The Crash Effect - for capcicle

[starkingenuity]

Tony Stark does not do moderation.  Oh, he tries, he flirts with it, takes it out for a nice dinner and promises not to be a one night stand but inevitably, he leaves it for a walk of shame in the morning, condom wrapper stuck to it's left heel

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[capcicle]

JARVIS informed him that he'd keep an eye on 'Mr. Stark' when Tony had disappeared down the hall and Steve had to take the AI's word on it, had to force himself to move in the opposite direction and not follow the staggering figure to make sure the man didn't slip and crack his head open on the tiles. It was surprisingly harder to do.

He found the kitchen and immediately started rummaging around in what fridge for anything edible. He didn't find a lot, really, that he'd consider actual food but there was enough in take out boxes and a few assorted items hidden away in drawers and behind bottles of something to make a small meal. It wouldn't be much but he figured he'd get something into Tony and hopefully see him to bed then head down to an all-night grocer a few blocks away to get something a little more substantial for the morning. He was arranging the foodstuffs on two separate plates when Tony came back in and barely looked up to acknowledge the fact until he was grabbing both and heading to the bar, nodding towards the stools for Tony to sit.

"Is it really stalking when I was invited?"

[starkingenuity]

"First of all, you weren't invited. You were pranked. And second, yes, it's still stalking. Jarvis, stop aiding and abetting my stalkers." He's not exactly pleased by the little feast that Steve sets in front of him because his stomach, though primed for food, has been fasting for days now and it probably can't hold it. He picks at it, not to be polite, but to satisfy the ache in his belly and drinks the rest of his meal instead.

Getting good and inebriated is the way a man deals with his problems. Television and lack of strong male role models have told him so. Plus, scotch gets results. Luckily, his brain is not trying to murder him with too many new ideas right now. He's only got one thing on his mind:

Get rid of Steve Fucking Rogers and his plastic hair and doe eyes before the man gives him cavities with his morality.

It's not that Tony dislikes the man, he can't actually find a lot at fault with him at all, but he still reminds him of his dad. Little blurb of forgotten film aside, Tony is still and will never be Howard Stark's number one fan.

[capcicle]

It doesn't go unnoticed that Tony doesn't eat though he looks both covetously and disgusted at his plate, at Steve's plate. He watches, worry twisting his stomach in knots, as the man pushes the food around the colored ceramic, smashing bits here, separating bits there, making it look like he'd eaten more than the bird's portion he'd pecked out -- Granted the only one who ate more than Steve was Thor but he knew Tony needed more than what he was getting.

"If JARVIS didn't aid and abet you'd probably be passed out where I'd found you," He points out. "Tony you looked awful. Still do, to be honest." Steve shifted, putting his fork down, and just looked at Tony. He looked little better than he had before the shower and he was pretty sure there was still grease peeking out from behind the man's ears. "You look like you went twelve rounds with Barney Ross!"

"What's going on with you, Tony?"

[starkingenuity]

How can something smell so delicious and so revolting at the same time? Tony looks like he's lost the ability to properly use a fork or is trying out a new painting technique on whatever that orange bit of mash use to once be. He doesn't look up at Steve Rogers, hero out of time, older and younger and wise and so insanely simply that Stark has a hard time placing him properly in the right sequence of thoughts. He pretends that the bit of brown mush is that idea for a new jet engine rotator blade that's creeping back into his mind and squashes it out before he abandons all hope and fork and food to the plate.

Now Steve can have his attention. The destruction is over, the blade has sunk back into the ocean and once again, no one will mourn how close they were to getting a more fuel efficient piece of machinery in their lives. Airlines would have wept to know.

"I was working. You interupted me. I hope you're happy."

Tony's lips draw upwards before the collapse again.

"I had gotten distracted. I'm fine. Put away the soulful eyes, Augie Doggie." He picks up the fork once again and eyes Steve's hair. How amusing it would be gets outweighed by how hard he'd get punched. Another time, maybe. "You can go now."