"Not like that," he says, shrugging. The time bombs in his head he's concerned about are more subtle and more destructive than what Tony's talking about. He's worried that he's damaged, broken somehow, and will never be able to fully let his guard down.

"You've noticed one of them, haven't you? Why I barely let you touch my neck, even though I know you won't hurt me."

Or he likes to think Tony won't hurt him, anyway.

He hesitates before taking the fruit, and scowls at it as though it's done him some great personal wrong. "I'm worried that I might have more problems I don't even know about yet, and they could pop up and I could do something awful."