Work Text:
To his surprise, when he looked up Steve was at the door to his workshop, holding two cups of coffee. They stared at each other through the door for a moment, Tony in disbelief and Steve in expectation. “JARVIS, let him in,” Tony said after a long moment, looking back down at his project with sightless eyes. “You know, you’re supposed to leave when you wake up in bed alone,” Tony said, making his voice as cutting as possible. “Maybe it’s one of those 21st century things they didn’t tell you about.”
“Oh, I know. Despite popular belief, we did that sort of thing in my day, too,” Steve said, unperturbed. “Coffee?” When Tony didn’t answer, he set it down on Tony’s desk and started to wander around. Tony felt his shoulders tighten with irritation and anxiety as Steve poked around his workshop. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Steve was supposed to leave, chalk Tony up as a self-centered, spoiled asshole, and never think about him again.
“You know, you’re not the first pretty blond I’ve had in my bed,” Tony tried again. He narrowed his eyes as he followed Steve’s progress around the shop, watching as he lingered near Howard’s hot rod. “Not even the first this week,” he lied. Steve just made a noncommittal sound as he sipped his coffee. "Are you even listening to me?" Tony snapped. For some reason it was absolutely unendurable that Steve was still here, his hair mussed and a soft cotton shirt stretched over the broad shoulders Tony remembered vividly from last night, cotton pajama pants hanging off his hips.
"Yes. You think I'm pretty," Steve said, one corner of his mouth curling up in a small smile.
Tony threw up his hands in defeat. "What do you want then? Breakfast?"
"I'd love to."