[He could so very happily drown in Steve in this moment and it'd probably be the best way to go. The way their lips slide against each other, disconnect and reconnect, broken up by smiles and their soft, shared laughter. Sometimes at nothing, it doesn't really matter. He's liquor-loose and having a great time with Steve atop him.]

You're a little too good at this game.

[Amused, tow lone and rumbly as he hums the words against Steve's mouth while he's still there. And when Steve starts pawing at his shirt he thinks he should help. Probably try and unbutton himself out of his waistcoat and his shirt- but instead his hands are shifting up along Steve's back, grabbing his shirt instead as if he intends to pull it off for him.

Though when Steve stills Tony does, too, trying his best to listen because Steve said wait and-

The reason why has him biting his own lower lip and it must be obvious what he's about to say.]

Go ahead. Rip it. Take it off me. But let me take off yours first before you do.

[Even though he assumes Steve won't have to do much flexing if any, it must be like tearing paper to him. But Tony will so very clearly take any opportunity to get Steve out of his clothes anyway.]