Bruce wouldn't accept 'lover' not because it isn't true, but because it is; that's what they are, or could be, and lover implies repetition, a permanence that Bruce is afraid to offer if he can't follow through. But just because he isn't offering it or openly accepting it doesn't mean he's successfully resisting, and Tony's confession robs him of even his cynical determination. Bruce might have to make sure he doesn't throw himself too hard into this, but by agreeing, by putting them this close, he's already giving himself to Tony.

He's only partially prepared for Tony to start undressing him, but it's strangely okay. Like, he still needs to worry about his heart rate, but he isn't afraid anymore; he's accepted this, and so when there are fingernails at his back, and his lips are red and sore from being kissed, he's okay. The calm he's putting off is definitely still firmly in place, though it's less a conscious decision and more a natural extension of being comfortable.

His breathing is hard and uneven as he tries to help Tony get him out of his pants, and he even laughs a little, softly, though that's gone almost immediately when Tony starts to touch him. He sucks in a long, shaky breath, and then tangles his hand in Tony's hair so he can pull him down. He sets their foreheads together, noses touching, but he doesn't kiss him; instead, he holds them still, so the focus zeroes in on the way their breathing hitches as they touch each other. Bruce's hand slows, his steady strokes turning into exploration, too.

"Tony," he whispers, voice almost breaking, and he curls his hand against he back of his neck, holding him tighter, closer. "You have me, too."