It was muscle memory for Tony to look scandalized by the idea of placing any importance in Coulson's general well-being, so he had to take that as a missed opportunity to rile him up, instead making a show of fighting away the grimace like he was trying his very best to look neutral and sociable. "Alright," he allowed, pulling out his phone, suddenly looking very studious as though he was about to do some important number crunching for one of Coulson's hysterically useless science divisions, "how many numbers have you got so far? And how many of those do you want? And, by percentage, how likely are you to be reaping those rewards by the end of the night?" It was possible Tony Stark could mathematically get Coulson laid, probably.