There was no obvious reaction from Iron Man; he dropped his head and turned to his tray, heaped now with stained cotton, to find a clean bandage and wipe his gauntlets clean. It must have been more surreal to see Iron Man lay his hand on Steve's stomach and feel nothing, but nor did Tony. He was used to it. It was much worse, he could tell Steve, to have to feel everything all the time.
"It can't be mine," he noted thoughtfully, leaning with his other hand braced on the table, "it's been way too fucking long." It was supposed to be an apology, but Tony knew it didn't sound right as it came out, as usual, and pressed his lips together. Iron Man's head lolled to the side, exhausted by his own voice, and he turned back to his bandages.