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Tony heard rambunctious laughter as soon as he stepped out of the elevator, his lips twitching up in a smile. He’d had the kind of shitty day that deserved to be drowned in alcohol, so a pick-me-up was very much appreciated.
Tony rounded the corner, one hand raised in greeting. “Hey, gu–” He stopped dead in his tracks as a glass hit the door frame in front of him, shattering on impact. Tony cautiously leaned forward, poking his head into the kitchen.
“Another!” Thor yelled, leaned so far back in his seat that it was a wonder he hadn’t fallen off yet. Tony’s eyes automatically swerved to Steve who seemed to be laughing too hard to do anything about it, slumped over on the table with tears of mirth streaming down his face. Clint was balancing a bottle on his nose, and Natasha was stacking more and more bottle caps on top. Apparently the team had started without him.
Tony knocked on the door frame. “Did somebody order a genius?”
“Tony!” Steve shouted happily, throwing his arms out wide. Tony had about two seconds to be surprised before he got dragged right into Steve’s lap, manhandled like a rag doll. Tony stiffened, trying to act natural even as his mind chased itself in panicked circles. Oh god, Steve was piss drunk, wasn’t he? He’d never be okay with this kind of PDA otherwise.
The rest of the team didn’t even know they were together yet.
“Heeey,” Steve said, stretching the one word out to at least four syllables. “You smell good. I missed you.”
“Hey, Cap,” Tony said, his high-pitched voice drawing the attention of Natasha whose eyes instantly narrowed.
“What are you doing?”
“He’s so soft,” Steve sighed, squeezing Tony’s middle as he nuzzled his neck, which – okay, rude – but all Tony could focus on was fending off Natasha when she got out of her seat, wobbling a little. Christ, were all of them hammered?
“No, no, I'm okay, Nat, stand down!”
“He’s groping you,” she growled, and – dear god, was that a knife?!
“It’s fine! I promise it’s fine, please sit down.”
She stopped, her steely glare wandering from Steve to Tony. “Are you taking advantage of him?”
Oh shit. “No! No, he’s – I mean, we’re –”
“Oh.” Steve tensed at his back before he turned his chair, making Tony flail as he was tugged along for the ride until Steve had positioned himself between Tony and Natasha, glaring daggers at her. “You can’t have him. He’s mine.”
“What’s happening?” Clint slurred as he finally put down the bottle, a look of unholy glee crossing his face when he saw the knife in Natasha’s hand. “Are we sparring?”
“No! Absolutely not! No weapons!” Tony rushed out, surging to his feet. Steve sat with his arms still outstretched, looking like a kicked puppy.
“Why?” he asked miserably. “Don’t you want me?”
Great. Natasha was looking between them like she didn’t know who to threaten anymore, and Tony sighed, wiping his face with both hands.
“Okay, all of you, knock it off. Steve, we’re leaving.”
“Poppycock!” Thor yelled, slamming his fist down on the table. Tony winced at the spidering cracks that appeared in the wood. He’d just bought that table. “Drink with us, friend Tony! Partake in the revels!”
“I wasn’t aware we had revels,” Tony said, grabbing one of Steve’s hands to try and tug him off his chair, to no avail. “Fucking Christ, would you – where’s Bruce?”
Clint blinked. “Where is Bruce?”
“Lab,” Natasha said, and Clint made an ah sound so long it was practically an acceptance speech.
“J, tell Bruce to come up here? We need to wrangle these idiots into bed,” Tony said, and Steve’s eyes lit up as he jumped to his feet, almost knocking Tony off balance with the sudden motion.
“Bed?”
“To sleep,” Tony said firmly, and Steve pouted. Literally stuck out his lip, the fucking – okay, yes, it was adorable, Tony couldn’t lie. “You’re drunk, Steve.”
“You’re drunk,” Steve said mulishly, and Tony sighed.
“I wish I was.” Tony patted his arm before he turned to Clint, offering him both hands. “Okay. Up and at ‘em, Merida, we’re going to –”
Tony blinked when he was suddenly in the air, lifted by a firm grip around his waist. “What the –”
“He’s not coming to bed,” Steve said firmly, glaring at Clint as he carried Tony over to the door. At least he still seemed coordinated enough not to run them into a wall. Small mercies. “Just us.”
“Steve – come on, we need to – Bruce!” Tony called out when the man himself stepped out of the elevator, giving them a bewildered look. “Tell Steve we need to put the others to bed!”
“What?” Bruce asked, and Steve gripped Tony tighter, practically growling under his breath.
“You’re not coming either. Tony’s mine.”
Bruce’s eyebrows rose to his hairline as he looked at where Steve was holding on to Tony. “Uh. Is this a kidnapping, or –”
“Totally consensual, I promise,” Tony said, and Bruce nodded slowly.
