Summary: Loki manages to get sick while at Stark Tower. Unfortunately for him, this means Tony gets to play nurse. Oneshot.
Fandom: Marvel's The Avengers
Rating: T
Pairing: FrostIron – Loki Laufeyson x Tony Stark
Warnings: Fluffiness, slash, cuddling, wit, poor attempts at humor, more fluff
Disclaimer: The Avengers and all affiliated characters belong to Marvel and the genius of Stan Lee. Le Petit Prince belongs to Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. The translation used is by Richard Howard.
Author's Note: So, I'm sick. Like, miserably sick. And my lack of brain power is leaving me bored out of my mind. My only entertainment has been imagining Loki just as sick as I am, out of the blue, and so I decided, why the hell not? Let's write this.
Thus, random FrostIron blurb is random. All comments and commentary are most welcome. Please enjoy the read. Hope it gives you cavities.
Misery Loves Company
"I was a heavy heart to carry but he never let me down
When he held me in his arms my feet never touched the ground
I'm so heavy – heavy in your arms…"
~Florence + the Machine, "Heavy in Your Arms"
Tony bit down a yawn as he struggled into his shirt and blinked the final vestiges of sleep out of his eyes. Stumbling for the couch, he hopped in place and tried to pull on his socks with one hand.
"The Board of Directors requested you personally," Pepper was saying over the phone, sounding far too hassled for so early in the morning. "Honestly Tony, some publicity won't kill you."
"I get plenty of publicity," Tony snarked to her, proud when he wiggled fully into his shoes without toppling over. "I'm a handsome billionaire genius who just so happens to be a superhero on the side. You can't get more public than that."
"You're also the main proprietor of Stark Industries," Pepper reminded him firmly, losing her patience.
"Yep, that too," Tony said cheerfully. A long-suffering sigh cut through the static. He imagined she was pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation and chuckled, knowing her cheeks would puff out like an affronted cat the moment she heard him. He zipped up his jacket. "Be there in half an hour Pep."
"You've got fifteen minutes," she snipped, non-negotiable, and then hung up. Tony laughed at his cell.
Publicity, huh? It was true that he had enough of it, just not the good kind. Being a superhero had its shortcomings, property damage and growing hospital bills being top on the list. Lack of time playing the responsible son and heir of Howard Stark was also up there if he bothered to count it. But good publicity was also boring publicity and as far as Tony was concerned, he'd spent the better part of his life being the perfect son and earning his company good publicity that it could more than easily counter the fun he was having now.
Besides, it's not like Tony couldn't see what was really freaking Pepper and everyone else in the world out. A year-long and very open relationship with a certain overlord of evil would naturally cause a shitstorm of confusion to develop (among other things). Superhero and villain, Ironman and the God of Mischief; it just wasn't done. No one expected it to last long. Yet they had, they were.
Tony smirked at the thought. Even he had been surprised that they'd made it to the year mark without a repeat of the window episode. They fit so well it was terrifying and they were only getting closer with time regardless of the odds stacked against them. No matter how damaging it could be to his image, Tony wasn't about to let it end, not when he was loving every second. Loki had had every opportunity to walk away but still he remained, just as obsessed with what they had as he was. Who cared if that meant he'd officially boarded the crazy train? Obviously they were meant to turn heads.
Screw good publicity. His company probably wanted to stuff a psych-evaluation down his throat by this point.
Bending to tie his shoelaces, Tony cast a long glance at the stairway leading to the bedroom. It was ridiculous how badly he wanted to go back to bed. He had never been much of a sleeper, a habit that had quite vexed Loki from the start of their relationship. The god had proven to be a regular morning bird, always nodding off when the sun set and up the moment it rose. Loki hadn't known just how to deal with Tony's insomnia and poor sleeping schedules during projects, but as their understanding of each other had grown, Loki's cleverness had kicked in where Tony's bad tendencies fell short.
It was a simple matter to get Tony into bed. Seduction worked best, but there were nights when Loki's height and strength were used to unfair advantage to get him there. Loki also proved to be quite the snuggler, stretching fully against Tony's back and wrapping an arm firmly around him. Once Tony was caught in that embrace, it was impossible to get out until the god was completely gone to dreamland. It was little more than a year-long miracle that Tony had mastered the staggering amount of stealth and self-control required to slip from his arms without waking him.
