smth about hand holding ll accepting ( @xstrange )

          “ How’s this? ” 

There’s a mess of sheets around them; bodies sprawled on the bed, facing each other, feet barely touching - just around the very tips of their toes - and Tony’s shoulder feels a bit numb thanks to the way he uses his arm as a pillow. Despite being this close to Stephen, Tony’s eyes are captivated by another thing entirely - just above them, he’s got their hands pressed together: his own stretched neatly, fingers spread wide ( and there are faint marks on his skin, marks that time had left, that past experience had scarred him with; reminders of what he had done, how far he had come - and they are nothing, he thinks, compared to the rough feel of Stephen’s skin. Compared to the way his fingers - bent, shaken - feel against his own ), supporting, almost, of the weight Stephen offers against them. 

         His voice is quiet, not hesitant, but sympathetic; a tone, he hopes, would give Stephen comfort to speak on. “ Does this hurt? “