There was a moment's debate for Steve, over whether to tell Peggy he had plans to meet up with Stark back in the Capitol once this wretched weekend was over, but in the end, he decided against it. It wasn't a decision that had anything to do with not trusting Peggy, so much as this was something Steve wanted to play a little closer to the vest. For all that Bucky had been present for the start of it, and for all that Steve had let Peggy in on some of the details, the demonstration in District 8 still somehow felt so horribly personal to Steve, and against all odds it seemed like Stark was the only other person who might actually understand that.
That was all guesswork on Steve's part though; he wasn't at all sure that was what Stark wanted to talk about with him. Hell, maybe after Steve's behavior in the elevator, Stark just thought he'd be an easy lay and wanted a quick fuck before Steve headed home. Steve fervently hoped that wasn't the case; otherwise, both he and Stark were going to part ways disappointed.
"He was sober when I saw him," Steve finally said. "He fixed the elevator we got stuck in." That was half the story, at best, but Steve didn't feel the need to delve into any further details. Peggy could probably imagine what had transpired, since she'd gotten a full dose of Steve at his worst shortly thereafter.
"And I wasn't trying to find company, Peggy," he added gently. He met her eyes again as he said it, not wanting her to doubt him on this point for even a second. "I was trying to get back to my room. I didn't realize what was going on, exactly, but I could recognize that things were a little bit off, so I thought it'd be best to get away." While he still had the control needed to make that decision, he didn't say. He probably didn't need to, since that control had evaporated completely by the time Peggy came knocking.
He hated to see that expression on her face though, hated hearing that sort of self-recrimination in her voice, when none of this was her fault. "You were being a friend," Steve said sternly, unwilling to hear her speak against herself. "None of this is on you, Peggy, I don't blame you for any of it. You came to check on me, and instead you got me begging you - I practically made you - " He bit off the rest of his words and pressed two fingers to the spot between his brows, like he could stave off the tension building there.
"You don't have anything to apologize for," he said, voice soft. "But if you can't find it in yourself to forgive me, I won't blame you for that."