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Chapter Text

He got the call that there had been a fight in Central Park nearly five minutes after it was over.

Not exactly unusual, when it involved Strange and his lot. Their fights had a tendency to disappear into other dimensions before they’d done much damage in this one. Tony stepped away from his project long enough to calculate damages: three trees uprooted and one fountain damaged.

Nothing that the Accords could be too angry about.

Tony sent a text to Strange and Wong to ensure that they were okay and ask if they needed anything in the aftermath and got back to work. He didn’t expect to hear back beyond a ‘we’re fine, it’s fine, we can handle it’. That was the modus operandi, as far as the wizards were concerned, after all. Not that it was going to stop Tony from checking.

Which was why the portal opening up in his lab five minutes later surprised him.

He glanced over to see Strange on the other side of the portal. He raised an eyebrow, taking Strange in. He looked uninjured, as far as Tony could tell. In fact, except for the windswept hair, Strange looked the same as always.

“You guys good?” Tony asked.

“Yes,” Strange said. He stepped through the portal and into Tony’s workshop, the light fizzling away behind him. “Thank you for checking in on us.”

Tony shrugged. “Least I can do,” he said dryly. “Have I finally upgraded from your normal texts to an in-person reassurance?”

Strange didn’t answer immediately, instead moving slowly through the lab to where Tony was.

Tony watched him. There was something vaguely… off about Strange. Though Tony couldn’t even begin to guess what. He and Strange were friendly acquaintances, but not much beyond that. And sure, Tony would enjoy getting to know Strange better, but he’d never caught any indication that Strange felt any interest in becoming anything beyond acquaintances and Tony had never really tried for more.

Strange reached his side and leaned against the edge of the table.

Tony blinked up at him, a little surprised by how close Strange had gotten. “Do you want them?” Strange asked.

“Want what?” Tony asked, distracted.

“Reassurance,” Strange said, reminding Tony of what he’d just said. “Would you like some?”

Tony frowned. He had the sense that he’d missed something in the conversation, but he couldn’t say what. “You know I like to check up on everyone,” Tony said. “That’s why I text every time.”

Strange’s lip quirked up into a smile. “I do appreciate that, you know. I think even Wong does, though he’ll deny it.”

Yeah, Tony doubted that. Wong’s texts—which were the exact same words every time—gave absolutely no indication that he had any particular patience for Tony’s habit of checking in on them. It wasn’t exactly going to stop Tony from asking, because someday he might actually be needed and he’d keep that door open between them, just in case. “Yeah, well, someone’s got to make sure that the resident wizards are alive and well. Someone needs to keep protecting our reality and I’m not signing up for the task.”

Strange’s eyes glinted with amusement. “I’m at your service, Tony.”

Tony laughed. “I’ll remember that.” He gave Strange another once over now that he was closer. There were a few dirt stains on his tunic and pants, but that seemed to be the worst of it. “Looks like you’re fine.”

Strange hummed. “I can prove it, if you like.”

Tony blinked at that, once again feeling a little like he’d missed the shift in conversation. “What?”

Strange shifted even closer. “I can prove it,” Strange murmured. And then he was kissing Tony.

Tony’s mind went completely blank. A strange noise escaped him—a shocked little eep that a playboy of his calibre really shouldn’t be making—but Strange didn’t seem bothered, if the way he kept kissing Tony was any sign.

It took a few moments for Tony’s mind to get back on track and decide how to respond to the unexpected turn of events.

Tony kissed Strange back.

Strange sighed, drawing back a hairs-breadth. “There we go,” he murmured. Tony didn’t have time to respond before Strange was kissing him again. Strange maneuvered them slightly so that Tony was pinned between the table and Strange.

“Stephen!”

The sound of Strange’s name, sharp and demanding, drew Tony out of the kiss. Wong stood on the other side of his own portal, a scowl on his face.

Strange let out an annoyed huff. “Go away, Wong.” He tried to pull Tony back in for another kiss.

Tony resisted. Something about the look on Wong’s face sent alarm bells ringing in Tony’s head. Tony placed his hands on Stephen’s chest, gently pushing.

Strange froze for a moment, but then pulled back, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. He turned to Wong, his own scowl now firmly in place. “You’re interrupting,” he said, a bite in his tone. “Tony and I were busy.”

“I could see that,” Wong said. “You weren’t supposed to leave the Sanctum. We need to figure out how to reverse the spell on you.”

Tony blinked. “Spell?” He glanced at Strange. “You said you were fine.”

“I am,” Strange said. He glared at Wong. “As you can see.”

Wong raised an unimpressed eyebrow, then gestured toward Tony as though that meant something. “Right, because you’re here.”

A twist of unease ran down Tony’s back. “What was the spell? What did it do?” And what did it have to do with Strange being in his lab?

In his lab and kissing him.

Neither Wong nor Strange answered immediately. Strange mostly looked annoyed, but Wong looked suddenly hesitant. Wong didn’t do hesitant, so that was a clear sign that something was up. “What was the spell?” Tony repeated. “What did it do?”

“It is the Rite of Mhezin,” Wong said finally. “It removes a person’s inhibitions.”

It took a moment for Tony’s brain to put together the pieces of what that meant; he immediately jerked a few feet back, crashing his hip into the table in his haste. His gaze darted to Strange. Strange who had just kissed him, when he’d shown no signs of ever wanting something like that before. Shit. Shit. Shit. Tony should have realized something was wrong.    

“Shit,” he hissed. “I didn’t mean to take adv—”

Strange sent Wong a dark look. “You didn’t take advantage,” Strange said, tone annoyed. “I wanted to kiss you, so I did.”

“You’re...” Tony searched for the right word. “You’re compromised,” he finally landed on. “Spell drunk. Bespelled. Enchan—”

“Calm yourself, Stark,” Wong said. “You did nothing wrong. Strange wasn’t supposed to leave the Sanctum. You certainly would have no way of knowing that Stephen is…”

“Completely in my right mind,” Strange interrupted, annoyance growing sharper. “The Rite of Mhezin doesn’t make a person do anything they don’t want to do. I wanted to kiss Tony, so I did.”

Wong sighed. “Stephen, we need to try to reverse the spell.”

“There’s no point,” Strange said. “We both know that the Rite of Mhezin doesn’t have a reversal. It’s permanent.”

Alarm coursed through Tony. “Wait, what?”

