It was three in the morning on a Friday night, and Tony was glued to his workbench, as usual. He shook his head to himself in disbelief every hour or so that passed, thoroughly feeling like a complete idiot for spending his time working when he could be playing. A sigh escaped his lips as he stood, ready for another cup of coffee to help keep him conscious. He turned on his heel as he yawned.
"Something wrong?"
The sound nearly sent him flying him through the roof. He put one hand to his chest and the other in the air, fist clenched tightly around his empty coffee mug.
"Seriously, you need to knock this shit off," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He shut his eyes tightly as his fear was outweighed by annoyance.
"Terribly sorry for startling you. I was simply checking in. Quite late, you know?"
Tony nodded and pushed past the tall figure, pretending it was not there at all. He hastily made his way down the hall into the kitchen and poured himself another cup of coffee. The scent filled his nostrils and he immediately felt more alert. He poured a generous amount of creamer into the mug and stirred it around with his finger briefly. He sat down on a barstool and placed his mug on the cold marble countertop. He rested his elbows on its surface and rubbed his eyes.
He peeked through his fingers to see the dark figure standing before him, apparently having followed him soundlessly through the hallway.
"What could you be poring over at this hour?" said the soft, eloquent voice. Tony shook his head and looked up, noisily slurping his drink.
"New suit modifications. Some real fancy shit," he said with a wink as he continued to suck down the piping hot beverage. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the mass of leather and metal before him. Golden accents gleamed under the modest lighting, and his gaze met those two radiant emerald eyes. The God of Mischief stood before him, smirking.
"Ah yes, of course," Loki replied, placing his hands against the marble. "How very interesting," he added with an indifferent nod. Tony sighed, annoyed by the god's arrogance. He tapped his fingers against the chilly surface impatiently. It seemed to grow colder in Loki's presence.
The perpetual drumming steadily began to slow as Tony sipped from his cup silently. He almost didn't realize it himself until the sound reduced to a complete stop. He cleared his throat and lowered the mug to the countertop. It felt heavy in his hands. Something was wrong.
Tony furrowed his eyebrows and stared at his fingers. They felt numb. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He was furious, suddenly, but could not express himself. He shot Loki the most enraged glare he could muster before his vision began to blur. He felt himself falling, and was enveloped in darkness.
"Feeling alright, sir?"
Tony awoke with a start, immediately shielding his eyes from the light. He was lying on the couch, still dressed in his jeans and t-shirt. A blanket, or "decorativethrow" as Pepper liked to call it, was draped over him.
"I think so… thanks, Jarvis," he replied hoarsely.
He blinked and scanned the room, seeing no sign of the armor-clad god. He did, however, stumble upon a folded slip of paper perched atop the glass coffee table. He leaned over with a groan and snatched it up, squinting in the light to read it.
Stark,
Thought you could use some rest. No hard feelings, right?
- L.
P.S. I've eaten all of your potato chips.
Tony sighed, generally perturbed, though he could not deny that he felt better after such a deep sleep. He stretched his arms above his head and cracked his neck before getting to his feet. Better was an understatement.