Tony did grin then, but hid it against his fist with his arm bent back on the bench. He shouldn't laugh at Steve's expense on his birthday. It was hard to imagine him being a big stud in any era, though. A kiss on the hand was the third date, wasn't it? He hoped there was video, though, and at least one hundred year old batty describing their night of passion in horrible, toothless detail as security encouraged her away. He would have to get an intern to go through all of the security footage.
“You want me to tell Jess and Wanda that for you?” he offered, stone serious when he took his hand from his face to point vaguely into the crowd of the carnival for the two girls. “I'm sure they could handle cupcakes-- much smaller scale,” he continued, mischief just glimmering in his eyes, then his act broke as something terrible occurred to him with a snap. “Imagine all of that density in one little cupcake,” he murmured, and pressed his fingers to his lips again. He had no hope they would get any better in a year. They were destined to order catering for the rest of their lives. Maybe Tony would personally hire a chef for each of them for a year on their next birthdays. That would spare them all the indignity, for a while.