Both of them slept for the next ten hours. Tony hadn't realized how tired he was and the relief of having Steve next to him and safe must've lulled him into a deeper sleep than he usually got. Most of the time, his internal clock wouldn't let him get more than a few hours at a time here and there. It was probably due to his brain always running a mile a minute. But he had to admit that this rest was needed.
Tony stretched his arms over his head, trying to work some of the ever-present kinks out of his body. If people thought his suit protected him from getting bumps and bruises, they were mistaken. And even though he hadn't fought in any battles recently, he wasn't as young as he used to be. Soreness was his constant companion. Speaking of young companions…
"Tony?" Steve mumbled, rolling onto his back and rubbing his eyes with his fists. He looked like such a little boy that it took all of Tony's willpower not to comment on it.
"Morning, Spangles. Or evening. I honestly have no idea what time it is," Tony chuckled.
"It is currently 11:37PM, sir," Jarvis answered.
"Well then, a perfect time to get up."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have slept in your bed for so long," Steve mumbled, attempting to roll off the side. He didn't get far before letting out a hiss of pain and wrapping an arm around his stomach.
"If you don't take it easy for a while, I'm going to scream," Tony sighed, forcing himself off the bed and over to the side Steve was on. He helped Steve move into a seated position, making sure he was secure before backing away a little. "Contrary to popular belief, you won't lose your man card if you accept help."
"My what?"
"Nevermind."
"Sorry, I just forgot that my body was still hurting. Your bed is really comfortable," Steve admitted.
"Well, you can borrow it until I get you the same kind for your room."
"Tony, no-"
"You're right. You should pick out your own. We can do that in a few days."
"Tony-"
"You might only like this because it's the nicest you've been in. You might actually prefer something firmer or softer."
"Tony!" Steve exclaimed, holding up his hands for him to stop. "You really don't need to go to all that trouble. I'm only staying here until I'm all healed up and that'll be a week at most. There's no need to buy me anything when I can just sleep on the couch like I did before I left."
"If you think I'm going to let you sleep on the couch, you're insane. And it doesn't matter if you're here for a week, a month, or 50 years. I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure you're comfortable and feel at home. Me casa es su casa," Tony insisted, watching as Steve furrowed his brow. "That means-"
"I know what it means," Steve sighed, staring up at him. "This isn't all because of the age thing, is it? You know I've been taking care of myself for a long time."
"It's not. This is just what I do. I even built a whole lab for Bruce here to use whenever he's in town."
"Really? Well, I guess that makes sense. He'd be able to help you with projects and all of your science stuff."
"You know, I can actually do things without expecting something back in return. Not everything I do is about business or garnering favors," Tony huffed.
"Oh no, I didn't mean it like that," Steve said quickly, looking genuinely guilty for his words. "It's just, you know how I feel about not being able to reciprocate things that are done for me. And the more you do, the harder it'll be for us to get even."
"And I told you you don't have to worry about that."
"I know you said that, but it still doesn't change how I feel. Can you just try to take it easy on me? No hundred dollar furniture purchases for the foreseeable future?" Steve requested. And how was Tony supposed to say no to those big, blue eyes?
"Fine," Tony acquiesced. "But you have to try to accept some of the things I offer. If it's already here or something a normal guest would receive, it's fair game."
"I'll try," Steve agreed.
"And you know the bed was actually in the thousands, right?"
"What!"
"Come on, let's go into the kitchen. I'm starving," Tony chuckled, pulling Steve up off of the bed. He waited until Steve fully had his feet under him before guiding him to the kitchen. He was walking pretty well after he got those first morning kinks out, but Tony was sure there was still some pain he was trying hard to mask. Nothing better to distract from discomfort than food.
Tony deposited Steve on top of one of the stools at the counter, then made his way over to the fridge. He'd been gone long enough that any leftovers weren't good anymore. He might risk it, if he was alone, but Tony wasn't going to take the chance of giving Steve food poisoning, on top of everything else. He'd have to make something simple from what he had.
