Disclaimer: I do not own this wonderful fandom or these equally wonderful boys.
Summary: When Steve is asleep, Tony catches a glimpse of his sketchbook. Established Stony, pure fluff!
A/n: I had this idea a long time ago (it was actually my first Stony idea ever and I'm writing it last, lol how ironic is that) and I guess I'm just now writing it because it's about 4 AM and I can't sleep. SO. I hope you enjoy it!
It was normally late at night when Tony got done with his work in the lab. Tonight was no exception. (Well, technically, it was 3 o'clock in the morning, but Tony didn't like to dwell on specifics.) The billionaire removed his goggles from his face and placed them on his desk. He rubbed his weary eyes, picking up his coffee mug and guzzling down the last few drops in a poor attempt for another caffeine fix. Steve kept telling Tony that if he drank that much coffee on a regular basis, it would really screw up his sleep pattern (both things Tony had problems with anyway, so he really saw no reason to stop).
Speaking of Steve, the super-soldier always nagged Tony that he was spending too much time in his lab. Tony went on to explain about how he was a scientist, and that was what scientists did because they really didn't like to be out in the world with regular people when they could just be surrounded by mechanics and machines and, well, science. Steve rolled his eyes, and made Tony promise to at least try to stop spending so much time working himself to death and to start sleeping more.
This was one of those rare days that Tony complied to Steve's request. True, it was 3 AM, but to stop working at 3 AM was an improvement on Tony's part. Only for Steve.
Tony couldn't help but smile at the thought of his super-solider and how much he worried about Tony. They had been going steady for a couple months now, and although their relationship was still a little new, it had gotten serious pretty fast. Tony had never felt anything like what he felt for Steve for anyone in his life before, but Tony isn't about to admit that, because he's 98% sure that if he says it out loud, then Clint will somehow hear it and then Tony will never hear the end of it.
Tony, now upstairs, passed the kitchen, the living room, and the study, his eyelids now getting heavier with each step. He's basically in a bee-line for his bed and maybe he should start listening to Steve more about this whole sleep thing—
Wait. Tony blinks, shakes his head in order to force himself to wake up as he backtracks back to the study. The door was cracked open, and Tony distinctly remembered leaving it shut.
Curiosity overriding fatigue, the billionaire pushed the door open and was slightly surprised at what he saw. Steve Roger, the almighty Captain America and current love of Tony's life, was passed out, slumped over a desk, using his folded arms as pillows. The lamp on the desk was still lit, so Tony guessed that Steve hadn't been asleep for long, but holy shit, Steve was out cold.
Tony couldn't help but smile warmly. At least one of them was getting proper rest. Tony shouldn't wake him up, but it really would be no fun if he was in bed all by himself without his big, cuddly Cappie-poo, and fuck, Tony really must be sleep deprived if he was calling Steve his Cappie-poo.
Tip-toeing into the study and trying to make as little noise as humanly possible, Tony approached Steve. He found that it helped if he pretended that he was a ninja. Or Clint. Because Clint was basically a ninja himself, only evil because the bastard would sometimes pop up out of nowhere and it wasn't normal, Tony swears.
Tony is now standing over the soldier, and tries hard not to care about the way Steve's hair falls in front of his eyes, how he's in only a thin white T-shirt and a pair of red and blue striped pajama pants, how his eyelashes are so long and how his lips are red and slightly ajar. Damn it, even when he's asleep, Steve looks so fucking adorable it hurts.
It's sometime during the time that Tony is staring at Steve's mouth that he realizes that the soldier is drooling.
"Aw, c'mon Cap, not on my desk," muttered Tony, only then he notices that there's something else that is half-under Steve's arms. A book. Wait, no, not a book. A notebook. A sketchpad. Steve's sketchpad.
Tony knew how much Steve liked to draw, and Tony knew that he was good because Steve would occasionally show him a drawing or two, but other than that, Tony rarely got to see anything that's inside it. At first, it used to drive Tony crazy. He kept asking (begging) Steve to show him what else was in the notebook, but when Steve refused, Tony actually attempted to steal it out of the Captain's clutches. It resulted in one of their first mini-fights, and long story short, it was a bad idea. So Tony left Steve's sketchpad alone and quit pestering Steve about it, but he still desperately wanted to know what was so private in there that he couldn't show Tony?
Tony bit his lip, seeing his opportunity and debating whether or not to seize it. If he saw Steve's drawings and complemented Steve on them, then maybe Steve would let him see them more often…? In Tony's bleary mind, it was a good enough excuse, so he gently tugged the pad out from under the sleeping solider, who mumbled something but other than that remained dormant.