Strange turned back to him. The annoyance on his face disappeared. “It’s nothing to be concerned with,” Strange said, he shifted closer again, closing the gap that Tony had put between them. “It’s perfectly manageable.” His hand found its way to Tony’s hip. Tony shivered. “I promise, Tony, I didn’t do anything I didn’t want.”

“Stephen,” Wong said, tone curt. “Please return to the Sanctum.”

Strange didn’t move, gaze fixed on Tony. Tony swallowed. “Wong seems worried about you,” he said. “Maybe you should go back to the Sanctum with him.”

That made Strange pause. “Do you want me to?” he asked. There was something in his tone that set Tony on edge.

He chose his words carefully. “Strange, you know that your wellbeing is something I worry about,” he said. “You’ve been… cursed. That’s not a good thing.”

“It’s not a curse, really,” Strange said. He stepped back, though. “I’d like to come back,” he said. “Once Wong realizes that there’s nothing that can be done. I don’t think we’ve… finished our conversation.”

Tony glanced at Wong, trying to figure out how to respond to that.

Wong sighed, rubbing at his face. “He didn’t do anything he didn’t want to do,” Wong said finally. “So long as you don’t mind his advances, then there’s no reason for concern.”

It didn’t seem quite that simple. Tony couldn’t help but think that he was somehow taking advantage of Strange. Strange hadn’t ever seemed interested before, but, well, the kiss was hard to deny. Strange was clearly interested now.

“Please, Tony,” Strange said quietly.

Tony nodded. “Of course,” he said finally. “Once Wong gives you the all clear, you can come back and we can… finish our conversation.”

Satisfaction flickered in Strange’s eyes. “Good.” He leaned forward and pressed another kiss to Tony’s lips. “I’ll be back, shortly,” he told Tony. He turned, striding quickly to Wong and through the portal.

Wong sent Tony an inscrutable look before shutting the portal.

Tony stared at where the two had been, then shook his head. “Did that really just happen?” he asked.

“If you mean, did Doctor Strange truly kiss you only to be interrupted by Master Wong appearing via portal to inform you that Doctor Strange has currently had his inhibitions removed, then yes,” FRIDAY told him. “That really happened.”

“Right.” He ran a hand over his face. “You know what. I’m just going to operate under the assumption that Wong is going to figure this out and that Strange is going to be so embarrassed by everything that he just did that I won’t see him again until the next world-is-ending crisis.”

FRIDAY didn’t answer immediately. “If you say so, Boss,” she said finally. “But I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”

Yeah, Tony didn’t either. He remembered Strange asserting that there was no fixing what had happened to him. That the Rite of Messin, or whatever that had been called, was permanent.

It couldn’t be, though, right? Broken things were supposed to be fixable. Curses were supposed to have cures. Sure, Tony wouldn’t exactly call himself an optimist, but… well, he had to believe, because other wise the world was simply… terrifying.

Despite his best attempts, Tony found it almost impossible to get his brain to focus back on the project he was currently working on—a better solar power grid system to avoid the potential for grid overload and collapse. No, his brain was trapped on the fact that Strange had kissed him.

He threw in the towel an hour later when he realized he’d made no progress. “Right. We’ll deal with this tomorrow. We don’t have any deadlines, right?”

“You owe Miss Potts new schematics for the updated water purifier by Friday,” FRIDAY told him.

Friday. Tony glanced at his watch. It was Wednesday, Tony could deal with that tomorrow. Though really, that should be low-priority enough to have ended up with R&D instead of ending up on his plate. “Great,” he said, not meaning it. “Put it on the itinerary for tomorrow.”

“Will do, Boss.”

Tony left the lab and headed to his rooms in the compound. It was late enough that Tony figured it wouldn’t be too disruptive to his schedule for him to relax in the shower and then go to bed in order to try to forget the whole thing with Strange had even happened.

The warm water running over him helped to diffuse some of his stress and he let himself relax. Fifteen minutes later, he turned off the water, running his hands through his now clean hair. He stepped out of the shower.

Strange was waiting for him, leaning against the bathroom counter.

A startled yelp escaped Tony; he stumbled back. He heel caught on the edge of the shower cubicle and he careened backward. “Shit!”

The cloak caught him before Tony could do anything as disgraceful as bash his head open against the tile.

“Strange!” The cloak helped him straighten, mostly protecting his dignity while an edge came out and grabbed Tony a towel from the nearby rack. Tony took it gratefully, wrapping it around him. “What the hell?”

Strange’s gaze was heated where it trailed over Tony’s exposed skin—of which there was a lot. “I said I’d be back,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to be in the shower.”

Tony spluttered. “And you just…” He ran a hand over his face. “You just waited? In my bathroom?”

“I could have gotten into the shower with you,” Strange said, as though that was a completely reasonable thing to do. “After an analysis of our current relationship, I determined that that wasn’t something you’d be comfortable with.”

Tony stared at him. Right, no inhibitions. Tony really hadn’t considered what that might mean—even if he had, he didn’t think he’d have considered the risk of Strange joining him in the shower—but it clearly was more extensive than Tony had considered.

“Good analysis,” Tony managed. “I’m not ready for you to be joining me in the shower.”

Strange nodded. “I thought we could work up to that.”

Tony closed his eyes. “Why don’t you… wait for me in the kitchen,” he said finally. “I need to get dressed.”

Strange didn’t move immediately, his gaze hot where it rested on Tony. He was probably running another analysis, Tony figured. Propriety certainly wasn’t swaying him, but some sort of logical equation Tony hadn’t been read in on.

“All right,” Strange said finally. He moved to the door, the cloak following after him.

Tony waited until he heard his bedroom door open and shut before following out of the bathroom and slipping into his walk-in closet. He dried and changed quickly. After Strange having seen Tony naked, there really wasn’t any point in trying to impress, so Tony threw on the first pair of sweats he could find and a t-shirt.

He made his way out of his bedroom and to the living space. Strange was standing near the window, looking out onto the lawn and the trees beyond.

Tony examined him for a moment. “Tea?” he asked. Because he needed some sort of distraction. “Coffee?”

“Tea would be appreciated,” Stephen said, turning back towards him. His gaze flickered over Tony the same way they had in the bathroom; Tony felt his cheeks warm at the reminder of how Strange had found him a few minutes ago.

Tony focused on getting the kettle on the stove. He jumped when he turned to find Strange just behind him. “You’re not much for personal space, are you?” Tony asked, somewhat resigned. He hadn’t even heard Strange approach.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Strange asked, an amused tilt to his lips. “I didn’t think you’d mind. You enjoy closeness. I can… recalculate, if you’d like.”

