This is my second to last paragraph, but the next one is it, it's the end, it's all over!
I can't believe it...I finished a story. Me a person who is notorious for never finishing stories.
I appreciate all the views and the comments guys. Thanks for all the wonderful support
-Hazel

When Tony opened his eyes again, he wasn't staring at the ceiling of his workshop. Instead of what seemed like endless grey sky he was met with dark but soft green ceiling, dotted with a few fine lights of yellow and pale cream. He lifted his hand, running his fingers along the still burning skin of his traced Loki's fingers that had left dents along his muscle, twitching when he applied a little too much pressure. When he was sure that he was alone he sat up.

He was on a large, double bed. The sheets were the same green as the walls and ceilings and they were very comfortable, thick and soft to run his fingers through. At the base of the bed, a throw sat neatly laid out, the fur smoothed neatly with precaution and much care. He reached over, running his fingers over the white fur, it was thick and warm but the skin was rough, sore with a fish scale texture and it was like sandpaper against his fingertips. The rough skin eased his fear ridden body, but his hands shook with fear of the unknown.

He was hoping this was all just one big nightmare and he would wake up on the floor of his tower, drenched in whiskey from a previous night. But the multiple time he rubbed his eyes, shook his head, pinched himself…he was still in the green room. What were Loki's intentions with Tony now? Surely he had ruined his life enough without having to torture him some more. Death would have been a much greater gift at the moment in time.

He sighed loudly, regretting it instantly when his throat began to burn and wail at him. He sat up straight, allowing his legs to fall off the bedside, swinging short and unable to touch the black tiled floors. He took a few deep breaths, rolling his stiff shoulders and humming his dry and painful throat in thought. He was never one for concealing his emotions; if he felt something he would usually express it to the very limits of sanity. But now he was terrified, every part of his body was on guard, the hairs on his neck standing tall and his limbs shook with a cold sweat and anxiety for what might come. But he wasn't screaming, he wasn't shouting for help like he usually would, instead he waited silently, absorbing the many features of his windowless room as he waited for the unknown to come and put him out of his was another minute, maybe even twenty before he moved. He stood up, his feet bruised slightly and his knee's weak, but besides that he felt fine.

He walked along the bed side, trailing his fingers along the bare wall as he waddled further down the room. The green was icy, bitter cold that tickled his fingertips with frost. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that the whole room was freezing, the tiles were actually a pale and frozen blue, where he had walked, a few clear and darkened footprints sat, the heat of his body leaving his feet and hitting the cold floors. The air was thin; his breath fogged when he exhaled and it left him with chattering jaw. Tony folded his arms, burying his hands under each other in a lame attempt to remain warm. He focused on the colours of the room, knowing from experience and countless books that an occupied mind will keep his warmth up for longer, slowing down the process of death if it were to come to that.

The beds frame was a mesh of golden strips of various width and length, it reeked of ruthless wealth and arrogance, tony could tell from experience. Maybe Jarvis was right, Loki and Tony did run in the same mind circles as one another, sure Tony was sane, but it didn't make him any less of a monster than the God.

At the foot of the bed Tony noticed within some of the thick golden threads there were some leather bounds either side to the wide structure. He knelt to the floor, his fingers tracing along the cold gold and brushing across the leather strap accidentally; to his disgust, the leather was warm… He shivered with fear, the smell of leather burnt flesh suddenly filling his senses and he tried at everything to keep the contents of his stomach held his own wrist up against the leather; his heart was in his throat as he found it to be a near perfect fit. Tight enough for no escape, but lose enough to allow movement, to give a reminder of hope…

Tony looked over his shoulder, his eyes finding the light that was emerging in the cracks of the door. He felt repulsion slide down his spine at the thought of someone being watched while they were struggling, while they either starved or dehydrated with Loki just admiring from an open door...It made him boil with an old found amount of anger and sadness.

