Disclaimer: You know the drill. I own nothing, Marvel owns everything.
A/N: I would love reviews. Just love them.
Chapter 9
Steve was on cloud eight.
Now, he knew that it was cloud nine. He was not clueless, no matter what lies Tony was going around telling about how he didn't know how to work the dishwasher. So yes, he knew that the technical term was on cloud nine. But he was pretty sure to be on cloud nine you were supposed to have everything you ever wanted.
He didn't.
Sure, he had Bucky back for at least three weeks by now, and thinking that every time made him feel like his head was being pulled above water he was previously drowning in, and he had a family. He had people he could tease and be teased back by, someone who would spar with him just as easily as they would lounge lazily in front of the television with. And he had food, something that someone who lived through the nineteen thirties would never take for granted. For goodness' sake, he could actually run up the stairs without passing out from a lack of oxygen.
His life was great.
But it could have been better.
He knew he was selfish for thinking that, because he had been given so much already, but it was kind of hard when he was sitting on the couch, his eyelids starting to droop closed, the TV playing softly in front of him, his team around him, and Tony leaning comfortably against his shoulder, his soft hair gently tickling Steve's chin in his sleep.
He was probably a terrible person for taking advantage of this, but he couldn't help but wrap an arm around Tony's waist, pulling him closer. Tony shifted in his arms until he was almost on Steve's lap, nuzzling into Steve's neck.
If you asked anyone else they would probably say that they didn't think Tony was one who would partake in cuddling, but it made sense to Steve in a way he couldn't explain. It was one of those things that Steve just knew about Tony without knowing how he knew, like how he knew Tony slept sprawled across the bed, or how he hated socks with surprising passion.
It was kind of like the dreams he was continuing to have, every night. They were unexplainable, but they made such sense, in a weird way. The Tony in Steve's dreams was exactly like the Tony not in Steve's dreams. For instance, one night he dreamed of Tony telling him that he liked his sandwiches halved into triangles and the next day when he did the same without thinking, he was surprised to find Tony smiling at him and telling him that was his favorite.
It was confusing, and not only because Steve was always skinny Steve in his dreams. It was far too confusing to think of when Steve was so close to being asleep. So he was content to just close his eyes and bask in the heat of Tony's body leaning against his.
When Steve woke up he was on his back on the couch, warm and comfortable despite the fact that the lumps of the cushions did not match up with the natural contours of his body. Something shifted on top of him, arms wrapping around his middle, and Steve froze, cautiously opening his eyes.
Oh God. It was Tony.
Steve had assumed that Tony would have eventually gotten off when he had woken up in the middle of the night. Or that he would have woken up and come to his sense. Not that they would wake up together.
Tony moved again, clearly waking up, and Steve steeled himself for what could quite possibly be the worst conversation of his life. Tony's brown eyes flickered open, squinted at Steve, and then shut again. Repeated the process.
"Oh, Steve," Tony said, scooting quickly off of Steve's lap.
"Morning Tony," Steve said, rubbing his neck awkwardly and pulling his legs in towards his chest so Tony could sit on the end of the couch. He searched for words, but he was at a loss, so he finally gathered his courage and just leaned forward, pressing his lips to Tony's.
It was short and chaste and Steve's shyness caught up with him quickly, so he leaned back and looked at Tony.
"I can't," Tony confessed, standing up and nearly running away from him.
Steve thought that his heart was broken when he woke up and realized everyone he loved was long gone. No, his heart was only splintered then.
This was what a broken heart felt like.