Tony examined him, doing his own calculations. He was, unfortunately, missing more than a few variables in the situation. In the end, he skipped responding. “I take it Wong wasn’t able to reverse the spell?” Tony asked. Strange certainly acted like normal societal restrictions were suddenly optional.

“No,” Strange said. “But I already knew he wouldn’t be able to. It’s a powerful spell, the Rite of Mhezin. It doesn’t hide or obscure a person’s inhibitions, it strips them away.” Strange shrugged. “There’s a chance that socialization will help me to create new… restrictions, but for now, I’m… free.”

Tony felt mildly skeptical about that. Though whether it was the likelihood of Strange creating new inhibitions or the idea that the lack of inhibitions made Strange ‘free’ he wasn’t sure. “Right.”

Strange moved closer; Tony found himself backed against the kitchen counter. Strange’s hands came to each side of him, pinning him in. “I’d really like to kiss you again,” Strange said, words only a murmur. “Wong interrupted us the first time.”

Tony rested his hands on Stephen’s chest, a gentle restraint that Strange didn’t seem to have any problems accepting. It was something of a relief. Strange might not have inhibitions anymore, but he did apparently still have control. “Don’t you think we should talk about that, first?” Tony said. He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not exactly—”

“I am perfectly within my right mind,” Stephen countered before Tony could even finish the argument. “Some might say I’m more in my right mind than ever.”

Yeah, Tony doubted that a lot. He’d found Strange waiting right outside his shower. Strange in his right mind definitely wouldn’t have been doing that. “You have to admit that this is… sudden,” Tony said slowly. “I didn’t have even an inkling that you had any interest in me before today.”

Strange didn’t answer immediately, that calculating expression back on his face. “I thought it would be best to let you adjust to being without Miss Potts before I made any move,” Strange said finally. “And I didn’t want to risk frightening you away before then.” A fear Strange no longer seemed to have, Tony noted wryly. He’d made his interest very clear. “Remaining in the periphery of your life until it felt safer to broach a change in our relationship felt like the best course of action, at the time.”

“Right.” He examined Strange, trying to get a measure of him. Strange had always been difficult to read, however, and his sudden lack of inhibitions hadn’t actually made reading him any easier. “Not a concern of yours, now.”

“I can still understand the calculus that led to my earlier decisions,” Strange acknowledged with a shrug. “But I can see now that fear of rejection was a motivating factor.” Strange leaned closer; his voice lowered. “The way you kissed me earlier, though… I don’t have to fear rejection, do I, Tony?”

Tony licked his lips, bizarrely nervous. It was an unusual feeling for him given the circumstances. Tony was used to being on equal footing in these situations—if not the one with the advantage—but Strange had him on the back foot. “I admit it was… enjoyable,” Tony said slowly. “I don’t know that I would have kissed you if I’d known you were under a spell.”

Strange sighed. “Tony, I’m not ‘under a spell’; my actions are my own. Wong already told you, you did nothing wrong. I’m very sincere in my advances.” Strange somehow closed the space between them even further; they were chest to chest, now. Strange’s head was tilted just so, so that they were breathing the same air. “Tony, let me kiss you, again.”

The memory of the kiss from before tried to intrude. It had been… good. Very good. But that didn’t mean that Tony should let it happen again. “You swear?” he asked. “You swear this isn’t some… compulsion?”

Victory flashed through Strange’s eyes, impossible to miss from this close. “I swear.” He didn’t wait for Tony to say anything further, clearly having taken the question as some degree of permission, because he was kissing Tony again.

It was slower than Tony had expected it to be. With how determined Strange had been to kiss him and the lack of inhibitions, Tony had expected that it would be a kiss fueled by passion. Instead it felt as though Strange was trying to dissect the moment, to evaluate just what Tony liked and wanted.

Strange’s lips moved against his, tender and careful and after a time Tony found his need to analyze it all fading under the careful application of pleasure.

The whistle of the kettle jerked Tony out of the moment. The sound cut off, sharp and sudden, and Tony turned to see that the stove had been turned off and the kettle moved off the heat with nothing more than a wave of Strange’s hand.

“That’s conven—”

Strange kissed him again before he could finish. “You know what’s truly convenient?” Strange asked once he’d pulled away several moments later. “Our proximity to your bed.”

Tony froze, pulling back. “Strange. You’re…”

“Very, very interested in making love to you,” Strange murmured gently. “Though if that’s an emotional depth that’s a step too far for you, I’ll settle for fucking you.”

Tony flushed. More at the making love than anything. Sex was hardly something Tony was a stranger to. “Strange. I really think…” He didn’t know how to finish that. “I think we need to move slowly,” he said finally. “You may be in your right mind, but this way of thinking is still an adjustment for you. You might find you want something different after… further analysis of your situation.”

Strange laughed; it was a warm sound. “Tony, wanting you isn’t new.”

Tony shook his head. “Strange—”

“Stephen.”

That threw Tony for a moment, but he recovered. “Stephen,” he corrected. “This is new for me. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a one night stand, and—”

“I’m not going to be a one night stand,” Stephen said. There was a note to his voice, something sharp. “That’s not what I’m here for.”

“Right,” Tony said slowly, because Stephen made it sound like something happening was a foregone conclusion, when it very much was not. “That’s why we need to move a little slower.”

Stephen examined him for a long moment, and Tony could see that analysis going on in his head again. “All right,” Stephen said. “You set the pace.”

Tony pulled back. “Tea,” he said. “I think… I think we need to take a step back for the evening. We can have tea, talk, and then we can figure the rest of this out.”

Stephen obediently stepped back. Tony breathed out in relief; the reminder that Stephen had control, but that he was simply operating without the normal hesitations or restrictions that people placed on themselves. “I’ll make the tea,” Stephen said. “If I let you do it, all we’ll have is leaf water. There’s an art to this sort of thing, you know.”

Tony huffed a laugh. “Okay, yeah, that’s valid.”

He settled at the counter as Stephen started preparing their tea. He just watched. Stephen moved with smooth assurance, and it occurred to Tony only after Stephen had set the tea to steep that he had never told Stephen which cupboard held the mugs or the tea bags that he had kept mostly for Pepper’s sake—not that she was around to use them, anymore.

“I’ve been here before,” Stephen said.

Tony startled at the words, drawn from his thoughts. “What?”

