"Jarvis. Pull up Mark 41." Complying, suits behind a glass case shuffle up and down. Tony had the early models always on display, behind concealing the newer, better ones from prying eyes.

Forty-one comes up, the glass slides down, the suit rolls forth, stops three feet.

It's all black. Thin plates of armor covered machine-like entrails that were framed in streaks of gold. The shoulder-plates protruded, the reactor encircled in gold, the mask was slim with sharp bones, and above those narrow glowing eyes were obtrusive long lines, like horns.

"You said 40 was too heavy," Tony said as Loki approached it. "It's a heavy-duty suit. Built to withstand the thrust-back when traveling at excess velocity. However, Mark 41's far more lightweight. Better flexibility and maneuver." Slim fingers traced the smooth, cool curves and lines, admiring. "You actually inspired the design." Greens locked on browns at that surprised.

"Did I?" Tony smirked.

"You can't tell?"

{…Well,

actually…}

"I would've added green, but that would've been too obvious."

Oh and Loki sees it then.

"I very much intend to now," Tony with a grin added, neared him next. "After we come back. You take it for a spin, tell me how it feels. You like it it's yours," he said quite nonchalantly, but the insinuation Loki did not skip.

Tony was trusting him enough – enough as he did Rhodes, who as Loki had past learned had stolen what was later named: 'War Machine' – to give him one, likely more, without Loki needing ever to ask. "Plus we can work off what you do and don't fancy. Come on."

XXX

Days prior, when they'd first shared the bed of his room Tony'd showed him same night in the lab to a lift concealed behind a false wall. Six unlabeled buttons were within the small square metal space, and a number panel with a finger scanner. So he could just as well moving forward use it Tony scanned Loki's prints and explained it connected to all floors, had programmed hotkeys to four. The upper lounge, the lab, his bedroom, and the garage. 'Makes it easier to sneak around,' he'd winked at Loki coyly and Loki'd smirked, overlooked not as well the fact that Tony would with him share this and of it allow him usage, as he doubted the others did let alone knew.

In addition – though neither Loki nor anyone was of this aware – when Loki had to him explained precisely how he'd pertained Mark 40 and Tony had too revised the footage, not long after he'd rewritten the security system to perceive Loki as an ally. Though he'd be notified still, Loki could come and go from the lab or the tower without any obstruction.

With that, and to avoid confrontation with the others, they used the second lift to make to the 92nd floor, climbed up to the roof, and were off.

XXX

Together they worked and well, side-to-side fighting as though they were used to. Tony moved and Loki followed. Loki stepped and Tony stepped next. Witty come backs and final words at the crooks they traded.

Cameras flashed and people talked but they didn't stand, into the night shot for prey hunting.

An hour, two, three, New York to Maine to Ohio, and then back, enthused enough that to the tower they were racing, landed masks off they were laughing and Tony talked and talked highlighting certain moments and Loki grinned, heart still racing.

He was exhilarated, from the action the movement, to defeat and empower,

and watch people smile, their eyes gleam grateful,

and he'd feel something,

something sickeningly good…

He hasn't felt it in a while.

And he doesn't miss it, or doesn't want to; won't on it think or think why.

He enjoyed crushing bones, breaking limps, blowing holes. He enjoyed syncing his and Tony's moves, watching him in action, liked the way blue light hit brown eyes in that image reflection in the HUD of him, the air of humor he maintained through every fight and quarrel.

He had fun,

and Tony noticed,

and did not disclose this.

He'll not spoil the mood with talk of purpose…

But this was all he'd hoped through this – the team, the mission – to give him.

Through the second lift they made back to the lab, discreet as they were, delaying the inevitable discovery of their adventures because no sooner this would all be on the news. Likely too it'd start up another quarrel with the team, maybe Nick, etc.

They didn't care quite at the moment.

Tony'd started fervid speech on Loki's suit, asking questions and Loki more eager than he thought he'd be answered. They talked, drank, worked designs as holographic projections on the incomplete prototype, weighed options, listed weaponry, rate of armor, manner of flight, the length of the horns on the helmet that was quite a debate.

Two hours later. They'd left around midnight, now the sun was not just rising it was already up.

Tony yawned for the third time in twenty minutes. Loki rolled his eyes. "Tony. Tony," he pulled over his chair, from the keyboard away.

"What, what?" Tony protested, fingers itching for the keys.

"Sleep. You need sleep," Loki said, rolling him so they're face to face. Tony shook his head.

"No, no." Smiling Loki nodded his, cupping Tony's face stressing playful as he brushed their noses:

"Yes, yes." Tony moaned and pouted, miffed with how effortlessly he was willing to give in and chuckling Loki could tell. Softly then at his lover who was smirking he smiled, caressed his cheek as Tony tilted his head and inched closer. To his lips that were nearing Loki whispered: "Come, my sweet. We'll pick it up tomorrow." Tony at the tender tone smiled, nodded with a quiet:

"K." Contended Loki pecked him on the lips and led them upstairs.