( A lovely return look reads something to the tune of I'm not stupid; he knows your dumb face and the dumb expressions you're making. What's more, he knows you know he knows, so it's really more about that.

Something about this stupid exchange brings on a gentle brush of fondness, an appeal that he diligently keeps out of his expression because god knows he can't be caught encouraging this behavior. Still, it's enough to rob the last of the irritation out of him, so when he studies the pockmarks it's more scrutinizing than annoyed.

He shakes his head. )

Nah, it just stings for a second. Not really like a rash, more like a thorn bush or somethin'.

( He shifts a little, angling their bodies closer so he can hold his forearm up on display. )

How are you not getting hit by-

( He stops abruptly, eyes flicking past Steve into the empty woods. It's a tune, he's faintly catching it on the breeze. Something familiar, just fading into audible range. Crooning, and... strangely, with the muffled and faintly scratchy sound of a record player. His brow knits up. )

You hearing music right now?