Author's Note: It definitely took me a while to get through this one for some reason. Probably because I kept thinking of LDTA. Anyway, I'm really into this after all. I just love Stony. So good. Much thanks to starrnobella for beta reading! Much love, xxDustNight

Disclaimer: All non-original characters, plot points, quotes, and information belongs to Marvel and Marvel Studios, and anyone else that may own any part of it. The story plot and dialogue belongs to me. I do not write for profit.

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Get Through Tonight
Rated: T
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Summary: After a particularly trying day, Tony and Steve fall into their old habits. Steve finally makes a revelation that just might save them both.
Prompt: 31 Days of Fanfiction: Day #13 Hurt/Comfort
Song Recommendation: "Can We Hang On?" by Cold War Kids

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Get Through Tonight

Tony walked the short distance from the bathroom and into his bedroom. Wearing nothing but a pair of well-worn jeans, he toweled his hair dry as he went. Everything was sore after his return from New York, from his the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He probably should have sought proper medical attention, but he preferred to feel the pain. It reminded him that he was still alive and that he had purpose.

Tossing the towel aside, Tony grabbed the black t-shirt from his bed and pulled it on over his head. He didn't bother with socks or shoes, having no plans whatsoever of leaving the compound. He was in to stay tonight, not wanting to deal with anyone or any situations. Standing in the middle the bedroom, Tony ran both hands through his damp hair as he tried to figure out what to do next.

He could head to the lab, losing himself in his creations for hours on end. Dinner and then a good night's sleep was another option, as well. God only knew the last time he'd had a decent night of rest. Exhaling in a rush, Tony decided he might as well try and relax one way or another. He was too strung up right now, so much so that sleep would never really happen.

As of an hour ago, Nat was still in a coma and Bucky was once again secured in the deep freeze. Having to come together with Cap and the Winter Soldier had been hard to deal with, but he'd managed somehow. The three of them, along with Nat and Clint, had managed to bring down the newest Hydra operative, but at what cost? Nat was out cold, and technically, so was Bucky. Steve was hiding out in his own room and here he was staring blankly at the wall with no idea what to do with himself.

Rolling his eyes at his own ridiculousness, Tony left the confines of his room and headed for the kitchen. Immediately, he went to the cupboard and removed a glass tumbler, bypassing his usual coffee mug entirely. He needed something stronger than caffeine tonight, that much was certain. Whiskey. He needed whiskey, and lots of it. Grabbing a fresh bottle from the alcohol cabinet, he settled himself at the bar and uncapped the bottle.

Before long, Tony was well past the tipsy category and moving into what could be considered drunk. He didn't care, though, pouring yet another glass of his favorite vice. What did it matter if he got drunk off his ass? There was nothing he could do to bring Nat out of her coma or ease Cap's guilt at Bucky having to remain iced up until he was needed again. Chuckling darkly at the audacity of it all, he was just about to down his drink when he heard it. A steady thump, thump, thumping coming from the gym.

Glancing over his shoulder in the direction of the sound, Tony tried to figure out who might be awake this late. Besides him, that is. Swinging himself around on the barstool, he tried to figure out if he should go and investigate. Scoffing, Tony threw back his drink and then hopped from the stool, staggering slightly in his drunkenness. Deciding he may need another refresher, he left behind his glass, instead grabbing the bottle and walking toward the gym.

Upon reaching the doorway, he smirked. Of course it would be him. Why wouldn't Steve Rogers be wide awake at three in the morning, punching the ever loving shit outta a training dummy? Leaning against the door jam, Tony took a swig of the amber liquid and continued to watch his friend work out his pent up aggressions. The whiskey burned going down his throat, but it was nothing compared to the burning he was feeling in his heart at the anguished look on Cap's face.

After a particularly violent right hook, the dummy's head flew off and Cap finally stepped away from it. His breathing was ragged and his knuckles were a bruised mess. Exhaling harshly, he turned around only to falter at seeing Tony in the doorway. Gesturing toward the exhausted veteran with his liquor bottle, Tony tried to give him what appeared to be a nod of approval.

"Looks like I'm not the only one self-medicating tonight," he pointed out before taking another drink. "To each his own, but don't you think we kicked enough ass today?"

"I'm not in the mood, Tony" Steve muttered, his face clouding as he began to head for the door. "Leave it."

"Come on, Cap," he continued, jostling slightly as Steve brushed past him headed in the direction he'd just come from. He was somewhat used to moody Cap these days, his best friend's absence taking its toll on him. "Isn't that what all the shrinks say to do?"

"What?" Steve asked, turning away from the refrigerator where he was just grabbing a bottle of water. "You're making no sense. Maybe you've had too much to drink."

Lifting the bottle, Tony observed that it was now well past half empty. "Hmm, I do believe this was full when I began." Shrugging, he took another drink and then settled himself back at the bar. "I'm at the point of no return, it would seem. Talk it out… That's what all my shrinks always say. If you talk about it, you might feel better."

