IronStrange Haven, formerly IronStrangeHQ

-

Stephen leaned back into Tony’s embrace, the warm water of the deep tub lapping at his chest almost to the collarbones. The air was filled with the scent of cedar and cloves. Tony’s hands moved over his body, washing him with a tender thoroughness. With every stroke of the wash cloth and every beat of Tony’s heart, tangible through the press of their bodies together, Stephen felt the tension leech out of him. 

Eventually Tony set the wash cloth aside. He let his hand slide beneath the water, trailing down Stephen’s belly and gently taking his cock in hand. 

“This is that kind of bath, is it?” Stephen murmured, smiling.

“Doesn’t have to be.” Tony’s fingers nevertheless stroked Stephen’s length, slowly rousing him. 

Stephen made a negating noise. “It’s nice.”

“That’s the idea,” Tony said. He sounded amused, but then, ‘nice’ was rarely their goal in anything, including sex. But tonight, it was exactly right.

Tony brought his other hand into play, lightly teasing Stephen’s nipples. Not much, just enough to balance the swell of pleasure stiffening his cock. 

Closing his eyes, Stephen let his head fall back to rest on Tony’s shoulder. His hips rolled just slightly, moving into the strokes of Tony’s hand. Pleasure built languidly, neither of them rushing. Tony tightened his hold and Stephen moaned softly. The pace remained slowly, but the grip and twist of Tony’s hand drew a deeper, fuller heat into Stephen’s belly.

When Stephen comes, it’s with a sigh and a long shudder. He turns and presses a kiss to Tony’s throat. “Love you.”

"Take off your suit."

Startled by Stephen's abrupt tone, Tony protested, "What? We just got here! Can't I at least—"

"Now, Tony."

The order was not harsh, but it left no room for discussion. 

Tony had no choice but to obey. 

As the Iron Man suit's nanoparticles retracted, leaving Tony in jeans and a T-shirt, Stephen shed his sorcerer's gear with a wave of his hand. He was now wearing the same casual clothes he had worn before they left for this "mission."

He stepped toward Tony and narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing him.

Tony spread his arms and shrugged, saying, "See? I'm fine.  I took a few hits, which is true, but nothing out of the ordinary. It's neither the first nor the last time.”

Stephen sighed and shook his head. In a serious voice, he said, “You were thrown five meters against a concrete wall by a beam with almost ten times the force of gravity. That’s no small thing, even for Iron Man.” 

Tony’s smile faltered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. 

No one ever noticed the impact. 

No one cared enough about him to do so. After all, he had his armor to protect him. 

But Stephen didn't let go.

“Tony, please turn around.”

By backing away every time Stephen moved forward, Tony found himself almost cornered against the wall and had to obey. He turned around and suddenly felt his lover's fingers lifting his T-shirt.

Tony playfully said, "You know, if you wanted me to take my clothes off, all you had to do was ask."

Stephen didn't let himself be distracted. He gently pulled the T-shirt up, revealing Tony's bare back and causing him to stiffen.

Stephen couldn't help but sigh and whisper, "You said it's nothing, right?"

A bruise was beginning to appear in the middle of Tony's back.

The sorcerer traced its outline with his fingertips, barely touching it, and Tony couldn't help but grimace slightly, which didn't escape Stephen's watchful eyes.

The sorcerer said softly, "You should have said something." 

His fingers were now a few inches above the bruise without touching it as if he were afraid of aggravating the pain.

"It's really nothing," Tony insisted. "When I did the first tests on the suit in my workshop, it was much worse." "

"That doesn't mean it's nothing." 

Stephen's voice softened, but he was still determined as he gently placed his hands on Tony's shoulders and turned him around.

“Lie down. On the couch. Right now.”

Tony opened his mouth to protest, but one look at Stephen's expression silenced him. He nodded, walked over to the couch, took off his T-shirt, and lay down on his stomach.

