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"Morning, Cap."
Steve paused as he shuffled out of his room, rolling his shoulders out. He blinked across the cabin at Tony in the grey dawn and tried to read his odd expression. Tony was… smiling, but there was something strange under it, almost mocking, but… affectionate? "Hmm?" Steve smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He was oddly tired.
Tony leaned one elbow down on the kitchen counter and grinned over the lip of his coffee cup. Steve could see the steam rising up in the crisp air. "So," Tony said pointedly. "Something you forgot to tell me?"
Steve blinked at him again, trying to clear the cobwebs of sleep from his mind. He looked around the cabin as if it would provide him some answers. The distorted grey light told him it had snowed even more in the night, and Steve was sure if he looked out the window their car tracks would be completely obscured. It was peaceful, incredibly quiet, and it was just the two of them. Anticipation set his stomach buzzing all over again.
He turned back to Tony who was still observing him with wry amusement. "...No?" he tried. Surely Tony wasn't asking him about his… feelings. They'd been here less than twenty-four hours out of their planned four-day trip, and alone in a cabin in a snowy forest would get awkward real fast if Tony was trying to get Steve to admit his maybe-a-bit-more-than-a crush. He wouldn't have invited him here just to tease him for it, would he? That didn't seem like Tony at all.
"No? Really?" Tony stood and brought his mug to his lips. "Nothing about your… sleep habits?"
Steve's stomach dropped out, and he smacked a hand over his mouth. "Oh my god."
"There it is!" Tony laughed.
"I totally forgot."
"How do you forget about sleepwalking?"
Steve knew he should be deeply relieved that Tony seemed to think this was funny and not annoying, but he was too sunk into mortification for that to register. "It's been so long since it was an issue. I just - when you asked me up here it didn't even cross my mind, oh god."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Why's it been so long?"
"Uh… JARVIS, actually. He locks my bedroom door and makes sure I can't go anywhere or burn the tower down or something."
"Is that something you're likely to do?"
"I've - uh - I've been known to try to cook, yes."
"Oh, wow. Amazing." Tony grinned, then he frowned. "Wait what about missions? We've been in plenty of safehouses where the whole team crashed for the night and you never sleepwalked - unless we just didn't notice."
"Uh, no. It doesn't happen then. It only happens when, um, when I feel safe."
"Oh." Tony's expression softened and warmed. "We only just got here. You feel safe here? That's nice."
"I do." Steve settled on the bar stool on the other side of the kitchen island and accepted a mug of coffee gratefully. "We're alone, and there's no mission, no bad guys. Just you and me and the snow. Safe."
Tony looked up at him through his eyelashes, and Steve's stomach twisted again. "I'm glad you feel safe around me."
"Good. I mean. I - I do. Thank you. For this, I mean. For bringing me here. This is really nice. It's nice to have a break, and I'm really grateful that you shared yours with me. I know you like coming here alone, so it means a lot."
"I'm glad you came, Steve. Really."
Steve beamed. "And don't worry about the sleepwalking. I'll take care of it."
That night, before he went to bed, Steve pushed the heavy oak dresser from his room against the door.
**
Tony was wakened to the sound of a heavy oak dresser being pushed away from Steve's bedroom door. He sighed up at the ceiling listening to it screech slowly across the floor, then the creak of the door. He glanced at his phone - 3am.
Suspicious, Tony slipped out of bed and pulled on an oversized sweatshirt before padding out into the living room.
The cabin was small, just a living room, attached kitchen, and two bedrooms with ensuite baths. It was well appointed - jacuzzi tubs and a wood stove and granite countertops, but it was small, and Tony liked it that way. He'd been coming here for years, a break from it all, and this was the first time he'd brought someone he wasn't trying to get in bed. Well. It was the first time he hadn't brought someone here because he was trying to get them in bed. He brought Steve because he looked like he needed a break. Getting to be around him all day was just a bonus. Getting to be around him all day in a very small cabin was an extra bonus.
But the size did mean it was hard to sneak around in here.
Not that Steve was trying to sneak. He was standing in front of the bookcase, taking the books off the shelf one by one and setting them on the coffee table.
"Steve?"
He didn't answer, didn't respond at all. It was eerie. His eyes were open, but they were glassy and unfocused, seeing right through Tony, or seeing something else entirely. Wary of a possible wayward blow from a confused super soldier, Tony grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and curled up on the corner farthest from Steve, watching, but not interfering. He'd only try to wake him if he did something dangerous.
Steve removed all the books from the shelves, stacked them neatly on the coffee table, then picked one up and started "reading," flipping the pages too fast, eyes still unfocused. After a few minutes he set the book down again and shuffled back towards his bedroom.
Tony followed him in, breathing a sigh of relief when Steve curled up in bed. Tony tucked the loose end of the blanket under Steve's feet and resisted the urge to kiss his forehead. He put the books away, foregoing his urge to maintain their alphabetical order considering how late it was, then went back to his own room and snuggled down under the covers, shivering in the crisp, winter night until his body heat re-warmed the cooled sheet. Eventually, he drifted off back into heavy sleep.
