There wasn't much of a chance of either burning or freckles, because that light was entirely synthetic and Tony was pretty sure the nearest star was 502 million miles away, give or take a few thousand. But he smiled at Steve with a breath of a laugh, and released the cards he held to his chest to send them sliding easily across the smooth gold and free his hand to brush along Steve's collar where he should have been freckled, knuckles pressing faintly to share the map of them that Tony knew for certain. "They're really not taking care of you on that backwards planet," he accused. "I'm sending you back with a note. You're supposed to have a regular dose of pool parties and basketball games, and the occasional mission to the Savage Land for a proper stranding, to keep the wheels greased. What, do they only let you out at night?"