Stephen raised an eyebrow. “You were getting that look in your eyes, trying to figure out how I know what I do. But you’ve brought me to the compound before. We often used it as a base to plan for the fight against Thanos in those 14 million lives. I know my way around.”

Some of Tony’s tension eased. “I suppose that’s how you also know ‘that look’, then?”

“I’ve been on the end of it, before,” Stephen acknowledged. He sent Tony a wry smile. “I’ve also been on the opposite side of your attempts to make tea, hence, the desire to avoid your leaf water concoction.”

Tony made a face at him. “I’m a coffee drinker.”

Stephen hummed. “I’ll convert you. Starting by getting you better tea blends.”

It was tea, Tony didn’t think there was any such thing as a good blend, no matter what certain people professed. Stephen smirked at him, as though he knew exactly what Tony was thinking and fully intended to prove him wrong.

It didn’t take long for the tea to steep, and Stephen removed the tea bags and prepared both cups. The cloak picked up the fuller cup, handing it to Tony so that Stephen didn’t have to try to balance the cup himself.

Tony took it, murmuring a thank you to the cloak.

He took a sip. It was… fine, he supposed. Better than his own attempts would be, at least. “What happened, today?” he asked.

“It was a rogue sorcerer,” Stephen answered immediately. “They were attempting to harness the power of the demon Aphicus. We interrupted their summoning. They fought back. I believe they were attempting to divide our focus by turning one of us into a ‘villain’; they misunderstood the purpose of the spell they used. It doesn’t remove one’s goals or motivations; mine continue to be to protect the earth. It simply removes some of the restraint that we often use. I had been assisting a fallen sorcerer and was caught off guard.”

Tony considered that. “Did you kill them?” he asked.

“No,” Stephen said. “They are currently within the dungeons of Kamar Taj. Though, I can acknowledge that the task would have been easier for my conscience to handle, should it have come to that.” For a moment something that looked like genuine uncertainty crossed Stephen’s face. Everything else, so far, had indicated an almost casual disregard to his sudden lack of inhibitions—possibly an effect of the spell itself—but apparently there was some part of Stephen that noted the difference in his thought process and mindset and found it distressing.

“I can’t imagine Wong has resigned himself to not being able to help you.” Wong didn’t seem like the sort to just… give up. Honestly, Tony was more surprised that Stephen had.

Stephen rolled his eyes. “No, he’s holed himself up in the library, researching.”

“Why haven’t you?” Tony asked quietly. “Surely you want—”

“Tony,” Stephen interrupted. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

Tony pursed his lips, but nodded. He turned his attention to his tea for a minute. He could feel the weight of Stephen’s gaze on him. He glanced up, and sure enough, Stephen’s gaze was intently focused on him. “You’re kind of intense, aren’t you?” Tony asked wryly. “Is that a you thing or an effect of the spell?”

Stephen’s lip quirked up in a smile. “There’s a reason I was hesitant to get too close in the immediate aftermath of you and Miss Potts breaking up, Tony. I’ve been warned my intensity can be… off-putting. Of course, I’d have had to deal with it at some point, but I didn’t want to throw that at you in the immediate aftermath of your break up. If you recall, it happened only a short time after Titan, there was no real time between.”

Pepper had not taken Tony’s trip to space well. She had asked him to come back. Had asked him not to climb on that ship and Tony hadn’t listened. In the aftermath Pepper had told him that she loved him, but that this was always going to be who he was and she was fooling herself if she pretended she would be happy in that life.

It had hurt, but Tony hadn’t… well he hadn’t really been surprised, either. It probably said something about their relationship, probably said that Pepper was right to end them. But that hadn’t stopped it from hurting.

Still, it did bring up any number of questions. “You’re saying you’ve wanted to kiss me since Titan?”

Stephen’s smile was far too enticing, and his gaze seemed to bore straight into Tony’s soul. “Oh, most certainly.”

Heat flushed through him, because intense was somewhat understating the matter. Tony hummed; he didn’t have a better response to the declaration, especially since he had yet to figure out how he felt about it. They hadn’t known each other well, then, but they had gone through a traumatic experience together which could encourage stronger emotions. “Have you considered that—”

“I am very certain in my regard for you,” Stephen interrupted. “This isn’t some half-thought out impulse caused by experiencing trauma together. This is…” He paused. “Devotion.”

Tony’s heart pounded in his chest. “Good to know,” he managed, not sure what else he could possibly say to that. Devotion.

What. The. Hell.

“How well do you even—”

“Know you?” Stephen finished. “I lived 14 million timelines with you, Tony. I know you very, very well.”

Well, that sounded definitive. And like Stephen either knew Tony well enough to guess what he’d been about to say, 14 million timelines would do that, or that someone else—likely Wong, who hadn’t seemed particularly surprised to see Stephen in Tony’s lab kissing him—had already tried to bring the matter up enough for Stephen to be annoyed by it.

But Stephen had been hit by a spell. “Stephen, are you sure you—”

Stephen leaned in, pulling Tony in for a kiss. He tasted like tea and felt like… Tony moaned into the kiss, because Stephen was taking him over entirely, using tricks that had to have been learned in all those timelines, because it was exactly how Tony liked to be kissed. No, it was more than Tony had ever had before, as though Stephen had unlocked secrets Tony hadn’t even known.

It felt like devotion.

Stephen pulled back a few minutes later and Tony felt fuzzy. It took him a moment to remember what he’d been saying.

“I’m very sure,” Stephen said. “Please, Tony. I want this. I’ve wanted this since the very beginning. What happened with the Rite of Mhezin just gave me the courage I needed to try and take it.” He stole another kiss, as though he was trying to give Tony extra incentive. Tony really wished it wasn’t working as well as it was.

Still, Tony hesitated. “We need to go slowly,” Tony said finally. Because for all that Stephen said there was no cure, he wanted to give Wong time to at least look.

Relief crossed Stephen’s face. “You set the pace,” he agreed.

This time Tony leaned in for a kiss. “Then yes,” he said when he pulled back. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake, that he wasn’t taking advantage, that he wasn’t doing something he couldn’t come back from. “We can see where this goes.”

Chapter Text

“I thought you’d show up,” Wong said, a quiet sort of exhaustion in his tone. Just as the words had implied, Wong didn’t seem surprised to see Tony on the doorstep of the Sanctum. Before Stephen had left last night, he’d apologetically said he’d likely be busy today. Which worked fine for Tony, that gave him time to interrogate Wong.