**
Steve pushed a pile of scrambled eggs around the edge of the pan and tried not to wince when he heard Tony's bedroom door open. He'd been sleepwalking again last night - he could tell because the dresser he'd used to block the door hadn't been there when he'd woken up. It was mortifying. All he could do was hope that Tony had slept through it.
"So…" Tony started, and Steve sighed and turned the burner off. He started portioning the eggs out on two plates.
"What'd I do this time?"
"You took all the books off the shelves and then pretended to read Jane Eyre."
Steve turned, smiling, hoping to make light of it all with a how do you know I was pretending, but his eyes landed on Tony and the words evaporated.
His hair was stuck up on one side, bags dark under his eyes - which shouldn't have been sexy, but apparently anything did it for Steve when it came to Tony. He was wearing a white tank top that clung to him like it was wet and low-slung, ratty pajama pants.
It might have been the little Captain America shields patterned all over the clearly well-worn pants that pushed Steve over the edge. "Oh," he said. "Hmm."
Tony didn't seem to notice Steve's brain melting out of his ears, or at least must have thought it was embarrassment over the sleepwalking instead of the low, smoldering embers of Steve's crush bursting explosively into an impossible to ignore bonfire.
"Don't worry," Tony assured him, taking a seat, "you were very sedate. I made sure you didn't start a fire or try to go to sleep in the snow or anything."
Steve clicked back online. "I'm sorry." He set a plate of eggs in front of Tony then added toast plucked from the toaster.
"'S alright." Tony took a bite from the toast and made grabby hands for the coffee pot. Steve poured him a mug. "So was it the serum?" Tony asked.
"Hmm?"
"Was it like a side effect? Super soldier sleepwalking or something?"
"Oh… no. I've always been a sleepwalker, even when I was a little kid. Used to be easier to keep me under control though. The super strength made it more of a problem. Apparently, sleep-me can be very persistent about getting what he wants." He sighed. "I'll think of something, Tony. I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing." Tony waved it away. "I don't care. It's kind of adorable to find a chink in the armour." He winked, and Steve flushed. "So what do you want to do today?"
Steve swallowed and took a sip of coffee to hide his fluster. He still hadn't figured out if Tony had invited him here as, well, as a date, or not. There was definitely something romantic about the isolation, and the snow, and the wood stove. Though Steve had to admit that he'd find anywhere pretty damn romantic if he was there with Tony.
They'd been flirting, but did it mean anything? And how awkward would it be if Steve made a move and they were stuck up here for three more days, dodging that bullet in every conversation? He was already utterly humiliated by the sleepwalking, he didn't need to add more fuel to the fire.
No… he'd just admire Tony, enjoy the closeness of the long weekend together, and hope that maybe the cabin trip would give him the courage to tell Tony when they got back.
"Play cards?" he suggested, and Tony grinned.
"You're on, Winghead."
**
Sleep refused to come that night. Tony had heard the soft hum of a movie coming from Steve's room for a few hours and he'd lain awake listening to it. He knew if he texted Steve or knocked on his door and said it was too loud, he'd shut it off instantly, but it wasn't the noise that was keeping Tony awake, so he didn't bother. He could sleep through an avalanche.
But he couldn't sleep through anxiety, and the niggling worry that Steve was going to go walkabout again and hurt himself meant Tony couldn't drift off. The movie sounds shut off and he'd found a sort of equilibrium, a dozing state, when he heard Steve get up, and he shocked awake.
Tony wrapped a quilt around his shoulders and shuffled into the living room again. Steve was standing creepily by the back of the couch, unmoving.
"Steve?"
Steve didn't move so Tony yawned his way over to his side then watched, hoping Steve would get bored - or whatever it was that triggered his return to bed - soon, so he could go back to bed and actually sleep. Steve hadn't gotten up more than once each night, so Tony was sure if he could just get Steve back in bed, they could both rest.
Steve stood for a long time then walked over to the front door of the cabin and stood there instead. Tony hovered by his boots, nervous. He wasn't sure what to do if Steve tried to go outside. Steve was barefoot and in only a t-shirt, but Tony wasn't sure if he'd be able to wake him up.
Thankfully, after a few more minutes, Steve wandered into the kitchen instead. Tony watched, bemused, as Steve carefully took a jar of pickles, a brick of cheese, and a jug of milk out of the fridge and lined them up on the counter. He followed it with seven bowls from the cupboard and two forks.
Steve walked in a circle around the kitchen island, then opened the milk and proceeded to carefully fill each bowl.
"What on earth are you making?" Tony asked.
"Hmm?" Steve said, but he didn't turn towards Tony or blink his weird unseeing eyes, so Tony assumed he was still asleep.
Then Steve turned on the stove.
Tony suppressed a yelp and scuttled across the kitchen to flick it off again. Steve didn't seem to notice or mind, putting the pickles and cheese back in the fridge, then the milk in the freezer, which Tony quickly rescued, and the two forks in the sink. He left the bowls of milk on the counter and shuffled back to his room.
