It had been one of the first things that Tony ever said directly to Steve, that his powers had come from a bottle. He regrets them now, along with so many other things that have popped out of his mouth, and he finds the term that much more surreal that it should be said by the guy five days before Tony would be saying it himself.

No, Tony may never utter those words now, not if they can destroy the Tesseract before Loki comes trying to collect on his own debts.

He strolls brought the ornate suite to the marble table, picking up the old fashioned hand held to tuck it between his ear and shoulder. He’ll dial zero for the operator on the rotary, too, not thinking about how far with his germ phobia he’s come, either.

“Might as well get my money’s worth. He’ll be getting the bill,” Tony teases, back to Steve as the shirtless man heads into the bathroom. The order is long...

But not long enough. The shower is still running by the time he’s finished, and that’s long enough to want to call someone he shouldn’t. He doesn’t even have sketchbooks from her to tide him over, either.

But he does have scotch. A lot of scotch.

Enough scotch to get him to wish he had a tie to wrap around his head and wonder why Steve knows him better than he knows Steve.