Hammer didn't wait nearly long enough to make that fucking observation. He had to suffer through a heavy stare as Tony accepted the glass and savoured a mouthful of biting scotch, carefully transferring the cigar to the same hand where he could hold them both steady. He didn't want to spill while he delivered an open hand slap across Hammer's insufferable fucking face. That probably wouldn't leave a mark.
Tony cleared his throat and gave the knot of his tie a tug to get some air and properly enjoy this drink, sinking easily back into his seat and flexing the sting out of his hand. That was a relief, Tony was feeling good, not about to see red.