The captain rolled his eyes, "Contrary to popular belief, not everyone is too keen on your pranks. Except Clint."
"Well, it seems like Clint is more fun than you!" Tony teased.
"Har har," Steve mocked back, then he got serious. "Tony, you look like you're about to pass out."
Tony grimaced; he'd hoped that he could hold it off for a while. There were too many unanswered questions, details, that he needed to know. But by the expression on Steve's face, he wasn't going to change his mind. He sighed heavily. "Fine, Cap, I'll rest like a good patient."
"Okay," Steve seemed at little relieved when Tony agreed to just relaxing. "Do you want to stay on the couch or move to the bed?" He wasn't sure which would be more comfortable for the other man.
Tony shifted slightly, contemplating. The bed would probably be a little more comfortable, and he would have more room if he were to roll around or something.
"I'll help you move to the bedroom if you need me to," Steve offered
"I-" He was about to tell Steve that he could make it to the bedroom on his own, then thought better of it. "Sure."
Steve grabbed him by the arms and pulled him to his feet, taking one arm and wrapping it around his shoulders. "We could just use a wheelchair if you don't want me carting you."
"Yeah, I'll pass on that thanks," Tony gasped a little at the sharp lightning from his ribs and head. He didn't realize just how much weight he was letting Steve hold. The man was practically carrying him.
Steve could see the pain plain as day on Tony's face, so he tried his best to be careful with the man. He didn't want to hurt him even more. "Here we go," he said as they entered the bedroom and he helped Tony to the bed.
The billionaire let out a groan as he sat down, the sharp tinges still radiating in the rib area. "Thanks," he mumbled and glanced around. The bedroom was the same as he remembered it- except now, a wedding photo sat on the nightstand, on his own side of the bed. Tony stared at the wedding picture. He looked happy. He looked happier than he'd seen himself in years. As his conscious began to drift, he felt his stomach twist, and not from nausea this time. He wished he could be that Tony again. So did Steve, he could bet, too. He felt Steve take off his shoes and Tony didn't say anything. He just crawled into the covers and buried his face into the pillow and sighed in contentment. Normal.
He was almost asleep when he felt a kiss being laid on his head, and Tony was still too tired to care.
Steve watched as Tony finally drifted off to sleep and he smiled at how content his husband looked. He picked up Tony's hand and kissed, and whispered, "I love you," before backing up, deciding to just go wait somewhere else while Tony slept. He idly wondered where he himself would be sleeping now- would Tony think it awkward to share a bed now? He figured he'd be staying on the couch for a bit, until, hopefully, the other man regained his memory. He shuffled over to the long couch and lay down. Not that the couch wasn't comfy, comparing it to what it could be. He knew from experience that Tony could literally pass out anywhere if he was tired enough, so of course they'd made measures so that at least Tony wouldn't wake up with a sore back if he happened to miss the bed.
He dozed through a fitful sleep, his mind riddled with possibilities of the future, and a lot of them weren't good. Soon thoughts became dreams and the next thing he knew, someone was shaking his shoulder.
"Steve?"
"Mmph."
"Its time for dinner. Bruce and Thor worked damn hard on it," Natasha's voice rang with humor. "Should I wake Tony up?"
Steve rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Um," he thought for a moment, remembering how exhausted Tony had looked earlier. "just let him sleep. He was really tired," he said and then stood up.
"Alright. We'll save a plate for him," Nat nodded as she headed for the kitchen.
"What did they make, anyway?
Natasha smirked. It had been more of Bruce cooking with Thor exclaiming that he wanted to help, but the scientist refused to let him minus checking the oven. Bruce was a perfectionist in his cooking, even if he wasn't much of an expert on it himself. "Like Thanksgiving dinner all over again,"
Steve groaned. "My stomach is still recovering."
"Just think of Christmas, now, and then you'll really be in over your head," Natasha joked. "So, steak, corn, veggies, fruit salad, dinner rolls..."
"That's like 10 pounds gained right there." the captain laughed.
"Steve! Natasha! So glad you could join the meal that we made," Thor announced as they walked into the dining room, giving a sideways glare to Bruce, who shrugged at them and continued to set the table. Clint was sneaking around the kitchen where the food was, probably snacking on what he could.
