Work Text:
Stephen’s been warned about Tony’s… habits before they started dating. He knows to a fault that the man is a workaholic, much like himself (don’t they just make the best disaster pair?) and because of that, he knows all the tricks in the book to get Tony out of a work-spiral whenever he decides to lock himself down in the lab. This goes both ways in their relationship.
It’s taken some time to find out, but seduction, Stephen thinks, is usually an effective method. If Tony refuses to rest, he’ll try… less destructive ways to exhaust the man to sleep. His other go-to, especially when Tony insists he isn’t hungry after not having a meal for hours on end, is lying small food items around; a granola bar on his bench or work table, a bowl of fruit readily sitting on a surface somewhere, bringing boxes of donuts or Tony’s favourite cheeseburger as he visits the lab, anything but coffee because God knows a coffee-addict like him has too much of that in his lifetime.
Tony seems to eat more frequently whenever he has company or someone there to eat with him rather than doing so alone, so Stephen makes it a habit to bring an extra, lighter meal to eat with him whenever he brings food over. He’s also made it a habit to keep track of how many glasses of water Tony drinks in a day, silently encouraging him to drink at the very least the appropriate amount. JARVIS helps him in this matter, sometimes collaborating with him to push Tony to eat or rest or shower.
He knows these methods like the back of his hand.
This time, however, none of them seem to work.
“Tony,” Stephen says exasperatedly, after he’s exhausted all his options. He rubs his temples, the start of a headache forming in the back of his head. He sighs, puts his hands on his hips in what Tony usually calls the ‘mom pose’, and looks Tony in the eyes.
Something about the paleness of his face, the heavy bags under his eyes, the gauntness of his cheeks… Stephen can’t help but let his eyes soften. He drops his arms to let them dangle on his sides with yet another sigh.
“There’s something that’s bothering you, is there?” Stephen says, and it’s more of a statement than a question. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Tony isn’t usually this stubborn or resistant when it comes to him–and that’s a great statement considering how the man has the immovable stubbornness of the world’s possibly largest rock–which means that something, whatever it is, has been bothering him so much to the point where he desperately seeks distraction in the form of, well, working himself to death.
“I’m fine,” was Tony’s terse reply.
Stephen isn’t having any of it.
“No. You’re clearly not. Just–” He sighs. “You can tell me, Tony. What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he says, stubbornly looking away to continue with whatever new project he’s working on.
Stephen works his jaw, breathes in to calm himself, and resists the temptation to just physically pull Tony away from his work. “At least eat something.”
“Not hungry,” Tony mumbles, an answer Stephen has predicted after hearing it millions of times. It’s like they’re sticking to a script.
“Tony, you haven’t eaten at all today. You must be at least a little hungry. Did you even drink any water? At all?”
Tony doesn’t answer. Stephen wants to shake him.
“JARVIS?” he says, trying to keep his voice from sounding impatient.
“Sir has not drank anything but coffee today, Doctor Strange.”
Stephen wants to scream at him. He takes a moment to keep himself in check.
“Tony, I thought you said you wanted to quit the cof–”
“Look, if you have nothing important to tell me, you can just leave,” Tony cuts him off.
Stephen processes the words. Something is very, very wrong if Tony is pushing him away like this. He tries a gentler approach.
“Why are you doing this, Tony?” he asks, making sure not to slip in too much of his concern lest Tony take it as pity. That would make Tony pull away. “You’re pushing me away.”
“I’m not,” Tony practically snaps. “You’re just bothering me when I’m clearly working. I’m busy. Don’t you have wizard duties to attend to? Another birthday party, maybe?” he says carelessly, and Stephen tries not to let it show how much the words sting. “Now if you’d please, the exit’s that way.” He points to the entrance, not bothering to take his eyes off whatever data he’s reading on the holographic screen.
“My duties as a sorcerer are already tended to.” Stephen says, “Something’s clearly wrong, Tony. I can tell.”
“What? Is that like, the wizard equivalent of a spidey tingle?” Tony jokes dryly, but it comes off sounding defensive. “I said I’m fine. You can leave.”
Stephen doesn’t let himself budge. He could do this all day if it meant Tony would finally give in. He completely ignores Tony’s demand for him to leave.
He knows this method. He’s done it before. Pushing people away is what they both do, not because they want to purposefully hurt the other, but because they refuse to actually communicate the problem at hand.
Tony’s an idiot. They both are.
“You can tell me, you know?” Tony groans aloud. Stephen’s urge to just shake him until he sees sense grows by the second. He’s hanging on by a thread, but he resists. “We talked about this. I know your boundaries, you know mine. But we agreed on keeping things open between us. I want you to tell me, Tony. What’s wrong? Tell me.”
Tony turns to look at him. His jaw is fixed. There’s stubbornness displayed in the tightness of his brows, the narrowing of his eyes, the pursing of his lips. Beneath it, Stephen can see exhaustion clear as day.
“Please,” Stephen adds, hoping the word would move the man in some way.
And then there it is, a miniscule shift in his expression, the slightest change as his eyes soften. Stephen takes it as an opportunity to break through, to penetrate the walls Tony has built around himself, to break him down just so he could stitch him back together. “I care about you, Tony. I just want to help.”
That seems to have done it for him.
Tony’s mask falls, the lines of his face turning slack as he finally reveals himself to Stephen.
