It's not highly unusual that he's hidden himself away in the lab under the guise of needing to finish up a few pressing designs for the new StarkPhone. He snickers when he realizes that he's lying to himself again. Who is he kidding? He finished those designs a month ago, and was already working on the upgrades for the 'new' StarkPhone.
No, he wasn't lying to himself.
Just… telling a lie of omission.
There was a big difference.
When he snickers again at the sheer ridiculousness of his own insane thoughts, he realizes that he can make out whirring noises coming from the corner of his workshop where DUM-E was stationed.
He turns around and sighs when he sees DUM-E holding his cord in his claw, clearly caught in the act of trying to make a run from his charging station.
He's so pathetic that even his own inventions don't listen to him.
"What do you think you're doing, you stupid bag of bolts? Back to the charging station with you."
He points a screwdriver at DUM-E who whirs sadly, claw dropping at the obvious chastisement from his father figure.
"Sir, what project can I assist you with today?" FRIDAY's calm voice came from the speakers hidden in all corners of the lab. He felt a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
There was his pride and joy, his sweet girl.
"Hey, Fri, get ready to add some input on the blueprints for the new StarkPhone. It needs to be checked, although I know everything is correct because I'm a genius, but I also know that Pepper will take great joy in threatening me with those killer heels of hers if I don't check it before I send it off to R&D," he said, pulling up a hologram in front of him and sitting down.
"Sure thing, Boss man. Are you sure the reason that you need my help to check everything isn't just because you're getting slow in your old age?" she teased him and he glared at the nearest camera.
"Cheeky. Just you see, Fri, keep it up and I will take you apart and send you to a community college. Preferably some government college, and not the private ones. See how much you like that," he mock-threatened.
"Of course you will, Sir. Check should be done in five," she said and he sobered up, fingers moving quickly across six different holograms all at once.
He could feel the last bits of his dark thoughts fade away to the back of his mind the longer he spent down in the lab. The sounds were familiar, the work second nature to him.
He knew that it was wrong, it being Christmas Eve and all, but he couldn't lay in bed any longer. His mind replaying his parents' death's in his head like some sort of broken film. Steve was dead to the world, exhaustion clear on his face even in his sleeping form. He knows he should be a good boyfriend and stay in bed, but being near Steve seemed too much for him at the moment. And the guilt at staying away from his slumbering boyfriend was practically eating him alive, but he soldiers on and shakes it off like he always does.
What feels like an hour later, the sound of someone keying in the code to the lab enters his mind, but he doesn't pay any attention to it, eyes only slightly blurry as he flicks through FRIDAY's corrections of his blueprints. He only startles when he feels someone's hands sliding around his waist.
"You're not in bed. Can't sleep without you," Steve murmurs, body still warm with sleep. He knows if he turns around to look at him that Steve's normally neat blond hair will be tousled, and his hands itch to run it through the short strands.
He doesn't turn around.
He feels more than sees how Steve's body goes slightly rigid before he pulls away from him, blue eyes roaming worriedly over his form. Most likely checking for any injuries or signs that he might have hurt himself while down in the lab. He feels a flare of irritation rise up inside of him and he has to tamp down on it hard to keep from snapping at Steve to leave him alone.
He turns his head slightly, working his mouth in some semblance of what he hopes is a reassuring smile and directs it at Steve.
Judging by the bare concern shining in Steve's blue eyes, he probably did a really bad job of it, but he can see that Steve is trying just as hard not to let on that he knows something's up with him. He sees Steve relax and exhales at the sight, his own relief more than palpable.
"You weren't in bed. Why?" Steve asks. His tone of voice isn't accusatory, more curious, and slightly confused. If the sight wasn't so endearing he thinks that he just might snap at Steve. But Steve looks cute when he's confused and instead of snapping at Steve like he wants to, he settles for something slightly bitter.
