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Tony had been waiting impatiently for Stephen to wake up for nearly fifteen minutes now. He was pressed tightly to his lover’s side, chin resting on his hands which in turn rested on Stephen’s chest as he glared at the man’s closed eyes.
The curtains were perfectly askew to emit the warm glow of the morning sun and Tony was acutely aware of the dwindling time frame in which the exact shade would remain. Usually Stephen was an obnoxiously early riser, up before the sun was out, eaten and showered, reading and watching with amusement as Tony came stumbling into the room.
But Tony had been waiting too long for this opportunity so last night he carefully arranged everything so Stephen would indulge and sleep in. He made reservations to eat out around eight, which made Stephen frown but otherwise not comment, he then goaded him into watching a few movies, claiming that hadn’t been spending enough time together, which was true, though besides the point. Finally, just as it turned to around one he dragged a sleepy Stephen into their bedroom and got to work keeping him awake for a further forty-minutes.
All so the man would finally sleep in.
Except now he was sleeping in too long.
Sick of waiting, Tony reached out and began to carefully sooth back Stephen’s hair, not wanting to startle him awake but coax him. He ducked down press a kiss to his chest, nipping at the skin lightly, his eyes still locked on Stephen’s.
His lover’s brows furrowed, head shifting a little to the side and Tony was quick to slide the hand in his hair down to his cheek, keeping him perfectly placed in the light. Stephen’s lips parted, body shifting ever so slightly as he came to consciousness and Tony grinned in triumph.
There was the small flutter of eyelashes, Tony’s breath caught in anticipation, then he was peeling back his lids, wincing as he was met directly with sunlight. Only Tony’s hand kept him still.
“Good morning,” he murmured.
Stephen grimaced, “would be if you’d let me move my head.”
“Nope, experiment. I need you to open your eyes.”
It was a testament to just how used to Tony’s antics Stephen was now when he only sighed, exhaustion still lining his features, and forced himself to open them. He blinked rapidly, but Tony was already pressing close, examining him.
A slow smile came to his lips as his heart swelled, taking in the beautiful shades dancing in the warm glow of the sun. Stephen was watching him right back, but he didn’t care, eager to take in the way the blues shimmered around greens, sliced through with rays of light.
This was definitely going in his top three. Shame he’d hardly ever get to see it.
Stephen raised an eyebrow, “care to share?”
Tony shrugged, dropping another kiss to his chest, hand releasing his face to rest lightly against his neck, “your eyes.”
“My eyes?” Stephen repeated, amusement and exasperation lacing his tone.
Tony nodded, “yeah, haven’t seen them in this lighting yet. Was curious.”
Stephen groaned, pushing his head back into the cushions, “their eyes Tony. Really necessary to plan all this?”
He wasn’t the least bit surprised Stephen made the connection from last night’s activities to this morning, but he simply shifted up higher, properly lounging on him now so he could press a kiss to his lips, “yeah. I’m trying to figure out all the variations.”
Stephen let out an unimpressed huff, clearly not in the mood to be his usual morning person self, “its sectoral heterochromia. They shift between blues and greens, hardly anything exciting about that.”
Tony frowned because that wasn’t true in the slightest, “actually, your eyes are really expressive because they don’t only change with the light but with your emotions.”
Stephen blinked at him, “what?”
Tony ran a thumb beneath one, “its subtle but I’ve been looking for it. It might be your magic doing it or something, but you can be standing in the study where it is dimly lit and they’ll just shift from dark green to a stormy greyish blue, all because something upset you.”
At Stephen’s confused expression, Tony continued, a smirk sliding onto his lips, “or like when they darken to this really deep green when I do something that turns you on,” he deliberately grinded against him, letting his leg brush against Stephen’s half-hard cock.
“That’s just dilation,” Stephen replied, trembling hands coming up to grip his hips.
“Except its not,” Tony watched as they darkened. He could see where the iris stopped, however, and where colour continued its mesmerizing swirl.
He knew Stephen didn’t quite believe him and that was fine, but he found himself growing more serious, his voice filling with sincerity, “they are beautiful you know.”
Stephen grimaced, “they are just eyes.”
“True, but yours are fucking brilliant.”
Stephen just sighed, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, likely to distract him and Tony allowed it willingly.
The thing was; Stephen was never good at accepting compliments. That wasn’t to say he was ignorant of his good looks, more that he wasn’t comfortable drawing attention to them, which was a habit Tony was determined to break.
His eyes though. They defied description, there was no way to explain how easily Tony could get lost in them, their depth enough to make you believe you’d drown if you stared too long. The old saying that the eyes were the gateway to the soul was exactly how Stephen’s eyes were. He hadn’t been lying about their shifting with his emotions and sometimes it felt like the only way to know what he was thinking, which was why Tony found himself desperate to categorize the many, many variations.
They were like the one piece of the unspoken language that was Stephen’s body he had yet to crack and there was nothing he liked more then a puzzle. He intended to get to know every facet, every meaning, every shade, until one day, reading them, reading Stephen, would be like second nature to him.
Then maybe he’d have the words to explain to Stephen how beautiful they were, how beautiful he was.