Tony didn't pry about Steve's artwork, but he had to admit he was curious sometimes, and that his fingers itched to be nosy (because he was, he absolutely was -- there was always a little part of him that didn't like not knowing things, even if they had nothing to do with him). But for the moment he let it be.
"Lazy," he tsked, but didn't mean it, even remotely. The two of them simply worked on different things, most of the time. He moved a little closer, hand covering Steve's briefly at his waist before he rubbed at the back of his neck, like he was ironing some kinks out. "I really miss the convenience of online ordering," he lamented instead of really answering how his day was. Which meant that it'd been fine enough, he supposed, when he didn't have anything major to be bitching about.
Or, well, nothing he cared to bring up, quite yet. "Yours?" he asked, and his tone was a little careful because they'd been doing a great job of Not Talking About It and he didn't want to push his luck.