Mayerine

astralaberration:

bad-puns-and-even-worse-magic:

astralaberration:

Starting my work day with a warm up sketch, I saw this pose and totally nabbed it because it was adorable, so I take no credit for that aspect of this (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

“Come on,” Stephen’s voice was a gentle
rumble against chilled skin. His breath was warm, his hands kind, and each
movement slowly stripped away fabric. Darkness had fallen outside the windows—consuming
in its hunger and growling at the window. It was unable to enter the dim
bedroom; even the soft candle glow of the singular lamp enough to keep the
world away for the moment.

Fabric ruffled brown hair and the shirt
fell to the floor, abandoned with ripped trousers dotted with asphalt stains
and blood. Palms pressed against Tony’s chest, the scars on trembling fingers
rough against his skin. He let them guide him to the mattress where his eyes
could turn to look up at Stephen.

They were brown like the leather of old
boots; old in spirit and fading if not for the glue and stitches that had
repaired them over and over again.

Stephen cupped Tony’s jaw in his palm and
pressed his lips to the other man’s forehead, hovering there for a good moment.
A sigh fell through the room, fluttering like butterfly wings across pale
forearms.

Pulling back, Stephen shed his own singed,
blue robes and let them join the clothes already on the ground. He placed the
wrappings on a nearby chair, left his boots lying on the ground, and climbed up
beside Tony. Silk sheets were cool against heated skin, soothing the aches and
burns of the day. Stephen’s lips brushed the edge of a bandage wrapped around a
right bicep and guided a malleable, exhausted body under the covers.

Tony didn’t so much fall against the pillow
as sink into it; eyes drifting close as warmth pressed in behind him. “Stephen,”
he tried, words slurring like slush on the side of a city road.

“Sleep,”
Stephen said, focusing on the lamp and turning the light off with a wave of his
hand.

There would be things to do in the morning;
press conferences to be had, meetings to sit in on, paperwork to sign.

But at that moment it was just the warmth
between their bodies, the chorus of old air systems in the Sanctum clunking in
the old home, and the chorus of life in the city.

---

Tony woke with the same, lazy rise of the
sun. His body ached with gentle pulses—some from bruises, some from strain—but there
was a heat against his back that made him want to curl in and never let go.
Breath drifted across the back of his neck, a hand twitched under his forearm,
and he felt more than heard the soft mumbling against his skin.

He could feel Stephen’s soft hair mixing
with his own, could hear the deep, even breaths of a man still deeply asleep.
While the sun painted gold across their skin, Tony let the tension of
wakefulness ease from his shoulders, relaxed into the body of the man behind
him, and let Morpheus claim him once more.

So absolutely sweet, I can’t tell you how much of an honor it is to have something written after a piece of art I’ve done. I’m blown away and I can’t even put into words how grateful I am! This is such an adorable little one shot, you are so articulate with your dialogue, your choice of words paint such a vivid image in the mind. I really enjoyed this, it’s so heart warming <3<3<3