If they didn't live in this crazy dystopian underground, Tony wouldn't hesitate in suggesting spending more time together. Even with their crazy schedules and lives, he would suggest it, he would find ways to see him more often, he would do something to be able to spend more time with him. Here, though... Here, it's different. He knows the weight that Steve puts on himself in this place, the sense of responsibility that he feels. He knows how long he works for, how much he pushes himself, so...no. He won't say anything, even if that's all he wants every time that they have to say goodnight.

For now, though, he's enjoying this. Which is surprising even to him, to enjoy this level of domesticity that he's not particularly used to, and he's trying to just savor it for as long as it lasts.

Watching Steve move along the kitchen, he smiles faintly as he rests one hand on the counter to more or less prop himself up, and the other one to continue pressing the rice against his body. And, despite his crappy eating schedule, he feels his appetite growing as he cooks. It really does smell amazing, which is why, when Steve offers him a taste, he grins. "Yep, I'm ready for my part."

And, sure enough, the sauce is as delicious as it smells. With a hum of approval, he nods. "That is amazing. So do I get to call you a good chef now?"