[ He laughs a little at Tony's joke. Okay, okay, he'll walk. ]
I'm sure they will. But you'll bring FRIDAY, just in case. And I'll have the shield.
[ He's sure that Tony's hair has been brushed enough for one night, but he just can't seem to stop himself from continuing to do so, softly raking his fingers through, marveling at how beautiful he is, sick or not. And that's not even on the list of things that matter to Steve about him. ]
[It's a nice feeling. Soothing. Relaxing. Makes him feel cared for. Steve's really good at that- has been, for a long time, despite their little hiccup. Even during it, that one time. He'd tried, anyway, and Tony, coming off no sleep, too much work, and too much whiskey, had rejected the idea of it. Foolish. As always.
Even being sick, he really wouldn't trade this for anything. There's just something comforting about resting his head in Steve's lap, letting him take care of him. For all that he did to try and stop it. His eyes close as he very obviously basks in Steve's attention.]
If you want the venue to look good, I don't think I should be involved to that degree. Don't we have a wedding planner? Someone should be sending you samples. [But even as he says this it sounds so hands-off that it makes him feel bad.] What kind of flowers do you want? White and blue? Maybe some red roses. If that's not going to give everyone the impression it's an all-American wedding. [But those are their colors, as fortunate or unfortunate as that is.]
I think we could do all white, wrapped in gold. Gold will look good at the Met.
And we do have a wedding planner. We've got several. But you know me.
[ He likes to be in charge, he likes to learn about all these things, likes to pitch in to lighten everybody's workload and to feel like he made their wedding all theirs. ]
[Tony is also very aware he's not the best person to come for anything design-wise. For a space, anyway. Something that's pleasing to everyone else. And not just... whatever he wants to do. So if Steve says white and gold, white and gold it shall be.]
I do know you. That's why I know it'll be gorgeous. Yet I suspect the only thing I'm gonna wanna look at all night is you.
[Steve's mind is beautiful, even more so the artistic endeavors that come from it. Tony's sure their wedding is going to be the most gorgeous event that anyone's ever witnessed or had the pleasure to attend. Once in a lifetime event. Which is exactly what it should be. He only needs to, only plans to, get married to Steve once.
However. At the mention of nausea, Tony hooks his arm right back over his eyes with a shake of his head.]
Everything's good right here. Don't move. I'm fine laying like this. [What he really means is that he doesn't want to get up and try to eat something even if he knows he probably should make an attempt. But saying all that feels like a good way to get Steve to try and coax him to do the thing and he does not want to.]
Fine. I can have someone else bring something up. And try feeding you.
[ He wouldn't though, because that seems like an unnecessary invasion of privacy to let someone else see Tony like this when he barely wants Steve to see him. ]
Well, I guess we could have red and gold and white. Two colors for me, two colors for you.
[ Blue flowers always seemed to look a little out of place anyway. ]
And the flowers aren't for us to look at, it's for the guests. I'm probably not even going to want to look through the museum. But, that doesn't mean I don't love or appreciate the venue.
Just that of all these things, there's only one important one.
I'm in lockdown. No one else in or out except you.
[He's not, really. Although he's not really sure what's wrong with him, if it's contagious or not. Even if he is singing a tune about it being a stomach bug. He wouldn't want to chance getting anyone else sick. Which is also a convenient cover to be left alone.
Except that doesn't apply to Steve. Luckily the company's not bad, anyway.]
Oh... really? I guess we really could've had it in the backyard, then, if you won't even sneak off with me to pretend to look at paintings. [Despite his hidden eyes, he's smiling softly. The only reason he picked it- or more honestly offered it as an option- was because of the way Steve had talked about it. Reminisced. Stars-in-his-eyes kind of thing. And those are precious moments Tony takes to heart.]
We could've. But I like the idea of sneaking off to dance with you in front of Monet's water lilies. There's so many of them, it's almost like being outside.
[ And, of course, there's all the glitz and glam. Steve never thought he'd have such a huge and well-celebrated wedding, because growing up he doubted if he could even get married at all.
And yet here he was, about to marry the love of his life, with the entire world watching and anticipating their nuptials. ]
Tony. I'm going to order something to be brought up here, whether you like it or not - so tell me what you want to eat or what smells won't make you sick.
[ Because he doesn't think that it's okay for Tony to not have eaten anything, but he'll pretend to be hungry just because he knows Tony would order a full restaurant if Steve said he was feeling peckish. ]
Think the music will carry that far? Or will we just not care by that point?
[It could go either way. Really. Tony's not sure how he'll feel on the day of. He thinks the chances that he's lost in an overly-romantic daze will be extremely high. The chance that anyone will even be able to hold his attention is very slim. He'll have eyes for only Steve the whole night, in every sense of the idea.
