Like I'd openly make out with you in the living room if someone else was here. ( wait. yes he would. scott pulls a face because, okay, tony has a point. ) Never mind--no-one's here. Yet? I kind of hope I don't have to use the 'yet'.

Oh, but you're here. Which totally counts for something, right?

( there's a brief moment where scott's hand draws back from where it's rested content on the back of tony's neck, his knuckle stroking the edge of his jaw. then he goes entirely just so he can use his thumb to tap the corner of tony's grin.

handsome. oh, god. scott is about to say something terrible. )

Anyone ever tell you how good it is to see you smiling? Like seeing the sun after ten months of winter, or something. I don't know. Poetry is hard.