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The elevator in the Tower opens. Stephen enters the living room, which is now bathed in a soft twilight, illuminated only by the glow of the city lights through the windows and the bluish glow of the TV. Harley is sprawled on the sofa, watching a documentary about robotics engineering with headphones around his neck.
Upon seeing Stephen, Harley merely raises her chin in a silent greeting, without taking her eyes off the screen.
Stephen whispered hoarsely as he passed the sofa "Go to bed, Harley. It's past two."
Harley didn't even bother to look away from the screen, where a documentary about advanced robotics engineering was narrating the assembly of combustion engines. He just waved his hand dismissively, a gesture that was an exact copy of Tony's when he was immersed in a project. "The world won't end if I know how this engine works, Wizard."
Stephen shook his head, a resigned smile spreading across his lips. He didn't have the energy to win this argument, and Harley was too stubborn to be swayed by anything other than a power outage, so he headed down the hallway to the bedrooms. He entered the master bedroom. Tony lay there, a mass of rumpled sheets, fast asleep.
Stephen removed his shoes, leaving them neatly arranged beside the bed, and slowly took off his overcoat. He lay down on the bed, still in his underwear, and slid behind Tony, fitting himself against him, becoming the larger shell. His arm slid around Tony's waist, pulling the engineer's warm body closer. Stephen's hands rested on Tony's chest.
Tony let out a long sigh, a sound that vibrated against Stephen's chest. He adjusted himself, pressing his back against Stephen's chest, seeking the warmth. His hand moved up, groping until it found Stephen's hand on his chest, intertwining their fingers.
"...late... Merlin..." Tony murmured. His voice was a barely audible drawl, heavy with sleepiness and a tenderness he rarely displayed.
Stephen closes his eyes, resting his face against the back of Tony's neck, and finally relaxes.
Tony's scent is familiar now: stale coffee, metal, the faint hint of expensive cologne he insists on wearing, and something softer, almost sweet, that Stephen associates only with him—maybe it's the shampoo, maybe it's just Tony. It's been over a year since they stopped pretending this was just a "strategic partnership" or "alliance." A year and a few months since Tony, after a particularly ugly battle, looked at Stephen with those weary brown eyes and said, "If I die tomorrow, at least I'll know I finally kissed the most stubborn guy in the universe."
Stephen didn't answer right away. He just kissed him back, harder than he intended.
Now, with Tony breathing slowly against him, Stephen lets exhaustion catch up with him. He hasn't really slept in days.
Tony stirs again, a low groan escaping him. "Your hands are freezing..." he murmurs, without opening his eyes. "Did you go playing with ghosts again?"
Stephen smiled against his skin. "Something like that."
Tony chuckled softly, the sound vibrating in Stephen's chest. He pressed Stephen's hand against his own chest. " Did you miss me ?"
Stephen hesitates for only a second. He's not one for cheap sentimentality, but with Tony it's different. Tony gets the truth out of him like no one else has been able to.
" I always feel it ."
Tony slowly turns in the embrace until he's facing her. His eyes are half-closed, still heavy with sleep, but there's a glint there—that glint that says he's awake enough to be unbearable.
"Romantic. Who would have thought that the great Sorcerer Supreme would turn corny after a year of dating?"
Stephen rolls his eyes, but can't help but smile. "I'm not corny. I'm... pragmatic. And you were sleeping like the world didn't exist."
"I was actually dreaming about you. You were using that stupid cape as a sheet and complaining that I snore," Tony muttered.
"You snore."
"Lies. I purr. It's sexy."
Stephen snorted a low laugh. He ran his fingers down Tony's back, tracing invisible lines.
"Harley is still awake. Watching robotics documentaries at 2:30 in the morning," Stephen says.
Tony sighs dramatically. "That kid... He thinks that if he learns everything about engines before he's eighteen, he'll impress me even more than he already does." He opens his eyes wide, looking at Stephen with a tenderness that still catches them both off guard. "You told him to go to sleep?"
"I tried. He called me a Magician and made a gesture that he probably learned from you."
Tony laughs again, the sound muffled against Stephen's shoulder. "My legacy lives on."
They are silent for a moment. Only the sound of breathing, the distant hum of the city below.
Tony breaks the silence first, as always.
"Hey... Thanks for coming back."
Stephen frowns slightly. "I always come back."
"I know. But still. Thank you."
Stephen doesn't respond with words. He just pulls Tony closer, slowly kissing his forehead, then his temple, moving down to his mouth. The kiss is slow, lazy, full of everything they don't say aloud.
As they walk away, Tony is smiling in that crooked way that always disarms Stephen.
"You know, for an arrogant ex-surgeon, you're a damn good kisser."
"For a former billionaire playboy with a savior complex, you can be impressively quiet when you want to be."
"touché."
They settle down again, Tony's head nestled against Stephen's chest.
"Sleep, Tony."
"Only if you promise not to disappear back to the Sanctum before breakfast again."
"I promise. Wong can handle the demons for a day."
"Good answer."
Silence returns, a comforting silence. Stephen feels Tony's body truly relax, his weight surrendering to sleep. He doesn't fall asleep right away—he stays there, listening to the rhythmic breathing, feeling the warmth, thinking about how, after everything, this still seems like an improbable miracle.
Stephen closes his eyes.
For the first time in days, he's actually sleeping.