Tony grinned, full on, bright and unrestrainably wide. Leaning in, he touched their noses softly without even thinking about it. "Good." Because he had wanted to tell Steve that for a good long while now... but never had the bravery to do so. So maybe whatever this place was doing to his head wasn't such a horrible thing after all.

Nestling in closer to Steve, he let his eyes close as a low rumbling purr began to roil in his chest from the feeling of that hand on the back of his neck. "So do you, you always do... real sleep, not the kind you pretend is sleep." Having PTSD of his own tended to make him just as bad when it came to sleep. Not that he ever saw Steve sleep, but he could tell from watching him. Once Jarvis even asked about Steve's inability to sleep. Tony simply said nothing, not wanting to pry.

Now, he felt no shame in saying what he thought, if in a strange way. "Perfect pillow, perfectly good... you are perfect in all the ways that count in my imperfect mind." Perfect was a word Tony fought for, but knew he could never have. In everything from his work... to the person his heart fluttered for at the worst times.