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"Oh, come on, Strange! This is the the third time today!"
Stephen rolled his eyes and turned around, walking into the sitting room with a mug of steaming hot tea in hand. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"
Stark rolled his eyes, languidly propping his bare feet up onto the coffee table- which on second thought may not have been the best idea, considering just how old the damn thing was. The scientist lowered his feet back to the scruffy rug underneath. "Just saying, Doc. You drink too waaaay much tea for your own good."
"Oh, and I suppose your twenty-four seven coffee sessions are any better?" Stephen calmly plopped down onto the couch beside Stark, their bodies meshing together easily as the sorcerer shuffled closer. Said sorcerer didn't really care about the fact that his elbow was no doubt digging into Stark's ribs, or how their legs had somehow tangled up when he had sat down. Stark himself didn't seem to mind, however. The genius slung his arm across Stephen's shoulders and pressed his lips gently on the other man's cheekbone.
"Is that a trick question?" Stark whispered into Stephen's ear, warm puffs of breath washing over the wizard's ear.
Stephen started to moan in pleasure at the sensation- then, out of both embarrassment and annoyance at the ridiculousness of the whole thing, quickly turned it into a groan of exasperation. "Just turn on the damn TV already, Stark."
"As you wish." Stark smirked as he spoke, an eyebrow quirking upwards ever so slightly.
Stephen groaned again, covering his eyes with a gloved hand in barely masked amusement. Peter really needed to stop making him and Stark watch those kinds of movies- otherwise the inventor was never going to shut up anytime soon. Not that Stephen would ever want him to. Although the former neurosurgeon would never admit it. Stark would never let him hear the end of it then. It was a little strange (pun fully intended), their relationship. Stephen had yet to put a name to it. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to name it at all. He certainly didn't want to label it right now, for fear of it becoming too real for either of them to handle. For fear of it all falling apart before it began, and for fear of Stephen being left to pick up the pieces alone.
Stephen swallowed hard and tilted his head to rest on Stark's chest, eyes locked onto whatever lame TV show was playing on the channel at the moment. After a moment, he tangled his fingers with Stark's, not a single word leaving his lips.
Best enjoy it while it lasts, Stephen told himself, closing his eyes and savouring the moment. Savouring the warmth radiating from Stark's body and savouring the soft touch that came with it. The gentle scent of whatever roast Stark drank today, the scent of the peppermint tea wafting up from Stephen's mug. And the chilliness of the Sanctum cutting in through Stephen's robes now and then, as if warning him that this was only temporary. That someday Stark would move on and find someone else.
And then Stephen would be all alone again.
Enjoy it while it lasts.