"…they never filled it." Tony's jaw began to shake again, his eyes falling to the darkest shadow in the room. Bright green eyes were scowling at him through the shadows. "They never filled the place you sat…" The god stood from the chair, walking closer to the man who remained kneeling. "All that blood…all the men I killed just because they looked like you…I just wanted to kill you…I just wanted to trick myself into thinking you were gone." The god coughed, drawing Tony to look up from the floor and to him instead.

Loki's hand glided into his hair; brushing back the fallen locks, letting the greasy strands stick back with sweat. He laughed after a moment of silence passed, the full extent to his evil and dark smile showing. "I tried...I tried to forget you…" His voice sang smugly, but under the smug tone there was a soft and dark trace of sadness.

Tony felt fingers dig into his scalp, the nails scratching through the skin but not drawing blood…he was being gentle, but why?

"It hurts me knowing you remember…I tried hard to protect you from all of this, all this truth, all this pain..." Tony cackled, bringing up a hand to latch onto Loki's his own fingers digging into the man's flesh, he tried a few times to untie the gods fingers, but the more he tried, the more knotted the God became.

"So what now Loki…? Are you going to force feed me another potion?" He raised his eyebrows in question, but Loki's face remained blank of any emotion. He pulled on Tony hair, forcing the man to stand. Loki immediately pushed the mortal away, releasing his fingers from the mesh of brown and black locks and allowing him to fall against the cold wall. The god shrugged.

"What would be the point…?" His voice was a lot quieter, almost like the boy he used to be but there was still the tall tint of self-hate. Tony stood against the wall, leaning all his body onto it for support he didn't have. He took a moment to admire Loki and his wear. The God had a pair of black skinny jeans on, along his torso he was wearing a dark green button up shirt, the long sleeves rolled up to his elbow, revealing the pale and toned arms he had. Over his shirt, a grey tweed waist coat sat, undone and almost forgotten, his feet still remained naked. His eyes were a scolding dark green, a colour Tony had almost forgotten existed but also the colour that he fell for as a young and irresponsible teenager.

"…so where does that leave us Loki?" The god made no attempt to reply. "Things have changed…did you really think we could pick off where we left it?" He pushed off the wall, getting into Loki's personal space. "There are hundreds, no wait, thousands of reasons we shouldn't be together or even in the same room…" He held up his hand and slowly began to count down the reasons. "One, you're the enemy, you tried to kill me and my team and you also tried to rule earth. Number two, your fucking insane." Loki scoffed, smiling softly and flicking his head back with teenage attitude. "Three, you're a smug asshole." The smile fell almost instantly.

"…you're one to speak Stark." Tony bit on his tongue at the God's tone and wit, which he both despised and loved. This man, this god, knew almost everything about him. Loki chuckled but his face remained full of grief, he reached up and swallowing Tony's hand in his own, ignoring the man's intense heat and sticky skin as he held tight. He forced the mortal closer, using his other arm to wrap around Tony, making it impossible for him to kick out of his grip immediately. Tony calmed down after a minute, getting used to the closed off space before Loki continued. "So, out of the three reasons you gave me…I can count them all to be said by your so called team."

Loki shook him quickly, glaring down on him with a serious tone and questioning shamrock eyes. "How do I make you feel?" Tony bit his tongue again, but this only angered the God. To Tony's surprise he didn't lash out, he didn't even shout. Instead with his hand, he released its hold on Tony and instead caressed the mortal's cheek, the coldness of his hand hissed again the heat of his flushed cheek. His emerald eyes were dripping with tears that yet had to fall and Tony couldn't tear himself away from looking at the broken monster before him. "…how do I make you feel?" Loki stuttered on his words, enough to be noticed but not enough to make his words become a blurred mess of emotion.

Tony forgot all about the others and instead only heard his young teenage self cry out for something. He fell on to the taller man, his hand falling from Loki's fist as he buried his face in the crook of the god's neck. Loki wrapped his arms protectively around Tony's shoulders, the faint but familiar scent of ash and hair gel filled his sense and he finally allowed the tears to fall from his eyes.

"…I love you Loki…" The mortal muttered, his own voice shaking with tears. Loki ran his hands down the man's back, inhaling his scent for longer before replying.

"I love you too…Tony."