Poor addled 100 year old virgin brain. Tony can follow stream of consciousness like it’s a language he’s fluent in and he lets Steve make his false starts and his turn arounds, he lets him correct what needs to be correct and to press against him while he does it. Tony could use another drink, not because his brain has fired back up and he wants to dull it again, but because he’s an alcoholic and his body just craves the liquor when he starts to rise from the dullness found at the bottom of the bottle. He shifts, a less impressive than Steve’s bicep curling beneath the blond’s head so that he can stroke the back of his hair with a practiced hand.

After Pepper was infected with Extremis, this was all the intimacy she would allow Tony, afraid to burn him alive if her pulse got racing. He’s become very good at snuggling as a result. Steve certainly will benefit for that.

“We’ve got a long time together. Probably. I don’t intend to die trying to save the world this time and I could really use you promising me that you won’t take risks just to see if you’ll fall off the edge of those cliffs you were singing to the ocean about.” Tony’s skin yields to Steve’s touch, no longer flinching involuntarily away. Naked and being embraced by god’s gift to mankind is strange comfortable. “There’s going to be a lot of time to make up for all of your lost time.” And his too. He just won’t put it that way. “But we have to get our heads in the game. So what I need for you to need to be is focused. I know we’ve spent most of our time together taking jabs but... uh... that’s not something that can happen any more. So what do I need to do to bring you back from the snap? I know you’ve got a leg up on punching Hitler but in case you’ve missed the headlines, I’m a pretty well known super hero too.”

Let him save you, Rogers.