7.
"No, no, no, it doesn't make sense that way, Jarvis. Try maybe this..." Tony's voice turned into a slurred hum that didn’t make the slightest bit of sense to Steve. He felt himself slipping back into sleep, but fought it back. He could hear Tony's voice. He knew it was Tony's, though he couldn't make out the words. There was a familiar vibration, depth and colouring. Only Tony could have a voice like that.
He slowly opened his eyes and looked around in confusion. His head was spinning and he had no idea where he was. His legs had become tangled in the blanket during his sleep, his left hand tingled, and he could clearly feel a damp trail stretching from the right corner of his mouth down his chin.
He blinked, wiping away the saliva just as he rubbed his eyes and looked around again. The first thing he saw was the arc reactor light coming from Tony's chest; and Tony’s face illuminated by the blue backlighting of the starkpad. Steve blinked again. What was he doing in Tony's bed?
He managed to wriggle his legs free and sit up. His head was slowly starting to work again, vaguely remembering their brief conversation when Tony had suggested this alternative. It must have worked, Steve felt a bit dizzy, his head was still like a pinwheel and his face was hotter than usual.
"Good morning," came a pleasant whisper behind him. He turned slowly, his gaze lingering on Tony who leaned in a little, watching him warily. "How are you?"
"Weird," he muttered, lying down again. "But I guess I've been asleep for a while..."
"Well I guess so, Sleeping Beauty," Tony chuckled amusedly and went back to work on the starkpad. Steve only now noticed the blue, er... pictures around them? He looked around, it took him a moment, but he recognized his apartment. He blinked in surprise.
"What's that?"
"Your apartment," Tony confirmed. "I scanned it after it blew up. I've been trying to work with Jarvis to figure out what caused it."
"And did you figure anything out?"
"Yeah. You'll be surprised, but everything points to - and wait for it... a gas explosion. A simple gas explosion." Tony seemed disappointed and not at all convinced. Steve propped his head up and alternated between watching the simulation of his apartment and Tony.
"And you don't believe it, do you?"
"I don't believe it," he shook his head and frowned. "I've tried every possible scenario. Like the stove running in one of the apartments and the bug spray in the microwave. But no, nothing. All indications are that it was a simple gas explosion."
Steve smiled. He felt a strange, pleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach, knowing that the accident wasn't going to give Tony any sleep, even though he knew full well that he was probably just doing it because he had a bad feeling, not because of Steve. Still, it made him happy.
He looked around again, clearly seeing Tony's bedroom through the blue projection. He had a peripheral thought that Bucky would like the progression of technology and science. Shaking his head at that, he laid back on the pillow and closed his eyes once again.
He felt better, his head was still spinning, but he had finally gotten some sleep. He felt more strength throughout his body, his senses sharpened enough again to hear such small things as Tony's calm regular heartbeat. He could feel the softness of the sheets under his fingers, the pleasant smell of laundry detergent, sleep, Tony's cologne, and Tony himself tickling his nose. He'd sensed all this before, sure, but only peripherally. He had to focus on it directly to realize it. Now it was omnipresent. Everything was back to normal.
But he didn't want to get up. The bed was soft and warm and Tony's presence was comforting. Still, he knew he had to get up. It was very thoughtful of Tony, but... It was inappropriate. It stirred up all sorts of fantasies in Steve that he would have preferred to avoid. He mustn't stay here much longer.
"Who'd have expected Captain America to be a collective sleeper," Tony uttered teasingly, making a few motions with his hands to enlarge and color a section of the simulation, gazing at it thoughtfully. It was one of the walls in his bedroom, and even under the soot buildup Steve could make out the little drawings he had scribbled on it during sleepless nights.
"If you offered to help me just to make fun of me later, don't bother next time," he grumbled in reply, watching Tony's face spread into a wide, amused grin. His eyes never left the simulation, sliding over it and examining it like it was a bug under a magnifying glass. Only then did he look down to Steve.
"How long have you not been sleeping?" He muttered. Looking up at him, it occurred to Steve how crazy natural it felt to just lie next to him and watch him. Bad, Rogers, this is getting bad.
