- Hiraeth -

... Thirteen ...

OOLONG

All the time in the world was not enough for Stephen Strange - not when there were countless worlds and such tauntingly limited time in the one he called home. He'd gather stardust and hop galaxies if he had the time. He'd explore moons and learn things from otherworldly creatures, and he'd fit one of Saturn's rings onto Tony Stark's finger. In the grand scheme of things, what were they but specks in the emptiness of existence?

"A parking garage?" the sorcerer questioned, cracking a grin. In the dark, parking garages were alternate universes. They were dimensional
paradoxes, gorgeously suffocating, and apparently they were Tony's idea of a romantic getaway.

The odd lights from overhead made Stark's head feel fuzzy and his blood run warm. "You're not scared of heights, are you?" he asked, taking the spiral ramp all the way to the top of the building. It was completely empty. The engineer parked, hopping out of the car and running around to the passenger's side to open his date's door. However, Stephen had already let himself out, readjusting his hair and looking around.

The stars hung above them, and Strange found himself reaching a hand upward to be as close to them as possible. Could his magic contain a star? Could he watch it fizzle and explode? How many of his lifetimes would fit into that of a celestial body? Suddenly, he realized what he was doing. He came down from his tip-toes, and turned his head. Tony was staring at him. Stark seemed to ponder whether Strange had hung the stars there himself.

"I'm scared of you, Stephen Strange." Tony, overcome with foreign tenderness, leaned against his car. "You represent everything I'm not supposed to be." He relished in the confusion on the other's face before continuing. "Magic, emotion, affection- "

"They're not Stark Patented." Stephen nodded, his shoulders tensing. "And you're everything that I've moved on from, Tony Stark. Fame, fortune, idiocy." He threw that last one in for fun.

"Don't insult me on our first date." Putting his hands to his chest, Stark feigned offense. He reached into his glove compartment, producing a blanket and the sweatshirt that Stephen had given him. He walked out to the middle of the roof and spread the blanket out, sitting down afterwards.

Strange followed suit, placing himself cross-legged on the blanket. "Our first date." He rested his head in his hands, and his elbows on his legs. With piercing eyes, the former doctor performed surgery on Tony's mind. The engineer was scared behind his confident façade, and it made Stephen sad. He tried to think of a distraction. "Lay down and look at the stars with me. I'll teach you some constellations."

Tony and Stephen laid back, arms behind their heads. The former marveled at the sight before him, but he wasn't yet looking to the sky. While Strange had his gaze fixed on the cosmos, Stark caught himself staring at the sorcerer. "Wow me, pretty boy," he teased, biting the tip of his tongue at the end of his sentence. Tony had so much more to say, and absolutely no intention of letting any of it out.

Scoffing playfully, Stephen pointed to a cluster of stars. "Can you connect the dots in your head? There's a trapezoid with a long tail that zigzags upwards. It's called Draco." He traced the lines with his finger, squinting.

"It just looks like a bunch of freckles. I don't see any shapes." The engineer sighed as he tried his best to concentrate. He could connect wires and invent life-saving tech, but he couldn't see how a few points of light formed a picture.

"Okay..." Strange had an idea. He lifted both hands towards the sky, spinning the index and middle fingers of both hands around each other until a spool of golden thread appeared. With the thread, he outlined the constellation Draco.

All the time in the world was not enough for Tony Stark - not while there were still so many things he did not know. He could spend endless forevers staring into the abyss called space, as long as he had Stephen by his side. Stark found it impossible to form words as his date outlined several constellations, naming each one as he went. Strange's voice faded off as Tony entered the world of his thoughts.

"You're not paying attention." Stephen, disgruntled, frowned to himself. He looked over at the smaller man, who simply smiled at him. "What?"

Tony sat up, cracking his back and giving Strange a wicked grin. "Nuthin', muffin'." He removed his jacket, then his dress shirt. His arc reactor shone in Stephen's face, who squinted in confusion. Stark then put on the sweatshirt he'd grabbed earlier. It still smelled like its owner, floral and familiar. "Just thought I should get comfy." He felt vulnerable, and for once, didn't mind it all that much. His eyelids had been heavy for a little while, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up against Stephen's chest to fall asleep.

With a sigh, the former doctor sat up as well. The golden threads above him faded away. "That's a good idea." He wished he'd brought something to change into, but of course he didn't. They were supposed to go to a nice restaurant, not the roof of a parking garage. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves, letting the fabric hang loosely around his forearms.

"Well now you're just teasing me," Tony joked, gesturing to the rest of Stephen's shirt. "Just take it off."

"Um..." Reddening, Strange shook his head. He was not prepared to embarrass himself by trying and failing to undo any more buttons. The two that he'd already done had his hands aching a bit, so he stretched and squeezed his fingers to relax his muscles.

Getting the hint, Stark frowned playfully. He scooted closer to his date, mischief playing in his eyes. "Lemme help." He reached for the second button on Stephen's shirt, since the first was already undone, but the sorcerer moved away.

"I don't need help," Stephen protested, beginning to fumble with the button himself. He got it undone, but was unable to hide the pained expression on his face.

Tony looked Strange up and down, insisting, "I know. Sometimes we can have things that we don't need." The engineer's smile returned as Stephen allowed himself to be closer. With a bit of his shirt unbuttoned, Tony could see the former doctor's prominent collarbones. He wanted to kiss them.

"Okay," was the only response from the sorcerer. Sighing, he allowed the other to help him.

No, all the time in the world would never be enough - not as long as such a stifling silence encased them both, and darkness fell like a silken blanket over their limbs as breath mingled.

It wasn't much, just a grazing of knuckles over a pale chest as a billionaire tried to undo a particularly difficult button.

Tony was lucky. He was able to watch as primary colors seeped into Stephen's skin, forming a sharp oval in the center of his chest. Some blues and yellows bled together, making a large green
area directly in the middle of the soul mark.

Stephen clasped a hand over his mouth, tears forming in his eyes as what felt like a knife wound made a home in his chest. He'd heard that everyone had different physical symptoms, but he never imagined that it would hurt so much. With a glance into Stark's eyes, the sorcerer could tell that his soulmate wasn't feeling the same excruciating pain. He couldn't see Tony's mark yet, but he knew that it was there. There was no other explanation.

Before Stephen was able to form any words through his agony, he felt shaking hands cup his face. His lips were pressed to Tony's, and any pain in his body turned to a warm, fuzzy feeling.

Golden lines ran from Stark's knuckles to the bases of his hands. It was like amber in his veins. He made an impulse decision, and kissed his soulmate. God, what a good idea. His heart raced, and he couldn't keep himself from smiling against the other's mouth.

For once, Strange was the first to speak. His voice was hoarse, but he managed, "The universe hates me."

They both broke into fits of laughter, having to hold their stomachs. They were nervous, jumpy, and absolutely hysterical. Tony wiped the tears from Stephen's face, and they scrunched their noses at each other.

"Screw you, Dumbledore," was his only response. He couldn't stop looking between the taller male's eyes and chest, completely overwhelmed by the current situation.

In retaliation, Stephen kissed Stark again. It was hungrier, more desperate than before - as if he'd been waiting too long. Once he pulled away, he took Tony's hands in his own. They looked incredibly similar. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man's waist, pulling him into his chest. They stayed like that for a long time, but it would never be long enough.

By the Vishanti, it felt like home.