HUD: So here's the True Ending. While I was writing this, it was all I wrote for four weeks straight and developed into a damn monster. By the time that I got to the ending, I was pretty much done with this lol, and I skimped on my own ending. Which is why I'm bring it to you now! Enjoy.


- True Ending -


"Why do all of this? Why me?" Loki asked.

Tony's honey eyes shifted to pure honesty, his entire body language changing. "Because I love you."

Loki's smile slipped. He could feel it, the stirring in his chest and belly. All this time, all these years, spent idolizing and adoring a man an entire world away, only to meet him in a whirlwind of a week and discover that he, indeed, felt some of the similar spark. Loki swallowed.

He wanted to succumb. Oh, how badly did he want to - but all of it, everything, was wrong. Tony felt so strongly for him that it developed into an obsession, and not one that Loki could condone. He needed to leave, regardless of the longing he felt for the other inventor. This wasn't healthy. Tony Stark wasn't healthy. He was a madman, a murderer - the pilot of the Iron Man suit, marking him as a villain to boot. He needed help, help that Loki couldn't give.

Loki rose from his seat, resigned. He crossed the few feet still between them and stood very still, drawing to his full height. "No."

Tony blinked, his eyes still so bright and confused. "No, what?"

"No, to this," Loki explained, gesturing to the air between them. "To everything. I cannot stay here, with you. I cannot be here at all."

The pain that leaked into Tony's eyes was raw and devastating. "I'm not an idiot, Loki. I know you feel the same."

"You're wrong," Loki answered, his voice strong. He was proud of himself for not crumbling, but lying had always been second nature for him anyway and it was easier to do than accept the want coursing through his veins. Loki dropped a hand to the worktable that Tony sat on, noticing immediately how Tony leaned towards him. Loki wrapped trembling fingers around his discarded glasses and stepped back. "I don't feel any of it. Perhaps a curiosity, yes, but not what you claim."

"I can work with that," Tony answered, his voice low. "Give me a chance, Loki. I've proven that I care, it's so obvious it actually hurts, but I need you to trust me - "

"No." This time, Loki snapped. Tony blinked, surprised at his quick irritation. "No. I did trust you, and what has become of that? I was brought here under the pretense to work, only to have my contribution stuttered and be attacked by the very reason I was sought out. I have confided things to you that I would not another, and yet those, too, seemed to be placed in ill faith. Stark, I - " Loki didn't miss it, no - he certainly did not miss the slight flinch Tony gave when he used his last name, supposedly downgraded in his mind. "I simply cannot."

Tony nodded mutely, his gaze cast over Loki's shoulder to fixate on a point that was unseen and his expression entirely blank. Loki righted his glasses, surprised with himself for how long he went without. He blinked once the world slid back into focus, taking in the image of the man before him.

Tony Stark sat slumped forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He was toned well, the obvious care he put into his physique making Loki swallow quickly. This man was literally all Loki could ever want - intelligent beyond belief, quirky and witty, ungodly handsome with a breathtaking smile, and the most curious shade of bright eyes Loki had ever seen. It was a shame that he was a mass-murderer, a shame he was the world's most sought-after villain, a shame that Loki had to restrain himself from taking back all he said and falling happily into that strong embrace. If he stayed and stared any longer, no doubt his own resolve would crumble.

"I need to pack my things," Loki said softly. The atmosphere of the room was heavy and thick. Tony still wouldn't look properly at him, eyes entirely too interested in a spot on the wall, but he did nod. The door behind him slid open, catching Loki's attention. DUM-E whirled brightly and exited the room with a loud chirp. Loki envied him.

Loki looked back at what was possibly the last time he would ever see Tony Stark in person. The controlled blank expression still lingered, but now his eyes appeared simply hollow. "Your secret is safe with me, regardless."

