This is not helpful. This is very bad, Bruce. It would be better to let Tony go and hit on an alien version of the average ancient Roman citizen than to suggest that they go and hot tub together when he clearly isn’t thinking at all.

Let alone straight. Pub fully intended.

Amber colored eyes lift ever so slightly from the mouth he’s become drunkenly obsessed with just before he pulls his shirt over his head. The ordeal causes him to step quickly backward two paces before he catches himself with a laugh.

“Hang on. Hang on.. Let me figure my belt out.” Never mind that he’s not wearing one. This could take awhile.