Chapter Text
It started by accident, really. Both of them were night owls, though not entirely voluntarily - it was usually nightmares and bad memories keeping them up beyond when even they would have liked to go to sleep.
Disappointingly, Tony found he couldn't focus on what he was doing - his mind was racing, yes, but it was also bouncing all over the place, leaving him unable to concentrate.
Having had plenty of experience with the feeling, he sighed and headed over to the common rooms. He wondered what his poison would be tonight. Alcohol tended to dull the edges a bit, smoothing out the frantic thoughts running through his mind, whereas coffee would hopefully make it possible to find one single thing to focus on.
Considering it was past three at night, he hadn't really been expecting anyone else to be up.
In hindsight, that might have been a bit naive of him. But he felt safe blaming the lack of coffee or alcohol, as well as his overactive and incapable-of-focusing brain.
Whatever the reason was, in the end it resulted in him walking into the common area, where Barnes was watching television, curled up on the couch in a way Tony hadn’t really expected a nearly-100-year-old assassin to be.
“Hey Barnes,” he greeted, not wanting to startle the other man in case he hadn’t noticed Tony coming up.
Being a nearly-100-year-old assassin, though, he wasn’t too surprised that Barnes didn’t even jolt in place. “Hey, Stark. Couldn’t sleep either?” There was still something uncertain in his voice, and while Tony understood, he really wished that Barnes could just accept that he was welcome, instead of constantly worrying that Tony would kick him out.
“Can I ever?” he replied with a shrug, looking around the kitchen to see if there was still any of the good coffee lying around. Barnes tended to be a lot more relaxed when no one was outright paying attention to him.
A huff of what could have been laughter came from the couch. “Ain’t that a mood?”
Despite years of torture and all that, Barnes was doing a far better job at getting used to the modern world than Steve had ever appeared to. It caused Tony to grin at him, which had him seeing what was on the television, and really? With his brain the equivalent of a hyperactive bouncy-ball, it wasn’t Tony’s fault he got stuck on the program.
It was Barnes’ own fault, really. Tony was excessively rich and had literally hundreds of channels available. And out of all of those hundreds of channels (including a multitude of foreign ones) he just had to pick the SyFy channel.
“That just doesn’t make sense,” he was unable to keep from saying, because one of the most interesting things about the SyFy channel was criticizing all of it while still appreciating the creativity and weirdness of it. It was how he’d bonded with Rhodey sometimes (because as much as his platypus was good at faking being some sort of modern-day saint, the guy was just as much of an asshole as Tony) and it was how he’d ended up bonding with Bruce when the other scientist wanted to spend some time outside of the lab.
And, as it turned out, it was gonna be the way he was going to bond with Barnes as well, because rather than sigh or roll his eyes, the guy just grinned and said, “I know”. Which was really all there was to it.
Half an hour later and he was sitting on the couch, hot chocolate in his hands, bantering with Barnes about the inaccuracies as they shared a bowl of popcorn.
After that, it sort of became a tradition. Whenever the two of them couldn’t sleep (and when Tony couldn’t focus on anything in the workshop (or, increasingly often, just kind of wanted company (and so what if it was Barnes’ company, specifically? No one needed to know about that))) they ended up meeting in the common room and sharing snacks while they watched (and criticized) (and admired) (and laughed at) the SyFy channel together.
Until the night Tony actually fell asleep.
He wasn’t even sure what they’d been watching. He did know that he hadn’t slept properly in a week, and the little sleep he did have was disturbed by nightmares that made little sense and left him shivering and frightened.
Still, he hadn’t expected to fall asleep. On Barnes. Or to wake up with the guy still there, awake, except with a blanket spread over Tony’s legs.
“That… wasn’t supposed to happen,” Tony rushed out once he realized what had happened. “I’m sorry, I… It won’t happen again.” Only years of practice made it possible to control the blush that threatened to show on his face, and he just knew his cheeks were a little pinker than they should be.
With that, he’d have left the room and not returned for at least a month, if not more. Except then Barnes spoke up, not looking at Tony. “It’s… It could, if you wanted to. I mean, I didn’t mind. It was… relaxing.”
