Archive of Our Own ^beta

“There’s a whole cosmos out there full of other planets, other galaxies,” Tony says with such passion, as he gestures to the sky above them, that he’d even ensnare the attention of the apathetic. Stephen wasn’t apathetic, especially where Tony Stark was concerned.

“Other talismans, other exotic relics. Wouldn’t you imagine?” Tony’s attention is redirected from the sky to Stephen as he speaks, as though Tony’s words weren’t enough to seduce. Like clockwork Stephen’s attention is directed away from the genius, less than a metre to his left, and to the sky Tony was enchanting with his words. Stephen wonders if the sky itself blushes at the attention Tony grants it. Stephen feels flushed.

“There must be other Sorcerers Supreme out there, each guarding his/her/its own territories,” Tony carries on. Stephen’s left to wonder if his lack of response has led Tony to continue his persuasion (seduction). “Go knock on their doors, see what they have to volunteer.”

“Are you offering to take me to the stars?” Stephen asks, his eyes never leaving the canvas of blues, purples and yellows above them, and tries not to hope.

“Yes,” Tony says and Stephen knows where he’s heading. Knows with a certainty he hasn’t felt in months. Questions why he’s resisted going to Tony for so long. “I’ve been working on a Spaceship, well more than one really, but this one is built for comfort, drives like a car.”

Stephen turns from the sky, he’ll have more than enough of it soon, and turns back to Tony, a face he can never get enough of. Stephen grins, it’s a poor imitation, looking like a grimace and never reaching his eyes: Tony lets him think it works. “Where is this ship?”

——

Take off is a longer procedure than Stephen had expected, not the actual take off, but the build up to it. It makes sense, Tony is a busy man with thousands of contacts that need to know he won’t be available for an unforeseeable amount of time. Stephen has no one to forewarn of his departure, without his magical abilities to make him an asset no one will be looking for him for his assistance, and the few people who cared about him as a person... well he burned those bridges down a long time ago. Then there’s the fact that-

“It’s like giving a Ferrari to a caveman,” Tony snickered, as he leaned over the back of the seat he had situated Stephen in.

Stephen could feel Tony’s breath hit the flesh of his neck, leaving goose bumps in its wake. Sees Tony’s steady hands as they point to different consoles and screens that control the ship. Could hear the joy chime in Tony’s voice like a soft bell, soothing and playful. Tony’s cologne washing over him is an overwhelming distraction. Stephen was uncomfortable. For more than one reason.

Stephen laughed, the sound not quite joyous. “I don’t know why you’re giving the Ferrari to the caveman seeing as you’ll be there to drive.”

“Well, problems could always arise,” Tony says, pragmatically. “If I lose consciousness, or something, you’ll need to know how to drive to get us out of there safe. Think you’re ready to take off?”

“No,” Stephen admits, but moves a shaky hand toward the console. “You ready for take off?”

“Always,” Tony grins, standing over Stephen’s shoulder, too close for it to be practical.

Take off, is altogether anticlimactic. Stephen focuses of the ship’s movements, too afraid to mess this up (it wasn’t just him in this ship in case an accident happened this time). Tony doesn’t leave his side, making comments that are meant to make Stephen smile and when an asteroid comes too close Tony easily takes over the controls, keeping them safe and protected.

——

“So, think we should just pick a random direction and keep flying, or check out some of the places I actually know how to get to?” Tony asks. “I’m pretty sure there won’t be any Sorcerers Supreme where I’ve been to though... didn’t really seem like the place for it.”

“It’s probably better than fruitlessly searching for a civilisation in unknown territory,” Stephen reasons. “We can always ask questions even if there is no Sorcerer Supreme.”

“Spartoi Empire then,” Tony says, directing the ship in that direction.

“What brought you there?” Stephen asks, half out of curiosity, half out of the need to do something. Travelling through Space was already proving to be monotonous with the large bouts of nothingness everywhere. Luckily he had Tony with him and there was nothing more entertaining than learning more about the man.

“Went on vacation in Space,” Tony said with no lack of amusement. “Got dragged into the Guardians’ business, Spartoi Empire’s where Quill’s from- you know other than Earth, it was fun.”

“I don’t know what’s supposedly fun in Space,” Stephen says, his eyes darting in the bleakness before them. It’s what he imagines the void looks like.

“Not fond of Space?” Tony asks, but doesn’t linger long enough for Stephen to answer. “Don’t worry, Space has plenty to enjoy. Trust me, I know. Universal translators, green aliens that are hard to sexually please, you name it they probably have it. We’ll find something to your liking.”

