Already trying to keep a watchful eye out for both their quarry and anything that might attack them, Tony isn’t paying much attention to the Hulk. He’s a tough, reliable presence at his side; one that makes him feel invincible and fearless, not one that requires constant monitoring. So he isn’t expecting the tug, nor is he braces for the strength behind it, and he finds himself yanked off-balance. There’s a wild, disoriented moment as he flails his arms, trying to regain it again before he topples over in the dirt like an idiot.

He doesn’t manage to do that. But instead of falling facedown onto the ground, he staggers and trips his way into the Hulk’s side, fetching up against him with a muted oof.

So much for grace, he thinks. And total silence, as he dissolves into a kind of quiet laughter that edges far too close to giggling for his masculinity’s comfort. Still laughing, he pats a hand against the Hulk’s side.

“Sorry, buddy. I have two left feet sometimes. I think it’s these shoes. My bad.”