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Tony watched through half lidded eyes, from his place lounging on the couch as Stephen debated with the three other sorcerers, sitting at a small round table. They had been at it for nearly an hour, ever since they’d shown up at the Sanctum door, bloodied and dirtied from a battle. Tony wasn’t exactly sure what had happened, the soft ebb and flow of their voices, lulling him into this hazy in between, conjured by his exhausted mind.
He smiled lazily, settling more firmly on the cushions, ignoring the glance the only woman sent his way, his presence clearly making them uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t be leaving until he could drag his sorcerer off to bed.
He found himself watching Stephen’s lips, the way they shaped their words, the quick sure movements around foreign, complicated sounds, each of which only soothed him further. He only wished he could drown out the irritating drone coming from the other voices, their pitch enough to grate on his ears compared to the smooth, deep baritone of his lover’s voice.
See, Tony had learned very quickly that he had an…obsession? Proclivity? Fixation? None seemed to fit but sufficed to say, Stephen’s voice was hypnotizing. He often wondered what exactly it was he liked so much about it, but he appeared to be discovering new things everyday, new tones and cadences that would strike him like a blow to the head.
Right now, for example. On the surface, Stephen’s measured tone, quickly spoken words, careful rise and fall was designed to put their visitors, who were still hopped up on adrenalin, at ease. Except, just underneath it all Tony could detect a hint of exasperation, in the way the words he’d already said several times now, faded at the end. There was irritation as well, as the more nervous of the two men insisted Stephen check to see if the creature was really dead, when the no grew harder.
Tony suspected it would take him a lifetime to identify all the subtleties of that deep voice, realizing that where Stephen’s control was ironclad on emotions and expressions, it was in his voice that it slipped out.
Like the time Tony got himself smashed into a building and his lover had landed in front of him, eyes disapproving, head shaking a little, words berating him for the stupid move he made but his voice…the smallest of tremors gave it all way.
Or when Tony was losing his cool and was more then ready to go head to head with the latest government douche-bag and Stephen’s hand touched his back lightly, a murmured, “Tony,” under his breath that was so light and airy he froze, unable to defy the subtle command.
Then of course there was the first time he ever heard that snarky, deep voice tinged with amusement. It hadn’t been intentional, Tony making some usual comment about his robots and their incompetence when Stephen rolled his eyes, “somehow I’m not surprised,” that ended on a low rumble in his chest, that still made shivers go through Tony, even now.
Oh, and the first time he annihilated SHIELD during the early days, when they were adamantly trying to recruit him and had begun with thinly-veiled threats. Tony hadn’t even had the chance to stand up in defense of the man who had just become one of his closest friends, before he had levelled hard eyes on them and his tone, brilliantly chilly, yet unfailing polite, had commanded the room with such an air of authority and superiority that it left the agents speechless. He just wished he could remember exactly what he said, but he had been too busy trying to hide his arousal, which had quite suddenly made his pants extremely tight, while simultaneously concocting plans to get the man in his bed.
Which of course turned out quite well because now he had him all the time. And fuck was his voice brilliant when it came to their sex life. Stephen, the observant man he was, had quickly caught on to Tony’s obsession with his voice and used it to torture him when they had sex, keeping up a constant litany of praise, observation, and vocal moans that he knew drove him up the wall.
That wasn’t to say there weren’t moments he could do without.
The first time he had ever heard Stephen cry out in pain had ripped through him like a lightening strike, the absolute horror of that sound from a man whose pain tolerance rivaled his own had been nauseating.
Or his strained whisper before disappearing before his eyes, still fueled his nightmares to this day.
The sound of emotion choking his voice, a sight and sound he couldn’t bare.
Yet, for all the bad those moments were, they were still so uniquely Stephen, distinct and earth-shattering and he wouldn’t want to forget a moment of them because it was still that voice, the one that called to him when he was in his darkest moments, the one that coaxed him from nightmares and panic attacks, the one that whispered I love you with such adoration it made his heart skip a beat.
There were very few things he wouldn’t do if it was Stephen’s voice commanding it.
“Tony?”
He blinked up at Stephen who was looking over at him with a pained expression, but as always, his voice went a little soft when he said his name.
“Yeah?”
Stephen’s eyes flickered toward the others and it was obvious they had given up the fight, slumping in their seats and resigned to a night of rest before returning to Kamar-Taj. He’d never understand the urge so many of these sorcerers had for confirmation, for research even after they’d won their individual fights, “why don’t you head on up and I’ll meet you there in a bit?”
It was Stephen’s responsibility to get them settled, to perform their standard cleansing spell now that they were susceptible to it. Side affects of dimension hopping and it would take a least twenty minutes, so with a sigh, Tony nodded.
The Cloak flew to his shoulders, intent on following him to bed and once again he didn’t miss the raised eyebrows but this time he stared back until they looked away, winking at Stephen who just shook his head.
There was no way he’d fall asleep until Stephen had slipped into bed next to him. Inevitably, Tony would ask him for the details he missed, request to know who they were, their backstories, anything to encourage Stephen’s mindless droning, desperate for the familiar lullaby of his deep voice singing him to sleep.
He supposed he was just lucky enough that Stephen was so willing to indulge him with nothing more then a soft smile.