"“Since when does Steve Rogers drink?” Tony teases. He watches Steve getting closer and closer, stopping only when his body is pressed up to Tony’s right side.
Tony ignores his accelerated heartbeat and blames the sudden heat on his third drink.
Steve took the first step, actively sparing Tony from further worrying about the plan, but exposing him to a whole new category of overthinking.
“It’s iced tea, Tony.” Steve smiles. His free hand wanders down Tony’s spine. “You know I don’t drink on the job,” he finishes, hand resting on Tony’s hip. Holy shit.