(no subject)
TonySteve or SteveTony? Does it even matter?
Steve was still getting used to all this 21th century stuff. He liked how things were calmer in his days, and he missed the dinner place that was just across his house. At his right, Tony was sleeping like a rock, and it was almost seven in the morning..
He looked again to the big window at his left. That's when he saw his sketchbook at the bedside table, he might as well do something while Tony was still sleeping.
He decided to draw Tony and the sheets were covering just Tony's crotch and part of his legs, he wouldn't mind if the sheet just... slipped away, right? Of course not, and he could always put it back.
Then very gently, so Tony wouldn't awake, Steve took the sheets away. And Damn how he was gorgeous.
He started with the face, he looked so calm now, one could almost believe Tony was a nice and quiet person. Steve almost wished he was wake so he could draw his eyes, Steve quite liked Tony's eyes.
Truth be told, he could draw Tony from memory already, and smiled remembering the very gorgeous moans from last night, maybe he should draw Tony's face when he was coming, that was some sight.
After two hours his Schetch-Tony was done, he looked at the real one then at his draw and smiled pleased. Steve closed the book, put it back at the table, covered Tony again, then lay his head to look at him.
He hoped Tony woke up soon.
At ten in the morning, Tony finally started moving. He opened his eyes and looked right at Steve's, just to close them again and come a little closer.
At that moment Steve realized, it doesn't matter how much things were different now and the things he has lost in seventy years, he wouldn't change a thing.
Steve closed his eyes and slept a little more.