A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the late (and short) update! School's been crazy so far. You all wanted to see the tables turn and Tony comfort Steve for a change (and I was desperate to write it believe me) so here you guys go!
Everything had fallen into a rhythm. There were days when the most pressing issue was a cat stuck in a tree (Tony liked to take these on because it gave Iron Man some good press). Other days there were radioactive sewer monsters or aliens from some corner of the galaxy that made the mistake of attacking New York. The team had an unspoken rule that Sundays were for family dinners. Everyone sat around the large mahogany dinner table and passed ceramic bowls of every type of food imaginable around. Sometimes Nat and Clint were home from a mission, in which case they sported minor wounds. If Thor was around, he would end up sharing some of his Asguardian mead (strong enough to get Steve tipsy) and lead everyone in a chorus of song. Tony made sure to stick to a glass of water on those nights.
Winter rolled around and coated the mansion in a thick blanket of snow. Tony got to work on designing new suits for everyone to withstand the cold without sacrificing agility and protection. He was working late in his lab one evening, developing a new weave of fibers, when he was interrupted by Jarvis's quiet, electronic voice. "Sir."
"A little busy," Tony replied without diverting his attention from the work in front of him.
"Sir, it is none of my business-"
"Okay, but it sounds like you're about to make it your business." Tony rolled his chair over to a nearby monitor to check some of his calculations.
"Please, sir. It's about Mr. Rogers."
Tony tore his gaze from the computer and frowned. "You mean the guy with the imaginary friends and good taste in cardigans?" It was a very weak attempt at a joke. When Jarvis didn't reply, he pressed on. "What about him? Is he okay?"
"I am picking up irregularities in heart rate and blood pressure."
"Okay." Tony frowned. "So what's the matter."
"Would you like a visual feed from his room?"
"I'm flattered that you think I'm that creepy, Jarvis. Truly."
"He appears to be thrashing about." Jarvis's voice seemed to convey concern.
"So he's having a nightmare," Tony replied calmly, although he couldn't help but feel a bit worried. "Happens to the best of us."
"It might be opportune for you to be there when he awakens," Jarvis suggested.
Tony frowned. "Why do you say that?"
"You and Mr. Rogers have formed a sort of bond. It may be comforting for him to have you there when he awakens."
"It won't be, I dunno, weird?" Tony muttered. He really did want to be there for his friend, but at the same time he was worried that it might be awkward. Like, hey cap, heard you were having a nightmare. Thought I'd bring you some warm milk and cooca.
"You need to, I believe the saying goes, be cool."
"Why did I have to program so much sass into you?" Tony grumbled.
Tony wasn't sure what to do with his hands. He had milk heating up in a sauce pan on the stove and he honestly felt like the biggest idiot alive. Hey Steve! Trouble sleeping? Yeah, me too. Want some cocoa?
"You're tense," Jarvis's voice startled him. For a moment, Tony regretted installing him into every room in the house.
"Yeah, well, surprise! I feel like an idiot." Tony began pacing. "How do I even know if he'll come down here. He's probably going to just roll over and go back to bed."
"That is not his usual pattern."
"What do you mean?" Tony replied quickly. "Usual pattern? How long has he been doing this?"
"It is not every night," Jarvis replied, "But Mr. Rogers has night terrors at least twice a month and when he does he comes down to the kitchen for a drink of water before going to bed."
Tony gaped at the empty room. "And you never told me about it?"
"It did not seem pressing."
"Remind me to rewrite your priorities coding," Tony muttered as he added the cocoa powder to the milk.
A few minutes later, he heard the light ding of the elevator and held his breath. A moment later, Steve appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, sleepily rubbing his eye.
"Trouble sleeping?" Tony offered lamely.
Steve jolted a bit, before surprising Tony with a weak smile. "Yeah. I don't know what it is." Man, Rogers was the worst liar in history.
"Well, as it so happens, you're in luck. I'm a huge insomniac myself and I find a little bit of hot cocoa goes a long way." He gestured grandly to the simmering pot.
"I'd love some," Steve replied, taking a seat at one of the stools. Tony was used to seeing him either in uniform or looking somewhat put together. This version of Steve was ruffled. His hair was standing up at odd angles and somehow he managed to find a t-shirt and sweatpants that didn't look like they were two sizes too small. Tony didn't even know they made them that big. But even then, in the harsh fluorescent kitchen lights, there was something about him that invited Tony in. Something familiar, like coming home.
Oh God, I'm in too deep, Tony thought as he poured out two mugs. I'm getting way too cheesy way too fast. Oh this is bad.
