"You don't have to go," James whispers, followed by a soft gasp as Tony sucks lightly at the sensitive spot below James' ear, his fingers reaching up to tangle in his hair.

"Yes I do," Tony pants softly, giving his lover a nudge followed by a line of kisses down his neck. He finally sits up and slides down James' thighs, palms pressed flat against his belly. "God, c'mon. We've talked about this. We're supposed to be having fun. Arguing about me leaving isn't fun."

"Having you to myself is fun," James mumbles. "We can just stay here forever and maybe Steve would get the hint."

"Why are you suddenly against him?"

"I'm not against him."

Tony doesn't resist the urge to roll his eyes as he falls to the side of his lover, sprawling out on the bed beside him. "I should just leave."

"No, I'm—I'm sorry," James sighs as he rolls onto his side. He makes it a point to slide a knee between Tony's thighs. "I'm sorry. Come on."

"Oh fuck, right there," James groans, his fingers clenching Tony's shoulders tightly. His heels dig into the dip of Tony's back and neither of them are expecting Tony's phone to ring. The first time it rings, they both ignore it, but a second call comes in immediately after the first stops.

"You're not answering that," James says, reaching for Tony's outstretched arm.

Tony manages to grab the phone anyway and glances at the screen. "Shit."

"Who is it?"

"It's Steve, I have to—"

"No, you don't! Give me the phone," James insists with a groan. "Call him back when we're done."

Tony gives James an apologetic look before answering the phone. He should really think it through, though, because James pushes Tony away from him so hard that Tony falls off the side of the bed.

"Hello?" Tony finally answers, climbing to his feet.

"Have you been drinking?" Steve asks curiously, noticing that Tony doesn't exactly sound like himself.

"No, I just—well, yeah. I may have stayed up all night," he lies with a shrug.

"I was just making sure you're still scheduled to come back today."

"It's my jet; I'm scheduled to come back whenever I want to."

"Right," Steve replies quietly. "I just thought I'd have something cooked when you got here. Well, just let me know what your plans are. Send me a text or something."

"I will. Bye, Steve." Tony tosses his phone onto the unmade bed and scrubs his hands over his face. He figures he should go after James and he does, finding him at the bar clutching a tumbler of whiskey.

"Oh, shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear it."

Tony blinks furiously. "I didn't say anything."

"You answered your phone when we were fucking!"

"Christ, it's not that big of a deal!"

"You were still inside of me! It's a big fuckin' deal, Tony."

Tony doesn't want to, but he feels like they should probably discuss what the problem is. "Why are you so pissed?"

"I just told you. The past week you've only been talking about how much you need to get out of your marriage. And then Steve calls while we're fucking and you answer it!"

"Yes, I know. I was there." Tony replies with just a peppering of snark.

"Unbelievable," James mutters, taking a sip of his whiskey.

"Anything else wrong?"

"I don't want you to leave. I want you go to get your shit squared away, but I don't want to be alone again."

Tony steps forward one more time, gently pulling the glass from James' grasp. "What's a few more months, right?"

"You think it'll be that quick? I mean, what's gonna happen? Is Steve even gonna want to go through with it?"

"If he does agree, the worst that'll happen is he'll get half of everything. And I'll get you."

James showcases a hint of a frown as he nods, clearing his throat. "Maybe we shouldn't finish."

"Probably not." The corner of Tony's mouth pulls up just a little. "C'mon. I'll fly you home."

"Come here," Tony whispers, pulling James closer to kiss him thoroughly on the mouth before they leave the jet.

James hums softly as he returns the kiss, breaking it only to reach for his duffle bag. "I love you."

"I know." Tony grabs his hips and kisses him again, this time a little more desperately, but James pulls away before the kiss can progress.

When the elevator opens on the proper floor, Tony notices that there's a very distinct smell wafting through the air. He strips his jacket and tosses it to the nearest surface before walking to find Steve in the kitchen.

"Hey," Tony says simply. "Smells good."

Steve glances over his shoulder, and it's pretty evident that he's been crying, but he gives his husband a weak smile. "I'm making chili. How was the flight?"

"Fine." Tony sits at the bar and watches Steve's back as he stirs the chili and adds some sort of spice—maybe garlic powder—before turning his back to the pot.

"You managed to take care of yourself the past two weeks?" the blond asks in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood.

"I managed to survive without you or Pepper reminding me to sleep and eat. How about you? How was your New Year's?"

"It was fun, actually," Steve says with a small smile. "Clint and Natasha came over. We played Scrabble."

"You're the only person who thinks playing Scrabble is fun."

"Anyway," Steve sighs softly. "I did some thinking while you were gone. I know we've both got our issues, but I think we should try marriage counseling."

Tony's not sure if he's ever been so caught off guard before. He's certain that Steve would be in favor of divorce. They've been fighting far too long for things to ever be okay again. Sure, they've had moments in the past months that have been good, but it's certainly not what a marriage ever should be. For Tony, there's no light, and he's certainly not very interested in trying to mend something so completely broken.

"Steve, I've been home for ten minutes and you drop this on me?"

Steve spins around to turn off the chili because he knows that this isn't going to be a quick argument. "Drop what on you? I thought you would be okay with the idea of trying to restore our marriage. Am I wrong in assuming that?"

"No, but—"

"But what, Tony?"

Tony looks into Steve's eyes for no longer than half a second and he can't go through with it. Instead of declining Steve's offer for counseling he asks, "Have you been crying?"

Steve suddenly finds his sock clad feet more interesting than making eye contact with Tony. "If you know the answer is 'yes,' why are you even asking me?"

"Because I wanted an excuse to ask you why."

"Tony, you're my husband!" Steve responds, and he doesn't sound nearly as harsh as he means to. "You don't have to have an excuse to ask me why I've been crying! Look at us! This is why I've been crying," he stresses, gesturing between himself and the shorter man. "I feel like I don't even know you anymore."

Tony's expression softens, "Steve…"

"I do," he insists, and he's trying to hold back the tears that threaten to fall. He's talking so erratically that Tony is having trouble keeping up. "When did we become this couple who fights about anything and everything? I can't even remember the last time we had a civil conversation that lasted longer than five minutes! I thought—I thought having Bucky around would help, but it really didn't. It only made things worse and the sex—the sex is just awful."

"The sex is awful," Tony agrees quietly. "But Steve, all of those other things are problems that normal people have. All couples fight. If they don't, that means there's something wrong."

"I just—I want to go to counseling."

"Steve, I don't know if our relationship is ready for marriage counseling. I don't exactly like the idea of a shrink prying into our private lives."

"Well, I don't know what else to do! So, tell me, because I'm not ready to give up on us. Are you?"

In hindsight Tony is going to wish he'd be more honest. But right now, in this moment, he can't look at Steve and ask for a divorce. At least, not yet.

"No," Tony sighs. "We can try counseling."

So, I'd really like some feedback for this chapter. As always, thanks for reading.