The One Where Tony Has A Migraine And Steve Is A Caring Boyfriend
Blinking blearily, Tony immediately regrets waking up. He groans quietly, squeezing his eyes shut one more. The soft light filtering through the curtains felt like daggers through his eyes, and made his stomach flip. Steve shifting on the bed, rocking it, did NOT help any. Tony flops a hand in his lover’s direction, making contact with Steve’s- bicep? chest? waist?- making contact with Steve. He mumbles something along the lines of ‘knock it off,’ but it comes out like “‘ock i’ off.”
Steve hums, slowly waking himself up, “Hm?” When Tony doesn’t respond, Steve props himself up into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes.
“Tony?”
When Tony still doesn’t respond, Steve’s brow furrows, and he lays a gentle hand on Tony’s shoulder, who grunts softly, eyes still squeezed shut, back turned to Steve. Voice soft, Steve murmurs, “What’s wrong?” Tony simply mumbles “Migraine,” and Steve frowns, leaning down to press a kiss to Tony’s shoulder, voice still quiet.
“Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” Tony doesn’t respond, so Steve figures it must be pretty bad. Moving carefully, Steve slips from the bed, padding to the bedroom door.
“I’ll be right back, honey.”
He slips from the room silently, making his way to their kitchen quickly.
“JARVIS, clear Tony’s schedule for today, and lockdown the floor. I don’t want Clint coming up here and disturbing Tony.”
“Of course, Captain.”
Steve gathers everything he needs from the kitchen; a few water bottles, some snacks, and a bottle of Excedrin Extreme before he heads back to the bedroom, entering it quietly to find that Tony hadn’t moved at all, except to shove his head under his pillow. Steve deposits the water, food, and pills on his own nightstand, tipping a few of the said pills into his palm before cracking open a water bottle. He sets these down once more as he slips back into bed, sitting back against the headboard.
“Tony, baby? I have some water and painkillers for you,” He skims his fingers down Tony’s arm gently before tapping his elbow, “c’mere real quick, please?” Tony moans quietly from under the pillow, but he rolls over, lifting the pillow from his face and moving to sit up. Steve reaches over to help him, guiding Tony to sit between his legs, back to chest. Tony’s breathing a little unevenly, and Steve figures it’s the nausea. The good captain lifts a hand to cover Tony’s still shut eyes carefully, cupping his hand over his face to block the light.
“JARVIS, dim the windows, please?”
The A.I. responds by simply dimming the windows, so less light flooded the room. Despite this, Steve keeps his hand over Tony’s eyes.
“Do you think you can stomach some food first? You shouldn’t take Excedrin on an empty stomach.”
Tony hesitates, but he nods, so Steve reaches over and grabs the saltines he’d brought with him. They’re not the neatest food to eat, so he breaks a piece off before lifting it to Tony’s lips,
“Open up, love.”
Tony obeys, lips parting to accept Steve’s offering. He chews slowly before he swallows. They repeat this until they’ve made it through five crackers, when Tony shakes his head a little. Steve hums softly, sets down the piece he’d been offering, and grabs the open water bottle.
“Water?”
In lieu of responding, Tony trails his fingers down Steve’s arm until he reaches his hand, taking the bottle and sipping from it. He finishes maybe a quarter of it before Steve presses the Excedrin into Tony’s hand. Tony swallows them quickly, chasing them with water before he lowers the bottle to hold it in his lap. Steve takes it gently and sets it back on the night table. When Tony settles back against Steve, Steve uncovers his eyes and brings both hands up to Tony’s temples, rubbing slow, gentle circles there with his forefinger and middle finger. Tony sighs heavily and slumps back against Steve, relaxing under his hands. Taking the hint, Steve continues, eventually moving from Tony’s temple to massage his scalp gently until Tony is putty against Steve, pained gasps turning into soft sighs, into content silence. After a few minutes of this silence, Steve breaks it.
“Are you feeling any better, sweetheart?”
Tony hums quietly, “Much. You have magic hands, baby.”
Steve smiles a little and plants a gentle kiss in Tony’s hair, then continues his slow massage. A few more silent minutes pass before Steve guides Tony’s head back to rest against his shoulder, and Tony simply responds by turning his head to hide his face in Steve’s neck. Steve keeps one hand in Tony’s hair, stroking absently.
“How bad is it?”
“Mm. Not so bad, anymore. ‘cedrin’s working.”
“Good.” A pause. “Try to sleep, love.”
Tony merely hums a quiet response, pressing his face against Steve’s neck, breathing his scent. Steve simply holds Tony close, one hand still stroking brown curls slowly, the other hand splayed across a smooth, toned stomach. Steve can pinpoint the exact moment Tony drops off, relaxing fully in Steve’s arms. He can feel the soft, whispering breaths from Tony’s parted lips, brushing across his skin, and Steve pulls him closer.
There would be more bad days, and they wouldn’t always be migraines- but Steve was more than willing to hold Tony through them.