Stephen conjured a portal, stepped through it, and returned a few seconds later holding a small jar. He sat down next to Tony, opened the jar, dipped two fingers into the cooling balm, placed the jar on the coffee table, and gently applied the balm to the bruise.

As soon as Stephen's hands touched him, Tony couldn't hold back the moan that escaped his lips.

"Am I hurting you? Do you want me to stop?” 

Tony shook his head.

"I swear, if you stop, Stephen, you—"

Stephen's laughter interrupted him.

"Okay, okay, I'll keep going."

He continued to spread the balm in slow, concentric circles. He pressed just hard enough with his thumbs to soothe the muscle beneath without accentuating the pain. 

"Hmmm, that's the advantage of having a doctor for a boyfriend."

Stephen shook his head with fondness and continued massaging Tony's back soothingly. 

Tony closed his eyes.

He said nothing more.

No more jokes.

He didn't feel like laughing anymore as the sensations caused by Stephen's hands overwhelmed him.

It had been years—even decades—since anyone had touched him like this. 

As if he deserved to be protected. 

A touch that gave without expecting anything in return.

He swallowed to get rid of the lump in his throat.

Stephen, who was watching him, sensed his turmoil. 

"It's okay, Tony. Just feel. I've got you."

He leaned down to kiss just above the bruise, the soft, warm pressure of his lips sending a wave of heat through Tony's entire body.

He surrendered to Stephen's gentle touch, focusing on the rhythm of his fingers on his skin, the warmth of his palm, and his encouraging hum. All of this enveloped him in a cocoon of well-being, a world where only he and Stephen existed.

When Stephen finished, he helped Tony sit up and put his T-shirt back on. Then, he kissed him lightly on the forehead before standing up. 

"I'll be right back."

Tony leaned back against the sofa and listened to the soft clinking of cups, the trickling of water, and Stephen's footsteps. The sounds coming from the kitchen, combined with the drowsiness from the massage, lulled Tony into a light sleep. When he opened his eyes, Stephen was standing in front of him with two cups that smelled like chamomile and eucalyptus.

"A recipe from Wong for sore muscles," Stephen said, handing Tony a cup. 

Tony took the cup, brushing Stephen’s fingers, and smiled. 

"So it's not a grandmother's recipe, but a Wong recipe."

Stephen laughed softly as he sank into the sofa. They drank their tea and chatted quietly about their mission until they had emptied their cups. 

Later, without asking, Stephen guided Tony to sit between his legs with his back pressed firmly against Stephen's chest. 

Stephen embraced Tony, resting one hand on his side and the other on his stomach. The embrace was firm but light, mindful of the bruise.

Tony exhaled slowly and deeply. He leaned back against his lover and rested his head on his shoulder.

"You know, I've never experienced this before." 

"This?" Stephen asked softly.

“People caring about me after a fight. Usually, there was a brief debriefing, and then I had to deal with the aftermath—the press, the weapons, the suit, and all that. I never had time to dwell on my own injuries." 

Stephen tightened his arms slightly. “I know.”

"So what I'm saying is, you don't have to worry about it. You don't have to..."

"It's not that I have to. I did it because I wanted to." 

Stephen lowered his head and pressed his lips against Tony's hair.

"You're not just my teammate anymore. You're not just my friend anymore. You're mine. That means you come first. Always. I want to take care of you."

Tony felt his chest tighten. He turned in Stephen's arms just enough to look at him. 

"I'm not used to this," he admitted in a low voice. "Being taken care of." 

"Does it bother you?" Stephen asked, brushing Tony's cheekbone with his thumb. "That I want to do this?"

“No,” Tony replied. "It scares me a little. But not because I don't want it. On the contrary. It's because I might get used to it."

Stephen's expression softened. He placed his hand on Tony's cheek and traced the curve of his lips with his thumb. "Does that mean I can keep doing this? Can I keep taking care of you like this?"

