glad that phase is gone

dam-iminalotoffandoms  asked:

If you still want to write stranger things may I request fluffy mileven? Literally anthing post season 2 like I dont mind if its snowball, a week later, a month, a year, whatever inspiration hits. I'm desperate for post season 2 mileven fluff so anything you got would be awesome :)

Mike has a collection of flashlights.

They are overwhelmingly gifts from Jim Hopper.

“In case the power goes out.”

“Can’t have you tripping.”

“You can’t fight if you can’t see.”

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Honeymoon Phase

Written on my iPad, again. Apparently I only ever get the motivation to write when I’m in town. Mum told me an adorable story about how her friends got engaged recently and it was too perfectly stevetony for me not to use it. So here we are! Sorry for any mistakes.

****

The trip to Fiji had been impromptu at best. Steve would be starting a new job in a week, having finally gotten the call to be the new curator at the art gallery uptown, and Tony had insisted they take some time to themselves before Steve “became too much of a big shot to spend time with his boyfriend”. As if he could ever be out of the genius inventor’s league. But he’d never been out of the country before, and a few days spent with Tony when he wasn’t distracted by the latest project sounded perfect to Steve, so he’d happily agreed.

Tony had been unusually on edge since they’d planned the trip, and a part of Steve worried it was because Tony really did think he would lose interest over his new job. They had date nights at least a few times a week, and when he was only doing art by commission Steve would often drop in on Tony with lunch, where they would spend hours forgetting they had anything close to responsibilities while they were busy staring lovingly into each other’s eyes.

Sometimes it still surprised Steve, in the most pleasant way, that after two years the honeymoon phase had never quite gone away. He was glad, because Tony had been clear from the beginning how he felt about marriage. There would never be any actual kind of honeymoon.

Which Steve was fine with. If he sometimes wondered how it would feel to see a shiny ring on Tony’s finger, to know that they had proclaimed to the whole world that they only belonged to each other, it didn’t really matter. He was just glad to have Tony at all. In whatever capacity Tony wanted.

So, Steve was looking forward to the mini holiday. He looked forward to spending some time in the sun with Tony by his side and hoped it would do something to relax them both.

That hope went out the window the moment they stepped into their hotel room and saw the rose petals on the bed. The ones that said ‘will you marry me, Tony?’

Steve froze. His entire body locked up and his brain shut down.

For a moment, one crazy moment, he wondered if he’d organised this and somehow forgotten. He looked back on their bookings and phone calls and packing and tried to find any moment where’d he’d decided to propose to his commitment-phobic boyfriend in Fiji at the start of what was supposed to be an enjoyable holiday.

Unsurprisingly, he came up blank. But no less panicked.

He turned to look at Tony and felt himself go pale. Tony’s head was in his hand and his shoulders were trembling, ever so slightly. Oh, God.

“Tony - ” he tried. Swallowed. Tried again. “Tony, I didn’t - I would never - I know you don’t - ” and when all of that failed, he just said again, in a somewhat broken voice, “Tony.”

Slowly, Tony dragged his hand away from his face. He didn’t look Steve on the eyes. Oh, fuck, Tony wouldn’t even look at him.

Steve could feel he was close to hyperventilating. He couldn’t lost Tony. Not over some stupid mistake like this.

But then - then Tony was crouching - was kneeling, was reaching his hand into his pocket, and, oh god he was pulling out a small velvet box.

“I - ” Tony’s voice was shaky, and he still wasn’t looking at Steve - “I fucked up, Steve, I’m sorry, this wasn’t - god, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, there must have been a mixup, I’m sorry, I - ” he stopped, took a deep breath. “It was meant to say… It was ,want to say Steve. On the bed. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m sorry.” He huffed what could have been a laugh, only it sounded so scared. “I don’t even know if I’m on the right knee. Is there a certain knee you’re mean to be on when you do this? I don’t know, I - fuck.”

Steve could only stare. He stared as Tony, with shaking fingers, opened the box to show a simple, gleaming silver ring. “I fucked this up, I’m sorry, but Steve…” Tony sounded close to tears at this point. “Steve, would you marry me?”

“You - ” it was like Steve was underwater, everything seemed foggy and underwater. “Tony, what are you doing? You don’t want to get married.”

It sounded closer to a real laugh this time. “I thought that too, for a long time. I never thought I’d want this. But God, Steve, you - I want this with you. You’re all I want.”

Steve was panicking. He knew he was, and he couldn’t stop it. “Tony, stop. You don’t have to do this, I’m fine with - I would never make you do this Tony, you know that right? I love you, you don’t have to - ”

“I want to.” Steve had never heard such conviction in Tony’s voice. Not about anything. “I want to marry you, Steve. If you’ll… let me.”

Steve stared some more, and he saw the determination on Tony’s face, he watched as Tony shifted slightly on his knee - his right knee, and Steve knew you were supposed to use the left, he’d looked it up, because he was sappy and romantic and had never completely stopped himself from hoping - and finally, he came to his senses.

He collapsed on the ground in front of Tony, bringing him into his arms, holding him tightly, burying his face into Tony’s neck. “Of course. Oh, Tony, of course I will, I’d love to, I’d love to marry you.”

He leaned back, looked into Tony’s eyes, Tony’s wide, hopeful eyes, and kissed him in a way he was fairly certain he’d never kissed him before. So full of love and excitement and gratitude, and he’d always kissed Tony with love but never with such promise. Tony had never kissed him back with such fervour. He was certain of it.

When they broke apart, much later, sitting on the floor of their hotel room with the wrong name spelled out on the bed, Steve couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him. Tony looked at him, content in a way Steve rarely saw.

“I guess we get another honeymoon phase,” Steve said, and he knew his voice sounded kind of watery, but it was okay, because Tony’s eyes were glistening when he laughed.

“That phase never ended for me,” he said. He offered the ring again.

Steve took it, carefully, and slid it onto his ring. It fit perfectly, of course. “Same here,” he whispered. He didn’t think the honeymoon phase would ever end.