Steve was trying to get out the door for his classes today, truly he was. Every time he turned around, though, he was blocked by duffel bags labeled "HOWLING COMMANDOS" or neat, compact and heavy hatboxes with "PEGGY" and "SHARON" on them. The suitcases labeled "BUCKY", "BUCKY (OTHER)," and "BUCKY (OTHER OTHER)" had already been shoved against the wall with some super-strength and he honestly wasn't sure if the giant safe labeled "NEVER ENOUGH" that was blocking the elevator belonged to him or to Tony, but either way, it wasn't moving.

So he'd retreated to the kitchen and the comfort of reheated bagels from New York and ignoring the "FOOD INSECURITY" box blocking his way to the pantry.

It was gonna be a day. He could tell.

After the kaiju had had been incapacitated, horribly murdered, or yeeted bodily through the portal, Tony and Steve had invited those who were still in the park back to their place for drinks, snacks, and rehashing the awesomeness.

Because it wasn't an "invite the entire town" (they needed to do another one of those soon) event, Steve instructed JARVIS to let the guests onto his and Tony's private floors and direct them to the living room, with a giant red couch adorned with far too many gold and blue throw pillows, a television that matched the scale of the couch...and a corgi sleeping inside of Steve's cleaned shield in the corner. The art on the walls was a mixture of Piet Mondrian and black and white sketches of a very familiar corgi.

The windows let in the last of the evening's light and Steve and Tony had abused JARVIS' good nature and food ordering abilities to get a variety of moddable snacks for people with post-battle stomachs to fill. (Not just Steve and Thor's, through there was enough that even if those two ate their fill, they rest of you won't starve.)

C'mon in, everyone!

[OOC: If you were in the park or want to mod that you were there at some point today, c'mon over!]

Steve wasn't the most amazing chef, but he did have leftover Spam and Fruit Cocktail Party Loaf!

And salad, for balance. Hopefully Tony had eaten something in New York before he came back from the board meeting.

[OOC: For that guy.]

Steve woke up feeling warm and cozy, which was unusual enough to have him opening his eyes. The room he was in was huge! The bed was also huge!

"Gee willikers!" Steve said loudly enough to wake up any one else in the room, with a Brooklyn accent thick enough to warn Tony what kind of weekend he was in for.

[OOC: For the husband!]

Steve and Tony had returned from Steve's dimension at an ungodly time that morning and had almost immediately collapsed into bed. (Patriot had been ecstatic to see them home and so Steve'd had to take him for a long walk to get those wiggles out. At three in the morning. Patriot owed him. So did Tony.) Steve had, for once, forgone his pre-dawn run and was still in bed as the clock's numbers read 10:00.

He finally opened his eyes with a tiny groan. His stomach let out a much less tiny rumble in reply. Time to get up.

[OOC: For the husband!]

Steve absolutely knew better than to be on a touristy neighborhood like this, which was part of why he'd chosen it as a safe place to meet the other Avengers who were still hiding from Ross and the fallout of the Sokovia Accords. Anyone who happened to catch sight of their faces, he hoped, would either be too drunk to remember or too focused on robbing those too drunk to remember to bother anyone about it. Steve was moving quickly despite the sweltering heat--he was not born to amble--and began to wonder if Sam had suggested a New Orleans meeting in August as some sort of payback for being taken to the Raft. He felt the sweat beading under his "don't notice me" ball cap (even super-serum had to work hard against Southern humidity) as he dodged around drunken, surprisingly handsy revelers and tried not to breathe in the unique blend of fried dough, pot, puke, seafood, and spilled Hurricanes too deeply. He was definitely not looking to see what was sticking to his sneakers. He was a city kid and there were some questions you never wanted the answer to.

He turned down St. Philip Street after passing the blacksmith bar and heard Sam's voice in his head warning him about not being a moron and staying on this side of the road and leaving the LaLaurie Mansion the "hell alone, I mean it, Steve." He was blaming watching the house for why the arm around his neck dragging him into a nearby darkened courtyard caught him by surprise.

Steve knew that this day was tough for Tony and that was why he'd left him to his own devices for a few hours to bang around in the lab and get some of those emotions out. He'd also sent a card up to the Tony of his universe up in New York: with Rhodey temporarily out of commission, he didn't want Tony to feel alone or forgotten about on Father's Day. (It turned out that no one made a "sorry the guy I know in the war turned out to be a huge disappointment as a father but I think you're swell" card. Steve hoped a "Thinking of You" and a bottle of the midend (for Tony) Scotch that he like conveyed the same sort of thing.)

Steve was up in the gym trying to get the hang of riding on the jetpowered rollerskates Tony had made for him. He turned too sharply as he ran out of ballroom floor, hit the ground hard and winced as his shoulder did something it shouldn't have. "JARVIS?" he called from the floor. "Can you ask Tony to bring up the first aid kit? But first be sure to tell him I'm not that hurt."

[OOC: For the husband.]

Well, the good news is that none of Tony's sixteen Iron Man suits escaped the lab to wreak havoc on the island.

The bad news was everything else. The lab was destroyed, the dog was exhausted, and Steve was--not to put too fine a point on it--beat to hell and back. After the final suit had been disabled with Tony still inside it, knocked out and then tied up (and don't think that wasn't going to give Steve nightmares for the rest of his days)--Steve made his way (crawled. There had been crawling.) into the little medical clinic/closet Tony'd tucked into the back of the lab for dealing with lab accidents he didn't want Steve knowing about, barricaded the door, and passed out on the steel floor.

And that's where he still was, many hours later.

[OOC: For the SUPER GROUNDED husband.]

Steve hadn't gone back to Manhattan for the good Chinese food but he was definitely using dinner to bribe Tony out of the lab again. He poked his into the lab and held up the bag of Thai food. "If you want any of the chicken satay, you need to put your work down for ten minutes," he said, smiling. "Patriot smelled the peanut sauce and is getting very pushy."

[OOC: For the husband!]