See? I told you I would have this up! I still had a few things to add to this chapter, so I added them this morning. Lol!

There's one more chapter after this and then that's it! It's kind of funny how this one shot ended up turning into a five chapter story. Lol! And, again, if it wasn't for you all, this never would have happened! To which you have my eternal thanks!

I'm hoping that you all consider sticking around for the last chapter - it's long overdue. xD This chapter has some tension and the next will have you all on the floor. I won't state with what emotion.

Ha!

Enjoy it, everyone!

Disclaimer: I own the plot...though I wouldn't mind owning Tony Stark. Out of all MARVEL characters, he's always been my faovurite and I don't know why.

4: Intoxication

~Six Months Later~

An awkward grunt resounded around Stark's lab.

His grip faltered on the metal support rod he had been using for the last month after his hip healed enough for him to walk – or try, at least. He had already been told to take it easy and not push the healing process, to which he paid no heed; why would he? He was perfectly capable of knowing if he was healed enough to put pressure and walk on it; granted, though he would not admit it, he more than likely would have more mobility had he have taken the extra month of rest. Lounging around and being confined to a wheelchair or crutches was not something he had been fond of, however. After giving up trying to convince him otherwise, Pepper had left on a business trip, which managed to get extended when new information was discovered about some CEO.

The exact details were sketchy at best.

He gripped the bar and pulled himself partially up, releasing an annoyed breath as his arms and chin hung over the rod.

"Shall I call for assistance, sir?" JARVIS' speech came out with.

"No! No." He grunted as he tried to make it to a stand. "It's fine, JARVIS." He managed to push himself up, gripping the bar tightly as he took pressure off of his hip. Once he managed to stabilize himself, he grabbed the bottom of his shirt to lift it and see the healing damage. No longer using any type of splint, the area was a light purple and brown; it did not look the least bit pleasing. Unlike when it first started to heal and it was an array of colors. He half-expected to be smacked when he made the running joke that he was a human kaleidoscope.

Sighing, he dropped his shirt and gripped the bar with both hands, hanging his head.

The feeling of languor was not a welcome one.

Of course, Steve had been more than empathetic the past few months, most likely due to the reasoning he still felt responsible, despite being told otherwise. Any time it was even hinted that Tony was in over his head – physically, that is – and the Captain was in close proximity, he would aid in any way he could. Though, more than once, Tony had become annoyed with him and the attention he had been given.

It was not like he was crippled.

The good part had been that his arm had healed in the first two months. He still experienced bouts of pain, but it was easily ignorable. Plus, it made working on projects much easier with access to both arms. He had been aggravated using only one arm and things taking more than twice as long to be completed; even with Banner's help on occasion.

A long breath escaped his throat as he moved back towards the desk, making sure to keep his grip firm on the bar, which he had run through the entire lab, with a little assistance, of course (once again from Dr. Banner). It gave him more functionality and allowed him to continue working alone without having others constantly fret over his well-being.

He was not fond of feeling as though he was burdening others, so when he and Bruce managed to get the almost-air-like bar running completely around the lab, he kept himself holed up, with even less contact than usual.

Ringing beeps filled the room, signaling a call.

"Sir, a call from Steve Rogers."

Tony's annoyance was visible at the computer's words. "I'm not in; in fact, I've taken a trip. To Hawaii. Won't be back for three months." He paused, listening to the sounds around him. "Think it's believable?"

"I highly doubt that, sir."

Tony shrugged and grabbed his glass, which was half-full with bourbon, and took a small sip. "Maybe a trip to the Great Barrier Reef, then."

"Yeah, because that's even more believable." Tony glanced to the entrance to see Steve standing in the doorway. As he walked into the lab, he glanced at the glass doorframe and set his hand on it. "Perhaps what you should consider is a better security system."

Tony shrugged and set his glass down. "JARVIS, I'm sensing a threatening presence. Could you explain to me why there is a super soldier in my doorway?"

"Apologies, sir, but Mr. Rogers did state that he would be arriving today when you last spoke."

Tony frowned as Steve sent him a smug look. "Fine. I guess I'll have to take care of the intruder myself." Steve rolled his eyes as he moved towards the other; the bar separated when it sensed his presence, only to connect back once he was through it. Tony picked up his glass again to take another swish, but just as he got it to his mouth, it was taken away from him. He dropped his arm to give Steve a half-lid stare. "Now why would you do that? You can't even get drunk, so isn't drinking kind of pointless for you?"

