Steve flinched back, the look on his face painted in shades of pain and guilt. The horrified look as the revelation hit the soldier...it took all the gratification out of Tony. A migraine built behind tired brown eyes and that flutter of self loathing and doubt made a half hearted vicious whisper in Tony's ear.

Maybe if this chased Steve off then maybe Tony could go back to his isolation and they'd finally leave him alone. No one to betray or hate you if no one was around.

Shock reverberated through Tony's body when warmth suddenly engulfed him, pulled him towards a strong chest where it felt like the most fantastic heat lived. Tony blinked at the space past Steve's shoulder as the reality of the hug and how quickly the soldier had crossed the space between them set in.

"I'm sorry, Tony...I'm so sorry," Steve breathed so close to Tony's ear it made the genius shiver. "I should have noticed."

No, no, no. Steve wasn't supposed to be apologizing, he was supposed to be running. Or just get angrier with Tony. Just like everyone else he'd managed to run off.

Tony's vision swam out of focus at the words and he pressed his face to Steve's shoulder for a moment to stop the hot tears rolling down his cheek and prayed at the same time that they wouldn't soak through Steve's motorcycle jacket to the man's skin.

"It wasn't your responsibility," Tony tried to say dismissively, his throat tight as he tried to pat Steve awkwardly as a sign to let go.

"Shut up," Steve said firmly instead, tightening his arms around Tony in response. "Stop acting like you don't need anyone for five seconds, Tony. You deserve that."

It shouldn't have, but the permission loosened some string in Tony's muscles and he finally relaxed into Steve's arms, grateful and so exhausted as he finally let his arms wrap around Steve's lower back. His forehead fell on Steve's shoulder and everything went black.

Tony shot awake with a shock, hands fisting in the sheet pressed around him. Sweat beaded under his hair as wild eyes took in the interior of his own bedroom. Confusion creased the genius's forehead, wondering if the whole thing had been a strange, sleep deprived dream.

"Friday," Steve asked hoarsely. "Has anyone been in the tower?"

"Still is, boss," Friday answered, quieter than usual. "Even tucked you into bed when you passed out."

That's when Tony's eyes landed on Steve.

The soldier was asleep in a large chair obviously moved from the old Avengers commons room. The chair was placed a fair distance from Tony's bed, next to the door. Motorcycle jacket draped over Steve's front as a makeshift blanket, feet propped up on an overflowing laundry basket. It was unnerving that Steve felt comfortable enough to sleep in the same room as Tony. Then again, it sounded like Tony had passed out in his arms earlier, so the soldier probably figured fair was fair.

Idiot.

Tony rolled his shoulders, much of the sleep deprived tension not so much vanished but less painfully present. He was missing his dress shirt and shoes and Tony snorted softly, seeing clearly how Steve's expression must have been a riot of concern and indecision on whether he should get Tony down to his pants and undershirt or not.

"How long have I been out?" Tony asked, quieter this time, so as not to rouse the soldier, yet. He grabbed an earpiece from his bedside table and pressed it in so Friday's voice would go private mode.

"12 hours. The Cap'n kept himself busy for about 8 of those before passing out in here," Friday reported.

Tony cursed under his breath. Noticing the glass of water and 2 advil waiting for him on the bedside table as well. He took them on his way to the bathroom and shut the door with a quiet click.

The mirror didn't exactly show the carefree man he'd been a few months ago. On the verge of marrying Pepper and daring to think about kids after intentionally shoving an unnecessary arc reactor back into his chest. He dragged the front of his wife beater down to look at the glittering blue and silver cleanly inserted into his chest. Without it, he wouldn't have even been prepared for the attack on New York that day, been useless to help Strange. Little good that did in the long run. Thanos won that day and Tony nearly died before he could help bring the others back.

Shaking off memories he'd rather not dwell on, he ran the sink and splashed his face.

"Friday, pull up video from the last 12 hours."

The mirror flickered to life in front of him as the kitchen video log came up. It showed pretty much what Tony had expected. The panic attack, Tony lashing out afterwards and then the hug. A few seconds after he returned the hug, Tony saw himself slowly slip out of consciousness and become dead weight in Steve's arms.

The look on Steve's face actually made Tony smirk, the expression of panic and how he gave Tony's limp body a little shake to see if he was awake was amusing as hell. The bridal carry Steve had to sweep Tony's unconscious body into a moment later bloomed heat on the genius neck but he tampered it down as he watched the cameras track Steve's progress to Tony's room.

The whole thing was uneventful from theer and as Tony had expected, Steve looked torn before getting dress shirt and shoes off. Tony was losing interest in the video and started to get his toothbrush under the sink faucet. He'd been black out drunk enough times to know this was all really normal, necessary procedure actions.

Then an unusual movement caught Tony's attention and brought his eyes back up to the video in time to see Steve lean down over him in the video and pressing a lingering kiss on the genius' forehead.

What the fuck?!

Author's Note: Reviews are love and let me know how the stories doing! 3