[somehow he doubts that, even as steve tries to make it sound convincing. that shower photo seemed...fresh, to say the least, but maybe that's part of the facade too. except that facade is certainly starting to blur - and if he weren't so dazed at his "boyfriend's" appearance right now maybe he'd linger on the questions in the back of his mind. should he pay steve for this time? is he here waiting for another date? or did he expressly come here off the clock to spend time with him because...
the hand at his back feels possessive, even moreso as it shifts downward to the little divot and he can feel the warm flex of fingers against it. it makes him want to shiver, to pull back and kiss his handsome, surprisingly stubbled face stupid like he would if steve was really his in this moment. it's maddeningly distracting, enough that zemo's gaze drops to his lips in a way he supposes he could explain away as fascination at his new look. before he can think better of it, he leans in to steal a kiss pressed lightly to the corner of his mouth - something the rest of the table won't be able to see from their angle and will assume it's something a little more heated. like the gala which he'd successfully managed to tamp down on replaying in his head until right about now.
there's something both apologetic and seeking approval in his gaze when he pulls back, hearing the whine in pietro's voice before registering the words and sighing heavily even as he shifts off the seat and gestures for their waiter to bring another. he rolls his eyes lightly, sokovian slurring a little bit from the wine and pleasant feeling steve has enhanced bubbling up in his stomach.]
Be nice, Pietro - this is as much a surprise for me as it is for you. And I did tell you he was this pretty, now you see? Unbelievable, right?
[he listens to them exchange pleasantries, pietro putting up a stubborn front as steve graciously manages to diffuse it with flattery. zemo thanks the waiter for the extra seat, nudging it next to steve's and angling it so their legs brush when he crosses one over the other.]
All you are missing is little Wanda - Pietro's sister. Steve you must tell me, what kinds of pretty friends do you have? If we find one for bleskový he won't be so hard on us.
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the hand at his back feels possessive, even moreso as it shifts downward to the little divot and he can feel the warm flex of fingers against it. it makes him want to shiver, to pull back and kiss his handsome, surprisingly stubbled face stupid like he would if steve was really his in this moment. it's maddeningly distracting, enough that zemo's gaze drops to his lips in a way he supposes he could explain away as fascination at his new look. before he can think better of it, he leans in to steal a kiss pressed lightly to the corner of his mouth - something the rest of the table won't be able to see from their angle and will assume it's something a little more heated. like the gala which he'd successfully managed to tamp down on replaying in his head until right about now.
there's something both apologetic and seeking approval in his gaze when he pulls back, hearing the whine in pietro's voice before registering the words and sighing heavily even as he shifts off the seat and gestures for their waiter to bring another. he rolls his eyes lightly, sokovian slurring a little bit from the wine and pleasant feeling steve has enhanced bubbling up in his stomach.]
Be nice, Pietro - this is as much a surprise for me as it is for you. And I did tell you he was this pretty, now you see? Unbelievable, right?
[he listens to them exchange pleasantries, pietro putting up a stubborn front as steve graciously manages to diffuse it with flattery. zemo thanks the waiter for the extra seat, nudging it next to steve's and angling it so their legs brush when he crosses one over the other.]
All you are missing is little Wanda - Pietro's sister. Steve you must tell me, what kinds of pretty friends do you have? If we find one for bleskový he won't be so hard on us.