"Well, some of us can't just run away whenever they need to step up and do their job, Steve. Some of us have real jobs to do and sleeping never helped anyone, " he says and takes a small amount of satisfaction at the fleeting look of hurt that crossed Steve's face.
They both know he isn't just talking about the work for SI, but rather what happened in Siberia and Steve's little time away in Wakanda with the rest of the team.
Two years later and they were still ignoring the elephant in the room and taking rather enormous precautions never to mention anything that might have to do with the incident all that time ago.
Which didn't always work because every now and again, one of them would say something without realizing it and the other would flinch.
Take now for example.
He sees it when Steve's face goes eerily blank before he turns away. But he notices how Steve's youthful face suddenly looks drawn and even more tired, his blue eyes dim. Steve is trying not to let his obvious hurt show, and Tony wonders — if not for the third time this night, if he's finally done it, he's become the biggest asshole ever.
"Sorry," he apologizes hastily and hates how fake it sounds. He doesn't sound sorry, but he really is. He doesn't mean to hurt Steve. Ever. Hates how Steve's happy smile disappears and he gets all quiet.
Steve nods jerkily and he can tell that Steve is probably deciding on whether or not it was safe to stay down here with him or if he should just go to bed.
He sighs. "Come here," he says and holds out a hand.
Steve's blue eyes flicker between the doors leading out and his hand, and Tony feels like even more of a prick.
Steve must’ve sensed that he's really sorry because he inches forward slowly, taking Tony's hand in his own.
"I'm sorry. It's— Tonight's just stressful." He pulls Steve closer by the hand, not that Steve had put up a fight against it.
It's quiet again, but the silence between them isn't tense, it's relaxed.
"You don't need to make excuses, Tony. Talk to me, sweetheart," Steve says, squeezing to grab his attention.
He shuts his eyes tightly and takes a controlled breath.
When he opens his eyes, he finds Steve waiting patiently for him to answer.
"Why are you comforting me? I've said some real shitty things to you and you're still comforting me. Why?" he asks finally, gaze imploring.
"What?" Steve asks.
He doesn't break Steve's gaze.
"Why are you comforting me?" he asks again.
Steve cocks his head to one side for a minute before he straightens up. He clears his throat once, twice, and he can see just how nervous Steve is.
"I know that you're not mad at me. I also know that something else is on your mind. Judging by the fact that you never even made it to bed, I'm assuming that it's something to do with the time of year. Which tells me that you're thinking of your parents," Steve says carefully, hitting the nail right on the head.
He bit his lip so hard that he thinks it might bleed.
He forgot just how well Steve knows him.
"Is that why you're comforting me?" he asks and he's proud that his voice doesn't crack at the end.
Steve nods slightly.
He cocks his head to the side, feeling confused.
Why would Steve comfort him over this? He knows that this topic is also something that isn't exactly easy for Steve to talk to him about.
And yes, having someone like Steve who was willing to overlook his own discomfort at this situation in order to comfort him felt nice. It was nice knowing that someone cared about him.
Everyone else who ever comforted him was only pretending. They never wanted to comfort him, they only ever wanted something from him.
He tells Steve this.
"Everyone always hurts me and then leaves."
He watches Steve flinch, no doubt remembering two years ago when he did the same; left him to die in the cold of a Siberian bunker, his suit a deadweight.
He carries on, despite feeling guilty for making Steve feel this way.
"Why are you still here?"
Steve looks him in the eyes when he answers.
"Because no matter what happened before, I promise not to hurt you again," Steve says and he can hear the sincerity in his voice, can see the way his blue eyes shimmer with guilt and sadness.
"Really?" he hears himself ask.
Steve doesn't hesitate to put his fears at ease.
"Really," Steve says.
He can feel the beginnings of a smile coming on, and can tell that Steve sees it too because he smiles somewhat shyly, pulling him closer until they were in each others' space.
He knows that the issue with his parents' death needs to be approached. He also knows that it can be put on hold until tomorrow, or the day after, until the Christmas celebration was over.
He lets Steve lead him to bed.