#lokitony

“What’s all this?”

Loki looks up, his hand freezing mid-air before he schools his expression to one of innocence. Tony blinks back at him, looking tired, but his tone is amused and his eyes are fond, which in turns softens Loki’s resolve. “I made dinner,” he answers simply, because that much has already been given away.

“I can see that.” Tony grins, moving closer. “Why though?” He’s almost within arm's reach, but he darts away before Loki can touch. “I know what you’re trying to do and that’s not playing fair; don’t try and distract me,” he says, still smiling. Damn him, he’s going to spoil Loki’s entire plan. “I want to see.”

“You’re home early,” Loki tells him in response, stepping back into his path to block his line of sight. “I’m not ready for you yet.”

“But you’re almost done, aren’t you? Come on Lokes, indulge me, please? It’s been a long day, and-”

“I know,” Loki says, stepping closer, and this time, Tony lets himself be pulled into a hug. “You had back-to-back meetings for your company for a better part of the day, and then you went straight to a meeting with your teammates. That’s why I made-”

“My favorite.” Tony leans back just enough to make eye contact, his eyes warm and touched as he tilts up to press a light kiss to Loki’s jaw. “You made lasagna, my favorite meal, just because you knew I had a long day today?”

“A long and stressful day,” Loki corrects, because Tony is all too prone to downplaying his own grievances. “I thought comfort food might be a nice surprise to come home to- but mostly, I did it to make you smile.”

Tony, instead of answering, kisses him. Loki can feel his smile against his lips and is hard pressed to contain a smile of his own. The so-called “honeymoon phase” of their relationship has long passed as they’ve endured conflict and injury both personally and to their relationship, not to mention the many fights they’ve had over time, but their relationship has grown all the stronger for it and the result is this: a beautiful and powerful bond unlike any Loki has ever had before. It’s certainly more than he ever allowed himself to hope for.

There’s a huff of laughter against his collarbone. “I guess I’m not enough to keep you occupied anymore,” Tony fake pouts, his eyes all too amused as he leans up to kiss Loki’s jaw, then the corner of his mouth. “Where’d you go just now without me?”

“I went nowhere without you,” Loki tells him, “For I have you still in my arms, do I not? Besides, you were the subject of my thoughts.”

Tony waggles an eyebrow at him. “Oh really? Do tell.”

“Tonight, I will,” Loki tells him, stepping back after one final kiss. “For now-” He stops, laughing at the muffled whine that escapes Tony at his departure. “For now,” he continues, “I have a table to finish setting while you hide away, because I have another fifteen minutes still before you were due home.”

Tony’s face goes through a variety of emotions unexpectedly, all in an instant, before he explains his early arrival: “The meeting went sideways, so I ducked out early.” His tone is just a little too nonchalant to hide his stress and perhaps, pain as well.

There’s a great deal many things he could say in response, but all Loki says is, gently, “Then it’s all the more important that I take care to ensure dinner is perfect. If you wish, you may change into something more comfortable-” He stops at the look in Tony’s eyes. “Or you could take a seat and let me spoil you as I wish.”

Tony ducks his head at his words, but his blush is obvious. “Can I help set the table?” he offers instead.

“That’s fine,” Loki agrees and, unable to quell the rush of affection he feels for the other, steps closer and leans down to kiss the top of Tony’s head.

If Tony is surprised by the gesture, he doesn’t show it, he just sets to work on lighting the candles like Loki motions for him to do. Between the two of them, it takes only a few minutes to finish setting the table. FRIDAY turns the music on quiet and brings the lights down to low at his request, and just like that, everything is ready.

Tony still has that warm, fond gleam in his eyes as he sits down in the chair Loki pulls out for him. “You’re really going all-out tonight, aren’t you?” he says.

Loki gives a one-shouldered shrug as he sits to Tony’s right. “That’s the plan.”

“Why?” He quickly backtracks by adding, “I know why, you said so already, it’s just… why?”

Loki takes a moment to find the right words. “You have been under immense pressure these last several months with the return of your teammates,” he says. “I have seen the weight it has placed on your shoulders; the grief you have endured. I can do very little to relieve that burden in some way, but I can offer this: an evening of relaxation, of comfort, to hopefully offer a reprieve to some of your stress.”

Tony is quiet for a minute. Loki watches him silently, more fond than anything; he's perfectly content to wait for a response. “You’re right, it has been a pretty rough few months,” he says finally. “Having to work alongside everyone again, trying to rebuild trust…it’s hard.”

The exhaustion he came home feeling is clear to see now. Loki reaches out, taking Tony’s hand in his with a gentle squeeze. Tony gives him a small smile, his expression easing. “What you did tonight is amazing, I really appreciate it, and in a moment I’m going to shut up so we can eat, but really, if you’re trying to make me feel better, all I need is you.”

“You’re not going to stop me from spoiling you tonight,” Loki tells him, because he knows that’s what Tony is really trying to say. “But I appreciate your sentiment, and I know you mean it.”

“Of course I do,” Tony answers as if he thinks Loki’s mere presence is all he needs to be happy, like that’s as simple and easy as breathing. It’s a sentiment that never fails to steal Loki’s breath away and leave him in utter awe.

Tony’s smiling like he knows exactly what his words have done to him, which, he probably does. Loki’s left with only one thing to do: he leans across the table and kisses him.

“At this rate, we might never get around to dinner,” Tony murmurs against his lips, stealing another kiss and then another, causing Loki to lean forward for another. “We might just have to skip right to dessert.”

Loki reluctantly pulls away, just barely resisting the urge to close the distance between them again. “And have my hard work turn cold and become tomorrow’s leftovers? Not a chance."

Tony groans. “Fine, you win. But-”

“Tonight,” Loki promises.

It’s with that thought that they cut into the lasagna and begin to eat. Their meal passes exactly as Loki intended: good food combined with pleasant conversation and laughter noticeably eases the tension in Tony’s shoulders as the evening goes on. By the time they’ve set the dishes in the sink for later and have retired to the sofa, Tony is very clearly much more relaxed than he had been when he had first gotten home.

