"No, I'm just telling you-- I know, but, before you--" Tony still managed to get out before Steve's instruction, then hid his mouth against his palm, peering over it at Steve with wide, very attentive and non-interruptive eyes. They didn't make any promises for his fingers tapping under the table, leg bouncing again and toes curling and flexing to touch the polished floors. There probably wasn't any convincing Steve anyway. He had been practicing, and he could be painfully stubborn well beyond the point of his own detriment over much smaller issues. Maybe that was part of the problem-- this was so much bigger to Tony than it should have been, than it was for Steve (and Tony had made peace with that, had known all along that Steve was greater than he would ever be and what Tony had to offer him was miniscule, a distraction at best), and Tony couldn't even communicate the gravity of it to Steve without, horrificially, admitting it. He could have bit his own hand.