A Gift of Fic for quietshade!

[muccamukk]

Title: The Confessions of a Sleepless Night
Author: scrollgirl
Recipient: quietshade
Pairings: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers for New Avengers #13
Word Count: 2067
A/N: Happy holidays, quietshade! I enjoyed writing this fic, though I admit tackling 616 was a bit nerve-wracking, and I hope you enjoy reading it as well.
Summary: After flying the quinjet all night and nearly losing Steve over the Pacific, Tony's exhaustion causes him to betray his feelings to Steve.


It happens so fast. Steve stands up to get something from the back-- The quinjet's hatch blows open-- Steve gets knocked sideways-- Madame Hydra slides out of her restraints and through the hatch-- Steve tumbles after her with an aborted cry--

"No!" Jessica shouts, and dives after him.

Tony struggles to regain control of the quinjet, one eye on a thermal image of a body in free-fall, another body slowly gaining on the first. God, she won't reach him before he hits the water!

"Go after him," says Steve's nameless ninja friend, climbing over Pete to reach the cockpit. "I can fly this."

"It's not like a plane," Tony protests, though he's already unlatching his safety harness.

"Go!" the ninja yells, grabbing the stick, and Tony goes--he jumps out the hatch and races after Jessica, who has managed to break Steve's fall but is now struggling to keep them out of the cold Pacific. They're still moving at a velocity that might break their necks if they land in the water.

Tony scoops them up, one under each arm. "Gotcha." He can't feel Steve's grip on his shoulder through the armour, but the other man turns his head enough to meet Tony's gaze, blue eyes dark with adrenaline but steady with gratitude. It was a close one. Business as usual, sure, but Tony's getting really sick and tired of Steve having close calls.

Back on the quinjet, he takes the controls again and immediately begins a diagnostic to figure out how the hell Madame Hydra managed to override the hatch door. The onboard computer shows a remote hack from Jessica's terminal, but Tony personally scanned Madame Hydra from head to toe and stripped her of all electronic devices prior to Peter webbing her up. So how did she manage the hack?

They make it back to Stark Tower without further incident, thankfully, and not a moment too soon. Tony needs far less sleep than he once did, but even with Extremis he has limits to his endurance. Steve's ninja friend agrees to pursue the return to Japan to keep an eye on the Silver Samurai. The ninja also finally reveals himself--herself--as Maya Lopez aka Echo. And from Steve's look of surprise at her identity, Tony can pat himself on the back for correctly assuming that Steve believed it was Matt Murdoch under the mask the whole time.

After Lopez disappears into the early dawn, the rest of the Avengers scatter to their beds. Tony retracts the suit and walks Jarvis to his bedroom, though the older man protests that he's slept more than enough on the flight home. As a compromise, Tony brings him a cup of Darjeeling tea and leaves him to a good book. It's a reversal of their usual roles, but Tony's guilt over putting his oldest friend in danger in Osaka, and again on the quinjet, keeps him hovering anxiously until Jarvis finally kicks him out.

"Shouldn't you be in bed yourself?" asks Steve when he finds Tony slumped at the kitchen table. He's in a t-shirt and sweatpants, clearly having just come from a shower. "You flew us half way around the world after fighting a pitched battle against the Hand. I'd say you've earned some shuteye."

"Hey, Cap." Tony makes a feeble attempt to sit up straight, but he's reached the point where he's too exhausted to care that he's exhausted. "Your hair's wet," he says, rather inanely.

Steve chuckles. "Go to bed, Tony."

"You almost flattened yourself like a pancake on the Pacific," Tony replies, frowning. "You'll excuse me if I put off my beauty sleep until I've determined exactly how that woman accessed the hatch override."

The other man hesitates for a moment, then sits down next to Tony. "Is Jessica in her room?"

Tony quickly reviews the last thirty minutes of visuals from the hallway camera, because even he's not enough of a creep to install cameras in the Avengers' bedrooms. "Yes, she's in there. And her lights are off. Why'd you want to know?"

"I'm pretty sure Jessica released the hatch for Madame Hydra."

"What? Are you--" Tony is up and out of his seat, ready to-- He doesn't even know what he's ready to do, because breaking down Jessica Drew's bedroom door and shaking her until she talked would be satisfying but unlikely to net him any useful answers. "She almost got you killed!"

Steve makes a complicated face. "I've survived oceans before, Tony. Anyway, I'll speak to her in the morning, one on one. Whatever her reasons for letting Madame Hydra escape, she obviously didn't intend to put me in danger."

"No way in hell you're confronting her alone, Steve." If Spider-Woman is working for HYDRA, who knows what extreme measures she'll take in order to ensure her escape?

"She'll be more willing to talk if she doesn't feel cornered," Steve argues, and the thing is he's right and Tony knows it. Steve is the best person to get a confession out of someone who isn't straight-up trying to kill him.

"Goddammit," Tony mutters, getting up and banging through the cabinets until he finds his favourite mug under a colander. Spider-Man keeps hiding it. He fills the mug with ice water from the fridge and drains it dry. When he looks up, Steve's gaze is fixed on him, clear blue and full of concern.

"You need to rest."

Tony clutches the empty mug to his chest. "I need a drink."

For a minute, neither of them speak. Then Steve rises slowly to his feet and comes over to lean on the kitchen island next to him. "But you won't."

