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Stephen woke quite suddenly, all at once jolting to awareness, though his body didn’t betray it. A deep baritone voice slipped from his mind, the violet streaking across his vision chased out by the warm rays of the sun. He was in Tony’s bed, curled up in the comforter and acutely aware that he was alone, the space next to him long vacated.
It wasn’t difficult to tell where his lover had slipped off to. The bathroom door was open, a slow steam rolling out and bringing with it the gentle spray of the shower, the shifting of someone just beyond. Stephen smiled, unable to help himself, as he sat up carefully, debating whether or not to join him. It was always easier to chase away the nightmares when Tony was near and providing so many other distractions.
The thought dissipated quickly with the telltale sound of the shower door opening and closing, the fan clicking on with a quiet hum. Stephen frowned at the missed opportunity but slid his legs off the bed all the same, waiting as the Cloak brought him a light grey t-shirt to throw on. Quietly, he made his way across the room until he was standing in the doorway, inhaling the damp heat from the shower.
Stephen paused there, taking in the sight before him with a raised eyebrow. Tony had a towel wrapped around his waist, another in his hands roughly trying to dry his hair. It was a lovely sight, all that glistening skin laid out for his eyes to feast on and enjoy.
Except.
Except now Tony was staring in the mirror, having used the towel to wipe away the condensation, and glaring at his reflection, fingers poking and prodding at his skin. They shifted up a moment later to play with his hair, parting the roots and turning his head to either side, checking the sides.
“What are you doing?” Stephen inquired softly.
Tony’s head snapped in his direction, startled and seemingly embarrassed to have been caught. It passed quickly though, a small smile and softening eyes making Stephen’s heart flutter, even after all this time, “good morning to you too.”
Stephen shook his head and came closer until he could stand behind Tony, arms circling around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder while he scrutinized their images in the mirror, “what were you doing?” he asked again.
Tony leaned back against him, hands coming up to grip the arms around him, “I’m getting old,” he whispered.
Stephen raised an eyebrow, still watching the strange look on his face. He hadn’t noticed but it was true. There was a peppering of grey in his hair, not so unlike Stephen’s, laugh lines stood more pronounced around his eyes and mouth, his entire face, posture simply exuded world weariness.
He wasn’t precisely sure what words Tony wanted to hear, his expression a mystery to him, some strange mix between awe and fear. So, Stephen simply pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, his neck, his jaw line, his cheek, tasting the freshly washed skin. Patience was a hard-won quality and he was more then willing to use it when it came to Tony and these moods that sometimes took him.
It took several minutes but eventually Tony’s hand came and pushed back his hair, slid down to touch his eyes again, his mouth, “its odd,” he murmured.
“What is?”
Tony’s face scrunched a little, “I just…never thought of myself as being old. I never thought I’d get there. Not even when I was younger, I was so god damn reckless and then after Afghanistan…well superheroes don’t really have the longest lifespan.”
Stephen paused, meeting Tony’s eyes in the mirror and felt a pang in his heart at the realization it was disbelief swimming in them. There was something else as well, a discomfort that Stephen understood intimately. To wake one morning and not recognize the face in the mirror was an incredibly personal experience, the face of mortality, especially if you believed you’d never see it, took a lifetime to come to terms with.
So, Stephen simply pressed another kiss to his shoulder before pretending to think on Tony’s image then ran trembling fingers through his lover’s hair, “I think you should keep the grey.”
Tony cracked a smile, relief springing up in his expression as he chuckled lowly, “why? You want us to match?”
Stephen hummed, grinning, “it just commands a respect your attitude doesn’t.”
“Hey!” Tony exclaimed in mock offense. “Plenty of people respect me.”
Stephen just laughed, squeezing Tony tighter before the man escaped his hold and jokingly shoved him away. He watched him disappear into the bedroom to change and Stephen found his own eyes straying to his reflection and all the signs of age he had long grown used to.
He had every intention of seeing Tony grow older, have more lines and more grey hair. More then once Stephen had dreamed of them, growing old together and although he knew that was likely just a dream, never to be realized or experienced, he figured he could make sure it happened for Tony.
Stephen knew his future was even more precarious then his lover and had no delusions that each day was precious.
“Stephen?’
With a quiet sigh, he shuffled into the bedroom, smiling widely as Tony picked out a lovely suit that complimented the glistening grey strands of his hair perfectly. His lover raised an eyebrow, “I’m going to embrace this and make you regret that comment.”
“Looking forward to it.”