"...if you can't get in and out of clothes easily, the design is shit. This whole thing offends me. What I get is fixing this-" He mutters, reaching up to gently untangle man and limb and worn shirt, focused more on the joint and the rippling plating before he snorts under his breath. "Yeah this was not designed for civilian use. or even military use. It's chrome, for fuck's sake-"

How is any military operative meant to use it without being noticed? And the plating-

Tony mutters under his breath, veering in and out of mathematical equations for precisely how fucked the entire mechanism is, especially when he gets a better look at Bucky's shoulder. "If you tell me this thing is bolted to your ribs, I might sue. This is insane. Who designed this fucking thing?"