But. However true that may be and however much they love each other, great though that is, that doesn't quite stop him from being a little bit of a brat right now.]
Order whatever you want- for you. I don't need anything. I'm- I'll survive. I'm fine. Fever's going down, right? I'm okay.
[ Tony's incorrigible, but Steve's just as stubborn. ]
And I think it'll be more romantic if it's just far-off, barely carrying into the room.
[ Like they'd just happened to stop by a concert hall with the music bleeding into the streets, and wanted to dance. Of course, Tony would probably get them into the concert hall if Steve wanted, but that's not the romantic part of the fantasy. ]
Order away. Whatever you're getting just get two of. ...or a little less than. Like one and a quarter.
[Because Steve's version of ordering food is fit for army consumption and Tony's not really in the mood to eat anything at all. Which is only a very small step below where he usually is.
He breathes out a long, slow breath, arm shifting down to rest over his chest, though his eyes remain closed. Picturing the two of them, slowly box-stepping their way, or more likely, just swaying in the room with all the Monets. Music in the hall only barely drifting in.
It is a very beautiful picture.]
I like it. We'll have to put out the memo that that room is off limits once we're out and about. [Joking, slightly. Surely they wouldn't bar their guests from the other feature attraction aside the two of them being wed. But. He also doesn't want anyone around. He just wants Steve and their night for himself. Even when they literally can't have that since they're having a grand wedding.
Softly, as he drifts a little to this nice little picture in his head, he finally relents.]
Chicken noodle soup. I think I can handle that. Supposed to make you better, right? Maybe a buttered roll. [To soak up everything in his stomach. Though that's more a hangover cure than a sickness thing but at this point it's mostly the same.]
[ Steve, who always orders about six things, is probably just going to order a full smorgasbord and worry about the logistics later. They always do that though, with Tony picking at the food that Steve orders and Steve eating the rest. He doesn't see why today would be different.
But then Tony actually requests a food. A real food. And it makes Steve feel better, instantly. He hadn't thought it would, to such an extent. ]
Chicken soup, buttered roll. Maybe some fruit.
[ He's under the distinct impression that Tony can always tuck away some vitamin c, but Steve adds: ]
--No melon.
[ At least, not three pounds of melon. ]
And most fluids are supposed to be good for you, right now. Not coffee, so don't ask.
[Fruit just always seems to be one of the things he grabs. Easily walked around with or while he's working. Better when it's dried, freeze-dried, or cut up into little pieces. Portable. But he can't help the way he grins, worn out though it is, when Steve follows up.]
Are we cutting melon out forever because of the gift basket thing?
[And just like that despite his minor lift in good mood, Steve laying down the law gets a low noise of upset out of him. Something very similar to a whine.]
Coffee will help. Put some pep in my step. I think that'd help everyone. Don't you wanna see me up and around?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I'm sure they will. But you'll bring FRIDAY, just in case. And I'll have the shield.
[ He's sure that Tony's hair has been brushed enough for one night, but he just can't seem to stop himself from continuing to do so, softly raking his fingers through, marveling at how beautiful he is, sick or not. And that's not even on the list of things that matter to Steve about him. ]
Wanna help me pick flowers?
no subject
Even being sick, he really wouldn't trade this for anything. There's just something comforting about resting his head in Steve's lap, letting him take care of him. For all that he did to try and stop it. His eyes close as he very obviously basks in Steve's attention.]
If you want the venue to look good, I don't think I should be involved to that degree. Don't we have a wedding planner? Someone should be sending you samples. [But even as he says this it sounds so hands-off that it makes him feel bad.] What kind of flowers do you want? White and blue? Maybe some red roses. If that's not going to give everyone the impression it's an all-American wedding. [But those are their colors, as fortunate or unfortunate as that is.]
no subject
And we do have a wedding planner. We've got several. But you know me.
[ He likes to be in charge, he likes to learn about all these things, likes to pitch in to lighten everybody's workload and to feel like he made their wedding all theirs. ]
How are you feeling? Less nauseated, you think?
no subject
[Tony is also very aware he's not the best person to come for anything design-wise. For a space, anyway. Something that's pleasing to everyone else. And not just... whatever he wants to do. So if Steve says white and gold, white and gold it shall be.]
I do know you. That's why I know it'll be gorgeous. Yet I suspect the only thing I'm gonna wanna look at all night is you.
[Steve's mind is beautiful, even more so the artistic endeavors that come from it. Tony's sure their wedding is going to be the most gorgeous event that anyone's ever witnessed or had the pleasure to attend. Once in a lifetime event. Which is exactly what it should be. He only needs to, only plans to, get married to Steve once.
However. At the mention of nausea, Tony hooks his arm right back over his eyes with a shake of his head.]
