Sand slipping easily from the slick, gold underarmor where it stuck to Quicksilver's skin and collected in his hair, Tony pinned him to the ground, knee in his stomach, wrist twisted with his fingers still tangled into Quicksilver's hair, other hand splayed over his neck and jaw to wrench his head to the side and force his cheek to grind into the sand. "If I promise not to kill you, is it okay?" he growled through gritted teeth. Poor little terrorist, didn't realize there were consequences to his actions. No one should be allowed to hurt him, right? He was the one that got to do all of the hurting.
Lifting the pressure on Quicksilver's face, Tony jerked his head up by his hair to meet Tony's fist, and Tony hoped it felt like a building coming down on his head. He only stopped then, still pinning Quicksilver, just easing his hold on his hair a fraction while he flexed his aching fingers in the air, twinging from the punch, the underarmor punctured by a tooth. He took a breath, his expression not quite softening but shifting from a rage to frustration, troubled by Quicksilver's non-reaction, and then his own desire to just beat him when he knew he should be fighting him. That didn't make him much better than the terrorist. It was something he told himself he would learn to control-- he should have had under control by now. He would prove to Nick that he could fix this.