[ Steve wants to smile at Tony and assure him that everything will go as planned, but he pauses because, disposal service? What on Earth? Though he had known that Tony before they'd met - really, before he'd tried to settle down with Pepper - was a bit of a cad, and he shouldn't really be surprised.
Yet, still, sometimes, he is.
Thor leans in and peers over them with a drunken smile and starts giving some relationship advice that really just boils down to him projecting a little about his relationship with Jane, and Steve can see that going real south real fast. ]
Yeah, buddy, I'm definitely always gonna let Tony pick what we watch on Netflix, but we don't really have a lot of shows we put on together.
[ And before Thor can start talking about what shows he and Jane used to watch, Steve veers off: ]
He's really only like this when drunk. I've never seen him this far gone. If he's still up to repeat tomorrow, I'm cutting him off before he gets like this.
[ At a red light, he does turn his face to give the top of Tony's head a kiss. ]
As cute as you're being right now. Should I carry you upstairs when we get to the tower?
[ On the not-so-bright side, it is Friday night and there's a lot of cars on the road, but it's a pretty straight shot down to the tower and he has FRIDAY send a message off to Happy just so he doesn't get surprised this time. ]
[All of it, apparently. Not very keen on the idea of the two talking around him like he can't hear them. He can. He's just not processing anything quickly or responding correctly or coherently. But that's not really his problem. It all sounds great to him. All makes sense to him.
His head angles back, and he tries to go in for an actual kiss but misses and instead pecks Steve's cheek a few times over before settling again against him.]
Yes. But. Not up the stairs. We have elevator. [He's definitely sure he said an in there. He totally did.] Just tell FRI to go up. She'll-'s got the rest. She's smart. I made her that way.
[Yes, Tony, the most advanced AI on the planet certainly knows how to go up.]
[ Steve just pats Tony on the shoulder as they close in on the tower, driving into the garage which is completely empty at this time of day, since it's private access. Thor leans back and mentions something about taking a long nap after drunken revelries, and as Steve pulls into the spot right by the door, Happy's there to help as Steve raises his eyebrows up at him and gives him an apologetic smile.
Apologetic because since there's no way Tony's letting go of Steve, and he's very much disentangling himself to get out of the driver's side, that means Happy's gotta take care of Thor, and Thor weighs like a ton and seems more than happy to embrace humans with just a little too much strength. ]
I could carry you all the way up the stairs. But I think we'll save a little time today.
[ There is, of course, always someone at the receptionist desk, and they buzz the group of them in because it's not like they really need to be identified, though bless Happy, he at least holds up a badge.
By the time the two of them leave out of the elevator, Thor's patting Happy on the back and mentioning something about letting him try the Asgardian liquor and continuing the party, but Steve trusts Happy to make a responsible decision as the elevator doors close and they're left alone again. ]
[Out of everyone that's been with Tony for years and years (and that list is very small), Happy might be the most attuned to what the end of a long boy's night out looks like. Or what cleanup may or may not be involved. At least right now he has Steve as his wingman to help with that. Even if Thor's a bit more than he usually bargains for.
Tony, meanwhile, is feeling the world still crawl by him in a bit of a disorienting manner because everything is moving and now he's moving and it doesn't feel great. So he's glad to have Steve to hold onto, one arm around his shoulders as he's being carried, face tucked into the side of Steve's neck.
There's still more drunken murmuring, because Tony never shuts up on a good day, but especially when there's absolutely no filter.]
Gonna carry me like this- over the threshold- when we get married? Then maybe I'll put on the suit. And I'll carry you.
[The sound of the elevator doors opening and closing and then opening again as they reach the Penthouse completely goes by his notice. All that matters is that Steve's got him. And, because he brought it to his own attention, he presses a smile into the side of Steve's neck next and can't seem to delightedly and drunkenly help say-]
We're getting married.
[Which of course, yes, he's still very excited about.]
[ Steve holds onto Tony like he is a puppy or something, but it's all out of love. ]
I think we're only supposed to go over the threshold once, but I don't mind if you wanna put on the suit and be the one to do it.
[ And he's also pretty sure it comes from a tradition of the bride not wanting to seem to eager to consummate the marriage, and therefore, taking away all avenues of onlookers telling everyone she rushed back home, but he's also about a hundred percent sure that their friends are going to know exactly what they're rushing away to do. ]
We are, the future Mr. Tony Stark-Rogers.
[ That's a mouthful, but he doesn't tire of saying it. He pecks little kisses to Tony's cheek as he helps him lay down on the bed, and starts to take off his clothes. In the off-chance that Tony just wants to call it a night, or falls asleep before they get around to the part they unceremoniously kicked Thor out over, that'd be just fine. ]
Why don't I get you a glass of water?
[ He asks, gently taking off Tony's other shoe and with his foot in his lap, giving it a little rub while he's here. ]
[He has to say it. In fact he says it a few more times, each time more sing-songy than the last. It just sounds so good. But that changes once Steve sets him down in bed and the second he's there he just falls all the way back like it's the only place he wants to be. Like gravity increased tenfold and he can't move his limbs.
The bed is nice. And good. And otherwise stable while the room is still so very rudely moving around him. There's no telling at this point if he'll even remember how he got home come tomorrow. He's also extremely unhelpful with the removal of his clothes, but thankfully Steve doesn't really need his assistance.
There's a soft breath out, his arm reaching up to cover his eyes in perhaps a very dramatic looking pose.]
But I don't want you to go.
[A definite whine like it means Steve's getting up and leaving forever. So that's a problem he's not looking to solve. Or is already solved, actually, as long as Steve stays right there.]
I won't be gone long, and I always come back to you.
[ He knows Tony's definitely too drunk to appreciate a footrub, but he will tomorrow when the rest of him feels like warmed-over trash bags on a Manhattan sidewalk. He does, in fact, remember what hangovers are like, despite not having suffered from one for at least seventy years. ]
Then I'm gonna work on getting the rest of you undressed.
[ He leans over Tony, then, abandoning his post so he can press kisses to his cheek and to his mouth, tasting sweet honey mead off his lips still. ]
Deal?
[ But before he can let Tony answer, he gets up by lifting Tony's legs and climbing out from underneath him to go fetch a cup of water for him, in hopes that it helps his dehydration tomorrow.
He's back quickly, gently coaxing Tony to sit up, propping him up on several pillows and hoping that he's comfortable. He hopes he never has to see Tony sick again, but he thinks he'll be duly prepared to take care of him if he ever is. ]
[He reaches out to poke Steve incredibly weakly in the chest, obviously showing that he means business. And that Steve better not dare wander because what will he do then? But for all his theatrics he softens the second Steve's over him, and instead then his hand is trying to grab his shirt, keep him there while Steve's doting on him with physical affection.]
