"Tony needs what?" Steve asks, balancing his phone on his shoulder while cooking himself some breakfast for dinner.
Bruce laughs on the other end of the phone, almost humorlessly. "He tried to tell me his story about what's happened lately – I may have fallen asleep."
"Bruce!" Steve scolds in his Captain voice.
"You know I don't have the temperament to sit and listen all day to his crap," Bruce replies hastily. "I am not that kind of doctor. I think he might need that kind of doctor, to be honest – but he doesn't trust anyone outside the Avengers."
"What are you suggesting?" Steve asks as he pulls his pan of eggs off of the burner, plating his dinner.
Bruce takes a deep breath. "Could you just invite him over? You know more about the whole PTSD thing than the rest of us – he could use a friend right now."
"I only have a few days between missions, you know that," Steve replies quickly.
"I know you are on break, and if you give even the slightest of a shit about Stark you will use one of those days to have him over," Bruce says slower, paced out, before hanging up on Steve – knowing he's said all he could for Stark's case.
Steve sighs, going to sit and take a few bites of his food before deciding he doesn't feel angry. They weren't allowed to interfere with Stark's case after he invited a terrorist to his home address – S.H.I.E.L.D. took back their help for the case past his cocky move. Before that, though, they didn't know. Nobody knew, Stark only went to Bruce because he mistook the kind of doctor he was. Steve takes initiative, not sure if he really should be, dialing in Stark's number in his phone.
He doesn't know how he feels when a slurred voice answers the phone. "Yeeeelloow, t'is is Tony."
Steve takes a deep breath. "Tony, are you drunk?"
"Are you drunk?" Tony snaps back defensively.
"Where are you?" Steve asks, already heading for his jacket and throwing his plate in the fridge.
Tony huffs. "Why would you care, big guy?"
"What bar?" Steve asks through clenched teeth before relaxing, thinking, knowing that arguing won't get them anywhere good. "We could have a drink, if you tell me where you are."
There is a long pause. Tony debates it before giving in. "Two blocks to the left, you can't miss it."
"Why would you," Steve gives up thinking to ask. "I will be there in five minutes, maybe less."
Tony hangs up the phone. Steve just has to take a few breaths, remembering he shouldn't be chastising his friend. Scolding Tony won't get them anywhere. It will only make the genius drink more to piss him off. He does make it there in less than five minutes, immediately spotting Tony flirting with the pretty boy bartender. Steve takes the seat beside Tony, waiting for one of the pair to notice him. The bartender notices him first, a big smile on his face at the sight of Steve. "What will you be having, darling?"
Steve clears his throat. "Whatever he's having will be fine with me."
Tony looks over with a stupid grin. "How nice of you to join me – I thought you were only coming to go all Cap on me and drag me out by my hair."
"Think about it, Tony," Steve replies before taking a first sip of drink, making a funny face at the taste. Tony's been drinking hard liquor, and Steve isn't used to the taste. "Would you have really let me do that?"
Tony shrugs. "I don't know, honestly. And you don't have to drink that – I know you aren't one for drinking."
Steve takes another tentative sip, still not liking the taste but gulping it down. "I can't get intoxicated, although something that tastes a little better would be nice."
"Long Island for the Cap," Tony says to the bartender with a flirtatious smile before taking away Steve's current drink. "It's a little better, the best you can get to better without the fruity ones."
"Thanks," Steve says as he takes a sip of his new drink. "That's better."
"If I know anything, it's my booze," Tony says with a humorless laugh. Steve looks at Tony, trying to think of how best to ask. Tony beats him to it. "Bruce called you, I presume?"
"Yeah," Steve admits. "I have been busy – I was actually advised to leave you be on the case of the Mandarin."
"Why?" Tony asks. He's feeling a little pissed now that he's heard the words.
"There's not much we can do after you give terrorists your home address," Steve says with a raised eyebrow.
Tony scoffs. "What the hell would you do? One of my closest friends was put in the hospital by those fuckers, I mean, I was a bit on edge and those fricken reporters – I don't think you get it. It was more than that. Where the heck was everybody after New York?"
"I was busy, small cases," Steve says slowly, reaching out for Tony's hand. "You never called."
"Would you have come if I had?" Tony asks in an accusatory tone.
Steve gives a 'no shit' kind of look that makes Tony almost tumble off his chair. "We fought a war together – no man left behind, Tony. Even after the fighting is done, I would have come at a second's notice. If I can't say I understand anything else, I understand what it's like to suffer post-trauma."