“Yeah, well.” Tony shrugged. Stephen had said he didn’t want to talk about his situation, but that didn’t mean Tony didn’t want to hear about it. Didn’t need to hear about it. If Stephen didn’t want to talk, then Wong would have to do. “I need answers about what’s going on with Strange. He’s…” Tony blew out a breath of air. “Been very forthright about what he wants.” Very, very forthright with what he wanted. He wanted Tony. Stephen’s words echoed in his mind, ‘this is devotion.’ “But I’m not—”

“Come in,” Wong interrupted. “I don’t particularly want to have this conversation in the doorway.”

Neither did Tony. He stepped into the Sanctum as Wong stepped back and followed Wong through the foyer and down a hallway. Wong led him into a sitting room with two austere armchairs in the middle of the room. Despite the austere armchairs, the room was strangely cozy, two walls covered by large, ground to ceiling bookshelves, a large window looking out onto the street on the third wall, and a fireplace on the final wall with a cool, flickering blue fire. Huh. Weird.

Wong gestured for Tony to take a seat.

Tony obeyed. He was a little surprised to find the austere looking armchair to be genuinely comfortable. It certainly hadn’t looked like it would be.

“So,” Tony said, when Wong sat across from him. “Strange.” He paused, then corrected himself. “Stephen. Kinda likes me.” Understatement of the century. “That’s new.”

Wong didn’t respond immediately, just watching Tony for a long moment. “You want to know if he’s genuine,” Wong said finally, cutting to the chase.

His tone was hard to read. Tony found he couldn’t decipher what Wong was thinking. He couldn’t help but remember that Wong had figured out exactly where Stephen had gone yesterday very, very quickly. Wong had known Stephen would come to Tony. “He certainly seems genuine,” Tony acknowledged. “But given there’s magic involved, you’ll forgive me my concern.”

“He does want you. If that’s the concern. He’s wanted you for quite some time. Nothing about the spell altered his actual emotions.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. That didn’t felt entirely accurate. “He was afraid I’d reject him, then suddenly wasn’t. Sounds like an emotional alteration.”

“The fear wasn’t gone,” Wong corrected. “Just the engrained reaction most of us have to letting fear sway us. One might say he lined up his fear and desire and rationally dissected which emotion would give him what he wanted.” Wong arched an eyebrow. “Which I’m sure you don’t need me to spell out is you.” No, Tony didn’t need that spelled out. “Between the fear and desire, the desire won.”

Tony pursed his lips. He didn’t know how to feel about any of this.

Stephen’s words from last night came back to him. This is devotion.

“Is there really no way to reverse what happened to him?” Tony asked. “Shouldn’t these things have cures?”

“Does dementia have a cure?” Wong asked.

Comparing this to dementia was not comforting. Nor was it the same thing. He said as much. “Dementia has natural causes; it isn’t caused by some guy with a desire to summon demons.”

Wong arched an eyebrow. “Magic itself is natural,” Wong pointed out. “Beyond that, you know very well humans cause damage that cannot be repaired all the time.”

Tony had no good retort for that. It was true, after all. Still, it left a pit in his stomach. Wong truly did seem to believe there was no quick fix to this. No long fix, either, for that matter.

“So he’s just… like this now.”

Wong sighed. “He’s still Stephen,” he said. “You didn’t know him well, perhaps, but he is still himself. Just… less restrained. Beyond that, he’s not incapable of learning or developing new inhibitions,” Wong said. “Had you rejected him, fear of rejection would have regained some of its natural intensity. But the natural and previously learned restraints he had are quite thoroughly gone.”

Tony ran a hand over his face. “How am I not taking advantage of him?” he asked. “He’s not in his right mind.” A hoarse laugh escaped him. “He genuinely considered getting into the shower with me.”

That made Wong grimace. “I didn’t need that information,” he muttered. “But I should point out that whether he considered it or not, he didn’t.”

“Because he ‘analyzed’ our relationship and determined I wouldn’t be comfortable with that!” The words came out closer to hysterical than he wanted. It was just so… absurd. That wasn’t something that should need analysis!

“Is it so strange to share that sort of intimacy with someone you foster sexual and romantic attraction for?” Wong asked. “Are you suggesting you never joined someone in the shower after you’d shared a night with them?”

“That’s not the same thing,” Tony argued.

Wong shrugged. “Is it not? You would have thought nothing of it had you and Stephen slept together. His feelings for you go far beyond what a night together would elicit. He recognized you did not feel the same and didn’t take action. True, it took more reasoning than normal; natural inhibitions would have left it as nothing more than a passing thought. But the results were the same.”

Minus the part where Stephen had waited in his bathroom. Tony didn’t want to get that detailed, though. Wong already knew far too much about this whole situation. Hell, in a lot of ways, Wong knew more than Tony did.

At the same time, Tony acknowledged Wong had a point about the shower incident. If he and Stephen had had any sort of physical relationship beyond their—at the time—single kiss, Tony wouldn’t have thought twice about Stephen in the shower with him. And according to both Wong and Stephen himself, the way Stephen felt for him went beyond that.

“This is so messed up,” Tony muttered, burying his face in his hands as though that would fix anything. It wouldn’t. He looked up at Wong again, unable to stop himself from asking again. “There’s really no way to… fix him?”

“I have not given up on looking,” Wong admitted. “But I admit, I don’t have a great deal of hope.”

Definitely not what Tony wanted to hear. “Why doesn’t he care?” Tony asked. “How can he not care?”

Wong shrugged. “Stephen has always been rational. In some ways his new situation is merely an accentuated version of his old mannerisms. It’s not the same, true, he calls this new viewpoint the calculus of the universe.” Wong ran a hand over his face. “For the most part I expect he’ll follow his old, engrained patterns. Not because of any inhibition, but because they have worked for him in the past. But when he needs to, he’ll fall back on stark rationality and simple calculus.” Wong examined Tony. “Likewise and conversely, he feels his own emotions more strongly, as though the barriers he’s built have been torn down. There’s freedom in that. Relief.”

That sounded terrifying, actually, and yet at the same time Tony thought he understood. “What do I do?” Tony asked.

That made Wong’s nose wrinkle in disgruntlement. “You’re asking me for advice on your romantic entanglement with my friend?” he asked. “Seriously?”

“There is no entanglement,” Tony muttered. Except there was, wasn’t there? Stephen certainly seemed entangled in Tony and Tony had agreed to give it a shot, hadn’t he?

