He feels Tony slip away from him, his gaze drifting until his eyes lose focus. He doesn't know what triggered it, but it's easy enough to guess where his thoughts have wandered. Steve abandons his gentle caresses and bodily hauls Tony upright, propping him against the expanse of his bare chest. "Hey," he whispers. "Tony, stay with me." He's not pleading yet, but he will if he has to. For now, he just wraps his arms around him and tries to banish the ghosts with his presence.
Being suddenly hauled upright and enveloped stuns Tony speechless, but he soon leans into Steve and shares in his scent and heat. Back when his parents died, he didn't have anything like this. Jarvis, the flesh and blood one, had already passed. Rhodey and he were still stupid kids playing at being men (or maybe that was just Tony, probably just Tony). At most they shared some beers and companionable silences. And Obadiah—well, looking back, he always was the business partner first. Everything else (friend, confidant, mentor, father figure) came second for Stane, despite what Tony thought. Nevertheless, whether by his own making or otherwise, Tony was alone back then. But that's changed.
Slowly, he reaches a hand up and grabs hold of one of Steve's arms enveloping him, though he meant to pat it. Instead, it becomes his anchor. "I'm here," Tony reassures and swallows a lump. "Just took a short trip down memory lane. It wasn't one-way."
Steve places his other hand over Tony's, tucks his chin on top of his head. "I know," he murmurs. "Just don't want you getting lost for too long." He wonders if what he did was for the best, but there's no point in wondering that - Tony was right, and it's not his call to make. He just has to be here for the fallout, has to do all he can.
(He wonders what'll happen when Tony goes back to his house in the city, left alone with all the ghosts of the past - if he'll slip into mourning or anger or both. He doesn't want him to go back, and for once, it's not for his own selfish reasons. Steve's genuinely concerned about Tony's mental state.)
"How's the headache?" he asks, just because he doesn't really know what else to talk about. It's a good, neutral topic, and those are in short supply right now.
Tony feels Steve tucking him close to his body like he'd feel the final locks of the armor shutting him inside. He quells the distant protests about being fine and not needing to be coddled and closes his eyes. Beneath his ear, Steve's heart beats, as strong and steady as a metronome. Tony's worse thoughts are momentarily overridden. "Faded, for the most part," he mumbles, then admits, "though I probably shouldn't stare into any bright screens for a while."
"So keep your phone away from you," Steve jokes. "Got it." He's aware that Tony isn't likely to tempt fate anyway - maybe he would have once, when he was younger, but these days he seems to be more aware of his body and the effects of abusing it. "No Angry Birds for the rest of the night."
Tony chuckles lowly. When was the last time he even played a mobile game? Maybe he needs a vacation. Somewhere nice, like—like the Bahamas. Take that little getaway his parents were robbed of. He could bring Steve, too. "You're just afraid I'd beat your high scores without even trying," he ribs.
"You'd just cheat and hack the game," Steve teases right back. "Come on, you use a targeting computer, what kind of aim do you have?" Thanks to the serum, Steve has uncanny accuracy and an excellent eye for physics, although he's never actually tested how that might carry over to video games.
Tony sets aside the vacation idea as quickly as he gets it. There's too much to be done, to prepare and watch out for. "Well, I'm no Clint Barton," he confesses, "but I do know trajectories and how to best wreck a place." He bites his cheek against his brain adding, Just ask a huge swath of the Middle East.
"I believe that," Steve agrees wryly. He doesn't know about Tony's internal conflict, doesn't even think about his past. "Maybe not the same way as Banner, but that's a whole other kind of redecorating." He wonders, not for the first time, where Bruce is, how he managed to disappear so completely, if they should've tried harder to find him. Maybe there's something of his own past rearing its head in that train of thought.
"Right, because I do it with style, which is worth like a bajillion extra points. Ergo, easy high score," Tony declares, waving a hand lazily and glossing over the mention of Bruce. That's another rabbit hole Tony can fall into if he lingers near it, and Steve needs him with him in the here and now.
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Slowly, he reaches a hand up and grabs hold of one of Steve's arms enveloping him, though he meant to pat it. Instead, it becomes his anchor. "I'm here," Tony reassures and swallows a lump. "Just took a short trip down memory lane. It wasn't one-way."
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(He wonders what'll happen when Tony goes back to his house in the city, left alone with all the ghosts of the past - if he'll slip into mourning or anger or both. He doesn't want him to go back, and for once, it's not for his own selfish reasons. Steve's genuinely concerned about Tony's mental state.)
"How's the headache?" he asks, just because he doesn't really know what else to talk about. It's a good, neutral topic, and those are in short supply right now.
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