“Tony,” Steve begins. When he doesn’t continue, Tony turns to look at him, and freezes.
Steve is looking at him.
Steve is looking, very obviously, down at him.
“Tony, are you... did you build stilts into the suit?” Steve asks, honest confusion on his face. “You’re definitely taller wearing it.”
“What?!” Tony squeaks. He did not build stilts into his suit, he is a perfectly fine, acceptable height without stilts, thank you very much.
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Steve says, in a tone that sounds as if it’s meant to be soothing, “Dames used to wear heels all the time so they could look people in the eye easier. In fact--” confusion flits across Steve’s face, brief, “--Ms. Potts wears heels, so that’s still pretty normal. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Tony downright sputters with outrage.
“My suit does not have heels built into it! Those are, that’s space for, for the propulsion engines! There’s a massive amount of machinery packed in there, Cap, it’s state of the art, I am not short--”
His tirade is cut short when Steve lets out a quiet, genuine bout of laughter. Tony finds that, somehow, he can’t look away.