Reality washed over Tony, a lot gentler than he had become used to over the last few weeks. It was a refreshing change to awake to noon sunlight rather than an alarm clock flashing the early hours of a morning. The fragments of the dream lingered on his mind as he reluctantly opened his eyes. And they were annoyingly worrying.
It seemed Loki was not quite the being of mayhem and destruction that he remembered. Just as irritating as his realisation that he was not as reluctant to revisit his dreams as he had told himself, was the new found tang of concern he felt at seeing a man who had been so powerful and dangerous looking so much akin to someone on the brink of breaking. But he buried it quickly.
With a snort, Tony kicked the covers away and got up and dressed with a mind to find Thor. He couldn't help but be curious as to what had Loki, God of City Demolition, looking like he should barely be able to stay on his feet. And Thor would probably be the only one who could give him the answers he was looking for.
Thor was in Tony's kitchen, clutching a box of frosted flakes and lifting handfuls at a time into his mouth, apparently quite enjoying a newfound 'midgardian delicacy'. He seemed to find himself a new one with every visit. Tony greeted him with a tight smile, not even surprised that he'd managed to get into his penthouse and begin eating his food. JARVIS would have something to answer for once he found himself some time to pull computer system apart.
"Good morning, Man of Iron," Thor hailed with his traditional greeting as Tony came into the room, thankfully swallowing his mouthful before speaking. "How did you sleep?"
"Better," Tony replied, moving around Thor to try to get to his coffee machine, trying to maintain an air of casual normalcy. He wasn't doing a brilliant job, eyes down cast, words muttered, but luckily Thor was never one for noticing the little things.
"I am glad to hear it," Thor nodded to himself, satisfied. "I had feared that perhaps my methods had not worked for you."
"Yeah, well worry no more, big fella," Tony told him, watching as black coffee filled his cup, wondering how exactly he was supposed to phrase his question in a way that hid that note of apprehension. "Full control upstairs."
Thor nodded again, gaze to the floor, not as joyful as Tony had assumed he would have been. The reason became clear with his next question. "How is he?" he asked, tentatively, as though it was a question he feared the answer of.
Tony blinked and glanced at him before reaching out to take his coffee from the machine. Thor's concern for Loki had caught him more off guard than it should have done. Of course he was going to care, Thor still thought of Loki as his brother after all.
"How is he?" he echoed, frowning, finding himself delaying his own true evaluation for as long as possible. "How should I know, he's still in Narnia."
"Narnia?"
Tony rolled his eyes. "Asgard."
"Physically, yes," Thor told him, laying the frosted flakes box to one side, his appetite apparently having left him. "However, Loki became lost to us not long after our return. Like I told you, the force of the punishment he was facing pushed him to withdraw into his mind and take solace in whatever realms he finds there. His body continues to endure, living and breathing, but he does not speak nor move nor acknowledge that anything around him is there. It is as though he were sleeping, but there is nothing we can do to wake him."
The note of concern Tony had was not abated by the thought of Loki lying in a coma in a dungeon somewhere. He took a sip of his coffee, leaning on the counter opposite Thor, gaze also downcast, before sniffing, forcing any thoughts of sympathy to one side. The guy had tried to take over the world for Christ's sake, he reminded himself loudly. "Yeah, well, can't do the time, don't do the crime, that's what I say," he muttered half-heartedly into his mug.
"He does deserve to pay dearly for what he has done," Thor agreed. "Perhaps this is a sentiment I alone harbour but I wish that I would be able to contact him. I would like to ensure he is not fading entirely."
Tony watched Thor's sullen expression. "Well he's certainly not doing that," he assured him, flashing back the power with which Loki had handled him before he had regained control.
At that Thor lifted his head with a hesitant smile, "That is good to hear."
Tony's day had only gone downhill from there.
It had all kicked off with a call from Pepper, something he had not expected since their near apocalyptic argument not long after the whole Loki fiasco started. There was only so much she could cope with apparently, storming out and quitting in a fashion that had made it quite clear she wasn't for returning.
The call was an awkward request for a reference for a new job. Tony had agreed, reluctantly, and only after Steve had walked in on the conversation and agreed for him.
Almost as soon as he had slammed the phone down, he slunk away into one of the lower labs, ignoring the calls of Steve and whoever else happened to cross his path and began to take out his frustration with the use of volatile and explosive chemical mixtures. This, coupled with the stress of everything else that seemed to be piling up, lead to a slight miscalculation and the destruction of one the more expensive pieces of equipment, as well as the loss of one eyebrow. Said explosion resulted in a stern scolding from Steve as well as a sad, accepting sigh from Bruce who had apparently planned to use that machinery for his research.
Tony wasn't sure which was worse.
After that the company joined him for the rest of the day. They did not trust him enough to leave him alone again. Both Steve and Bruce (who apparently had been fully updated on his recent sleep troubles) hounded him for the next hour as Tony patched up the few minor burns he had sustained, wanting to know how he was, every gruesome detail they could eek out of him.
