[ Steve knows he should leave. That coming here is as big a mistake as any he's made in the duration of his career, but something about Zemo pulls him in, draws him close as a magnet might. There's no denying the crackle of heat between them, the lure of fingers and lips on skin. He doesn't feel this with his clients, not like this, and when he's sure Zemo had all but leaned into the little kiss on his neck, Steve's vision flickers white-hot at the edges. ]
Mm, Bleskový - did I say that right? [ The lips against the shell of his ear make his skin prickle, and he glances toward Pietro when Zemo looks away. It gives him a chance to press his lips to the man's temple affectionately, the hand on his hip creeping up just enough to settle warmly against his waist. ]
There isn't any shame in being picky and trying new things. [ Pietro huffs, even looks a little vindicated as he points at Zemo when he speaks next: ]
Don't you see? At least he understands me. You don't deserve such a pretty, smart thing. Why don't you let me introduce him to the dance floor, no? I will be good, I promise. [ He waggles his eyebrows, then follows it close with a pout, because he knows the answer.
Steve instead laughs, a little surprised, and he takes his own drink and sips from it, watching the pair exchange taunts and barbs all the while he gently strokes the man's side, possessive and affectionate all at once. ] You don't have to buy me anything, I interrupted your night, doll. Were you thinking of dancing? I don't want to cut in...
[ Pietro sighs like a woman who has lost her first born and sags in his seat, but not before drinking deeply from his new glass. ]
Ah, Nohy, go on then. Leave me to my lonesome. I will cry and cry and cry...
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Mm, Bleskový - did I say that right? [ The lips against the shell of his ear make his skin prickle, and he glances toward Pietro when Zemo looks away. It gives him a chance to press his lips to the man's temple affectionately, the hand on his hip creeping up just enough to settle warmly against his waist. ]
There isn't any shame in being picky and trying new things. [ Pietro huffs, even looks a little vindicated as he points at Zemo when he speaks next: ]
Don't you see? At least he understands me. You don't deserve such a pretty, smart thing. Why don't you let me introduce him to the dance floor, no? I will be good, I promise. [ He waggles his eyebrows, then follows it close with a pout, because he knows the answer.
Steve instead laughs, a little surprised, and he takes his own drink and sips from it, watching the pair exchange taunts and barbs all the while he gently strokes the man's side, possessive and affectionate all at once. ] You don't have to buy me anything, I interrupted your night, doll. Were you thinking of dancing? I don't want to cut in...
[ Pietro sighs like a woman who has lost her first born and sags in his seat, but not before drinking deeply from his new glass. ]
Ah, Nohy, go on then. Leave me to my lonesome. I will cry and cry and cry...