Tony got that. It was both easier and safer emotionally, sometimes, to be solitary. To not have to worry about people, because super-heroing was a rough gig that no one got out of without some scars and losses. And more than that, he got it because he'd grown up without people. It'd just been him and his distant parents and a metric shit ton of money that bought plenty of everything beside happiness. He hadn't had friends, he certainly hadn't had peers and the only person he'd been able to call his own until he was in his late teens was his butler and the man who'd eventually tried murdering him.
Branching out had been difficult. Because by the time he'd pal-ed up with Rhodey and then eventually Pepper, he'd become caustic and made himself hard to like (but they had somehow anyway). And when the Avengers had come around, he hadn't been looking to belong to anything other than what he'd already made himself.
Christ, so much had changed in the last decade. Sometimes it was dizzying if Tony really stopped to think about it. But -- well. He liked himself better now, in some ways. Even in this weird place, he had people he cared about it and it made a world of difference.
Since Gwen agreed, they headed toward the trail -- Tony'd purchased an unhealthy amount of pokeballs when he'd been here last with the Doctor, because frankly he was going to crack the science behind them, but it'd help plenty today too.
It might have been a huge deal. Tony focused on his coffee for a second or two too long before glancing back at her. "Really," he said. "Definitely enough for another Spider. So long as it's you." He liked Alpha Peter a lot, but he wasn't inviting him to live with him. Nor the other Peter, who Tony had very little to do with.