“Right,” Stephen says, a brow raised sceptically. He’s really beginning to question the sanity of coming here. But, Tony’s done this before, he’s picked himself up from rock bottom time and time again. Stephen can trust him.

——

And he can.

The Spartoi Empire doesn’t have a Sorcerer Supreme, but there is an abundance of magic around them. It festers, almost untapped, and Stephen can’t help but reach out for it. To feel it shock his senses in a way that’s almost painful, almost foreign, but everything he needs. He feels a little more like himself.

And then they come across an artefact. In appearance it’s a bracelet that seems to be made of some kind of bone. From a sentient creature or not, Stephen can’t tell, but it’s enchanting all the same. He hasn’t had his hands on something imbued with magic in so long.

“Your fashion sense is as questionable, as always,” Tony says from his side, before bantering a trade for the bracelet.

Tony hands it over with a flourish, after flogging off a couple of mints for it. Stephen is sceptical of the trade value, but takes it with a heartfelt thanks.

——

“It’s a truth spell,” Stephen says fascinated, while his hands brush over each rune delicately crafted into each bead of bone. Tony drives their ship, pays attention to Stephen and tries not to spill his drink on the new polyester- a multitasker if Stephen’s ever seen one.

“What so if you wear it, bam, you can make anyone tell you the truth?” Tony raises a brow.

“No,” Stephen shakes his head. “The truth is forced out of the person wearing it when they’re asked a question.”

Tony hums, before holding his hand out. “Put it on me then Doctor.”

Stephen blinked for a second, before giving Tony a scathing look.

“It’s not a toy Tony, this kind of magic is incredibly intrusive,” Stephen reasons.

“Well I’m offering myself up for it,” Tony insists. “Just ask a question or two, see if it’s still juiced up, or whatever, you need powerful artefacts right?”

“Tony it’s not-”

“Come on,” Tony interrupts. “You have all of my consent, truth me up.”

Stephen hesitates, but he takes Tony’s forearm in one hand and puts the bracelet on with his other hand. Tony’s flesh is warm under Stephen’s fingers, it’s a tantalising sensation that feels organic and Stephen can almost feel the beat of Tony’s pulse. It takes everything in Stephen not to keep his hands on Tony.

“Well, I guess even I can’t make tacky things look tasteful,” Tony sighs, before grinning at Stephen. It’s his showman’s grin. “Ask away, Doctor.”

“Are you sure?” Stephen asks, because he’s not sure Tony understands the gravity of this situation. Truth spells are dreadful.

“No,” the word is forced out of Tony. Tony is left blinking, disoriented. “I hate magic, there’s nothing more I want than to take this off.”

Stephen wants to ask why Tony agreed to take him to Space, why Tony continues to fan the flames of their friendship if his hatred for magic was that great. He refrains. Reaches over to take the bracelet off.

Tony moves back.

“Hey I said I was going to do this,” Tony insists, holding his hand out of reach. “Ask me a question- a better question.”

“I’m not going to ask you, when you’ve admitted you don’t want to answer any questions,” Stephen says.

“I didn’t say that, I said I wasn’t sure, I’ll answer any question,” Tony argues.

“Tony,” Stephen holds his hand out and Tony sighs as he hands his wrist back over.

“You’re missing out of some real juicy answers,” Tony insists, as Stephen’s fingers brush against Tony’s warm flesh once more. “You could have asked me for my bank details- I know those off by heart- or my most embarrassing story or what I think about you. Some people kill to know what I think about anything.”

Bracelet removed, Stephen takes his hands and the magical artefact away from Tony. He sends Tony a small smile, one that just reaches his eyes. “I’m sure I’ll live.”

“Your loss,” Tony insists, before going back to driving as Stephen continues to analyse the artefact. He can’t say Tony’s manipulation by the bracelet has been completely useless though, the bracelet is thrumming with magic it wasn’t a second ago. Stephen studies it.

——

“Hey,” Tony stresses the word so long it sounds like a child whining, it’s wholly inappropriate for the situation. “I thought you said you couldn’t use any magic!”

“On Earth,” Stephen stresses, the word barely a hiss under the strain keeping the magic together in front of them. “There’s magic here... not that I have a good grasp of how to use it. It’s... different.”

“Well, that’s good- the magic being here part, not the rest of that- means I’m right there has to be other Sorcerers Supreme,” Tony babbles, and if Stephen could he’d slap a silencing spell on Tony. This was not the time for banter.

