He shouldn't enjoy making Steve flustered over the tease of his shirt, but he does. Not maliciously, but just because Steve gets that look on his face that makes him want to kiss him all over again, and thankfully he's leaning in for another kiss before he needs to ask him to.
That playfulness is gone from Tony's features, though, by the time Steve is back. The old scars had already been enough, but with the ones from the bombing... Well. Those are new enough to make them more obvious - or at least that's how it feels, although that might also be because of how much he hates them - and Tony just looks at anywhere but Steve when he's back in the room. Because, god, he looks hideous. Steve is quite literally the definition of perfection, and here he is. With his chest all marked, and the glowing thing in his chest essentially attracting attention now that it's in full display.
It's not until Steve offers him his shirt that Tony speaks again, a quiet thanks although he doesn't quite move just yet, and he also doesn't really make eye contact. It's not until Steve goes into the kitchen that Tony moves again, pulling the shirt on as carefully as possible even if he has to bite back a groan when he makes a movement that's apparently too quick. He almost stands again, ready to make some sort of distracting conversation, but suddenly Steve is back and offering him an ice pack of sorts.
"Thanks," he repeats, and carefully presses the towel against his side. "It... I mean, it hurts, but it's not a big deal." I'm used to it, he almost says as well, but. "It's fine, really. This is helping."
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That playfulness is gone from Tony's features, though, by the time Steve is back. The old scars had already been enough, but with the ones from the bombing... Well. Those are new enough to make them more obvious - or at least that's how it feels, although that might also be because of how much he hates them - and Tony just looks at anywhere but Steve when he's back in the room. Because, god, he looks hideous. Steve is quite literally the definition of perfection, and here he is. With his chest all marked, and the glowing thing in his chest essentially attracting attention now that it's in full display.
It's not until Steve offers him his shirt that Tony speaks again, a quiet thanks although he doesn't quite move just yet, and he also doesn't really make eye contact. It's not until Steve goes into the kitchen that Tony moves again, pulling the shirt on as carefully as possible even if he has to bite back a groan when he makes a movement that's apparently too quick. He almost stands again, ready to make some sort of distracting conversation, but suddenly Steve is back and offering him an ice pack of sorts.
"Thanks," he repeats, and carefully presses the towel against his side. "It... I mean, it hurts, but it's not a big deal." I'm used to it, he almost says as well, but. "It's fine, really. This is helping."