That had gone incredibly smoothly-- Tony didn't even have to accuse Fury of some horrible oversight once. But then, they'd already had this conversation. He really was expecting Fury to turn around and change his mind once in the comfort of his own home, though. Cushy home. It was difficult to stay inconspicuous through their deal and keep still, but Tony did manage to limit himself to the couch-- even if it did mean a lot of craning around and scooting up to the edge of his seat and suddenly snatching things from the coffee table that Fury probably thought important enough not to be manipulated the way Tony's hands impulsively did.
He was still creasing a fold on some origami, magnified nanostructure when he was actively drawn back into the conversation, and he happily dropped it for Fury to figure out. "What, when I have my car you don't need me and now I have to pay for a cab?" he asked, dramatically offended, eyebrows knit and arms dropped heavily in exasperation. "I thought we could just have a sleep over. Nick's mom bakes the best cookies."