Work Text:
Stephen threw his duffel into the trunk next to Tony’s, slamming the trunk shut.
“You sure about this?” Tony asked, as Stephen slid into the passenger seat. “It’s not—”
“It is too late, actually,” Stephen said. “I chose this. Now, you’ve sent both of our things on ahead in the moving truck. The only thing left to get to California is us. I need to find a job before classes start.”
“What? You don’t want to do a three-week tour of the United States?” Tony teased. “It’d be fun. Hotels every night, the biggest ball of twine, a national monument or two.”
“Obadiah wouldn’t be happy,” Stephen pointed out. “Something about shirking your responsibilities.”
Tony hummed. “Obadiah is never happy with me,” he said. “I don’t let it bother me, too much. This is your last bout of freedom before med school steals your soul.”
“My soul will be fine,” Stephen countered. “Because, unlike many of my fellow students, I’m going to have something good to come home to most nights.”
“Good, huh?” Tony smirked. “Is that what I am?”
“Oh yes,” Stephen said. “You make decent coffee, give back rubs, know how to microwave tv dinners, and spend too much money on take out. I’ll be spoiled rotten.”
“You just want me for my take out.”
“And the back rubs,” Stephen added. “Don’t forget those.”
Tony laughed. “Must be very good back rubs, if they were enough to convince you to choose California. Stanford red just isn’t as good a color on you as Columbia blue.”
“There might be a few other perks,” Stephen acknowledged. “But Stanford’s colors are inconsequential. I happen to like MIT red and black, thanks.”
Tony paused, eyes narrowing. “Is that where my hoodie went?”
Stephen smirked. “You’re never getting it back. It’s mine, now.”