The older male brought the drink up to smell it, then brought it back down. "Stark, how much have you had?"

He shrugged. "Enough to know that you are very good-looking." His typical over-confident smirk found its way to his face as the other's lips tugged into a frown. "What'd I say?"

Steve rolled his eyes and set the glass on the desk. His eyes traced the screen layout in front of him. "So what are you working on?"

Keeping his hand on the desk for support as he turned back to his current project, he shrugged and swiped his hand across the screen, scattering virtual folders. "Still working on the glitch." Sensing the other's inquisitive stare, he went on with, "When that thing short-circuited my suit. Chances of it happening again: slim to none, but it'll bug me until I figure it out." The Captain nodded, eyes scanning over things he did not even understand. Tony shrugged and swiped his hand on the screen again, getting the files to fall back into their folders as they organized themselves into a vertical line. He turned back to face the blond and leaned his back on the desk. "So to what do I owe this surprise visit that I apparently knew about?"

Forgoing the obvious disbelief at the wording, Steve shook his head. "No one's heard from you in a few days and I came to make sure you didn't die."

"Well, you'd only be half right. Death is so…boring. Dull, like sleeping." When he reached for his glass again, Steve picked it back up, keeping it from him and making the younger male stare at him with annoyance. "I was assuming that you had forgotten about our last date," he said, tracing his gaze to his drink.

To which Steve scoffed, most likely at the wording and the actions the last time they were together.

"Hard to forget something like that, especially when you made yourself quite apparent." Another shrug from the genius. "Or did that not happen, either?"

Tony tapped his fingers on the desk, recalling the prior week. "Well, if String Theory holds any truth, there is a possibility that it wasn't me, but another reality." A smile befell his face at the reaction he received. "In my defense, I wasn't exactly sober."

Steve laughed. "Trust me. My shoes and my jacket remember that quite well. So much for being able to hold your liquor."

A shake of the head. "I'll have you know, Captain Rogers, that I"—he managed to snatch his glass back—"can hold my own very well." He took a sip – well, more than a sip. "After all, you'd never guess this is my fifth glass." His ally frowned, not believing him. "Okay, so maybe it's more like my seventh; don't look at me like that."

"I figured as much." Instead of setting the glass back on the table, he shoved it to Steve's chest, who grabbed it just as Tony let go. "You've been swaying the entire time I've been here."

Tony suddenly stopped and stood straight. "I have not." He felt the ground move beneath him.

With a light smile on his face, Steve shook his head and set his hand on Tony's forearm. "Right. Why don't we go upstairs?" As he began lightly pulling Stark along, the other somewhat gawked at him.

"Awe, come on, Uncle Steve." Steve released a breathy laugh and turned his head to look at him. "Fine," he seemed disappointed. Gripping the bar, he had the older gent walk in front of him, one reason being he still did not like others seeing him in a vulnerable state. The bar only lead to the door to the lab, which shut and locked once they were out, but it was only a few steps to the stairs, which did have a rail. Hence why he would have much rather have stayed in the lab. Going up and down stairs was not exactly an enjoyable experience.

Not that the amount of alcohol helped any.

He did not notice it when he was focused in the lab, but now he realized how much the things in front of him were moving. He was on the fifth stair when he grabbed the bar and fell into a crouch, setting his head against his arm.

"I'll just meet you at the top."

That did nothing to get the other to understand he only needed a moment's rest. Just enough to get everything to stop moving. "Come on." He opened his eyes to see the other holding his hand out, but when he denied it, Steve gave an aggravated sigh. "Stark." With his voice firm, Tony groaned and complied and was hoisted to his feet. As he slid his arm around Stark's waist, he could not help but comment, "And I swear, if you throw up on me again—"

"We wouldn't have to worry about that if you'd let me do this by myself, now would we?" He groaned when Steve "accidentally" made his foot slam into the next step.

"Oops."

He grinned when Tony mocked him and they started to go back up the stairs.

Upon reaching the top, Tony pushed away from the Captain and hobbled down the hall to the living room, using the wall for support. When he got to the couch, he had to position himself properly before sitting down, otherwise it would cause his side to twist in an unmentionable way, which would cause more pain than he would have liked.

"Want me to get you anything?"

Tony looked up at the question. "A drink would be nice." And that was met with a frown. "A new hip bone would be even better." Even he picked up on the sudden shift in Steve's posture, making him switch subjects. "Come, sit. Talk with me, Cap."