"I still can't make sense of it," Tony admits, heaving through a nasty cough. "Everything happened so fast I never got a chance to process the first round – now everything's gone." Tony turns on his bar stool, looking at Steve cautiously, unsure what the soldier would say.
Steve looks down, looking for absence. Until he realizes there is no more glow. "Tony," Steve says slowly, moving his hand forward, looking to Tony's eyes for permission before grazing his fingers over the scar where the arc reactor used to be. "Are you – are you not coming back?"
Tony smiles weakly. "I am working on new tech for new suits, powering from a base instead of me as the base. It might be a while before I am ready, I hope you understand. I know Fury sure doesn't."
Steve feels appalled, that an agency that deals with so many things and so many agents that experience trauma would have such a lack of understanding. "Everyone will, I promise. You need to rest, though. It looks like you haven't slept since New York," Steve pauses. "You have slept since then, haven't you?"
"Under anesthetic for surgery," Tony admits as he nurses his drink between his calloused hands again.
"Have you ever slept over at someone else's place?" Steve asks tentatively, not hearing it.
Tony bites his lip, trying not to laugh, before answering Steve. "Are you propositioning me?"
"I think it could do you good, having someone to stay with," Steve replies slowly, knowing that Pepper left the genius a short time after the Mandarin attack, not willing to deal with something like that again. It's what happens to a lot of pairs in their line of work.
Tony smiles faintly, knowing in his heart that Steve doesn't hear the innuendo in it. Tony nods. "Yeah, let me just get some things from home."
"I will let you borrow some sweats, I live closer," Steve replies, standing from his stool, extending a hand out for Tony. Tony takes the assistance, still stumbling off of his stool into Steve's chest. He laughs it off, and Steve has to lean back a bit to get away from the strong alcohol smell on Tony's breath. "I wouldn't let you walk alone if my life depended on it."
Tony wraps his arm around Steve's torso, walking alongside the soldier, stumbling every couple steps over his own feet. "Thanks," Tony whispers.
"It's alright, I don't sleep anyhow," Steve says with a sheepish smile.
Tony huffs. "If I have to sleep, so do you."
"I want to make sure you fare okay first," Steve says under his breath before he pulls Tony into his apartment. "I know it's not your big ugly tower, and there isn't much tech, but it is home."
"I like it," Tony says slowly. "It's quaint."
"Here," Steve says, leading Tony to his dining room table, sitting Tony down. "I am going to get you something to eat."
"Food – I'm gonna be sick, don't offer me food," Tony groans, rubbing his face with his hands.
Steve laughs softly, throwing what would have been his dinner back into the microwave. "It'll feel better to throw up food – that's why I am making you eat my dinner."
'My' wasn't supposed to come out of Steve's mouth. Tony heard it immediately. "Did you leave your dinner to come get little old me?"
"I am going to," Steve pauses again, taking deep breaths.
Tony laughs. "You are really trying not to yell at me, it's cute."
Steve bites back choice words before laughing it off. "Cute is not a word I've gotten since pre-serum."
"I will make sure to use it more often, cutie-patootie," Tony says with a big smile.
Steve glares a bit at Tony as he brings the genius his plate. "You are overdoing it."
"Cutie pie – ooh, what about that? You could be Cutie Pie Cap!" Tony announces, earning himself a smack on the back of the head.
"Just eat the damn food," Steve replies in a frustrated tone. Tony makes a face at the food. "Do you need me to spoon feed you?"
It is Tony's turn to throw a bitch face before he takes his first few forkfuls, glaring at Steve. "I am perfectly capable of taking a few bites," Tony mumbles in between bites, before feeling the nausea rise. Tony gets up quickly, running for the bathroom. He finds it just in time, and Steve can hear the poor genius retching.
After a few minutes, the soldier gets concerned and follows Tony's steps, kneeling behind him, pulling Tony's hair away from his face. He uses his other hand to rub circles on Tony's back. Tony wants to say thanks, but he can't stop retching. He immediately regrets that fifteenth drink. When he's finished, he pulls back and lies in Steve's lap. The soldier takes a cloth and helps clean up Tony's face. "There isn't enough 'thanks' and 'you shouldn't have to' I can say to you right now, Cap," Tony says in a raspy whisper.
Steve shakes his head. "Don't worry about it. I don't mind, that much."
When he's all cleaned up, he curls up more into Steve as the soldier throws the cloth up into the sink. "I think I could sleep now, or try."