Loki's voice was so quiet, he doubted Tony even heard him. The genius blinked slowly and adjusted his gaze ever so slightly. Loki couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine. The only light from the man was the too bright blue from his chest. His personality wasn't there, anywhere in his body language or his eyes. In that moment, Loki hated himself more than ever before. He caused that - he broke Tony Stark.

"I know," he answered, his lips quirking in a sad smile. "You're more than I ever hoped for, could ever hope for." Tony pushed himself off of the worktable and crossed his arms over the arc reactor. Loki blinked at the loss. "When you're ready, there will be a car to take you to the airport." Tony faced the Iron Man suit and didn't turn back. Loki nodded and turned away, heading for the safety of the outer lab. He paused just a moment, feeling the need to say something else but not knowing what.

Behind him, Tony stood with his back to him, still staring up at the suit. The light from the arc reactor spilled from between his crossed arms and brightened the red and gold metal. Loki could only pretend to imagine the thoughts racing through his mind.

"Goodbye," Loki said softly. Tony didn't answer or even act as though he had heard. Loki lingered a moment, but as the seconds stretched to minutes and Tony still didn't respond, Loki turned and exited the lab. He ignored DUM-E as the little bot rolled around him; he stared at his feet as the elevator fell, and he packed with much less finesse than he normally would.

As Loki walked down the stairs of Stark Tower to the car waiting below, he finally allowed himself to look back. The building was tall and beautiful against the winter grey sky. He ran his eyes along the glass paneling, believing that he could pick out the floor he had stayed on. The building was too high and he soon felt the draw of dizziness, but Loki pressed on. The sunlight and height quickly became too much; Loki looked away and shook his head.

Perhaps that was the part of him that didn't want to leave, the part that regretted leaving Tony alone in that room with only the suit for company. He didn't want to leave, he didn't want to be without him. After such few days of having exactly what he wanted, finding out that Tony was exactly what he wanted, Loki couldn't help the guilt of regret. Perhaps, if he stared long enough at the window to his flat, he could be there again. But as he sat down in the back of the black car with a one-way trip to the airport, Loki knew it wouldn't be possible.

Loki had to stay resolute, regardless of how much he hated himself for it. Leaving the Tower in the rear view mirror helped, but nothing would erase that look of defeat and hollowness from Tony Stark's eyes. Loki knew a part of himself would be left in that room with him.

In fact, as the car pulled further and further away, Loki was beginning to miss that eerie light shining from the genius' chest.


Two weeks later, Loki wasn't feeling any better. He had attempted to keep himself busy with tasks for the company, drawing up new plans for security programmes and fire walls. When that ran out, Loki regrettably reached out to Thor. Regardless of their history, he was the last closest thing Loki still had to a family.

Loki met Thor for lunch after the first week had passed, and of course the very first question Thor asked was about the tabloid cover photo of he and Stark. Loki brushed it off as best as possible, explaining that the press release he issued had been correct.

"You know Americans, Thor," he had answered, voice distant. "They do love their Photoshop."

Thor had believed him, as had the rest of the world. Stark Industries never issued anything in agreement or denial, making Loki believe that Stark himself truly didn't care either way. The thought made Loki's chest constrict painfully, but he had no one to blame but himself. The rest of the lunch had been smooth, and Thor had managed to corner a distracted Loki into going to a show with him, his new girlfriend, and Odin. On a good day Loki would have evaded, but the whole affair with Stark still had his mind in rivets.

Two weeks now and only a few days from the show, Loki was absolutely crumbling. He paced his floors, he felt his anxiousness returning, he wanted to leave for fresh air and stay indoors as a recluse all in the same. His usual favourite coffee hardly had the same flavour; the colours of the London skyline appeared a mute as ever; it seemed that no matter where he looked, nothing was the same. The world was exactly as it was before he finally met Tony Stark, and it seemed that his whole world would never be the same after.

