"Fifty for an hour," Steve tells her. "Sixty for my mouth." Steve sells the only thing he’s got left and Natasha's buying. She’s not the only one.

“I dunno, I just—” Tony wrung his hands and dropped his head as tears began to well up, overwhelmed. “I don’t—” “Oh, baby boy,” Steve said. “Why didn’tcha come ‘ta me earlier?” Tony whimpered, frustrated. Steve sighed and began to unbuckle his pants. "Don't ya worry now," he promised, rucking up Tony's dress. "I give it ta you, promise."