[ The phrasing's a bit hard for Steve to wrap his head around, but they're both drunk and it kind of makes sense to his ale-addled brain. ]

You know how I feel about that.

[ He kisses Tony sloppily, because he's unable to keep the smile off his face as they come together. Tony's hands on his cheeks just makes him so very happy in this moment, and he can't help but to grin like a cat who's caught a bird.

When Tony grabs his ass he doesn't know whether to move backwards into the touch or forwards to grind his hips into Tony's, so he tries both in succession and stars dot the back of his eyelids. ]

Never have I ever... been able to get you off my mind.

[ It's a near-constant thing, to think of Tony. He's always thought it was just on par the course with loving Tony Stark: the man never did anything in half-measures so why would this be any different? Why would this be any less than obsessive and all-consuming? Sometimes it's dizzying just to think that they're here together, almost overwhelming in nature. But Steve loves this too, loves feeling this way, and loves knowing that Tony is the same.

He works on Tony's shirt, his movements graceless, definitely pulling a few buttons along the way. ]

Wait, wait, you do this. I'm destroying your shirt.