Everything's good right here. Don't move. I'm fine laying like this. [What he really means is that he doesn't want to get up and try to eat something even if he knows he probably should make an attempt. But saying all that feels like a good way to get Steve to try and coax him to do the thing and he does not want to.]
no subject
[ He wouldn't though, because that seems like an unnecessary invasion of privacy to let someone else see Tony like this when he barely wants Steve to see him. ]
Well, I guess we could have red and gold and white. Two colors for me, two colors for you.
[ Blue flowers always seemed to look a little out of place anyway. ]
And the flowers aren't for us to look at, it's for the guests. I'm probably not even going to want to look through the museum. But, that doesn't mean I don't love or appreciate the venue.
Just that of all these things, there's only one important one.
no subject
[He's not, really. Although he's not really sure what's wrong with him, if it's contagious or not. Even if he is singing a tune about it being a stomach bug. He wouldn't want to chance getting anyone else sick. Which is also a convenient cover to be left alone.
Except that doesn't apply to Steve. Luckily the company's not bad, anyway.]
Oh... really? I guess we really could've had it in the backyard, then, if you won't even sneak off with me to pretend to look at paintings. [Despite his hidden eyes, he's smiling softly. The only reason he picked it- or more honestly offered it as an option- was because of the way Steve had talked about it. Reminisced. Stars-in-his-eyes kind of thing. And those are precious moments Tony takes to heart.]
no subject
[ And, of course, there's all the glitz and glam. Steve never thought he'd have such a huge and well-celebrated wedding, because growing up he doubted if he could even get married at all.
And yet here he was, about to marry the love of his life, with the entire world watching and anticipating their nuptials. ]
Tony. I'm going to order something to be brought up here, whether you like it or not - so tell me what you want to eat or what smells won't make you sick.
[ Because he doesn't think that it's okay for Tony to not have eaten anything, but he'll pretend to be hungry just because he knows Tony would order a full restaurant if Steve said he was feeling peckish. ]
no subject
[It could go either way. Really. Tony's not sure how he'll feel on the day of. He thinks the chances that he's lost in an overly-romantic daze will be extremely high. The chance that anyone will even be able to hold his attention is very slim. He'll have eyes for only Steve the whole night, in every sense of the idea.
But. However true that may be and however much they love each other, great though that is, that doesn't quite stop him from being a little bit of a brat right now.]
Order whatever you want- for you. I don't need anything. I'm- I'll survive. I'm fine. Fever's going down, right? I'm okay.
no subject
[ Tony's incorrigible, but Steve's just as stubborn. ]
And I think it'll be more romantic if it's just far-off, barely carrying into the room.
[ Like they'd just happened to stop by a concert hall with the music bleeding into the streets, and wanted to dance. Of course, Tony would probably get them into the concert hall if Steve wanted, but that's not the romantic part of the fantasy. ]
no subject
[Because Steve's version of ordering food is fit for army consumption and Tony's not really in the mood to eat anything at all. Which is only a very small step below where he usually is.
He breathes out a long, slow breath, arm shifting down to rest over his chest, though his eyes remain closed. Picturing the two of them, slowly box-stepping their way, or more likely, just swaying in the room with all the Monets. Music in the hall only barely drifting in.
It is a very beautiful picture.]
I like it. We'll have to put out the memo that that room is off limits once we're out and about. [Joking, slightly. Surely they wouldn't bar their guests from the other feature attraction aside the two of them being wed. But. He also doesn't want anyone around. He just wants Steve and their night for himself. Even when they literally can't have that since they're having a grand wedding.
Softly, as he drifts a little to this nice little picture in his head, he finally relents.]
Chicken noodle soup. I think I can handle that. Supposed to make you better, right? Maybe a buttered roll. [To soak up everything in his stomach. Though that's more a hangover cure than a sickness thing but at this point it's mostly the same.]
no subject
But then Tony actually requests a food. A real food. And it makes Steve feel better, instantly. He hadn't thought it would, to such an extent. ]
Chicken soup, buttered roll. Maybe some fruit.
[ He's under the distinct impression that Tony can always tuck away some vitamin c, but Steve adds: ]
--No melon.
[ At least, not three pounds of melon. ]
And most fluids are supposed to be good for you, right now. Not coffee, so don't ask.
no subject
Are we cutting melon out forever because of the gift basket thing?
[And just like that despite his minor lift in good mood, Steve laying down the law gets a low noise of upset out of him. Something very similar to a whine.]
Coffee will help. Put some pep in my step. I think that'd help everyone. Don't you wanna see me up and around?
no subject
[ Tony up and about doesn't mean that he's gotten better, after all. ]
And you're cutting out melons. Life's too short, you should eat only the fruits you want to eat. You like blueberries. I'll get you blueberries.
[ He'll also supreme some citrus for Tony, just because preparing fruit for someone is a love language that Steve speaks. ]