Deal. Very deal. Sounds sexy.
[A little smiley laugh against Steve's lips. And to his credit he doesn't get very woe is me about Steve leaving, instead finding incentive to attempt to take his clothes off because he's an adult and he can help do that. But he barely gets out of his shirt before either giving up or forgetting what he's doing or both. It's a lot of work, and moving, and he very suddenly doesn't want to be doing that.
When Steve comes back and helps him resettle he breathes out a sigh of relief, but it's followed up by one of those sunny patters of laughter that goes on for just a short time until-]
Oh. I'm in trouble tomorrow.
[Becoming self aware in his drunkenness about how much tomorrow is going to suck. But it's funny right now. Fuck tomorrow him. That's not his problem. But it will be. And through another sweet batch of giggles he tries to talk about something pressing.]
Promise you won't call the engagement off- if I'm a monster tomorrow- you can just leave me- not forever- just tomorrow-
[So very valiantly trying to spare Steve. He's a very thoughtful lover in that way.]
[ 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. ]
[Overly defensive of a line of thinking he started. And said even though he definitely won't be. And he knows it, too, but right now is good. Great, even. He feels fine if a little bit too drunk. If he'd had another he would probably be throwing up about now, so it's good that Steve arrived when he did.
And it's thoughts like that, while Steve is also soothing him in other ways, reminding him that he'll always be there for him that have that lopsided smile appearing, limbs loose and cooperative while Steve finally gets the last of his clothes off. He turns to him when he lies down beside him, heavy, wobbly hand lifting to plunk his palm down against Steve's heart.]
My hero. You are- you know.
[Like it's very important for him to know that. But suddenly something seems very not right in his world and he's moving again. Trying to, anyway, having to rock a bit to get into motion. Even then once he figures out what the hell he's doing he doesn't go far. Instead he moves just enough to lay his head in Steve's lap- maybe remembering that's what he said he wanted- and he does.
He curls up there, legs tucked up, nuzzling a little into Steve's thigh. And though there was a gap between that last statement and the one forthcoming, he talks like there hadn't been.]
You were before- long time ago- before dad got involved and over- ...over-... made everything worse.
[The word his smart brain is looking for is overcomplicated but it's a little too far out of his grasp right now.]
Small window where war stories were fun and I liked you before he ruined it I think there's pictures somewhere. Maybe Halloween don't tell anyone... very embarrassing.
[One very long string of words that are fast in some parts and slurred, slow and unfocused in others. Smiling through all of it, eyes closed.]
[ Oh, of all the things that Tony was going to tell Steve while drunkenly laying his head to rest in his lap, that wasn't on his list at all.
He gently strokes his hand through Tony's hair, offering him comfort if he can, the other one brushing against his shoulders. He sits up because it's easier this way, leans over Tony protectively like he always is. ]
Don't worry Tony, your secret's safe with me, though I might ask FRIDAY for a corroboration.
[ Because little Tony being a fan of the man he was going to marry someday is - okay, kind of creepy when said like that - but cute, nonetheless, and feels a little bit like fate, almost. Because for Tony, there had never really been a time without Steve. Not just Captain America, the hero, but Steve, the person, the person who had been his father's friend, who had died a long time ago.
And he does like to think that, had he had the opportunity, he would have been Tony for every step of his life. ]
It's not that embarrassing to wear the stars and stripes. I do it all the time.
[ He knows that's not what he means, but he curls his fingers into Tony's hair and can't help but to tease a bit. It might make sense to him, now, why he likes to listen to Steve's stories so much. Maybe it, in a way, reminds him of a time his childhood was good. Maybe it makes Howard's old stories seem so much more real. ]
She won't. Not digital. -'m sure if she had hands she'd help you sort.
[They're not in the almighty cloud or a server somewhere, he means. They exist only in physical print. Because it's never been a priority to Tony, to digitize old memories that just make him feel sullen. They're sitting in boxes somewhere, one of the old estates. Gathering dust.
He's never been one to hang onto the past like that. Even if that's exactly what he's doing. Just that it's easier to ignore, when it's miles away at any given time, and definitely not obtainable by just asking his AIs to show him things from times long gone.
Now that Steve's sitting up, though, lap forming a bit more for Tony to curl into, he turns on his back, face up towards Steve, eyes closed and quite visibly enjoying those little touches through his hair. If Steve isn't careful he's liable to fall asleep right there eventually.
Though he breathes out a soft little noise of amusement that turns into an actual bubble of laughter that he can't help. Half-lidded alcohol-glazed eyes glance up Steve's way.]
Finally worth ten guys huh?
[It's a joke that probably makes zero sense and also makes less sense in the context it's being drawn from. But it makes sense to him and it's funny. That old I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. Their first (second? first-and-a-half?) fight. When they couldn't stand each other and nothing felt stable. They'd both gone verbally for each other's throats, and Steve had definitely crawled right under his skin. Funny, now, because that's still where he is. But it's comfortable and perfect now, and Tony would do anything to keep him there. A stark contrast to that small sliver of time before where he would have likewise done anything to shed himself of Steve and his knowing gaze and the way he cut him down to size.]
[ Oh, then Steve supposes he'll be spending lots of time in one of the old Stark basements going through things. He's sure they're all stored in mint condition - after all, he knows Fury hadn't kept Steve's belongings. He knows Peggy hadn't taken them across the pond. And so, that left Howard, and by extension, that left Tony.
He's almost certain that he's paying top dollar to store all those old memories somewhere where they're dry and in a cool, dark place but nowhere possibly that he'll have to deal with them.
Or they might be at the bottom of the Pacific now, thanks to Aldritch Killian. Steve is going to hedge his bets.
It strikes him deep in the heart when Tony asks, his eyes going wide, because of course he remembers. He'd regretted it the instant it came out of his mouth, and then about a thousand times holding his breath as Tony lay on the pavement, helmet ripped off, breath stilled. Tony didn't have to prove him wrong, but he did. Tony didn't have to nearly die, but he did.
Steve closes his eyes for a second, reflecting, but he knows Tony hates it when he gets upset. ]
More than that.
[ And okay, maybe that'd been what had made him think that Steve had been unfaithful - he'd technically maybe essentially said it was him and Buck against everybody else, and so maybe the sheer contrast in quantity of perceived worthiness is what got under Tony's skin, and as it sticks in Steve's heart and twists, he thinks he ought to rectify this. ]
Tony, I didn't have the right to judge you, and I still don't, not really. But to me, you're worth the whole entire world.
