Anthony Edward Stark

It’s not regret. It’s the polar opposite of regret. The trouble with explosion induced sobriety and sex with aliens is that he’s second guessing himself and his reasons for wanting what he does now. Still. The whole thing is more confusing to him than the ability to make alcohol as potent as Hulk Juice and hot tubs as amazing as the ones here.

Tony’s back to watching Bruce, hand slipped from his shoulder to rest in his pocket with the other.

“So what are you critiquing now? Vegetables that look like dicks? Because that one is pretty convincing for someone suffering from syphillus. I’d guess.” He gestures briefly with his eyebrows to indicate that he might have once had to look up what such a thing might look like.