“We’ll celebrate how right you are- which has yet to be seen, you realise?- later, right now we need to get out of this situation,” Stephen can feel beads of sweat drip down his face and it’s more than a little disheartening how magic doesn’t come to him as easily as before.

“I am right, I’m always right,” Tony grins, before his armour wraps around him. “Now let the professionals work.”

Tony easily takes out the alien traffickers, and once the last of them is downed, Stephen releases the shield spell with a sigh. He stretches his fingers, magic crackling around them in a way that can’t be safe.

“You alright?” Tony asks, landing beside Stephen with a whirring sound that signals his armour retracting.

Stephen raises a brow. “You couldn’t have done that sooner?”

“I would have,” Tony defends. “But, you had total control over it.”

Stephen shakes his head. “Right, let’s leave before any more aliens that want to sell us arrive.”

“Aw, don’t worry if they catch you, I’ll make sure to outbid anyone to win you back,” Tony flutters his eyelashes in such an exaggerated way Stephen has to laugh.

“That’s not comforting,” Stephen shakes his head. “You’re poor Space currency wise.”

“But, Earth’s got some awesome flavours that the rest of universe doesn’t have,” Tony grins. “Honestly, when Earth gets Space travel going, it’s gonna be the Spice trade all over again, hopefully less death and slavery than last time.”

“Quite,” Stephen agrees. It’s something Stephen hadn’t thought about when he agreed to come to Space, but Tony clearly had, the various different herbs and spices that are stocked in the ship have proven more than useful to getting any magical artefacts that are being sold. Stephen is more than grateful, not for the first time; that Tony’s here to help him out.

——

“What are you going to do with all this?” Tony asks one day, eyes shimmering with amusement as he watches Stephen meditating in a room that’s becoming more and more a stockroom for all the magic artefacts they’re finding. “Start a magic museum?”

“No,” Stephen says, his eyes don’t twitch from suddenly being addressed, a master of calmness after his years of training (it helps that the Ship is so small that it’s impossible not to hear the other inhabitant, Stephen swears he can sometimes hear Tony’s heartbeat).

“Why not?” Tony asks, a teasing lilt to his tone that makes Stephen long to open his eyes to witness the way Tony’s eyes scrunch up in delight (joy looks good on the other man). “Don’t you run a gift shop? Add a museum to it.”

“The gift shop is needed to fund the magical side of business. I’m not going to make people pay to have demons removed from them, but it’s not like the mystic arts are government funded- nor should they be- but bills have to be paid,” Stephen explains. “Having a museum attached, wouldn’t turn in any more profits, not to mention it would be immensely dangerous. Giving people a chance to steal relics? No thank you. There’s also the fact most of them probably won’t survive.”

“What- why?” Tony questions. “I don’t remember that part of the plan.”

“You remember I mentioned there’s a way to jump start the magic back on Earth by destroying a relic?” Stephen pauses long enough for Tony to nod (not that Stephen can see it). “Well if we can’t find a Sorcerer Supreme with an alternative solution, I’ll have to use these to jump start the magic back home.”

“But, we will find another Sorcerer Supreme,” Tony insists. “I’ve told you already, I’m always right.”

Stephen opens his eyes (and can’t help but notice the way Tony’s eyes linger over Stephen before glancing at one relic or another) for the sole purpose of obnoxiously rolling his eyes.

“If,” he stresses, “we discover another Sorcerer Supreme, we can’t guarantee they’ll have another solution we can actually use on Earth.”

“If,” Tony stresses it back longer, grin lighting his face up, “they don’t, I’ll be sad to see it destroyed.”

Tony holds up the bracelet of bone. The grin Stephen had assumed was amusement, seems more challenging. Stephen raises a brow.

“Come on,” Tony shakes the bracelet, an unpleasant rattling noise fills the space around them. “Ask me a question again.”

“I’ll ask the same question again,” Stephen forewarns. “If you answer negatively I won’t ask any more questions, just like last time.”

Tony grins, putting the bracelet on. “Easy. Ask away.”

“Are you sure?” Stephen asks.

“No,” Tony answers and he looks more disappointed than Stephen even thinks to feel.

——

“I can’t exactly say I approve of putting unknown substances in our systems,” Stephen eyes the drink in front of him sceptically. It’s an almost luminescent green that bubbles threatening on the surface.

“One. You’ve had worse than this, you told me you’ve eaten those weird demon-like creatures before-“

“As a means of survival,” Stephen defends. “You’re suggesting we drink this for recreational purposes.”

