Bruce knows him too well. For once, that’s a good thing. It means, he hopes, that if he says something badly, because he always says everything badly when it’s important, Bruce won’t take offense to it. He fully intends to try not to do that, however; though rambling his way through it is definitely likely.

Arms settling around Bruce’s waist, tight enough so that he knows he isn’t going to let him go, Tony’s hands move over his back, kneading at it in an absently gentle way. Okay, from the beginning. He can do this.

“I wanted to talk to him about us. You and me being together. Make sure he was okay with it.” That almost sounds like he’s suggesting that Bruce has to ask the Hulk’s permission to do anything in his life and he hastens to clarify. “You know, if we were in the middle of something and he decided that your racing heartbeat meant you were in trouble, I didn’t want him showing up and wondering what the hell he was doing naked with his—That’s what I was doing. Before the tiger hunt. And I was clear that I meant sex, not, you know, basket weaving or whatever. And he’s okay with it. He told me I could have you, to take you and make you ‘better,’ which I’m assuming means we can play out some sexy doctor-nurse clinic fantasy now.”

Raising his eyebrows, he smiles and hopes to hell that was okay. Because the rest, that makes him sad and he doesn't know how Bruce is going to take hearing him talk about it.