'Supportive' was the last word Tony would have used to describe that move. From where Tony was standing, Steve reaching for him again was a hell of a lot closer to 'aggressive' and 'damn fucking stupid'. He wasn't a child when he was repairing the quinjets for the Avengers, or making sure their PR agents were well compensated for their emotional breakdowns, or dragging them from the morally hollow clutches of S.H.I.E.L.D., so he really wasn't going to let Cap get away with belittling him just because he fucking felt like it tonight.
Tony jerked his shoulder away, planting one foot steadily behind him and sucking in a sharp breath all to prepare in a fraction of a second for the concussive blast from the repulsor implanted in his chest. He wasn't really thinking of what kind of damage it could do, this close, without the refined fittings of the suit, without the preparatory charge or the HUD to tell him the power output. His chest just ached and he had to blink the spots from his vision when it was over, the light from the implant faded but steadily growing to full strength with each rapid heartbeat.