That was such an honest look of horror at the fate of Steve's orgasm that Tony's laugh came out as a snort, his lips pursed against the grin that easily won out, making him slouch forward with both hands tucked between them, giving the back of Steve's thigh a playful pinch as he giggled. "I have the most terrible role model," he pointed out. "Good god, Winghead," he realized then, sure it was impossible in the face of Steve's immobile personality, "am I corrupting you?" It sounded funny, especially if it meant such a kind wake up call, but if Tony was going to keep laughing he couldn't linger on it for too long, quickly working his way back up Steve's chest to wrap his arms around his shoulders. That wasn't the way this relationship was supposed to work, Tony was marrying up, not dragging the whole galaxy down with him. Was that why he wasn't wearing the uniform now, he didn't think he deserved it anymore? Tony demanded a biting kiss, squirming his hips closer as though the idea of the corruption of Steve's righteousness was a turn on, muttering, "C'mon, bathroom, tik tok," when he could steal a breath to get out of that horrible loop before it started taking over either of their systems. He could fix the bug later, when Steve didn't have to worry about it.