[ He doesn't want to ruin their position, so he brings two fingers to his lips, and then presses them against Tony's. ]
[Steve seems to be going through something and Tony's a bit too addled to really understand what. But it's something enough, and he reaches an uncoordinated hand up, tips of his fingers tracing the line of Steve's jaw and then clumsily trying to hold the side of his face. It was a joke- haha funny. But that's often how he cloaks his trauma, the things that have sat in his chest after burrowing there despite his wishes. Yes, he carries these things with him. Always. More so because he never does work to undo any of them. Letting them harden his exterior-
But it's less that. He and Steve are far over that hump. He's so in love with the man he barely knows what to do with himself most of the time they're together. Can't imagine a life where they're not like this and less like that. The version of himself that he's joking about.
His arm flops back down towards the bed outstretched, and his brow arches, soft smile tugging at his lips when Steve presses there. He's moving again then, same arm that had just crash-landed back to the bed lifting, wobbly, so he can take Steve's hand and hold it against the side of his face instead.]
And everything about you is definitely more special than what came out of a bottle.
[That sounds right enough. Not that he's got enough of a filter to recalibrate sentences properly. But if they're in the middle of correcting their very earliest misgivings, he wants to play his part too.]
Also at this point- it's you- definitely. If anyone can judge me. So. You're wrong about that. You're always on the right side of everything. You're better. What you say goes.
[Lifting his hand yet again, as always unable to remain still even when inebriated, he gives one of those mock two fingered salutes and a sunnier smile. But this he means, too. Steve's the best out of all of them, not that he likes any of the Avengers less. But Steve's his north star, sometimes his moral compass, and, yes, generally always right. Much as Tony purports to be. And to Tony, he'll always be the better man of the two of them.]
[ At the time, Steve had been lost, feeling a little bit adrift. He'd lost pretty much everything, including his sense of self, his sense of belonging anywhere, as he'd been displaced in time. And so, when Tony had accused him of those things, yes, he'd taken it personally. When he'd expected Tony to have welcomed him like his father had, yes, he'd maybe held it against him a little bit.
It's not an excuse for what Steve had said to Tony. And likewise, Tony's feelings of meeting Steve, a ghost for whom he'd competed with for his father's love, is also not an excuse for things he'd said, either. But he supposes like he understands and forgives Tony for having said them a long time ago, he has to accept that Tony does, too.
He cups Tony's cheek and gently plays with his beard. ]
Well if that's true, then stop telling me I'm biased whenever I say nice things about you.
[ Got him there. And he knows it'll take more than his words to get Tony to believe it. Tony has to want to believe that he's good, that he's just as good a man as Steve is. He can only do his part, but he can't bring Tony to that conclusion.
A small smile tugs on his lips when Tony gives him a salute. He might've thought it sarcastic once upon a time, but now with a ring on Tony's bent finger - a ring that Steve had helped to design and to forge himself, he knows the intent is only filled with love.
[Aiming a dopey smile his way, like he knows this to be the entire truth of things. In fact, so much so, that he reaches up to poke Steve in the chest for emphasis. Then with that very same uncoordinated hand he lifts further up to attempt to poke the tip of Steve's nose but he's clearly moving around far too much for that because he ends up nudging his cheek instead at first, and then slowly drags his finger towards his nose.
Steve is biased by love- especially considering how enduring and intense theirs is for each other. But. That's okay. Steve does also have a point that Tony has a point. Or however this is working out. He doesn't have enough brain power to continue to refute or try to do the math on this one.
Still lazing in his lap, looking up at him, Steve's smile seems to put Tony in an endless feedback loop with the one he's wearing. Though he does seem only slightly confused about the question until he thinks he gets why it's being asked.]
Why? You gonna warm me up?
[Really if he lies there for five minutes uninterrupted he'll probably fall asleep. But until that happens, like always, he's enamored with Steve and will keep talking to him or simply listening to him talk for as long as he can.]
[ Of course Tony would still be flirtatious even though he's so drunk he's talking about old halloween costumes. Though Tony had promised quite a few things tonight, Steve won't exactly be heartbroken if they don't get around to doing them, since he also adores these little chats.
And, also, he won't admit it but sitting and listening to Tony bare some part of his soul that he didn't even want Steve to see is more intimate than the act of sex. Well. Okay, it's at least more intimate than the act of drunken sex, because it's still very hard to beat how Tony always makes Steve feel.
He gives a jovial roll of his eyes and gives Tony's nose a little pinch. ]
Yes, by putting you under the blankets and joining you.
[ And normally, he'd ask Tony to help him take his clothes off, but he's not sure it'd be a good idea to sit Tony back up again, so he starts unbuttoning his shirt, though if Tony wants to help, he can always get Steve's pants.
He assumes Tony's going to be no help, or worse than, but Steve loves him all the same.
And, of course, in a single quiet moment, his thought strays back to the thing his thoughts usually stray to now. ]
You know, the hardest thing about writing my vows is that for some reason I keep thinking there's gonna be a perfect thing to say to you, and I just haven't found it yet. I feel like the harder I look for it, the further away it gets from me.
[His mood is liable to swing wildly back and forth when things catch his attention. Right now the one thing worth doing is, obviously, flirting with him. Which is always rewarding and never a bad idea. Which is why the very next thing out of his mouth with an attempt at a seductive smirk that might be marred by how drunk he is-]
You could put something in me instead.
[And he thinks that's a great line. He also thinks Steve thinks that's a great line because wow there goes his shirt and Tony's hand lifts in a wobble, like the weight of his entire arm is too heavy, gravity turned up a bit, and plants his heavy hand against Steve's chest. The touch is less flirtatious and he might almost immediately forget, again, what his plans were. Even if he had any.
Because instead of feeling him up he kind of just holds steady there against Steve's heart. Enjoying that deep thrum underneath his fingertips. That heart is his, forever they're very agreed now, and he'd do anything to protect it. It catches him a little that Steve must be feeling sentimental too and he tries so hard to parse through everything being said and not say something stupid in return- because he does realize he's very drunk.]
You have a knack for always saying the right thing at the right time. And not just- not just your Cap speeches- though I think we agree you're great at rallying. But sometimes you'll just look at me and say something that makes me feel like-
[His eyes squint in concentration because he's really trying okay.]
-I couldn't be loved like anyone loves me- like you love me- there's a pre-you and a post-you and I'm settled. I couldn't go back.
[Nope. None of that made sense. Probably. But he tries one more thing.]