Tony shifted until he was kneeling between Stephen's legs, his hands resting on his lover's chest. Unable to find the words, he captured Stephen's lips in a tender kiss. When Tony tried to pull away, Stephen held him back. He parted his lips, allowing Stephen to deepen the kiss, and surrendered to the warmth of his body. Stephen's hands slid into Tony's hair and cradled his head as the kiss lingered.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads still pressed together, Tony whispered, "You can keep doing this."

Aware of the trust Tony was placing in him, Stephen replied gently, "Thank you for letting me take care of you."

He pulled Tony toward him gently and guided him to lie down on his chest. Tony snuggled up against him, nestling his head under Stephen's chin and throwing one leg over his. Stephen wrapped his arms around Tony, tracing random patterns along his spine with his fingers, avoiding the bruise but continuing to touch him delicately.

"I like this," Tony said after a moment, his voice sleepy. "The tea. The couch. Not being alone afterwards.”

"Me too," Stephen replied, kissing his temple. "And you won't be alone anymore. Ever again.”

Tony closed his eyes. "What if I hurt myself again?"

Stephen replied, "I'd prefer it if you could avoid it, but if you do, I'll take care of you."

"What if I never hurt myself again?"

Stephen chuckled. "As if that could happen."

Then he became serious again. "Even if you're not hurt, I'll take care of you. As long as you want me to." 

They stayed like that for a long time, snuggled up against each other and wrapped in a comforting warmth. At one point, Stephen lifted Tony a few inches, just enough to adjust their position, then put him back in his arms. Stephen ran his fingers through Tony's hair, traced the outline of his ear, and kissed his shoulder through the fabric of his T-shirt.

Tony was slowly learning what it was like to have someone care for him without asking anything in return or demanding that he be strong, brave, or proactive. 

He could just be himself and let go. 

Finally, drowsy, Tony whispered, "You know, if you keep doing that, I might never let you go."

Stephen kissed his neck and replied, "Good. Because I don't intend to leave."

Tony snuggled even closer to Stephen, responding with just a grumble.

Stephen buried his face in Tony's hair and let himself drift into the sweet drowsiness washing over him.

As the sun set behind the buildings and darkness filled the apartment, they fell asleep, entwined, oblivious to the outside world and everything that wasn't them.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Their relationship had changed, so Tony had decided to pay a surprise visit. 

At worst, Stephen would be busy. 

At best, he could spend time with his lover. Even five minutes would be enough.  

When the door opened, Wong stood there, his expression inscrutable.

"Tony, I didn't know you were coming today."

"I was hoping to surprise him."

Wong shook his head. "He's not here."

Even though Tony had prepared himself for this possibility, his smile faded slightly.  

"Oh?" Tony blinked. "Where is he, then?  I mean, if it betrays some kind of secret I'm not supposed to know about..." 

Wong interrupted him. "He's at home. He... prefers to be alone today.”

Tony frowned. "Today? What's so special about today?" 

He stopped mid-sentence when he saw Wong show him his hands.

Tony understood.

Of course!

Today.

Today marked the anniversary of the car accident that shattered Stephen Strange's life. It was the day that destroyed his brilliant future as a neurosurgeon.

Tony's chest tightened.

"We never talked about it. I didn't know the date," he whispered.

Wong nodded. 

"As you can imagine, he doesn't like to talk about it. Not with many people. But things have changed. You're partners now. Maybe this time, solitude isn't what he needs." 

They said goodbye, and when the door to the Sanctum Sanctorum closed, Tony stood there for a moment, feeling helpless.

He whispered to himself, "What if he doesn't want to see me?"

He took out his phone and dialed a number without thinking.

As always when he called, Pepper answered on the first ring.

"Tony? Is everything okay?”

He answered immediately, sensing the worry in her voice.

"It’s okay.I'm fine. It’s not about me. Not really. It's just that... someone I know is having a bad day. A really bad day. I don't know how to help, or if I even have the right to.” 

Pepper replied softly, "That someone is Stephen, isn't it?"

“Yes.”

There was no reason to deny it.

"Tony, you've been through so many difficult situations..."

Tony sighed. "This is probably one of the hardest."

