Summary: It was never supposed to be easy. There had been no doubt it would be difficult, but he had thought it possible. After all, how could he have known that his greatest challenge would be to wrest the one thing he loved…from himself?

A/N: Read on at your peril. This is pure, unabashed, angst and I cannot promise a happy ending. Of course there will be romance and humour and slash along the way, but the main category is angst. You have been warned.

…

Prologue

Tony Stark was dying. He knew it with a morbid certainty that pulsed through his veins in time with the frantic beating of his struggling heart. The world was slowing down around him, colours blurring into a spinning pallet as his universe grew ever dimmer and darker. It was strangely peaceful, dying. People said you could see your life flash before your eyes. He thought it a nice sentiment, comforting. Others said it was a cold, hellish, moment when you realised you were truly alone and that death was the inescapable end – the gateway to nothingness. As a scientist Tony could appreciate that the current theories heavily suggested that God could not have existed before the Big Bang, and therefore could not have created the universe thereby disproving the most basic tenet of religion and extinguishing the idea of a higher power altogether. As an Avenger, he knew there were far greater forces at work than humanity in the Universe. Yet none of this told him, definitively, what to expect beyond death.

Strangely, the thought didn't bother him.

He kind of thought it should have; particularly since he was trapped in a metal suit – part of which was lodged firmly in his left lung - and slowly drowning in his own blood. It seemed the kind of thing that ought to have bothered people.

Death was a funny thing.

He coughed harshly as blood bubbled between his lips in a deep red froth that tasted faintly metallic. Was it ironic that the suit that had once given him freedom was the very thing killing him? He wasn't sure…maybe it was just tragic.

He couldn't' see much beyond the sheen of red that covered the inside of the mask. It was a pity that the last thing he would see in the world would be the sight of his own blood oozing back at him and the last sound his dying breath. He could think of something – or rather, someone – he would much rather see and hear.

His breathing was coming in sharp gasps and he could feel the cold fingers of death hovering around him, just watching. Watching, and waiting, for him to breathe his last.

This time there was no way to disappoint.

The air caught in his throat and, as he struggled to drag it down, he knew the end had come. Black fog was sinking into his brain and his thoughts were vanishing into the darkness like wraiths. Resistance was futile, and he didn't have the strength to fight, so he calmed and let the inky blackness wash him away.

…

Chapter 1

He wasn't sure how it had started…no scratch that, he knew exactly how it had started. What he didn't know was how it had escalated so damn quickly…and for that matter, how he'd let it. His personal theory was masochism. He had it in spades, or so people kept telling him. It would certainly explain his current predicament. Pretty well, actually. To a tee.

Masochism.

With a healthy side of stupidity.

…and maybe a smidgeon of animalistic lust.

Make that a vat.

It was a dangerous combination, and a heady one. It was the laundry list that comprised his impending doom. If they ever found out, if they even so much as suspected, he was as good as a sack of ground meat.

Barbequed ground meat.

Probably imprisoned for life, barbequed, ground meat if he was lucky.

'Stark, I tire of your pointless fretting.' A silky smooth voice sent heat rushing to his toes. Well, it would have reached his toes if it hadn't stopped someplace a little higher. Tony frowned minutely and twisted around in his chair to level an accusing gaze at the perpetrator of his impending doom.

'You,' he pointed for effect, 'are a problem.'

'A fact upon which I pride myself,' Loki raised an elegant eyebrow as his lips curved ever so slightly.

'This is serious.' Tony pouted and swung back around to brace his arms on the desk.

Somehow, unfathomably, frequent and generally passionate battles (as in both sides legitimately wanted to kill, or otherwise maim, each other) had devolved into less frequent and equally passionate, ridiculously amicable, actually downright friendly meetings in which mere words had been exchanged. Of course said meetings had been secret, brief, and usually with some ulterior purpose but Tony had enjoyed them, had planned them even. In true fashion he hadn't realised what he was walking into until he was right, dead centre, in the middle of it.

