Tony was tired. Not really in the sense where he hadn't been sleeping, since he'd been getting a few hours in here and there and that maybe wasn't as much as he should have been getting but it was more than none, but in a mentally exhausted sort of way. There was just a lot weighing heavily on his shoulders lately, and he supposed that wasn't anything all that new but he had sort of hoped that living in a place where the population hovered at fifty would be a little less stressful than worrying about the population of the entire universe.
But really, he just worried about that on top of fifty some specific people.
The unrest in the town he was trying to lead was stressful -- knowing that so many people had such a low opinion of him wasn't surprising, but it grated. Peter disappearing, Natasha dying in their future. Morgan. It was all a lot.
He was lucky, he knew. To have friends here who cared. He was lucky to have Steve. Steve, who Tony still felt scared to be with, even as he thought maybe he was in love with him. The proper kind instead of a wistful infatuation.
Steve, who had taken one look at him after the last few days and had dragged him off to those doors without words or explanation because it was so obvious that Tony needed a little space, just a few degrees of separation from a town that he hadn't named, even though it had his name on it.
Three suns should have been two too many, but it didn't really feel like it, and Tony shucked his shoes and socks off, letting the sand get between his toes even as he watched Steve lose more than that. "In a rush?" he asked, sort of wishing they'd thought to bring refreshments.