And how hard would it be to get tangled up himself in Stephen? Tony knew that when he fell for someone, he fell hard. Not that Tony knew for certain he was going to fall. …and that would be messy in its own way.

What the hell was Tony getting himself involved in?

Wong scoffed at Tony’s denial of entanglement, then sighed. “He loves you,” Wong said. “I don’t think you understand how much. Not yet. You would make him happy and I do want him to be happy.”

Tony didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d never seemed to make anyone happy before, not long term at least. Yet Stephen had known him in 14 million timelines and somehow still wanted Tony. Though Tony couldn’t imagine those timelines had contained much in terms of a normal, mundane life—as normal as either his or Stephen’s lives would ever get. Maybe Stephen’s feelings would falter when they met the mundanity of real life.

“I told him we could give this a shot,” Tony admitted. This is devotion echoed in his mind again. Tony hadn’t been able to resist that, hadn’t been able to resist Stephen.

“I did assume,” Wong said. “He returned to the Sanctum quite pleased last night.” There was a strange look in Wong’s eyes as he looked at Tony, that same difficult-to-read expression on his face.

Tony had one last question. “I told him we needed to take this slow. He said that he’d follow my pace.” He pursed his lips. “Will he be able to manage that?”

Wong snorted. “When necessary, Stephen can have near-infinite patience. If you’re looking to keep things slow, he’s not the question. The question is will you be able to manage it?” he asked. Tony blinked in confusion, would he? What sort of question was that? But Wong continued before Tony could ask. “When Stephen is offering you everything you might ever want, will you be able to remember you ‘need to take this slow’?”

“I’m capable of restraint,” Tony argued.

“Then you won’t have any problems,” Wong said. He sounded skeptical. As though he didn’t think Tony really was capable of resisting Stephen. 

Tony was offended.

Still, he’d gotten the answers he needed. He pushed himself to his feet. “Thanks for the answers, Wong.”

Wong stood as well. “Of course.” He eyed Tony, gaze scrutinizing and thoughtful. “Be careful with him, Stark.”

“I’m trying to be,” Tony said. Trying to be careful with Stephen was one of the reasons he’d needed to talk to Wong.

“Be careful with yourself, too,” Wong added.

Tony eyed him. “Is he likely to hurt me?”

Wong shrugged. “Devoted as he may be to you, you are both still human with all the complications that come with that,” he said. “He’d never do anything with the intention of hurting you. That doesn’t mean you won’t end up hurt.”

That was fair enough. No one out there could guarantee a hurt free relationship. Tony nodded. “Thanks for the answers, Wong.”

He left the room, retracing his steps and heading toward the exit. His brain twisted over his conversation with Wong as he went. He’d never once considered that he might not be able to restrain himself around Stephen. Though, given Stephen’s intensity and the way he could overwhelm Tony with just a kiss, maybe he should have. Tony wasn’t exactly known for restraint and Stephen had proved to be… tempting.

It took him a few minutes, caught in his head as he was, to realize he hadn’t reached the exit yet when he really should have. Had he gone the wrong direction? He stopped in the middle of the hallway, frowning. “Uh, Wong?” he called. There was no response. He glanced at the walls on either side of him. He was pretty sure he’d gone the right direction, but clearly he hadn’t. He turned, heading back the way he’d come.

Despite backtracking the way he’d come, the sitting room he’d been in didn’t appear and nor did the exit. “Seriously?” What was this? “Wong?” he called again. Because it was clear he wasn’t getting out of here on his own. He eyed the hallways. This was the wizard’s’ lair, which meant magic. He hadn’t considered that that might include the building itself. “Okay, look, I need to go, and I’m pretty sure you’re the reason I’m not getting there.”

There was nothing, but Tony hoped the words had done some good and he started down the hallway again.

“Tony?”

Tony turned at the sound of Stephen’s voice, surprised to find Stephen there. Stephen seemed just as surprised to see him, though his smile was warm and genuine. 

“Hey Stephen. Your Sanctum’s got me a bit turned around,” Tony said, a little exasperated.

Stephen sent the walls an amused look. “It does that, sometimes.” He moved closer. “Though I think I should thank it. I just got back and I might have missed you if you hadn’t gotten a bit turned around.” He didn’t bother with anything close to employing a personal bubble, ending right in Tony’s space and wrapping an arm around Tony’s back and tugging him in close to kiss him.

Tony kissed back, even as his mind flickered back to Wong’s skepticism that Tony could resist Stephen. The thought was enough to pull him out of the kiss, though he didn’t try to pull out of Stephen’s gentle embrace. “I’m going to guess that’s why I couldn’t find the exit,” Tony mused. “Or maybe your Sanctum doesn’t like me.”

“The Sanctum will love you,” Stephen said easily. “I do, after all.”

That easy, huh? “So it just does what you want?”

“It certainly takes my desires into account,” Stephen acknowledged. “And it knows you’re rather accepting of sentience in unusual forms.”

Sentience. Tony wouldn’t have quite gone that far in his estimation of what the Sanctum was, but it was good to know. “Like the cloak?”

The cloak fluttered a little, clearly pleased at being acknowledged. “Yes,” Stephen said smiling brightly, clearly just as pleased as the cloak at Tony recognizing it. “I should inform you the Cloak also likes you.”

“Because you like me?” Tony asked. “Feels like I’m cheating.”

“That helps,” Stephen said. “But you forget, the cloak also spent 14 million time loops with you. You make quite the impression.”

Tony blinked, he had never considered that. It was one thing to think Stephen had known him through 14 million variations, but to think the cloak had, too, was somehow baffling. “I’m glad you weren’t alone,” he said after a moment, choosing to focus on that over a sentient cloak’s apparent attachment to him.

Stephen’s smile turned tender. “The cloak may be the reason I’m still mostly sane,” he acknowledged. “It would have been far harder to experience 14 million loops alone.”

The cloak’s lapel brushed Stephen’s cheek gently. Tony smiled at it. He hadn’t had much exposure to the cloak before now. He’d noted the sentience fairly quickly—it really was a loyal piece of outerwear—but if he hadn’t seen it before, the gentleness, the obvious adoration, made it clear now.

“Well, I look forward to getting to know it… them? now.”

“Either works,” Stephen said. “They’re not picky on pronouns.”

Good to know. “So, now that you’ve seen me, thanks to your Sanctum making me wander the halls for a good thirty minutes, I don’t suppose it’ll show me the way out?”