What I mean, Tony, is that in all these situations, you've listened to your heart and instincts. Every single time. So do the same thing this time. You'll know what to do."

After a few words of encouragement from Pepper, Tony thanked her and hung up, knowing what he had to do.

He would be there for Stephen.

If Stephen refused, he would accept that too.

He took a deep breath and set off.

Less than half an hour later, he stood in front of Stephen's building and rang the bell.

He heard the buzz of the intercom and immediately said, "Stephen? It's me, Tony."

Silence.

Then, a slight click.

"You can come up."

At least it wasn't a direct rejection.

The elevator ride to the fifth floor had never seemed so slow.

The door was half open, and Tony entered the dimly lit apartment. A lamp in the corner gave off a faint glow—just enough for him to make out Stephen's silhouette, slumped on the sofa with his hands clasped on his knees.

The sorcerer didn't look up as Tony approached.

Tony said nothing. He continued walking until he sat down next to Stephen. He was close, but he didn't touch him. 

Minutes passed in silence until Stephen began to speak in a barely audible voice.

"It's ironic that I'm the guardian of the Time Stone, yet my whole life has been destroyed in an instant."

Tony didn't react, but the sadness in Stephen's voice tugged at his heart.

Stephen spoke again.

He talked about who he was before the accident, who he was right after, and who he had become. Tony recognized so much of himself in Stephen's story that he felt closer to him than ever before.

Tony had seen Stephen's hands all these years—the way they trembled slightly and the scars that ran along his fingers—but he knew what it was like to carry a wound you didn't like to talk about.

"I still have the title of doctor," Stephen whispered, staring at his hands. "But do I really deserve it? If I can no longer heal people or treat them as I did before, do I have the right to be called a doctor?"

Tony turned to him, moved closer, and gently took the sorcerer’s hands in his own.

"You still heal," Tony said kindly. "Just differently." 

He lifted Stephen's hands gently and continued in a reverent tone, "I've seen these hands do incredible things, defying all reality. I've seen you bend space and time and save hundreds of people with these hands." 

Stephen felt his breath catch when Tony brought his hands to his lips and kissed each finger respectfully.

"For all the lives you've saved and all the dimensions you've protected, you remain a healer. You remain a doctor. It's just... no longer a scalpel you use.”

A fleeting smile touched Stephen's lips.

Tony looked up and stared at Stephen.

In a firm voice, he said, "Remember your oath. You repeat it often: Primum non nocere: First, do no harm. You have immense power—the power to destroy worlds—and yet your first instinct is always to protect and never to hurt. You live by this principle. It's not the sorcerer, but the doctor who makes you act this way."

For a few moments, Stephen was too moved by Tony's words to say anything and remained silent.

Then, in a sheepish tone, he whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm really not good company today." 

Tony put his arms around Stephen and pulled him close. 

"I'm not here for you to keep me company," he said softly."I'm here for you, not for you to entertain me. I hope you know that I'm here for more than just the good times. I'm also here for the days when you don't feel like a hero and especially for those times."

Stephen leaned against Tony, burying his face in his shoulder.

“I don’t know how to do this, Tony. I don't know how to be weak. I'm the Sorcerer Supreme. I'm supposed to be strong." 

Tony hugged him tighter, kissed his hair, and whispered, "Then don't be the Sorcerer Supreme for once. There's no Iron Man or Sorcerer Supreme right now. Just Tony and Stephen." 

He kissed him again and added in a lighter tone, "By the way, for your information, I'm also a doctor. I have two doctorates, one in engineering physics and one in artificial intelligence. I have another secret, too: I'm a bit of a sorcerer.” 

Tony brought his lips close to the sorcerer's ear and whispered, "My hugs are magical."

Stephen couldn't help but laugh a little.

He let Tony hug him for a moment, then lifted his head and said, amused, "You're right. Your hugs are almost magical." 

"See? I think I need a cloak."

At these words, Stephen began to laugh heartily, much to Tony’s delight. 

