"That's me," Tony agreed, not quiet awkward so much as he was bemused, and he moved to sit up a little more properly, pulling the blankets with him even though he'd lucked out with pajama pants, and then rubbed at his eye with the palm of his hand. It was going to be one of those days where coffee was probably more important than blood.
"Do you know what you did before yesterday?" He asked, genuinely curious. It wasn't mean or cruel, but sometimes it was important to get the details in while he had time. See what was what. Or who was what. Whatever.
"You live here. In --" Well. He wasn't about to tell a child he shared a bed with him. That wasn't okay on any level and Tony was struck with just how terrible this whole previously just bewildering situation really was. "There's a room down the hall."