Tony, as he usually is able to after being friends and being together for so long, seems to read his mind with ease. “Thank you,” he says quietly as they sit down together, barely any space between them. “I needed that.”

“It’s what you deserve,” Loki answers him softly. “I’m glad I could help.”

“You always do.” Tony moves closer until he is tucked under his arm, his head on Loki’s chest. “How’d it go at New Asgard today?”

Loki sighs. “Decently, I suppose. Many people are still struggling to acclimate and to rebuild their life here, which is understandable. However, Thor, Val, and I were able to make notable progress in our designs for the right direction for New Asgard, and I believe in a few months we’ll see the fruits of our labor.”

“But?”

“But it was stressful,” Loki admits. “There are understandable tensions that remain against me from many, and that is not a strain that time may necessarily heal.”

“Maybe not fully,” Tony agrees, “But progress can take different forms. There’s effort that needs to be made on both sides.”

“Now you’re just echoing my words,” Loki tells him; he had said nearly the same thing to Tony months ago when the Rogue Avengers had first returned to the states.

“It helped me to hear,” Tony shrugs. “Figured maybe you needed to hear your own advice.”

“I am clever, aren’t I.”

Tony laughs. “You’re dating me, so I’m not so sure about that.” Despite his words, he doesn’t sound resigned to a bitter truth he falsely believes; actually, he just sounds amused.

“You’re right, I’m not clever: I’m a genius of the highest intellect,” Loki agrees. “I saw what too few did; I saw the opportunity of a lifetime at your side, and now we are here.”

Tony snorts. “Charmer.”

“Is it charm, if I’m telling the truth?” Loki leans down to kiss the top of his head.

“Now you’re just flattering me,” Tony says, laughing. He laughs so easily with him, Loki’s discovered, and he loves that. “But this does beat getting thrown out a window or being enemies from afar, I’ll give you that. And the sex is phenomenal.”

Loki startles out a laugh, flushing slightly despite himself. “I’m glad you think so.”

Tony leans back a little, eyes twinkling. “I know so.” He shifts, tilting closer to press a kiss to Loki’s jaw at the spot that always makes him shiver. He can feel Tony’s smile as he does just that, and no doubt that’s the exact reason that Tony kisses him there again. He hovers close in his space as he trails kisses along his jaw, until finally, Loki can kiss him properly.

Loki pulls him closer until Tony is in his lap, until barely any space exists between them. He brings one hand to Tony’s hip, holding him steady as he brings the other up to cup his face. Tony leans into his touch just so, his eyes fluttering closed as Loki traces his thumb over the corner of his mouth. It’s easy to pull Tony in for a kiss, and then another. Loki gets lost in the moment, time not even a distant thought anymore as Tony moans softly, providing him the chance he wants to deepen their kiss.

Finally, Loki leans back, pressing their foreheads together lightly as he gives Tony a chance to catch his breath. “ Fuck , Loki,” Tony murmurs against his mouth, his breathing heavy and unsteady. He rocks closer as Loki trails his hand up his side, his breath hitching.

“May I?” Loki asks in way of response, touching the fabric of Tony’s suit jacket in silent request.

Tony nods, something in his expression easing as Loki’s Seiðr dissolves his jacket. Tony undoes the first few buttons of his suit shirt and then leans back in, kissing him soundly until Loki’s left breathing heavily.

Perhaps that has something to do with the fact that he can feel Tony already half-hard against him, or maybe it has something to do with the fact that Tony’s in his lap—

Or maybe it’s a combination of both; Tony moans quietly against his mouth, shamelessly rolling his hips as he does so. Loki moans at that, unable to keep quiet, his grip on Tony’s hip tightening with barely retained composure.

“Tony-”

“Bedroom,” Tony finishes for him, grinding down once more. His suit pants really leave nothing to the imagination, and Norns help him, Loki wants.

It takes hardly a single thought to gather his Seiðr and bring them to their bedroom. Loki eases Tony onto his back, settling between his legs as he follows him down to kiss him. He balances most of his weight on his left hand, careful to only put so much on Tony as he uses his right hand to finish undoing the buttons of Tony’s shirt.

Tony whines against his lips, arching into his touch with a breathless murmur of his name. “I’ve got you,” Loki promises as he gentles their kiss to something softer, sweeter. He touches his hand to the center of Tony’s chest; a simple brush of his Seiðr is all that’s needed to remove Tony’s shirt.

“You too,” Tony says, pleads, tugging on Loki’s shirt as he trails his hand up Loki’s side to his neck, tucking loose strands of hair behind his ear. Loki shivers at his touch, following his request as he makes his shirt dissolve. Tony runs his hand over his chest as soon as he’s able to; at the same time, he leans up to meet him halfway as Loki leans down and kisses him.

It’s easy to get lost in the moment, his attention narrowing to the sounds he can drag out of Tony. He presses a kiss to Tony’s throat just under his ear, quietly thrilling in the way Tony shivers at his touch with a faint whimper. He takes his time pressing kisses down Tony’s throat until he reaches his collarbone; he’s not in any hurry, not when he knows they have the entire evening and all night.

“Loki,” Tony moans, arching up into his touch in a clear request for more, and oh, that’s lovely.

Loki surges up to kiss Tony and tells him exactly that, saying roughly, “Lovely man; do you have any idea what you do to me?”

Tony laughs breathlessly against him, eyes sparkling as he says, “The same you do to me, I’d imagine.” He rolls his hips against Loki’s to emphasize his point, and message received.

Desire strikes him so fiercely at the action that Loki’s control wanes for a moment; his Seiðr dancing along Tony’s skin in a warm tease that leaves him trembling and pleading for more. Loki exhales shakily and controls his Seiðr, letting it soothe along Tony’s sides as he slowly moves down, pressing kisses to Tony’s chest and then to his stomach.

