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Tony basked in the warm sunlight streaming in from the window of his bedroom. He had never been more grateful for Stephen’s insistence he switched the heavy comforter for these light, airy sheets instead. There was the lightest sheen of sweat coating his body he knew, but he didn’t bother shifting, not only would it mean giving up the sun, it would mean giving up the solid body next to him, emanating his own waves of heat.
Tony nuzzled against the warm skin of Stephen’s chest, inhaling the slightly musky tang of sweat and the left-over aroma of sex from last night. His lover didn’t move, and Tony grinned to himself, forever smug at his ability to turn the man into a pliant, exhausted, body. He wouldn’t wake any time soon.
Slowly, weary of the sunlight, he peeled back his eyes and blinked harshly in the brightness invading his room. Instinctively he buried his face back in Stephen’s chest, tempted to simply close his eyes and drift off to sleep once more. He didn’t.
He let his eyes adjust bit by bit until he was no longer squinting and finally was able to look at his lover. Reluctantly, Tony shifted back just enough to put his head back on his own pillow, but he left his hand still resting on his chest, gently stroking through the dusting of chest hair.
Tony breathed in deeply and felt a bone deep satisfaction at the sight before him. Stephen’s face was turned slightly away from him but he could still see the relaxed, peaceful expression there, he let his gaze wander to his own hand, where he tracked the evidence of last night, the smattering of marks covering the pale skin of his chest, shoulders and arms, the marks he sucked, and bit there, his mind replaying the purely intoxicating sounds Stephen had made of low moans and lovely gasps.
Still, it wasn’t enough to hold his attention for long. See, Tony had this fixation. To be fair, everything about Stephen drew him in like a moth to a flame…but his throat, that was something completely different. Tony’s eyes locked onto the pale column of skin, long and graceful and so god damn perfect on the man before him. It was the only part of Stephen that didn’t bare a single one of his marks, the only flesh Tony couldn’t bring himself to dirty or treat as anything but fragile.
He didn’t know where it came from, he had never had such a specific fascination with any of his partners before, had never found his gaze constantly drawn to something that by all rights should be considered plain. He did know, however, when it began, could remember with startling clarity the moment that unassuming piece of anatomy had claimed Tony whole-heartedly.
Stephen had come home after three long days away traversing a multitude of dimensions. He should have been relieved, should have been pulling his lover into his arms and smothering the man with his trademark mix of disapproval and affection.
It hadn’t happened, because the moment Stephen stepped through his portal, Tony’s eyes had been missile focused on the ugly array of bruising circling the usually pristine, pale skin of his throat. It had clearly happened soon after his departure because it was already shaded in a sickening array of blues, yellows, and purples.
Stephen had grimaced and apologized as if it was his fault when Tony continued to stare in absolute horror at the sight. He had been filled to bursting with this dreaded sense of wrong, of violation on behalf of Stephen that he just couldn’t quite explain. When he had approached quietly and carefully, tenderly prodded at the skin, he was met with Stephen tilting his head back and to the side indulgently while he examined him and fuck.
The day was spent with Tony doting upon his bemused lover, keeping him confined to the bed or couch, rubbing soothing oils into the bruises and preparing tea with a hearty helping of honey. He watched over the next couple of weeks as the bruises faded into memory and yet…his fixation remained.
Tony found himself lightly resting his hand on the junction of Stephen’s throat and shoulder, stroking at the column of skin while they cuddled, pressing delicate kisses there more and more often. Stephen had caught on quickly and Tony had been blown away by his willingness to let him do as he pleased, when he pleased, often turning his head to the side to provide further access or willfully pushing up into Tony’s kisses or sometimes his hand.
It turned out his lover was incredibly sensitive on his neck and quickly fell quiet and pliant under Tony’s attentive administrations. It was simply another thing for Tony to add to the list being silently compiled in his head proving they were made for each other.
Tony let his hand slowly slide up Stephen’s chest, until it was sitting right at the base of Stephen’s throat. As he always did, Tony’s breath deepened, his gaze locked on to where his hand slid higher, until it was now resting comfortably on his larynx. Tony’s eyes fluttered closed as he felt the subtle rise and fall of Stephen’s breath, could feel at his carefully placed pinky, the throb of his pulse.
He had suspected for a long time now it was not simply sexual, this fixation. In fact, it could be argued it was anything but. Stephen got off on it he knew, and he was more then happy to indulge, to give the man everything he deserved. For himself, on the other hand, he was beginning to realize, in these quiet moments that what he really loved about it, the thing that made him feel so completely focused and calm while his hand rested on it…was the vulnerability.
This fragile part of the body, crafted so loosely from skin and bone and tendons was so god damn beautiful and so very defenseless to Tony, to anyone. It wouldn’t take much to incapacitate him, push a little harder, twist just right and it would be all over. The fact that Stephen willingly offered his throat to Tony, silently trusting him with this part of him, quietly asking for more was absolutely devastating to Tony’s heart and mind.
When he was resting his hand here, he could feel Stephen’s pule, he could feel each and every rise and fall of the breath echoing through this hollow space. He could rest his head there as he sometimes did and fall asleep to the sweet lullaby of life in the man he loved. It was a space he couldn’t bare to see marked, not even with his own.
Tony applied the lightest of pressure, felt Stephen shift finally, head once more rolling away a bit, his throat pushing into his hand as he stretched. He smiled brightly as Stephen’s eyes opened and blinked rapidly in the light before rolling back towards him and offering his own lazy grin in return.
“Morning, love you,” Stephen murmured in that hazy just woke croak and fuck.
There was also that. The feeling of his throat shifting under the steady pressure of his hand as he spoke those precious words, letting Tony feel them in his soul. He leaned up then, careful not to press down with his hand and kissed Stephen hard.
“Love you too, sleep well?” he reveled in the way he could feel Stephen’s low chuckle and answering smile.