It was unusual that anything could make Tony Stark stop talking, and for a moment Steve was astonished. But then the music washed over him like a wave and he understood, taking during this would be sacrilege just the same as talking during a hymn. Perhaps it wasn’t holy in the way that a hymn was holy, but it spoke to the soul in just the same way. People didn’t come to a club like this to talk or drink, they came to listen to the music.

Steve fell silent as well and fixed his eyes on the stage, eyes laser focused and body language leaning forward like a flower towards the sun, soaking up every last scrap of whatever the music could give him. The little worry lines beside his eyes disappeared and his muscles unwound. He didn’t know if hours or days had passed when the set finished, but he felt wrung out and sagged like a puppet with strings all cut.

“Wow... just, wow.”