Chapter One:
Loki strode in like the god he was, er formerly was. The temporarily mortal Norse god looked through the penthouse curiously, although not entirely certain why he was so intrigued by the inventor turned Avenger.
"You can stay in that room. Go get changed, you smell like gasoline, and I'd rather you don't accidentally catch on fire while you're in my care." Stark purred tauntingly, eyeing the bloodied god warily.
"Gasoline?" The Norse god still wasn't sure of Midgardian terms. They tasted foul rolling off his lips.
"Uh, it's a MIDGARDIAN form of energy." He rolled his eyes.
A few choice words rolled off his lips in his native tongue, as Loki turned to look through the room. He didn't mind the smell fuming off his clothes that much, and was considering not changing just to irritate Stark. A little smile played with his lips. Toying with the genius inventor could be enjoyable. The God of Mischief was always looking for a challenge, and Stark might just fit into that category.
He prowled into the room, still holding himself like the royalty he had once been. Most of the things in the room bore semblance to objects he'd been accustomed to in Asgard. The bathroom he had been minutely introduced to by Thor. But upon glancing into the room, he realized a little glasses in room at the end if the bathroom. A frown burrowed into his forehead.
-what is that?- the question made him curious enough to creep closer. His footsteps made no sound, mortality not having taken away his feline stealth. Thin fingers touched the door of the speckled glass, and he opened it. He stood stock still, waiting for a trap, but there was none.
He walked inside, emboldened. There wasn't much to the little room, making him wonder as to its necessity. There was a knob at knee height. Out of pure intrigue, he slid it over to one side. Water splashed over him, making him start in shock.
But the warmth seeped through his clothes and into his wintry skin. A little moan escaped his mouth. Warmth. He held his hands out, watching the little drops play over his skin. Then, he pushed his face under the heated spray and sighed happily. He had never felt this way before. So warm, so comfortable with his skin.
Loki had never entirely warmed to the Jotunn nature of his temperature. He was the God of Fire, but a Frost Giant, making his desires far straying from reality.