"It's been a while," he replied vaguely, trying to talk himself into getting up and leaving. He didn't move an inch, just interlaced his fingers on his stomach and continued to stare into Tony's face. He unconsciously lowered his gaze to his lips and bit the inside of his cheek. He had wondered many times if they tasted of the whiskey Tony kept pouring into himself. He'd like to find out...
"It’s been a while…." Tony repeated after him, then shook his head and let out a long sigh. "You've been taking a right shit on yourself, Rogers."
Steve frowned. It wasn't true. He tried to do something about the insomnia, but nothing worked. Eventually he began to hope that it would just go away with time, like it always had before, but it didn't. He averted his gaze from Tony.
"You don't have to leave tonight, you can sleep here," Tony winked at him, putting down the starkpad and lying down next to him. Jarvis turned off the simulation and the room was plunged into darkness, broken only by the lights of New York filtering in through the blinds.
Steve said nothing for a while. He lay there, silent, listening to the sounds around him. Outside the windows the wind was blowing and it was raining heavily; if he went jogging in the morning his shoes would be soaked on the first step. Maybe he could just box, that would do. He closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep again, when he remembered today's incident on the bus.
"I should go to my room," he muttered into the darkness of the room. "And I need to find an apartment as soon as possible. I've been here too long."
"Whatever," Tony grumbled, Steve could feel his gaze on him. "Why are you suddenly rushing into this with such vigor?"
"On the bus today..." he began, rubbing his eyes, "two girls sat next to me. High schoolers, I guess, they looked pretty young. They started talking to me, the normal fan talk, you know."
"Uh-huh," he agreed.
"And then they asked me if there was something between you and me," he waved a hand towards Tony, "something... Like... romantic."
The ensuing silence wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but Steve certainly had no desire to prolong it. He waited for a moment to see if Tony would respond with a witty remark, but when nothing happened, he continued, "They said they walk by the tower a lot, so they saw me there a lot of time here and drew this conclusion."
"I figured the gossip was dragging on somehow this time."
He looked at Tony in surprise, even in the dark he could see him well enough. He was cackling like a little boy and wasn’t far from laughing. He didn't understand him. Did it not bother him? Such talk could turn into gossip very easily indeed!
"Tony..." He scolded him harshly, which was obviously the last straw, and Tony burst out laughing. He laughed with his deep vibrant laugh, and in other circumstances Steve would have just listened to him with a smile. This time he was frowning. Tony was taking this far too lightly.
"What?" Tony got out when he'd calmed down a little. "It's just harmless talk, Rogers. I'll die down in a moment. And worse things have been spread about me. So what's the matter with you?"
Steve didn't answer. Tony couldn't understand the fear that had bitten into him the moment one of the girls had said it out loud. Steve almost jumped out of his seat and made a run for it. He wasn't Captain America at that moment. He was a little boy from Brooklyn who had been eyeing the workers and admiring their bodies since he was twelve. A little boy from Brooklyn who knew very well that he must never confide this to anyone. It would be too big a risk. Homosexuality was illegal then. And you either ended up in jail or a mental institution. Steve had no idea which was worse and was very glad he'd never experienced it. Unlike others.
He went to church with his mom every Sunday and almost every time Pastor Mitchell took a moment to tell them that homosexuality was a sin. These people are possessed by the devil, transmitting disease and kidnapping our children! Steve hated himself from the moment he found out that he was one of these people. He tried to change that. He tried to change really hard, but of course it was useless.
He finally accepted it as his dark and dirty secret, hidden very, very deeply most of the time. He never told anyone, not even Bucky. Only certain men, most of whom he didn't even know by name, knew about it.
"Hey, Earth to Rogers. Do you copy?"
He quickly pushed his thoughts away and returned his attention to Tony. He tried to smile, but it only came out as a strained grin. Good thing the room was dark.
"It's just gossip, Cap. That's all it is. So don't think too much about it," Tony cut off the conversation, nudging him gently in the ribs with his elbow and rolling over with his back to him. "Now sleep or get out. Your choice."
He chose the first option. For clearly selfish reasons, to spend a few more hours next to Tony. He'd leave in the morning and this wouldn't happen again.