Sympathy for the Devil
The first time Steve lays eyes on Tony he’s only a small thing tucked into his bed as deeply as he can burrow in, shivering with fever. A soft touch pushes through his sweat dampened hair and a sympathetic smile greets Steve she nye forces his eyes open. It’s a man he’s never seen before with a mustache and blue, blue eyes in pieces of a suit. HIs jacket is missing for some reason leaving his suspenders visible and his tie hangs loose around his neck like he was on his way off to bed for rest when he found Steve.
The touch to his forehead is gentle and blissfully cool. It coaxes Steve to shut his eyes again. The stranger hums, a low, rich sound that makes Steve shiver in a way that has nothing to do with his fever. Something tells him he should be afraid but Steve also finds himself very much wanting this stranger to stay.
“Who’re you?” Steve croaks out. His throat is sore and his head hurt. The hand smoothing his hair is pushing the pain in his head a little further away with each pass.
The man’s smile quirks on one side and he shrugs. “You wouldn’t believe me kid.”