“In a hurry to leave?” Stephen asked, hold tightening around Tony’s waist for a moment as though he didn’t want to let Tony go. It was instinct for Tony to pull back slightly, just to check Stephen’s control. Stephen immediately loosened his hold, enough that Tony didn’t feel the need to prove anything by pulling completely out of Stephen’s hold. “I assume you came to interrogate Wong about my situation,” Stephen continued.

Tony paused, but he supposed there was no point in hiding it. “You didn’t want to talk about it last night, but there were some things I still needed to know. I didn’t want to push you.”

Stephen nodded in acknowledgment. “Are you satisfied with what you learned?” he asked. “Assured I really want you?”

“I was already rather certain you really wanted me,” Tony pointed out. “You were very convincing last night.” His gaze flickered despite his best intentions to Stephen’s lips—this is devotion echoed in his head—before he forcibly made himself look away. “But I needed to know I wasn’t taking advantage and you aren’t the best source for that.”

Something flickered in Stephen’s eyes. Not quite concern, not quite calculation, but something. “And Wong reassured you properly?”

Tony hummed in agreement. “Yes,” he said. “I’m not going back on what I said last night, Stephen. I’m willing to give this a shot.” He licked his lip, part anxiety and part anticipation. “You make a very compelling argument.” This time when his gaze flickered to Stephen’s lips, it was entirely on purpose. 

The way Stephen leaned in to kiss Tony made it pretty clear Stephen picked up on Tony’s intent. Tony melted into the kiss, letting Stephen pull him closer again for a proper kiss.

He sighed into it, enjoying it for perhaps a moment longer than he should. Finally he pulled away, lips tingling. “I really do need to go, Stephen. I don’t suppose your Sanctum will let me go?”

“It certainly doesn’t want to,” Stephen countered. “It’d keep you forever, if you let it.”

Tony arched an eyebrow, because that was not exactly comforting. “I don’t do well with being kept,” he said. “Even, maybe especially, by magical buildings, sentient or not.”

Stephen just laughed. “Yes,” he said. “The Sanctum will let you go. But let me escort you.”

As long as Tony got out of here. He really hadn’t planned on being here as long as he had been. He did have things he needed to do today, fires to put out. “That’d be appreciated.”

They made it to the door quickly from wherever the Sanctum had taken Tony and Stephen stole another kiss, just a little on the steamy side, as though Stephen needed to leave an impression before he let Tony out the door. “Can I come see you tonight?” Stephen asked when he finally pulled back.

“I don’t—” Tony hesitated for a moment, then realized that if this was a normal relationship—if there had been no spell involved, making Tony overthink everything—that he’d have accepted the request without thought. It was normal to spend time with each other. “That’d be great,” Tony said. “Dinner?”

“As long as you’re not cooking,” Stephen teased. 

“You don’t like my cooking?” Tony asked, faking affront. Stephen was clearly a very smart man. Or just a rational one. Tony didn’t like his own cooking. “Well, then. I see how this is.” There was a reason he had a personal chef.

“I will eat all your overly-seasoned chicken tacos mixed with slightly burned rice in a heartbeat,” Stephen said, so startlingly genuine. “But I admit, it won’t win my food of preference any time soon.”

Tony laughed. “All right. All right. I’ll order something in. Do you have preference in that?”

“Surprise me,” Stephen said.

“Can I?” Tony asked, genuinely curious. With how well Stephen claimed to know him, how often would Tony actually be capable of surprising Stephen? Not just with Tony’s food preferences, but with everything else? At the same time, Tony couldn’t imagine 14 million timelines of fighting Thanos and dealing with alien invasions involved all that much food delivery. “Or do you already know my tendencies?”

Stephen smirked. “Tony, even when I know everything about you, you still find ways to surprise me.”

Well, that was very good to know. “Good. I’d hate to ever be boring.”

“Never,” Stephen promised him, letting go of Tony. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Tonight,” Tony agreed, before stepping out of the Sanctum and heading to his car. He could feel Stephen’s gaze on him the whole time. Tony only glanced back when he slid into his car, and sure enough, Stephen was watching him still. Tony gave a jaunty wave before sliding into the driver’s seat.

The rest of the day went far less smoothly than his morning, even considering being trapped in the Sanctum for half an hour. By the time Tony had finished putting out fire after fire, some literal, between SI and the Avengers, neither of which was fair—Tony wasn’t CEO or leader of the Avengers—he was exhausted. Tony forego any attempts to be tricky with his dinner order, just to see if he could surprise Stephen, and instead chose comfort food. Pasta.

The compound was a little—a lot—out of L’artusi’s delivery range, but it was amazing what the promise of an absolutely fantastic tip would get you.

By the time Stephen stepped through his portal and into Tony’s living space, casually dressed and cloak surprisingly absent, the room smelled of alfredo, cacio e pepe, roasted mushrooms, and steak.

Stephen inhaled deeply. His brow immediately furrowed. “Bad day?” he asked.

Tony arched an eyebrow. How often had Tony ordered L’artuisi’s for comfort food in 14 million timelines? “Not the best,” Tony acknowledged. “People are idiots.”

“An unfortunate truth.” Stephen stepped closer. “Allow me to make it better.” He leaned in for a long, simmering kiss, before pulling back. “I know just the documentary to go with our frankly fantastic pasta.”

The words made Tony blink, utterly blindsided. “A documentary?” he asked. If he was honest, he’d expected Stephen to suggest sex. Tony would have been tempted. It’d been that sort of day, and Stephen had to know that would improve his chances. So why was Stephen suggesting a documentary? “Really?” 

He was sure there were some enjoyable documentaries out there, there were none he imagined would make a notable improvement to an honestly awful day. He could only imagine he’d willingly choose a documentary to please someone else.

“Blood and Thunder: Sound of Alberts,” Stephen said. A wry smile crossed his face. “I admit the emergence of hard rock in Australia is not my own documentary of choice, I suspect—” the way he said suspect, sounded a lot more like know, “—you’ll quite enjoy it.”

Tony found his eyes widening. “AC/DC?” he asked.

“They’re most certainly a highlighted feature, alongside the Easybeats,” Stephen said. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”

AC/DC, the Easybeats, and rock 'n' roll history? Sign Tony up. “Keep it up and I’m going to love you,” Tony teased. Not even Rhodey would willingly sit down and watch a rock 'n' roll documentary with him—as much as Tony loved Rhodey, his music taste was sadly uninspired—much less suggest it.

