The Universe Released
What do you call the thing you love the most?
Is love merely an emotion or is it something other; something humans may understand on an inexplicable and primal level but could never truly hope to unravel or fully comprehend. It's not voluntary or logical, yet it drives the world forward; spins the earth around.
Love, Stephen knows, is as ancient as time. Love transcends time. From the second the universe was born the stars couldn't bear to be apart, drawn together to form the ever-expanding galaxies and from the Stardust, their earth coalesced and they were born.
It is not a surprise, that wars and battles and conflicts arose in the name of this ancient, powerful notion. Love for one's country, for one's family, it's the kind of sweeping tides that could overrule mountains and overturn oceans and turn an ordinary man into something extraordinary.
There's a man that lays in his bed every night, that burrowed and tucked himself into a nook in his heart and made a home for himself where Stephen had forbidden anyone else. There had been no rational answer, no cogent way to figure out how Tony Stark, someone he had despised at first glimpse, had instilled himself into the very centre of Stephen's universe and made himself its point of gravity.
No matter how much they fought, no matter how many days they spent apart and all the venomous words that cracked their skins, Stephen Strange would always gravitate back to Tony Stark like the stars that formed their universe.
He has a theory: that the calcium in his bones and iron in his blood came from the same star that made up Tony's. That the atoms of his being even when interlaced with the most powerful magic still craved Tony's with that old, primordial love that couldn't be broken by distance or time.
"You know, if you weren't so incredibly good looking, the staring would be a little creepy," his husband slurs sleepily. There's a broken strand of sunshine playing across a battle-weary back, fine dust motes dancing in the warm yellow light and bleary hazel eyes glittering like a universe of their own.
Stephen drags a finger up Tony's cheekbone, watches the small smile that plays on the corner of his lips and crinkles the edges of his eyes. Ten years, he has woken up next to this and every time there's a lurch in his chest so powerful, he thinks he'll disintegrate beneath its weight.
"Cat got your tongue?" Tony teases softly, covers Stephen's hand with his own and drags Stephen's palm to his lips where he leaves a kiss that burns his skin.
"Tony," Stephen says, after a beat of silence in which Tony's eyes threaten to drown him. "Do you know what today is?"
Tony's smile warms to something that's almost painful to look at. "Are you kidding? Like I could forget our anniversary."
Stephen smiles despite himself as he shifts closer to Tony. Their noses bump together and Tony's foot slips between his, a touch of home. "Ten years," Stephen murmurs, in awe that he could still be this consumed by someone after such a long time. "Can you believe it?"
"That long, huh?" Tony chuckles and runs a hand through Stephen's hair. "Suprised we made it this long?"
Stephen shakes his head, his arm snaking around Tony's middle and tugging them closer. "There hasn't been a single day," Stephen begins, eyes flickering to lock with Tony's, "In which I doubted you being the one for me."
"So suave." Murmurs Tony, eyes half-lidded as they drop to Stephen's lips. "I'm already in bed with you, you don't have to sweet-talk me."
"Mhm," Stephen hums his agreement, presses a soft kiss to the tip of Tony's nose. "Have you ever doubted it?"
Tony's eyes drift back to his, "You being the one for me? Maybe at first." Tony decides and then smiles wickedly, "But you've proven yourself very convincing and I'm here for this wizardly charm. I mean just look at you," his voice softens and Stephen's heart lurches again, "Sometimes I wonder if I deserve you."
Stephen tries to resist but he can't. He kisses him, long and deep until his blood sings and his lungs constrict. Chest to chest, two hearts beating in tandem, until he's stolen every last one of Tony's breaths for his own until Tony's all he can taste on his tongue, until every last cell in Stephen's bloodstream is calling for him.
And when he pulls back, Tony has a dazed look in his eyes, pink lips swollen and wet, his chest heaving.
Stephen doesn't know how to voice his words, how to explain that Tony doesn't need to deserve him because he belongs to Tony regardless, as marked by the universe, as dictated by the soul that inhabits this body. Sometimes he stretches the seconds to a million, like now, just to memorise the look Tony gives him, something adoring and unchanging.
Stephen finally settles for, "You are mine, you're stuck with me."
"I could think of worse ways to go," Tony decides, still a little breathless, "But kiss me again just so I'm sure."
Stephen does and this time he moulds every inch of their skins together, heart to heart, atom to atom, the universe at his fingertips and feels the flow of something stronger than magic.