He hesitates when he reaches Tony’s waistband, searching for permission, and all Tony says is a fierce, “If you dare stop now, you’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”

Loki laughs, unable to help himself, as he helps Tony out of his pants and then his boxers. His own arousal is straining against his pants, almost uncomfortably so, but Loki ignores it as he settles back down between Tony’s legs.

“May I-”

“Yes, yes, please,” Tony answers before he can finish, his breathing uneven and clearly quickening with anticipation.

Loki kisses the inside of Tony’s thigh in response, bringing one hand up to part Tony’s legs a little to give himself more room. Tony trembles under him as he lightly brushes his fingertips across Tony’s thigh, moving closer to his cock— but he purposely does not touch him.

Tony whines, a cut-off sound of frustration that Loki delights in. He’s in full control of what happens and they both know it, just as they both also know that his entire focus is spoiling Tony and giving him what he wants.

Just not right away, that’s all.

He kisses the inside of Tony’s thigh again, trailing his fingers over his abdomen as he does, and lets his Seiðr curl around Tony’s cock. Tony moans, rocking into his touch, and his breath hitches as he gives a ragged call of his name.

Loki grins, letting his Seiðr tease Tony for a few moments more before he leans down and finally takes Tony’s cock in his mouth. Tony’s responding exhale is somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, and it’s perfect.

After over a year of dating, Loki knows exactly what makes Tony shiver with ecstasy, what makes him gasp, and most of all- he knows what makes him lose control. And that’s his goal: to tease Tony into his first orgasm; then, he’ll eat him out until Tony is hard and leaking again. Then, and only then, will he fuck Tony until he comes for a second time.

It’s what Loki has been looking forward to doing all day: spoiling Tony exactly as he deserves to be treated.

So that’s exactly what he does.

Later Tony tells him, curled into his arms with his head on his chest, “I was right, by the way.”

There’s a beat of silence as Loki waits for him to finih his thought.

“Sex with you is phenomenal.” Tony’s quiet for a moment, and then he admits, “It’s perfect, even.”

He’s not just talking about sex, Loki knows.

The first time it happens, it begins with Tony getting knocked out of the air and sent crashing through the wall of the nearest building. “Son of a bitch,” he groans, slowly getting to his hands and knees. “That’s it, can someone please end this- fuck.” He gets knocked back down with a muffled cry of pain, and he’s barely able to roll onto his side to avoid being crushed when the building he smashed into begins crumbling; apparently, because his luck works like this, he took out a central support beam when he went through the wall.

The comms are loud with people trying to check on him but Tony ignores them all, saying shortly, “JARVIS-”

JARVIS gets him only 14 inches in the air before the building starts to come down for real. His HUD suddenly makes note of someone appearing in his blind spot and then-

Tony blinks, and he’s out in the middle of the street, Loki’s arms around him.

“Do you know how lucky you are to be alive?” Loki explodes at him, letting him go gently despite the anger in his voice. “Had I not been there, you would have been crushed!”

“What?!” Steve yelps from over the comms.

Tony grimaces in anticipation of the lecture he knows is coming later, and he’s thankful that Loki can’t see his expression through his helmet as he responds, “I had it handled, mostly. JARVIS was gonna get me out, I would have been fine.”

“Sir, given the situation, it is actually unlikely that I-”

“Mute,” Tony tells him. He doesn’t need to add any additional fuel to the fire.

Loki glares at him, arms folded across his chest. “Well, are you okay?” he demands. The anger is gone from his voice now, leaving concern in its place.

“Perfectly fine, don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” Tony tells him without breaking stride. It’s not really true, he’s definitely got a broken rib, or two…but otherwise, he’s fine. What he (and the rest of the team) doesn't know won't hurt them. Judging by Loki's facial expression, he doesn't really seem to agree with him. "Really, I'm fine," Tony says again.

“You're 'fine,’ you say.” Loki gives him an unimpressed look. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you have trust issues?” Tony counters. He knows he gets away with it only because this is how their friendship works. “Now, can I go back to the battle now, or are you going to continue to bother me?”

Loki sputters at him. “That’s how you thank me for saving your life, by saying I’m bothering you? See if I risk my life a second time for you, you ungrateful twit.”

Tony snorts. “Yeah, yeah, love you too, Lokes.” He gives Loki a salute and takes to the sky, but he can’t resist adding, “And by the way, no one says ‘twit’ anymore, Lokes, you need to brush up on your Midgardian slang.”

Loki snarks back a crude response under his breath, but Tony hears him just fine and laughs. The comms are quiet for a moment before Clint goes, “So…when am I getting a cute nickname?”

“You already have one, Legolas,” Tony tells him, giving him a wave as he flies by and takes out the alien approaching Clint’s roof. “Save my life and maybe I’ll reconsider giving you a new one.”

Clint’s responding sigh- a very well put-out sigh that is closer to a pout, might Tony add, is well worth the lecture that Steve later gives him for clogging up the comms with nonessential chatter.

*****

The second time it happens, it’s a few days later when he and Loki are fighting. The battle that morning had gone wrong, resulting in thankfully, only many minor injuries across the team- with the exception of Tony’s second broken rib and fractured wrist. He’s left mostly unable to work thanks to the pain from his wrist (consequences of refusing to go on pain meds), and that fact, more than anything else, has him annoyed. And very frustrated.

And maybe slightly ready to explode.

Look, he’s in pain and he’s sore and he’s kicking himself for going down awkwardly and being the cause of his own injuries, okay? All he wants is to be left alone to wallow and feel sorry for himself, except at a little past two in the morning, Loki apparently decides it’s a good time to join him in the workshop.

Tony’s really not in the mood for company.

“If you’re here to lecture me on getting hurt two battles in a row, save it,” he says, turning away from the door before Loki can so much as take a single step inside. “I’ve heard it three times already, and I swear if you try to make me hear it again-”

“You deserve to hear it again,” Loki snaps. “You got hurt, again.”

