Some hours more in the lab together spent before by the hand up to bed Tony had led him. They were tired and on each to the other it was obvious. Hold out like they normally would but it's the thought: in bed, together. Worn as they were on the way a few sly words left them naked, shifting between the sheets a surge of power enough to play one last little game before to sleep they'd succumb entirely, unprotesting, because they were together and it was enough, to promise not no pain but a solid warmth in the aftermath.
Drained they lay bare in each other's arms, a blissful silence flows through the room that was dark save for the subtle glow of Tony's chest, the bathroom left closed – Loki hadn't bothered. He needn't no other source of light, none would ever prove better than that of the heart that beat beneath his ear.
A slow, slim finger traced the rim of the reactor, digits move sometimes and caress the lines of scars between flesh and metal, gently, delicately – it's…
It's different.
No one was ever allowed to touch it, around, or even near it. Bed partners of the past were asked so sternly, left in a bed for guests not minutes following meaningless sex as Tony made then for his room, away from them and most people really. So solitary he'd grown after his…return.
Then there was Pepper [and we all know how that went.] She would never touch it, and her eyes when they laid upon it she'd frown like it upset her more than it did him really just what it stood for, all that he'd gone through – she wouldn't touch it, afraid almost to hurt it, him.
But Loki.
Loki touched it, kissed it, drew his tongue across those scars in the heat of their love tenderly, intimately – it drove Tony mad, how he feels when pearls of black rimmed in green met his eyes, lips that kissed him deeply and his heart just aches in a way that makes him wish he'd never stop.
…Were it in Loki's power those scars he would heal, were he at his fullest capacity he'd risk addressing those shards like parasites that dare and threaten that heart, purge them out, discard the arc, heal those scars, make him whole for the past that had rooted in his chest to become but a dream with time forgotten…
…
…He knows not at times how desperate Tony was
to be rid of it…
When he'd first met Bruce the doctor's focus stood solely on finding the Tesseract, as opposed to the fight to come. He wanted not to get involved…
…to change. 'I don't get a suit of armor. I'm exposed…Like a nerve…It's a nightmare.' In response Tony had pointed to his chest and said:
'I've got a cluster of shrapnel trying every second to crawl its way into my heart. This stops it. This little circle of light, it's part of me now.'
But he hadn't asked for it.
And he hadn't said so – perhaps it didn't need to be said…
…
…No one knew truly, just how fiercely
he hated it,
heatedly.
How many times he'd contemplated clawing it off, how many times he thought to have it and the shrapnel removed surgically. And though such a procedure would've killed him more likely…there was a time he wasn't much against this…
…there was a very dark time he'd prayed it would.
…But no. Not this way, not under a knife, cut open again – red.
No.
Sedated even that he wouldn't feel nor see, he'd kill before letting anyone drag him into an O.R.
…
And so…for better or worse, he and the reactor were stuck with one another.
Yet this subdued not his resent…
He hasn't a clue how well if Loki knew he would understand this, just how precisely he could relate.
These things in each other that they cannot change for one another they can all but express how what to others is a flaw, a scar, a mark, an anomaly to them was nothing but an indication of survival, a medal they want each other to wear proudly – never from others feel ashamed, never from each other.