The day before the dreaded show with Thor (Loki was genuinely considering causing himself to have food poisoning to avoid it), Loki settled heavily on his couch. The television was on, but mute, displaying some documentary about the fables surrounding King Arthur and the Holy Grail. Loki couldn't help but frown, knowing his mind would immediately drift to Stark, as it had been more and more lately during any moment of relapsed attention. After dreaming of the man nearly every night since his return, Loki hated his traitorous mind as his guilt continued to grow. His head had no problems supplying all the possible scenarios that could have played out had he stayed in New York.

Loki sighed and pushed himself away from the couch and headed for his kitchen. After the weeks of wasted coffee, Loki now settled on water. Everything else tasted like it anyway. As he moved back to the couch, his intercom buzzed. Loki frowned and looked down at his mobile, clutched loosely in his hand. He had not received a text or call from anyone for nearly days.

The hacker shuffled over to the door and cleared his throat before pushing the button below the speaker. "Yes?"

"My apologies, Mr. Laufey." Loki recognized the voice of the doorman to his building, Joseph. "There appears to be a package downstairs for you. It is requiring your signature specifically or I would handle it myself."

Loki's frown deepened. "Alright, I shall be down in a moment."

"Very good, sir."

Loki listened to the click of the intercom ending as his finger still sat on the button. He could only imagine the package to be from Thor - he always delivered his Christmas gifts that way, requiring Loki to personally sign for them. Loki slid on his slippers and pulled his keys from the rack by the door. After locking the door quickly, Loki headed down the hallway towards the elevator and paused only briefly. The ride was quiet and too familiar - Loki even stared down at his feet.

No matter where he went or what he did, Loki would be perpetually reminded of his last moments with Tony. Why, at the lowest of points, Loki couldn't even call him to apologize. Numbers had never been exchanged, the need never seen when the other was a simple elevator ride away. Just another thing Loki added to his list of regrets from that trip.

Loki stepped from the elevator and smiled pleasantly to Joseph, who tipped his hat in greeting as Loki crossed to the FedEx man holding a long rectangular box. Loki signed his name quickly on the digital scanner that was held out to him.

"Thanks so much!" The man said, his tag reading 'Carl', as he nodded to Loki and again to the doorman before leaving. Loki's smile turned awkward as he headed back to the elevator, hoping Joseph didn't notice his flustered attitude.

Once again in the elevator, Loki inspected the package. It wasn't marked with a return address at all, immediately raising red flags, but a soft shake didn't reveal anything life-threatening. He turned it over and over in his hands, touching every edge and corner. In conclusion, it was a simple white box with purple and orange lettering and a label addressed to him. Loki frown and folded it under his arm as the elevator doors opened to his floor.

Loki peered around the corner as he walked towards his flat, feeling slightly anxious. Like someone was watching him. He sped up just slightly and turned the key in the door, barely opening it more than a few inches before he slipped inside and bolted the locks behind him. Loki took a deep breath, entirely disturbed by his own behavior at what very well was only paranoia, to calm himself. After his hands stopped trembling he stepped out of his slippers and dropped back onto the couch, sighing.

The television had shifted to different programming in his absence, something about endangered animals, but Loki hardly paid it any mind. The box sat on his thighs, the label in the centre facing away from him. He wasn't sure how to proceed - it was unmarked for a reason, obviously, but what? What could possibly be inside?

After several more grueling minutes Loki finally gave in. Sitting and wondering was literally giving him a headache, which was absolutely not what he needed right then.

He grabbed the tab marked with a purple arrow and directions to pull. The sound of the cardboard tearing was oddly loud in his quiet space, but Loki did his best to not grimace. The strip of box was tossed onto his coffee table, glass and too similar to the one in Tony's flat. Loki ignored his attempted spiraling thoughts and focused on the box.

The lid flipped up easily as Loki tore along the perforated lines to expose the box's contents. Whatever it was was wrapped in red tissue paper; Loki swallowed and unfolded it quickly. Inside sat an emerald collared dress shirt made of the finest silk and beautiful golden pearl buttons. His fingers touched the cool fabric and pressed the collar, just stiff enough to remain firm.

