[Well. It's certainly not the worst thing he's done. With a Loki. How the hell did Tony find out about it though? It was tempting to try and deny things, but lying just wasn't in him, not to Tony.]
I wouldn't call it that. Not what happened here anyway. Who have you been talking to?
Tony don't be an ass. Talk to me. How can I help if you wan't tell me the problem? And yes, Loki delights in pushing buttons and you shouldn't let him upset you. Look, will you join me for a drink? Something? I'm worried about you . . .
With you it's impossible not to worry Tony, and we don't have to drink. We can just talk. I'd like that, if you'd just talk to me? I . . . I actually missed you all this time. I'd appreciate it if you took the time.
[Steve had learned a hell of a lot while on the island, and one of the most important things was to take what he could, when he could. And to be honest. If he didn't tell someone he cared, how were they to know? Lucas had managed to drum that into his head at least. It wasn't easy, but he forced himself to say the words anyhow. Or type them anyway.]
It's not that long! It's just a little . . . shaggy . . . But I'll see you there soon. Don't stand me up Tony. I know where you sleep.
[Which was less of a threat and more of a promise. But he was aware his appearance had grown a bit . . . casual. Though he was still normally clean-shaven, he'd forgotten to trim his hair in quite some time, and it was starting to be quite obvious . . .]
[ James enjoyed the respite of hiding away in Steve's room for almost a week, but eventually it got ridiculous to be curling up in his bed like he was a scared little kid. So after venturing outside a few times, and recovering enough that he felt more like himself again, he went back to his room. Not because he didn't appreciate Steve's room, and Steve's company, but because it just didn't feel right to be so dependent on someone else.
He wasn't sure yet how things were with Steve. They hadn't really spoken since he'd left, and sometimes the man could be pretty jealous and possessive, and feel rejected even when there was no cause for it. James didn't want to talk about any of these things. But he did want to see Steve, and check that things were alright between them.
So he left Steve a little gift in his room, on his bed. A journal full of empty pages for Steve to fill up as he saw fit, and a small note, counting that Steve would get in touch as soon as he saw it. ]
[The book on his bed was a little unexpected. His roommates didn't generally go into his room without asking, which Steve both appreciated and practiced himself, but it wasn't impossible someone had felt the need to leave the gift. If it was a gift. Someone could have left it by mistake.
Steve hesitated before lifting the note, then smiled wistfully. It didn't take him but a moment to send the man a message, still feeling the loneliness of his empty bed. Minor differences aside, he missed James. The man didn't ask anything from him he wasn't willing to give, and that meant a lot. He didn't expect Steve to be Steve. And he'd tried very hard not to ask too much of James either. Just his time.]
Dunno how a blank book makes up for a ruined sheet. You busy?
The pages aren't covered in my blood, to start. Besides, the hotel staff changes all the ruined linens, so it's just a symbolic gesture. I know you don't need a new sheet.
[ There was a pause after that text, as James pondered for a while. Steve had been so quick to ask if he was busy. How obvious had he been that he wanted to see Steve with that gift? Fuck, he really was growing soft for the man. ]
I cleaned my own sheets. Like I'd have let anyone in my room with you there. They might have bothered you.
[Or stolen him away somehow. Just because he wanted to kill the people that hurt his James didn't mean he was sorry the man had leaned on him for help. Steve liked a lot of the people he'd met in Hell, but only James had touched him deeply enough to evoke real emotions. Everyone else had so many complications, mostly on Steve's side, but James really didn't. Or hadn't. It was a little muddy now where they stood.
Okay, fine. But you still didn't have to buy the sheets.
[ James just rolled his eyes at that text, like Steve being so sweet and overprotective annoyed him, even if it also soothed something deep in him. He didn't bother unpacking that at the moment, couldn't afford that kind of weakness again. He'd been clingy and weak and dependent enough for that week he spent in Steve's room, now he wanted to go back to his own self.
... well, mostly. ]
Yeah. You're in your room, right? Stay where you are.
[ He was heading to Steve's room even as he typed up the reply, and five minutes later, ten at best, there was a knock on Steve's door. He'd come into the suite but he waited until Steve opened the door to his room to step inside, greeting the other man with a faint nod. ]
[He was only half-finished with his reply when the knock came and Steve tossed the device aside, not caring where it landed. James was going to have his full and undivided attention. Steve opened the door with a nervous smile, closing it behind James with a nod of his own. He hadn't known what to expect, but part of him was relieved at just the informal greeting. The other part wished James had done something naughty. Before the carnival, the man probably would have.
Steve leaned against the door, filling his greedy eyes with the sight of the man, too scared to just reach out and take what he wanted.]
[ Things felt a little awkward and tense, and it was such a stupid thing, because it never was that way between him and Steve, and it should be no different now. He stared at Steve for a few seconds, then just rolled his eyes slightly, sighing as he approached the bed and picked up the journal he'd left for him. ]
So you didn't like it? [ More of a taunt than anything, he lifted an eyebrow as he looked back up at Steve. ] I can always take it back. I like keeping journals.
[Steve moved fast, suddenly in front of James, his hand covering the man's on the journal. If the guy wanted to take that back, he had a fight on his hands. A big one.
He spoke softly, lips near James' ear, his hand warm and gentle over the other man's.]
I never said that. I appreciate any gift given to me, especially from you. But what's this about you liking journals? I didn't know that, but it explains a lot about why you gave me one.
[Steve bent his head lower, slowly nuzzling in just beneath James' ear, giving the man time to pull away if he wanted. His thumb stroked over James' knuckles slowly, hungry for the contact, almost desperate for it.]
[ He wasn't really planning on taking the journal for himself, but he was still surprised that Steve was so quick to make sure that he wouldn't. He didn't even try to fight it, nor the closeness between them, more and more unwilling to listen as the rational part of his mind tried to tell him this was probably not a good idea.
But it was kind of like trying to step away from the edge of a cliff when he was already falling. ]
I just like writing in them, I guess. It's nothing special.
[ He liked to do sketches too, but those he always kept to himself. He couldn't bring himself to share that even now, as distracting as it was to have Steve this close to him. Stroking his fingers, nuzzling against his neck. He shivered a little, eyes closing as he turned his head to the side, free hand sliding up Steve's arm. ]
[He was hungry. Hungry for touch, hungry for information, just plain hungry for James. What he felt for the man . . . it was definitely inadvisable, and yet he kept chasing the man. Seems his heart hadn't learned a lesson even after Lucas broke it to pieces. Or well, that he broke it to pieces over the man. Lucas had never lied about his unavailability.
Steve slid his tongue over James' skin, still holding the man's hand with the journal, his other arm sliding around James' waist. God he wanted more. So much more.]
No. Just... information. Thoughts. I never wrote anything about you.
[ There may be a vague sketch here and there, but he wasn't planning on showing them to Steve, so it didn't matter. Writing about Steve seemed a little too dangerous to him. How easy it would be to use his feelings for Steve against him if he just wrote about the man like that. ]
You really have missed me, hm? [ There was a hint of teasing in his tone, as he let himself be pulled closer, his arm circling Steve's neck. His fingers brushed through Steve's hair, fingertips rubbing against the scalp. ] Looks like you can't keep your hands off.
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