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Even when Tony Stark had just been a superhero, albeit a reckless and selfless one, in newspapers and tabloids, the one thing that had made Stephen pause was Tony Stark’s eyes.
Those eyes were, even to the then arrogant Stephen Strange, a thing of beauty.
The molten chocolate golden brown was beyond any other countless brown or blues or greys or greens he had come across in his career as a world-renowned neurosurgeon and a socialite, having small talks with neverending list of people.
Those brown orbs, even on just a pale page of the newspaper or a screen, seemed to have endless depth.
Stephen was stumped as to what it was that was so special about Tony Stark’s eyes.
Now that Stephen had earned the chance to be in close proximity to those eyes and see them for real with his own, he was still just as stumped.
Stephen had seen those brown orbs express emotions so strong he hadn’t known how they had overtaken him, whether to jest or to argue, or to feel comfort from the genius.
Then the million lifetimes had happened, and Stephen Strange had returned a man with millions of sonnets on Tony Stark’s surreal, soulful eyes embedded in his very soul.
Tony’s eyes had him transfixed any time he dared to look into them for more than a split moment.
He would watch Tony’s big molten eyes look up at him with glee, and Stephen would feel as if there was no bigger happiness to be achieved. Tony’s eyes would look down in rare bashfulness and Stephen’s heart would constrict with such intense fondness he himself would have to look away lest he try to hold onto the man never to let him go. Tony would look up at Stephen through his long lashes, and Stephen’s heart would stutter painfully.
A divine punishment for himself is what Stephen would call for Tony, who had the most beautiful soul, to be blessed with eyes that held the sky and earth and Stephen’s whole universe.
Those eyes glistening with tears of happiness were a beauty Stephen would never fathom to describe, even if he ripped his way across all the words in infinite incomprehensible languages this endless multiverse held. Those happy, tear-filled eyes were Stephen’s very salvation.
And when those eyes filled with tears of hurt and pain and betrayal, Stephen’s fury would turn into an inferno so wild that no one other than Tony could stop him from being the very executioner for those who wronged Tony.
Stephen would never understand how Tony’s previous teammates didn’t see the man’s very soul through his transparent orbs. How could they hurt this man so irrevocably when he had held nothing but concern and love for those ungrateful bastards?
He didn’t understand how Rogers could look into Tony’s grieving eyes and lie to him, let alone raise his shield against him.
Stephen would never understand.
Perhaps those people had always been blind, had never been human enough to look beyond the gold and titanium armor to look at the man who had endangered himself time and time again to save this terrible world.
But Stephen wouldn’t be like them. Ever.
He vows on Vishanti that he would never hurt Tony, let alone allow any hurt to come anywhere near him. Tony, being more than capable of protecting himself physically, wouldn’t stop Stephen from protecting his selfless heart.
Those eyes would never have to shed a single drop of tear that did not come from utter and absolute joy.
Those eyes allowed Stephen the grace to enter Tony’s orbit front the very first moment he had met them through the newspaper on a random Monday in the Metro General’s canteen. "The truth is... I am Iron Man." Stephen had been impressed, sure, but those eyes brimming with accountability, determination and yet fear and grief at the same time, captivated him.
Now years and lifetimes later, he could gaze into those eyes without hesitation. Those eyes which pulled him into whatever Tony was feeling, may it be a bright incandescent joy, or mirth, or gloom or fury…Stephen felt what Tony felt, as if Tony’s heart itself had opened a doorway for Stephen through his eyes.
For millions of lives, Stephen had gazed into those eyes, had fallen into those eyes, and had wept as he closed lids over those lifeless eyes.
But in this lifetime, Stephen had made sure to fight fate itself to keep the light from those eyes from being extinguished.
He had Tony here, right now; he had those big brown eyes looking at him with love, adoration, and trust now.
Now he had Tony’s eyes glancing at him again and again as if he couldn’t help himself.
He had Tony’s eyes bright with joy as he watched the Cloak and Dum-E’s silly games. What more could Stephen want from this universe?
As Stephen got up to join the radiant joy of the owner of those peerless orbs and dropped a soft kiss at the corner of those crinkly eyes, earning a giddy giggle for his effort, he thanked the universe for allowing him the gift of being the one those brown eyes looked at with devotion, his own blues reflected.