Loki had returned to Stark towers after speaking to Fury about his dreams. Fury only warned Tony that, if Loki were to act strange at all, he'd have to be sent back to the S.H.I.E.L.D building. The inventor agreed and kissed Loki's cheek, happy that the god was back.
That was a month ago.
Now, Loki was pushing onto Tony, his hands splayed on Tony's chest. He grunted a few times, brow creased in concentration. Tony, however, was more vocal. As the god had pressed onto him harder, he let out an almost girlish squeal.
"Ah, Loki s-stop!"
"Just a little longer," The god said, looking at his hands. "I'm almost there."
"But it hurts!"
"You've had worse, I'm sure."
"H-hurry up!" Tony tilted his head back, sweat dripping down his face. Loki only made a small sound and continued to finish his job. Tony gripped the cloth on Loki's shoulders, feeling the end nearing.
"A-ah, Loki, Loki huuurry uuup-aaah!"
And then, Loki backed away, smiling with accomplishment. "You made that sound worse than it was."
"Well it was shrapnel, and, as I mentioned before, it fucking hurt."
Loki no longer became angered at the usage of profanity, though he himself swore against it. Most of the time, anyways. He'd just used most of his magick to remove the shrapnel embedded deep in Tony's chest, and instead of blue, the arc reactor glowed a deep, bright green.
"You are such a child, Stark."
"Yeah, whatever. I'm never gonna get used to this. It's green." He poked the reactor as if it'd turn him into the Jolly Green Giant or something. He was slightly disappointed when he pulled his finger away, normal.
"And you're a keen observer of the obvious," Loki remarked with a wink. "Maybe you should be thankful instead of complaining."
"Thanks for ripping shrapnel out of me."
"And...?"
"And wha- Oh. And for making my life span out longer, I guess." Tony's watch beeped; an alarm for a meeting he'd never wanted to go to. Loki noticed and pushed him away.
"Go. You will be late for whatever it is that contraption warns you of."
"You'll be okay here with JARVIS?"
"I will live. Lokitty is here as well, so I am sure I will survive. Go now." Loki kissed the corner of Tony's mouth, earning himself a playful groan of annoyance. "I shall have the talking roof alert you if something is wrong."
"Well I can't leave now that I have a dillema."
"Hmm? And what would that be?"
"You. Not kissing me right." Tony looked defiantly at the god, who supressed a sigh. Loki leaned forward and kissed Tony, slow and deliciously cool. Tony loved how cool Loki's skin temperature was, even though he'd explained before that he was a frost giant, and was supposed to be bitterly cold. As Loki pulled away, Tony, very briefly, thought of what it would be like to have the frost giant version of Loki in his bed. He quickly shooed the thought out of his mind, and was nudged by the god.
"I kissed you. Now go."
The genius sighed, then started to walk out. "You'd better not get possessed by anyone before I come home."
"I shall try my best."
"Good. Be back in an hour or somewhere along those lines."
"Until then."
And then he was gone.
And Loki was alone.
The trickster hadn't been alone too much since his six day dream, where he had witnessed Thanos's death and Red Skull ominously warning Loki about his body being possessed. After being told he was allowed to go home with Tony, they'd hugged and kissed and became tangled in each other's embrace. And the love that churned between the both of them was definitely etched into Loki's memory. He was losing their little race, seeing as though Tony had topped him twice more. Loki didn't care though; he was back, and he was happy.
At least, that's what he thought. But because of the trade-off that happened before the dream, Loki had a hard time trusting the genius. He'd often be caught reading on the couch, and Tony would ask to join him. Because of his uncertainty, he'd always responded negatively. In fact, after the first night, Loki had rarely even kissed the inventor, and if he did, it would always be on the corner. Corners were safe, he'd decided. Corners didn't force you to trust, and it didn't force you away.
Loki travelled to the bar, where they'd had their first real fight about nothing but their relationship. No stupid Thanos draining his magick, none of Tony's surprising explanations, but just plain and simple fighting.
It was about Loki's insecurity, which the god was pretty sure Tony had become fed up with.
"Why do you keep looking at me like I'm going to put you out like a sad puppy?" Tony had asked.
"Perhaps it is because I am wary that you may do so once again," Loki had responded icily, his green eyes narrowing. Of course, Tony felt bad about what he'd done. But it was for his own good, he'd thought. Which was, stupidly, what he said.
Loki erupted.
"For your own good? You think tricking me into loving you just so you could rid yourself of me later was for your own good? And what, I'm supposed to be some, some creature whom you'd just lie to to get information or whatever it was you were thinking? You know what? I thought keeping away from you was for your own good. Not mine, but yours. And now you tell me that tricking me and lying to me, me especially, was for your own good? Do you ever pause to think about me, or what I've felt, or anything other than yourself? You selfish little creature! I could have died, and all you'd be upset about was, was that your great source of information on the 'bad guys' has ceased to exist!"
Tony had stopped with widened eyes full of fury. "Oh, I'm the selfish one? You always stormed away when I was actually trying to be sincere to you! And then you seem to be having all these problems with yourself, so I helped you out, and this is the thanks I get? I set aside my life and actually tried to help you and comfort you. But you kept pushing me away, Loki. You kept pushing me away and I didn't know what else to do. That's why I called Fury. Not just because I thought it'd be for my own good, but because I thought it'd be for yours as well."
"Which is why you falsified your words of love to me when I was finally warming up to you. Finally feeling like I didn't need to tell you lies to protect you because I thought you'd hate me. And yes, I pushed you away, but only because I didn't want you to hurt!" Loki had clenched his fists at his sides, and dug his nails into his palms to keep from breaking down in front of someone whom he'd tried to prove a point to. "I didn't want to see you feel pain for me. And when we went outside that time, with the ducks, I actually believed what you said to me. I believed you meant it when you'd told me I was nothing like that different duck. And that was when you handed me over. And that was what broke me. The way you'd made me believe you were in love with me, and then... And then..." Loki had looked into Tony's eyes, hurt clearly visible. "And then, I regretted it.
"So you can ask me why I look at you a certain way, and I will tell you the same thing. You betrayed what meager trust I'd ever had for anything and tore me up inside. All that time in that place, I hoped you were happy." And then Loki had left, leaving a dumbstruck Tony in his kitchen. That night, the tears did not come for the god, and he was disappointed for that.
Now, Loki looked around, calling for Lokitty. At least he could take a nap with his kitten. Well actually, that wasn't right. Lokitty was no longer a kitten, but a cat. He was so big, with sleek dark fur, and a meow that was no longer high-pitched and squealy. Loki was surprised when he'd found Lokitty lounging on the deck, his black fur soaking in the sun. "Lokitty," Loki called, smiling at the cat. He turned at the sound of his name, stretched, and trotted over to his master, rubbing his head on Loki's leg and purring. The god picked him up, and held him, nuzzling into the cat's neck fur happily.
They both got comfortable and Loki'd passed out almost instantly. Since leaving S.H.I.E.L.D., he'd had no more nightmares, nor any visits from unwanted guests.
But when he'd opened his eyes to see a vague image of a certain dead Chitauri leader blurring in his head, he'd known.
The day was nearing.
He was going to either conquer and destroy Midgard, or die under the reign of someone else.
