Story: Tony Stark ponders his relationship with the God/Godess of Mischief. They tend to behave differently, depending on the body his God is wearing.
Author's note: I needed fluff, and baby kittens (cat person, shrug), and unicorns, and sugar muffins. That's my reason for this work. I needed something cuddly. Everything past Iron Man 3 never happened. Oh, and: SCREW YOU, CPT. AMERICA.
Disclaimer: The Avengers are not mine, nothing Mavel does belongs to me. But they do allow me to dream.
Pliant
Subconsciously, he drops a kiss on her hair line, the black mane of hardly tamed curls framing her alabaster face, and somehow it makes him think of Snow White, inspecting the pale shoulder, the pale arm that crosses his waist, the dip of her waist that raises to that delicate curve of her hip under the sheets, and he calls himself a freak for watching her like this for so long now, so many nights, and still it is always the comparison to Snow White that comes to his mind.
Well, okay, he supposes that Snow White would not drool on you when she is using your chest as a pillow, but, somehow, he finds it cute and… domestic enough to not tease her about it.
The arm on the side she is sleeping on wraps around her shoulder, his hand drawing tiny, elaborate patterns on the soft, velvety texture of her skin, and he will forever deny the fact that every now and then something heart-shaped ends up there. But then, he found that he is always more pliant with her than he has been with any other relationship before.
Maybe it was still easier with a woman, to show your softer side. He has been out of the proverbial closet for so long now, taking to bed what appeals to his tastes, and still, he finds it easier to steal kisses, let his fingertips caress over a smooth cheek, catch a stray eyelash and not feel like a complete idiot with her rather than with him.
Tony slightly shifts in bed, tugging the arm Loki is not sleeping on under his head, his eyes now unfocused in the darkness of their bedroom, the light of his reactor shielded enough by the Egyptian cotton of his bedsheets that he could make out his furniture, if he wanted to, but not bright enough to impede sleep.
They have tried. Both of them have, with this sort of affection, but even when they are alone, it never reaches the level of emotions they have both found for each other when the God of Mischief had introduced his female counterpart to the engineer.
And actually, it still gives him quite some troubles to sort this out. He has fallen in love with Loki, the guy, the God who has been forced upon the Avengers by his NOT- brother as a means to redeem himself. And it has taken him some time to figure out that indeed, he, Tony Stark of all people, who did sleep with anything that appealed to his tastes, at least pre-Afghanistan, can fall for someone, and could identify it as love.
At some point he has been convinced that he of all people is just too shallow for this kind of feelings.
Loki, at some point, admitted that he has had equal troubles to accept their mutual attraction and the feelings that come along with it.
In the beginning, they had this bro-mance going on, even more than Bruce and Tony, once he had found out just how smart the God of Mischief was. Ok, so Loki might have had a hard time believing that somebody liked him in general, and even more for his brains, but, meh, if Tony Stark is something, then it is persistent in showing his affections. Bruce can sing a song or two about it. Maybe also an opera.
He has become stubborn about spending his time with the Demigod when Captain America started wondering about it. After all, Loki was still a super-villain and only worked with them because he had no other choice.
Tony chose to believe that Loki wants to be here, wants to help, wants to be good, somehow, and just always ended up as the bad guy because other people chose to see him this way, and man, why could this single-minded fool forgive his brain-washed army-buddy but not a tortured and mind-raped God? The shouting match had been heard over three stories of the building, and he was so close to kicking the star spangled man and his deadlocked views of the world out of his tower that he had actually thrown his best bottle of scotch after the imbecile.
The "My, my, Man of Iron, one would think that you like me", that was purred only seconds after Steve Rogers may have wished that elevator doors were made to be smashed shut, would have made its way straight to his groin had he not been that angry, and for some reason Loki had been grateful for the lack of reaction, for Tony just locking his eyes with the Demigod and saying: "Well, I guess I do."
It took them months of deliberately invading each other's personal space, hands (occasionally, also chins) resting on shoulders, manly shoves and even more manly slaps to culminate in a kiss. And that was so in the heat of the moment, Tony grabbing his face and planting his lips on the God's surprised mouth after one of his doohickeys finally was working that Loki was so willing to dismiss it as just that, a kiss in the heat of the moment.
He was even more surprised by the second one that followed mere seconds after.
What came then needed a lot of talking antediluvian stupid Asgardian homophobia out of his God of Mischief, and maybe even Thor learned a thing or two about the fact that doing the deed with another guy was not any less gay just because you were the one on top.
And boy, does he like Loki topping – and bragging about it. Thor stays a lot of time at Jane's place after Tony more or less tortures him every time he visited, recapitulating their previous night, his eyes never leaving the Demigod's, calloused fingers itching to caress that alabaster skin, but never reaching out, both of them getting worked up enough to take a detour to the engineer's bedroom.
Loki never stays the night, though. He is cuddling, but at some point, most of the time when Tony is drifting off, he untangles himself from his mortal and, depending on how exhausted he was from their previous actions either teleports, or shuffles to his room.
