Chapter Text
The sunset from Stark Tower was breathtaking. Stephen could see why the others had insisted on having their victory party here even over Tony’s token objections.
Honestly, he’d been surprised to be invited to the party at all. Everyone else in the group shared a complex history together, in some cases one that spanned centuries, and then there was him. The fight against Thanos notwithstanding, he barely knew any of the people here, in fact, he’d never even met half of them.
So as they all sat around talking about past adventures and remembering fallen comrades, Stephen kept to the outer edge of the balcony, admiring the view and trying not to feel like he was back in high school, too smart and too, well, strange to fit in. He could feel the same mask of arrogance he had worn then slipping on to hide his growing discomfort.
It was a relief when Tony appeared again, garnering cheers and thanks from the rest of the group as he wrestled a large grey cooler onto the deck. At least Tony was familiar, if not exactly friendly, and Stephen found himself looking forward to trading barbs with him again, particularly with him wearing such a tight, revealing shirt. When he bent to set the cooler down Stephen looked away from various rippling muscle groups, determined not to give his thoughts away.
The painfully young voice of Peter Parker made him look back. “Oh, Mr Stark, I could’ve helped you carry that out,” he offered, looking so much like an eager puppy that Stephen winced a bit in sympathy.
“No, it’s fine,” Tony said popping open the cooler and fishing around in it for a few seconds before he straightened to hand the kid an eye-searingly yellow can.
“Thanks, Mr Stark!”
“You’re welcome; everyone else, help yourselves.”
“That’s an awfully small cooler for a party,” someone commented.
Tony opened his mouth to answer, but the muted boom of Thor’s voice beat him to it. “There’s no need for concern; we have the wizard of infinite beer here,” he said, sweeping his arm towards where Stephen stood at the edge of the group.
All eyes turn towards him and and he froze like a deer caught in headlights.
“The wizard of beer?” an average looking man Stephen had yet to meet asked dubiously.
Thor nodded in confirmation. “Yes! He gave me a tankard that refilled itself; it was quite extraordinary!”
Stephen blinked, unsure what to say. It was one thing to refill a single glass with liquid, it was quite another to refill a chest with multiple different types of individually packaged beverages. He supposed he could do it, maybe with the right gateway and a bit of help from his newly restored Eye of Agamotto, but while he was tempted to try it in order to impress this group of powerful people, his common sense was firmly against manipulating time and space for beer.
Tony saved him from having to answer. Flashing a dazzling smile at Stephen, he said,“There is no need to drag the mighty forces of the cosmos into this, though it’s good to know what to get you for your next birthday, Terminator.”
Before Thor could object to the name, Drax beat him to it, “Terminator? I thought the pirate-angel was called Thor.”
“Yeah, but, you know, he’s got the buzzcut now and the cybernetic eye like the movie…”
Drax still looked lost. “So it is funny because he has killed many people?”
“Well, yes,” Thor said. “I have killed many of my enemies, so I guess that would be a fitting name.”
Tony squeezed his eyes closed, covering them with his fingertips and sighing before he said in exasperation,“You know what, forget it. We are getting way off track here. Muscles, how about you just go talk to Banner, Drax, go find a shirt or something, and nobody has to worry about the beer. I have more on the way already, this was just what I had on hand. Believe it or not, I don’t keep a keg around just in case the world gets saved.” Scooping a few cans out of the ice, Tony tossed one to a surprised Stephen, continuing, “So grab a can and trust me to keep them coming.”
“Cans?” Banner asked. “Isn’t that a little lowbrow for you, Tony?”
“We don’t bring anything glass out here since that time Nat got drunk and decided to throw a wine bottle off the balcony to see if I could catch it before it hit the ground.”
“Ms Romanoff!” Peter exclaimed, sounding scandalized.
“Oh, it was fine,” she said, waving an arm dismissively. “He caught it.”
Dryly, Tony said, “Of course I did, and then you screamed ‘Best two out of three!’ and threw another.”
“See, children,” Fury said from where he was looming darkly. “This is why we can’t have nice things.”