Loki drew the shirt from the box and held it out, the wrinkles from its travel falling softly away. The cuffs and collar were embroidered with gold thread, a wonderful accent that was so subtle it left Loki hoping for more. As he turned the shirt around to inspect the back, something fluttered down to his feet.

The hacker looked over to see a card and set aside the shirt to reach for it. The back was blank, but as he turned the card over writing was revealed. In a very simple, slightly sloped scrawl was the word Tomorrow. Loki furrowed his brow and flipped the card over again, expecting perhaps magic to show another message. Obviously there was nothing, prompting Loki to check the front again. He sighed and set the card in the empty box and stared back at the shirt.

It could be from Thor; in fact, it very well could be from Odin. The thought made Loki roll his eyes to himself. He highly doubted his adoptive father would send him a gift, but Thor was still very likely. He drew the shirt over and fingered one of the gold buttons down the front. The pearlescent shimmer caught the light so subtly that Loki decided he wouldn't dare wear a tie to cover it up. Still though, who was the giver?

Whomever it was had had the shirt tailored specifically to fit him; Loki discovered that after pulling the shirt on a few minutes later. For that reason, he couldn't decide if he should be flattered or alarmed. He walked back into his living room in the shirt and took up the card again. The ink was simple and black, undoubtably written with a normal ballpoint pen. Still, Loki felt it important to save and put it on his kitchen counter as he moved to throw the box away.

Offhandedly, he decided to try another cup of coffee. This one didn't taste nearly as bad as the others had.


At five the next evening, Loki began to prepare. He took a longer than normal hot shower; he knew he would need to be completely relaxed before having to deal with Thor and Odin respectively. It literally drained all his energy and left behind a withered part of himself that snapped and scoffed. In hopes to avoid that, Loki took his time dressing and attempted to thoroughly distract himself.

Moments before he was ready to leave, a knock echoed from his front door. Curious, Loki merely stared from where he had been standing, holding the jacket of the suit he was going to wear. He pushed his glasses up his nose slightly and waited for a second knock. When it never came, he crossed over to the door and peered through the peephole.

Nothing as far as he could see down the hallway, and no one standing before him. Loki frowned - perhaps someone had knocked on his door as a mistake? He sighed and unbolted the lock to open the door.

There, directly before the threshold to his flat, sat a bouquet of red roses with a single sunflower nestled in the front. Loki felt his jaw slacken as he stooped to pick the flowers up. He stepped out to look further down the hall on both ends and saw no one.

"Hello?" He called, expecting and receiving no answer. Loki looked back down at the bouquet and turned it over in his hands, looking for any card or note from the sender. The action caught his watch and made him swear - he had intentionally been taking his time but never once actually checked.

Loki quickly ducked back into his flat and to the kitchen, where he drew down the vase he used for the sunflowers he grew and filled it with water. He carefully cut the stems of all the flowers down and added in the plant food wrapped in the silver paper holding the bouquet together.

Once the flowers were set, Loki pushed his arms into his suit jacket, scooped up his keys, wallet, and mobile, and headed down for the lobby at nearly half past seven. He would figure out whoever left the flowers after the show.


Thor was as eager to see Loki as he had been when he invited him, drawing him right over in the lobby of the theatre to where Odin and a brunette woman in a red gown sat. Her name was Jane, a traveling scientist that happened to be studying in London for a year. They met by chance at a nearby park as Thor walked his dog Volstagg, and simply became inseparable. Jane was lovely and kind and quite smart, which Loki found complimentary to Thor's often slow wit; he genuinely congratulated Thor on his luck, keen to ignore the heavy gaze he felt from Odin. No doubt Odin had seen the tabloids as well, but seemed to doubt his press release about its truth.