"Alright, Capsicle," said Tony quietly, opening the sketchpad, "let's see what you got."
At first, the drawings were things Tony would have expected from Steve—flowers, fruit, the city skyline, trees—and he was slightly disappointed. He flipped through a few more pages, finding nothing that Tony thought was appropriate for Steve to freak out like he did whenever Tony tried to look at his drawings. Tony was about to give up and just set it down when he flicked one more page and saw a familiar face staring back at him.
Him. Steve had drawn him. And it was damn good, too. The drawing was simply a profile, as if Steve was trying to get the hang of drawing Tony. The billionaire flipped to the next page and found yet another picture of himself. This time, the Tony-drawing was leaning over something, goggles on his face and expression one of deep concentration, like he normally did whenever he was in his lab. Had Steve been spying on him, sketching him when he wasn't looking?
Tony turned the page. The next one was of him, asleep on the couch. Tony guessed that he had probably been drunk whenever Steve had drawn this because Tony never looked that rumpled unless he was drunk. Plus, why else would he be on a couch when he had a nice, Steve-occupied bed to sleep in?
The next sketch was of Tony, sitting on the couch and clutching...well, it looked like two blobs in his lap as he stared intensely forward. Tony frowned, turning the picture this was and that, trying to figure out what exactly he was supposed to be holding. He tried to remember whenever he had seen Steve with his sketchbook recently, but the only time that he could remember was when they had movie night and Clint had rented Paranormal Activity. Then it hits Tony that those two blobs are supposed to be Steve's feet. Tony nearly grins, finding it ironic that Steve can basically draw anything except a part of himself.
Tony leafs through the rest of the pictures, finding some of Natasha, Bruce, Thor and Clint, but most of them are of him. Tony thinks that it's kind of awesome that Steve secretly sketches him, almost like an old fashioned paparazzi. Its then that Tony realizes once again how much he absolutely loves the man that's currently passed out in front of him, and the billionaire can't help but smile.
Closing the sketchpad and tucking it under his arm, Tony puts his hand on Steve's shoulder and gently shakes him awake.
"Hey, Cap. Steve! Steve, wake up! C'mon buddy, you're going to drown yourself in drool," says Tony fondly. Steve jerks awake and blinks owlishly at him.
"Tony?" asks Steve, only he yawns in the middle of it so it didn't really come out like a name, but Tony knows what he means. "What are you doing here? What time it is?"
"Time to go to bed," says Tony, helping the Captain to his feet. Steve, even though he's supposed to be perfect and whatnot, gets incredibly uncoordinated at times, and this would be one of said times, so Tony has to be careful that he doesn't trip and fall flat on his face—or worse, fall on Tony and crush him.
They are halfway down the hallway when Steve suddenly says, "Wait, I don't have my sketchbook." Or at least that's what he means (or what Tony thinks he means). For most people, Steve is hard to understand when he's tired, but Tony had become a pro at the language of Sleepy-Super-Solider-inese.
"I've got it," Tony answers, opening the door to their bedroom and ushering Steve inside.
"Okay," says Steve, now becoming harder to move now that he's seen the bed because he basically shuts down and Tony had to practically drag him over to it. Laying Steve down and tucking him in, Tony walks around to the other side of the bed and is about to get in when Steve asks, "Hey Tony?"
"Yes?"
"Did you look at any of my sketches?"
"Um…" Tony pauses, halfway in bed and halfway out, not sure exactly how to answer. Sure, Steve is half-asleep now, but in the morning when he's alert and can think straight things will be different.
"It's okay if you did," Steve tells him, and rolls over onto his side so that his back is facing Tony. "I know 'm not the best artist, but you just have a beautiful face."
At this, Tony has to bite back a laugh. He can't stop from allowing a grin to come onto his face, though, and as he slips under the covers he places an open-mouth kiss to the back of Steve's neck.
"I think you're better than John Keats," breathed Tony onto Steve's neck, smirking when he feels the other man shudder slightly.
"To-ny," nags Steve, "John Keats was a poet."
"I knew that," replied Tony. "I was just testing you." Steve snorted. "What I meant to say was I think you're better than Van Gogh."
Steve, apparently happier with this answer, made a little noise and settled down into the blankets. Tony listened to his breathing even out and he couldn't help but feel blessed for having Steve in his life. He smiled slightly, then got comfortable in the blanks and drifted off to sleep.
A/n: I'm having a seriously hard time ending these things. D: I'm sorry! But other than that, I hope you liked it! Please review!