Tony turns back at the pointed message in his tone, raising an eyebrow at him. “Is that a criticism of my abilities in battle, or a comment on how I’m the most fragile member of the team?”

Loki scowls at him. “If you really think I’d say either to you, then you don’t know me at all.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have come barreling in here without warning at half past ass o’clock in the morning and led with, ‘you got hurt, again.’”

“You’re the one who greeted me by saying you didn’t want to be lectured a fourth time. You could have just said hello- I’m told being polite is supposed to be a common Midgardian characteristic, though judging by our current conversation, that seems a concept foreign to you.”

Tony snorts, disbelief clouding his tone. “So you weren’t coming to lecture me?”

Loki doesn’t respond right away, which is answer enough as far as he’s concerned.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re just like all the others, you think I’m the weak link on this team. Look, just because I get hurt more often than the rest of you doesn’t mean I don’t pull my weight. Cause I seem to recall helping your ass out earlier when you were surrounded, and then I went and backed up Cap and Thor, so all things considered, I think I’ve proven that I can handle myself.”

“Not without grave injury to your person.”

“Oh well I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect, but we can’t all be strong demi-gods like you. I’m human, which means I bleed easier, break down and get sick easier- but that doesn’t mean I’m weak!”

“Stop putting words in my mouth,” Loki snaps. “I am not trying to say you’re weak!”

“Well, you’ve got a hell of a way of conveying otherwise, sweetheart, because everything I’ve heard from you in the last two minutes seems to be pointing out some sort of flaw of mine!”

They stare at each other, breathing hard.

“I’m done with this conversation,” Tony tells him, weary all of a sudden. “You know where the door is.”

Loki leaves without further comment, but he still makes his displeasure known as he slams the door behind him.

They don’t talk for two days after that. In fact, Tony doesn’t see Loki once during that time. Which is fine, he’s not really in the mood for company anyway, and it’s not like he’s regretting everything he shouted. No, he’s not. Loki may have been worked up- he had seen him go down and then need a minute to get up, after all- but that was still no excuse to come down and lecture him on always getting hurt.

No, Tony’d defended himself, and Loki owes him an apology.

It’s a little past one in the morning on the start of the third day after their fight when Loki joins him in standing at the glass windows overlooking the city. It’s ironically the same spot that Loki had thrown him out of during his invasion of New York.

Tony doesn’t say anything and at first, neither does Loki, until he says quietly, “It was not my intention to insult your strength or capability on our team. I know just how vital you are to the team and our endeavors. But when you went down…” He’s quiet for a moment. “It was the second time in four days that I'd watched you get hurt. The first time, you were barely able to stand; had I not intervened, you likely would have been buried under the rubble of the building. And while logically, I knew that you were in no such danger comparable to that you were in four days prior…”

“It still scared you,” Tony finishes quietly.

He thinks if he were anyone else, that Loki would be tempted to retaliate at his words. And maybe it does actually cross his mind- retaliation to rebuild emotional barriers is a defense mechanism, after all- but all Loki says in response is, “But it still scared me, yes.” He sighs. “I came to check on you in the workshop with that same unrestrained mindset, and I took my concern out on you as misguided anger, when my anger truly lied at the hopelessness I felt and do feel in knowing you’re hurt. It wasn’t aimed at you, and yet I threw it at you anyway, and for that, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” Tony gives a tired, chagrined shrug. “I was sore and in pain and frustrated at the whole situation, so when you came in, instead of giving you a chance to speak, I just jumped to the conclusion that you were thinking the same thing that I was thinking about myself. But I know better than that, so I’m sorry I took everything out on you instead of listening.”

“Apology accepted,” Loki answers, like it is that easy for him to accept his apology.

Maybe it is.

Tony takes advantage of the following silence to step away from the window, taking a seat on the sofa. Loki joins him, sitting down only a few inches away. “How do you fare?” he asks quietly. “I know it has been several days since our last battle, but being injured twice in such a small amount of time…”

Tony shrugs, still a little unsure of what to do when someone expresses actual concern for him. “Could be better, could be worse, I guess, so all in all, I’m fine.”

Loki’s brow furrows at his response. He leans closer a little, hands fluttering between them a little before he lowers them to his lap. “Tell me?” he requests softly.

Their friendship burns as hot as a fire when their tempers are stroked, which, with their personalities and struggles to trust, happens all too easily, but they’re also completely in tune with each other most of the time. And as much as Tony struggles to open up to people who aren’t Rhodey or Pepper, or even Happy, sometimes, he does know, deep down, that it’s safe for him to be honest with Loki.

“It’s hard to get comfortable with broken ribs,” he admits, sighing carefully- because that hurts too. “So, I’ve been mostly tossing and turning these last few nights, and typically I’d be in the workshop when I can’t sleep, but if I work too long then my wrist starts throbbing...so I’m kind of stuck right now.”

He took the cast off his wrist almost as soon as it went on; he refused to go without being able to work. And maybe it would help his wrist heal if he wore it (it definitely would), but if he left it on until his wrist was fully healed, then he’d be left mostly unable to work for at least several weeks. He’d rather deal with the pain than the inability to be useful.

Loki looks to be lost in deep concentration as he stares down at Tony’s wrist. “There is something I could try,” he says after a moment, a touch hesitantly. “Something my mother did to help me when I injured my wrist during an outing with Thor and was consequently unable to fully practice Seiðr in the way that I desired to. I could try it now, if you want?”

Tony raises an eyebrow, already holding out his arm. “If I want- are you kidding? Sweetheart, if you can heal me or help me in any way, consider me yours.”

Loki laughs a little, though Tony notices he’s flushed lightly as he reaches out and takes Tony’s hand in his own. He begins a careful massage first, determination written across his features. His eyes are glowing green slightly as he presses on the spot where the fracture is; Tony hisses and struggles to refrain from pulling his hand away.

Fuck, but it hurts.

“I’ve got you,” Loki murmurs, gentling his touch as he strokes his thumb across the fracture. His touch simultaneously burns and then cools, but left in its wake is a surprising lack of pain.