"You know, you just could stay and sleep here", Tony has mumbled at one point, sick of always losing his post-coital bliss cuddle buddy.
That had been a bad idea when after a nightmare his still messed up brain associated the face of the guy in his bed with the person who had made his doomed flight into the Void necessary, and both of them would never admit it, but there had been tears involved and heart-felt I-love-yous from both sides to at least settle this tiny clash. And yes, he had said those three words to the guy Loki first, months before Lady Loki made her appearance.
Bless Pepper and her need to make her boss go to these charity whatevers, he definitely does not remember consenting to be auctioned off for some goodwill project they were supporting.
He had instantly known that the woman who outbid whoever was trying to buy a Dinner with Tony Stark by calmly offering one million dollars (of course from Stark Industries funds, but he'd planned on donating something big anyway) was Loki.
And he may have yelled "Sold!" before the auctioneer can bring down his little hammer on the lectern in front of him.
The night that followed left both of them confused. Loki had reacted on a whim, jealousy rearing its head when he had learned what exactly was going on at the charity event. He had also known that Tony would not care in the least if a man would purchase him. But seeing all these women, drooling over his mortal, it made him want to pull one over them, and it did feel marvelous to have his Anthony's eyes directed at him like he was the most gorgeous being on the entire planet.
Not that he does not also do that when Loki is in his male form. Even the God has struggled with his words, his eloquence failing him for once when he tries to explain how it is different to be relished, worshipped in this form.
The tabloids all got starry eyed the next day, posting pictures of Tony Stark dining with an unknown woman, there were literal picture series of the affectionate gestures both shared, and there were journalists wondering how they had spent three hours in that restaurant just talking!, for heaven's sake.
Tony does not care in the least that his playboy image more or less has been destroyed that night.
The Goddess became a regular appearance in their life. It didn't mean that when the God was involved they were only ploughing each other into the mattress, while Lady Loki and Tony were making love in the rainbowiest sense of the word. There was lots of ploughing and making love involved no matter the gender Loki chose.
But the God was integrated in all the science binges and fighting for our planet and we'll do what we want, while the Goddess liked hacking S.H.I.E.L.D./H.Y.D.R.A. whatever, fooling around with J.A.R.V.I.S., shopping, being worshipped, and getting gifts and staying the night.
Interestingly enough, in the past couple of weeks she has become a constant appearance, as have lazy mornings where he is observing his tanned arm over her milky skin as he draws her closer, a soft sigh escaping her lips when he pulls her flush against his body, and while spooning with his God is great, spooning his Goddess is a tiny bit greater. He remorsefully tries to push that thought aside, because after all, all of this is Loki, and he does not want to prefer one appearance over the other.
The person ins his arms starts to shift when a sigh escapes his lips, his mind once more trying to figure out how he ended up in a polyamorous relationship that includes only two people.
"You are thinking too loud", Loki whispers against his chest, lips grazing the skin in a way that makes goosebumps rise on his arms. He thought he would prefer the male voice over the female one, but while it is a different frequency, it is still… Loki's voice. He once more kisses her hairline, the arm under his head never leaving its place, while his other hand continues the circles on her shoulder.
"When are you planning to tell me that you simply cannot change back to your male version for the time being?" he then askes into the darkness, and her head lifts from his shoulder, green eyes trying to drill holes into his skull as he simply continues to stare at the ceiling.
"When..?" she echoes, her hand that has been on his pectoral muscle now used to push herself up to a half-sitting position, before asking J.A.R.V.I.S. to turn on the lights. "How…?"
"J.A.R.V.I.S. has ratted you out what concerns being sick. And you know as well as I that we've gone with prayer enough times to tempt fate. So?"
He eyes narrow at him, that calculating, withdrawn look appearing on her face and she tries to move out of his embrace as she stubbornly continues to glare at him, trying to find the right words.
"Are you…?" He can see it in her face, that she is trying to select between… well, mad, disappointed, going to send me away? He interrupts her before she can finish her sentence with any of these options, because he has one that fits better.
"Happy? Hell, yeah!"
Obviously, this is the right thing to say, because Loki stares at him for another moment, and then all the tension that has built up in mere seconds seems to leave her body, and she is melting against him again, head buried in the crook of his neck. This time, Tony turns to his side to wrap both arms around her.
"I feel so… stupid. I've never been one to be pliant, yet in this form I want you to take care of me and protect me and feel save, and…" Her head buries deeper against his shoulder as she hears what she just said, and Tony cannot help a tiny laughter when his finger find her chin, bringing her head up so he can look at her.
"I like pliant Loki, because I can be the caveman, providing for you and protecting you. However, when you popped out our little blueberry, I hope my boyfriend can come by for a visit every now and then?"
"So I can be the caveman and protect you?" she asks with this mischievous glint in her eye, and Tony does all he can to not hit her shoulder while he grunts: "You being a guy does not automatically make me the woman in our relationship, Lokes!"
She just smiles at him, soft lips finding his mouth.