Deprived
Getting Tony Stark to sleep has always been an endeavor no amount of training could prepare you for.
It was well past two in the morning, and you found yourself standing Tony’s lab, arms crossed, a lovingly-stern expression on your face. You were worried. The faint hum of machinery filled the air, accompanied by the soft glow of holographic screens that displayed his impossibly brilliant schematics. Tony was hunched over his workbench, fiddling with a new upgrade for his suit, seemingly oblivious to the world around him.
He’s always gotten caught up in his projects, pet or not, and you’ve always been worried about him, witnessing him sacrifice so many hours of sleep because he couldn’t stop worrying and stewing over what he could do next, how he could improve things, or fix things. His brain never seemed to shut off — his words, not yours. So of course, as the ever-loving boyfriend you were to him, you were down here once again, sacrificing your own sleep for the sake of him.
“Tony,” You called out, but he didn’t look up. You sighed, already anticipating for the quotidian routine. “Tony, it’s getting late. It is late. You need to get some sleep.”
“Just a few more minutes,” he mumbled in response, his eyes still fixed to the intricate wiring sat in front of him. “This new repulsor design is almost perfect.”
“That’s what you said two hours ago,” You retorted, stepping closer. His eyes, as troublesome they could be sometimes, looked breathtaking under the focus of his brain and the steady light of the hologram. You placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to gently pull him away from his work. “You’ve been at this for days without a proper rest. Even a genius needs sleep.”
Tony finally glanced up, his eyes bloodshot and weary. “I know, I know. But this it’s important.”
“What’s more important is not collapsing from exhaustion,” You countered, voice firm but caring. Because all you could do was care about him, even the workaholic bits that refused to sleep. “You can’t save the world if you’re dead on your feet.”
He sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his temples. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope,” You replied with a slight grin. “Come on, baby. Just a few hours of sleep, then you can get back at it.”
Tony clearly hesitated, looking between you and his work. Finally, and thankfully, he relented, pushing his chair back and standing. “Fine, you win. But if the world ends because I didn’t finish this time, it’s on you.”
More than relived, you chuckled. “I’ll take that risk. Now, let’s finally get into bed.”
Tony walked with you, behind, sliding arms around your waist from behind and pressing a loving kiss to the back of your neck. “I don’t know what I would do without you,” he murmured against your skin.
“I don’t know either.” You’d really rather not think about the version Tony would be if you hadn’t been dragging him to bed all those nights.