It was probably unfair of Tony to expect Steve to always be in the thick of things. Here he was, after all, skulking around the edges of the carnival thinking that was exactly where no one would be, because who else would need the space on a day like this? It was a celebration, and celebrating happened en masse-- or in pairs-- but not alone. Especially when so many people were celebrating you. But Tony didn't spend much time thinking about it; after accepting that that was, in fact, unmistakably Steve on the bench just like Cassie had said, himself already forgotten with the pencil in his hand and the stern frown that usually hardened his face just a phantom presence in the faint lines around his mouth-- after accepting that and obviously thinking about it too much, then thinking over that other thing, the unfair thing, Tony did something of a double take so that he might plot his escape route, taking a step back. He was skulking because he didn't really want to see anybody, and if he was skulking here then Steve must have thought this was a great space where he didn't have to see anybody either, and it was his day so Tony didn't have to bother him over a gift that wasn't going anywhere any time soon.
Unless there was another kind of alien attack, or dinosaurs, or just meteors, or all of the horrible human ways things can be made to go horribly wrong and be destroyed. That happened-- well, a lot. Tony was frankly surprised the day had gone so bloodlessly so far. Fuck, he probably jinxed it.
Still lingering on the path, Tony rolled his eyes at himself, his head rolling back, too, and his shoulders dropping with the weight of what he knew he was supposed to be doing. It won't be as bad as the dunk tank, to matter what happens. Composed, he started for the bench, did a quick, skipping step to make up for lost time, then wafted in his most crafted, careless way by Steve to take a leisurely sprawl on the seat beside him. One arm draped along the back of the bench. The other hand clutched a cloud of spun, coloured sugar in his lap. Jesus. “Got that for you,” Tony said, forcing the cotton candy off onto Steve and wiping his hand down the front of his shirt to be rid of all traces of it.