Hey ! If you're doing those really cute summer prompts , can I please ask for 10 and 11 ? You can do either or both. I don't know. But I just love the thought of barefoot Steve in Tony's space. I love soft stony. Thanks a lot
Ahh yes I know what you mean, it’s such a cute image! 🥰 This took me forever to do, so I’m sorry about that, and I hope you still enjoy this little ficlet!
(10: Bare feet. Fluff, summer mornings, early relationship banter)
Tony finds Steve out on the back patio when he wakes up. It’s not even dawn yet, but somehow, instinctively, he knows just where Steve will be on a warm, breezy summer morning like this one.
“You could’ve woken me up, you know,” Tony says, leaning down to brush a kiss to the top of Steve’s hair. It’s a wreck, like it always is before he sees the light of day. A fun fact about Captain America that only Tony gets to see? He has the worst bed head of anyone Tony’s ever known. The guy sleeps like a lion when he’s comfortable enough to get there, and with Tony, this has been happening more and more frequently.
Steve smiles up at him. “You looked so relaxed. I can’t believe you’re up anyway,” Steve says. “I was so quiet!” He’s sitting in his boxers with an old MIT sweatshirt of Tony’s thrown on, and there’s a cup of coffee on the table in front of him, steam still curling off of it. He can’t have been out here too long, then.
“Yes, you’re a master of stealth. However! The bed gets cold once you get up," Tony pretends to pout.
“It’s the middle of summer, Tony.”
Steve just shakes his head, amused, and pulls Tony down into the chair beside him. “Coffee?” Steve holds out his own mug for him to take, and Tony cups it in his hands like it’s the middle of winter rather than the tail end of summer. The cicadas are already singing away in the trees, somehow sounding very close by and very far away all at once.
Steve leans back, stretching himself until his feet are in Tony’s lap, resting comfortably while Tony sips his coffee.
“Penny for your thoughts, dear?” Tony asks, rubbing Steve’s feet absently.
“I don’t know what woke me up, really. Must have been a dream,” he says, which is the closest he’s come, so far anyway, to saying the word nightmare.
Tony’s hand stills, moving instead to stroke at Steve’s ankle. “Hmm, definitely should have woken me up,” he murmurs.
“It felt so far away by the time I woke up, you know that feeling? Like I couldn’t quite grasp it, but I couldn’t go back to sleep, either, so here I am,” Steve says, his face a picture of calm in the dusky morning light. Tony wants to reach out and touch his hand, his cheek, the slope of his nose. Anything, really. He settles for ghosting his fingers across his knee.
“Here you are,” Tony repeats. The sun is starting to break through the clouds, a dark purple that would bend and fade to lavender and pink before the light of the day washed over them.
Tony passes the mug back to Steve, laughing a little when he grouses that Tony drank more than half of it.
“I’ll make you breakfast to make up for it,” Tony offers. “I think we have stuff for pancakes in there...”
“I could get on board with that. Promise I won’t have to call the fire department?” Steve’s grinning over at him now.
“See, I was even gonna throw some blueberries in there for you, Steven, but now you lost your blueberry privileges.”
Steve does his best to look contrite. “Not the blueberries!” He pulls his legs over and back, laughing as Tony stands and shakes his head.
“Missing out on a culinary masterpiece and he’s making jokes,” Tony says, indignant.
“Okay, okay, I’m very sorry,” Steve offers. He holds out a hand like he’s asking Tony to help him up, but instead he pulls Tony down onto his lap. “Forgive me?” Steve brushes a kiss over Tony’s lips, soft and warm and coffee flavored.
Tony huffs his agreement, letting Steve kiss him again, and the sun is out in full by the time they finally make their way to the kitchen.
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