For a long, speechless suspension, Tony successively became hyper-aware of all of the weak, soft bits that betrayed him without the protection of his armor; his heart thumping in his ears like the sound filled the room; his dry mouth and his tongue on his lips after he tried to smile like he got the joke and realized he didn't get it at all; his eyes already too wet and wide and he had to blink quickly then squint and try to see this some other way but it wasn't working. Tony's head dropped, too, then, not finding the answers he wanted in Steve's posture or in his face, and his fingers curled then fluttered and didn't quite come together over his stomach, longing for some purpose.
Steve could give his reasons but Tony couldn't help but feel, knew, that this wouldn't have been happening if he hadn't come back. If he at least hadn't expected to be granted leadership, and if he hadn't abused that expectation. Abused Steve. They had a job to do, whether they liked the terms or not, and Steve obviously didn't trust Tony to be able to handle and take control of it the way an Avenger should, not enough to stand beside him. So with his wet eyes and that lump in his throat Tony nodded, fingers finally threading and pressing together as a ball against his chest until he could press back with a deep breath.
"It's been a long time to just leave, Captain," was the only protest he managed when he raised his head, mouth and jaw tight with forced control, pushing his chest out to try to project his boardroom confidence. Detached. It didn't quite work, not in Tony's head or on his tongue where he just wanted to say Steve. He just wanted to cry and apologize and admit I need you. Don't do this now. Just wait, one more chance. And I never deserved you.