Anthony Edward Stark

Tony should be talking to an actual therapist, but it's not too surprising that he isn't. He's stubborn, he's ridiculous, and he doesn't like adding people to the small circle of friends with whom he's willing to be vulnerable.

And these days that circle is probably a literal straight line with two points: Bruce and Tony.

He eyes the couch, looks from it to Tony, then chooses not to say the obvious.

"A real meal as long as there's enough real food in the kitchen to make it happen." Wait a minute. If the kitchen's stocked with Tony in mind, that isn't going to do. "Hang on. FRIDAY, put in a grocery order, please."

He rattles off a list of ingredients for a dish that his landlady in Calcutta taught him. Indian comfort food is as much for himself as for Tony.