Tony rotates his hand slowly, flexing his wrist carefully as he stares at Loki in wonder. “Did you just heal me??” he exclaims.

“The process is complex and is not quite exactly healing, but you could call it that, yes.” Loki’s smiling at him, his eyes warm as they make eye contact. “I take it, it helped?”

“Helped? That’s an understatement, I don’t feel any pain anymore!” Tony laughs, throwing his arms around Loki for a quick hug. “This is incredible! I have so many questions about what you just did- I want to know everything.”

“I’d offer to stay and explain it all to you, but I’m afraid that if I did so, you would likely pester me with questions until dawn, and you need your rest.”

Tony pouts at him. “Excuse me, ‘pester?’ I’ve seen how much you smile when you answer my questions; you like answering my questions just as much as I like asking you them.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“It’s an understandable assumption on your part, but if it were true, well, I’d never admit it. I do have a reputation to maintain, after all.”

Tony just laughs. “That’s confirmation, as far as I’m concerned. Now, tell me exactly what you just did and how. Spare me no details.”

(Loki’s right; they do end up talking until dawn breaks.)

(It’s half-past sunrise when Tony finally slumps over, fast asleep with his head on Loki’s shoulder. Loki, for his part, just conjures a blanket and covers them both, finding no need to leave when they’re both already so comfortable where they are.)

*****

After that, it becomes a bit of an unconscious routine that Tony falls into. Whenever they’re in battle and Loki gives him a hand, Tony takes to thanking him by saying, “Thanks, sweetheart, I owe you one!” When he goes down in battle and Loki’s voice shines louder than the others over the comms trying to check on him, Tony let’s him know he’s okay by saying, “I’m fine, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

He says it while they’re working together in the workshop and Loki hands him a piece of equipment he’s reaching for (“thanks, sweetheart”), and he says it when they’re bantering together, and he even says it when they’re bickering too.

It becomes part of his normal vocabulary, becomes so ingrained in his everyday conversation, that most of the time, he doesn’t even realize that he’s calling Loki sweetheart at all.

If Loki notices the frequency to which he’s begun saying it, or if he’s bothered by it at all, he never mentions it. In fact, he never once comments on it or acknowledges that it’s happening.

(As much as Clint teases him for it and also begs for his own special nickname, Tony never stops saying it, nor does he ever give anyone else a ‘special nickname’.)

Tony is elbow-deep in his armor at a little past two in the morning when JARVIS alerts him, “Sir, Mr. Laufeyson is in distress in his quarters and is not responding to me. I believe he needs-”

That’s as far as he gets, nothing further needs to be said as Tony yanks his hands back, nearly knocking over his armor as he reaches for a towel to wipe his hands and makes a dash for the door. He makes it there in what he hopes is record time, and he doesn’t so much as hesitate in the doorway; he just throws the door open and lets it close behind him as he makes a beeline for the bed where Loki is caught in what appears to be a heart-wrenching nightmare.

He knows it’s not a good idea to get too close in case Loki wakes up suddenly and thinks he’s in danger, but he can’t just stand there and do nothing, not while Loki is in pain-

He kneels on the side of the bed near Loki’s hip and calls out his name, adding quietly, “Loki, it’s okay, you’re safe, I promise.”

Loki doesn’t seem to hear him, or, if he does, it’s not enough to break him out of his dream. Tony tries again, calling out gentle reassurances of his safety as he lightly lays his hand on Loki’s shoulder.

And that does it.

Loki jolts upright, a gasp forming but never escaping as he reaches for Tony- not out of conscious or unconscious malicious intent, but out of need. Tony meets him halfway, pulling Loki into his arms. Loki’s trembling, his shoulders shaking with what Tony fears is probably silent sobs.

“I’ve got you,” Tony murmurs, resting his cheek on the top of Loki’s head. “You’re safe, sweetheart, I promise,” he murmurs, running his fingers through Loki’s hair. “I’ve got you.” At his words, a broken sob escapes Loki, and he crumbles. Tony holds him closer and repeats the same promises to Loki over and over again, hoping Loki is finding some safety in his words.

After a while, Loki’s breathing finally starts to slow. He gives a shuddering exhale, his breathing unsteady still. The room falls quiet as he slowly calms further.

Finally, Loki leans back a little, but he takes care to remain close, still held partially in Tony’s arms.

Tony watches him carefully; he’s absolutely sure that his concern is written across his face. But he doesn’t say anything; he knows Loki will tell him if he wants to.

Loki finally looks up to make eye contact with him, and his eyes are swollen and red-rimmed. The shame he feels is easy to read in his expression. But more powerful than the shame, is the deep hurt from whatever image his dream has given him.

Tony’s heart aches.

Loki exhales at the touch of his hand to his arm, his breathing steadier. He moves closer, leaning back into Tony’s side so his head is tucked into Tony’s chest. Tony brings his arms back around him and presses a kiss to the top of his head. He doesn’t say anything; he’s said what he needed to already and he knows that right now, more than anything, all Loki needs is his company.

And almost perfectly on cue, Loki asks softly, “Will you stay?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Tony promises. He eases them down so they’re laying together, Loki sprawled half on top of him. It’s a bit cramped and a little chilly from Loki’s body temperature, and yet, it’s utterly perfect.

Tony closes his eyes, content to remain as they are as slowly, Loki’s breathing begins to slow. Before the clock turns over with a new hour, he’s fast asleep- but unlike before, this time his dreams are peaceful.

*****

The battle that Loki goes down is a battle straight out of Tony’s worst nightmare. It’s messy and chaotic and normally Tony loves chaos- he thrives on it, actually, that’s where his creativity comes from- but he’s never hated it as much as he does during this battle.

It’s chaotic and messy and brutal and they’re being completely overwhelmed—

And then across the comms comes a pained cry, one that neatly and completely sends a dagger through Tony’s heart. He’s across the battlefield long before the cry can stop echoing in his mind, and the end of his life as he once knew it is crossing his mind in a frantic blur as he drops to the ground a few feet away from where Loki is crumpled.

