This is a sequel to Heartbeat (and I just decided that more will follow). It's not actually a story, but more a series of loosely connected one-shots... Have fun with a lazy morning-Loki!
Loki was absent-mindedly shovelling sugar into his coffee cup. It was a habit of him; he would always put in sugar and milk before the coffee. Mainly because Stark – no, Tony – was annoyed by it and also because he could. Still dazed from sleep, his movements were sluggish and more a reflex than actually conscious.
"Hey, Lokes", Tony piped up and startled the god out of his thoughts. When he had his attention, he waved vaguely in the direction of the cup. "Are you, you know, going to put some coffee into your sugar?" Loki looked at his mug just as he emptied another spoonful of white crystals into it. It was half-full with sugar already. For a few seconds, he plainly stared at it and wondered where all of that sweet stuff came from. "Loki, are you with me?"
"Yes, um, of course", he muttered. "I am. Coffee."
"You're coffee?", Tony repeated while picking up the pot.
"Yes. No." The god sighed. "Shut up." He grabbed the milk and poured some into his mug. It made a strange, thick white liquid mixed with the sugar. He was just glad Tony wasn't able to read his thoughts, because otherwise he'd definitely comment on that now if he could.
"You're no morning person, are you?", the engineer asked, grinning, while he poured the hot liquid onto the mush of sugar and milk.
"And it took you more than half a year to figure that out?", Loki grumbled. He lifted his mug and caught the mortal squinting at it. He sighed and closed his eyes – he knew the man good enough to know what was following.
"Ugh. Are you going to drink that? I mean, yuck, is that even still a liquid? I don't think that much sugar can even dissolve in coffee."
"There's milk in it, too", the god pointed out tiredly.
"As if that'd make a difference. I think you're gonna poison yourself. Or you'll get a sugar shock and hop around my tower squealing and giggling", Tony continued, causing Loki to groan.
"Do you ever shut up?", he asked, taking a sip of the not-quite-liquid in his mug. He did his best not to grimace at the disgustingly sweet taste.
"How can you drink that?", Tony asked, now close to a whine. "I want to puke just from looking at you." Loki took another sip, just because he could. "Are you a masochist or something? I honestly can't find another explanation. God, I can't even look at that."
"Well, I like it", Loki responded, even if it was a blatant lie. "Are you sure you do not want to try?"
"Yep, I am. Never been so sure of something in my whole life", the mortal replied immediately. "I'm not enduring this any longer, I'm down in the workshop. Bye!"
As soon as he was out of the door, Loki stood up and emptied the contents of his mug into the sink.
After breakfast (which included a mug of perfectly normally sweetened coffee) Loki decided to join Tony in his workshop. Even after all the months he had spent on Midgard, the mortal kept finding things for him to learn. Much of Midgard's science contained simple principles of magic, although they didn't realize it themselves.
He descended the stairs to the workshop and was about to knock when he caught a glimpse of its insides. Frowning, he moved closer to the glass. He saw the engineer, sitting with his back to the entrance and looking at some pictures.
Pictures of Loki. He saw some that were clearly taken during the invasion – one of him in the cell on the helicarrier, another where he was strapped to a seat in the quinjet, and then there was one of him in a suit in the hall in Stuttgart that Tony zoomed in on until he had a close-up of Loki's face. But there were newer ones, too; images from his time with the Avengers. The god spotted one that was clearly taken just that morning, with him blinking tiredly down into his mug while holding a spoon with sugar piled on top of it, and then there was one of him in his Jotun skin, clad only in a robe. It was from the day when the engineer had first seen this form of him – only about a month ago. Cold, gut-twisting anger flared up in Loki.
Without bothering to knock, he teleported inside so he stood right behind the mortal and hissed: "Care to explain what you are doing here, Stark?"
The mortal let out a startled yelp and spun around in his chair, nearly knocking it over. Seeing Loki, he exhaled and sighed: "Jeez, don't sneak up on me like that, you scared the shit out of me, Lokes. I –" He glanced at the holographic screens and paled. "This is not what you think it is", he assured hastily. Loki's gaze stayed cold and calculating as he stared down at the engineer who waved his hands around nervously. "Whatever you think it is. But it's not this, really. This just looks terribly wrong, doesn't it? Really, I – it's just a research –"
"A research", Loki repeated. "Oh, pray tell then, what did you research on?"
Stark took a deep, calming breath and regained some of his composure. He had the actual audacity to look accusing when he crossed his arms in front of his chest and demanded: "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Tell you what?", the god snapped.
