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Stephen has never really understood physical affection. He sees people do it all the time, but the thought of it never really sparks anything in him. In fact, in certain cases, he finds it quite repulsive.
He gets the pleasure aspect of it all, but the ‘affection’ bit? He isn’t quite sure. If anything, it felt like an invasion of his personal space. Which is why he hated having to be the one to break news to patients during his neurosurgeon years; he hated the hugs they gave him after a successful surgery, and never understood how to comfort them when delivering bad news. Part of why he wanted to become a doctor was because he knew it lacked the need for socialising, so patient interactions were not one of his fortes.
This makes things… difficult, so to say, in relationships he’s been in.
Christine had been big on physical touch when they were together. When she lays a hand over him, trails her fingers on his skin, or leans in a little too close for his own comfort – well, he finds himself pulling away. He just couldn’t help it. And perhaps that was one of the many things that made him seem like an asshole. And one of the many reasons they never really fit for each other.
It’s no wonder their relationship didn’t last very long. Most of them didn’t.
It’s not like he hates touch or anything, it’s just never been very appealing to him.
His parents weren’t the touchy type, either, and he’s glad for that. Sure, sometimes he wishes his father would hug him and say he’s proud of his achievements, but still.
So it came as a surprise when Tony came along and turned that part of him completely upside down. A lot of him does, when Tony’s involved.
The first time Stephen showed his averseness to touch, Tony hadn’t looked hurt, or offended, like he expected he would. Like how everyone else would have reacted. He notices, at some point, how Tony tries not to make the first approach when it comes to touch. He’d let Stephen make the first move, and then never misses to reciprocate.
And whenever Tony does make the first move, he makes sure to ask for Stephen’s permission first. Even with the slightest touch, like a hand over his shoulder or a swipe over the corner of his lip when he eats, Tony always asks beforehand.
From then on, touch felt, well, different, when it came to Tony. It felt more gentle. He felt more comfortable knowing he won’t be touched unless he wants to, and knowing his own touch is encouraged and will, without fail, be returned. It makes him feel appreciated, in a way.
But it’s in one morning, where none of them have duties to tend to and have the full day for themselves, laying in bed and tangled under the sheets, did touch become something completely different to him.
Stephen woke up that morning to the light of dawn filtering through the curtains, casting a gentle glow in the room. He feels the warmth of Tony’s body wrapped around him, whose arm is slung over his waist and the other tucked under Tony’s head.
He finds he quite likes the proximity. It doesn’t feel at all invasive, the way most touch makes him feel. On the contrary, it made him feel secure, in a way. It’s a sort of comfort he couldn’t quite describe.
When Tony stirs awake slightly, Stephen shuffles closer to see the way his eyes flutter open. The light of day casts golden light over his features, and Stephen finds himself staring. Tony’s half-lidded eyes lock onto his, and a smile slowly stretches across both their lips.
“Morning,” Tony’s sleep-laden voice mumbles barely above the air.
“Morning,” Stephen greets back, voice just as raspy.
Tony seems to take notice of the way his limbs have, in his sleep, managed to wrap themselves around Stephen. He moves to pull away, gently prying himself off, but Stephen quickly stops him by moving in closer, wrapping his arms around Tony in a cuddle, and then pushing his head flush to Tony’s chest. The latter freezes at the action for a moment, before immediately relaxing and pulling Stephen impossibly closer.
Stephen breathes in contentedly, feeling warmth bloom in his chest.
It's in moments like these, where they're both vulnerable and tender with each other, their hearts beating in sync and breaths mingling in the air, that Stephen realises just how much Tony means to him. It’s assuring to feel how real and alive and present Tony is, close to him like this.
As they lay there, lost in the quiet intimacy of the morning, Stephen knows that he's finally found someone who understands him; someone who cherishes him exactly as he is. He’s still not sure how they’ve made it this far in their relationship without him messing up, but at the end of the day, neither of them really know what they’re doing. So maybe everything will turn out just fine.
With a newfound sense of ease, Stephen reaches out to trace gentle patterns on Tony's arm, reveling in the intimacy of the moment. He delights in the way Tony’s hand reaches up to play with the loose strands of his hair, which is messy from sleep, leaning back into the touch. He hears Tony letting out a chuckle, and feels heat creeping up into his cheeks and turning the tip of his nose red. It makes him feel needy. It makes him crave more of whatever it is he’s feeling. He’s feeling a little bold, and maybe a little greedy, so he doesn’t hesitate to demand more.
He looks up at Tony from where his head is squished into the man’s chest, mirroring the dopey smile on his partner’s face. He leans upwards, brushing their lips together in a gentle kiss. He’s not sure why he can’t stop smiling, but Tony doesn’t seem to stop smiling either, so maybe it’s okay.
When they pull back, Stephen lets out a delighted giggle that pushes its way out of his chest.
The world feels soft and gentle and warm and comforting. Nothing else mattered but the two of them at that moment, and Stephen feels what he could only describe as a sense of belonging. Tony feels like home to him.
And in that moment, as he focuses on taking consecutive breaths, feeling the gentleness in every movement of Tony’s fingers, Stephen realises that perhaps touch isn’t that bad after all.