Thor and Steve are bellowing concern down the comms, both of them demanding to know if Loki is okay, and Tony doesn’t even realize he’s quietly chanting the same concern until his breath stalls.

Because when he gently rolls Loki over, it’s to the sight of blood splattered across his chest. His eyes are closed, his face is pale and—

Tony’s hand is shaking as he retracts his armor and presses two fingers to Loki’s throat, as he presses his other hand to the center of the wound in Loki’s chest and tries to apply pressure.

He’s got incoming hostiles from all possible directions, but he doesn’t care because Loki’s bleeding out under his hand.

Tony lifts Loki into his arms as carefully as he can and rushes to get Loki the medical attention he so desperately needs. His comms are oddly silent during the entire flight and yet, somehow, he still hears the same words over and over: “You’re going to be okay, Loki. Just hold on for me, okay, sweetheart? Stay with me, please, don’t-”

Don’t leave me.

Tony knows it’s a fear that may very likely be turned into a reality, but he repeats the mantra anyway, unwilling to accept the anticipated result in front of him.

The hours pass slowly as Loki is in surgery. One by one the other members of the team trickle in from the battlefield to join him in pacing the halls outside of the operating room Loki is in, but much to Tony’s relief, no one tries to offer him any sort of meaningless platitude.

He paces restlessly, unable to stay still in case it means Loki’s demise. It’s irrational, he knows, but it’s the only thing he can think to do. All he can do is stay out in the hall, making sure that he’s there for whatever happens next.

Steve does try to get him to head back and change and to eat, and Tony’s response is- well. It’s not very nice. But he refuses to entertain the idea of leaving, not when Loki is on the other side of the wall dying. No, he’s exactly where he needs to be: at Loki’s side.

Or as close as he can be, at least.

(Nothing else matters to him at that moment except Loki’s safety.)

Hours pass.

Finally, a mixture of doctors and Asgardian healers who were brought down at Thor’s demand come out to give them an update.

Tony halts in place, unable to move closer. He’s not entirely sure he remembers how to breathe.

Their faces are grim.

Tony staggers back, grief striking him so hard that he doesn’t think he’ll be able to contain the wail of pain that’s welling within him.

“He’s got a long road to recovery,” one of the healers says, “but he’ll be okay.”

He’ll be okay.

Loki will be okay. The stated ‘eventually’ in that sentence doesn’t matter to him; Loki’s alive.

That’s all that matters.

He’ll be okay.

They really should have led with that, Tony thinks, right before he stumbles forward and through the doors keeping him and Loki apart.

He’ll be okay.

*****

Tony is curled on his side, tucked away safely in Loki’s arms with his hand on Loki’s chest above his heart when Loki breaks the comfortable silence between them with a quiet murmur of his name.

Admittedly, Tony is sorta half asleep, so it takes him a moment before the call of his name registers, and then he tilts his head back a little, looking up at Loki. “What’s up, Lokes? You need me to move?”

Loki tightens his hold around his waist a little at the question, shakes his head. “You’re more than fine where you are,” he says, relaxing his hold back to what it was as he soothes his other hand down Tony’s arm. “I was just checking if you were awake still, I suppose.”

Tony grins up at him a little. “I was getting there,” he admits. “You make a good pillow, you know.”

“I do know, yes, as you have reliably informed me of such every time we lay like this,” Loki answers with a smile of his own. “And before you ask- no, I am not in any pain; I am nearly fully healed now, as I keep reminding you, so you may stop fretting over me now.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Tony tells him. “But I’d still appreciate it if you did everything in your power to never get hurt again- just for the sake of my sanity, of course.”

It’s a conversation they’ve had many times over the last two months ever since Loki nearly died in Tony’s arms.

“I’ll always do my best to come home to you,” Loki tells him softly; it’s the same promise that he’s made to him ever since he first woke up in the med bay with Tony at his bedside.

And just like every other time, the promise brings a lump to Tony’s throat.

He lays his head back down, his hand restlessly tapping out messages on Loki’s arm. It’s a matter of moments before Loki’s hand slides over his own and holds on tight.

“Tony,” Loki begins again, and his voice has that same note of apprehension in it that it had a few minutes ago when he first started their conversation. “You are aware of how deeply I care about you, yes?”

Tony sits up a little, looking at him. “Yes,” he answers, sure as anything, because he is; because he does know.

What he doesn’t know is why Loki’s bringing it up, and why he seems nervous to do so.

Loki exhales shakily, straightening up himself. He stares at Tony deeply, as if assessing something, and then leans closer. Tony’s eyes flutter closed as Loki gently presses their foreheads together. “Tony,” Loki breathes softly, “Sweetheart, do you have any idea how deeply I have fallen in love with you?”

“I’d imagine just as much as I’ve fallen for you,” Tony responds as easily as he breathes. He’s not surprised; if he’s honest with himself, he’s known for months where they stand with each other. And then Loki’s word choice dawns on him, and because this is just how their relationship is: “‘Sweetheart?’”

“I figured it was my turn to use it, for once.”

Tony grins. They’re moments from kissing for the first time but they’ve waited this long—

“So, you decided to use it for the first time in the middle of your decoration of love for me?” Tony can’t stop grinning. “So you were paying attention every time I called you sweetheart! You had me guessing for a while there, you know.”

Loki’s eyes are twinkling, his expression ridiculously fond. “Did I? I noticed every time you used it; it was hard not to, especially the first time.”

“You never said anything,” Tony points out.

“Why would I? I liked it, I refused to risk that you’d stop.” Loki’s smiling as he closes the distance between them.

Tony smiles into the kiss and presses closer, kissing Loki a second time and then a third time before he reluctantly pulls back so he can breathe. He stays close, pressing his forehead to Loki’s again. “I love you,” he whispers. “And just so you know, I’m not ever going to stop calling you ‘sweetheart.’”