Luckily, Loki didn't have to avoid the obvious for long. A call over the intercom announced the beginning of the play. Thor immediately looped an arm around Loki and Jane and set off for their private box with Odin pulling up the rear. They were seeing Hamlet, one of Frigga's favourite plays. It was bittersweet for Loki, having been the one to recite it for her, but he hoped for a better night than the ones he had been having.

Thor offered for Odin to take the seat with the best view, closer to the wall. Jane sat beside him, then Thor, and finally Loki on the end. Their box held eight seats, leaving the entire row behind them empty. Their usher bid them farewell and noted he would be just outside the door should refreshments be required. Within a few minutes, the lights were dimmed and the curtains raised.

Loki humoured Thor as he muttered things to him as one would during a film. They had all seen this play countless times, save perhaps Jane, but Thor always sat beside him and always commented. It was something Loki never admitted to enjoying, but for those moments, they were as they had been as children.

As the play wore on, Loki felt himself drifting off. Thor's muted rumbling continued as he muttered to Jane as well, dotting the box with her muffled giggles. They really were well together, and Loki didn't doubt that he would soon receive a wedding invitation. Even with the play and his brother's company, Loki couldn't help but feel restless. On the entire ride over in the cab, he couldn't help but think about the flowers on his doorstep. Now was no different. He was no closer to figuring out the sender than he had been earlier, and now he found his attentions drifting so far from the play that he was actually lost. He sighed and leaned to Thor.

"I shall be back," he muttered before he rose. Thor turned and nodded, his eyes a shiny blue in the low lighting. Odin watched Loki stand before turned back to the play. Loki wasn't surprised - they had hardly said hello during the evening, he doubted now Odin would suddenly show fatherly concern.

Loki asked the usher where the restroom was and set off at a sedated pace, his hands in his trouser pockets. The carpet was a plush red and thick beneath his shoes, muting all sounds of his movement except the soft whisper of his suit.

He found the washroom in only a few minutes and dismissed the orderly, asking for privacy. Loki took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, splashing cold water on his face. He wiped it away with a towel from the orderly's station, staring at his reflection numbly.

Frankly, he looked horrible. For the first time he left his flat in almost a week, it was easily written on his face. He was paler than usual, and with his hair braided loosely and pulled over his shoulder and the bags under his eyes, Loki looked slightly gaunt. He wore the emerald silk shirt with the collar unbuttoned beneath a simple black suit, hardly any frills against his usual attire to a show. He had even forgotten his overcoat in his haste to leave, and London was definitely cold in the middle of October.

The cold sounded quite refreshing, actually. He put the towel back and dropped a generous tip in the orderly's jar, heading out and back down the path to his box. He remembered a roped off hallway with an obvious balcony at the end that would do just fine.

Loki looked around himself carefully before slipping under the red velvet rope. The sign in the centre said DO NOT ENTER, but Loki was far from caring. He was glad the door to the balcony wasn't locked, and within seconds he was leaning against the railing and staring out across the London skyline.

His breath rose in soft white puffs as he stared out, eyes lingering on nothing for more than a scarce second. Loki watched the lights of nightlife flicker and twirl, trailed the bright lights that followed the path of the river Thames, blinked at the slowly revolving Ferris wheel that hugged the coast, and settled finally on the largest clock tower in all of history. With his glasses, Loki could just make out the clock face of Big Ben, bright and yellow against the dark sky. The thick black lines of its hour and minute hand marked nine in the evening. He wasn't at all surprised by the passage of time, too drawn in on himself to think to check his watch and too cultured to withdrawal his mobile to check during the show.

Intermission would begin in half an hour, surely after Hamlet had slain Polonius and was off to England, but Loki truly couldn't say. He was too distracted then, and even worse off now. He had hoped that fresh air and the night sky would lull him to some sense of comfort, but now he could only sigh. When he blinked, the skyline faded to that of New York, and despite the chill he felt, he was standing in Tony Stark's flat that first fateful day, comparing New York to London. Now, weeks later, he was doing the exact same in reverse. Loki had wanted to be home then, staring out at foreign buildings in bittersweet tones, whereas now, he wasn't exactly sure what home was.

