Tony Stark, as known as the infamous Iron Man, is constantly getting wounded in fights. Doctor Stephen Strange seems to be the only doctor suited for the job of helping Tony, but may end up helping him not just physically, but emotionally.
sequel is...
Despite the split between the heroes, the Avengers House still did exist, and was still used by those who actually had a brain when Steve and Tony fought over the accords.
That being said, a few people still lived there. Some would just drop by for a few days to visit, make nice, keep the peace, catch up after a spell or two.
Tony didn't live there, clearly, but he did visit often. Those who were still welcome would try to have a dinner party every Friday night, and Tony never missed a single one. Sometimes even those who lived far would make it down to their annual dinner party. The food was always exquisite, so it was worth it.
So it was a regular Friday of Peter coming to Tony's place after school, getting cleaned up, and the two going to the Avengers house together. It was a ritual. A routine. But this Friday afternoon was different.
When Peter had finally made it to Tony's place, the car in the driveway wasn't there. And the door was locked. Usually that wouldn't be a problem, since Peter had a spare key, but he forgot it at Aunt May's. So he couldn't get in.
He then whipped out his phone and had a quick convo with Tony.
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So Peter sat down on the front porch steps, opened Subway Surfers, and waited for Tony to come home.
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Tony and Stephen had finished their sandwiches hours ago, usually Stephen's lunch breaks weren't this long but he could make an exception.
The two had been talking about anything they could talk about, and after that, still have more to say.
But suddenly, Tony recieved Peter's text and remembered their evenings plans. It wasn't like he was cutting their date short, but something in him wanted to stay. He'd never felt that before with anyone else. The urge to talk to someone all day, into the hours of the night. And not wanting to sleep, or blink, or miss a thing. Tony was more to himself on personal affairs, but Stephen brought out a side of him where he felt like he could say anything and not be judged, and not in a way that Stephen was his therapist or anything.
He almost didn't say anything. He wanted to stay in the aroma of fresh sandwiches, listen to Stephen's voice and the bustling people of New York, and most importantly, he didn't want to lose sight of Stephen. He didn't want to lose sight of his green eyes, of his beautiful hands resting on the table before him, of his lips and how they curled into a smile when he looked at Tony, of his hair that he could perfectly run his hands through. He didn't want to go. He felt like a little kid, hiding somewhere in their friends house so he didn't have to go home.
But alas, Tony had plans, and Stephen had patients. After all, they did spend over three hours together when the original plan was forty five minutes. The two bid eachother goodbye, turning a tense handshake into a cute but, rather awkward, side hug. Both of them wanted more, but for the first time in awhile, the men who went after what they wanted, were to flustered to make a first move.
