It figures the damn cat likes Steve. It gives everyone else a hard time, but Steve? It’s like a goddamn kitten with a ball of yarn. Maybe an exaggeration, but Tony’s feeling disagreeable enough to make a big deal out of it in the privacy of his own mind. Meeting the look Steve gives him, he rolls his eyes and shrugs. Why isn’t the fierce wild animal attacking or growling or anything? He doesn’t fucking know.

For his part, said tiger simply closes his eyes as he’s scratched beneath his chin. It’s strange, new and different, but after it continues for a few seconds, he decides that he likes it. Enough, anyway, that he doesn’t feel the need to bite the two-legs that’s doing it.

More noises come from him, equally as incomprehensible as the Steve sound, and the tiger flicks an ear. After a few seconds, he turns his head, trying to angle for the scratching to hit the space along the ridge of his ear.