet headed toward him, bending on his knees so they were at eye level. He placed his hands on Steve's knees while the captain only purposely averted his gaze downward, staring at his feet.

"Steve," Tony muttered softly, trying to be as comforting as possibly despite being the worst possible candidate for this. Still, he was Steve's boyfriend, and this was one of the things he had to do. Besides, he wanted to do this, wanted to help Steve. He loved Steve, even though they hadn't really exchanged those three words just yet due to Tony having a crippling fear of saying how he felt because he thought he'd be laughed at.

"Steve," the billionaire repeated, hand coming to cup his cheek, his thumb caressing a prominent cheekbone. "Steve, look at me."

It took a moment, but those baby blues had flicked to him, filled with shame and regret and something else. It was a pitiful expression, but Tony refused to pity him because Steve would hate that most of all.

"I'm sorry, Tony," Steve mumbled, shaking his head. Tony sighed, climbing up onto the bed behind him after kicking off his shoes. Thumbs pressed firmly against his back, moving in slow circles to relieve any muscle tension. Steve melted into the touch, head lolling backward. Tony had read up on Steve's files, knew about the back tension he had.

Tony continued the ministrations, moving up to Steve's shoulders as he spread staccato kisses over the nape and sides of the man's neck, exhaling soft puffs of breath against the bare skin. "Don't be sorry, Steve."

The words were barely a whisper against Steve's skin, spoken almost too soft to be audible. But Steve heard every word and shivered. Whether or not it was from how thin he was or Tony's breath against him was debatable.

"I don't care what form you're in," Tony continued, hands coming down to rub at Steve's arms, warming him up. "You can be like this, you can be the Captain America everyone sees. You could be anything in the world, and I'd still be head over heels for you."

Steve turned to face Tony, hands against the man's chest, dangerously close to the arc reactor now. But Tony didn't tense, or push him away, or hyperventilate like he was always prone to doing whenever someone did this—even when Steve usually, accidentally did it.

"It's cold," the blond murmured, and Tony nodded, pulling him to him and lying back against the bed. His hands rubbed Steve's back as the captain lay on his chest, breathing heavy and labored due to his asthma. Slender fingers traced patterns around the outline of the arc reactor, even as Tony pulled the Egyptian cotton comforter over the both of them, the fabric soft and warm against their skin. His fingers moved from Steve's back to knead at the back of his scalp in the place he knew always made Steve putty in his hands and doze off in a matter of seconds. Steve was exhausted, and needed rest, even by Tony Stark's standards.

It was only when the caresses stopped that Tony knew his boyfriend was asleep. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against Steve's ear, tucking his hair back.

"I love you like this."