It wasn't really about the cold -- it was true Tony didn't like it. He never been fond of snow and wind and that sort of perpetual wet that came with winter. There'd been a reason he'd relocated to Malibu for most of his life -- and that had been before the arc reactor. Before his nerve endings and circulation had gone to complete shit and his fingers were cold most all the time, even when the days were hot. Now? Now Tony hated the cold.
But he wasn't camping out in his workshop because of that. That was just Tony being Tony, because he was working on something, and he was into it and sometimes when that happened he just sort of forgot about everything else. Time was relative and work was real, meal breaks optional and forgotten. No matter how much he loved his little family, his nearly idyllic life with Steve, Gwen and Peter -- well. He was still Tony Stark.
He didn't startle when Steve showed up -- because he was hands deep in something and he didn't quite process it immediately. No, instead Steve sort of just blipped up on his radar slowly, like maybe he'd been there for a while before Tony noticed. He blinked, leaned back and tilted his head up as Steve pressed kisses to his neck. "Oh," he breathed out, genuinely pleased to see the other man. "Hi, Steve."