Then the sorcerer sat up and took his lover’s face in his hands.

With trembling thumbs, he gently caressed Tony's cheekbones and whispered, "Thank you," before leaning down to kiss him tenderly.

Tony responded with restrained urgency, wrapping his hands around the sorcerer's shoulders to pull him closer. The kiss was about to deepen when a gurgling sound interrupted them.

Stephen froze.

Tony pushed him gently and asked, amused, "Was that...?"

“I may have forgotten to eat today.”

Tony burst out laughing, then stood up and held out his hand to Stephen. 

"Well, Doctor Strange, it's time for me to cook you a proper dinner. And don't look at me like that; I know how to cook." 

Moments later, to Stephen's amused and surprised gaze, Tony found himself in the sorcerer's kitchen, busily cooking. 

They ate dinner together at the kitchen table and chatted about this and that. Tony was delighted to see Stephen finally relax and smile.

Later that evening, they were snuggled up together on the couch in the living room once again. Stephen had his head on Tony's shoulder and gently caressed his chest where the blue reactor had been.

He said softly, "Thank you for today." 

Tony took the sorcerer's hand from his chest, kissed it, and replied, "You're welcome. You deserve it."

Stephen didn't answer, just humming instead. 

For the first time, he welcomed his vulnerability, finding solace in his lover's embrace.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

-

Stephen lays on his side, ass tucked closely into Tony’s groin, Tony’s cock buried deep. They’ve turned the heat up and thrown the sheets back. He drifts, eyes closed. The thick weight of Tony inside him spreads a lazy kind of satisfaction across his nerves. 

Now and then Tony rests the tablet he’s reading from against Stephen’s shoulder so that he can make a note. He doesn’t seem interested in moving the hand that is draped over Stephen, fingers idly brushing through the sparse hair on his belly. 

Everything is warmth: inside him, surrounding him, tangible and intangible. 

Wong would have mentioned if Tony had been harassing him, so Stephen suspected whatever this was had genuinely interested Wong. Stephen was just surprised that both Tony and Wong had managed to keep whatever it was a secret from him. 

“All right, then what is it?” Stephen asked.

Tony smirked. “Wong’s waiting for us at Kamar-Taj,” he said. “This is something that needs to be demonstrated to be truly appreciated.”

Stephen looked back at his dinner and Tony sighed. “I suppose you can finish dinner,” he said, properly dramatic. 

At this point Stephen was too curious to wait. “No, let’s go.” He threw his dinner in tupperware and headed toward the doorway to Kamar-Taj.

Wong was waiting for them in the courtyard.

“Put on the device,” Tony told him. “It’ll hook onto your clothes. On your chest is currently the best setup.”

Stephen pressed the device to his chest. It immediate latched onto his shirt, weight entirely negligible. 

Tony took a moment to double check the device before looking up to meet Stephen’s eyes. “Trust me?” 

There was no question. “Of course I do.”

Tony smiled softly. “I know instinct means you’ll want to cast a shield, but don’t.” He turned to Wong. “Show him.”

Stephen jerked in alarm. It took genuine effort not to cast a shield as Wong flung a spell at him. It dissipated about a foot from Stephen’s chest, so did the next three spells Wong sent. Stephen felt his mouth fall open as Wong sent another four, each more vicious than the last.

Finally, Wong stopped, looking smug, despite his magic failing at each turn. “We’ve tested it all the way to death curses,” Wong said. “It’ll block them all.”

“How?” Stephen asked. “This is…”

“Impressive, right?” Tony said. “You mentioned that inherently malevolent had a different signature from beneficial spells. I pestered Wong into helping me figure out the spectrum of signatures included from ‘inconvenient to malevolent’ and figured out how to create a signal that would negate any of those signatures when they approach. You can’t see it, but the device is letting out an energy shield. It only reacts to incoming magic, you can still send out whatever you want. Likewise, Wong can still send a healing spell your way and it would get through, but a curse? Nothing.”

Stephen stared at him, awed. “That’s brilliant, Tony.”