Tony wasn't telepathic, but he knew Warren, and he knew Warren well enough to know more or less what Warren was thinking. The look on the blond's face was communicative enough - Tony didn't know the whole story just from a look, but he was a smart man.
As Warren grumbled and no doubt paled a bit, Tony's lips pressed into more of a line. Given Warren's outburst abut his father, Tony could only surmise that it meant that Warren's father were somehow involved with this malfunction.
Gently, Tony worked to collect Warren up against himself, his hands urging Warren to cling, to lay his head down on Tony's shoulder, his hand resting across the warmth of Tony's chest plate. The position was comforting to Tony as well - he never mentioned it, but the sight of Warren's hand blotting out the constant glow from his plate was welcome in some way. Tony at least liked the way the light filtered between Warren's fingers.
"Damnit Warren..." he then said, though the two words together were more of a caress than a condemnation. "If you don't tell me what's got you so on edge, I can't help fix it, now can I?"