Stephen chuckled along with the others, but inside he was too worried about the can he now held. Seven surgeries, months of therapy, and years of mastering the mystic arts hadn’t given Stephen back his ability to do something as mortifyingly simple as pull open the tab on a can of beer. His fingers were too weak, the tremor in them too pronounced to perform the simple task. If he had a key or a knife or something he could use as a level to pull the tab up, he could do it, but his robes were sadly lacking in pockets for such things, and the only other thing he wore was the Eye of Agamotto and he refused to open beer cans with it.
He looked down helplessly at his unopened beer, knowing that soon someone would notice and accuse him of being too good to drink with them, then he would have to explain and look pathetic or agree and look like a dick. Fervently, he wished he had just gone home.
A warm hand came to rest on his arm, derailing his dark train of thoughts, and suddenly Tony was there, leaning into his personal space to pluck the cold can from one shaking hand. “Here, allow me,” he said, cracking open the can.
“Um, thanks. Sorry, I just, you know, can’t-” Stephen stammered, his face turning red.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.” Moving in even closer, Tony pressed the can back into his grip. Did his hand linger as their fingertips met? Stephen wasn’t sure, but he hoped they had.
Tony retrieved his own drink from a nearby table, and staying close to Stephen, he turned back towards the group held up his can. “My friends, a toast.”
“To old friends fallen and to new friends found. To battles lost and wars won. To the end of one chapter and the start of something new.” Tony turned to look directly at Stephen and gave them what could only be called a flirtatious wink before finishing, “To new beginnings!”
“New beginnings,” Stephen chorused along with the rest of the group, taking a long drink from his now-open can to hide his blush.
Hours later, Stephen watched the fireworks display blooming above the skyscraper disinterestedly. Objectively, it was a great show, but he’d had his fill of explosions recently and was more than ready to be back in the solitude of Bleecker Street, maybe listening to some David Bowie and taking a manly bubble bath, one with the bubbles that smelled like apricots.
He rested a hand on the sling ring on his belt, thinking this would be the best time to leave while everyone else was distracted and wondering if it would be polite to say goodbye to his host or if he had already pushed his luck there as far as it would go. Tony was probably busy with all his friends and wouldn’t notice or care about the quiet departure of one wayward wizard.
Turning away from the balcony railing, planning to find a quiet corner to open a gateway home, Stephen collided with the very man he’d been thinking about. Only Tony’s quick step backward kept him from being knocked over.
“Sorry!” Stephen said, grabbing Tony’s arm to steady him. “Good reflexes, though.”
“Well, I did lead my high school football team to win the state championship.”
“Really? I’d never heard that.”
“That’s because it isn’t true. I’m just trying to impress you. Did it work?”
“I’m not sure there's anything you could say at this point that could impress me more than I already am.”
“Ooo, I like that answer. Just for that, drinks are on me,” Tony said, offering one of the two champagne flutes he held to Stephen. “Didn’t spill a drop.”
Stephen took it even as he said, “Um thanks, really, but I was just about to head out.”
Resting his now free hand on Stephen’s where it was still holding his arm, Tony replied, “I know, and I wanted to talk to you for a minute before you left.”
“Oh,” Stephen said, his voice small. He downed half the glass of champagne he was holding in a fit of nerves.
“Careful, that’s the good stuff, not what I serve these heathens.”
“Thanks. You didn’t have to, you know.”
“No, I wanted to.”
“Oh,” Stephen repeated, feeling like an idiot but not sure what else to say.
Looking serious, Tony said, “Look, I am sorry if I am coming on too strong, but I really like you Stephen, and I’d like to spend more time with you.”
“No, you aren’t coming on too strong. I like strong, and I like you. Oh.” Stephen started to flush, realizing what he’d just said, but steeled himself, admitting, “Well, it’s true. I do like you. It is just sorta overwhelming. I mean you’re... all this,” he said gesturing around at the lavish penthouse, the high-tech tower it was in, the fireworks going off above them. “And I’m not.”
“Not what?” Tony asked gently. “You’re amazing! I mean, you’re a neurosurgeon who does real magic. That’s pretty hard to top.”
Stephen shrugged, “Maybe, but that is not really who I am.”