"You are still going to need more sleep after you've finished blacking out," Steve says as he wraps his arms around Tony's torso.
Tony lays his head on the nape of Steve's neck. "We'll see what I can handle," Tony whispers as he starts blacking out, slowly feeling the world around him swirl into black.
Steve sighs, not moving other than scooting so his back is against the wall, taking deep breaths and trying to relax. He doesn't want to wake Tony, so he stays sitting there, resting his head against Tony's hair and surprising himself by drifting to sleep as well.
oOo
Tony wakes up first – luckily the perk to blacking out from alcohol exposure is dreamless. His eyes open slowly, noting the weight on top of his head with a soft chuckle. "Good morning to you too," Tony whispers, careful not to move his head too quickly, replacing the support of his head with his hand.
Steve notices slowly, waking up as the replacement happens, catching Tony's eyes as a hand is put under his chin. He doesn't mean to take it wrong, but it just looks – Steve reaches forward and places a gentle kiss on Tony's lips. He pulls back to a wide-eyed Stark. "Good morning, you weigh a ton," Steve says with a nervous laugh.
"You," Tony begins with a huff. "How long have you wanted to do that?"
"I didn't know I did," Steve admits, getting up quickly and knocking a disgruntled Tony to the tile floor. He wants to help him up, but he can't look at Tony right now – he feels like a jerk.
Tony picks himself back up just in time to follow Steve to the door. "I'm going to get some coffee. There's a spare toothbrush and deodorant in the cupboard, my clothes are in the closet."
"Steve," Tony mutters pathetically, not knowing what else to say.
Steve just shrugs on his coat. "Coffee is good for hangovers – I will be back."
Tony watches the door slam in front of him, just blinking. Not thinking yet, just going through the motions getting ready for the day. He has to roll up the clothes a lot to fit him, and he thinks he looks quite ridiculous. He plops himself on the couch, grateful that Steve's got a television. He throws on the first channel he sees. The news says it's the New Year, and Tony hadn't even factored in that last night was New Year's Eve.
He curls up on the couch cushions, watching some morning retro cartoons, waiting for Steve to return. It's three episodes later, and Tony knows that Steve went out for a walk. Steve finally walks back inside, carrying some semi-warm coffee and bagels. He spots Tony on the couch and laughs, taking a seat at Tony's feet and handing him a cup. "It's not perfectly hot," Steve admits.
"I figured, you've been gone a while," Tony mumbles, sitting up and taking a tentative sip.
Steve looks at Tony carefully. "I'm sorry – I read that wrong. You were obviously just trying to crawl away. I was smushing you in."
"After I crawled drunk into your lap and curled up? I think it was more me than you with the smooshing," Tony drawls.
"Still," Steve says, not thinking of other words.
"Shut up," Tony replies before Steve can make up with more to say.
Steve looks at Tony, an incredulous look on his face. "Excuse me?"
"You are freaking gorgeous, let's start with that," Tony begins with, tentative. "Everyone knows I swing both ways, and you are so out of my league it's insane. I was just caught by surprise."
Steve chokes a bit on his coffee. "I am not out of your league, we're in the same league."
"Thanks for clearing that up this morning," Tony says jokingly.
Steve bites his lip. "Yeah, about that…"
"If it was a one-off thing, I mean, I get it," Tony replies, sighing. "Only get one chance with a hunky monkey like you and I blew it, sorry cutie pie. I had no idea you were going to plant one on me or I would've tried harder to convince you."
"Convince me?" Steve asks with a laugh.
"Stop with the teasing," Tony whines. "I am just waking up and very hungover, and I hadn't brushed my teeth, and – that wasn't a fair run at it. I am a better kisser than that."
"You do look ridiculous," Steve comments as he takes in Tony's look, in a rolled up pair of his pants and a huge button-up shirt not even done up right.
"You are a giant," Tony says with a laugh. "It's not my fault none of your clothes are my size."
Steve puts down his coffee on the side table beside him. "What if I was to kiss you again?"
Tony gulps, suddenly nervous. This is quite a bit of pressure. "I would give it a shot."
Steve reaches forward and takes Tony's coffee, placing it beside his on the table. "One more shot couldn't hurt?"
"Now you are just teasing," Tony says with a small grin.
Steve leans over, his breath ghosting over Tony's, surprising himself by straddling the idiot genius's lap. "Problem?"
"No, God, none," Tony whispers breathlessly.
Author's Note: So it's cute but it may end here or something might come next but we'll see. Hope you liked it either way!