Bruce stretched on his back on the bed, warmed from the sun spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Tony lay on his stomach, head turned to study Bruce. The sheets were twisted and wrinkled around them. Bruce took a deep breath and the world was reduced to a place that was just the scent of them, their skin, sweat, and sex, mixing and mingling into something new and wondrous. Bruce rolled onto his side to face Tony and reached an arm out to place a hand on the small of his back. "I love you, you know."

Tony smiled that smile that Bruce knew was only for him. That smile that said he was calm yet on fire all at once. It was very much the same smile he had given Bruce when they had first talked, back in the lab on the helicarrier, less than a month but more than a lifetime ago. "I love you too."

He pulled Tony close against his body, tucking his lover's head under his chin. He felt the quiet thrum of the arc reactor against his chest. No other words needed to be said.

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Sonnet XVII
Pablo Neruda