Author's Note: Continuous thanks to all who've alerted and reviewed. So far, no one seems to have a problem if I were to up this story to M-Rating, still don't know if I can incorporate it, but it's good to know how people feel. Please continue to review and leave feedback, I do enjoy it.
Tony's right thumb taped the steering wheel anxiously; he hadn't slept well (not surprising) and made for an early start, not being able to stand waiting any longer than needed for his and Lawrence's 'talk'. So Tony threw on the first casual outfit he could find and hit the road towards Rampet Corporations, which left him in a car for forty-five minutes with nothing but his thoughts to keep company. Never a good thing.
Along the way Tony tried to form some kind of plan, the right way to apologize. He was torn between what he wanted to do and what he probably should do, but after replaying all types of scenarios, conversation, and getting nowhere really fast, Tony concluded that this was going to be a 'wing-it' type deal, he could only hope that the two sides of his dilemma reached an agreement before he reached his destination.
Even with bustling city life and god-awful traffic, the people who had no appreciation for cross-walks, and some jerk in a shiny new black Corvette who that he was real hot stuff, it felt like no time at all before the Rampet Corporations building came into Tony's view.
Pulling into the nearest parking space, Tony stepped out and gave his reflection in his car's waxed surface a once-over. Once he was finished flattening hair that looked fine and straightening out a shirt that didn't have wrinkles, Tony gathered his courage and walked into the building that housed a man Tony couldn't be sure wouldn't just have him tossed out on principle.
A directory, assistant, and five floors up had Tony in front of Lawrence's personal secretary, the remaining obstacle between Tony and his target, and she was typing away furiously at her computer, not even realizing he was in the room with her.
"Ahem."
Startled, the secretary, Kelly the name plaque provided, looked up. Soft brown eyes bordered with delicate gold glasses frames, freckles dusting her nose, and wavy blonde hair had Tony muse that this was the kind of girl he imagined Bruce would go for. She had that not-quite-nerdy cute look and seemed nice enough.
"Oh! Umm, I'm terribly sorry, what can I do for you?"
Tony smiled; she'd gotten over her surprise quickly enough, but still had an air of nervousness. She was definitely a reserved, quite-type.
"Well, I'm Tony Stark, and I was hoping to see your boss, Mr. Rampet."
"Do you have an appointment?"
Tony wondered if he should have gone for a suit. It was more convincing to look like you should see someone without scheduling it earlier in a freshly pressed shirt, tie, and slacks instead of the navy-blue long sleeved polo and jeans he was wearing.
"No."
Kelly's eyes shifted, unsure. "Um, you see, Mr. Stark, Mr. Rampet isn't seeing anyone today without an appointment, so . . ."
Tony turned his charm up to eleven and gave a enamoring smile, resting lightly on her desk.
"I just need to go over some things with Mr. Rampet about our contract. I wouldn't be more than five minutes."
The girl still looked hesitant, eyebrows furrowed and chewing on her bottom lip, clearly trying to decide if Tony was important enough to be an exception to her boss' explicit instructions.
"Well . . ."
Tony made an x-shape on his chest and gave her an open look. "Cross my heart."
That seemed to break her wavering resolve. "Okay . . . I suppose, since you're an associate of Mr. Rampet, just, Mr. Stark . . .?"
Tony gave an understanding nod and a wink. "I slipped by you completely unnoticed, in fact, I think you were probably getting something to drink. You never saw me."
Kelly smiled shyly. "Thank you Mr. Stark."
Tony flashed her one last smile before mentally preparing himself and walking into Lawrence's office.
The interior of the office was nice, elegant in its style, not overly furnished or artsy, but that wasn't where Tony's attention lay.
"Ah, Kelly, I was hoping you cou-"
Lawrence gazed up from whatever he'd been writing down to see it wasn't his secretary who had walked in.
"Mr. Stark."
Lawrence's face was blank and his voice polite enough. Tony guessed that was a good sign, though the fact that the dark-haired man addressed him with his last name settled uneasily in Tony's gut.
