After everything’s that happened - the upheaval back home, the arrival here, remembering things he’s forgotten, sorting through his memories and trying to make sense of them, making a number of life-changing decisions – Tony’s forgotten about how he looks. What stands at the forefront of his mind is the absence of the reactor, as he tries to adjust to the weightlessness, the darkness, and the lack of barely there constant sensation he’s been feeling in his chest since the device had been implanted. His hair hasn’t crossed his mind.

“Really? You sure? I don’t need to grow it out?” Mostly, he’s kidding. Of all the things to be self-conscious about, his hair’s at the bottom of the list. But there’s a grain of sincerity there, buried beneath the grin and the light tone. If Bruce hates it, he won’t be adverse to going back to the way it was.

“I like yours too. Obviously. Though, little secret?” He drops his voice conspiratorially, as though this is the most important secret of all. “I didn’t really mind the new 'do either.”