"Well, I know what you're doing to get excitement in your life." Tony said and stepped sideways to find his way to a chair. He took a seat and propped his chin in his hand, turning his mouth into his knuckles and looking at Banner for a moment in a kind of faraway way, like he was stuck somewhere between formulating what he wanted to say and admiring just how nice Bruce looked parked at the other end of his lab like he really belonged there.
There was actually quite a bit he wanted Bruce's opinion on. In part, just 'Harry Osborn' in the abstract was a subject that could probably keep them occupied for a few hours. He wasn't sure what to make of the poor little rich boy, with too much money, power and notoriety without the promise of a full life to waste it all and then wise up. He was fascinated by him, at least a little bit. Caught between being reminded of what he was like in his youth and desperate to make things better for Osborn, to make sure he didn't make the same mistakes and to guide him at least slightly away from harm.
But he also had to work out a way to save Harry's life, and that -- really -- was where Bruce should probably come in with his advice. Tony could navigate the pitfalls of youth, riches and people who want to take from you everything they don't feel you deserve -- but he could only get Harry so far on his knowledge of hereditary genetic retroviral diseases. Bruce though, if he didn't have an encyclopaedia of knowledge on the subject tucked away in that massive brain of his, he'd find out and if there was a way to really help Harry -- Banner could probably work it out.
"Harry Osborn. Norman Osborn's kid, he's sick with something called 'Retroviral Hyperplasia' -- I've been thinking about funding a group of geneticists to look into it, see if there's something we can do for him. I know -- I know OsCorp is biomedical, I know this should be their cup of tea, but we can't -- Harry can't trust the board right now, with everything that's going on and I want -- I don't know." He dropped lower on the desk, folding his arms and letting his chair roll backwards a few inches to stretch out. "Help. Advice. Probability that there's something to this and I'm not just wasting my time giving this kid false hope. Reassurance, maybe. Mostly just help."