"It's been a really long week," Tony says tiredly, sagging a little until his shoulder brushed Steve's. He wants a drink so badly. But then, he always wants a drink. Fortunately he's Tony Stark and Tony Stark excels at multitasking. He keeps himself so busy that he doesn't have time to think about wanting a drink, about how good it would taste, the smell of it, the distinct odours of a good cognac or a bourbon or sake or beer.

But when he's tired, when his brain slows down enough to dwell on the things he's missing from his life...

"I know you won't," says Steve, sure and quiet.

Tony finally sets down his mug. "Not tonight." Or today, really, as dawn has firmly moved into morning. The sky is bright and cloudless. Below their feet, Stark Enterprise employees are trickling into their offices.

"Come on, let's get you to bed." Steve curls an arm around his waist, warm and reassuring, and guides Tony out of the kitchen and up the stairs as though Tony hadn't built this place himself and has blueprints behind his eyelids. Steve keeps his hand on Tony's hip, tucking him as they walk slowly down the long corridor to the master suite. He lets go of Tony at the door, and Tony sways forward, wanting that warmth back again.

"Don't tell me you need me to tuck you in." Steve's lips curl up in a teasing smile. It's tantalizing.

Tony stares at his mouth, wanting. "You know I do," he murmurs. "I always need you." A moment later he hears what he just said and freezes. Shit. He said that out loud.

"Tony, are you…?" Steve blinks, looking stunned. "What are you saying?"

Holding up a hand, he backs into his bedroom. "I'm exhausted, don't listen to me." He tries to close the door in Steve's face, but the other man blocks it with his foot. "Good night, Steve."

"Nuh-uh, not on your life." Steve pushes his way into the room, advancing on Tony in a way he would have appreciated given a different context. "You just told me that you want me."

"I did not!" Tony protested, his arms crossed defensively across his chest, his cheeks turning red with embarrassment. "I said I needed you," he added stiffly. "That's a whole 'nother ball of wax."

Steve just stares at him for a minute, realization dawning in his eyes. "Tony," he finally says, his voice kind. Too kind. Like he needs to let Tony down gently. "How long have you felt this way?"

"Steve..." Try as he might, Tony can't find any other words besides Steve's name. What is he supposed to say? That he's loved Steve for years and he'll die if Steve won't love him back? That he's happy with Steve's friendship and doesn't want to make things awkward between them? He chickens out and escapes into the bathroom to piss and brush his teeth, hoping Steve will be gone by the time he comes out.

No such luck. Steve's sitting on the edge of Tony's king-sized bed with the sheets turned down. Tony tries not to see that as an invitation.

"Do we really have to do this now?" He sounds pathetically close to begging, and luckily Steve has always been susceptible to Tony's particular brand of whining because the determined, hard-edged line of his jaw visibly softens.

"I won't force you to tell me anything you're not ready to tell me," he says, reaching out and catching hold of Tony's hand. "Let's just... go to bed."

This time it's Tony who is stunned. "Together? Here?" He tries to tug his hand out of Steve's grasp, but fails. Admittedly he wasn't trying very hard. When Steve smiles and draws him down to curl up in Steve's arms, Tony goes without protest. He's not certain this isn't a dream and that he isn't, in reality, slumped at the kitchen table with a crick in his neck.

"For a genius, you can be so blind sometimes," Steve whispers, shifting closer until he and Tony are sharing the same pillow, their faces mere inches apart. It takes all of Tony's hard-won courage to keep meeting that clear gaze, but he does it anyway--he owes Steve that much. "Tony, I've been half in love with you since the day you pulled me out of the ice," he goes on, a strong, callused hand sweeping up Tony's arm to cup the side of his neck. "I've wanted you for years."

"You didn't. You couldn't have." Tony would have seen it if Steve ever looked his way, even once. "What about Sharon? Or Bernie? Or that other one--Diamondback?"

Steve's eyes crinkled at the corners, his smile hidden in the dark. "You really want me to start naming your female partners, Mr. Stark? We might be here a while." He hushed Tony's grumbling and added, "I was in the army. I know the meaning of discretion. But you--I never had any notion you might be interested in men."

Tony can't help huffing a laugh under his breath. "Are you serious? Well, I suppose Jan's right about both of us having terrible gaydar. Steve, I used to have Rhodey over at the mansion all the time."

The shock on Steve's face is priceless. "Rhodey is gay?"

"Bi, please," Tony scoffs. "Though I'm fairly certain I'm the only man he's ever slept with more than once."

"I had no idea," Steve murmurs, ducking his head. "I have--no idea." He's quiet for a long time, but it's not the peaceful quiet from earlier. Lying so close together, Tony can feel the tension in his body, as though he were bracing for a blow.

There's a lump in Tony's throat he can't quite swallow. "No idea about this?" He gestures at the small space between them. "You and me? Because, Steve, I have to tell you--before my slip-up just now, I would never have dreamed of saying anything to you about my feelings, not if it meant jeopardizing our friendship. But I also can't deny that I've always wished for... something more."

He's always thought Steve's eyes were the most beautiful he's ever seen, but the look in them now, those clear blue eyes are glowing with hope and happiness and, yes, love. It takes his breath away.

"Tell me about your feelings, Tony," asks Steve, pressing his lips to Tony's forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his mouth. He settles there for a while, and their breaths mingle warmly as they kiss and kiss and kiss.

Long minutes later, after Tony has run out of air, he rests his head on Steve's shoulder and tells him exactly how he feels.