“I…” he looks away, and there’s embarrassment that Stephen can see in him for allowing himself to be vulnerable. “Sometimes I just… I just think that… I just feel like–” he sighs, and then starts over. “I’ve been thinking lately.”
He pauses, presses his lips together into a thin line, eyes cast down in thought. Stephen notes the way he wraps his arms protectively in front of his chest. Stephen waits for him to continue.
“I’ve been thinking about… about– well, about you. And me. I’ve been thinking about us.”
Stephen isn’t sure where this is going. He feels a spike of panic at the implication of Tony having thoughts about their relationship, but quickly buries it down. He needs to hear the full thing first.
Tony leans back on the table behind him. He looks so exhausted. “I don’t deserve you, Stephen. I really don’t. You’re too good for me. I don’t deserve you.” Tony’s eyes flick about.
Stephen curses internally. He should’ve known it’s an anxiety spiral. Of course Tony’s first instinct was to pull away and withdraw from everything. Of course his first course of action was to self-isolate, shut everything away, and drown himself in his work. Sometimes Stephen thinks they’re mirrors of each other.
“I’m gonna mess it up. Somehow, I will. I always do, eventually. Pepper is enough proof. And I just… I don’t even know why you still stick around. I’m a horrible person, Stephen. You deserve more than… than…” he trails off.
“Than the most wonderful person I’ve ever met?” Stephen continues for him, “The most caring, most charming, kindest man the world could ever offer?”
Tony huffs. “I’m none of that.”
“Yes, you are. Maybe you don’t see it, maybe other people don’t, but I do,” Stephen steps closer, and he sees Tony’s shoulders stiffen. He keeps a step’s distance between them, not wanting to initiate contact too abruptly. “I see you, Tony. I see you for the person you are. And what I see is… What I see is the most beautiful soul I’ve ever seen.”
Tony is quiet for a moment.
“I’m not a good person, Stephen,” Tony says, finally moving his head to face him. It’s only a couple seconds before he drops his eyes down to look at their feet, but it’s enough for Stephen to catch a glimpse of the insecurity in Tony’s eyes. “I think you deserve so much better.”
Stephen doesn’t want to shake him anymore. He wants to hug him.
"Tony," A desperate look takes over Stephen's face as he breaks the distance between them. Stephen leans down to try and catch Tony's eyes. “Tony, hey, listen to me,” he cups Tony’s jaw, moving his head so he would look up at Stephen. He almost forgets what he’s about to say upon the sight of Tony’s brown doe eyes, wide and vulnerable. “Sometimes I think I don’t deserve you,” he admits, breathing out. “But here we are. You're everything I've ever wanted and more and…” Stephen breathes in. His own anxiety is beginning to spike up. He cautiously moves to pull away. “Do you… not want to keep going? Are we moving too fast? I thought we agreed on–"
"Taking this slow,” Tony wraps a hand over Stephen’s wrist to stop him from moving away. “Yeah. I know. I remember. It's just…" He shrugs. “It’s ridiculous, you know? We’ve been together for… what? Five months? I usually would mess up by month three. This has got to be a record for me.”
Stephen can’t help his lopsided smile. “Hey,” he whispers softly, leaning forward so their foreheads touch. He sees Tony’s eyes search into his. “We’re both a mess. We’re both flawed. We both don’t know what we’re doing, but…” He reaches to hold Tony’s hand, dangling them in the space between them, squeezing softly. “This? This feels… right.”
Tony looks down at their joined hands. “It…” he breathes out, shoulders sagging. “It does. You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.”
Stephen huffs out a soft chuckle. “You are,” he says, pulling back so they could look into each other’s eyes. “But that’s okay. We’ll work this out, yeah?”
Tony hums. “Okay.” And then there it is, a tug at the edges of Tony’s lips, slowly growing into a smile that reaches all the way up to his eyes. “Thank you, Stephen. And I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing for you to apologise for,” he says with a smile, and leans in to capture Tony’s lips in his. He cards a hand through Tony’s greasy hair, moving their heads just the right direction to deepen the kiss.
Just then, they are alerted by the sound of the lab’s door sliding open. Stephen breaks the kiss and turns his head around as Tony peeks from his shoulder, trying to see whoever it is that decided to interrupt their moment.
“JARVIS, who–” Tony stops himself.
Peter is there, frozen and rooted to the ground, staring at them both with a slightly pinkening face.
“H– hi, Mr. Stark. Doctor Strange, sir,” Peter stutters out, awkwardly shifting the books he’s clutching on his chest. He looks at Tony’s questioning face. “I– I just came by to ask help from you on this homework and…” Peter’s eyes flick down to where Tony and Stephen have their hands linked together. “Did– did I interrupt something?”
Silence for a moment, and then Tony lets out a breathless chuckle, and Stephen can’t help but join in.
“It’s fine.” Tony gestures for Peter to come closer with a hand, “Come here. What do you need my help for?”
“Well–”
“Oh, no. Definitely not,” Stephen looks pointedly at Tony, and then turns back to Peter, who still hasn’t moved a step. Peter looks hesitant as he flicks his eyes back and forth between them both. “You’re gonna have to wait, kid,” Stephen says to him, “Tony needs to eat something first.”
“We can discuss while eating,” Tony shoots back.
“And get food on his homework? No, we’re eating first. And then homework. Peter, come join us. I think we have enough fries to spare.”
“Oh, uh,” he shifts his feet, “Okay.” Peter scurries over to them.