Don't worry about the vows so much. Whatever you end up saying will be the thing I was waiting to hear. That's how it always is with you.
[...was that better? He's at least smiling like it was.]
[ There's no real action behind these words here, because they've happily moved onto being sweet instead.
He knows that whatever he says, that Tony will love it, because he always does. But he wants more than to just touch him, he wants to tell him something he'll never forget. That he'll take until his dying days, that he'll remind Steve of someday when they're old.
He wants it to stick with Tony as long as "you're not the guy to make the sacrifice play" has. He wants whatever he says to completely erase and supplant that.
It's a tall order. ]
I know. I just want it to be perfect. For you.
[ He takes off his tank top too, and works gently on his pants, trying not to shift Tony too much as he gets out of them, kicks them off all the way, pats the empty spot on the bed. ]
Let me lay down with you?
[ He thinks even if Tony starts anything up, he'll likely fall asleep partway through making out, but it's fine. It's cute. Steve loves this side of him, even though he'll be happy never to see it again, if it keeps Tony on the wagon.
And, regardless, he does shift them around so he can get them both in a lying position on the bed, what with Tony being much more difficult to move as a noodly drunk, but no match for Steve. He turns his head a bit, and rests it on Tony's shoulder. ]
You never talk to me about your childhood. I know you didn't like it, but there must've been some good times, right? Like Halloween?
[He says this with all the drunken confidence he can muster but mostly he knows he's right. He's generally always right about most things except a few huge things we don't need to talk about- but Steve, especially, he knows will say the exact perfect thing when they're standing up there. Not a doubt in his mind.
Steve moving around gets a breathy noise that's mostly a whine that he thinks twice about a little too late because, hey, Steve's getting naked. And he's very all about that, hands a bit overly touchy right before Steve makes a request and since Tony can normally never say no to him he just nods. And doesn't really do much else to facilitate this request because moving seems really hard.
But thankfully he has Steve for that, who gets him upright and the both of them laid down where he then soaks up every physical inch of Steve's space and warmth possible.
Then Steve's asking him something when he was in the middle of drifting, not particularly off to sleep but just comfortably drunk drifting and he has to remember words. Worse yet he has to remember things.]
Jarvis made everything better.
[One of the sunnier spots in his childhood apparently, and one of the things he thinks to say for whatever reason.]
We did a few Halloweens. Maybe three or four. He and my mom would take me out- mom would leave when I wanted to stay out longer but he'd stay for me. They tried. I didn't make it easy.
[One wonders where talk like that comes from.]
I ripped my costume one time right before we were supposed to go out and I thought that meant they wouldn't take me so I made a big deal about it and he busted out a sewing kit right there and stitched it up.
[Thoughts colliding into each other, words in an endless freefall until he stops telling that story. Eyes closed, breathing out a long sigh, quietly he says after that small lapse,]
I miss Jarvis.
[And JARVIS. And his mom. And sure, his dad, too. Siberia wasn't that long ago. He doesn't wanna think about any of this.]
[ He never means to drudge up bad feelings in Tony, but somehow he always manages to. It's why he never wants to talk about his childhood, even if all Steve wants him to do is focus on the good parts of it. The parts where he'd been happy.
Jarvis had been a wonderful man. Steve's all the worse off for never having had the opportunity to meet him, he's sure of it.
But he doesn't want to hurt Tony by talking more about him when he knows that he always takes the good things well like everyone else, yes, but the hard things so much harder. ]
Trick or treating wasn't really a thing in my childhood, wasn't until I was a teenager that it really caught on. I guess --
[ He means to say Buck and I, but what he just says is singular. ]
--I tried to go a couple Halloween parties, but they weren't really for me.
[ He gently brushes Tony's hair back, and dots kisses on his shoulder, also ready to drift off anytime they decide to finish this conversation. ]
We could try this year. I'll even let you pick the costumes if you remember this tomorrow.
[There's a definite lull to his tone, though some of it is just a little dreamy. Like he actually is dreaming up this scenario- Steve, much smaller than he's used to, holding his hands together in some corner while rowdy teens are drinking and having a good time, and he's very much not.]
It's 'cuz I wasn't throwing them. You do better, when they're mine.
[Does this make sense? No. Does it need to? Also no. His idea simply being that Steve seems to always have a better time when Stark Parties are happening. But more than that, just that they both have a better time, when they're both together. Definitely doesn't make sense in this context but it makes him happy.
And he exhales, soft and slow, eyes closing and staying that way this time, snuggling in just a little more. Definitely enjoying those gentle touches that threaten to send him drifting so far down he'll be there for a while. Until the morning when he's far less amicable and sweet.]
You'll regret that. I think maybe. Fishnets. Or leather. Sexy cop's too obvious. Maybe I'll put you in one of those Iron Dancer costumes. You'd look great in that.
[The incredibly revealing ones with the booty shorts, the bras, the gloves. Yes. Steve would look great in those. Even the heels, he bets.]
[ He does do better at Stark parties, because even back when they'd been just coworkers and could barely call each other friends, Tony had tried his hardest to make sure there were plenty of Steve-friendly activities for him to do at them, like that other veterans were invited so he'd have someone to talk to.
It was sweet, in a way. Tony always knew how to make everyone feel like they were having a good time. Even now, just drunk and lying in Steve's lap and talking about things that won't happen for a few months yet, it feels... nice. Relaxing. And that Steve wouldn't rather be anywhere else. ]
Only if you put on one of those old USO dancer uniforms. Bet your legs would look nice putting on those little silver heels.
[ He reaches down to give his thighs a little pat. And he's sure Tony's not serious, because Steve is probably not going to show up anywhere in hot shorts without making headlines, but he would maybe put on a modified and slightly less revealing outfit.
He'd put on the heels, if Tony wanted to see him with ridiculously defined quads and about seven foot tall with the platforms. ]
You know, the first helmet I ever wore with the costume on was one of the girls'. But I always preferred the hats.
[ He mimes putting a helmet on Tony, and then mimes lifting it, then kissing his forehead. ]
I think even if we don't end up with those costumes, you should get one anyway, and model it for me.
Sure. Order one- would have FRIDAY do it but there are rules when I'm this drunk.
[At least that's a thing, right? That he has contingencies? Probably for very real reasons. Otherwise, yes, he probably literally would have asked her to find and order the most authentic outfit possible with his measurements and it'd have been there in a couple days.
...which is why he has to have protocols.
His blinks are slow, eyes half-lidded and smile wide and sunny, even if a little still alcohol-dazed as he looks at Steve. Although his eyes similarly drift closed once again at that kiss to his forehead. He turns in a little more, occupying every crevice he can, leaving no free space between him and Steve as he magnetizes into his side and cuddles in.]
