He's more surprised by the sling than the gun, frankly. Eyes flicker from Tony to his shoulder and then back again, and it's as though now that he's been called out he's free to roll it uncomfortably in its socket, shoulderblade straining under the weight of it.

"That obvious, huh?" He murmurs, a little frown on his face. The thing is - it's lighter than the last, but it's still an arm-sized hunk of metal stuffed to the gills with tech to make it work. Temperature control to tensile strength, there are pieces that adjust balance and pieces that let him feel, and it pulls down on frayed nerve endings that were only really kept at a constant peak by the serum. Now that it's gone...

Peaches and the hot spring can only do so much.