In response, the engineer turned around and waved most of the pictures away, leaving only the one from Stuttgart and the other with Loki and his coffee. Then, he pulled up a new one – of Barton, slightly out of focus, on the helicarrier. He zoomed in on all of them and then pointed at the archer: "There, see? Blue eyes." Then he enlarged the picture of the god in the suit and remarked: "And here, also blue. The exact same colour. But here", he made a gesture towards the most recent one, "bright green." He turned again to look at the prince. "I should have noticed earlier, but I didn't expect you to keep something like that as a secret!"
Loki's anger died down like a snuffed-out candle and the tension bled out from his body as he asked, barely audible: "That is what all that was about? Just that?"
"Just that?", the mortal repeated incredulously. "Loki, that's the proof of your innocence! It's not just something you hide!"
"What does it change?", he asked quietly and leaned against a workbench with a heavy sigh. He had managed to banish his invasion from his head mostly, but this brought it all back. Staring at the wall farthest from him, he elaborated: "The dead stay dead, Stark, no matter who is at fault."
"And when did I become Stark again?", the engineer whispered. Loki's gaze snapped back to him and it was met with big, dark brown eyes. Stark looked hurt and it gave the god's insides a vicious twist. He stepped closer and the mortal's glance dropped to the floor. Without really knowing what he was doing, Loki extended a hand and threaded it through Sta– Tony's tousled, curly hair, being rewarded by a surprised glance upwards from under dark eyelashes.
"I apologize", he said quietly. "I reacted impulsively and made assumptions where you were just curious. I... fell back into old habits." After a second, he added: "Tony." It was not an actual part of the sentence, but expressed clearly enough that his anger had faded away.
"I'm not really one to talk about impulsive reactions, so I can't hold it against you", the engineer replied with a small smile.
"But there is something I still cannot understand", Loki said suddenly. "If you were just looking for the colour of my eyes, why did you have a picture of my... Jotun skin? My eyes were and always will be red when I am like that."
"I – uh..." The engineer started to fidget in his seat, nervously squinting up at the hand in his hair that could easily rip his head of any second. Confused, Loki noticed he was blushing, something that was really not usual for the man. "I kinda... sort of... likeitverymuchwhenyoulooklikethatbecauseIthinkyoulookhot", he blurted out. "Even if you don't like it yourself."
The god stared at him in disbelief, stunned to silence for a few seconds. Then, he felt himself starting to grin and mused: "I was aware of your strange tastes, but that seems off, even for me." Half of it was facade though; he had no idea how to react to that kind of confession since he himself was still disgusted by his Jotun skin. "I would still like you not to tell the others", he stated, changing the topic, withdrawing his hand to link it with the other one behind his back.
Tony followed the movement with his eyes before protesting: "Seriously? I still don't get why you would keep that to yourself! You –" He hesitated, then his tone grew softer as he continued: "You don't like sharing things with others, do you." It was not really a question. "You won't tell them about the icy thing, which I can somehow understand, but this is for and not against you. You just don't like to share anything about yourself, right? Now that I think about it, you never talk about yourself."
Loki swallowed and took a tiny step back. This conversation took a direction he didn't like a bit.
"I mean, you're talking with us, but only about others, or about what you see or find out or what you think. While Thor is always rambling about his stuff, I never even heard one story from you." His eyes had gotten a bit of the expression he used to show when figuring out a puzzle or one of his scientific mysteries. "If someone'd ask me who you are, I'd have no answer. I mean, aside from the usual titles, 'God of Sass and Badassery' et cetera? I know nothing about you."
"Was that a compliment?", the 'God of Sass and Badassery' asked drily.
"See, you're doing it again!", Tony accused, pointing his finger. "You're changing the topic to how I say things, rather than what I said."
"What do you want to hear, Tony?", Loki sighed. "I will not tell you tales about glorious battles or epic journeys like he does. That is Thor's metier, not mine."
"No, I don't even wanna hear that", the engineer waved it off. "Something about you. Really just you. Like..." He grinned. "When have you got a girlfriend for the last time?"
"As a matter of fact, I am married."
"What?!" The mortal's jaw dropped. "You're – I mean, not that I'd have a problem with that, but – I didn't think you as a person for that sort of... you know..."
His helpless stammering caused Loki to laugh and just for the fun of it, he added: "And I also have nine children." Now, Tony just gaped. "Well, do you want to hear some stories? You asked for them." He teleported himself to the couch in the corner of the room and sat down. "I hope you have some time to spare."
"Um, well", Tony stuttered, "I – I had no plans anyway." He rose from his chair and strolled over to the god. "Bring it on, then."
Storytime ;) Thoughts, anyone?