Tony made sure he was settled, then poured the milk out into the sink and stacked the bowls. He'd wash them tomorrow, if Steve didn't get to them first. He passed Steve's room on the way to his own and paused for a moment, eyes unable to unstick themselves from Steve's peaceful, sleeping face. His heart did flip-flops in his chest.
It was getting pretty hard to hold back this much want, and Tony was pretty sure that between Steve's beautiful self being shoved in close quarters with him and the lack of sleep lowering his inhibitions, Tony was going to say something very stupid, very soon. Oh well. He shrugged. They'd been dancing around each other long enough - it was probably about time someone said something.
Might as well be him.
**
"It's kind of cute."
Steve sat down hard on the couch and dropped his face into his hands. They'd made it all the way through the day without talking about it, but Tony had finally let it drop, as the sun was setting, that he'd caught Steve trying to sleep-cook the night before. "It's not cute. It's disruptive! You're trying to sleep, rightfully so, on your vacation, and I keep waking you up. Plus I wasted all that milk."
"We've got plenty of milk," Tony said gently, but Steve was too wound up to be soothed.
"It's so frustrating. I don't know I'm doing it, I don't remember anything, how am I supposed to stop it?"
Tony's hand landed on his knee, then he sat too, his warmth pressing up the length of Steve's leg. He squeezed. "Don't beat yourself up about it, Steve. I'm still having a great time. It's only like an hour or two each night. I don't need much sleep."
"You're on vacation. You're supposed to be catching up. Not babysitting me while I dismantle bookshelves and try to cook pickle and cheese pudding."
"There's nothing that helps? Not even a little bit?"
"Well…" Steve stood, antsy, and walked over to the bookcase, adjusting one of the books he'd disorganized the other night, just to give his hand something to do. He immediately mourned the loss of Tony's heat at his side. "Exercise helps a little, but there's not much I can do here. I guess I could go out and run around in the snow." He sighed then muttered, "Should be sleeping out in the snow."
"Steve," Tony chastised gently.
Steve tapped his fingers on the spine of the book."There was one thing," he finally admitted, "from back when I was small."
"Yeah?"
"Bucky used to sleep on me."
Tony choked on nothing then spluttered into laughter. "He what?"
"We shared an apartment, and we had this fire escape, and more than once, I unlocked the window and went out on it. It terrified him, but we tried everything, he even tied me to the bed once -"
"Kinky."
Steve shot him a look. "- but I just undid the knots. Apparently. Anyway, so one night, he was so tired and so frustrated that he just - " Steve gestured with his arms "- flopped. I couldn't move. Slept all night like a baby. Became somewhat of a habit after that. Then we joined the army, and, well, I was stressed enough not to sleepwalk right up until I was living at the tower."
Tony stared at him, lips twitching. "Bucky slept on top of you."
"It was purely platonic!" Steve insisted, cheeks heating. He turned to walk away, planning to go out and hike through the snow until he was so tired he wouldn't be able to walk at all, let alone sleepwalk, but fingers landed on his wrist and stopped him. He turned and found Tony, standing heart-stoppingly close.
"Does it have to be?" Tony asked, voice a low rumble.
"Does - what?"
"Does it have to be -" he stepped closer, firmly into Steve's space "- purely platonic?"
"Um." Steve couldn't remember how to speak. Or breathe. 'No…?"
"Because I'd love to help you out, but if I get in that bed with you, there's no way I'm keeping it PG."
"Oh. Wow." Steve nearly swallowed his tongue then reached out and snaked his arm around Tony's waist, he drew him in, eyes locked, until their chests pressed together. He wasn't entirely sure which of them moved next, but in a single heartbeat, Tony was suddenly attached firmly to his mouth and they were both powering towards the bedrooms, tripping over each other's feet.
"I was kind of hoping this was why you invited me here," Steve admitted, when Tony's mouth released his to explore his neck. Steve tipped his head back and groaned.
"I was kind of hoping this was why you agreed to come," Tony shot back, hands wandering.
They were out of their clothes and in bed - someone's bed, Steve wasn't about to waste time checking whose - in record time. It felt like puzzle pieces clicking together, finally having Tony in his arms, and there wasn't much that needed to be said, after that.
**
Tony woke slowly, the warm light of morning spilling through the curtains neither of them had thought to close last night. They were in his room, it seemed, the blankets half wrapped around them, half-tangled around their legs.
He was supposed to be sleeping on Steve to stop him from sleepwalking, but he wasn't. In fact, Steve was sleeping on him - sprawled out in a mess of too-long limbs and fluffy blond hair. His face was buried in Tony's neck and he was snoring gently, altogether too much of his considerable weight on Tony's chest.
But they'd both slept the whole night through.
Tony stroked his fingers down Steve's spine and felt him relax even more on top of him. Maybe it was unconventional, but he thought this might prove to be an excellent cure for Steve's sleepwalking.