Steve hadn't expected that. He might of had he thought they were literally trying to kill one another, and not get his very drunk friend to stop making an ass of himself. That kind of blast could kill a man.
Steve flew back into the other room, through the crowd of people, skidding across the floor, and was still for a moment. Thankfully, Steve was not like most men. Adrenaline helped mask the pain in his chest, flesh bruised, and a bit burnt, glowering at Tony in disbelief. If this wasn't proof that he was out of control he didn't know what was. But now was far past the time for gentle words. If Tony was blasting off his repulsors at anyone who stood up to him that meant it was time to take him down.
He pushed himself to his, and the crowd seemed far more willing to part after seeing the look on his face. He crossed the room in what felt like a heart beat, fists clenched and swinging for his jaw.
Kicking and screaming it was. Or maybe unconscious.