Surely it wasn't that empty flat across the city, with the only colour found in a secretly gifted bouquet. But could it be in the arms of a madman, just as well?

Loki tightened his grip on the stone railing, reigning in his thoughts. He knew he wasn't alone, but was shamed to know he hadn't heard the balcony door open in his distraction. He would just tell the orderly or usher the truth - he needed some air and this balcony was perfect. Loki began to turn, his answer on the tip of his tongue - it died as quickly as he concocted it, because there was no member of staff standing behind him.

Instead, it was Tony Stark, looking exactly as Loki had left him weeks ago. Hair artfully styled in that wild way of his (still soft to the touch), wearing a dark pinstriped suit and hot rod red shirt with a gold tie (his creation, his personality), and with one hand tucked in his trouser pocket while the other hung loosely by his side. He clutched a long stemmed red rose that looked quite familiar. Loki swallowed thickly and gripped the railing just a fraction tighter.

"Hey," Stark said quietly. He smiled quickly, uneasily, and shifted his weight from one foot to the next. Loki felt his stomach flip.

"Hello," Loki answered. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears, but he ignored it. He wanted to ask why, after so long did he attempt to contact him, but he didn't. Obviously the other genius was there for a reason, and the kindness in Loki wanted to at least hear him out.

"I, ah," Stark began, then cleared his throat. Loki watched his breath rise in a white cloud a few inches over his head before disappearing. "I wanted to give you this, in person, before I left." He held out the rose he held in his left hand. Loki very roughly fought down the urge to rush over and take it.

Stark didn't seem perturbed when he didn't, instead continuing to hold the rose out as an invitation. "I've been doing some SI work here in London for the last few days, and this is my last night before I fly back to New York. I know you said you didn't want to see me, but I've never been very good at taking orders."

Loki couldn't help the smirk that lighted his lips. "Why would you spend your last night here, then?"

"Honestly?" Stark asked, a small smile working onto his face. He appeared sheepish, and if the lighting was better Loki would even go so far as to say he was flushed. "I wanted to see you. I remember Hamlet was your mother's favourite, so on the off-chance you'd be here - "

"You knew I would be," Loki said softly. Stark bit his bottom lip and shifted his weight again. "You knew where I would be, did you not?"

Stark scratched the back of his head with the hand holding the rose. "Yeah, I did."

"How did you find me?" Loki asked, curiously. He was always fascinated by Tony Stark's methods, and now was no exception.

"I rented the box across from yours," he answered quietly. "I have it to myself, the entire thing. If you asked me what the play was about, all I could tell you was the title. But I could tell you that your brother thinks so highly of you, and that you enjoy him muttering to you during the entire thing despite the distraction it is. I could tell you that the girl he's with will most likely be your sister-in-law in a few months - they've been together for awhile now, and all he needed was your opinion because he only ever wants you to feel welcome. Oh, and that old man? He hates himself for alienating you your whole life, but he doesn't know how to say it in so many words."

Loki felt his hands begin to tremble. He was across from them, sure, but how on earth could he know all these things? No doubt this was Tony's genius at work, per usual. It was disturbingly accurate, but Loki couldn't help but ask: "How do you know?"

Tony quietly reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out what was easily simple glasses, but Loki knew better. "I call them Short Sighted; a prototype, the first one, but the lenses are augmented with code that is turned on with a simple press of a small button built into the arm and disguised as a screw. It allows the user to see across far distances, adjustable by using the companion application available only to the Stark App Store, exclusive to models of Mach VII and beyond." He paused. "Tonight was the first test."

"And instead of using it practically, you decided to spy on me and my family?" Loki asked, surprising himself with the calmness in his voice and by taking ownership of the people still seated in his box. Tony filed the glasses back against his chest and smiled sadly.

