Chapter Text
Sam leaned over Tony and raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”
“Hmmm bad,” Tony answered after some thought, and with a very big frown. “Sam. Sam. Sam.”
“Yeah, honey?” Sam asked, sighing, and tugged Tony upright to sit instead of lying strewn across the couch in a position that would leave him sore and whining in the morning.
“‘M sorry, Sam.”
Sam paused, hands gentling, before he went back to settling him, tugging his clothes straight, unbuttoning the collar of his shirt. “It’s okay.”
“‘S not okay,” Tony mumbled, looking put-out. “You’re here and you’re all kind and gentle and sweet and I’m here just… being a bother.”
“You’re not a bother,” Sam replied firmly, and when he saw Tony gearing up to rebut him, asked, “How much did you drink?”
Tony’s mouth snapped closed, and he looked deeply ashamed. He said nothing.
“Come on, Tony,” Sam cajoled gently. “Trust me. I won’t be mad.”
“You will,” Tony said miserably. He tried to flop over onto the couch again.
“Stop that,” Sam sighed, pulling him back up into sitting position.
Tony sighed too, somehow managing to look even more miserable. “See? You’re mad.”
“I’m not mad,” Sam said, and smiled a little in amusement when Tony huffed in disbelief. “I’m not!” When he began to pout, Sam added, “Careful with that lip, otherwise I’ll have to tell you how cute you are when you pout.”
Tony scowled but failed to stop looking adorable. “I don’t pout.”
“Okay,” Sam agreed, tone not giving away how much he really wanted to coo that he was doing it right now, and it was cute. “C’mon, Tony, I won’t be mad. I promise.” When the smaller man appeared to waver, Sam stuck his hand out “Come on. I pinky promise.”
Tony stared at his outstretched hand for a moment before reluctantly (if fondly) reaching out to wrap their pinkies together. “I drank a lot.”
“How much is a lot?” Sam asked, bouncing his hand a little.
Tony sighed miserably and seemed to sink into himself. “An entire bottle of gin.”
Sam had to fight to not swallow his tongue, and then again to not shout. “An entire bottle? How did you manage that? I’m surprised you’re still conscious.”
“Clint kept making sloe gin fizzes and I kept drinking them,” Tony said sadly.
“Aw,” Sam sighed even as he surreptitiously pulled out his phone to text Clint. “Poor baby. Come to bed and sleep it off, honey.”
Tony sighed like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I! Am too drunk! To move!”
“Okay, well, I’ll carry you then,” Sam replied.
I started watering down his drinks after his second glass. Thor drank most of the gin, came Clint’s prompt reply. He’s just tired because we made a bunch of nachos and he ate most of those. He’s overly full lol.
“Sam no don’t move me I’ll hurt your back,” Tony wailed.
Sam ignored him. First of all, Tony wasn’t that heavy, and secondly, if he wasn’t struggling, it was fine. Tony, thankfully, decided not to struggle this time, and snuggled up against his chest greedily.
“Sam will you cuddle in bed with me?” Tony asked plaintively. “I’m laid low and need comfort.”
Sam rolled his eyes, amused, but pressed a kiss to Tony’s forehead to take the sting out of it. “Okay, honey.”
“Yay!” Tony exclaimed, brightening. Then he froze. “Uh.” He looked up at Sam before trying his best to look miserable again. “I mean, ugh, oh, Sam, I feel faint and sickly, take care of me–”
“I was gonna do that anyway, you big baby,” Sam retorted fondly.
Tony beamed up at him. Sam had no choice–he had to kiss that smile.