[ It's very sweet how Tony's so loving when he's drunk, though as Steve recalls, he's the same way. All he wants to do is hang off of his fiance and tell everyone how much they're in love. It feels wrong to brag about, feels like some sort of hubris that they'll get struck down for. But they haven't yet, and all attempts so far have fallen to the wayside. ]

Sickness and in health, Tony. Death do us part.

[ And even in that case, he thinks not. He's been dead for seventy years, and though in the case of his impending death he would want Tony to move on eventually, he knows the chances of that are exceedingly low. Likewise should Tony pass, Steve would just refuse to even put himself out there again, he thinks. He might bargain with God, with anyone with powers who would listen, to bring him back, if that were the case.

But that's a lot to think about for now. ]

And yes, Tony, you're really gonna feel this tomorrow. I don't think you're ready.

[ Because he hasn't drunk to excess in awhile and he's certainly not as young as he was back when he did, so Steve finished helping him take off his shirt, folds it nicely, and then helps with his pants, which will go a lot smoother if Tony obliges him. ]

But I'd never let you be alone.

[ He strips Tony down to his underwear, again, folding his clothes, before lying up by him, propping his head up on an elbow. He's unsurprisingly still fully dressed. ]

I promise.