Chapter Text
They had had a beautiful time together. It had been less than half a year since they met, a couple of months since they started dating and a week since one of them got infected. Everything had changed in a moment, their plans for the future torn apart.
Stephen's fingers trembled as he took a photo of him and Tony and looked at it, taking in the beautiful memories they had made together. They were smiling, hands intertwined. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes yet before he could wipe them away, a painful cough escaped his throat, sending splatters on the glass covering and the frame.
Scared to ruin it any further, he dropped it back onto the shelf and coughed more, this time into a napkin, already stained with his blood. His veins were colored a deep purple, contrasting his pale skin.
Stephen was sick, having caught the disease from a magical entity hellbent on destroying him before it as well succumbed to it. The only thing that gave him some comfort was the fact that he was able to seal it away into himself so Tony and everyone else he loved would be safe from what he was experiencing. Tears formed and ran down his cheeks, staying unnoticed to him as his thoughts were far away.
He had looked for answers the entire week, finding nothing but a promise of certain doom. He didn't want to have to leave Tony, to have to make him have to see him deteriorate. That was who he loved with all his heart and he could do nothing to save him the pain. He had spent as much time with Tony as he could over the past week, the only thing he could do to alleviate his burdens.
There was a slight knock at his door and he wiped away his tears, not wanting to let his partner see that he was scared and worried. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to make Tony mourn for him.
The genius stepped in, his face worried and grim at first yet a comforting smile stretched on his lips to make the sorcerer feel slightly better. Stephen loved him with all his heart, his smile, his laughter and all the other emotions he had, the way he could fix anything, including Stephen himself. He was beautiful, a hero and the best man he had ever had the opportunity to meet.
Tony walked to him, his hands shaking despite the seemingly happy expression.
"Do you want to watch a movie, Stephy?" he tried to start a conversation, not knowing how to help the man anymore and grasping at whatever straws he could. The nicknames that had once been joyous, slightly mocking and loving now had a bittersweet edge to them.
Stephen tugged on a pair of thin yet covering gloves, not for Tony but himself. He had accepted his scars from the injuries and now, the effects of the illness without skipping a beat. He loved Stephen with all his heart and he had proved to the sorcerer that nothing was going to change that. His hands had taken the biggest hit from the outward symptoms of the disgusting disease, the purple making his hands look like a maze of papery white skin that had been drawn on with a marker. The raised scars from the surgeries were untouched by the darkness, showing up as pale pathways.
"Of course I'll come," he flashed a weak smile of his own, his voice raspy. He stood up, using the armchair he was in to help him. He took Tony's offering hand and grunted slightly when the man pulled him up.
Tony began to speak at once, babbling constantly just to shut up the thoughts in his head, "So, what do you want to watch? I have this really cool movie, it's actually a cartoon but I hope you don't mind. Did I tell you that I cried like a baby when I first saw it and I am not exaggerating at all, I really did, Rhodey teased me about it for months. Do you want popcorn? I made an entire bag of it just before I got here even though I didn't know if you were going to accept."
He tried to follow his rambling but gave up as soon as they got into the elevator which was going to take them to the movie room. Tony's soothing voice faded into the background as he relaxed and softened the tight grip he had on the other man's hand ever since he helped him up.
Tony glanced at him for a moment and smiled softly before continuing with the talking even until they reached their destination. Stephen fell into the softness of the loveseat, hearing the clattering coming from the popcorn bowls and the sound of a new bag of kernels popping sharply in the microwave.
He coughed again, the splatters ruining his Elsa-themed blue gloves, a gag gift from Tony that he pretended to hate but secretly loved. He placed the hand face down onto the couch, not wanting to show the extent of his illness to the genius, who had just arrived with the warm bowls of buttery popcorn.
With his clean hand, he took the popcorn and shoved it in his mouth, feeling the satisfying crunching but hardly any of the taste he knew and loved. Over the past week, all his senses, not including sight, had been dulling, making him feel like he was inside a bubble that was blocking everything.
Tony started the movie and scooted closer to him during the first minutes, wrapping his arms around Stephen and cuddling him while munching on his snack as well.
Another cough was tickling his throat and he tried to hold it down with all his might to conceal it from Tony as he didn't want him to worry more about him. There was no need for him to cause the man unnecessary worry and pain.