Tony cleared his throat, cynically wondering where his confidence with Kelly scurried off too.
"Hey Lawrence, um, you have a minute?"
"I do." And a pale hand gestured to either chair positioned in front of his desk.
Tony took a seat and tried to pick a place to start, knowing that Lawrence hated small talk as much as he did, however, Tony decided to forgo beating around the bush and dive right in.
"Look, about last night-"
Lawrence cut him off. "It's fine, Mr. Stark, three bone-harrowing, sleep-depriving days had just ended; the atmosphere was unrestricted and jovial and everyone was permitted an enjoyable time, yourself included. With alcohol in the mix, I will not fault you for something as trivial as a kiss, no apologies are necessary."
And there it was, a way out, practically thrown at him on a silver platter. Tony could take this readily-handed excuse and they'd never have to bring up 'the kiss' again. Lawrence was willing to let Tony go with this one, there wouldn't have to be any discussions, any deeper meaning. All Tony would have to do was smile, agree, and wish Lawrence a pleasant day on his way out. It would be so simple. So easy.
But it wouldn't go back to the way it had been, Tony could see it now in the way Lawrence hadn't quite looked him in the eye during this entire exchange. If Tony took the easy way out, then there would never be any more talks over Chinese takeout or shared laughs over tormenting a man by molesting fruit. It would all be business, because that awkwardness would never go away.
Lawrence would know that Tony kissed him, for whatever reason, and Tony would know he knew. They'd only talk on deals, stocks, and trade, wouldn't ever venture farther than 'how's the weather?'
And Tony didn't want that. He wanted to get to know the man who was such a private person, yet felt he could to open up to Tony about his troubled family past. Tony wanted to know the man with a delightfully wicked sense of humor hidden under that posh exterior. Tony wanted to know the man who spoke so eloquently in any conversation, who moved so gracefully with whatever he did, who could take Tony's gibes in not only in stride, but return them with equal precision.
Tony wanted to know Lawrence, and if he let this go, he never would.
Suddenly finding that confidence, Tony looked right at Lawrence, making sure those green eyes stayed on his brown. Tony didn't know where this was going to go, or how it was going to end, but he wasn't going to walk away. He was a mature adult after all, despite evidence to the contrary.
"I wasn't going to apologize for kissing you."
Tony couldn't be serious, yet he was fixing Loki with such a stare, those eyes, so much more in them the mediocre person was blind too, that believing Tony to be otherwise seemed foolish. So he must have heard wrong.
"Pardon?"
Tony appeared far less anxious then when he'd first come in and Loki was wary of what produced that change.
"I'm not sorry for kissing you.' Tony said, his second nature charisma seeping back into his words, 'I am sorry I didn't ask you beforehand."
It took all his restraint for Loki to keep the incredulousness from reaching the impassive wall he'd built around himself. Loki had taken much time to think the night before, and decided that in order to salvage what he could from their affiliation, there would have to be an opening for them both to re-establish a comfortable business partnership.
So Loki gave that to Tony, and once he'd accept it, as Loki already had, they could move on from the confounding chaos that was last night. It wasn't a seamless plan, but it was the most efficient.
However, Loki really should stop assuming with Tony Stark, the man never did what the trickster knew to be evident in an identical position. Here he was, confronting a problem that would be better left avoided.
Loki wondered if it was bravery or arrogance.
"I'm afraid I do not understand you, Mr. Stark. In lieu of sounding incompetent, please make yourself clear." Loki wasn't sure if he was intentionally being dense, or truly ignorant of what Tony was trying to say.
The man before him sighed, but didn't falter.
"I like you Lawrence. I've liked getting to know you, and I certainly liked kissing you' -Loki did not feel heat rising to his cheeks- 'to be honest, I'd like to see where this could go."
"We could be associates, friends, mortal enemies, frenemies,' Tony shrugged, 'maybe more. I just know that I don't want to give up without trying. So, who knows?"
