Steve can’t seem to help but blow his mind. Everything he says is cute and charming. Everything he does just pulls ever so slightly at Tony’s heart, as if he’s doing his best to wrap it all back up and keep it from falling to further pieces. Tony is relatively sure that Steve has no idea the effect he’s having on him, but the smile the older man is sporting might actually give it all away.
Tony is usually pretty great at hiding his emotions behind a wall of sarcastic assholery, but he’s probably never fooled Steve at all.
“I don’t think we have time to do the movie justice,” Tony says as he removes his arm from Steve’s to get the door for him and hold it there. It’s a feat he’s only recently, in the last few years, been able to do. His former everything anyone else might have touched is lava level of OCD has crumbled to something far more manageable.
A full pizza is ordered and since this is one of those old fashioned sort of Brooklyn pizza joints, a plastic pitcher of birch beer gets ordered right along with it. They get a number for their table and as Steve pays out from one his pockets Tony grabs a heap of napkins from the dispenser and picks a booth in the back corner to hide himself in.
Does he wipe down the table? Yes, of course he does. It’s still pretty sticky when Steve sits down but it’s bearable.
Tony leaves his hat on and doesn’t look up at the waitress a few minutes later when she drops off their food and their soda with two plastic tumblers that have seen better days. He’ll let Steve pick the first slice if only to gloat at how good this place is.
“Used to have it flown in when I was in Malibu,” he grins. They can Ocean’s Eleven Atlantic City in a few hours. Technically, this is their first date after all and Tony has some iota of old fashioned romance rattling around in his skull from time to time. “Uh, by the way, this is where you’re supposed to be impressed.”
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Tony is usually pretty great at hiding his emotions behind a wall of sarcastic assholery, but he’s probably never fooled Steve at all.
“I don’t think we have time to do the movie justice,” Tony says as he removes his arm from Steve’s to get the door for him and hold it there. It’s a feat he’s only recently, in the last few years, been able to do. His former everything anyone else might have touched is lava level of OCD has crumbled to something far more manageable.
A full pizza is ordered and since this is one of those old fashioned sort of Brooklyn pizza joints, a plastic pitcher of birch beer gets ordered right along with it. They get a number for their table and as Steve pays out from one his pockets Tony grabs a heap of napkins from the dispenser and picks a booth in the back corner to hide himself in.
Does he wipe down the table? Yes, of course he does. It’s still pretty sticky when Steve sits down but it’s bearable.
Tony leaves his hat on and doesn’t look up at the waitress a few minutes later when she drops off their food and their soda with two plastic tumblers that have seen better days. He’ll let Steve pick the first slice if only to gloat at how good this place is.
“Used to have it flown in when I was in Malibu,” he grins. They can Ocean’s Eleven Atlantic City in a few hours. Technically, this is their first date after all and Tony has some iota of old fashioned romance rattling around in his skull from time to time. “Uh, by the way, this is where you’re supposed to be impressed.”