Last night had been no exception and Tony sighed to himself, heading for the elevator. Trying to distract himself from the call of his undoubtedly warm sheets and the god still asleep within them, he pulled out his Smartphone, casually flipping through weather reports.
"Jarvis? Remind me to never get up in the morning ever again," Tony groaned, rubbing pitifully at his eyes.
"Of course sir."
"And only Loki is allowed to wake me up from now on," he added in an afterthought, "because he's great at it. Doesn't drag me off to press conferences at some ungodly hour…"
"As though I would wish to," Loki mumbled from somewhere behind him, the pads of his feet nearly silent on the stairwell. "A press conference? I was under the impression you were free for the day."
He was just as unhappy with the change in plans as Tony was if the low, displeased rasp of his voice was any indication. Tony's grin was mere seconds away from falling clean off his face. He tried not to puddle over into goo.
"Life wanted to bite me in the ass today," he huffed a laugh, turning. "Sorry, but I'm sure I can think up something to make it up to you tonig-holy shit."
Loki raised a rather unimpressed eyebrow at him, not seeming to notice his own haggard appearance. As was usual, he was wearing one of Tony's oversized sleeping shirts and little else, the white fabric wrinkled and disturbed by the god's sleep, hanging crookedly off one shoulder. The lack of covering made it easier for Tony to notice the deep flush coloring Loki's neck and cheeks, the sweat-damp state of his hair sticking to his forehead, and, most alarmingly, the way every inch of him shook.
Tony stared at him. "The hell happened to you?" Arms crossed, back straight, Loki leaned against the wall as though wasn't about to keel over and die where he stood, peering at him in confusion.
"You look like Hell froze over," Tony reiterated for him. Loki frowned.
"I am perfectly well," he quipped. Snorting, Tony crossed the room, concern mounting with each step. Loki watched him through fever-hazed eyes, unmoving when Tony reached for his neck, clasped his hands on either side.
"Yeah right smartass. You're burning up," Tony hissed, lifting his fingers to Loki's brow. The god moved out of reach with a deep scowl.
"I said I am fine," he repeated with more force, betraying the hoarseness of his voice. He sidestepped, like an animal backed into a corner. In the face of his swift-showing pride Tony crossed his arms, unconvinced.
"So I'm supposed to believe you decided to play God of Fire and ate a frog this morning just for kicks?" He smirked wide. "That's lame, especially for you."
A deep sigh rattled through the god at that, softening his amusement. Gently grabbing Loki's elbow, Tony led him to the couch while he growled protests.
"There is nothing wrong with me," Loki rumbled out, half-hearted when he hit the cushions.
"Right and I've been secretly engaged to your brother for the whole of my life," Tony deadpanned, effectively silencing him. He grabbed the throw blanket and draped it around the other's shoulders, rubbing warmth into his arms. Loki looked at him mutely, exhaustion evident. He was trembling so much Tony could feel it through his hands; his body was undoubtedly trying to curl up into a pathetic little ball of misery, an urge Loki stubbornly fought with a set jaw and squared shoulders. Tony wrestled down a warm laugh at the sight.
"You're sick." He did his best to sound reassuring, despite his rising humor and curiosity. He didn't even know gods could get sick. You learn something new everyday, he supposed. Loki glared at him.
"I assure you, I am not." The haughtiness of his words did nothing but reaffirm the opposite. Try as he might to hide it, Tony could already tell he was panicking. And with good reason. It was always unsettling to realize you weren't as invincible as you thought yourself to be. Pride and trust were tricky things that did not always go hand in hand. Thankfully for Loki, this was a side of him Tony was no stranger to.
He tried a different tactic.
"When was the last time you were sick?" he asked, pressing a palm to Loki's forehead to gauge the height of the fever. Loki's expression darkened to a scary pallor and for a second he was sure the god was going to bite him.
"I told you, I'm not-"
"You're roasting like a fireplace, you're redder than a cherry and if your eyes get any hazier I'll assume you're sky high on the magic dragon and go search our room for weed." He laughed when Loki's brows furrowed and leaned down, matching their gazes on the same level with far more glee than was probably necessary. "I call bullshit on this plot."
It took nearly twenty seconds of glaring Loki down before the god's countenance finally broke and he snarled, defensive.