Loki was now very aware of how hard his hands were griping each other atop his desk, and how his lungs weren't taking in sufficient air. He had to break away from those dark eyes.
What Tony was saying without saying, what he was inferring, was that he was interested in pursuing some kind of relationship. Loki wasn't sure how to process this information, he, an alien deity masquerading as human, involved in an impractical entanglement with media-teaser, CEO prodigy Tony Stark, it was borderline absurd.
Tony must have caught onto Loki's rational doubts, for his face morphed into something less overconfident and more hopeful.
"It doesn't have to be anything serious. We could go to dinner and find that we're better friends, or you could sock me for getting handsy and file a restraining order, but isn't that the fun of trying?"
Loki took brief reserve in the amusement of musing how bored Tony truly was if he considered a restraining order fun. The moment of reprieve was over much too soon and Loki had to address what Tony was asking for, and returned his green gaze to the man standing in his office.
It was ridiculous, really. If they were to become involved, their business arrangement had the possibility of suffering, a single misplaced word could lead to hurt feelings and generate irrational decisions, opinions would become biased; it is unwise to mix business with pleasure.
That was, of course, giving credence to the possibility that anything did form between himself and Tony. They'd known each other, maybe for a month, and of that time had resided in one another's presence for a few limited days. It was ludicrous thinking there was a satisfactory amount of interchange to base a working relationship on. Even entertaining the idea was idiotic and Loki would do well to put it from his mind.
'But', a small part of him whispered, neither treacherous nor faithful, 'you can't ignore it, because you have enjoyed your time with this man as much as he says he's enjoyed his time with you.'
There are those who say it takes a strong man to admit when he is wrong, Loki would be inclined to agree, but it also takes a strong man to admit the things he'd rather not. And liking the idea of pursuing a relationship with Tony Stark was one of those things Loki wished he could not admit.
Binding himself to Tony in any other way besides business necessity would leave him open for an attack, it was a weakness . . .
'Wait . . .' Loki's eyebrows furrowed as he re-examined his own thoughts.
What weaknesses would being in an intimate bond with Tony bring forth? True, aspects of such a relationship could be exploited by media and persons otherwise, but when did Loki care about the cutting tongues of others? Loki was no longer amongst the royalty he didn't trust, thus stayed himself from having a more meaningful connection with another being. Loki was on Earth, where the cut-throat, back-stabbing industry of business was inconsequential compared to his life on Asgard.
Asgard . . . Loki kept looking at this as though he was still part of the higher realm, always careful of Odin's judgment and constantly having his deeds bested by Thor.
Well, Odin did not rule over Midgard, and Thor was off playing superhero, utterly unaware of Loki's presence on the planet, if there was any reason to keep him from trying this 'thing' with Tony, then it should be Loki.
Loki was completely in control of the situation; he could say yes, he could say no, the only influence in his decision was his own.
Loki liked Tony, he honestly did. Two years of building up a life on Midgard had left little in the way of forging relationships; the God of Mischief was no stranger to loneliness.
Loki did not want to abandon a friendship with a man he found so entertainingly interesting over the awkwardness of impulsive physical affection, and yes, while if could be potentially disastrous for business if they were to have a falling out, Loki determined it was worth the fun of the venture he and Tony would take to see where they could end up. A catastrophic outcome was something Loki would have to chance.
He started this new life, and Loki was going to ensure he did not dictate it as his previous one.
The trickster let out a breath, a mixture of defeat and triumph, and his mouth split into a smile, something kind and sultry and aloof.
"Well,' Loki looked away from Tony, feigning interest in his fingernails, 'your offer is most tempting, did you have a place you wanted to start . . . Mr. Stark?"
Tony's features adapted something wolfish, and the brown-eyed man dealt a toothy smile.
"I did,' he said, Tony coming closer, leaning on the desk and leveling his face with Loki's, 'but for it to work, I need to ask you a very serious question."
There was a lengthy pause, Tony was clearly one for dramatics, and it nearly brought Loki to elated laughter.
"Do you like Italian?"
