Tony sat in his room with a tumbler of whiskey, thinking back on his last few days. He was becoming increasingly bored with his everyday routine, where he drank alcohol, partied, passed out, then did it all again the next morning. Ever since the Avengers had been sent out on break, he'd had a lot of time to think. Tony wasn't too fond of that. All the thinking left... Much to be desired, and his mind had wound back to her on more than one occasion. He glanced at his phone, wondering if she'd be annoyed if he called. As a team, they'd been dynamic. Aside from that though, the Black Widow didn't seem too fond of him. What was there for her to be fond of though? Sure, Tony loved himself. No, he REALLY loved himself. But from her perspective, there wasn't much there to love. She didn't like her men pretty and fun; she liked them bloody and driven. She liked Hawkeye. Tony had known this for awhile, that still didn't make it easy to stop thinking about her.
She'd told him so many times that she hated his alcoholic tendencies. He'd said just as many times that he didn't care what she thought. But he did. He cared so much, and if he could take his mind off her any other way, he would have done it in a heartbeat. But he couldn't and she didn't know, so he drank. With a low groan, he stood up and stretched out his cramped muscles. It was probably about time to send his guests home, anyway. Tony stumbled out of his study and stared down at the revelry below. "Party is over." He called loudly. Most of the people ignored him. He noticed the broken decor strewn around the floor, and decided to reiterate his words. "If you don't leave now, I'll force you out. Rather, Iron Man will." He shouted over the music. Slowly, people began pouring from his front door, out into the night. With a sigh, he slumped onto the stairs. He stayed there until everyone had left, then stayed there a bit longer still
It wasn't until he noticed a dark figure in the doorway that he decided to move. "I said the party is over, not my fault you showed up late." He said with a dark voice. He wasn't in the mood for these girls, the ones who hang around after the party hoping they'll get something none of the other guests could. Normally he would deal with them politely, tonight just wasn't the night for that though. The figure slipped into the shadows, and he gave up. "Fine, what do you want?" He called in exasperation. Suddenly the figure was right next to him, though he couldn't say how they'd done it. One small hand covered his mouth, another cupped around his neck. Immediately he regretted not getting his suit on, surely this was a sneak assassination. The figure's hand slipped down to his cheek, and their face materialized in front of his. He lifted his eyes to the figure's and felt a smile pull at his face.
"Natasha..." She smiled in reply. "What are you doing here...?" She sat next to him. "I was worried about you, Stark. Glad I came too, you look absolutely terrible." Tony smiled, and pulled himself to his feet, where he promptly stumbled and fell back to his previous seated position. She helped him up, leading him to his room. "You need rest..." He glanced around. "Shouldn't you still be on vacation with Barton?" Tony asked quietly. He was a little afraid of her response, but he wanted to know why she was there instead of jetting off to some wild place with Hawkeye. She sighed. "One thing at a time, Stark..." He knew better than to pry, so he left it alone.
They reached his room and she poured him into his bed, helping him remove his shoes. She turned to exit. "W-wait, Nat-" She turned back, looking him dead in the eyes. "Is everything okay?" She asked. "Don't go... Please..." He managed to get out before his throat locked up. He didn't know why he was begging her to stay; it would only torture him more. But for some reason, Tony needed her there. She nodded and pulled a chair close to him. He didn't break the silence for the longest time. When he finally did, he wished he hadn't.
"Nat... You know I'd quit drinking for you right..?" She smiled. "Tony, you're drunk. Stop saying nonsense." "No, Natasha, I'd really quit drinking for you..." Her face changed. "Tony..." He stopped her. "Please... Let me believe you'd actually love me if I did stop. Just... Don't ruin my dreams..." She sighed. "Just get some sleep, Tony..."
He fell asleep shortly after. Natasha sat in the chair, watching his chest rise and fall, the light glowing softly with his breath. She looked at his face, and smiled. Truth was, she'd had a fight with Barton over Tony. Barton absolutely hated how much she cared for Tony, wishing she'd only focus on him. She couldn't bring herself to stop caring about the man in the iron suit though. He was troubled and soft, once you'd gotten past his selfish exterior. The suit did more than protect his body, she had a hunch he used it to protect his emotions too. Stark wasn't one to profess his love to anyone, yet he'd done just that to Natasha. How could she do anything less than return the favor? She leaned over slowly and kissed him, before laying her head on his chest. The beat of his heart soothed her, and she found herself dreaming in no time at all.
Tony woke up earlier than usual, unsure of the night before. It felt like a blissful dream, one where Natasha had actually sat with him when he slept. It wasn't until he felt the person next to him shift, that he realized it hadn't been. Looking over, he saw Natasha's small frame curled into him. She must have been exhausted... He smiled to himself and brushed her hair behind her ear. Her eyes opened slowly, staring into his. A soft blush crossed her porcelain skin and he laughed softly. "Please tell me I didn't do something bad last night." Tony said. She yawned. "You professed your love to me, if you consider that bad." She watched him closely, gauging his reaction. What he'd said last night, was it true? Did he really care for her..? "How is that bad?" He asked quietly. She smiled softly and leaned in to kiss him. His face lit up in surprise. "It isn't bad, mister Stark. It isn't bad at all."