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When the press conference is over, Tony lets his Press Smile ease into his Look How Relaxed I Am smile. The other Avengers are genuinely relaxed, so far as Tony can tell. Steve and Sam are joking with each other, and Thor is already regaling a smiling Bruce with a new tale. The press conference had gone well, after all. They smile at Tony, too, and pat him on the shoulder as they go their separate ways, but no one asks how he’s doing.
Not that Tony expects them to. When he picks the right reporters to ask the questions and tosses off seamless transitions between teammates and defuses charged comments with just the right amount of humor, it’s seamless. The amount of work it takes is invisible. It would be concerning if the Avengers did notice he’s tired, because that might mean the press did, too.
When he’s alone Tony heads into the Compound kitchen to make himself a coffee. He’d been up late last night. He had tried to sleep, but nightmares didn’t care about morning press conferences. He’d gotten some work done for SI, at least. Pepper has been on him for days to catch up on his commitments at CTO, and R&D still needs a couple reviews from him.
Tony sips his coffee slowly, resisting the urge to close his eyes as he does. When was he supposed to give War Machine a check up, again? Activating his smart glasses, Tony reviewed his calendar and almost groaned when he realized Rhodey was coming by that night.
He’s not even halfway through his coffee when a portal spins open in the middle of the kitchen. Tony stiffens, but Stephen is in casual clothes. Still— “Do we have a meeting?”
“Not a meeting, just lunch,” Stephen says, but he’s frowning when he looks at Tony.
Damn it. Normally Tony enjoys lunch with Stephen, but he just does not have the energy to be social today.
“Do you have a room in the Compound?” Stephen asks.
Tony blinks. “I don’t need to change, this,” he waves at the suit he’d worn for the press conference, “is fine for lunch.”
“Show me?” Stephen asks. He doesn’t explain why, but hell, why not show him? Tony’s room in the Compound isn’t much more personal than a hotel room. So he walks Stephen through the halls to his room and waves grandly at the mostly generic space.
Stephen closes the door behind them. “Get some rest,” he says, nodding at the bed and pulling up a chair for himself. “You’re exhausted, you need sleep more than food. I’ll keep watch.”
Tony stares. “How—?”
“I doubt anyone else noticed,” Stephen reassures him.
“How did you notice?”
“If you sleep on it, I bet you can figure it out.”
Tony points a finger at him. “You’re baiting me. Blatantly.”
“Yes, I am,” Stephen says unrepentantly. “Rest, Tony. You have at least two hours before your next appointment even if you booked yourself solid around lunch.”
Tony hesitates, then strips down to undershirt and boxer briefs before climbing into the bed. Laying down is a relief.
Almost as much as the fact that someone noticed.