He didn't quite focus on the movie and instead cuddled with him, enjoying the sweet and soft gesture and the closeness. He loved the warmth, the strong arms that were wrapped around him in his time of weakness. He let his head loll onto Tony's shoulder.
Suddenly, he coughed again, making the genius jolt and look at him in concern. Tony released his hold on him and moved slightly farther away, his brown eyes concentrated on his blue ones.
"Stephen, what's wrong? Is it the disease? How can I help?" spilled from his mouth as he reached towards the coffee table to grab a box of Kleenex he had taken in case he cried during the movie. The cartoon had been forgotten the moment he heard the horrid hacking.
It felt as if he was coughing up his insides, the red splatters painting every surface they landed on.
"I don't think," he had to stop for a moment, "I don't think I have a lot of time left."
His words destroyed the lighthearted mood that had prevailed before and unveiled the harsh reality both of them wished to escape. Stephen was sick and so far, they hadn't found a single cure for his ailments. There wasn't anything they could anymore as even Tony had given up on trying to find a solution and instead chosen to give comfort and fool both the sorcerer and himself.
He placed his hands on the pale white skin of Stephen's face, one hand on each side, cradling his face in a soft embrace. His eyes were sad and welling up with tears, Stephen mirroring his display of emotions, the tears beginning to fall. Slowly, Tony pulled his face closer, searching his eyes for any implication that he didn't want it.
He took a deep breath that involuntarily whistled in his mouth and asked, "May I kiss you?"
The man nodded without hesitation, so he moved his lips onto his, placing a chaste kiss on them. It was slow and intimate, without any ulterior motive, just a display of their feelings and a way to delay the emotional response, the final tame action for the time being.
The kiss was broken when Stephen started to hack out blood once more, some of the deep red droplets landing on his ghostly white skin, making him look even more like a ghost than before.
He tried to stand up from the couch, yet his body was giving up, his limbs were weak and his hands trembled more than he ever remembered them doing. His legs were like jelly and he fell to the ground and stayed there, having no strength left to rise again.
Stephen wasn't crying anymore, having run out of tears. He was going to die like this, a huddle of bones and skin on the floor, his partner standing next to him, unable to do anything. It was strangely peaceful, an end he hadn't planned for himself yet it was one of the best he could have imagined. He was going to leave this existence knowing that he had been loved and he had loved, he had friends and someone who took care of him if he needed it.
Tony helped him into a sitting position, his face red and splotchy as he peppered feather-light kisses on his face. He clutched him in his arms, not wanting to let go of him, not ready to leave the man he loved.
"I want to go to the rooftop..." he whispered, "I want to see the sun..."
"You're going to see the sun, I'm going to take you to see all the stars in the universe if you stay alive, please just stay with me. I love you so much, Stephen," he cried and lifted him in a princess carry. His muscled protested at this, not used to lifting a grown man.
They spoke in a low voice to each other, getting ready to say their goodbyes. The elevator dinged at the final floor and warm evening sun shone in their eyes.
Stephen twisted his neck to see the golden glow, feeling it flood over him even as he was coughing his lungs out. He would have never guessed that he would want to see the sunset as his final wish, to see the death of something as glorious as a day.
He glanced back at Tony, who was barely handling it. He put the sorcerer on the ground to let him experience the view better and helped him in a sitting position and soon he sat down as well, his eyes unseeing as he tried to direct them towards the glimmering, warm light.
"I love you, Tony. I never wanted it to be like this. I wish we could have grown old together," his voice was nothing more than a whisper and the purple veins had overtaken his face, leaving only white in the gaps. He tugged off the gloves weakly and took Tony's hand in his, a simple yet powerful gesture.
Tony sniffled and for a moment, a bittersweet smile twitched on his face as he said, "I love you too. I'll miss you."
The cold, purplish hands trembled for some time until they finally went limp, his face relaxing, his eyes becoming unseeing.
Tony hugged him, grieving the man, whispering to him, willing him to breathe and live again, knowing it was never going to work. He could see nothing but his own failures reflecting off the glassy eyes. He took the hand still clutched in his to his lips and placed a final kiss on his hand.
His hands were shaking along with the rest of his body, but he managed to close the gaping eyes to bring the man some peace in his death. He pulled his knees to his chest and broke down crying once again.
The last light from the sun was dying and darkness was enveloping the city.
Stephen Strange was gone.