"Fine Stark. Yes, I am sick. Is that what you wanted to hear?" His shoulders bunched up, hackles rising on a wolf, his tone taking on a childishly hurt pitch. Knowing the confession had cost Loki a good deal of his pride, Tony straightened with a smile and gave Loki's arm a gentle squeeze.
"Yes actually, because now we can get somewhere. Honesty is the best medicine and all that." He waved a hand. "Seriously though, when was the last time you were sick?"
Loki blinked slowly and fixed him with the odd stare that let Tony know how surprised he was at being accepted so easily. Tony understood. He'd been there. He knew how much it sucked to be at the mercy and pity of others. It was always hard to be vulnerable around those you held in high regard, around those you trusted. But sometimes it was inescapable and running away got you nowhere. Trust was the only safe option outside of loneliness.
At Tony's knowing look Loki sighed, glancing away. "It has been centuries, though the effects are quite similar. My mother called it the sweeping sickness. The whole of Asgard could not escape falling prey to it."
Tony gave a low whistle at that.
"Sweeping sickness huh? Is it contagious to mere mortals as well?" Loki rolled his eyes.
"Yes Anthony," he said dryly, or, at least, as dryly as anyone could sound with a nose full of snot. "I'm afraid it is fatally contagious to one such as you, hence why I have so far allowed you to touch me and remain in my presence. I secretly mean to kill you and have been plotting this day since the moment of our re-acquaintance."
He trailed off in surprise when Tony kicked off his shoes and unzipped his jacket, letting it fall into a pile at his feet. Loki stared at him, eyebrow quirked.
"I thought you were otherwise engaged?"
"Oh yeah." Tony fumbled around for his phone and turned it off with a satisfied smirk. "Jarvis, be a dear and let Ms. Potts know the Board of Directors will have to terrorize someone else? I'm afraid Tony Stark has found a higher priority for the day that needs his complete and immediate attention."
"Very well sir."
Grinning broadly, he winked at Loki, who was staring at the black screen of his phone, stunned. Before he could talk him out of it, Tony plopped down on the couch next to him and flung his arm around his shoulders, drawing the taller man snugly against his side.
"Come here sicky," he sniggered, squeezing Loki close. The god's face bloomed red with embarrassed outrage but Tony had them horizontal by the time he found enough of his voice to get a word in to the contrary. Cradled in the corner of the couch, Tony drew Loki against his chest, adjusted the blanket so it remained snug, and laughed the moment Loki tried to weakly pull away, stilling him.
"Looks like I get you all to myself today after all," he smiled into Loki's hair. He twirled the soft strands with lazy fingers, enjoying his genius and basking in the moment. Humming quietly, Tony pressed slow circles between Loki's shoulder blades, moving down to the base of his spine where he knew he liked it best, until he could feel the god hesitantly relaxing, finally allowing himself to give in to the heat of the fever and the comfort of not being alone.
When he was certain he had reduced the god to a boneless puddle, he stared up at the ceiling.
"Jarvis, get DUM-E up here with a bowl of cold water and a rag."
"…are you sure that is the wisest choice sir?"
"Just tell him it's for Loki. He never messes up when he's got a god on call, the traitor."
"As you wish."
He felt Loki smile through his shirt.
"You're being surprisingly agreeable to all this," Tony chuckled to him and earned a hoarse laugh in return.
"I have known you long enough to understand how pointless it is to resist," Loki murmured into his neck, a contented breath shivering out of him. "Your hands have made quick work of me."
"Is this your surrender face?" He couldn't help the teasing smirk. Loki matched him easily.
"It matters little if it gains me your attention. As you say, the day is now ours. For as long as it lasts, I have you."
Pale fingers trembling with fever slipped possessively over his chest, curled into his shirt. Tony shook his head fondly. "A bit cheeky for a guy who wouldn't even admit to being sick in the first place."
"A poor habit of mine you had little trouble seeing through, such has been true with the rest of me."
"You're welcome." Tony lifted his hand to Loki's cheek, tracing gently down his jaw line and across the full smile that rose at his touch.
The hiss of the elevator and the hurried whirl of moving gears alerted them to DUM-E's presence and the bot quickly made his way to the couch, a bowl of ice water balancing precariously on his motor hood, a rag clutched in his robotic claw. Worried chirps blurred together into a single mechanized sound as Tony retrieved the water and set it safely on the ground. Loki reached out and gave DUM-E a tender pat, quieting the robot who purred at the attention. Tony dipped the rag and drenched it thoroughly, trying not to roll his eyes.