"Yeah, and I'm not ashamed. I couldn't come all the way here and not see you," he said. Loki swallowed. "I'm glad you wore the shirt I ordered."

Loki blinked and brought a hand quickly to his collar. He should have known, dammit. It was tailored, made of the finest material, and in his favourite colours, too. Who else could it have been? He wanted to be bothered, but as he had before, standing in Tony's workshop, he could only be flattered. Tony went so far out of his way for him, at every turn, and how had Loki repaid him?

By leaving him standing, alone, in his workshop as Loki fled the country.

"It fits well," Loki said, straining to keep his voice neutral. He watched as Tony perked up, his eyes widening slightly at Loki's answer. If he were honest, he was surprised by his answer too. "Thank you."

Tony's smile was breathtaking; Loki was glad to still be leaning slightly on the railing, because he certainly felt his knees grow weak. "You're welcome. I'm just glad you didn't trash it."

Loki rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Hardly."

Tony grinned and chuckled; there was a slight sadness there, towards the end. "Yeah well, you can't blame me."

Loki's smirk fell, and he remembered all the side-effects of his lackluster life since he had left New York. He regretted ever second of it. "I - "

Tony's mobile cut Loki off, ringing loudly in the still air between them. Tony looked sheepish and fished around his pocket for a moment, pulling the sleek silver device out. He stared down briefly and sighed before silencing it and dropping it back into his pocket. "Pepper," he said for answer.

"How is she?" Loki asked, needing the distraction and genuinely interested.

"Well," he answered quickly with a small cough. "She's, ah, taking care of a lot more than usual." Loki knew Tony meant himself, she's taking care of him. God, what state of mind had Loki left him in? He seemed himself, sure, but there was a slight tension to his posture and a depth to his gaze that wasn't there before. Loki swallowed.

"Tony, I - "

Tony's mobile rang again, making the genius sigh. "Pepper again. She's being insistent, so I guess that's my cue to go." He twirled the rose between his thumb and forefinger for a moment, as if debating on what to say. "This is the last part of the bouquet I left for you. You're short a rose," he began, stooping to lay it against the marble floor a few inches from his feet. "If I had my way, you'd never be again."

Loki watched, transfixed, as Tony rose to his full height again and met his gaze. He looked so incredibly sad and Loki had no clue where to begin. "So this is goodbye, for real. I didn't want to say it before, but now I guess this is it."

Loki opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. What could he say?

Tony's smile turned melancholy again as he nodded. "Take care." The genius turned back towards the balcony door. Loki felt grounded, watching the world slide away from him again. Could he go back to that world, where colour wasn't vibrant and taste was a dream, where sleep wasn't fulfilling and all his waking thoughts were of the man walking away from him now, not in reverse? Could he? Would he?

Tony opened the door.

No.

No, he wouldn't.

Loki rushed forward, crossing the balcony in long strides and careful of the rose. He pressed his palm against the door and pushed it shut. Tony grew very still as Loki dropped his forehead to his shoulder. "No," he muttered, his voice muffled by the fabric of his expensive suit.

"No, what?" Tony breathed. His breath ghosted over the glass of the balcony door, fogging it slightly. Loki brought his other hand up and pressed it against the glass over the doorknob. He was just far enough from Tony that their only point of connection was his forehead on his shoulder, but he could absolutely feel the other's body heat.

"Don't go," Loki answered quietly. Tony took a deep, shuttering breath. "I...I can't go back."

Tony tilted his face towards Loki, his goatee grazing Loki's hair. "Go back where?"

"To not seeing you," Loki answered. He felt his heart thump wildly as Tony's breathing sped up. "My life is nothing like it used to be. Nothing is the same after I left, and I'm sick of it. I-I miss you. Please. Can I - would you - "

Loki suddenly pitched forward, losing his balance. Tony caught him with two hands on his shoulders, smiling down at him. Loki blinked, taking the second he needed to realize that Tony had turned around and was now completely backed against the balcony door. Loki didn't mind taking the extra step forward to press himself fully against Tony and fix his posture. Now it was his turn to smile, albeit nervously. "Well?"