“That is my plan,” Stephen said, smug smirk on his face, clearly taking the teasing words as something closer to fact. Right. Maybe not something Tony should tease about when it came to Stephen. Note for the future.

They both filled plates with food—Tony might have ordered an excess, but he’d enjoy the leftovers if no one raided his refrigerator—and ended up on the couch while Stephen got the documentary started.

Tony supposed he wasn’t surprised when Stephen settled in close, pressed together knee to shoulder. Nor was he entirely surprised when the moment both of them had finished their dinner—Stephen waving his hand at their empty plates to send them to the kitchen sink in a flicker of orange—Stephen shifted them to lay down until Tony’s back was pressed to Stephen’s chest. Cuddling was normally a ‘serious relationship’ step for Tony. Sex was easy, casual intimacy was not. But Tony let it happen. It really had been an awful day and he liked physical affection. All the more reason to avoid it unless he was serious about someone.

Stephen’s hand found its way under Tony’s shirt to trace feather light touches against his skin. They seemed more deliberate patterns rather than absent touch. Despite himself, Tony found his breath catching. It took extreme effort to keep his concentration focused on the documentary Stephen had put on. Even his love of hard rock was struggling to fight against Stephen’s gentle ministrations.

“You are very distracting,” Tony told Stephen as the touches continued, keeping his gaze focused on the screen.

Stephen laughed, breath warm against Tony’s neck. “Am I? I’ve been very good at keeping my hands in appropriate places.”

Tony did not let himself think about Stephen touching him in less appropriate places. “Are you trying to distract me from the documentary you chose?” he asked. “Seems counterintuitive.”

“If I was trying to distract you, you’d be distracted,” Stephen said. “I’m providing a pleasant background to your new favorite documentary.”

It was impossible to not roll his eyes at that. He hadn’t exactly had a favorite documentary before this moment. Documentaries were normally not his entertainment of choice. “Not a high bar to get over,” he pointed out. “I hope documentaries are not your entertainment of choice, though. I don’t think I’d enjoy most of them the way I do this one.”

“Don’t worry,” Stephen said. “We’ll watch Star Wars, too.”

That made Tony frown. As much as he enjoyed being catered to, he didn’t want Stephen to bury himself for Tony’s desires. “Are we going to ever watch movies you enjoy?” he asked. “Or will you be constantly catering to my tastes?”

“Who says I don’t like Star Wars?” Stephen asked.

“Stephen,” Tony insisted, because he was serious. This was important. He couldn’t go into a relationship where his partner erased themselves for him. Tony had been in too many relationships where he turned himself into whoever and whatever his partner wanted him to be, losing himself to their wants.

Stephen responded with a gentle kiss to the nape of Tony’s neck. “Don’t worry,” Stephen said, voice soft. “As much as I want to keep you entirely satisfied, as much as I want you to find everything you need in me. I also want you to know me. I want you to know everything about me. How can you truly fall in love with me if you don’t?”

The logic was enough to lessen Tony’s tension. In all those relationships that haunted him, very rarely had he really, truly been loved. Stephen wanted Tony to love him, not in some desperate grab for affection like the Tony of the past had aimed for, but with the sort of love that matched Stephen’s this is devotion. “Good,” Tony said. “Don’t erase yourself for me.”

Another kiss. “I won’t, Tony. I promise.”

The words were a relief. “Now stop distracting me,” he said. “I’m trying to watch my new favorite documentary.”

“No promises,” Stephen murmured, words accentuated by Stephen’s hand dipping lower, barely staying appropriate. 

Tony’s breathe caught again. Damn it. Tony was too experienced for almost innocent touches to be getting this sort of reaction from him. “Appropriate, Stephen.”

Stephen just laughed, but his hand moved back up, though he didn’t stop tracing his focused patterns. Tony wondered if he should tell Stephen to stop touching him period, but he didn’t, even as Wong’s words echoed in his mind, asking Tony if he could resist Stephen.

But Tony was putting up boundaries, wasn’t he?

The thought wasn’t quite as reassuring as they should be. But it’d been a bad day, why couldn’t he accept comfort and affection when Stephen was offering?

Maybe Wong had a point.

Tomorrow Tony would slow them down. Nothing happening tonight was something Tony couldn’t take a small step back from.

“Watch your documentary, Tony,” Stephen told him, drawing Tony from his thoughts. “I promised to make sure your day ended better than it went. I’d rather not make a liar of myself.” 

It was already better than it had been, but some stubborn part of Tony didn’t want to admit that quite yet. “We’ll see if you deliver,” Tony said. “I’m not convinced yet.”

Stephen’s laugh clearly meant he didn’t believe Tony in the slightest, but Tony figured it was better not to argue. Too easy to fall into ‘protest too much’ camp and Tony did his best not to fall into such obvious traps. Anyway, he’d already missed several minutes of the documentary and Tony was actually enjoying it, surprising as that was.

They made it through both part one and part two of the documentary before Tony shifted on the couch so he was facing Stephen. “All right,” he acknowledged. “Day ended better than it went.”

The smug smile on Stephen’s face was somehow exasperating and charming at the same time. “I know,” Stephen said, tone matching his smile. Entirely smug. “I promise you, just a taste of what I’ll give you long term.”

Tony had no idea how to respond to that. Because Tony had had a bad day and Stephen had given him a rock 'n' roll documentary and cuddling. He couldn’t think of a single person who would have given Tony an evening so perfectly tailored for his enjoyment, but at the same time, something Tony would never have given himself. Would never have even thought to give to himself.

This is devotion.

Long term. What did that mean to Stephen? 

Was that even a question? Stephen meant forever. 

“Pepper and I dated for eight years,” Tony said quietly. “And we didn’t even manage to be together for several significant portions of that.” It might not be appropriate to bring up an ex in a situation like this, but it needed to be said. “It’s not a promising track record when she was my longest, most stable relationship.”

“I’m not Pepper,” Stephen said. “I’m not anyone you’ve ever had before.” Stephen smiled. “I’m your endgame, Tony.”

Stephen meant it. 

Tony felt heat spread through his chest. This is devotion echoed in Tony’s mind.

For the first time, even considering all of his previous hesitations and uncertainty, Tony had to really, truly acknowledge he had no idea what he was getting into, that he wasn’t ready for whatever he was getting into. But when Stephen kissed him again, Tony kissed him back.