Anthony Edward Stark

Bruce curled his fingers in Tony's hair. It was fascinating, how expressive the man could be. His feelings were always written in every line of his face. Bruce had never understood how no one could read Tony like he could, because to him, Tony was an open book.

"I wasn't either."

Bruce let go of Tony's hand to wrap his arm around the other man's waist, pulling his body against his and tasting the salt on his mouth again. They fit together like puzzle pieces.

He didn't know how long this could last. Whether something would force them apart, or Bruce would have to go on the run, or Tony would get hurt or killed--but right now, right then, they had that moment in the ocean water.