Note to self, Tony thinks as he catches sight of the Hulk’s smirk, the Hulk likes massages. Giving his hair a fond ruffle, he slips back into the space that’s been made for him and surveys the battlefield. The Hulk is like a small mountain of muscle, some of them look bigger than Tony’s head, and he’s glad there’s a tree at his back, because it might take bracing against hit to work some of the knots out of those things.

He promised silence, though, and instead of warning him about what he’s going to do, Tony just runs his hands over his shoulders, mapping out the way the muscles feel, before choosing a side and digging in. Unlike with someone smaller, he has to use both hands on the same side. But other than that, he does it just the same. Starting in against his neck, he works his way out, prodding at the knots, smoothing out the muscle and coaxing it to relax.

Through some sort of miracle, he manages to hold his tongue the entire time.