By the end, his voice was nearly inaudible, and there was definitely a blush on his face as well. And knowing he wasn’t the only one feeling awkward, well… It helped relax Tony, enough to keep him from panicking and enough to make him realize that he felt more rested than he had in months (at least - ‘years’ sounded depressing, and ‘as long as he could remember’ sounded even worse, so he shrugged it off and thought ‘months’).
That didn’t mean he knew how to respond to Barnes’ admission. So he tried to keep it casual, shrugging. “I’ll probably see you some other night, then.” It was as close as he could get to saying ‘okay’, and from the way Barnes smiled ever-so-slightly, he thought the message had come across.
It helped, too, that it only took a few more occasions for Barnes to start falling asleep as well. They’d start out with the SyFy channel, or with some terrible movie either of them suggested, and end up leaning against one another, breathing slowing down until they were both asleep.
By the seventh night, they’d even stopped pretending they weren’t likely to fall asleep, instead starting out with blankets so they wouldn’t get cold in the middle of the night (even though Barnes ran hot enough that it didn’t tend to be too much of a problem, and JARVIS had a tendency of turning up the heat enough to make things bearable even without blankets - it was the acknowledgement that they were doing this on purpose that made the difference).
Tony noticed the difference for himself - he felt way better than before, both mentally and physically. If it hadn’t been for the fact that no alcohol- or drugs-inspired sleep had ever helped him as much, he would have started to wonder if he shouldn’t have forced this years earlier. But it appeared like it was Barnes being there that made the difference, especially since it was hardly the most comfortable sleep he’d had.
Combined with the fact that Barnes himself looked a lot better as well (since his raccoon eyes had disappeared and he seemed less likely to stab someone with whatever implement was closest), it was that fact that inspired Tony to speak up.
“So what do you say we move this to a bed?” he asked one night, before they could grab a blanket and settle in. It took some effort not to let his nervousness show, but he thought he’d managed quite well.
Barnes still tensed up, looking at him warily from where he was still sitting on the couch, snacks and remote already gathered. “To a bed?” he asked, and it was obvious that he was trying not to sound too suspicious (and it was obvious that he couldn’t help but be a little suspicious anyway).
“Just to sleep,” Tony assured him, holding his hands up. It wasn’t like he’d say no if Barnes wanted more - the guy was attractive, and smart, and kind, and funny, and it wasn’t as though he found sex unpleasant. But that wasn’t his intention here. “I mean, the sleeping is really helping me, but I can’t help but think my back and neck would thank me for sleeping in an actual bed. And the TV in my room is just as big as this one, so that wouldn’t be a problem either. If you’d rather stay here, though, I’m fine with that, too.”
The more he talked, the more he noticed Barnes relaxing, until he was actually smiling.
“Nah, a bed is fine.” He got up, bringing the snacks with him. “Just… wanted to make sure you weren’t expecting anything more, ‘s all.”
“Zero expectations,” Tony assured him, leading the way. He was aware of his own reputation, after all, and considering how well Barnes was doing on catching up with the modern world, there was little chance he hadn’t at least heard of his sex tapes and conquests.
He’d have been more than content to just let it be, honestly. He was in this for the fact that sleeping with Barnes there meant he finally got a good night’s sleep, not anything more. It was Barnes himself who brought it up again a few nights later, in the middle of some awful movie about some half-shark, half-octopus.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” he started, which rather startled Tony.
“What for?” Honestly, though, it better not be the whole ‘killing your parents while having been tortured into being a murder puppet for HYDRA’ again - Tony thought he’d finally managed to convince Barnes that while yes, it sucked, and yes, it was sorta him, he’d hardly had a choice and there was nothing to forgive.
