It made sense. Of course it did. And Tony would be a lying liar who lied if he said he hadn't missed it. Because he had. That'd been one of the hardest things, after Siberia; having to come home battered and bruised with nothing to show for it, with one of his best friendships with a man he'd come to love and admire shattered into so many pieces.
It'd been a really bad year for Tony, no matter the brave face he'd put on. He'd lost out on a lot of family, and then lost even more after Thanos. Until he'd crash landed here, dizzy and sick on no air, water or food, Tony had been pretty damned certain that there'd been nothing left for him at all.
"I can make sure all the places have a power hook up," he said, because of course Steve would worry about people who weren't even here yet. He was a planner, both the same and different to Tony's futurism. "Soon we'll have something better. Solar panels, if I can get the right materials."
Tony shifted, pulling the blankets up with him even as he sat up. He never slept well, and now Steve was up ("trying" to sleep wasn't sleeping) he was no reason to pretend he was dozing either. "Yeah. Home is where the heart is. Or whatever. It's good of you." And a good distraction.