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The lounge that Tony brings Stephen to isn’t exactly a hole in the wall, but neither is it a known quantity. Tony has never been here before, and he can’t help being nervous as he and Stephen take their seats, unrecognized by the staff thanks to one of Stephen’s spells.
“I’ve never been here before,” Stephen says curiously after they’re seated. He pulls a menu over to himself but doesn’t open it immediately, distracted by the sight of the band setting up.
“Me neither,” Tony admits, which brings Stephen’s attention back to him. “The reviews say the food is fine, but that’s not really why we’re here.”
Stephen’s gaze darts back to the musicians. “The music?”
“The music,” Tony affirms, gut twisting.
He’s going to like it, Soul promises.
Music is tricky, Tony says silently. If he didn’t believe Soul he wouldn’t be here, but music is tricky. Performance alone can make the difference between a good experience and a poor once, and there’s no predicting that, not really.
They chat about the latest Avengers shenanigans and their resemblance to Kamar-Taj apprentices and Stephen’s research and Tony’s latest R&D while they peruse the menus and order. Tony’s nerves slowly subside. It’s nice to be here with him even if the entertainment doesn’t work out. There’s a certain warmth, now, that lights Stephen’s eyes when he’s not trying to be professional and he looks at Tony. It’s on full display tonight, a physical reflection of the love that radiates from him.
The band starts just after their appetizers arrive. The conversation pauses—this is why Tony brought them here, after all—and Stephen gives them polite attention.
Tony can see the exact moment the attention goes from polite to captivated.
The first song is instrumental, and although Tony can see it serving its purpose—easing diners into the presence of live music before demanding more attention—for the tables around them, Stephen has already given them his full focus. Tony smiles and basks in the flow of emotions coming off of Stephen.
They’re halfway through their entrees by the time the band takes their first break and surfaces from his absorption. He looks across the table at Tony and laughs. “I’d apologize for being so distracted, but I think that was the plan.”
“Pretty much,” Tony says, smiling back.
“How did you find them?”
“I cheated a bit,” Tony admits. “I asked Soul for help.”
“Asking for help isn’t cheating,” Stephen says, then smiles wryly, “or so Wong tells me. I wouldn’t have thought Soul would know music.” There wasn’t much entertainment when you were trapped on Vormir for god knows how long.
“It doesn’t, but I figured, art, music… It’s possible to enjoy them intellectually, but their real power comes from the emotional connections they make, and that seemed like Soul’s purview.”
Stephen leaned forward, utensils still in his hands, dinner forgotten again. “Did you have to visit potential bands in person? No, you said you’d never been here before.”
“I said music makes connections, right?” Tony grins. “With Soul, those connections are literal. The search sure put my skill at reading those to the test, though.”
Stephen’s gaze softens. He lays down his utensils and reaches out to clasp Tony’s hand in his. “I appreciate the effort.”
A surge of warmth goes through Tony. His own affection, not Stephen’s. He smiles and strokes a thumb over the back of Stephen’s hand. “I’m glad it was successful.”