The thing was, Tony could think of probably a dozen reasons why they shouldn't be friends. It just -- he thought maybe that sort of thing didn't matter. They'd been at odds before, they would be again. But that didn't necessarily mean they couldn't work with it. It was no fun being friends with people who agreed all the time (And if that was a necessity, well, Tony would probably have less friends now than he already did).
"No," he said after a beat. "We're good. You're right. Talking anyway. That's -- you know. Good." He moved again, then, until he was sitting on the couch again, and reached for the pizza he'd abandoned earlier. He couldn't handle anymore weight to the night, not really. "I liked that painting you sent. Really good."