Steve / Tony
Hotels in Vegas were and always had been fairly over the top. Much like the city itself, really. But it wasn't a bad thing, not at all. Because there was excessive air conditioning -- Tony had missed that quite a lot, even when it hadn't been stupidly hot in Starklandia, even if he ran cold there was something really nice about piling on blankets no matter what the time of year. And there was a pool.
And pools in Vegas came with a bottle service, so Tony could sit around in umbrella'd shade, sit at the edge of the pool with his feet stuck in the cool water, and drink better quality stuff than Pancho's generally ever had.
Oh, and there was eye candy too. Because he had a Steve with him.
Well, not just any Steve. His Steve. And so it was good.