Ternion (FrostIronStrange)

Part 7

Tony woke, knowing without opening his eyes that he was in the Sanctum. He recognised the silence of the place, the feeling of calm it gave him. There was no background hum from his machines, no incessant roaring of the sea. Rolling onto his back, he placed his hand beneath his head looking up at the ceiling, lost in thought now that his mind was clear from the emotional outburst from yesterday.

Peter had been in danger from someone who wanted revenge because of him.

He and Stephen had kissed, admitting feelings for each other.

Loki had helped them, had been there when he'd had a breakdown, staying rather than leaving in disgust.

Tony had experienced threesomes in the past, saw no issue in sharing his body with multiple partners, but having feelings for two people? It was the cliché crap that romance novelists loved, the triangle, the uncertainty.

He'd felt shame before, several times in fact.

Weapon dealing.

Looking at his former Avengers on the Raft.

This wasn't far from that. He loved Stephen, he knew that for a certainty. Yet fear was holding him back.

You're only going to fuck it up, destroy another relationship.

He didn't need the reminder, thank you.

But he wanted Stephen. Wanted the kisses, the hugs, to be intimate with him. There were other softer things he craved too, coming together after work, talking on the phone, dates over coffee.

Loki, though...

Tony rubbed his temples. He was desperately attracted to him, both for his body, his sharp wit and sass, but also for the vulnerable side Tony rarely saw. It was curiosity. He could sense a darkness in him, one that called out to a matching one in Tony, the need to possess, a desperate craving, to be obsessive and obsessed over.

Both appealing in different ways, both tugging at aspects of his personality.

What makes you think you deserve either?

He pushed the covers back, stretching his arms as he got out of bed.

Coffee.

Coffee would help him think straight.

Stephen was sat at the Sanctum kitchen table, tea cradled in his hands, a matching mug sat opposite in pieces.

'Morning,' Tony chirped, heading towards the coffee machine he's insisted Wong buy when he started visiting the wizards.

'Morning,' Stephen grunted.

'Something wrong with that mug? Venturing into obscure art pieces?'

'Tony? Can I talk to you?'

No. That was something he did not want to do. His head felt all over the place. He couldn't give Stephen the answer he deserved.

'What do you think we're doing now, Doc? Seriously though, make it snappy, need to make sure my company's still running, that Pepper hasn't given herself a pay rise, did you know that-'

'It's important.'

Tony shut right up. Despite wanting to avoid the whole what-are-we conversation, he was concerned at how Stephen looked, bags under his eyes, hands trembling more than usual. He recognised the look of someone pulling an all-nighter and looking terrible for it.

'Shoot.' He sat, sweeping the broken mug aside.

'I haven't been completely honest with you, about how I saved you from Thanos.'