"What?" Steve sounds both irritated and resigned. "You're giving me a headache, Stark. Why are you so irritating?"

Attractive, but annoying. Okay, maybe the presence of the Mind Stone is fraying some of his already-frail ability to be tactful. "You talk too goddamn much."

But, hey, if minor insults are all the stone inspires in him at the moment, that's probably for the best for all concerned. "Look. I get what you're saying about your plan; I just don't agree with it. We divert Thanos from this world for how long? A few years? Great. How many other planets does he destroy in the meantime? You're giving me stall tactics; I want to hear you have an endgame."

His gaze is sharp, out of the corner of his eyes, borderline incandescent. He doesn't know which Tony to trust right now; maybe neither. He definitely doesn't trust his older self. He asked for precisely none of this bullshit, and he's been out of the ice for a little over a month. That, and he hates airplanes. Seriously, just fuck airplanes in general.

"Do you have an endgame, Stark? If Thanos is this dangerous, he needs to be taken on and taken down."