Tony told them over and over again that he was coping and that he didn't need their mothering. He, of course, left out the parts about how he wasn't feeling nearly as bad about the nocturnal visits as the two on his back made him feel like he should. He wouldn't be able to tell anyone that. Tolerating dreams involving a crazed Asgardian alien wasn't going to be met well. Enjoying them was barely something he was going to admit to himself, let alone anyone else.
Once Tony had finally gotten rid of his new substitute parents through the use of thinly veiled threats, he officially locked down his penthouse, deciding it was probably the only way to get any form of privacy. The rest of the evening was spent surrounding himself with music loud enough to drown out the sound of his phone and probably cause some significant damage to his hearing, and the rest of that bottle of brandy he'd started the day before.
It was a bed this time. The same one Tony had collapsed, probably drunkenly, into what felt like moments before. Loki was straddling him, gazing down in the low light, leaning on his hands that were pressed into the pillows on either side of Tony's head. Both were naked from the waist up. Loki's torso was slim and defined, resembling a lithe marathon runner, betraying none of the strength he had demonstrated both in the dream world and reality. Just by looking at him, you wouldn't know that he could throw a full grown man out of a window.
"You've been drinking," Loki told him after a moment, a playful smirk on his face. "You're thoughts are even more out of control than usual."
Tony glowered and shifted under Loki's weight. "Stay out of my thoughts!" he hissed.
"Why would I do that when I like what I find?" he ran his tongue across his bottom lip and held it gently between his teeth, regarding Tony hungrily. "You have some dark fantasies in you."
"Get the hell off me!" Tony yelled.
Loki gazed intently at his captive, unaffected by Tony's anger. After a moment he seemed to come to some sort of conclusion. "You're stressed," he said, conversationally, running a hand down Tony's torso, gaze following it.
Tony struggled futilely. "Can't say you're helping," he grunted, settling for glowering fiercely up at him since his attempts at escape weren't going to work.
Loki gave a knowing grin. Tony couldn't decide whether it was his imagination or not but he seemed even more exhausted than the previous evening. But he decided he didn't care. He wanted out.
With a force of will, Tony closed his eyes and began to assert his reality. To wrench control from Loki like he had before.
"Oh Tony, must you?" Loki asked with the tone of an exasperated parent, before lowering his head to whisper. "I have only ever offered what you dare not ask for, my pet."
At that Tony snapped his eyes open as his frustration snapped his concentration. "I am not your pet," he spat, venomously, head lifting off the bed a little with the force of his words.
But Loki was entirely unfazed, he simply tilted his head thoughtfully. Suddenly, in the illogical fluidity only possible in dreams, their places were switched. Tony was looking down over the topless god.
Loki smirked as he reached up and stroked a thumb across the bald patch where Tony was now missing an eyebrow. "You would rather I was yours?"
Tony blinked in surprise. This was a first. Since these dreams had begun, Loki had always been dominant, controlling him using his strength and silver tongue for more than words. But not this time. Tony could get up and walk away if he wanted to. Just leave, end the dreams obvious direction like he had been telling himself he wanted to all this time. Up until now, Tony had told himself that this was not what he wanted, that he wanted them to end, for Loki to leave him the hell alone so he could get his head back to himself.
But now that the choice was his, he found himself not wanting to turn away.
Loki was beneath him. Surprisingly soft hands drifted across his arms and sides, his lidded green eyes were ticking over his bare torso, respectfully but with desire. There was a soft voice in the back of his mind that was whispering suspicions into his mind, but it was brushed aside before it was even acknowledged. It sent his heart racing. There was no denying how he really felt now.
"This is your mind, Tony," Loki whispered softly, propping himself up on one elbow, bringing their faces closer, close enough for Tony to feel his warm breath on his jaw. "There is no one here to pretend for."
Tony hadn't moved his head away as he felt he should have, gaze ticking down to Loki's partially parted lips. Any thought of Thor's instruction was gone, there was no need for it now. Loki had given up his control and Tony was free to do whatever he wanted. No nagging voices or embodied conscience in a tight blue leotard to try to tell him what to do.
If he could not have what he wanted in his dreams, then what had his life become?
Loki's grin grew; just as in tune Tony's thought process as he was.
"You killed hundreds of people," Tony murmured quietly, his conscience's continued, vain bid. He was already closing the gap between them.
"You tried to kill me many a time," Loki returned, easily.
"You started it."
Loki just smiled that transfixing smile and slid a hand around the back of Tony's neck, gently easing him closer. "That was just a bit of fun."
Tony hummed, allowing Loki's hand to guide him. "For the record, not much fun."
Loki licked his lips but didn't get a chance to reply as Tony kissed him eagerly, pressing him back down onto the bed, relishing the taste of his tongue, the rush of his skin against his own, the coarseness of this hair as he threaded his hands through it, tugging roughly.
Admitting to himself he enjoyed his dreams was an excellent idea, was the last coherent thought that crossed his mind before thinking became entirely unnecessary.
