Inspired by the song "I Miss You" by "Blink182". Somehow.
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"So let me get this right," Bruce took of his glasses, cleaning them with his purple long-sleeved, button-up shirt. "You keep having these dreams about this... guy, whose name you don't know?"
"Yup."
"And you just sit on the balcony of this building... talking?"
"Yup."
"You do realise that he's just a dream, right?"
"I know," I groaned, leaning back in the spinney chair I was sitting on, turning slightly in it. "I know and that's what makes it so annoying! He doesn't exist, I know he's not real but he..." I sighed "He affects me so much. I see things day in, day out and I think 'hey, that reminds me of that guy whose name I don't know whose in my dreams!' and you know what sucks? The fact that I feel this way toward him yet I don't even know his fucking name."
"...And the fact that he doesn't exist."
"Yeah. That, too."
"So you're in love with this man who appears in your dreams every night, you know a lot about him but you don't know his name." Bruce stated, giving me one of those "are-you-crazy" looks.
"Look Bruce," I sat up slightly in my chair so that I could look at him properly. "I came to you because I thought you'd have an explanation for this, or... just... anything but my stupid fairy tale thoughts."
"Well I specialise more in healing sick people and chemistry, rather than dreams and... psychological stuff."
"Don't worry about it. I'll... figure something out." I sighed again, standing up and heading toward the elevator.
"Hey, where're you going?" I heard Bruce call from behind me, I pushed the button to the elevator and stepped in when the doors open.
"To the penthouse to have a drink or two. Hopefully a few. Enough to make me forget."
"Forget what?"
"The emptyness." I replied simply, the elevators doors closing, ending the conversation between myself and Bruce.
"You are early."
I turned around when I heard the smooth; playful voice I'd been waiting for, looking up at the familiar sharp featured face. "Nope," I grinned and pointed at him "You're just late."
He raised an eyebrow and smirked down at me, before walking the distance between us and sitting down beside me, hanging his legs off of the edge of the balcony of the building. Stark Tower. My building.
My stomach flipped and churned as I looked at him, his face illuminated by the city lights all around us and his hair blowing slightly from the wind. His emerald green eyes shone, reflecting the city life that surrounded us and as he looked at me, I looked away, my lips turning up into a smile.
"I never got your name." I stated, raising my coffee cup to my lips and taking a sip, glancing at him as he looked at me.
"I never got yours," The playful smirk and the mischief that shined brightly in his eyes never left, never faded. "Although I do not think it is necessary for me to ask." He gestured toward the big letters that were attached to the building - STARK - before raising an eyebrow questioningly at me.
I shrugged. "Gotta make it shine bright and clear that this masterpiece of a building is owned by moi."
He snorted as a response, not saying anything more.
"So," I handed him the cup of hot chocolate that was sitting on the side of the balcony beside me, waiting for him. "Name?"
He took the mug, holding it between both of his hands. He had his legs crossed as he looked down into the mug, his arms resting on his legs. "Loki."
"Loki? ...Low-Key? ...Lo-Ki?" I grinned at him as he glanced up, giving me an irritated look. "I like it. Rolls off the tongue nice. I think it'd be a good name to shout. Scream. Whichever you prefer. Wanna test this theory out? 'Cause I'm more than willing-"
"Do shut up, Stark, for atleast thirty seconds." I took a sip of my coffee to compensate for the words that were most definately not leaving my mouth. I could tell that Loki was smirking into his cup, that he was enjoying this.
Twenty two, twenty one, twenty...
I leaned backward, resting my body weight on my hands as I looked up at the night sky. Cloudy, not that many stars. Not that you'd see many stars in the middle of Manhattan, anyway. Light pollution and all that jazz.
Thirteen, twelve, eleven...
Damn. I'd like to just lie down, chill out and watch the stars with Loki.
Loki. Whose name I've just learnt. Loki. Whose raven black hair was styled so that it's eleganty slicked back, flicking outward at the back slightly because it was naturally wavy. Loki, whose green eyes shone brightly with mischief, daring someone to approach him so that he can prank them - trick them.
Loki. Whose-
Three... Two... One...Time up!
"You can call me Tony, you know." I gave him one of my shit-eating grins as he glanced at me, giving me a half-hearted glare.
"Stark-"
"Tony."
He sighed. "Tony, what did I state a moment ago-"
"You demanded that I be quiet for atleast thirty seconds - of which I did, by the way - and yes, you demanded rather than stated."
Whilst he held his mug of hot chocolate in one hand, he leaned his head toward the other and rubbed his forhead with the tip of his long, pale, slender fingers. His eyes were closed and seeing him like this made him look exhausted, tired and fed up.
The vision in front of me; Loki, the city, everything started to fade as it was replaced by a blurry, white light. Panic rose up inside of me as I realised what was happening; my stomach flipped and my eyes clung on to the last glimpse of Loki as what wasn't reality slowly started turning into it.
The grogginess, the feeling of my head being trod on by a thousand or so elephants, the darkness of the room around me and the bright blue light of my arc reactor that illuminated part of the room.
"Good morning, Sir." The familiar English accented voice - JARVIS - greeted as he changed the windows so that they were no longer blacked out, but were perfectly clear, the bright light streaming in and Manhattan city being seen as a view instead of the view of the ocean that I was used to being greeted with on my cliff-side mansion.
