That wasn't exactly how Tony expected that to end. Saying that wasn't how he expected it to begin, either, wasn't quite right as that would assume he expected a beginning at all. For a technological, sociological clairvoyant, the cards rarely seemed to read right anymore for Tony when it came to Steve. He even won battles he didn't know he was fighting.
Hovering the length of an unsure breath longer, not quite touching Steve's face anymore, blown black eyes struggling for focus, Tony tried to situate himself in this strange scene. Alarming news, for sure, but Tony just couldn't place how that and this were connected. They had successfully survived far more immediately distressing (or exciting? Jesus, was this even a celebration or panic pang?) news without swapping spit.
"That sure is neat, dude," Tony started, bitterly condescending with the unspoken 'but' louder than any of his voiced words, finally backing away with one hand raised to keep the rest of the scene frozen before anything else was sprung on him, the other passing over his mouth to press a knuckle under his lip. "Maybe we can talk about that when I'm not thinking about sucking your dick."
He pouted with a wave of his hand and shrug, turning on his heel to go. If Steve's whole aim was to totally avoid having whatever conversation that was making him so uncomfortable, the mission was a success, Captain.