Done deal. Hat- hairpins- hairspray and all. Anything you want. All you have to do is say.
[And even though he's still incredibly intoxicated, this much is the truth. He'd do anything for Steve. Certainly fun bedroom escapades. But everything else, too. Which is why, as he rests a hand over Steve's heart, he feels like he needs to remember to say-]
I love you. Thanks.
[There's a small beat between that last word and his next thought, he might have dozed off. But he finishes the sentiment eventually.]
[ He knows all he has to do is say the word and have Tony at his beck and call, doing anything for him, saying anything for him. And that's scary some days, knowing he has that power over him, knowing Tony has that power over him in return. But Steve's had people that he'd do anything for, all his life. So that part isn't the one that makes him feel dizzy with vertigo.
No, it's how unreasonable Tony could get when he wants to do something for Steve, when he wants to ensure Steve's happiness or his safety.
Someday, he thinks, that'll get them into a whole load of trouble. But today, he'll happily press more kisses to Tony's face, pepper them on his cheek and his nose and finally, his mouth. ]
I always will, sweetheart.
[ But then he furrows his brow. ]
Well, I love you. And I didn't even do anything. Just drove you home.
[ He takes Tony's hand and kisses the inside of his wrist, lays it gently on his cheek, cuddles into him so they can settle in for the night. Tony's not making a whole lot of sense right now but he often doesn't. And when he's drunk, he's at his most honest. It's not that he ever lies or really hides things from Steve, but he does want him to keep going because these are the most unfiltered, slightly inscrutable Tony thoughts he could possibly receive, and he treasures them. ]
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Yet, still, sometimes, he is.
Thor leans in and peers over them with a drunken smile and starts giving some relationship advice that really just boils down to him projecting a little about his relationship with Jane, and Steve can see that going real south real fast. ]
Yeah, buddy, I'm definitely always gonna let Tony pick what we watch on Netflix, but we don't really have a lot of shows we put on together.
[ And before Thor can start talking about what shows he and Jane used to watch, Steve veers off: ]
He's really only like this when drunk. I've never seen him this far gone. If he's still up to repeat tomorrow, I'm cutting him off before he gets like this.
[ At a red light, he does turn his face to give the top of Tony's head a kiss. ]
As cute as you're being right now. Should I carry you upstairs when we get to the tower?
[ On the not-so-bright side, it is Friday night and there's a lot of cars on the road, but it's a pretty straight shot down to the tower and he has FRIDAY send a message off to Happy just so he doesn't get surprised this time. ]
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[All of it, apparently. Not very keen on the idea of the two talking around him like he can't hear them. He can. He's just not processing anything quickly or responding correctly or coherently. But that's not really his problem. It all sounds great to him. All makes sense to him.
His head angles back, and he tries to go in for an actual kiss but misses and instead pecks Steve's cheek a few times over before settling again against him.]
Yes. But. Not up the stairs. We have elevator. [He's definitely sure he said an in there. He totally did.] Just tell FRI to go up. She'll-'s got the rest. She's smart. I made her that way.
[Yes, Tony, the most advanced AI on the planet certainly knows how to go up.]
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Apologetic because since there's no way Tony's letting go of Steve, and he's very much disentangling himself to get out of the driver's side, that means Happy's gotta take care of Thor, and Thor weighs like a ton and seems more than happy to embrace humans with just a little too much strength. ]
I could carry you all the way up the stairs. But I think we'll save a little time today.
[ There is, of course, always someone at the receptionist desk, and they buzz the group of them in because it's not like they really need to be identified, though bless Happy, he at least holds up a badge.
By the time the two of them leave out of the elevator, Thor's patting Happy on the back and mentioning something about letting him try the Asgardian liquor and continuing the party, but Steve trusts Happy to make a responsible decision as the elevator doors close and they're left alone again. ]
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Tony, meanwhile, is feeling the world still crawl by him in a bit of a disorienting manner because everything is moving and now he's moving and it doesn't feel great. So he's glad to have Steve to hold onto, one arm around his shoulders as he's being carried, face tucked into the side of Steve's neck.
There's still more drunken murmuring, because Tony never shuts up on a good day, but especially when there's absolutely no filter.]
Gonna carry me like this- over the threshold- when we get married? Then maybe I'll put on the suit. And I'll carry you.
[The sound of the elevator doors opening and closing and then opening again as they reach the Penthouse completely goes by his notice. All that matters is that Steve's got him. And, because he brought it to his own attention, he presses a smile into the side of Steve's neck next and can't seem to delightedly and drunkenly help say-]
We're getting married.
[Which of course, yes, he's still very excited about.]
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I think we're only supposed to go over the threshold once, but I don't mind if you wanna put on the suit and be the one to do it.
[ And he's also pretty sure it comes from a tradition of the bride not wanting to seem to eager to consummate the marriage, and therefore, taking away all avenues of onlookers telling everyone she rushed back home, but he's also about a hundred percent sure that their friends are going to know exactly what they're rushing away to do. ]
We are, the future Mr. Tony Stark-Rogers.
[ That's a mouthful, but he doesn't tire of saying it. He pecks little kisses to Tony's cheek as he helps him lay down on the bed, and starts to take off his clothes. In the off-chance that Tony just wants to call it a night, or falls asleep before they get around to the part they unceremoniously kicked Thor out over, that'd be just fine. ]
Why don't I get you a glass of water?
[ He asks, gently taking off Tony's other shoe and with his foot in his lap, giving it a little rub while he's here. ]
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[He has to say it. In fact he says it a few more times, each time more sing-songy than the last. It just sounds so good. But that changes once Steve sets him down in bed and the second he's there he just falls all the way back like it's the only place he wants to be. Like gravity increased tenfold and he can't move his limbs.
The bed is nice. And good. And otherwise stable while the room is still so very rudely moving around him. There's no telling at this point if he'll even remember how he got home come tomorrow. He's also extremely unhelpful with the removal of his clothes, but thankfully Steve doesn't really need his assistance.
There's a soft breath out, his arm reaching up to cover his eyes in perhaps a very dramatic looking pose.]
But I don't want you to go.
[A definite whine like it means Steve's getting up and leaving forever. So that's a problem he's not looking to solve. Or is already solved, actually, as long as Steve stays right there.]
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[ He knows Tony's definitely too drunk to appreciate a footrub, but he will tomorrow when the rest of him feels like warmed-over trash bags on a Manhattan sidewalk. He does, in fact, remember what hangovers are like, despite not having suffered from one for at least seventy years. ]
Then I'm gonna work on getting the rest of you undressed.
