At 4 AM the building was finally, relatively, quiet; at least the top few floors, and the other several were being cleared out by maybe-that-weird-new-intern-or-who-cared-because-it-wasn't-his-problem-right-now. The rest of the team had left, or were just making their way down, but again who cared, it wasn't Tony's problem, it was J.A.R.V.I.S.'s problem, and Tony wanted to fucking sleep.
He sighed in ecstasy as his worn body hit the mattress, almost instantly falling asleep behind the dark embrace of his eyelids and "Sorry to disturb you, Master Stark, but it appears you still have a stray guest."
Tony jolted. "Augh, you deal with it," he groaned, clutching a pillow over his head and digging frustrated fingers into it.
"Usually I would, but you might want to see this person off yourself."
Tony rolled over lazily and glared at the ceiling. Where did he get off telling Tony what he might or might not want to do when he wanted to sleep?
Arguing with an AI at this hour of the morning seemed pointless and stressful, so Tony got up and trudged through the 92nd story to- "Damn...J.A.R.V.I.S., were you gonna tell me where they were?"
"One of the older rooms, sir."
"Well that's very specific, thanks so much for all your h-" And suddenly Tony felt more awake as he headed right for the room in which the Captain had barricaded himself in earlier, swung around the doorframe and there he was. Lying on the couch, clutching a throw-pillow that Pepper had left behind, face lit only by the light bleeding in from outside the room.
He chuckled. The poor kid. He knew Steve didn't want to come, didn't want anything to do with some insane Hollywood-style party in some big ugly building in New York, but of course it was obligatory. It was expected of him, of them, at the expense of Steve's comfort, and so Steve had planned to get away with the bare minimum and lock himself in this ungodly out-dated room that should have been demolished during the battle. Should I wake him up? he thought, quickly deciding he didn't want to be responsible for ruining Steve's sleep. He didn't exactly look peaceful-arms rigidly clinging to the pillow, face set-but it would still be kinda rude to wake him, right? Instead, the kinder thing to do would be to pull that folded red blanked over Steve's body and tuck him in, demand a glass of water from J.A.R.V.I.S. to put at his bedside for the morning and maybe give that baby angel face a little kiss goodnigh-
Wow, I'm tired as fuck.
He did the blanket thing, and considered about the glass-of-water thing, and turned to leave the room when he heard a rustle of fabric and a shuddering breath. "Bucky! Bucky..."
"Fantastic," Tony muttered, concern seeping in through his annoyed tone.
"Nn...Stark!"
Tony clenched his teeth, still turned away from the other. "He needs to give it up..."
"Stark...Tony! Tony Stark..."
He turned at the mention of his name, eyes wide in the dark and stood by the sofa and the Captain writhing on top of it.
"No, no! Aughh!" A sob.
"Captain!" Tony clamped a hand on Steve's shoulder, shaking him. "Captain, I'm right here." Murmurs tore through Steve's lips and clenched teeth with violence to match his tremors. "Captain, come on. Wake up. Steve."
Steve's body collided with Tony's. Arms clamped around him and stubby nails pressed into his back and Tony couldn't move but for being rocked by his and Steve's rapid breathing. He felt dampness from Steve's arms, and from his eyes nested in Tony's neck, and he felt Steve's whole body tremble as he gasped for air as though he had been drowning.
Breathing didn't come too easily under the supersoldier's crushing grip, but Tony managed and whispered, "Steve?"
Steve's chest stopped mid-swell, and he exhaled heavily, nearly going limp against Tony before his arms slinked off and he sat back, eyes tired and bloodshot and confused and his shoulders drooping. "You're...I..."
"It was a bad dream," Tony explained simply, resting a comforting hand on the sweat-dampened sleeve of his shirt. "You're at Stark Tower. It's four in the Thor-damn morning, and you're safe. N'kay?"
Steve blinked, chest heaving once, twice in attempt to cleanse the tightness in his chest. His eyes fluttered closed, and he lied back down on the sofa. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to just fall asleep like that...I can get going in a minute..."
"That's an incredibly ridiculous idea," Tony said. "Didn't you hear what time it was? No, get up off your ass."
Eyebrows wrinkling, Steve cracked open a curious eye at Tony.
"Come on, up off your ass," Tony repeated, holding out a hand for Steve to grab. "Let's get you in an actual bed."
The closest one was Tony's own. So he led the lead-footed soldier to his bed. Steve had just taken off his shoes when Tony returned with a glass of water. "Thank you..."
"Yeah, nothing," Tony dismissed, turning. "If you need me I'll b-" A whimper cut his sentence short. He turned back around to look at Steve, who was now enthralled with his glass of water, and sighed. "How...intense...?"
"Most realistic dream I've ever endured," Steve rasped, eyes downcast. "I...I really thought you were dead. I saw...it was so vivid..." He cringed.
"You don't have to retell it," Tony insisted. Silence, for a moment, as Tony tried to construct the right words to make it not sound like he was talking to a child. "Well...uh...You know, I'm kind of a diva. I can't sleep when I'm not in my own bed, so, no homo but it looks like we're gonna share. Good?"
Steve nodded, trying to look nonchalant, but Tony could almost see the stress leave Cap's body as he crawled in to the other side of the vast bed.
Both settled and soon the room was dark, and Steve apologized before murmuring across the mattress, "I'm just...so happy to see you alive. I could kiss you."
"Well then why don't you?" The words slipped through Tony's half-conscious lips before he had thought it through. Yet he didn't correct himself. There was a pause, and then a rustle, and he felt a warm hand caress his right cheek and a pair of chapped lips kiss his left.
Before Steve could pull away Tony felt for his face and held it there, blinking up in the dark. Once he could see the dark outline of Steve's lips, he pressed his to them, placing his other hand on Steve's at his cheek.
They separated with a shuddering breath on Steve's part, and there was a soft ffp as he fell back to his spot without another word.
A/N - Been awhile since I've been on FF. A huge while.
So...this is a chapter two just because so many of you decided to follow this story. It was originally intended as a one-shot, and based on the song "Fast Times at Clairemont High" by Pierce the Veil, but I got enough requests/urges/inspiration to continue. There might even be a chapter three, but that's pushing it.
Hope you hath enjoyed!