He was not one to back down or go quietly without saying his piece, but he found himself standing still when he found the workshop on lockdown. It would be all too easy to enter, a simple wave of his hand and he’d been in…

But the workshop was on lockdown; he had been silently requested to remain out.

“FRIDAY?” he asked cautiously.

“Boss is currently out,” she answered.

“And he has had you place the workshop on lockdown?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“May I know the matter that he is preoccupied with? He has not answered my messages all day.”

A short pause. “He didn’t say.”

Loki took this graciously with no more than a waiver of concern as he murmured his understanding. “When he returns, could you tell him that I wish for his company?”

Another hesitation. “Boss did not appear in a mood for company this morning, but I will alert him of your interest whenever he establishes contact with me.”

Loki absorbed this and then nodded, his heart heavy for a reason he refused to think on. “Very well. I’ll be in my quarters.”

The afternoon turned to evening, which turned to night, and admittedly, he did not sleep well. Concerns for Tony kept him awake; anxiety played cruel tricks on him for why Tony was so securely out of contact.

He thought perhaps something had happened, but there was a part of him that feared perhaps he’d done something to scare away the man he-

At half past five, Loki began pacing.

In their months of friendship, they had been in contact every day: almost entirely in person, either in the workshop or each other’s floor or even dragging each other out to various parts of Midgard; when they were forced apart, they texted, sent audio messages, even the occasional photo if there was potential to gain a reaction from the other.

It had been almost twenty-four hours since Loki had heard from Tony; even longer, since he’d seen him.

Loki glanced down at his phone- several of his own delivered-but-unanswered messages stared back at him.

When he finally brought himself to ask, FRIDAY informed him tensely: “Boss has not been in contact with me since he left yesterday morning.”

Loki froze. “Do you know where he went?”

“I do not,” she said with deep regret. “Boss had a restless night and worked well into the early morning hours before he fell asleep on the sofa. At 03:41 he roused, ordered the workshop on lockdown, and proceeded to leave without further comment to me.”

“He had a nightmare,” Loki murmured, thinking.

FRIDAY’s silence was confirmation enough.

He didn’t come to me?

It was a selfish thought, especially considering Tony had clearly been distressed to the point of needed to get away- and they still could not reach him— but Loki still found the unreasonable thought lingering in his mind. Granted it had only happened a few times, but all of which had occurred in the past three months where, after suffering a nightmare, Tony had come to him for companionship.

Three of the four times it had happened, Tony had even been able to fall back asleep and, even better, sleep through the rest of the night undisturbed.

It bothered Loki that Tony had for some reason dismissed the idea of turning to him for comfort this time around, instead choosing to-

“There is something else, Loki,” FRIDAY said quietly. “I reminded Boss after he woke of your ongoing offer to wake him should he be in distress or desire companionship, but Boss dismissed me. This was right before he ordered the shop on lockdown.”

Loki took in this dismissal silently, a bit pained. “Thank you for telling me,” he finally responded. He had nothing else to say.

Glancing back down at his phone, Loki unlocked it and stared at the lack of responses in their chat.

Please let me know you’re safe, I’m worried, he texted.

He hesitated, his anxiety elevated from FRIDAY’s final words, and then sent another text: if there’s something I did to make you need space from me, please tell me. Hurting you or making you uncomfortable is the last thing I ever want to do

Setting his phone aside, Loki settled in for the rest of the night.

FRIDAY alerted him to Tony’s presence just as a timid knock came at his door. Loki was across the room in a single stride; the door open with a simple thought.

They stared at each other.

Loki swallowed and stepped back, gesturing that Tony enter.

Tony entered silently, apparently at a loss for words as he sat down on the sofa. He’d made the effort of coming, but he seemed not to know what to say.

Loki remained standing at the foot of the sofa, waiting, and finally could stand the silence no longer. “Why didn’t you answer me? I told you many times that I was worried, and yet you said nothing, letting FRIDAY and I fret over your well-being.”

“I wasn’t-” Tony hesitated. “It wasn’t intentional.”

“It wasn’t,” Loki said flatly. “Yet you still couldn’t send me a simple text with proof of life? Eight months we have been friends, never once in that time have you ignored me as thoroughly as you have been. You can’t just- I need something, some explanation for what happened or what I did to make you leave!”

“You didn’t do anything,” Tony answered instantly, no hint of a lie in his voice. “It wasn’t anything you did. This was a me problem.”

Loki waited. Finally, he collapsed onto the far side of the sofa with a frustrated groan. “That’s all you have to say?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!” Tony said sharply, his expression shuttering. “I was overwhelmed, I left. I’m back now, I’m here trying to explain it, but I don’t know how to explain it when I’m scared that-”

And he stopped, offering nothing further.

Loki watched him closely, frustration wrestling with concern as Tony looked away and fidgeted in front of him. He looked tense and unsure of himself, but worse, was the look of resignation on his face.

“Tony,” Loki said quietly, leaning forward a little, “Why are you hiding from me? Surely you know by now, there is nothing you could say or do that would drive me away from your side.”

Tony stared at him for a moment, eyes wide before he shakily exhaled. “Usually, if I have a nightmare about you, it’s where you die as a result of something I didn’t do to protect you. And until Thursday, I thought that was the worst dream I could have. But then you left because of me, because I-” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “It was stupid,” he mumbled. “But it got to me, so I left to sort myself out. I’m sorry I-”

He stopped at the hand Loki held up to catch his attention. “It’s not stupid for the simple fact it upset you,” he said quietly. “If you are comfortable with sharing the details with me, I can help reassure you that such a thing will never occur. But even without the details, I can assure you again, just as I already said, that there is nothing you can say or do that will cause me to leave you.”

“I know that.” Tony looked away again, staring back down at his hands. He seemed on the verge of saying something else, but he didn’t.

Loki took the opportunity to move closer, so that he was sat next to Tony, just close enough that their arms were touching. “You’re aware of how much I treasure our friendship, are you not?”