"Here ya go," he set a mug in front of Steve and took the seat opposite of him. "Drink up."
Steve obeyed, bringing the steaming mug to his lips and taking a liberal sip. He set the cup down, and preoccupied himself with staring at his hands. "Sorry," Tony offered, "No mini mashmellows. Something tells me either Clint or Thor's responsible for that."
Steve laughed a bit, his posture still tense. "That's fine." He took another sip.
They were quiet for a few moments before Steve spoke again. "Were you up inventing something lifesaving?"
"That's the only kind of inventions I do," Tony replied, taking a long sip of his own cocoa. "Working on some suits for the gang to wear during the winter time. Scarves and mittens just aren't intimidating."
"To keep us warm," Steve said, suddenly his expression was far off and distant.
"Yeah," Tony said slowly. "Are you okay?"
Steve's attention snapped and he glanced up at Tony. "I'm fine."
Tony paused for a second before speaking, "Listen, I've unloaded a whole lot of baggage on you. You've been there for me more times than I can count. Let me do the same for you." He leaned forward subconsciously as he spoke.
Steve seemed to gravitate toward him. "It's mostly nightmares now," he began uncertainly and Tony nodded silently to urge him on. "Sometimes I'm reliving the moment on the train. Where I lost him." He swallowed.
"Bucky," Tony filled in gently. He'd read Steve's file. About a hundred times.
"Yeah," Steve's voice cracked. "Some nights I'm behind the wheel of the jet about to go down in the ice. I can still hear-" he took a deep breath "-Peggy's voice. I promised her…I said I'd come back. I guess I did, though. Didn't I?" His eyes were visibly filled with tears and Tony reacted mostly on instinct. He leaned forward to close the gap between them and wrapped his arms around Steve's broad shoulders. Steve laid his head against Tony's chest as though this was a natural, normal thing the two did every other night. It felt right. Which was weird because Tony was not a hugger, but this was something he'd been wanting to do for a while now.
He told himself it was because Cap always looked like he needed to be cheered up. But, Tony Stark was a liar. It was because he wondered what Steve's hair would smell like (creepy, right? But it's fresh like rain in the morning). He wondered what it would feel like to hold him close and feel his heart beat (Slow and steady. He tried to count out his pulse, but he couldn't focus right).
And then all of a sudden, Steve pulled back, and for a split second Tony wondered what he had done wrong. Maybe there wasn't enough patting action, people feel comforted when you pat their backs right?
But, he couldn't finish that train of thought, because Steve's eyes were fixed on him and he suddenly felt vulnerable. This wasn't like the vulnerable he felt when he passed out on the lab floor. This was the kind of vulnerable that precedes a fall from a cliff into the placid sea below. This was the kind of vulnerable that got wrapped up in thick quilts while a thunderstorm rages on in the night.
He could feel Steve's breath on his face, warm with faint notes of chocolate. Neither of them moved for those moments, each not wanting to leave, but being too scared to take the plunge. "The last guy who looked at me like that nearly ate me alive." Tony was surprised he had a capacity for teasing at the moment.
Steve laughed quietly. "I'm not sure about that-" Tony's heart dropped heavily. "But, I was hoping for a kiss."
Tony didn't need to be told twice. He leaned forward to press his lips to Steve's. Because, wow he hadn't thought it would go down like this for one thing. And for another, he was floored at how smooth that was. And finally, he almost felt guilty at how easy he was, but then reminded himself that Steve was a freakin' specimen and he had been low key wanting this for a while. Sure, he wasn't man enough to admit it, but there was no doubt now. Steve wanted this too. For some reason.
The kiss was quick and chaste, but it still sent tingles through Tony's body and he felt like a kid having his first kiss all over again. (Seriously. In way over my head now.) "Thanks," Steve's voice pulled him back to the present.
"For the kiss? The cocoa? Listening?"
"All," Steve replied.
"I didn't get a chance to offer up any legendary Stark wisdom," Tony began and Steve chuckled. "But, I've had my share of nightmares. Hell, still get them sometimes. Talking helps. So, you know I'm going to be up. And ready to listen."
"Thanks." Steve looked relieved, and less tense than he had been earlier. The two remained in the kitchen for a while longer, talking about the topics the brain drudges up after midnight. (Steve couldn't believe the moon landing was faked.)
It was completely new for Tony. Everything. They kissed for Christ sake. And he was happy about it. But, they were just sitting and talking now. And he was happy about that too.
Oh God, Tony thought as the two bid each other goodnight and headed their separate ways. Are we going to have to have that 'what are we' conversation?