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Tony awoke slowly to the feeling of intangible warmth on his skin, and to the red glow of sunlight behind closed lids. He took his time clambering out of deep sleep, savoring the knowledge that today there was nowhere he had to be and nothing he had to do. The soft sound of Stephen’s breathing and the rise and fall of his chest against Tony’s was like a lullaby and almost sent him drifting back into the dreams he’d just left. Finally, though, he managed to slowly open his eyes.
It never ceased to amaze Tony how much younger Stephen looked when he was sleeping, bathed as he was in the early morning light streaming through their bedroom window. He couldn’t recall ever seeing his fiancé this truly, utterly relaxed when he was awake, with his jaw lax and his pale skin smoothed of its stress-etched wrinkles. The juxtaposition made his rapidly greying hair all the more noticeable, and Tony was reminded of just how much stress Stephen had taken on in the past five years.
With one hand he lightly traced the edges of the stark white bandages that wound around his fiancé’s bare torso and right arm, another reminder of the duties that the man bore as Sorcerer Supreme. Tony shuddered as he remembered placing them there the night before when Stephen had stumbled through a portal and into their living room, dripping with blood and a thick, inky substance he could only assume was magical.
With his other arm, Tony held his fiancé protectively; he cradled him a little closer to his own chest, which the sorcerer was currently pillowed against as he slept.
Stephen had scared the shit out of him last night. Tony had thought that he was going to lose him: the man who had saved him both body and soul time and time again. Even the thought of it was intolerable. His fiancé was the only reason he was still standing after Thanos, after losing Pepper, after Von Doom, after Mordo, after everything that had gone wrong since they’d first met two and a half years ago. Stephen was one of the few things in his life that hadn’t turned to shit, one of the few people whom he had never been able to push away no matter how hard he’d tried.
Tony couldn’t lose him… but for a few hours last night, he’d been certain that he would.
And now that the other man was safe, all he could feel was love and joy and relief that he had been wrong. They’d been granted the gift of more time and he was determined to make every single second count.
After a few more minutes spent like this, with Tony stroking his fiancé’s skin, holding him close, reveling in the sound and feel of his deep, even breathing, the other man began to stir. Seafoam blue eyes slowly blinked open, taking a moment to adjust to the rays of sunshine bathing the room in a peaceful glow. Tony gave a small, soft smile as the man’s gaze focused on him. “I didn’t mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep for a few hours, sweetheart.”
Stephen’s lips curled up into a relaxed smile of their own as he stared up at Tony with more love and adoration than the engineer had ever thought he deserved.
“What time is it?” he asked with an adorable slur, voice still thick with sleep.
Tony couldn’t resist pressing a kiss into his salt-and-pepper curls. “Too early for someone who almost died last night,” he said softly. “Humor me and close your eyes for a few more hours. You need the rest.”
“Only if you’ll stay with me.”
This time, Tony leaned down to brush his lips against Stephen’s own. “I’ll stay by your side for as long as you’ll have me,” he whispered, letting the heat of his breath ghost across his fiancé’s skin. “That’s what I promised you when I gave you that ring, isn’t it?”
The other man’s nose wrinkled. Tony wasn’t sure whether he’d expected him to return his sappy statement with a teasing quip or a loving declaration of his own, but Stephen caught him by surprise by answering instead, “Your breath reeks, Tony. What did you do, eat a head of raw garlic?”
Tony leaned back a bit and stared at the sorcerer in mock-offense.
“Everyone gets morning breath. You get morning breath.”
“Not this bad.”
Tony rolled his eyes with fond exasperation. “You were bleeding out on the living room floor last night. Forgive me if I forgot to brush my teeth before stumbling into bed once Wong and I had you stable.”
“That’s disgusting.”
Tony grinned wickedly and leaned down to kiss Stephen once more, but the other man blocked his face with a hand before he could.
“Fine,” he mumbled against the palm covering his mouth. “I’ll go brush.”
He began to sit up, dislodging Stephen from his place curled up against his chest in the process.
The sorcerer made a noise of displeasure at the movement and Tony froze. “Oh god, did I hurt you?” His hands fluttered uselessly over the other man’s body, worried and desperate to do something to help but also afraid of making the pain worse. “Are you okay? Where does it hurt? Baby, tell me what to do.”
Stephen reached up to grab Tony’s arm before he could sit up fully. His trembling hands were far too weak to maintain the grasp, but Tony understood what Stephen wanted and went with the movement willingly. He laid back down, and with a cat-like stretch Stephen once more draped himself over Tony’s torso. “I didn’t say you could move.”
Tony sighed in relief. “So you’re not in any pain?”
“Nothing more than I can handle.”
“Do you want me to get you some Advil?”
“I think we’ve already established that I want you exactly where you are.”
“Even with my bad breath?”
Stephen twirled his wrist, orange sparks sizzling around his fingertips, and suddenly Tony’s mouth was filled with the taste of spearmint. “Much better,” the sorcerer murmured, taking a few seconds to enjoy the pleasant scent before craning his neck to press their lips together.
The kiss was less chaste than the ones before it, filled with tongue and heat and the sliding of hands over one another’s bodies. Still, their passion was lazy and languid. They had nowhere they needed to be but here, and no one they needed to be with but each other.
Eventually they parted, each breathing heavily through kiss-swollen lips, skin flushed.
“I should get injured more often if it means waking up like this,” grinned Stephen.
Tony made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat. “If I wasn’t so worried about hurting you, I would literally push you off of this bed right now.”
“Your point?”
“Just… don’t ever scare me like that again. Please. I can’t lose you too.”
The mirthful light slipped from Stephen’s seafoam eyes. He reached a trembling palm up to cup his fiancé’s cheek. “You know I can’t promise that.”
Tony raised his own hand to catch Stephen’s before the other man could pull away. He knew that his own expression must mirror the other’s sad, serious face.
“I know,” he sighed after a pause. “And I can’t either.”
They stayed that way for a few more moments, gazes locked, held hands resting on Tony’s cheek before either broke the silence.
“I love you,” said Tony softly, running his free hand up and down Stephen’s bare back.
“And I love you,” he answered. “Kiss me again?”
So Tony did.