As far as Justin was concerned, if Tony was going to stay sober, Justin wasn't going to drink at all. He didn't want to be the demon on his shoulder. He didn't want Tony to kiss him and taste rum or something fruity and crave it, didn't want to have the smell of alcohol lingering in his breath after dinner, and he hadn't had any at all since their trip to Miami. He wasn't missing out on a vital part of life by abstaining. He didn't drink much in the first place, and if he was going to be with Tony, he didn't find the idea of never touching alcohol again depressing or burdensome. It was a choice he'd made on his own. If Tony wanted a few drinks with dinner, he wouldn't hold it against him, and he'd drink with him. But even that was a slippery slope, wasn't it?

The word cripple stuck out like a sore thumb, reminded him of pandas and Belize and something like an argument that wasn't really an argument. But he didn't let any hesitation show, and he certainly wasn't going to say anything about it.

"A sympathy kiss?" He watched him carefully for a moment before sliding his hand over his arm to take a hold of his neck, leaned forward, and kissed him gently on the forehead. "There, there. We'll get you a new toy to play with on the trip back to California, and everything will be better. How's that?"

Because Justin hadn't brushed his teeth, and although he didn't have issues when Tony hadn't...well, who wanted to suck an uncleaned tongue, right?