"How does breakfast for dinner sound? Or breakfast for breakfast? Our schedules are a bit wonky at this point and I'm not sure how to consider this time," Tony mumbled, grabbing a few supplies. "We can do eggs, bacon, pancakes, waffles, I might even be able to eke out a crepe-"
"Waffles?" Steve asked softly, sounding a bit awed.
"You a waffle guy, Rogers?" Tony asked, slipping that information into the Steve log in his mind.
"I'd never had one until I won this waffle iron in an art contest. Bucky and I ate quite a few burnt batches before we got the hang of it," Steve chuckled wistfully. "You still have those?"
"Probably not the kind you're thinking about, but yeah. A waffle maker is a pretty standard small kitchen appliance."
"Well, it was a big deal to us. Nothing could beat a waffle, especially when we could get our hands on some syrup," Steve grinned.
"Your wish is my command," Tony replied, scouring the cupboards for wherever the little machine was stashed away. He knew he had one, since Pepper went through a very short phase where she was determined to get him to eat breakfast every morning. She got almost every gadget available at Williams-Sonoma in hopes that he would find something to get into a routine with. It hadn't worked, but he kept everything.
"You really don't have to go to all that trouble."
"Found it!" Tony declared triumphantly, holding the thing above his head. "Prepare to be amazed."
"Do you cook often?" Steve asked, the doubt clear in his voice.
"No. But where I lack in experience with cooking, I make up for it in experience eating," Tony smirked, setting the waffle maker down next to an outlet. "And I've got the internet to help me."
"I guess no one uses cookbooks anymore."
"You and your obsession with killing trees," Tony gasped, covering his heart with his hand. "You can't resist the digital world. Come with me to the dark side."
"I don't think there's anything wrong with keeping things simple," Steve defended.
"And by simple you mean boring?"
"You're trying to rile me up, aren't you?"
"Maybe a little."
"Well, it's not going to work."
"Come on. I'm just trying to pick up where we left off with our banter. I miss it."
"And it has to involve teasing me?"
"Low hanging fruit and all that," Tony shrugged, shooting Steve a sly smile.
"Am I that easy of a target?"
"It's what I do with all of my friends. Rhodey will tell you, when you finally meet him."
"Do you do the same with Pepper as well?"
"Oh no, I'm actually afraid of her," Tony cackled, turning to grab a tablet out of a drawer. He googled waffle recipes and flipped through a few of them, judging them by the pictures instead of the ratings. Maybe it was a faulty technique, but they'd make it work. "This one looks easy enough." He flashed the screen at Steve for his approval.
"What can I do to help?" Steve asked, moving as if he was planning on getting up.
"You can sit there and heal," Tony directed, gesturing pointedly at the stool.
"I'm not a complete invalid. In fact, I'm almost back to my full strength," Steve insisted, even though he decided to stay put.
"Well, I'm not going to risk you repuncturing a lung because you stirred too aggressively," Tony scoffed. "Your role in this is consumer only."
"Tony," Steve sighed, resting his chin on his fist. He looked so much like a little kid that Tony wanted to put on his suit and find everyone responsible for hurting Steve and hurt them tenfold.
"My plan, remember?"
"So you keep saying. You mind filling me in on the details of this plan of yours?" Total annihilation of anyone who ever looked at Steve cross was the plan, but Tony couldn't say that.
"Sorry, no can do. You'll just get the instructions as we go along. And the current one is to sit there and look pretty while I whip us up some food," Tony grinned, deftly cracking an egg into a bowl.
"Are you sure you didn't get a bit of shell in there?" Steve asked, raising an eyebrow.
"How dare you? Of course I didn't!" Tony gasped, surreptitiously peeking into the bowl to make sure. He knew for a fact that Steve would eat a waffle full of shell just to be polite and never say a word about it. "I used to make the best hangover omelets when I was in college."
"Didn't you graduate before you were even old enough to legally drink?"
"I don't think you're really in a position to be judging me for age-related indiscretions."
"Mine was so I could fight in a war, not party," Steve pointed out.
"Oh well, potato tomato. Let's not split hairs," Tony waved off.
"Are you putting those in the waffles?"