Steve leveled him with an intense stare as he spoke, downing his water in one, long pull. When he was finished, and Tony had run out of things to say for the moment, he tossed it into the garbage bin and took to leaning against the counter. Crossing his arms, he sighed, knowing that Tony was right, even if he was drunk as a skunk.

"I don't want to talk about what happened today. Nat's in a coma and Bucky is back to hating himself. It was a royal mess and I just want to forget it ever happened." His blue eyes closed, flashes of the fight haunting him and making his heart ache. "I wanted to fully exhaust myself so I can pass out and not worry about nightmares or dreams in general."

"Look at us," Tony said, gesturing between the two of them. "You punching yourself silly and me a drunken mess. What a pair we are. Both dying for our next fix. Trying to find one more way to hurt ourselves so we can't be hurt by someone else." He chuckled, his dark eyes meeting Steve's as he drank from the bottle.

"If I can just get through tonight, I know tomorrow will be better. That's how I have to look at it, Tony. I can't survive if I don't have that optimism, and I can't keep that if I can't turn my mind off. The training helps." Sighing, Steve pushed away from the counter and snatched the bottle of whiskey from Tony before he could finish it off. "What about you, though? Drinking isn't a healthy way to cope."

"And having permanently bruised knuckles is?" Tony snapped, reaching for the bottle even though he knew it was out of reach. "I'm functional enough. I joke. I laugh. I make it through each day… If I could make it through tonight without that whiskey, you know I would."

"Then just stop, Tony," Steve pleaded, setting the bottle aside on the counter behind him. He moved around the bar and placed hand comfortingly on Tony's shoulder. "We've been here before, you and I. This same scenario playing out too many times now."

"What do you mean?" Tony slurred, ignoring the way he enjoyed Steve's touch. He wanted so badly for the horror of the day to be gone, but he needed to finish off the bottle. If he didn't, he'd never black out the way he needed to… The way Steve was able to after a good round in the gym.

"Every time we have a failed mission, you go to the bottle and I go to the gym. And every time, you seek me out afterward." He stopped, smiling a bit as he shook his head. "I can't believe I didn't see it before."

"Stop talking in riddles, Rogers, and tell me what you're going on about." Tony was starting to feel frustrated, and he didn't want that to end in a fight. There'd been enough of that for one day.

"You and me…" Steve let go of Tony's shoulder so he could take his face in both hands. "It's all so clear now. We do this to ourselves because we feel alone, but we don't have to be. That's why you always come find me. You're looking for someone to talk to, to understand what you're going through."

"Uh, no…" Tony countered, frowning. He didn't try to get out of Steve's embrace though. "I just can't stand the sound of you punching the shit out of that dummy… Drives me nuts." When Steve merely continued to smile at him, he swallowed thickly. Not quite trusting himself right now. Damn Steve and his comforting touch, his brilliant blue eyes, and totally kissable lips.

Whoa! Where did that come from? Must be the alcohol, right? But somehow he knew that wasn't true. He knew, deep down, that he really did seek out Steve because he was a comfort to him. He grounded him in times like this and that's what he wanted, no needed, most of all. Wanting to deny everything, if only to keep things from getting too complicated, Tony started to try and explain himself.

"Look, Steve; I don't know what you're thinking, but it's obviously-"

"Shut up, Tony," Steve scolded through a grin before he closed the distance between them and captured Tony's lips in a kiss for the ages.

It was completely unexpected, and their teeth clacked together for a moment before Tony relaxed. He shuddered at the feel of Steve's lips moving over his so gently, but with enough force to remind him that this was, in fact, really happening. His hands found purchase on the taller man's muscular back, holding him close as he licked his way into his eager mouth. Moaning as Steve's tongue began to massage his own, Tony pulled Steve so that he was now standing between his legs.

This felt right, more right than the whiskey. If only he'd known sooner what kissing Cap could do for one's mood. Steve was normally all hard lines and stern pout, but right now he was so much more than that. He was gentle, but firm. Relaxed, but willing. And above all else, clearly infatuated with Tony. It was with an embarrassing whimper that Tony reluctantly allowed Steve to finally pull back to look him in the face.

"How are you feeling now?"

"Surprised doesn't even begin to cover it," he muttered, shaking his head. "But better, a little bit at least." He searched Cap's eyes for any sign that he was regretting what they'd done, but found nothing but contentment instead. "What now?"

"Come on," he mumbled against Tony's pliant lips. "Let's go to bed so I can show you how we'll make it through tonight without losing our minds."

Instead of answering aloud, Tony allowed Steve to kiss him again before taking his hand and leading him through to the bedroom. Maybe he was right. Maybe there were better ways to find solace from his pain than through endless drinking and training. He had no doubt Steve would show him the way, their torment soothed by how they felt about one another. They'd do whatever they needed to survive. Together.