Steve gets dressed in the time it takes Tony to manage a pair of pants.

He can't help but think he should be insisting that Tony goes back to bed.

Instead he escorts Tony, slowly, down to the kitchen.

There's no sign of Alfred, or Pete, in the kitchen so it must have been Jarvis that turned on the coffee machine.

Tony nearly trips over where the legs of his pants come down over his feet in his haste to get to the coffee.

'Jarvis,' Steve watches him in dismay, 'is he alright?'

'Yes, Captain,' Jarvis tells him. 'Sir just needs more sleep.'

'The coffee won't help.'

'Sir has slept two hours in the last forty eight,' Jarvis replies, 'coffee won't prevent sleep for long.'

'Stop talking about me,' Tony sways his way back over.

'Sure, Tony,' he makes sure he's close enough to catch Tony if he falls.

'Where's Pete?' Tony looks around as he breathes in the vapour from his coffee.

'Peter became distracted on his way through the ballroom,' Jarvis reports.

Steve gets out the ingredients for waffles and the ancient looking waffle iron.

'Distracted?' Tony walks over and lounges at his side.

'Peter has discovered that he can slide a long way across the floor on his knees if he has a run up,' Jarvis reports.

Steve grins to himself and keeps stirring.

'Fair,' Tony turns and slides down the cabinet to sit on the floor by Steve's feet. 'Coffee?'

A mug is waved in the air, level with his waist.

'Sure, Tony,' he takes the mug but doesn't move to refill it.

Pete appears through the door with the knees of his onesie thoroughly scuffed,

'Dada!' he climbs into his father's lap. 'Cold, Dada?' he pats Tony's bare chest.

'Yeah,' Tony gathers his son into a hug.

'Sit at the table,' Steve smiles down and watches Pete scramble to obey.

Once Pete's eating Steve pulls Tony to his feet and takes his own overshirt off to put around his friend's shoulders.

Tony hums and blinks at him.

'Tony, you still with me?' Steve waits for Tony's gaze to focus.

'Hey sweetheart,' Tony smiles at him before stepping round him to the coffee machine.

Steve smiles back hoplessly as Tony pours himself another coffee,

'Do you want a waffle, Tony?'

Tony sways his way back to his side with his coffee and dosn't reply.

Steve opts to take this as a yes and plates a waffle and some fruit and takes it, and Tony, to the table.

By now Pete has finished his own food and jumps down from the table,

'Time for clothes now,' he tells Steve quite seriously.

'Yes,' Steve agrees with a smile. 'Shall we wait for your dada?'

'Jarvis can help me,' Pete bounces to he door. 'Jarvis always helps with bath time.'

'Umm..?' he stands torn between following Pete and staying with Tony incase he tries cracking his skull open.

'Sir does not like baths from his time in Afganistan,' Jarvis replies calmly. 'I bath Pete using one of sir's suits.'

Christ…

Tony picks his way through the fruit and tears the waffle into pieces. Steve watches him patiently long after finishing his own breakfast.

'Steve?' Tony blinks at him.

'Yes, Tony?'

'I think I need to go back to sleep now.'

'I think that's a really good idea,' Steve smiles at him.

'Where's Pete?' Tony asks once Steve has gotten him to his feet.

'Pete is helping Alfred polish the silverwear ahead of the Gala,' Jarvis replies.

'Of course he is,' Tony mutters and butts his head into Steve's arm. 'Steeeeeeve. Steve.'

'Yes, Tony?' Steve already had one arm around his friend's waist to keep him upright but has to catch hold of his shoulder too.

This is a bit like hard work.

'I think I need more coffee.'

'I think you need to sleep,' he replies. 'Come on.'

'You're warm,' Tony tells him pressing his nose into Steve's throat as he steps closer.

'Yeah,' he swallows. 'Bed time, Tony.'

Steve has given up now; he scoops Tony into his arms and carries him back up the stairs. He was expecting Tony to object to this treatment but he just flings an arm around Steve's neck and falls asleep.

'Ok then,' he mutters to himself.

He nudges open the door to Tony's suite with his foot and carries his friend inside. There are toys across the floor and a door standing open to the left which leads to a large bedroom.

'Here we are,' he manages to prop Tony up in a sitting position on the bed as he tugs the covers out of the way.

'But the bedbugs!' Tony whines before turning over, curling around his pillow and falling asleep.

Steve chuckles quietly,

'Sweet dreams,' he tells him hopelessly and tugs the covers up.

He is so far gone it's embarrassing.