"If you're asking if you can come back," Tony said, pausing. Loki knew his heart was beating erratically as he waited. "That's a definite yes."

Loki let out the breath he didn't realize he held. "There is one condition," Tony continued.

Loki nodded slightly. "Anything."

Tony's gaze dropped to first his lips then lower, to his collar. Loki felt the genius bring a hand up to finger his collar then his braid, pulled over his shoulder. He felt Tony pull loose the gold ribbon he had tied it back with, his hair falling free of its own accord. Tony wrapped the ribbon around his fingers and trailed his knuckles along the column of his throat, grazing his thumb along his jaw.

"Wear this braid more," Tony answered, his voice low and gravely. "I love it." Loki smirked and laughed slightly.

"Is that all?" He asked, almost regretting when Tony turned thoughtful.

"Move to the Tower," Tony said after a moment. "You can have that whole floor again, if you'd like, but I want you there. I need you. As much as I like flying, I'm not doing this long distance."

Loki practically purred when Tony drug his fingers through his hair. "That can be arranged, but I have a request of my own."

"Whatever you want," Tony answered, leaning forward to press his nose against Loki's neck and breathing in. "I'll give you the world."

Loki tilted his head slightly to give Tony more access. "If you fuck this up, I'll throw you through a window."

Tony straightened up quickly, his eyes blazing in a mischievous daring that nearly made Loki jealous. "Done deal."

Loki decided he was better off not asking about what that expression meant. Instead, he pressed his lips softly to Tony's and sighed when he kissed back. His entire world slid back into focus as a warmth spread through his body he didn't realize he was missing. He supposed it had always been there, but was something only Tony Stark had a key to. He sighed again when he felt Tony's ribbon wrapped fingers slid beneath his collar and touch his clavicle. He shuttered when Tony's hand gripped the base of his skull tighter to keep him from moving.

This was what he needed, what he wanted. He should have known better than to leave weeks ago, but he was allowed foolishness at some points in his life. Just as long as he was forgiven, and it seemed Tony was more than willing.

"I love you," Tony sighed, breaking for a short breath. Loki opened his eyes, not at all surprised to see such vibrancy in the man's expression. He knew, had always known, even before being told the first and second time. Loki wrapped both his arms around Tony's waist and held him impossibly closer.

"And I love you," Loki answered. Tony surged forward for another kiss that Loki was happy to give.

Explaining to Thor, Jane, and Odin how he ended up in the box across from them after intermission wasn't the grueling task Loki had assumed it would be. Thor had simply found them after the show and clapped a hand to Tony's shoulder. Odin's gaze lingered on Loki's freed braid and the ribbon still obviously wrapped around Tony's fingers as the two shook hands. Jane, however, beamed at Loki and was delighted to smell the final rose to match the eleven back at his flat, cooing quietly to him about how she wished Thor would take a page out of Tony Stark's book. He decided to not comment and merely smiled instead.

Had they not been accepting, Loki doubted he would have cared. He was happy again for the first time in weeks, regardless of what he knew about Tony. In their time apart he had come to terms with it, and now standing in Tony's lab as he watched the genius modify several components to the Iron Man armour, Loki decided that it suited him. Tony Stark wasn't who he was without Iron Man, and now Loki wasn't who he was without Tony Stark. The were two parts to the same coin, and Loki loved him even more for it.

As he walked over with both coffee mugs in hand and passed one to Tony, he reveled in his blazing smile and watched him drink from the mug without using the handle. Loki knew he was right where he needed to be, trapped willingly in the world Tony had created for them.

And he loved every second of it.


- END -


A/N: Please share your thoughts! i hope you enjoyed. :)