Chapter 2
Loki tried not to think about where he'd come from, how far from Asgard and royalty he had fallen. He tried not to imaging the distain and disgust Loki Odinson, second Prince of the Realm Eternal, Trickster God, Prince of Lies, Silvertongue would think of Luke Larson, mortal, single father, beggar, and desperate whore. When such a thought did slip into his mind he thought of Emily. He remembered the small girl who would bring little violets and chipped seashells to him as he lay in the guest bed of the Widower's beach house. It gave him strength. Not the kind of strength that Loki Odinson coveted but the strength to fake a smile, to lie and to deceive. In a twisted way he enjoyed his work. There was pride in satisfying a customer, in judging correctly what they wanted before even they knew. For all that his pride had been broken by his desperate situation, he took pride in that skill. There were prettier men, larger, more muscled, even more talented men, but he knew people. He could find their dark desires, their greatest fears, and their hidden sins, and that was what made him good at his job.
Still there was that knot of apprehension before meeting a new client that Loki got standing in the entryway of the Willard Hotel. Worse, he didn't know a thing about the man, not even a name. Jonny's instructions had been short and sweet: "Don't fuck this up." Loki had chosen not to comment on his choice of words. It would have been easy, satisfying, to give a snarky retort, even if his words earned him more than a few bruises. He could deal with bruises. Emily couldn't. Emily held his tongue. Emily kept him playing the act of a submissive idiot for Jonny. Emily was the reason he was standing in a suit he could barely afford in a hotel lobby worth more than his house waiting for a nameless man. And he begrudged her nothing.
"Mr. Larson? Luke Larson?" A voice asked and Loki turned to the sound with a charming but not overly bright smile. He noted the man's cheep shoes first, decent suit, wide girth, pudgy neck and the burn scars that crept up from under his collar. Immediately he knew this wasn't his employer. "The car is outside."
"Of course," Loki said with a nod. The man opened the door of the black Audi for Loki and drove them away from the hotel in silence headed eastward.
"Who is it I am going to meet?" He ventured to ask and got only a passing glace in the rear view mirror from the driver.
"He said you knew him." There was honest confusion in his voice and Loki had the feeling the man didn't know the nature of the arrangement that brought Loki to his employer. Loki shrugged. If this man didn't know there was no reason to tell him.
The car pulled into an underground lot before Loki caught sight of the building above and they spiraled down to a private door that opened for the driver automatically. The black Audi pulled into it's designated spot in the line of shinning cars in the private lot. Loki stepped out and raked his eyes over the rows of ostentatious sports vehicles all in matching shades of bright red. The smells of fresh oil and leather filled his nose. He was caught between the urge to shake his head in exasperation and to growl in frustration, but he did none of that because he was working. So instead he just smiled, feigned ignorance, and let the driver lead him to the private elevator.
"All the way up, Jarvis." The driver said as Loki stepped in, and then he leaned back to let the doors close, leaving Loki alone in the metal box as it began to lift upward. The small lights above the door flashed as the floors flew by and Loki looked at the dull reflections in the bright gold and heavily polished dark wood paneling. 20 floors later the shinning door opened on a large penthouse apartment.
Loki stepped out cautiously and looked around at the sparkling cleanliness of the nearly monochromatic decorations of glass and black leather. It was surprisingly impersonal, not a magazine or a framed picture anywhere in the large living space strewn artfully with chairs and couches on designer area rugs that still smelled new, like a department store.
Tony Stark walked around the corner, casually dressed in a black T-Shirt and an old pair of tailored pants that were a little too large and stained with grease. He had one hand in his pocket and the other cradled a crystal glass against his chest. A sly half smirk came over his face when he saw Loki.
"Hey, Reindeer Games."
"Mr. Stark."
"Tony, please."
"As you wish."
"Oh really? We're doing that now?" Tony asked walking over, the amber liquid in the bottom of the glass sloshing as he ambled.
