Stony Oneshots (Requests open)

Their own private pace

I'm not even sure what happened, There is some non-explicit kind-of sex in this oneshot btw :)

Dedicated to an awesome writer of one of my favourite stony/stucky books x

FOLLOW VOTE COMMENT 
REQUEST IN COMMENTS 

 At Their Own Pace

'Quiet minds can't be perplexed or frightened, but can go in fortune and misfortune at their own private pace, like a clock during a thunderstorm'

-Robert Louis Stevenson

******

An almost deafening peal of thunder shakes the window frame and wakes Steve with a start. It's pitch-dark in the room, just a faint light escaping from his right, but that doesn't stop Steve from blinking rapidly, panting. He doesn't know - can't understand - where he is and tries to move, panicking and thrashing wildly. Why can't he move? Is he tied up? Has he been captured? He's a super-soldier, he can't wrap his head around the situation.

And then, to his utter horror, part of the 'rope' that's confining him, actually stirs, pushing him effortlessly down in a no-nonsense manner. Involuntarily, Steve squeals.

"Fuck, would you just keep quiet?" an annoyed, sleepy-hoarse voice breathes into his ear. "I'm trying to sleep here, for the first time in a while if you don't mind Capsicle." 

With his heart still pounding desperately in his chest, Steve tries to stop hyperventilating. "Tony?" He asks between deep breaths. 

Tony moves again and just like that Steve's world regains its sky and ground and everything in-between. He's in Tony's bedroom, he realises with a surge of heart-calming relief. In Tony's-

"I'm in your bed!" Steve blurts out, still to loud for the dead of the night hour.

Tony's eyes are probably closed; otherwise he'd be rolling them despairingly at him. "Your powers of observation, Steve, are amazing. I do wonder sometimes how you withstand such a burden." 

"But why-" 

Tony huffs impatiently and shifts, searching for a better position. "You were sleeping here when I came back last night from the lab at Bruce's insistence that I get some sleep," he mutters into the pillow. "I was too tired to even think of moving you." 

And slowly Steve does remember, his thoughts becoming more coherent as his pulse slows down and the sleepy fog lifts from his brain. 

He was waiting for Tony; much like he had been doing every night during this week of hell. Between Fury's missions and dealing with the mess of his miss-matched team that was too broken and messed up to be a team he needed to speak to his co-captain of the Avengers. But every time Steve had gone to speak with Tony, the genius had looked up at him with blurry eyes and a sleep-deprived body to get on with whatever Fury had requested from his this time. This time was hard on all the team, and it was a miracle that any of them could still function, especially Tony. But the simple cruel truth was - there was nobody else. So the genius kept on going, kept on working nights and fighting during the daylight, bleary-eyed and tight-lipped and he was too tired to even most of the time to rile up any of the team.

And Steve, torn between his leadership and his guilt towards his team was just as tired, just as spent as he waited for Tony last night to finally surface from the lab. To make sure that he ate something, to make sure that he laid down and slept. But despite his head trying to shoot down his thoughts, he also wanted to spend a few moments in private with him - to reassure himself that Tony was all right, that it hadn't become all to much for him yet.