He tips his cheek to better receive the kiss, allowing Steve to break away even as he trails after, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket. "Come on, don't track the snow through the house. I'll finish breakfast."

It's ridiculously domestic and he knows it, but dammit take off your shoes and shit man. He is pouring them coffee and getting out the organic maple syrup and generally keeping himself moving so he doesn't cling. He has missed Steve, so much, but he'd have plenty of time to show him. The way he figures it, New York got a week with him and now this one is all his.

"How are the Starks?" he asks, lip curling up a little without him looking up from his preparations.