He tensed as he registered a presence behind him and then relaxed incrementally as familiar fingers caressed his muscles with easy skill. The hands were cool – like marble – as they slid along his skin and he leant back into the touch gratefully.

They had been civil, maybe even friends. Or as close as a genius, billionaire, philanthropist, playboy and an arguably psychotic chaos God could ever get.

Hot breath ghosted along the nape of his neck followed by lips that trailed from the hollow of his shoulder to the shell of his sensitive ear.

And then that had happened. Loki had changed the rules, and damn it if Tony hadn't let him.

'You worry too much.' The words were whispered into his ear so softly he could only just make them out through the vibrations rippling along his skin.

The hands stilled and then the pressure vanished as the warmth disappeared, leaving him strangely bereft. He turned his head slightly in question only to see nothing but empty space. Spice lingered in the air and sent a pang of loss ricocheting through his system.

He hated it when Loki did that; it simply wasn't fair.

Usually there was a reason and, soon enough, it came to him in the form of a rather raucous sounding knock.

'Tony?'

Of course it was Steve and his ridiculously bad timing. He couldn't begin to count the number of times the star-spangled soldier had interrupted him in the midst of several less than savoury activities – lately most of them involving a certain notorious criminal with a bad habit of vanishing without proper notice.

'What?' He grouched, not bothering to turn back around or get up to open the door. He had his super awesome AI for that. Oh wait, he'd temporarily disabled him - couldn't have any witnesses to his monumental lapse of judgement after all.

'Open the door please.' Steve punctuated his sentence by rapping his knuckles once again on the door. There was a mild undertone of annoyance in his voice, but he was as polite as ever.

Tony grumbled to himself as he reinstated Jarvis with a few petulant keystrokes.

'Jarvis, open the door for our illustrious captain would you?'

'Of course, sir.' The disembodied AI's voice reverberated through the room. The door slid open with a swoosh to reveal Steve clad in unusually time-appropriate clothing. He actually looked somewhat normal for a change.

'We have a situation,' were the first words out of his mouth.

Tony flinched and almost dropped the glass of water he'd just picked up. He couldn't know…could he?

'…er, we do?' He coughed to clear his throat and return his voice to normal. Gulping the water he put the glass down on the table and turned around, his typical innocent don't know what you're talking about face in place.

'Yeah, we do.' Steve said somewhat suspiciously. He narrowed his eyes, tone carefully measured. 'We found the missing socks.'

'Oh?' Tony raised a brow, somewhat curious as to what the point was.

'…they were in your lab.' Steve finished suspiciously.

'Oh.' Tony blinked and then scowled. 'Tell me, Captain…what exactly were you doing in my lab?'

'Searching.' Steve didn't even have the decency to look contrite.

'Uh huh,' Tony raised an eyebrow, 'maybe the better question is why? Or even how?'

At that Steve's expression shifted into something vaguely resembling guilt, or perhaps even sheepishness – assuming the word could even be applied to the man.

'It was open,' he defended.

'Uh no it wasn't,' Tony rebutted. 'Because I distinctly remember closing the door after I left and telling Jarvis to lock it. Back me up here, Jarv?'

'Of course, sir. The laboratory was in fact locked when you left.'

'There,' Tony said triumphantly, 'you see – locked. Ergo you must have-'

'It wasn't locked,' Steve interrupted. 'The door was wide open.'

'Jarvis?' Tony queried, waving his hand in indulgent exasperation.

'The Captain is correct, sir.' Jarvis confirmed.

'You're telling me my door just magically –'Tony paused as the word left his lips and the parameters of the situation sunk in. Son of a bitch, he thought fondly. 'Well okay then.' He finished, 'stranger things have happened.'

And they had.

Now that Tony was more or less dating the God of mischief he had, after all, had to put his foot down on the general villanry and plans of world domination. Predictably, they hadn't gelled with his superhero self-concept. Less predictably, Loki had actually agreed with minor fuss (Tony was half convinced that the guy was tired of failing to take over the world and just wasn't man enough to admit it) and had promptly turned to much sneaker, and fairly passive-aggressive, methods of mischief.

