Disclaimer: I wish I owned these guys but alas, it isn't so.

A/N: School is starting soon. Boo. So I'll probably slow updates to about once a week.

Chapter 7

"What're you drawing?" Tony leaned over, his chin rested on Steve's bony shoulder.

"You," Steve admitted, flipping shut his sketchbook and rolling over so he was lying next to Tony's warm body. He was always cold these days, even after Tony had fixed the radiator.

"Ooh, can I see?" Tony reached for it around Steve and Steve curled around his sketchbook defensively, keeping his back to Tony's warm middle.

"No, you can't look at it," He said, grabbing Tony's hands when they continued to search for the book. His hands always felt incredibly thin in Tony's. It wasn't as if Tony's hands were large or anything, they were just calloused and capable, and Steve's own slender fingers always felt weak by comparison.

"But Stebe…" Tony whined, placing warm kisses on the back of his neck. "Please?"

"Just because you kiss me doesn't mean that I'm going to tell you yes," Steve said, though it was entirely untrue.

"Liar," Tony nipped the back of his neck in retaliation. Steve rolled over and caught his lips with his own, hands going to Tony's hips to pull him closer.

Steve woke up abruptly, gasping for breath. He supposed it wasn't as bad as having a nightmare but these dreams, and his reactions to them, were embarrassing. Yes, he knew he had an obnoxiously painful crush on his teammates. Because Tony was, well, Tony. He was loud and obnoxious but he was also nice and funny and just, big. Not in height, but in personality. And Steve couldn't help but think that maybe Tony's personality was exactly what Steve's needed to be balanced out.

"Do you require assistance Mr. Rogers?" Jarvis asked. Steve pulled his blanket off of his legs and got to his feet.

"No, I'm fine Jarvis. And I told you to call me Steve," He chastised, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. There was no way he was going back to sleep after a dream like that and he might as well burn off all of his extra energy now, before everyone was awake. "Would you tell Tony that I've gone for a run, if he asks?"

"Of course," Jarvis assured him. Steve pulled on his sneakers and he swore, as he left, that Jarvis continued, saying, "There is no doubt that he will ask."

Well, at least Steve had an AI rooting for him.

"Hi," Tony said and Steve just about jumped out of his skin. Tony laughed, a loud joyous noise that Steve absolutely adored, and the lights flickered on dimly. "Sorry, I thought you saw me."

"What are you doing up so early?" Steve asked, sitting down a fair distance away from Tony at the table because he wasn't sure how nice he smelled right now.

"Drinking coffee," Tony replied easily. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Going for a run," Steve replied just as easily. He stared at Tony through the darkness, noticing how young he looked in the dim light. "Thanks for helping with Bucky's arm."

"Eh, he's my friend too, Steve," Tony waved off his gratitude with a careless wave.

Suddenly the lights flickered on and both of the men jumped as Natasha sauntered into the room.

"Why were you two sitting in the dark talking?" She asked, not looking at them as she helped herself to some of Tony's coffee. She turned around with a mug clutched between her hands and stared in shock at Tony. "Stark, did you get plastic surgery while we were sleeping?"

"No," Tony said stiffly, rubbing a hand along his facial hair.

"Then why do you look so young?" Clint asked, jumping out of the vent.

"Because that's the way I look." Tony said defensively.

"You do not look like you're in your twenties," Natasha said. "At least usually."

"Leave him alone," Steve said, trying not to let his desperate need to protect Tony show through. He stood up and walked to the fridge. "I'm making pancakes, who wants them?"

As he mixed the batter to the chorus of 'me's, he pretended that the grateful look Tony sent him did not, absolutely not, make his heart flutter.

Because that would be just ridiculous.