“Right. Okay.” He gave Tony an amused smile. “I’m happy for you? I think?”
“I’m happier,” Steve said petulantly, now cuddling Tony like an oversized teddy bear, both arms wrapped around him. “Happiest.”
“It’s not a competition, big guy,” Tony said, barely holding in a laugh as he stroked Steve’s forearms. To Bruce he said, “The others are just as fucked up. Give me a second, I’ll –”
“No, it’s okay, I got it.” Bruce’s eyes twinkled with mirth as he turned away. “You’re busy. Have fun.”
“Thanks, Bruce,” Tony shouted as Steve carried him into the elevator where he buried his face in Tony’s hair, grumbling under his breath. Tony chuckled. “You know, you’re kind of cute when you’re drunk.”
“You’re cute,” Steve mumbled, and Tony laughed, patting Steve’s hands before he pressed a kiss to them.
“I sure am, Cap. Come on, let's go.”
Tony managed to get Steve to his floor by sheer force of will, somehow staying on track no matter how many times Steve tried to pin him against the wall and have his way with him. He knew that Steve would stop if he really told him to, but it would hurt Steve, make him think he was doing something wrong, and Tony wanted to avoid that. Thankfully, as soon as he had Steve deposited on the bed, it seemed like he was ready to conk out, with or without Tony.
“Here,” Tony said, pulling off Steve's shoes and jacket before he let him burrow under the covers, face smushed into the pillows. “You should drink something before you fall asleep.”
Steve grumbled something inaudible, and Tony smiled, reminded of his party days with Rhodey. Except he'd never leaned down and pressed a kiss to Rhodey's hair before he shuffled off and grabbed him a glass of water. At least as far as he remembered.
By the time he came back, Steve seemed to have shaken himself awake once more, his eyes darting around the room before they fell on Tony.
“I thought you left,” Steve said with such sadness that Tony took the last few steps at a jog, cupping Steve's cheek with one hand.
“I'm right here. Just trying to take care of you.” He pressed the glass into Steve's hands. “Drink this while I brush my teeth, okay?”
“Kay,” Steve said, readily gulping down the water. Tony watched him fondly for a second before he shook himself out of it and went into the bathroom for his nightly routine. He took care of business, brushed his teeth and pulled on a silk night robe without a peep from Steve. Tony thought he'd already fallen asleep until he was a few minutes into his skin care routine and heard Steve's voice from the bedroom.
“Hey. Hey, Tony.”
“Yes, Steve?”
“I can't see you.”
“I'm in the bathroom,” Tony said, and he could practically hear Steve's petulant frown.
“Come here then.”
“In a minute.” Tony rinsed off his face and startled applying moisturizer.
“Tony!”
“Good lord,” he mumbled as he walked over to the doorframe, looking at where Steve was lounging on the bed. “What?”
Steve held out his arms. “Come here.”
“I'm washing my face,” Tony said, and Steve pouted like an actual child.
“I have to tell you a secret.”
“Oooh, a secret.” Tony went back to the sink to wash his hands, wringing out the washcloth he'd used and hanging it up. “What kind of secret?”
“I can't tell you from over there.”
Tony rolled his eyes but obligingly walked out of the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe. “Well?”
Steve made grabby hands at him and Tony relented, joining him in bed. As soon as Tony's body hit the mattress, Steve was on him, his arms wrapped around Tony's waist and his mouth hot on Tony's cheek.
“What's your secret then?” Tony asked, and Steve leaned up so his lips were brushing Tony's ear.
“I think I'm drunk,” Steve whispered, his severe alcohol breath hitting Tony's nostrils. Tony sighed, patting his head.
“You sure are, buddy.”
“Do you still love me when I'm drunk?” Steve asked, and Tony sucked in a breath, leaning back to look at Steve. They hadn't used that word yet. It would probably be unfair to talk about this now when Tony didn't even know if Steve would remember it in the morning.
But Steve was looking at him with his big, blue eyes, and Tony couldn't keep the truth from spilling out.
“Of course I do,” he said, and Steve beamed at him – before he rolled away, turning his back on Tony. It kind of hurt, if Tony was being honest. “Hey, what's wrong? Are you mad at me?”
Steve looked over his shoulder, utterly bewildered. “What? Why?”
Tony gestured at the distance between them, and Steve grabbed his hand without a word, dragging it across his body as he laid back down, and – oh, okay, that made sense. Apparently Steve liked being the little spoon too, who knew?
“Good night, Tony. Love you,” Steve mumbled, and Tony didn't fight the sappy grin that stretched across his face as he settled in, pressing his lips against Steve's neck.
“Yeah. I love you too.”