"It's your money." Loki pointed out as Tony came to stand just a foot away. The billionaire looked him over with calculating eyes as Loki did the same. A small thrill of fear slid down his spine and he felt sweat on his palms. Tony stood comfortably, but it might have been a show. His eyes didn't betray a hunger or intensity that might suggest sexual motive. There was no anger, barely even amusement on his expressive face. If anything Stark looked tired, deep circles under his eyes and a slight pallor to his skin coupled with the unwashed stale smell that wafted off his clothes. But under all of it there were bright intelligent eyes that scrutinized Loki as closely as he was scrutinizing his client. Though smaller, physically weaker and slower there was a physical confidence and comfort that Tony had in his own skin that made him seem dangerous. Loki, the man who had intimidated gods and argued morals with demons, found that he didn't know how to respond.
Without warning Tony smiled a harsh, almost predatorial smile that chilled Loki to the bone. Tony turned away and lifted the glass as he walked, downing its contents. He went to the small bar on the near wall and sat down reaching over the counter for a bottle and a fresh glass. He filled both before turning around again and holding out one.
"That drink you asked for," he said with a smirk.
"Is that why I'm here?"
"I can't have people saying I'm a bad host," Tony said with a shrug and Loki took the glass from him. He swirled the contents but didn't drink. Tony finished his in a one swig and the crystal clacked loudly on the counter, the sound echoing in the large space and off the hard surfaces. Tony looked from Loki to the glass then said, "I'm curious."
"You're paying me for information?"
"More like a distraction."
"From what have you need to be distracted?"
"Well if you're asking that you're not very good at your job." Loki hid his grimace.
"What is it you wish to know?" He asked taking the seat across from Tony gracefully.
"Did it help? The money?"
That was not a question Loki had expected and he hesitated before answering. He let sincerity bleed through in his voice.
"Yes, yes it did. Emily's treatment went well and the new medication helps her eat better, keep it down. She's putting on weight; she needs it. Some days she seems almost… normal."
"Good, good," Tony muttered. He reached for the bottle again. His hand nearly knocked it over and Loki caught the teetering jar. Slowly he poured Tony a glass and the man nodded his thanks before throwing it back.
"Are you drunk?" Loki asked, peering at the billionaire. It was deceptively hard to tell with Tony Stark.
"Getting there."
"I see I have a lot of catching up to do then," Loki replied and drank his own glass down. He contemplated the taste and the burn in his throat then smiled. "That's good."
"Damn right. I only buy the good stuff."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?"
"Because it's me. So, Loki," Tony let the name roll slowly off his tongue, "how have things been since the King of Darkness or whoever tried to destroy the world last, where was it? Greenwich? Greenwich of all places!"
"King of Darkness?"
"Mal-something."
"Oh Malakeith," Loki smiled his old smirk, one he knew Tony would recognize, watching all the while for a reaction. "He was a fool," Loki continued in a haughty tone, "he sought to use a power he couldn't control, like a child swinging a rifle as a club."
"Yeah that's what I heard. Pissed you off, enough to work with your brother, excuse me, adopted brother."
"Yes well, I'm easily bored. Prison suited me ill."
"And this," Tony motioned to him, "suits you better." Loki faltered and he knew his façade cracked momentarily. "Yeah. Nope. I don't believe it." Tony awkwardly refilled his glass and slid off his stool, ambling to one of the couches and sitting down hard, ignoring the slosh of his drink.
"So what really happened?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why work with Thor? What was the deal?" Tony, though his drink sloshed in the glass he held Loki's eyes steadily. Loki sighed. At the time he rationalized his decisions by saying he owed Tony a debt. Later he would wonder if that was the whole truth. Or if maybe he was lonely in his banishment, if all the stresses had finally compounded and broken him. Loki stood and walked over the chair across from Tony, sitting down and lounging comfortably. He dropped all pretenses and the façade of his former self.
"Revenge. In exchange for showing Thor the secret ways out of Asgard he would release me from prison and give me a chance at revenge."
"For? Malakeith steal your thunder? Sorry, bad choice of words. Did you have dibs on ending the universe? I mean the ancient Norse seemed to think you did."
"Oh yes, that was quite a laugh."
"You saying you had something to do with that? Why am I not surprised?"
"I am the god of lies and mischief, spinning stories is how I earned that title."
"Of course. But you're avoiding the question. Revenge is kind of our thing, you know. We are the Avengers."
"Yes, interesting choice of names, almost as if you anticipate failure so as to give yourselves purpose."