I groaned as the light shone in my eyes, causing a sharp pain to go through my head. I squeezed my eyes and shielded them by putting the duvet over my head and turning over so that my back was facing the window.
"You need to stop doing that, JARVIS..." I muttered. "Time?"
"Six forty two in the morning, Sir. Shall I put on the coffee machine for you?" If it was possible, JARVIS' voice sounded more sassy than usual. More "I-told-you-so-ish" than usual.
If it weren't for the fact that JARVIS was basically a God, which was not difficult to believe seeing as I made him, and the fact that I literally cannot survive without him, then I would re-program him.
But hey, who doesn't like a bit of sass every now and then?
Sass. I sighed as the familiar sinking feeling of my stomach kicked in and the familiar pang of pain in my chest registered.
I missed him. I missed the man from my dreams, the man who turned up every night, but never in the day-time. The man who only appeared in my dreams because he wasn't fucking real. The man who was sassy, sarcastic, funny. The man who had the same sense of humour as me, who has similar problems to my own. The man who slicked his raven black hair back, dressing elegantly, proudly. The man whose green eyes shone, full of the emotion that he refused to let register on his face.
The man whose name I'd finally found out.
Loki.
I walked into the kitchen feeling like shit. Absolute shit. I was tired, I was confused and I was stressed. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and went over to the coffee machine, to find it... broken. With a small, arrow shaped hole in the wall behind the now-in-a-million-pieces piece of technology that was once called the coffee making machine.
"JARVIS," I mumbled whilst banging my head against the cupboard door in front of me. "Order a new coffee machine. Clint broke it again."
"Certainly, Sir. The same as the last one?"
"The most recent, most fanciest coffee machine you can find. Maybe then he'll learn not to be Legolas in the kitchen."
"Sir?"
"What?"
"May I suggest that you stop hitting your head against the kitchen cupboard? You may damage the kitchen further, Sir."
"Gee, thanks for all the love and care, JARV..."
"You are welcome, Sir. I am here to please."
"JARVIS..." I sighed irritably as I made my way out of the kitchen and toward the elevator, in search for a coffee shop that sells relatively decent coffee.
"...There is a small coffee shop one block away that has only positive reviews, Sir."
"Thanks Jarv." I pressed the elevator button and waited for it to travel up the building to the penthouse floor.
"Sir?"
"What?"
"You may want to put some clothes on before you leave the building."
I looked down at myself, seeing that I was only wearing my boxers, socks and the same Black Sabbath t-shirt that I had worn yesterday and slept in, my arc reactor shining brightly through it.
"Good idea, JARV. Could you imagine the headlines?"
I walked down the streets of Manhattan toward the small coffee shop JARVIS had told me about, wearing a pair of sunglasses to block out the light and my (very) expensive grey suit. I ran a hand through my hair, that was sticking up in various directions as I hadn't bothered to style, and sighed as the familiar sinking, empty feeling wouldn't leave me.
Why did he have this effect on me? He was a dream. A dream for christ sakes! Not to mention the fact that, oh; dreams were most definately NOT REAL.
I scratched at my extremely awesome facial hair, though some people may dispute that, (of which their arguments are invalid because c'mon, I'm Tony Stark.) and I opened the door to the small, cosy, coffee shop, of which opened with a 'ding' of a bell.
The door shut behind me, quietening the buzz of Manhattan traffic as I walked up to the counter, putting my hand in my pocket as I reached for my wallet.
"Hello. May I take your order?"
I froze, looking up and lowering my sunglasses to get a better view. My eyes widened as my stomach churned and flipped, my heart beating faster because oh my God this cannot be fucking real and oh my God apparently he was thinking the same thing because he was staring at me equally as shocked.
The shock only registered for a moment on his face, before he cleared his throat, holding a closed hand in front of his mouth as he did so. "Stark," He started, his green eyes glowing, showing disbelief and utter amusement. "I... have been waiting for you."
"Well' y'know. Clint broke the coffee machine again." I blurted, still staring at him in disbelief because he shouldn't fucking exist but oh my God he was standing there, right in front of me, smirking, for christ sakes.
"Cappuccino with cream and chocolate sprinkles or your usual black coffee?" He asked, not quite hiding the fact that he was trembling slightly.
"I think I'll take the strongest form of coffee you have." I said, taking off my sunglasses and putting them in my suit pocket and rubbing my eyes, before looking at him again.
Yup, he was definately still there.
He gave a short, hysterical laugh, giving me one last, long look before turning around and getting my order for me. I patted rapidly around my jacket, checking the pockets, searching for my phone. I gripped it and pulled it out of my pocket, hands shaking, breathing in shakily and laughing slightly under my breath - I called Bruce.
"Tony?"
"Y'know what? I think I finally believe what they told us in school." I laughed, this time out loud; whether it was out of joy, out of crazyness or out of pure disbelief, I wasn't sure.
"What're you talking about, Tony?" Bruce sounded confused and God, if anyone was supposed to be confused it was me. Because the man - Loki - the man in my dreams was standing right before my eyes.
"Dreams can come true." I stated, grinning like an idiot.
Not quite sure whether to do a sequel or not!