You won't be the only one. Tony dropped his elbow to the table, rubbing absently at his forehead. No, he probably wouldn't be - that much was true. It wasn't as though Rogers was trying to hide anything, obviously. Tony doubted he'd have known how to, even if he tried. People watched so closely, here, looking for signs of any little tidbit, from the innocuous to the deadly serious - and they were so fickle, so accustomed to gratitude and flattery that its absence provoked immediate hurt and surprise. (Not that he'd know anything about that.) The tide could turn on you in a heartbeat, and that was just the viewing public - that was just the ones who liked you.
But they weren't the only ones watching.
It was precisely the sort of thing he was afraid of. When the boat rocked, it rocked everyone aboard. He had absolutely no intention of getting wet.
"I don't know if he's looking to do anything, but that doesn't mean it won't happen. That's always great, huh? Accidental rabble-rousing. Can't beat that." He should distance himself from Rogers long before that blew up, he knew - and he couldn't really say he'd mind, either. After tonight, he doubted it would be much of a problem for either of them. "Well - don't worry." He pulled his cocktail over, lifted it - and just considered it for a moment, his mind elsewhere. (It wasn't very good, anyway, and he'd lost the urgent need to pound whatever was to hand, somewhere along the line.) "I won't have him over again. He's not exactly a sparkling conversationalist."