In short, he was making things hard for the other Avengers and they had no idea he was doing it. Things kept going missing – most recently Clint had complained about losing every single left shoe in his possession. Socks never made it to the laundry (because clearly, as he now realised, they were making their jolly old way into his laboratory). Toothbrushes vanished and reappeared in the most unlikely places (most notably, and randomly, in a bag of frozen peas Bruce had attempted to cook) while doors slammed without provocation. Generally, the place seemed like it was haunted. For Tony, it was mostly amusing watching the others walk around like there was a particularly recalcitrant ghost watching their every movement. It was even better when they tried to watch the security footage and all they could see was things vanishing abruptly and moving without physical stimuli.

For his part Loki seemed to be having the time of his life, and Tony was of the opinion that he was much more suited to covert warfare.

He supposed this was what the God had been like before whatever psychotic break had caused him to turn to wanton destruction and world domination.

'Sure,' Steve pursed his lips. 'Since you brought it up – enough is enough Tony. For God's sake stop stealing Clint's left shoes.'

'You can't prove it was me.' Tony pointed out, 'as I recall there's a distinct lack of evidence on that front.'

'Who else would it be?' Steve asked, exasperated. 'I only know one guy around here with the emotional maturity of a monkey.'

'Maybe it's Loki.' Tony suggested, choosing to ignore the quip about his maturity. He was plenty mature.

'Of course, how stupid of me.' Steve said with an impressive amount of sarcasm. 'Thor's murderously insane younger brother is taking time off of his busy schedule to play pranks on people he usually tries to kill.'

'Have you seen him lately?' Tony asked, bristling at the comment even though he knew the others had no reason to see Loki in the same light he did.

'Whatever he's doing,' Steve sighed, 'I'm positive it's not stealing shoes and toothbrushes.' He shook his head as he turned to leave, 'just stop, okay?'

The door slid closed behind him.

'Well that was hurtful,' Loki materialised by the door, leaning casually against it. 'I do believe I have not tried to kill anyone in months.' He smiled wickedly, 'something I should rectify, perhaps?'

'Hmph,' Tony said eloquently. 'Stop framing me for your petty crimes.'

'Shall I perhaps blame the good Captain?' Loki suggested, examining his nails absent-mindedly.

'That would be funny.' Tony agreed, 'Do that.'

'As you wish.' Loki peeled gracefully away from the wall and stalked towards him, green eyes glinting with mischief. About half-way across the room he paused and then froze completely, his gaze turning distant.

'What in the nine…' he muttered.

The next moment the tower's alarm sounded and Jarvis's voice was blaring through the room.

'Sir, the war criminal known as 'Loki' has been spotted in New York.'

Tony blinked and looked at Loki who raised an eyebrow, affronted.

'I most certainly have not.'

'Jarvis, elaborate.'

'Captain Rogers asked me to inform you that the police and S.H.I.E.L.D are being called in as we speak; Director Fury has requested the Avengers assist. Loki appears simply to have caused mass hysteria and so far as the Director is aware, no fatalities have occurred.'

Loki frowned, 'there was a power surge, moments ago. It may be connected. I will investigate.'

'Wait,' Tony grabbed his arm before he disappeared. 'It's definitely not you?'

'I am here, Stark.' Loki sneered, though his tone was bereft of any malice. He softened minutely at Tony's expression and sighed. 'I gave you my word, did I not? You would do well to remember that.'

'I do.' Tony said softly, serious, and then grinned. 'I just know all the freaky things you can do with your magic.'

Loki smirked lasciviously and raked his eyes over Tony's body, 'if only.'

'I like the sound of that;' Tony countered with his own lecherous leer.

Loki leaned in close, sliding his face along Tony's until he reached the sensitive shell of his ear.

'You have no idea.' He whispered, the words humming with a promise that suffused heat through the shorter man's body.

The God was gone almost before the sentence had left his lips, and Tony was left staring into empty space and feeling extremely cheated.

'Sir, perhaps you might like to put on your suit?' Jarvis suggested.

'Right, yes, yeah.' He shook himself out of his stupor, 'duty calls.'

…