[ He leans over Tony, then, abandoning his post so he can press kisses to his cheek and to his mouth, tasting sweet honey mead off his lips still. ]
Deal?
[ But before he can let Tony answer, he gets up by lifting Tony's legs and climbing out from underneath him to go fetch a cup of water for him, in hopes that it helps his dehydration tomorrow.
He's back quickly, gently coaxing Tony to sit up, propping him up on several pillows and hoping that he's comfortable. He hopes he never has to see Tony sick again, but he thinks he'll be duly prepared to take care of him if he ever is. ]
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[He reaches out to poke Steve incredibly weakly in the chest, obviously showing that he means business. And that Steve better not dare wander because what will he do then? But for all his theatrics he softens the second Steve's over him, and instead then his hand is trying to grab his shirt, keep him there while Steve's doting on him with physical affection.]
Deal. Very deal. Sounds sexy.
[A little smiley laugh against Steve's lips. And to his credit he doesn't get very woe is me about Steve leaving, instead finding incentive to attempt to take his clothes off because he's an adult and he can help do that. But he barely gets out of his shirt before either giving up or forgetting what he's doing or both. It's a lot of work, and moving, and he very suddenly doesn't want to be doing that.
When Steve comes back and helps him resettle he breathes out a sigh of relief, but it's followed up by one of those sunny patters of laughter that goes on for just a short time until-]
Oh. I'm in trouble tomorrow.
[Becoming self aware in his drunkenness about how much tomorrow is going to suck. But it's funny right now. Fuck tomorrow him. That's not his problem. But it will be. And through another sweet batch of giggles he tries to talk about something pressing.]
Promise you won't call the engagement off- if I'm a monster tomorrow- you can just leave me- not forever- just tomorrow-
[So very valiantly trying to spare Steve. He's a very thoughtful lover in that way.]
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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.
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[Overly defensive of a line of thinking he started. And said even though he definitely won't be. And he knows it, too, but right now is good. Great, even. He feels fine if a little bit too drunk. If he'd had another he would probably be throwing up about now, so it's good that Steve arrived when he did.
And it's thoughts like that, while Steve is also soothing him in other ways, reminding him that he'll always be there for him that have that lopsided smile appearing, limbs loose and cooperative while Steve finally gets the last of his clothes off. He turns to him when he lies down beside him, heavy, wobbly hand lifting to plunk his palm down against Steve's heart.]
My hero. You are- you know.
[Like it's very important for him to know that. But suddenly something seems very not right in his world and he's moving again. Trying to, anyway, having to rock a bit to get into motion. Even then once he figures out what the hell he's doing he doesn't go far. Instead he moves just enough to lay his head in Steve's lap- maybe remembering that's what he said he wanted- and he does.
He curls up there, legs tucked up, nuzzling a little into Steve's thigh. And though there was a gap between that last statement and the one forthcoming, he talks like there hadn't been.]
You were before- long time ago- before dad got involved and over- ...over-... made everything worse.
[The word his smart brain is looking for is overcomplicated but it's a little too far out of his grasp right now.]
Small window where war stories were fun and I liked you before he ruined it I think there's pictures somewhere. Maybe Halloween don't tell anyone... very embarrassing.
[One very long string of words that are fast in some parts and slurred, slow and unfocused in others. Smiling through all of it, eyes closed.]
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He gently strokes his hand through Tony's hair, offering him comfort if he can, the other one brushing against his shoulders. He sits up because it's easier this way, leans over Tony protectively like he always is. ]
Don't worry Tony, your secret's safe with me, though I might ask FRIDAY for a corroboration.
[ Because little Tony being a fan of the man he was going to marry someday is - okay, kind of creepy when said like that - but cute, nonetheless, and feels a little bit like fate, almost. Because for Tony, there had never really been a time without Steve. Not just Captain America, the hero, but Steve, the person, the person who had been his father's friend, who had died a long time ago.
And he does like to think that, had he had the opportunity, he would have been Tony for every step of his life. ]
It's not that embarrassing to wear the stars and stripes. I do it all the time.
[ He knows that's not what he means, but he curls his fingers into Tony's hair and can't help but to tease a bit. It might make sense to him, now, why he likes to listen to Steve's stories so much. Maybe it, in a way, reminds him of a time his childhood was good. Maybe it makes Howard's old stories seem so much more real. ]
And just for the record, Tony, you're my hero.
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[They're not in the almighty cloud or a server somewhere, he means. They exist only in physical print. Because it's never been a priority to Tony, to digitize old memories that just make him feel sullen. They're sitting in boxes somewhere, one of the old estates. Gathering dust.
He's never been one to hang onto the past like that. Even if that's exactly what he's doing. Just that it's easier to ignore, when it's miles away at any given time, and definitely not obtainable by just asking his AIs to show him things from times long gone.
Now that Steve's sitting up, though, lap forming a bit more for Tony to curl into, he turns on his back, face up towards Steve, eyes closed and quite visibly enjoying those little touches through his hair. If Steve isn't careful he's liable to fall asleep right there eventually.
Though he breathes out a soft little noise of amusement that turns into an actual bubble of laughter that he can't help. Half-lidded alcohol-glazed eyes glance up Steve's way.]
Finally worth ten guys huh?
[It's a joke that probably makes zero sense and also makes less sense in the context it's being drawn from. But it makes sense to him and it's funny. That old I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. Their first (second? first-and-a-half?) fight. When they couldn't stand each other and nothing felt stable. They'd both gone verbally for each other's throats, and Steve had definitely crawled right under his skin. Funny, now, because that's still where he is. But it's comfortable and perfect now, and Tony would do anything to keep him there. A stark contrast to that small sliver of time before where he would have likewise done anything to shed himself of Steve and his knowing gaze and the way he cut him down to size.]
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He's almost certain that he's paying top dollar to store all those old memories somewhere where they're dry and in a cool, dark place but nowhere possibly that he'll have to deal with them.
Or they might be at the bottom of the Pacific now, thanks to Aldritch Killian. Steve is going to hedge his bets.
It strikes him deep in the heart when Tony asks, his eyes going wide, because of course he remembers. He'd regretted it the instant it came out of his mouth, and then about a thousand times holding his breath as Tony lay on the pavement, helmet ripped off, breath stilled. Tony didn't have to prove him wrong, but he did. Tony didn't have to nearly die, but he did.
Steve closes his eyes for a second, reflecting, but he knows Tony hates it when he gets upset. ]
More than that.