“Two,” Tony continues as though he had never been interrupted. “I am scanning the drinks to make sure mine won’t get me drunk and yours won’t kill you. Surely safer than your expedition into demonic culinary.”

There’s a lot that he could say to that. Could point out he wasn’t showing any concern for Stephen’s sobriety. Could point out Tony wasn’t showing any concern for his own mortality. Instead he focuses on the most important point Tony made. “I used magic to scan those demonic delicacies.”

“How’d that turn out for you?” Tony asks, his tone amused in a way that Stephen knows means Tony doesn’t believe it was useful in anyway. A tone Stephen’s heard from Tony plenty over the years, a tone of voice Stephen enjoys proving wrong.

“I’d say better than that,” Stephen eyes the contraption Tony runs along each side of their glasses.

“You haven’t even seen what it can do,” Tony whines, never happy to hear someone saying magic (anything) is better than his technology.

“Well, if I had the magic to show you a scanning spell,” Stephen can’t keep the smugness from his voice. “We would already know if these were toxic or not.”

“Most people wouldn’t admit to needing less than a minute,” Tony grins at him, Stephen rolls his eyes but can’t resist grinning back.

“I didn’t say that now did I?” Stephen could say more, could elude to more, but he knows it’ll be more fun to rile Tony up in a completely different way. “Though, as for your technology, don’t you usually brag about its speed? What would your competitors say?”

“Well, my competitors aren’t really making tech this advanced, so they’d have to be impressed, begrudgingly of course,” Stephen raises an unimpressed brow. “My competitors, also, would understand that sometimes speed has to suffer for quality.”

“Sounds like an excuse for not being good enough,” Tony snorts, opening his mouth to reply, only-

The table they’re sat at comes to life with blue lights. Other patrons in the ‘fine’ establishment they’re in look over, but Tony pays them no mind as he explains in an excited babble exactly what they’re seeing. The drinks structures broken down to their barest molecules. Both drinks are safe, Tony’s is mildly intoxicating so they switch drinks, but neither are toxic.

“Bet your magic can’t do that,” Tony grins.

“No,” Stephen pauses, just long enough for Tony’s eyes to lighten with victory. “It can do better.”

Stephen smothers his laughter with a gulp of his drink, only to regret it immediately. It tastes like rotten onions with the texture of a mashed banana. He grimaces. Tony laughs, it’s a genuine sound that starts with a particularly unattractive snort and Stephen can’t regret drinking the horrible concoction in front of him (especially when Tony tries to stop himself from gagging on his own drink seconds later).

——

Tony slams a piece of paper on the surface between them.

“There!” He says, as though this piece of paper holds the answers to all life’s questions.

Stephen pays it a glance. “What’s this?”

“Questions,” and that it is. Stephen raises a brow, waiting for more. “For you to ask me while I’m wearing this.”

Tony holds out the truth bracelet on one finger. Stephen rolls his eyes.

“Why do you want to be forced into answering questions so badly?” Stephen asks.

“If you look at the questions provided you’ll understand,” Tony grins, Stephen resists looking at them. “Oh, come on. It’s just a little fun, ask any of the questions on there, no others, and you won’t feel bad forcing me to answer questions against my will. I’m giving you full consent to ask those questions.”

Stephen sighs. “I’ll be asking for your agreement again.”

Tony places the bracelet on, with a wink. “You’ll discover that’s the first question on there, just for you.”

A glance down confirms it is. Stephen sighs, but relents. Tony had done plenty for him, providing him a means to discover new magic, going into Space with him to make sure nothing bad happened. Tony was helping him in more ways than was imaginable, the least he could do was ask some questions.

“Are you sure?” Stephen asks once the bracelet has settled comfortably around Tony’s wrist.

“As long as you only ask the questions I wrote down,” Tony looks so pleased with himself and Stephen has to wonder just why he so desperately wants to answer Stephen truthfully. He looks down at the paper. It won’t be long until he finds that out, he guesses.

“Why didn’t you answer positively to that question previously?” Stephen asks, just reading directly off of the sheet of paper.

“I added that question just for you,” Tony says. “Didn’t want you thinking I didn’t trust you or anything, there has to be some amount of trust to live in this tiny ship with someone. It was just there’s so many things I can’t talk about, Stark Industry’s things, secret identities that need protecting. Couldn’t accidentally blurt those things out while under a truth spell. So, while I trust you, I need more contingencies that I won’t accidentally mess up, thus,” he gestures flippantly at the piece of paper, “ah. I should probably mention before we go on any further you don’t have to ask all of those questions, if any make you feel uncomfortable or you’re just not interested in, which let’s face it is impossible- it’s me we’re talking about, feel free to miss them.”

