Howard smiles at the man in front of him. Seems nice enough, but the scales are a bit of a turn off. Still, he has other assets that are fascinating enough to him. He doesn't even get a chance to hear his answer, though, cut off by the sound of someone else replying behind him.

A voice that he also knows very well. He freezes, his shoulders tensing and he closes his eyes. It can't be. He has to be dreaming. No way is Steve Rogers right behind him, when he'd been searching for the man, never giving up. "My jaw is not that bad," he mumbles, but the snark wasn't there like it used to be.

Steve Rogers had thrown him off his game. Only two other people could do that to him. He opened his eyes, watching the other man walk away, cleary not falling for the Stark family charm. That didn't really matter to him, though. He had more important people to talk to.

When he turns around, he should be more surprised by what he sees. There is the Captain America, sitting at a table with a sketchpad like nothing had changed. Suddenly, Howard really wanted a drink.

"Now, how would you know what my jaw is like? I don't remember you sharing them with me? Was I drunk and I forgot about it? Because if that's the case, that would be a damn shame." He swallowed, trying to use snark to hide the surprise that is clearly still visible in his eyes. Striding over to Steve, he pulls out a chair and sits down, not trusting his legs to hold him up.

"Shouldn't you be a nice shade of blue, Captain?"