"Never thought of it like that but whatever, you're still avoiding the question."
Loki pressed his lips together and glared. He swallowed and looked down at his drink, twirling the liquid in the bottom of the glass.
"My mother."
"Wait, she's-not-my-mother mother or your real mother?"
"I know nothing of my birth mother. Frigga was the only mother I ever knew, mother to me in all the ways that mattered."
"And those are?"
"Frigga loved unconditionally. She stood by Odin through atrocities and mistakes, she stood by Thor despite his brash and destructive ways, she stood by me even when I returned a war criminal." For a long moment Tony just stared at Loki's blank face his eyes searching up and down for any twitch or indication of emotion. As the silence stretched on Loki wondered what Tony's intelligent brown eyes saw.
Like before Tony's smile was sudden and seemingly unprovoked like he was listening to another conversation that Loki couldn't hear. For someone who was usually so good at reading people, it frustrated the God of Lies that this inner dialogue was completely lost on him.
"Did it work?"
"Malekaith was defeated, yes."
"I know that. Sun's shining isn't it."
"I do not understand the question."
"Your revenge, did you get it?"
"Yes," Loki murmured, "part of it." He looked down at his drink where liquid anger and solace swirled in shades of amber.
"Feel any better?"
Loki just looked at Tony over his cup as he drank it down.
"Yeah, I know how that is."
"You have lost family?"
"Don't know if I'd call him family but a month or so in a hell hole together can do wonders for a friendship."
"There is a story?"
"Yeah, not a good one."
"There are no bad stories, it is the telling that makes them great."
"A liar would say that, wouldn't he," Tony chuckled.
"Where is the line between a lie and a half truth? When does History become Fiction or Fiction History? If everyone believes a lie does it not become truth and if no one believes the truth then is it not a lie?"
"Ok, I haven't had enough alcohol for you to ask those kinds of questions."
"Then another?" Loki asked, standing with his empty glass.
"Another!" Tony handed his over. "You're still avoiding my questions though!" He said as Loki walked to the bar and gave a small smile over his shoulder. Tony scrutinized it from his chair. Loki shivered again as he looked into those unreadable eyes.
"You wish to know how I arrived on earth."
"If I'm gonna be keeping this secret for you."
"You have already promised not to reveal me."
"Yeah, but I remember also telling you I lie."
"I do not think so."
"Willing to bet Emily on it?"
"I will never bet with Emily's life." Loki said seriously as he returned with the next round. He passed Tony his cup and subtly made sure their fingers brushed in the action. Once he was sitting comfortably again he answered the question. "Odin thought it fitting to punish me as he did Thor when he too threatened to bring war to the nine realms." Tony snickered.
"Sorry, I can't imagine Thor doing… what you're doing."
"Prostitution?" Loki said bluntly.
"Yep, that."
"No, he would not and how I chose to spend my banishment was not the All Father's concern."
"Right, Thor went and found himself a hot girlfriend. You found yourself a pity case."
"I did not take Emily in for pity," Loki spit the word, "diseased mortals are more common than their healthy counterparts."
"How many of them recently lost their mother because of their deranged father, besides you?" Tony asked.
"Are you always so annoying when drunk?"
"Annoying and right?"
"No."
"Yes, and I'm not even drunk yet."
"And you get smarter with inebriation?"
"I do my best work when I'm drunk."
"Ah yes, only a drunk man would conceive of that metal monstrosity to which you daily trust your life."
"That or a malnourished man with his chest hooked up to a car battery and a gun pressed to his temple. It is my best work though I must admit." Tony's face betrayed nothing and Loki just stared at him.
"You were forced to make the suit?" He asked after a pause. Tony finished his glass and then looked down at the bottom of the cup.
"They wanted a weapon, so that's what I made."
"And they were satisfied with it?"
"Not really. I don't think they intended for me to use it against them."
"I see. You had your revenge then?"
"Yeah," Tony muttered darkly. For a moment Loki saw real emotions he could understand on Tony's face. Anger, lingering anger, that could not be quelled no mater how much blood was spilt. That was something Loki could relate to. Loki hid a smile in his glass.
"I owe you my gratitude then, Stark."
"What for?"