"Steve, never change," Tony chuckled. He didn't know how the out of touchness that had annoyed him so much had become so damn endearing. Tony kept on with the cooking, ignoring Steve's "helpful" suggestions. He was going to leave out the cornmeal and shortening this time, but Steve could feel free to try his hand later. Tony was hungry and wanted these to be edible.
"That smells really good," Steve murmured after Tony put the first batch on. It really did, but Tony tried not to look too smug about it. He was Iron Man, of course he could use a waffle iron to perfection.
"Wait until you get a load of this," Tony bragged, grabbing a glass bottle from a cupboard and sliding it in front of Steve.
"You have syrup?" Steve asked, running his finger along the label.
"Not just any syrup. Pure maple syrup," Tony boasted.
"Wow. I once saw a man break down in the middle of the street and cry after busting a bottle of this when he slipped on some ice. Not everyone could afford it."
"Well, there's plenty more where that came from," Tony said, thinking of all the basic things that would probably seem fancy to someone like Steve. He would definitely exploit that as much as possible. Not for nefarious reasons of course. Just to win Steve over a bit easier. A new car would freak him out, but a microwave would probably blow his mind.
"It's kind of strange to be able to walk into any store and find whatever it is you want. I still remember having to search for things we really needed and not being able to get it," Steve said softly, staring down at the counter. "I wish I would've had the chance to get even a part of this for my mom. She died without ever knowing what it was like not to struggle." Tony felt his heart clench when he saw Steve brush away a tear from the corner of his eye. Waffle time was supposed to be fun.
"I think she would be proud to see how far you've come. All parents really want is to see their children thrive," Tony said, adding the next statement with a little more bitterness than he planned. "Or so I've heard."
"Tony, about Howard-"
"Oh, would you look at that. The first batch is ready. Better get them while they're hot," Tony interjected, wanting to squash the Howard talk before it got started. They weren't there yet.
"These look amazing," Steve said, leaving the last conversation where it belonged. Tony nudged him to pour as much syrup as he wanted, but of course it was barely anything. Tony was going to figure out a way to get him to indulge in something, if it was the last thing he did.
"So, how are they?" Tony asked as he watched Steve carefully cut a corner off and pop it into his mouth. Steve's eyes rolling into the back of his head was a pretty clear answer, but Tony wanted to hear the words as well. Words of affirmation was his love language after all. Well, one of them at least.
"I haven't had anything that didn't come from a machine or cafeteria since I left," Steve sighed as soon as he swallowed his first bite. Captain America couldn't talk with his mouth full. "This might be the best thing I've ever had."
"That's just your hunger talking," Tony scoffed. "No way this beats the steak I got you."
"Nothing beats homemade," Steve argued, digging in for another bite.
"Stop trying to gas me up. It will definitely work."
"I'll say whatever I need to if it means I get to keep eating this."
"Even that you'll retire from the superhero business and stay here to be my personal artist?" Tony smirked, gauging his reaction. That was the goal, wasn't it? He knew he couldn't push too far yet, but planting a few seeds couldn't hurt.
"I think it'll take more than a few waffles for that," Steve chuckled, going back to his food. It wasn't an outright refusal, so Tony counted it as a win. They kept eating as Tony browsed through other recipes, suggesting different things they could add next time. Steve thought chocolate chips would make them too unhealthy and Tony vetoed strawberries for Pepper reasons, so they ended up landing on blueberries. Making plans for the future meant Steve might stay longer, so Tony was all for putting as many things on the books as possible.
By the time the food was eaten and the dishes were in the dishwasher, Steve was starting to slump a little. Tony gently coaxed him back to his bed, only getting some token resistance from Steve, since it was in his nature to put up at least a little bit of fuss. The more he slept, the better it was in the long run for his body. He was gone as soon as his head hit the pillow and this time Tony didn't even pretend that he was going to go anywhere else. They'd figure out the rooms tomorrow, but for now, this was exactly where he needed to be. He pulled out his tablet and dimmed the screen, settling in for a long night next to Steve. There were people to contact and things to order, so he got to work. Steve was home, now Tony just had to figure out the best way to make him see it.