He inhales sharply and tries to carefully move out of the way, but still ends up sort of flattened against the bar. He doesn't fight it, but he certainly glances back at Steve with a half-confused, half-pleading look. "How?" he asks weakly, careful not to sound argumentative but like he genuinely needs an explanation. "Just look at me."

He could literally wear a sign that says Please walk over me and he wouldn't look any less pathetic, probably.

The demonic bartender doesn't seem too concerned with the threat; she just shrugs and turns away to mix up the drink, looking mighty unimpressed. A minute later she puts down a tall glass of emerald-green drink with some limes and kiwi in it, and of course a little pink umbrella at the top, because she can.