Stephen’s almost tempted to say something to that, a comment or a question he’s not sure, but he resists. It was easy to fight the gnawing curiosity. He agreed to only ask the questions pre-decided, he wasn’t going to betray that trust. He looks over the paper, his eyes skimming and scanning for something he is interested in hearing.

His eyes lock onto one question. He tries to move past it, tries to focus on something less heavy, but... well it’s a question Stephen himself had been wandering more and more frequently as of late. “Why did you agree to go to Space with me?”

“When you asked for my advice,” Tony begins and Stephen watches Tony’s face intently, making sure there’s no distress at being forced to answer. Stephen can only read a flippant calmness across Tony’s features. “You said you came to me, because who else in our society has got back from rock bottom more than me, but well the one thing I didn’t advise that I really should have is: doing it alone sucks. When you have someone there supporting you, even if it’s just to confide all your problems to, it makes everything just that little bit easier. I thought I’d try being that for you.”

Stephen can’t comment on that. He’d want to thank Tony for the thoughtfulness. Want to tell him he appreciates it, but Stephen knows the trickiness about truth spells. Even statements of fact can be heard as questions, and a question means further truthful answers. Truthful answers that were not promised. Stephen leaves the topic, jumps to a different question provided. A, hopefully, lighter question.

“What did you do with the Wand of Watoomb Doom gave you?” Stephen asks.

“I’m glad you asked,” Tony grins as he regales a ridiculous tale that results with the Wand of Watoomb being used as a paper weight. Stephen should probably forewarn against the use of magical artefacts as anything but what they were intended for. Instead he focuses on asking more questions. It carries on in that same way for a while: seemingly random, harmless, questions that made either or both of them laugh.

“Are you single?” Stephen had asked, a brow raised judgingly.

“Currently,” Tony answered all but leering. “Hopefully for not much longer.”

“Star Wars or Star Trek?”

“Star Trek, obviously. I’d be one of the special red shirts that isn’t cannon fodder as well obviously.”

And so it went. Amusing. Light-hearted. And annoyingly one sided. Stephen wanted to make comments. Wanted to leer back at Tony. Wanted to say he always thought Tony would wear a blue shirt for science. Wanted to partake in this surprisingly fun game of 20 questions. Then he reached a set of... unique questions.

Stephen could ignore them. Tony had given him his permission and if asked Stephen would say Tony probably said that with these questions in mind. Stephen could ignore them, but... he wanted the answer to them... and Tony had given his consent...

Stephen steeled himself. Locked eyes with Tony (eyes that were daring him, eyes that were pleading).

“What do you think of me?” Stephen asks. He could have ignored it. Could have continued to live in ignorance, never truly knowing. Could have lived a life of denial and regret. Stephen didn’t want to live that life.

“I like you,” Tony says it easy enough (Stephen wonders if it’s due to the fact that Tony knows he can’t escape the answer). “Even with all the magic, which have I mentioned that I hate?, I like you. Romantically- probably. Sexually- definitely. You know if that wasn’t obvious, though I like you as a friend too. Don’t want you to think this is ruined if you don’t feel the same.”

Tony’s eyes never waver away from his. They focus stronger than he could have ever imagined. Tony wants him to ask the next question. He won’t force him to, of course, but Tony wants him to.

Stephen wants to. Stephen really wants to, but-

“Come here,” Stephen gestures towards him. “We can’t have this conversation while you’re wearing that bracelet.”

Tony sighs, shoulders slumping forward as he closes the distance between them. He looks like a dejected puppy as he holds his hand out to Stephen.

Stephen takes the bracelet off.

Takes a deep breath.

Looks deep into Tony’s eyes.

“Will you date me?” Stephen asks, just as the piece of paper told him to.

Tony pauses for a moment, before he smiles. “Didn’t think you were going to ask, what took you so long?”

Stephen‘s fingers on his left hand trail against the flesh of Tony’s wrist. His right hand holds the bracelet, tempted to put it on himself. He doesn’t.

“That’s not really a confirmation,” Stephen says instead, his voice surprisingly husky (he blames it on the fact his mouth dried up the second he saw those questions, at the possibilities).

“Should have asked while I was wearing the bracelet,” Tony responds cheekily. “It was your only time to get an honest answer from me. But, too late, you’ve lost the opportunity forever. I still hate magic after all.”

Stephen grins. “We’ll see.”