"Sssh," was enough of an answer to Steve's question. If something was really, urgently wrong, an alarm would be going off somewhere. As it was, no alarm, not need to make so much noise in the dark. Just like the light from the projected weather report, it wasn't welcome yet. Tony was surprised to find Steve still snuggled in bed, though, not halfway through a regular regimen of 1400 chin-ups or whatever it was he did with all that time he had in his day. The rumpled sheets were easy to pluck up from the bottom of the bed when Tony approached, and he tossed the newspaper he brought with up to the smooth, untouched half of the comforter for someone who cared to think about later. Tony crawled up the bed, between Steve's feet, nudging his legs for room. It was a pleasant surprise. From the clinically cold, bright garage and the icy floors of the kitchen, the warm cavern of Steve's bed was an unarguably inviting change. If Steve was going to hang around, maybe all Tony had left to do before his flight was to catch a nap.
Moving quite purposefully, though, he bowed, on his knees, and rested his head and cold ear on Steve's stomach, smelling the comforting heat and sleep sweat on his body. Tucking an arm under his thigh nudged it up, until his knee was bent and Tony could gather the leg of his shorts out of the way for a wet kiss to his skin in the dark. That was far more appropriate than light or noise. They had ease into being awake. One look at Thor reminded Tony that he really had to alleviate some stress if he wanted to maintain his good looks and command a fraction of the attention Goldilocks did. Maybe Steve didn't have that problem yet, but Tony's job was looking out for his future.