As it turned out, that wasn’t it. “For the whole ‘nothing more’ thing,” Barnes explained. Before Tony could even start thinking about how to respond to that, he continued. “I mean, I know you’re gorgeous, and I swear if it was my thing I’d want to sleep with you in the other way, but it’s just… not. My thing, that is. And I hope it didn’t offend you or something, or make you think that I thought you weren’t… attractive. Or…”
“Whoa, hey,” Tony cut in before Barnes could continue, eyes wide. “Really, there’s no need to… explain anything, or excuse anything, or apologize. No need for any of that. You don’t want more, you don’t want more. That’s your prerogative.”
“It’s just that I heard about you… Well, your sex life. And I know you’re popular with the ladies, and some of the men as well, and I didn’t want you to think that it’s… I mean, I don’t want you to feel… rejected? Or like there’s something wrong with you. ‘Cause I think… I mean, I know it’s me something’s wrong with, but…”
At that, Tony paused the movie. This was something he thought deserved all of his attention. “Okay, let’s start this off properly. There’s nothing wrong with you.” When it looked like Barnes was about to say something, Tony shook his head. “No, listen. I don’t know if it’s the entire… HYDRA being dicks thing, or if this was always the case, and you’re not obliged to tell me either way, but there’s this whole new world of being allowed to be whoever you are, and asexuality is a thing. A valid thing.”
For a few moments, Barnes was silent. Then, almost hesitantly, he repeated, “Asexuality?”
“No interest in sex with other people, or rather, not experiencing sexual attraction. There’s… Well, let’s just say there’s a lot of variety in what you are and aren’t up to, and then there’s the whole… It’s probably easier to have J pull up a few sources than to explain it, but it’s not something wrong. Trust me.”
And there must’ve been a certain tone to his voice, because Barnes’ eyes sharpened as he looked at Tony. The question was clear, as was the moment Barnes made the decision not to ask.
Tony smiled wryly. “Some asexuals are sex-repulsed, and they tend to not want to have sex with others. Then there’s some who are sex-neutral or even sex-positive, which means the idea of having sex isn’t as bad, even though they’re… not that much into it, attraction-wise. I’m the last, which in my case means that while I don’t really feel sexual attraction, I don’t mind having sex for… Okay, I’ll admit, they haven’t always been healthy reasons. There was this whole period where I thought it was the only way to get affection, and even now it’s mostly for that feeling of closeness. But a lot of my sordid history was… well, me wanting to feel like someone cared.”
Cringing a bit, he hoped that didn’t sound as pathetic as it felt it did. “There was also a lot of ‘wanting to keep others happy’ involved, which meant I mostly didn’t say ‘no’. And like I said, it’s not like I mind it.”
He shrugged. His feelings towards sex had always been rather complicated and mixed up with his (totally nonexistent, if anyone asked) need for validation and affection.
“Oh…” Barnes breathed out, sounding rather stunned. Tony didn’t think it was in a bad way, though, not with the way he looked like a world had just opened up for him. He put effort into staying quiet and still, not wanting to take away from the other man’s moment. “I don’t think that’s me, though… The sex-positive thing, I mean. That is, others can do whatever they want, but…” He grimaced a bit at that, and Tony nodded to indicate he understood.
“Sex is definitely not for you,” he summarized, and Barnes nodded. “Which is totally fine - anyone tells you that you have to do anything you don’t want, feel free to flip them off.”
The relief was obvious. “That’s… good to know,” was all he ended up saying, before turning back to the screen. Getting the hint (and having some experience with having his worldview turned upside-down and needing some time to mentally absorb), Tony pressed the ‘play’-button again and sat back to continue watching as the people on the screen were eaten by a bad CGI-animation.
If he sent Barnes some links (via JARVIS) to look at in case he wanted to know more, well, that was only reasonable. There was a lot to figuring out part of your identity, after all, and Tony had no illusions that his explanation had been the most helpful.
They didn’t really mention it again, the following nights. Barnes showed up with home-made blueberry muffins the evening after Tony had sent the information, but other than that, they continued as they usually did - watching terrible sci-fi and falling asleep (and maybe ending up snuggled together a little more than Tony would admit to anyone except Pepper and Rhodey (and even those two only if they forced the subject)) and waking up astonishingly well-rested and at peace.
It was absolutely wonderful.