[ These dates never turn out like this. It's rarely just conversation over brunch and good coffee, and it's rarely veiled flirting that actually does something to make a little heat prickle at the back of his neck. The brush of Zemo's fingers against the pull of the smirk is definitely intriguing, and for once Steve likes the back and forth. Particularly right now, where he almost feels like he has more control over the situation, more freedom.
He cuts a piece of french toast with his fork, taking his time to eat and enjoy the sticky sweet on his tongue. It's a little unfair that he glances up at Zemo from under his lashes as he does so, listening to him talk. He swipes at his lips after, clearing syrup from the corner of his mouth. Two can play at that game. Well, until there's the mention of Michelangelo, and he laughs suddenly, bright and warm and unexpected. ]
And what unspeakable things? [ He leans in across the table, just enough so he can lower his voice. ] Mm, I can think of a few, but if they're really so unspeakable then I guess you'll just have to wait and find out. Maybe I'm mysterious.
[ In a way, he is, but Steve doesn't exactly feel like he's veiling himself here, as if he's shrouding the warmth of that awkward, skinny, sick boy from years and years ago. If this had been another life, he could see this little table in a little cafe being their first real date, he could imagine he met Helmut Zemo in a hazy club and it all tumbled out from there.
He smiles, a little rueful, and stabs again at his french toast. ]
Nice of the general public to help us out last minute. I'll make sure I put on enough of a show that the tailors spread it all like wildfire. I'll have to test how it moves and breathes, right? A good suit is worth every stitch.
no subject
He cuts a piece of french toast with his fork, taking his time to eat and enjoy the sticky sweet on his tongue. It's a little unfair that he glances up at Zemo from under his lashes as he does so, listening to him talk. He swipes at his lips after, clearing syrup from the corner of his mouth. Two can play at that game. Well, until there's the mention of Michelangelo, and he laughs suddenly, bright and warm and unexpected. ]
And what unspeakable things? [ He leans in across the table, just enough so he can lower his voice. ] Mm, I can think of a few, but if they're really so unspeakable then I guess you'll just have to wait and find out. Maybe I'm mysterious.
[ In a way, he is, but Steve doesn't exactly feel like he's veiling himself here, as if he's shrouding the warmth of that awkward, skinny, sick boy from years and years ago. If this had been another life, he could see this little table in a little cafe being their first real date, he could imagine he met Helmut Zemo in a hazy club and it all tumbled out from there.
He smiles, a little rueful, and stabs again at his french toast. ]
Nice of the general public to help us out last minute. I'll make sure I put on enough of a show that the tailors spread it all like wildfire. I'll have to test how it moves and breathes, right? A good suit is worth every stitch.