Sometimes, the two of them are too noble for their own good.

But this, actually cooking again, and with Tony in the kitchen with him, Steve could never have imagined that he'd get to experience something like this. It feels like a nostalgic sort of sweet and he rarely gets the chance to remember that feeling.

There's a moment when, as he stands between Tony's dangling legs, watching him contemplating the sauce, Steve wonders what life would be like if they could do this all the time — but he pushes that thought aside before he can want it too much. He knows that won't be possible and that he can't resign himself to a life filled with only personal happiness. Tony probably can't either.

But all of that doesn't make this moment any less sweet.

"As long as you keep expectations low," he says, lowering the empty spoon as he grins. "Three more dates and you'll have tasted everything I know how to cook."

With the sauce simmering and the pasta in the pot, Steve has a little time, so he lingers here for awhile, letting his fondness for Tony's presence temporarily soothe some of the tension he's been carrying for days. At some point, he lets out a breath, and as much as Steve wants to lean his forehead down against Tony's shoulder, he doesn't. Not tonight. Not when Tony just got a broken rib. Instead, he just gives him an affectionate grin before leaning in to kiss him again.