"Platonic is fine," the older Steve tells the younger mildly. He's not sure to what extent he can read what's between him and Tony, but he knows he tends to wear his heart on his sleeve, and he knows he can read body language. "You don't have to assume this is a template. Things are going to be very different for you than they were for us."

With Bucky around and needing care sooner rather than later, his alternate is bound to be preoccupied (which is exactly why he's not bringing it up yet), but he and Tony both are going to need friends.

Then again, anything could happen. He was just thinking last night that ending up in bed with Tony was inevitable.

As little as Steve-the-younger likes the situation they're heading into, he's somehow been convinced they're both sincere, and he just shakes his head at this, grudgingly amused in spite of himself. "I'm reserving judgment. But I'm going to have a lot of questions for you when this is through."

It's himself he's looking at, judging the man he might become, and that prompts the older version into one last verbal offering. "It doesn't get any easier," he says. "If anything, it gets harder and worse, but--I promise you're strong enough, and you'll get stronger. And you're gonna have backup."

It's probably tricky for Tony to read the look the two Steves exchange, but there's comfort in the familiarity of 'hang tight in the face of insurmountable odds'. It's enough to go on, with a little faith.

On the way out of the church, Steve eyes Tony in his peripheral vision. "I'm not eating pizza unless you know a place that actually makes it right."