“If we’re talking body, you’ve got a perfect one.” Absently, from across the lab.
Steve raises his head. Slowly. Someday when he does it, it’ll hit home and the object of his stare will stop dead and acknowledge the unstable ground he’s just strayed onto. He eyeballs his melodious companion from across twenty feet of space.
“So put it on me,” Tony continues. He pokes the metal tangle in his hands with needle-nose pliers and his tongue climbs out the side of his mouth as he winds something up within. He continues to hum, little off-key bursts that are just this side of ignorable.
Steve clears his throat loudly, but the humming carries on, adopting a definite air. Around Tony’s mouth, Steve can make out a smile.
He heaves a pointed huff, and goes back to his drawing.
Yeah, okay, Steve Rogers knows what sexual harassment is. Despite his out-of-fashion upbringing, he’s not some backwater Neanderthal, thank you, he gets why it’s bad. Horrible, actually; he’ll go to bat for anyone who determines they’re the victim of unwelcome advances in the workplace, and he sure as hell won’t let it to go quietly into the night if it happens to him. He’s not devaluing its impact, for god’s sake. He understands that it is and always has been a Big Issue.
But the key word here, as he sees it, is ‘unwelcome.’ And that… might not be what this is. Tony Stark’s always been a bit of a jackass and Steve’s undecided about the nuance.
“You’re undecided about the nuance,” Sam says, flat, and Steve shrugs.
“Come on. Seventy percent of this has nothing to do with the innuendo and everything to do with me being born in the Twenties.”
“So he chose Tove Lo as his spokesperson?” Sam despairs.
Sam Googles it for him. It’s… kind of catchy, actually. Steve says as much.
“Eesh,” Sam tells the ceiling.
Steve holds out his phone. “Show me how you make the ringtones again?”
“Is it with the Tweeter?”
“Oh my god, Rogers, shut up.”
“Seriously, help me copy paste it. Do I press this thingy—oh—wait—” He sets it as Sam’s personal ringtone and lets it play on repeat, holding it up so Sam can see his dopey profile gif doing the shake. “Aw.”
Sam gives him the hairy eyeball. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know that.”
But Steve’s ready to play this game, and it is a catchy song. The next time Tony sings the line, fiddling with all his little toys again, Steve, over on the couch, follows it up with an inattentive “If you love me right, we’ll love for life.”
The other side of the lab goes quiet. But when Steve looks up, Tony’s futzing with the robotics as though he doesn’t even know Steve’s there.