oh my god can you do “what can i do to help” or “your have kind eyes” from the soft prompts pls 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Tony’s eyes feel like they’re coated in sandpaper by the time he reaches the end of his last paper of the semester. He hasn’t had more than a few scattered hours of sleep per night in god knows how long, but it’s been too long, even for him. Which is how he comes to fall asleep right there on his laptop in the middle of the busy coffee shop he likes to study in. 

At least, it had been busy earlier. 

Now, the coffee shop is empty and Tony is unsticking his face from his notebook and trying to get his heart rate back down to normal. He’d jumped nearly out of his skin when someone tapped on his shoulder, rousing him from his impromptu nap.

“What!” Tony yelps, jolting forward and looking around, wild-eyed. 

In front of him is the blond-haired, blue-eyed barista that kept Tony coming back week after week. He made the best mochas, yes, without a doubt, but he always asked how Tony was doing like he really cared about the answer. It was nice, if Tony didn’t think too long about the fact that his most stable relationship is with his barista. 

Steve. 

Now, Steve is looking at him, all sweet and apologetic, and Tony realizes he probably has drool on his face. God, he was going to start sleeping in a bed again. Tonight. 

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” Steve says, rubbing at his neck. “You fell asleep,” he points out, unnecessarily. “I thought you might want to know that we’re closing. And I, uh, also brought you another mocha. You look like you need it.” 

Tony smiles despite his embarrassment. God, does he need it. 

“I swear I don’t usually fall asleep in public places,” Tony says. “Well, the library, sometimes. The park, once. And now here...” 

“Three times makes a habit,” Steve informs him, smiling shyly now. 

“Does it? Well then, I’m Tony Stark, and I sometimes fall asleep in public places. Admitting you have a problem is the first step, right? I have chronic exhausted college kid syndrome. Which means I definitely do need this,” Tony says, holding up the cup. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Steve says, still standing there and smiling at him, blue eyes shining. 

Tony stares at him a moment longer before blurting: “You have nice eyes. Or, I mean... Kind eyes. It was nice of you to bring me this, and you look kind... nice... eyes and all.” He’s babbling, his sleep-deprived brain getting the best of him again. Seriously, he’d listen to Pepper next time she lectured him about good sleep hygiene. And then he’d come back and flirt with Steve properly. 

Steve grins at him, though, his face flushing pale pink just as a voice calls from behind the counter. 

“Stevie, you gonna stop flirting and come help us close so we can get out of here at a halfway decent hour?”

The flush only deepens at this, but Tony is relieved not to be the only one out of his element here. 

“I should go,” Steve says. “Um. Enjoy the coffee,” he adds, looking down at the cup one last time. “And get some sleep!” 

Tony shoves his stuff in his bag, heart still beating haphazardly in his chest, and he’s halfway down the block before he lifts the cup to his lips to take a sip and sees it. 

Sweet dreams.

201-555-2347 Steve Rogers

It’s all Tony can do not to run back to the cafe or whoop aloud in delight. Sweet, indeed.