Random affection? Bodily contact with other people has always been a struggle for Tony, but in this case...No, it's still a struggle. Still, Tony can manage a hand casually resting on Steve's knee while he drinks his morning coffee, his other hand scrolling through his phone between sips of the bitter, life-giving beverage. This was...okay. He was 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨, at least.
He’s not ‘touch-starved,’ no matter what anyone else seems to think. Isn’t that a concept that people acknowledge and respect in this day and age? The whole ‘content in oneself’ idea? Then again, being in the public eye as he is means there are a multitude of opinions out there floating around about him, and his personal life – even down to trivial details like what he has for breakfast.
The issue of touch is one that’s addressed unfortunately often. Why the world at large is so interested in whether or not he derives pleasure from physical intimacy is beyond his understanding, but it’s one of those things (like most things about the present he’s living in now) that he’s learned to overlook, for his own sanity.
It’s no one’s business, after all, if his leg jerks unconsciously beneath Tony’s hand; no one outside of this room should be privy to the fact that he ducks his head to hide a little smile after peering curiously in the genius’ direction to confirm his nonchalance to the random gesture of casual affection.
And if he lays a hand over top of the tanned one resting on his knee, well…That’s just between the two of them.