What Are the Odds? (Stony Au)

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight:

The warm beam of sunlight peeked through the blinds, breaking through dark bedroom.

Steve's face scrunched up as the day wiggled into his eyelids. He yawned and pushed himself to a halfway seating position when he felt a small weight move, causing him to freeze.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and smiled at the smaller man on his chest, who was shielded from the light.

Small puffs of air escaped his lips, and his messy hair fell in all different places. His dark eyelashes were pressed together gently, unlike his grip on Steve's t-shirt.

Steve glanced over at the clock that blinked 10:32 a.m. He checked his phone, but no one had bothered him yet. A small growl emerged from his stomach, but he didn't want to wake Tony. However, he knew it would be harder to get him to fall asleep later.

He ran his fingers through Tony's tangled hair gently, causing him to stir, "Good morning."

"Five more minutes," Tony mumbled, turning over.

Steve chuckled, picking up the rather small notebook on the bedside table. It was probably his third, but it might've been his fourth book. This particular journal was filled with small things that he learned about Tony. He skimmed over a couple, and laughed at some of them.

7) Tony hates mushrooms. He doesn't like the thought of eating fungus.

13) Even though he's social, Tony doesn't like social events.

14) Tony doesn't like people.

16) Tony likes batman more than superman.

There were more, but those were some of his favorites. He grabbed a pencil before scribbling down a number twenty-one.

21) Tony's not a morning person. Wake him five minutes early -> he'll always ask for five more minutes.

Steve shut the notebook and set it back in his place, before running his fingers through Tony's hair again, "C'mon, Sleepy. It's been five minutes."

Tony's eyes unwillingly fluttered open and met Steve's with a frown, "I was sleeping."

"Yeah, I know," Steve laughed as Tony's frown deepened.

He rolled onto his back, and onto Steve's thighs, before throwing his arms out to his sides, "Why?"

"Because, we have to make sure no one other than Wanda, Clint, or Natasha is cooking. Then, we get laundry and make sure everyone is training in a safe manner," Steve stretched as Tony sat up, "Then we wash the dishes and do a quick sweep of the floor, so it doesn't get out of hand."

"Then we take out the trash and mop the ceiling!" Tony finished sarcastically.

"Ha, ha," Steve got out of bed, "Someone has to do it."

"There's a dishwasher, a robot vacuum, leftovers, and safety rules," Tony stated bluntly.

"Well," Steve paused, "Then who's going to mop the ceiling?"

"I was being sarcastic!" Tony huffed, standing up, "You know what? You have fun with that. I'm going to brush my teeth."

Tony didn't wait for an answer, he just needed out. He couldn't quite pinpoint why he was smiling, or why that was the best night's sleep that he's had. He needed to brush his teeth.

He opened the door to his room, but froze upon seeing the destroyed sight. The burn marks looked almost exactly as the fire yesterday, and the blood splattered on the wall allowed him to picture the exact fighting scene. He pulled the door shut, gasping for his breath.