It's probably the most baffling answer he could have offered, besides maybe we've been kidnapped by Mickey Mouse or we're all slaves to the lizard king. Hands still wrapped around his biceps, Tony stares at him for a long moment before his face screws up with incredulous confusion.

"What? What do you mean this isn't anything? This is clearly something. Come on, did someone knock you on the head with your crystal ball --"

He becomes aware, belatedly, that they're in the middle of a street and more than a few passers-by have paused to observe their little conversation. Tony lets Stephen go, runs a hand over his face and through his hair instead. Tamps down a little on the desperate panic that keeps wanting to claw into the pit of his gut, and fixes Stephen with a sharp look instead.

"You. Need to explain. Right now."