“And this isn’t me, either. That is why I’d like to spent some time with you, so we can really get to know one another.” Now it was Tony’s turn to shrug. “Look, I understand. It’s hard to let people in. We can take this as slow as you’d like or just forget the whole thing, but I’d really like to take you on a proper date sometime.”
“I’d like that too.”
“Great! Then, if you don’t mind, can I have your phone number so we can set something up when things calm down a bit?”
Stephen’s heart dropped a bit at that. Tony must have seen it on his face because he asked, “What? Too much?”
“No, it’s just, I actually don’t have a cell anymore, not since I took up studying magic.”
“That makes perfect sense, who needs a phone when you have the powers of the universe at your fingertips?”
“Plus, the service in Nepal and the Mirror Dimension both are terrible.”
Stephen expected Tony to ask about the Mirror Dimension, but instead he asked, “So, how do I contact you? Light some incense and chant?”
“No, actually, I was planning to get a new cell anyway,” Stephen lied.
Tony’s raised eyebrow said he didn’t believe that in the slightest, but out loud he said, “Great, here’s my card, you can hit me up when you get it.”
Stephen looked at the card. “‘Tony Stark: Genius.’ Really?”
“I didn’t design them, Pepper did.”
“It has your suit’s phone number on here.”
“Yeah, for when I’m flying around doing superhuman feats of heroism.”
“It’s the same number as your cell.”
“Maybe,” Tony said with a shrug. “But it looked so cool on the card.”
“Show off.”
“Showman, there’s a difference.”
“Only in your mind.”
Tony just smiled at him.
The group on the balcony with them had gone silent as the fireworks seemed to build into the grand finale, lighting the scene with brillant bursts of color. In the middle of it all, Tony stood there, smiling as if Stephen really was the amazing one. Suddenly, it was all a little too much for Stephen to handle. “Sorry,” he said. “I should probably go.”
Tony kept smiling, not a hint of disappointment or reproach in his voice as he said, “Of course, thanks for coming. I’ll be looking forward to hearing from you.”
“Thank you for inviting me,” Stephen said as he took a reluctant step back from Tony, getting ready to leave. “I’ll see you soon.”
He finished the glass of champagne and handed it back to Tony so he could put on his sling ring. He cast the gateway just in front of the guardrail, and Stephen stepped through and into Bleecker Street.
As the gateway began to close he turned to look back at Tony. Stephen smiled and waved at him as the gateway closed and Tony was lost from sight. He kept the smile as he moved farther into the house towards his bubble bath.
Stephen got the phone the next day. An older part of him wanted to get the latest smartphone and an expensive unlimited usage plan, but his better sense prevailed and he got a cheap contract phone, knowing that he was unlikely to need it much.
As soon as the new phone was fully charged, he programed in Tony’s number, then stared at the blinking cursor, unsure what to say. Somehow a text didn’t seem dramatic enough. After some thought, he instead took the doorway back to Nepal to ask Wong a favor.
Fifteen minutes later, he was standing in Tony’s room, looking down at the piece of parchment he had just lain on Tony's pillow. In Wong’s neat cursive it said, “Stephen Strange: Sorcerer Supreme, Guardian of New York Sanctum, MD PhD DClinSurg.” Beneath that, written in sanskrit was “For a good time call:” and his new phone number.
Stephen adjust it slightly so it was squarely in the center of the pillow before he left.
It was late that night when he received his first text, Cute. I like a good time.
This time Stephen was prepared, and, on the advice of a surprisingly culturally literate Wong, he typed, new phone, who dis?
The response was quick to come. Forgotten me already? It’s Tony Stark: Genius.
Oh, that’s a relief. I thought for a second it was Tony Stark: Arrogant Bastard.
Takes one to know one. Before Stephen could think of a reply, his phone chimed again. Are you busy Friday night?
Let me check. he typed, then waited a minute to make it seem like he was genuinely looking. No.
Great, I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear socks.
For what? Stephen demanded. There was no response, so after awhile he texted again, Is 'socks' some sort of code?
Sorry, can’t talk, I’m on the suit phone.
You texted me!
See you Friday. ;)
Stephen sighed in mock irritation, already wondering what Tony could have planned.