Tony felt a sudden tug on his sleeve, and red fabric wrapped around his arm and pulled him backwards.
"Woah woah! Let go of my arm. What is it?"
The cloak only squeezed his arm harder and dragged him back.
“Okay, I’ve got the idea.” He grumbled, shaking it away and going up the stairs.
Once he reached the top, he turned to the cloak hovering next to him, “Lead the way.”
The red fabric fluttered towards the bedroom he and Stephen shared, and he paused.
“Huh.” He whispered, heading over and pushing the door open, “Stephen? You in here, love?”
In reply, there was a low hum and Tony paused, suddenly freezing and staring at the back of the door blankly.
“Can I come in?” He asked softly, and he didn’t get any kind of response this time. His worry only growing, he stepped in and looked over to the bed.
Stephen’s head slowly looked up from his hands and gazed hazily up at Tony, and his eyes refused to focus.
“There you are. Are you feeling okay?”
The sorcerer remained silent and tensed up.
“Hey. Look at me.” Tony said slowly, “your little cape dragged me up here. What’s going on?” He took Stephen by the arm and without thinking he went to hold Stephen’s hand, to which he was pushed away, and all of a sudden the previously unmoving man had jumped all the way to the other side of the bed, shaking violently.
Tony winced but then looked down and, “Stephen.” He said quietly, “What’s wrong with your hands?”
See now this is where things get complicated, as the sorcerer realises in horror, turning his head away and staring with empty eyes at the wall. Tony only vaguely knows about his accident, which is what led him to the mystic arts, but he never told him about the permanent damage that was sustained on his hands.
“I guess I didn’t tell you about my hands.” He mumbled, lifting them up from out of his pockets and raised them into the light so Tony could get a good look at them. Eyes following the path the scars took across his hands, Tony gazed down at them in shock.
“This is why I had to stop being a surgeon. My accident wrecked my entire body but my hands got the worst of it. I did mean to tell you but it’s never been necessary.” The sorcerer grumbled quietly, warming to Tony’s touch remaining on his arm.
“What do you mean it was never necessary?” Tony snapped, not in the least bit mad but just frantic. Panicked. He internally cursed himself once he saw Stephen flinch at his slight outburst, but he was still just as worried.
“I learned to replace my hands with magic when my hands failed. But I don’t have the energy for magic and my hands just hurt. Everything hurts.”
The room went silent for a moment, but it felt like years as it drew on.
Then Tony got to his feet and nudged his boyfriend slightly.
“Move along.” He said quietly, and Stephen quickly obliged and shuffled further away, and immediately Tony climbed in beside him, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and pulling him down so that he was lying comfortably in his arms.
“I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
Stephen almost laughed and he placed his head on Tony’s shoulder, squeezing his torso.
“…’s okay. You didn’t yell.”
“Do you just wanna stay in bed all day?”
Stephen gave a weak nod and practically fell asleep then and there.
“Night to you too, sweetheart.” Tony whispered gently, running his hands through Stephen’s hair soothingly and pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“Love you…”