[ And okay, maybe that'd been what had made him think that Steve had been unfaithful - he'd technically maybe essentially said it was him and Buck against everybody else, and so maybe the sheer contrast in quantity of perceived worthiness is what got under Tony's skin, and as it sticks in Steve's heart and twists, he thinks he ought to rectify this. ]
Tony, I didn't have the right to judge you, and I still don't, not really. But to me, you're worth the whole entire world.
[ He doesn't want to ruin their position, so he brings two fingers to his lips, and then presses them against Tony's. ]
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But it's less that. He and Steve are far over that hump. He's so in love with the man he barely knows what to do with himself most of the time they're together. Can't imagine a life where they're not like this and less like that. The version of himself that he's joking about.
His arm flops back down towards the bed outstretched, and his brow arches, soft smile tugging at his lips when Steve presses there. He's moving again then, same arm that had just crash-landed back to the bed lifting, wobbly, so he can take Steve's hand and hold it against the side of his face instead.]
And everything about you is definitely more special than what came out of a bottle.
[That sounds right enough. Not that he's got enough of a filter to recalibrate sentences properly. But if they're in the middle of correcting their very earliest misgivings, he wants to play his part too.]
Also at this point- it's you- definitely. If anyone can judge me. So. You're wrong about that. You're always on the right side of everything. You're better. What you say goes.
[Lifting his hand yet again, as always unable to remain still even when inebriated, he gives one of those mock two fingered salutes and a sunnier smile. But this he means, too. Steve's the best out of all of them, not that he likes any of the Avengers less. But Steve's his north star, sometimes his moral compass, and, yes, generally always right. Much as Tony purports to be. And to Tony, he'll always be the better man of the two of them.]
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It's not an excuse for what Steve had said to Tony. And likewise, Tony's feelings of meeting Steve, a ghost for whom he'd competed with for his father's love, is also not an excuse for things he'd said, either. But he supposes like he understands and forgives Tony for having said them a long time ago, he has to accept that Tony does, too.
He cups Tony's cheek and gently plays with his beard. ]
Well if that's true, then stop telling me I'm biased whenever I say nice things about you.
[ Got him there. And he knows it'll take more than his words to get Tony to believe it. Tony has to want to believe that he's good, that he's just as good a man as Steve is. He can only do his part, but he can't bring Tony to that conclusion.
A small smile tugs on his lips when Tony gives him a salute. He might've thought it sarcastic once upon a time, but now with a ring on Tony's bent finger - a ring that Steve had helped to design and to forge himself, he knows the intent is only filled with love.
He peers down at Tony in his lap and then asks: ]
Are you cold?
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[Aiming a dopey smile his way, like he knows this to be the entire truth of things. In fact, so much so, that he reaches up to poke Steve in the chest for emphasis. Then with that very same uncoordinated hand he lifts further up to attempt to poke the tip of Steve's nose but he's clearly moving around far too much for that because he ends up nudging his cheek instead at first, and then slowly drags his finger towards his nose.
Steve is biased by love- especially considering how enduring and intense theirs is for each other. But. That's okay. Steve does also have a point that Tony has a point. Or however this is working out. He doesn't have enough brain power to continue to refute or try to do the math on this one.
Still lazing in his lap, looking up at him, Steve's smile seems to put Tony in an endless feedback loop with the one he's wearing. Though he does seem only slightly confused about the question until he thinks he gets why it's being asked.]
Why? You gonna warm me up?
[Really if he lies there for five minutes uninterrupted he'll probably fall asleep. But until that happens, like always, he's enamored with Steve and will keep talking to him or simply listening to him talk for as long as he can.]
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And, also, he won't admit it but sitting and listening to Tony bare some part of his soul that he didn't even want Steve to see is more intimate than the act of sex. Well. Okay, it's at least more intimate than the act of drunken sex, because it's still very hard to beat how Tony always makes Steve feel.
He gives a jovial roll of his eyes and gives Tony's nose a little pinch. ]
Yes, by putting you under the blankets and joining you.
[ And normally, he'd ask Tony to help him take his clothes off, but he's not sure it'd be a good idea to sit Tony back up again, so he starts unbuttoning his shirt, though if Tony wants to help, he can always get Steve's pants.
He assumes Tony's going to be no help, or worse than, but Steve loves him all the same.
And, of course, in a single quiet moment, his thought strays back to the thing his thoughts usually stray to now. ]
You know, the hardest thing about writing my vows is that for some reason I keep thinking there's gonna be a perfect thing to say to you, and I just haven't found it yet. I feel like the harder I look for it, the further away it gets from me.
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You could put something in me instead.
[And he thinks that's a great line. He also thinks Steve thinks that's a great line because wow there goes his shirt and Tony's hand lifts in a wobble, like the weight of his entire arm is too heavy, gravity turned up a bit, and plants his heavy hand against Steve's chest. The touch is less flirtatious and he might almost immediately forget, again, what his plans were. Even if he had any.
Because instead of feeling him up he kind of just holds steady there against Steve's heart. Enjoying that deep thrum underneath his fingertips. That heart is his, forever they're very agreed now, and he'd do anything to protect it. It catches him a little that Steve must be feeling sentimental too and he tries so hard to parse through everything being said and not say something stupid in return- because he does realize he's very drunk.]
You have a knack for always saying the right thing at the right time. And not just- not just your Cap speeches- though I think we agree you're great at rallying. But sometimes you'll just look at me and say something that makes me feel like-
[His eyes squint in concentration because he's really trying okay.]
-I couldn't be loved like anyone loves me- like you love me- there's a pre-you and a post-you and I'm settled. I couldn't go back.
[Nope. None of that made sense. Probably. But he tries one more thing.]
Don't worry about the vows so much. Whatever you end up saying will be the thing I was waiting to hear. That's how it always is with you.
[...was that better? He's at least smiling like it was.]
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[ There's no real action behind these words here, because they've happily moved onto being sweet instead.
He knows that whatever he says, that Tony will love it, because he always does. But he wants more than to just touch him, he wants to tell him something he'll never forget. That he'll take until his dying days, that he'll remind Steve of someday when they're old.
He wants it to stick with Tony as long as "you're not the guy to make the sacrifice play" has. He wants whatever he says to completely erase and supplant that.
It's a tall order. ]
I know. I just want it to be perfect. For you.
[ He takes off his tank top too, and works gently on his pants, trying not to shift Tony too much as he gets out of them, kicks them off all the way, pats the empty spot on the bed. ]
Let me lay down with you?
[ He thinks even if Tony starts anything up, he'll likely fall asleep partway through making out, but it's fine. It's cute. Steve loves this side of him, even though he'll be happy never to see it again, if it keeps Tony on the wagon.
