Tony had heard amazing in its many variations since probably before he'd ever met Jarvis- brief though that encounter had been, both tagging along behind their fathers and neither entirely by choice. It was only a word, but Jarvis had been able to speak it, to mean it with every fiber of his being, and hopefully that counted for something. No one could really expect eloquence of a man who hadn't been able to speak at all for more than a decade, could they?
No matter. Tony knew what he meant, which had always been a little surprising for a man so keen to ignore cues from everyone else. Either he was looking for them from Jarvis, or he enjoyed the puzzle of understanding someone with no words. Everything was gestures and pointed looks, a slight tilt of the head to mean a dozen different things depending on the day. This wasn't solving the puzzle. It was adding a new dimension, and Jarvis almost wanted to take his new prize away to play with it. To type in blocks of text just to hear them reproduced in a way that he could call his... with a dash of Tony.
The weight of the arm thrown over his shoulders, the warmth and ease of the gesture, it made his smile edge a little further away from caution. No one touched the help, not unless it was for correction. Tony was, as always, a different story and he did poke and touch and casually disregard boundaries, and here it only made Jarvis make a rusty, breathy sound that wasn't quite a laugh (but close enough for someone who was rediscovering sound as a means of communication at all). "You're terrible at growing things and I'm not much better," he pointed out, allowing himself to be steered toward a work table and its assorted clutter. "And a lemon tree might be a little on the nose, all things considered."
Symbolism was tricky stuff. Jarvis shook his head and, after a tiny hesitation, set the device down on the tabletop. Tony wanted to do something. What, he wasn't sure, but Jarvis knew how to read this particular cue more than well enough.