It was almost like a traditional Avengers dinner again. Except Tony wasn't there.
Steve smiled as he walked in, looking at the tons of food that had been prepared. "You guys always go overboard," he said and then laughed, showing he didn't really mind it that much. He was moving to sit down when he heard someone else enter the room and he turned, eyebrow raising. "Tony! What're you-"
The genius stumbled into the room, unsteady on his feet and grasping at his midsection as he headed for the table. "Smelled food," he mumbled sleepily, allowing Steve to support him (hell, practically carry him) to a chair. "Wanted to eat." He groaned in pain and closed his eyes, but he opened them after a moment and surveyed what was being put on the table. "Well damn. Can I have some coffee with this?"
Thor grinned at the opportunity. "Jane Foster taught me how to make coffee. Where's the pot that the coffee broils in and the powder?"
"Top cupboard, to the right," Steve told him, ignoring Tony's irritated glance at him for answering for him. No doubt Tony was feeling vulnerable at this point, so he made a mental note to let Tony do his own thing.
"You're not gonna blow it up or anything, are you?" Tony asked dryly. "I like this kitchen."
"Your faith in me is still the same, friend," Thor said cheerily, hooking up the pot and pouring the coffee powder in. Tony shook his head, but he was smiling a little. Steve was glad that at least he was loosening up a little with the team.
Clint entered the room then, his mouth full of something. Natasha smacked the back of his head with a glare. "You're supposed to wait until all of the food is on the table for you to eat it," she muttered, to which the archer merely shrugged.
He then turned to Tony. "How's the ribs feelin'?" He asked as he sat down.
"Sore," Tony said flatly.
"I bet," Clint said sympathetically before immediately turning his attention to the food in the kitchen again. "If we keep waiting like this, I'm going to eat it all before Natasha can carry out her threats of putting my arrows in places they don't belong."
"Am I right to believe that she will try?" Tony asked.
"Damn right, man."
"Hm," Tony nodded slightly at that before reaching out to snatch a small bite from a nearby platter. Steve playfully swatted at his hand (only because it was the good one that wasn't in a cast), but grinned nonetheless.
"Nat will kill you too, you know," he chuckled as Bruce finally entered with the last of the food.
"Nah, she's a softie to me, right Natasha?"
"Have you learned nothing about me, Mr. Stark?" Natasha mocked. "You're no exception to my wrath."
Before Tony and Natasha could get into it, Bruce placed the plate of steaks in the middle of the table. For a minute, all of them stared hungrily at the food, before the man rolled his eyes, "Have at it, you grabby fiends."
Thor was the first to grab for the steaks. He got the largest one and wasted no time tearing into it, chewing hungrily. Clint was next, stabbing his quickly, followed by Nat, who just rolled her eyes.
Steve grabbed one for himself and then looked to Tony, who was staring at the plate with a frown. It appeared that he wouldn't be able to reach it without leaving forward, which would undoubtedly hurt his ribs. "Want some help?"
Tony felt irritation bubble up again. He couldn't cut his damn steak. He felt like an invalid. "No," he said crossly.
"Um, To-" Clint began, but a look from Natasha shut him up.
Realizing he had no choice, Tony finally nodded, and Steve cut his steak in pieces and buttered his bread and got up and went to the living room and brought back a pillow, propping it behind Tony's back so he wouldn't have to strain so much. As everyone ate and awkwardly pretended not to notice, Tony muttered a thank you and wolfed down a couple of bites with his good arm.
Steve looked at everyone and gave a half shrug. Seemingly assured, Clint broke out into a conversation, something about a mission he'd been working with Tony a few months ago and a really good pie that they'd stopped to get on the way back. Naturally, that went into a toss of which pie flavor was the best. As it escalated, Steve couldn't help but notice how Tony was declining from the conversation.
"We'll have to get that pie again, because I'm telling you, it was amazing," Clint was saying, his mouth half full as he spoke.
Natasha rolled her eyes at him. "We get the point," she said dryly and took a bite of her steak, barely dodging Thor as he suddenly lunged forward to get another piece of meat.
Steve laughed at this, grinning at the look on Natasha's face before he glanced to Tony. Usually the two of them laughed at these kind of things together, but instead of seeing the usual smile on the other's face, he was met with a blank expression. "Tony?"
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