Tony was patient -- it was hard not to be with the way that his smaller self seemed so uncertain about everything. He'd remembered being like that once, too. Confident, but not all at the same time. Because he'd built engines and cars up from the ground by this age, but he'd been unable to find a way to get anyone to care and had worried about it endlessly.
So he let him play with the diagram and settled his chin on his palm, content to just watch for the moment. "Pretty sure," Tony said with a thoughtful sort of hum. "I suppose I was younger once, so looked that way. But it's still my face." And wasn't it funny that the smaller version of Tony was pretty much saying the exact same thing? He had to wonder, briefly, if now-small-Steve had met this boy yet. Now that might be something to worry over. "It's your face," he agreed. "That fact hasn't changed, Tony."