"It was you who carried the weapon through the portal and destroyed the Chitari strong hold, was it not?"
"Yeah, but why would you…" Tony trailed off at the look Loki was giving him.
"The Chitauri were foul, cruel beings and I don't mourn their death. They would have used the tesseract to wage war on the nine realms. It would have been a bloody futile conflict resulting in the Chitauri's inevitable destruction."
"So not your best friends then?"
"I have no friends, Stark."
"Again with the 'Stark'," Tony moaned.
"Tony," Loki amended.
"Thank you!" Tony looked at his glass and frowned when he found it empty. Loki reached over and plucked it from his hand, heading back toward the bar.
"What do I call you, Lollipop?" Tony asked.
"You may call me what ever you wish." Loki said and only with years of practice did he restrain his flinch.
"You would really do anything for that kid, wouldn't you."
Loki poured Tony another drink. Behind him he heard the billionaire stand and approach.
"I mean you would actually sleep with me if I told you to," Tony said as Loki turned and held out the drink. As Tony reached for it Loki pulled his hand back, stepping closer so he stood over the smaller man. He leaned down to Tony's ear close enough for his breath to brush the man's skin.
"And you would like it," he promised. He smirked at Tony's shiver and put the glass in Tony's hand, letting their fingers brush again. Tony pulled away and for a moment. He was miraculously speechless. Loki just let a soft knowing smile quirk the corner of his lips before he took another sip from his glass and walked toward his seat as if nothing had happened. Tony seemed frozen for a moment, then turned to Loki.
"I've slept with a lot of people."
"So have I. In nearly two thousand years, I've learned a thing or two." Loki didn't even give Stark the satisfaction of a glance.
"Wow, you are a cocky bastard." Tony rounded the chair Loki sat in and slumped back into his own seat.
"Stark, you wouldn't respect me if I wasn't."
"Who says I respect you."
"Well I'm still alive."
"You have a point."
Tony stared at Loki over his glass, pupils wide and licking his lips. Loki could see the other man's mind working even if he couldn't hear the conversation Tony was having with himself. This time though there was no smile.
"You hungry? I'm hungry! What do you like—No, wait—better plan—what does Emily like? I'll order extra and you can take it home for her. Hamburgers, I could go for hamburgers right now and who doesn't love french-fries."
Loki was shocked into sudden silence by the rapid shift of conversation.
"Macaroni and cheese," He managed to say, "her favorite food. It's macaroni and cheese."
"Great! Harry's makes great mac and cheese, Jarvis, call Harry's. Macaroni, who says macaroni anymore, please. Get us like four, Jarvis and a hamburger, grilled onions, and, what do you want?" Tony looked at Loki. Loki held back a laugh.
"A hamburger will be fine."
"And another for Reindeer Games."
"Of course, sir," the computer replied. It was not the strangest job Loki had ever done but he was tempted to say it was the most pleasurable. Dinner arrived and they ate it amiably. Tony continued to drink through the meal though he thankfully slowed down. They were sitting back watching the sun setting over the DC Skyline when Jarvis said Tony had a phone call. It was Tony's CEO, a cranky man under a lot of stress who seemed to cope through forced pleasantries and in Loki's opinion needed a better outlet or a different career, who was calling to berate Tony about work that needed to be done before the sun set in California. When the poor man was on hold Tony turned to Loki.
"Sorry to cut this short," Tony said to Loki. "Too bad we didn't get to the fun part. Happy's waiting down stairs to take you home, or wherever."
"Thank you."
"Tell Jonny-boy I said hi."
"Of course."
"You'll do no such thing."
"No, I won't."
"Then tell Emily," Tony caught a look in Loki's eyes as he got up to leave, "or don't."
"It was a pleasure as always, Mr. Stark."
"Yep." Loki turned and walked away, glancing at his watch when the gold doors of the elevator were closed. He bit his lip. One part of him didn't want to question the charity Tony was showing him, it was thinking only of Emily, the debts building up in piles of paper hidden away in his bedroom, and the weight of the take-out box in his hand. Another part wondered what angle Tony Stark was playing, how much worse his situation might become and what more he could afford to lose. Loki dropped his arm and turned back to the fuzzy warped reflection in the polished metal. The answer to the last question was clear; Emily.