Tony hated it, suddenly. Not Steve, obviously. Never Steve, because if he couldn't hate the man after everything he (they) had done, everything they'd both been through -- well. It wasn't going to happen. But he hated the expression that Steve had on just now, like he'd just imagined the worst possible thing he could and his brain had made an entire picture of it all, like it seemed prone to doing.
And Tony, well, Tony could at least begin guessing about what that thought had been. It wasn't as if it was difficult.
"Yeah," he said softly, because it was there, and not necessarily something they could ignore. But it was something they could put aside for now, because it wasn't happening just now. Hell, with the way time worked, it was possible it might never. There was no real telling. All he really knew was that he wanted that expression off of Steve's face. "Fuck me," he blurted, not an exclamation so much as a demand and an offer.