"Yeah yeah, he's the favorite around here," he huffed at his beloved machine and wrung out the water best he could with one hand. "Now make yourself useful and help daddy find his tablet."
Always eager to please, DUM-E quickly set off, poking through the couches and under the coffee table. While he scuttled around the room, Tony set the rag against Loki's temple and held it in place. A soundless moan escaped the god at the coolness of it and his hand found Tony's, weakly crisscrossing their fingers. Smiling, Tony ordered his stereo to turn on and for his air conditioner to kick in. Soft jazz immediately filled the room and the temperature started to drop. Fevered as he was, Loki was like a furnace. He could already feel sweat collecting around his outline, pooling under his back. He had no intention of moving but he wasn't about to die of heatstroke either. Tony didn't stop the cooling system until he could see the faintest trace of his breath on the air. The cold made Loki tremble worse and Tony snuggled him in closer, tugging the blanket in tight.
With a triumphant chirp, DUM-E approached with his tablet, unwilling to leave until Tony gave him the job of cleaning the workshop. After the elevator doors closed behind him, Loki gave a weak laugh.
"I fear your workshop will be left in a far bigger mess than it is at present."
"The boy's a tragedy," Tony sighed, re-wetting the rag. "At least he's out of our hair for the day."
Setting the cold fabric back in place, Tony lifted his tablet with his free hand, using the voice controls to surf through the multitudes of files. Loki stretched out against him, his head shifting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
"Is this to be our day's venture?" he murmured tiredly.
"Not like we have anything better to do than play patient and nurse. Not until your fever goes down anyway," Tony told him and brushed his thumb over a high cheekbone. Loki's eyes slowly closed in response. "Sleep would probably be the best for you."
"I'm not sure that is possible."
"Not even if I read to you?" he offered.
"Read what?"
"Whatever you want."
Loki considered that quietly, humming with each rough exhale. Tony started to think he'd lost him when he suddenly spoke again, a hint of warmth sliding through the rough tenor.
"'I soon learned to know that flower better,'" he recited, a smile on every word. "'On the little prince's planet, there had always been very simple flowers, decorated with a single row of petals so that they took up no room at all and got in no one's way. They would appear one morning in the grass, and would fade by nightfall…'"
Tony laughed at the familiar words and set his tablet down. When Loki's voice started to fade out, he continued on.
"'But this one had grown from a seed brought from who knows where, and the little prince had kept a close watch over a sprout that was not like any of the others. It might have been a new kind of bao-bab. But the sprout soon stopped growing and began to show signs of blossoming…'"
He spent the next couple hours reciting The Little Prince verbatim against the backdrop of smooth jazz. All the while his fingers carded through Loki's hair in smooth, unhurried patterns, trailing unconsciously down his arms and spine and up again, circling his neck. Somehow, the god managed to remain awake to the end of the story, but he'd finally stopped shifting and sleepily laid on Tony, eyelids drooping. Tony grabbed for his tablet again and pulled the files of his most recent projects, walking through them in detail. He knew Loki didn't understand half of what he was talking about, but the god made no protests. He only grew heavier and his breaths evened out as he relaxed to the sound of Tony's voice.
Tony was surprised reading through his plans wasn't igniting the fire to work like it usually did. Instead, his contentment only grew in the comfortable quiet and he knew, gazing down at Loki's peaceful face, he wouldn't be moving anytime soon. And, oddly enough, he was more than okay with that.
He let his words trail off, the gentlest of snores giving him pause. Nearly four hours and asleep at last. Tucking Loki's head under his chin, Tony slipped his tablet between the cushions. Gently settling his arms around, he pulled Loki close and allowed his eyes to slip shut.
All in all, a perfect way to enjoy a day. Snuggled on the couch with a snarky god and no regrets (even if it earned him a sick day tomorrow).
Good publicity indeed.
Lokið.
Yeah, sorry I'm not sorry. Totally pimping out Just a Rose. Pff I have no shame.
Seriously, there's nothing better than snuggling with someone when you're sick. But since I'm forever alone, I need to go snuggle with my blankets. Yus. And sleep might be helpful too. *stumbles away*
