It had been two days since their first kiss- Tony says first because it was their first real, meaningful kiss, so it was technically their first- and things were going good. Well, as good as can be expected for the Man of Iron and the God of Mischief.
It was rather late in the night, and they were lying together in Tony's too big bed in the silk sheets, tangled in each other's arms, when Tony brought it up again.
"So, that night…." Yes, the night as their first kiss was, and would always be, known as 'that night'. "I asked you when you first found out when you were Jotun. Now, I want to rephrase that; how did you first find out?" Tony asked, turning his head to look up at Loki. Loki looked like he was battling in an internal conflict before he sighed.
"Well, a deal is a deal, I suppose. It was about three years ago, your time. I was in battle in Jotunhiem, when a Jotun took hold of my arm. Typically, the Jotun would've burnt my arm- frost bite- and that could possibly ended use of it. My skin did change color, as it was supposed to, though I didn't feel the pain of the burn." Loki stopped for a moment and took a deep, slow breath. Tony's brow furrowed.
"You don't have to tell me, it's alright," he said, taking Loki's hand in his own, twining their fingers together.
"No, I've already started. There would be no point in stopping. As I was saying, I didn't feel pain. It was then that I realized I was different. When Thor and I- along with the Warriors Three and Lady Sif- returned home, I immediately confronted Odin. He told me of my true parentage, and, as expected, I did not take it well," Loki was staring off into the distance now, his eyes haunted. This time, Tony didn't interrupt. Loki's voice was much softer now, a vulnerability in it that he didn't show often. "I'd been lied to my entire life, Anthony, taught to hate the very creature I am." Loki broke off then, and Tony kissed the god's knuckles. There was a beat of silence that Tony did not dare break, letting Loki get his façade back up, at least to gather himself, before he said;
"Alright. I guess it's your turn now." Loki was quiet for a moment before his eyes moved to the faint glow of the arc reactor through Tony's shirt. Tony tensed, knowing what was coming.
"How is it that you gained this?" Loki asked, gently tapping his fingers on the reactor. Tony took a breath, trying to push back the memories. "You mustn't answer if you do not wish to," Loki added.
"Hey, like you said; a deals a deal. It was about…five years ago. I used to make weapons. Remember how I told you that, but also told you I stopped? Well, I was riding in a tank through Afghanistan, when a bomb took out the tank in front of us. Colonel James Rhodes- one of my best friends- told me to stay in the tank. I didn't listen, because you know what, I'm Tony Fucking Stark and I do what I want. Well, that didn't work out well for me." Tony took a deep breath as the memories played out in his mind in sequence, shooting back at him like bullets. "I hid behind a rock, trying to stay away from gun fire, when a bomb landed next to me, and you know what it said on the side?" Tony laughed a bitter laugh. "Stark. It was one of my own missiles. It blew up, sending shrapnel pieces into my chest. I was taken captive by the Afghans. A man named Yinsen…." He trailed off as emotions welled up in his chest. "He saved me. He got all the shrapnel from my chest that he could, and built one of these," he tapped the arc reactor, "From scratch, powered on a car battery, to save me. Long story short, I ended up captive for three months, making my first suit with Yinsen's help. He was killed as we left, so I set all the Afghan's arms supply on fire," he said, clasping his trembling hands together. He still had nightmares about that, finding Yinsen, bloody and dying, trekking through the desert feeling utterly hopeless…..Loki's warm hands taking his own pulled him from the depths of his own mind. "Couldn't let you have all the fun, could I?" he said in a shaky voice.
"Of course not," Loki said softly, tugging Tony closer and kissing the crown of his head. Tony sighed, wrapping both arms around Loki and laying his head on the god's chest. "Glad you're here," Tony mumbled sleepily. He didn't know how Loki could do that, make him feel safer and tired and loved all at the same time. He sank into the god's comforting embrace, and for the second time, he heard those soft words whispered, this time like a prayer;
"Sleep, Anthony."
And, like last time, he did.