He shifted to sit against the arm of the couch. Shaking his head, the other did as requested. Once he sat down, he turned his head to look at Stark, whose eyes were blatantly swimming. Going up the stairs had him feeling the full effect of how much alcohol he had in his stomach with a lack of food, an all too common feeling. That reason could be the reason he was finding his eyes constantly dragging over the man sitting next to him, as well. Memories of last week came back, the way he had grabbed Steve around the neck when the older man went to help him up, being too intoxicated to even try standing, and caught him by surprise as he clashed their mouths together. It only lasted for a moment, mainly because the nausea decided to hit him at that moment; he had managed to pull away, but was unable to push Steve back and ended up vomiting on the front of the Captain's jacket.

He did not remember anything after that, other than laughing as he said he was sorry.

Next thing he recalled, he had woken up in his bed, dressed in clean clothes.

A fleeting thought was that the blond had purposely knocked him out.

He would not put it passed him.

"You okay?" Steve's voice cut through his train of thought. He blinked and met his eyes. "You got quiet and you're never quiet."

Tony shrugged. Adjusting himself to sit with his back against the back cushions of the couch, he sighed and set his head on Steve's shoulder. "See, I was fine downstairs. Walking up those stairs is what did this. I blame you."

Steve chuckled. "Yeah. I'm sure you do." When he groaned, Steve followed up with, "Please warn me if you're going to puke, again."

Again, Tony mocked him. "Oh, bite me, Starship." He sat back up, staring blankly in front of him. He tried to get his thoughts in order, but a hundred and one different things were going through his head and some were taking reigns more than others; which was probably why he ended up saying the top thing on his mind: "Rogers."

"Hm?"

"Kiss me."

Steve's eyebrows pressed together. "What?"

Tony inhaled and turned his head to face him, allowing his head to fall back on the cushion. "I know you heard me. I said kiss me."

The other bit down on his jaw. "Tony…."

"Oh, come on," he practically whined; a similar tone he had a tendency to use when he was concerned he was not about to get his way. "I'm not asking you to shove your tongue down my throat, just a simple—"

He was cut off by Steve leaning over him and lightly catching his lips. Tony accepted it immediately fully shutting his eyes as he felt the other's soft mouth pressed against his own. When he felt Steve's hand press against the side of his face, he felt his heart rate increase, which did give rise to a feeling of nausea. He ignored it and placed his hand on Steve's forearm as he lifted his head off the cushion. Turning towards him without losing the connection, he ran his hand up the Captain's shoulder to his neck, having Steve be the one with his back pressed against the back of the couch. When he set his free hand on Steve's chest, the blond grabbed his upper arms.

"Hey," he muttered through the kiss that was somehow turning into the same thing Stark said it would not. "Mm, Tony," he groaned against Tony's mouth, gripping his arms tighter. "Tony, you're drunk."

"And you're attractive. Any other obvious statements you'd like to make, Cap?"

Steve pulled him back, somewhat rolling his neck before meeting the other's half-lidded eyes. "We can't do this when you're intoxicated."

At the wording, Tony's interest peaked. "And if I was sober?" The blond sighed. Tony moved his arm from the other's grip and set his forehead on Steve's chest. "I think"—he twisted his fingers into the fabric of the other man's black shirt—"we should sleep together."

Another sigh from the Captain.

"Tony…."

"I mean, you're attractive and it's obvious I am—"

"Tony."

"It would be fun – are you a virgin, still?"

"Tony."

A little more annoyance.

"I don't care." Tony stopped and took in a deep inhale, adjusting his head to press his cheek against Steve's chest. Dropping his chest and shoulders, Steve hesitantly brought his up arms and put them around Tony, trying to get the younger man to relax. Shutting his eyes, Tony loosened up, allowing his body to ease as the barbiturate effect of the alcohol started to take over. He pressed up against the other's chest, then relaxed again. "Stay tonight, then." His voice started to sound distant as his coherency drained. "If you won't sleep with me – and you'd be the first not to want to – does that sound bad?"

In response, Steve just rubbed his back and set his chin on the top of Stark's head. "A little." He smiled when he felt Stark lightly chuckle. "All right. I'll stay." Tony's shoulders dropped. "But no more drinking, Stark."

A throated grunt was all he received in reply.

He tightened his grip on the dark-haired male, continuing to rub his back.

We're leading up to an epic finale, here, folks! This is so much fun to work on, now that I'm getting back into my comfort zone. =^-^=

Please come back, you guys!