Tony nodded, giving him a small smile. He almost looked sad, which made sense for his overall mood, but not as a reaction to Loki’s declaration about their friendship—

Loki froze.

“In your dream, you told me that you’re in love with me, didn’t you?” he guessed softly. “But I rejected you, I’m guessing in a cruel manner, and then I left.”

Tony was pale, his eyes wide.

And that was confirmation enough.

He found him on the roof. It was an odd place to be, especially when Loki had expected to find him in the workshop, if not there, then in the penthouse.

He was sat on the ledge, his legs dangling over the side of the building as he looked out at the city below. From behind, his posture was a mixture of both slumped in defeat and stiff.

“Stark?” Loki asked carefully, taking care to approach slowly.

“I’m not really in the mood, Loki.” Stark’s voice was plain, but under it, there was a current of exhaustion.

“For company? I am yet to state my reasoning for visiting.”

“I’m guessing it’s the same reason you always come and like I said, I’m not in the mood for it.”

Something in his tone didn’t sit right with Loki. He took the final few steps between them slowly, carefully taking a seat to Stark’s left. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Yeah, right,” Stark snorted. “Look, I’m really not in the-”

“Mood, yes, so you’ve said. And I say again: that’s not why I am here. May I ask why you are sitting here overlooking the city- on a chilly night I might add- in the middle of the evening? There are warmer spaces to let your mind wander.”

“Me being here is none of your business.”

“Must you be so short with me?” Loki sighed. “I told you-”

“Look, I told you I don’t want to have sex tonight, so will you just go already? Leave me alone.”

“And I told you that is not why I am here; if you’d stop rebuking me for just a moment, you’d know that I am actually here to try to check on you.”

Stark scowled, looking greatly frustrated, but underneath that, there was something else to his expression that Loki couldn’t quite name. “Look, I told you that I— you what?”

Grief. That was the expression on his face that Loki’d been unable to identify. “I saw the final moments of your battle today; it did not appear an easy battle for you,” he said quietly. “So I came here to check on you, and to offer support, if I can.”

Stark went through a range of emotions that Loki couldn’t quite name before he seemed to settle on surprise. Judging by that, he seemed unsure of what to say, so Loki offered carefully: “Do you wish to talk about it?”

A full minute passed in response to his query; most of it was spent with Stark studying him carefully before he finally turned his gaze away. “Not really,” he muttered.

A strong breeze pushed between them and in its aftermath, Stark shuddered forcefully. His expression was miserable; a collection of pain that Loki had never seen from him before.

“Were you significantly injured?” Loki asked, frowning. “I can offer aid, if you need.”

“No, I’m fine.”

Loki watched him carefully, trying to decide his next course of action. “Would you rather I left?” he asked, a touch hesitantly.

Their relationship- if it could be called such- mostly involved banter, a fair amount of bickering, and some of the best sex he’d ever had. Sharing emotions wasn’t his strong suit; he’d long ago learned that when he spoke, very few listened. From that, it was only a natural conclusion that there wasn’t much point in him opening up to someone. He suspected Stark had been taught the same lesson- but that was not something they had ever attempted to speak on before.

Nor was it customary for him to come after a difficult battle to check on Stark’s well-being, which was likely the reason for Stark’s confusion to his presence.

They were both out of their element, it seemed.

Nearly a minute passed.

Stark sighed. “No,” he admitted wearily. “You can stay.”

Loki found himself surprised by the answer; he’d been expecting a demand to leave. And yet, he found himself grateful- but just a touch more concerned than when he’d shown up.

He also found himself unsure of what to say next.

“Fourteen people died today.” Stark’s voice was heavy with a weight that words didn’t seem able to describe. “One of them…she was four.”

A child.

Loki closed his eyes briefly; no child should ever be caught up in battle. In the aftermath of his destruction in New York, once he’d been free from The Other, he’d resolved to himself to keep his “battles” (his mischief, really) far away from children. He’d provide annoyances for the New Yorkers and he’d prove a fun and challenging (and always, superior) foe for the Avengers but never- he’d promised himself- never would a child be caught in the middle of his games.

“She was four, she was just a fucking kid, she shouldn’t have-” Stark cut off, shivering. Loki thought it was just as much a result from grief as it was from the cold. “She was just a kid.”

With no words of comfort to offer, Loki procured his cloak with a wave of his hand and carefully laid it over Stark’s shoulders.

Stark turned to look at him, his eyes red-rimmed and surprised. Loki offered no explanation, and he didn’t ask for one. After a moment, Stark nodded his gratitude silently and adjusted the cloak, so it was more securely wrapped around him.

Loki hid a small, pleased smile; admittedly warmed by Stark’s acceptance of his cloak and all the offer represented.

They sat there in silence for some time before finally, Stark said softly, “Thanks.”

Loki turned to look at him, a touch surprised. “What for?”

“Checking on me. Sitting here with me.” Stark fingered the edges of his cloak with a small, melancholy smile. “For this. You didn’t have to, you know.”

“Of course, I know,” Loki huffed. “I’d hardly spend my time doing something I didn’t want to, now would I?”

Stark’s smile became just a little more genuine at the snarky response.

“I thought,” Loki began after a moment, “that you could use some company. I wasn’t sure I would be welcome, given that the nature of our relationship doesn’t offer extend to...this, but I am glad I could offer some companionship.”

“Our relationship…it doesn’t just have to be sex.” Stark looked hesitant, but still he continued, “This, I don’t know…spending time together, talking…it could become part of our relationship too, if you want?”

“I’d like that,” Loki answered softly, “Tony.”

Tony offered him a tired but pleased smile. “Not ‘Anthony?’” he teased, with a semblance of the energy he usually had.

“You prefer Tony,” Loki said simply.

Tony looked warmed by the consideration. “You want to go in?” he asked, flushing a little. “Not to-”

“I know,” Loki interrupted quickly. “And that’s fine; I would still like to come in anyway.”

Tony grinned, took his hand, and led the way.

End.