And, regardless, he does shift them around so he can get them both in a lying position on the bed, what with Tony being much more difficult to move as a noodly drunk, but no match for Steve. He turns his head a bit, and rests it on Tony's shoulder. ]
You never talk to me about your childhood. I know you didn't like it, but there must've been some good times, right? Like Halloween?
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[He says this with all the drunken confidence he can muster but mostly he knows he's right. He's generally always right about most things
except a few huge things we don't need to talk about- but Steve, especially, he knows will say the exact perfect thing when they're standing up there. Not a doubt in his mind.Steve moving around gets a breathy noise that's mostly a whine that he thinks twice about a little too late because, hey, Steve's getting naked. And he's very all about that, hands a bit overly touchy right before Steve makes a request and since Tony can normally never say no to him he just nods. And doesn't really do much else to facilitate this request because moving seems really hard.
But thankfully he has Steve for that, who gets him upright and the both of them laid down where he then soaks up every physical inch of Steve's space and warmth possible.
Then Steve's asking him something when he was in the middle of drifting, not particularly off to sleep but just comfortably drunk drifting and he has to remember words. Worse yet he has to remember things.]
Jarvis made everything better.
[One of the sunnier spots in his childhood apparently, and one of the things he thinks to say for whatever reason.]
We did a few Halloweens. Maybe three or four. He and my mom would take me out- mom would leave when I wanted to stay out longer but he'd stay for me. They tried. I didn't make it easy.
[One wonders where talk like that comes from.]
I ripped my costume one time right before we were supposed to go out and I thought that meant they wouldn't take me so I made a big deal about it and he busted out a sewing kit right there and stitched it up.
[Thoughts colliding into each other, words in an endless freefall until he stops telling that story. Eyes closed, breathing out a long sigh, quietly he says after that small lapse,]
I miss Jarvis.
[And JARVIS. And his mom. And sure, his dad, too. Siberia wasn't that long ago. He doesn't wanna think about any of this.]
What about your Halloweens?
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Jarvis had been a wonderful man. Steve's all the worse off for never having had the opportunity to meet him, he's sure of it.
But he doesn't want to hurt Tony by talking more about him when he knows that he always takes the good things well like everyone else, yes, but the hard things so much harder. ]
Trick or treating wasn't really a thing in my childhood, wasn't until I was a teenager that it really caught on. I guess --
[ He means to say Buck and I, but what he just says is singular. ]
--I tried to go a couple Halloween parties, but they weren't really for me.
[ He gently brushes Tony's hair back, and dots kisses on his shoulder, also ready to drift off anytime they decide to finish this conversation. ]
We could try this year. I'll even let you pick the costumes if you remember this tomorrow.
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[There's a definite lull to his tone, though some of it is just a little dreamy. Like he actually is dreaming up this scenario- Steve, much smaller than he's used to, holding his hands together in some corner while rowdy teens are drinking and having a good time, and he's very much not.]
It's 'cuz I wasn't throwing them. You do better, when they're mine.
[Does this make sense? No. Does it need to? Also no. His idea simply being that Steve seems to always have a better time when Stark Parties are happening. But more than that, just that they both have a better time, when they're both together. Definitely doesn't make sense in this context but it makes him happy.
And he exhales, soft and slow, eyes closing and staying that way this time, snuggling in just a little more. Definitely enjoying those gentle touches that threaten to send him drifting so far down he'll be there for a while. Until the morning when he's far less amicable and sweet.]
You'll regret that. I think maybe. Fishnets. Or leather. Sexy cop's too obvious. Maybe I'll put you in one of those Iron Dancer costumes. You'd look great in that.
[The incredibly revealing ones with the booty shorts, the bras, the gloves. Yes. Steve would look great in those. Even the heels, he bets.]
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It was sweet, in a way. Tony always knew how to make everyone feel like they were having a good time. Even now, just drunk and lying in Steve's lap and talking about things that won't happen for a few months yet, it feels... nice. Relaxing. And that Steve wouldn't rather be anywhere else. ]
Only if you put on one of those old USO dancer uniforms. Bet your legs would look nice putting on those little silver heels.
[ He reaches down to give his thighs a little pat. And he's sure Tony's not serious, because Steve is probably not going to show up anywhere in hot shorts without making headlines, but he would maybe put on a modified and slightly less revealing outfit.
He'd put on the heels, if Tony wanted to see him with ridiculously defined quads and about seven foot tall with the platforms. ]
You know, the first helmet I ever wore with the costume on was one of the girls'. But I always preferred the hats.
[ He mimes putting a helmet on Tony, and then mimes lifting it, then kissing his forehead. ]
I think even if we don't end up with those costumes, you should get one anyway, and model it for me.
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[At least that's a thing, right? That he has contingencies? Probably for very real reasons. Otherwise, yes, he probably literally would have asked her to find and order the most authentic outfit possible with his measurements and it'd have been there in a couple days.
...which is why he has to have protocols.
His blinks are slow, eyes half-lidded and smile wide and sunny, even if a little still alcohol-dazed as he looks at Steve. Although his eyes similarly drift closed once again at that kiss to his forehead. He turns in a little more, occupying every crevice he can, leaving no free space between him and Steve as he magnetizes into his side and cuddles in.]
Done deal. Hat- hairpins- hairspray and all. Anything you want. All you have to do is say.
[And even though he's still incredibly intoxicated, this much is the truth. He'd do anything for Steve. Certainly fun bedroom escapades. But everything else, too. Which is why, as he rests a hand over Steve's heart, he feels like he needs to remember to say-]
I love you. Thanks.
[There's a small beat between that last word and his next thought, he might have dozed off. But he finishes the sentiment eventually.]
-for coming to my rescue.
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No, it's how unreasonable Tony could get when he wants to do something for Steve, when he wants to ensure Steve's happiness or his safety.
Someday, he thinks, that'll get them into a whole load of trouble. But today, he'll happily press more kisses to Tony's face, pepper them on his cheek and his nose and finally, his mouth. ]
I always will, sweetheart.
[ But then he furrows his brow. ]
Well, I love you. And I didn't even do anything. Just drove you home.
[ He takes Tony's hand and kisses the inside of his wrist, lays it gently on his cheek, cuddles into him so they can settle in for the night. Tony's not making a whole lot of sense right now but he often doesn't. And when he's drunk, he's at his most honest. It's not that he ever lies or really hides things from Steve, but he does want him to keep going because these are the most unfiltered, slightly inscrutable Tony thoughts he could possibly receive, and he treasures them. ]
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