A/N: So. I've got a new job as a comic book colorist (yay!), and I'm still adjusting to my new schedule (though I get to work from home in my fuzzy bathrobe, which makes my cat happy). BUT it's my birthday (yay, again!), so I figured I'd sit down and crank this baby out! Again, I apologize for any errors or crappy pacing. : /

Anyway, funny Tony/Loki-related story! I like to have The Sims 3 on in the background when I work. I made a house with sims modeled after Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, but I figured that everything is better with Loki and Tony, so I used the "Edit Town" feature to add them, Thor, and Odin to the town and had Sherlock invite them all over. I look away for five minutes to color, and when I look up, Sherlock and Loki are best friends, Sherlock is in the process of bitch-slapping Odin, Watson and Thor are off giggling and chasing butterflies, and Loki and Tony, who've just met, are off making out in a corner!

All without me doing a thing. Apparently The Sims ships Tony/Loki too. xD

The Next Day

Tony opened his eyes to be blinded by a stab of sunlight. He grunted and squinted at the window and the hazy corona that overlaid its outline like a rectangular halo.

He catalogued his symptoms: sensitivity to light and sound, headache, sour taste in his mouth, waking up in a stranger's bedroom.

Diagnosis: hangover.

Remedy: a potful of black, black coffee.

Tony yawned and scratched at the skin around the arc reactor. He considered the dark green sheets tangled around his legs and the still-warm imprint in the mattress next to him.

Correction: find pants, then coffee.

Easier said than done, apparently. Tony was able to excavate his shirt, tie, and one sock, however, after finding the articles of clothing curled up against the wall like frightened critters. Tony blew out a huff of laughter and made himself a green toga out of the, now thoroughly wrinkled – heh – sheets of Loki's bed.

Despite the fact that light had declared war on his skull and despite his rather vexing lack of pants, Tony found himself smirking and trying not to walk with too much of a swagger as he left the room. For last night he, Anthony Stark, had nailed the God of Mischief.

Tony paused a moment to give himself a mental high-five.

For that alone, he probably deserved the glare Loki shot him across the island countertop. Said glare held more misery than malice, however, so Tony did not take it personally, especially when Loki closed his eyes and groaned, cradling his head in his hands.

"Must you breathe so loudly?" Loki's voice was like sandpaper on gravel. Tony smirked and sidled over, sliding onto the stool next to Loki. He took some pride in the god's disheveled appearance, the curls of hair that sleep had pressed into odd shapes, his general state of undress, and... oh, that's where Tony's pants had gone!

Tony giggled at the thought of Loki "getting into his pants", and just smiled apologetically when Loki winced and glared at him again.

"Coffee helps, you know."

"Hnn?" Loki grunted, letting his arms flop outward onto the counter. The sprawl reminded Tony of cat-Loki on catnip. The image was almost excruciatingly endearing.

"With the headache," Tony clarified. "So does water. When you're hungover, you're essentially dehydrated, so... drink. And coffee makes everything seem better, even though it... technically dehydrates you further."

Loki hummed in agreement, and they stared across the island counter at the sink and the coffee maker next to it. It was only a few feet away, but even that small distance seemed insurmountable. Tony glanced at Loki, who returned the look with an eye-roll, a sigh, and a half-hearted flick of one hand. Two large mugs of coffee appeared in front of them, pitch-black and steaming.

Tony scooped up his mug with a relieved sigh, biting his tongue before he could flippantly say, "I love you," in response. It was an everyday reaction now full of not-so-everyday connotations, and it was much too early and his head throbbed way too much for Tony to be getting them into that mess.

"Thanks," he said instead. He grimaced through a bitter sip before turning to Loki and asking, "Don't have a 'hangover-be-gone' spell, huh?"

It was a silly question, but he couldn't help but feel hopeful. Loki's long-suffering look killed that hope outright. "I'm sure one exists," he said, "but it's not exactly my area of expertise."

Tony thought about that as he took another scolding sip. Loki ghosted his fingers along the handle. For a single, sharp moment, Tony wondered if his drink were poisoned, before his brain caught up to how stupid that would be. He had just slept through the night in Loki's bed, for heaven's sake!

And, damn, that had been all kinds of awesome. Really, he'd had no idea that Loki was that limber and –

Focus, Tony.

Loki groaned again and let his head fall forward to thunk on the countertop. Tony took in the undignified sprawl and the dark tangle of curls and smiled. Before he could think better of it, Tony sank his hand into those curls and pressed his fingertips in soothing circles along Loki's scalp. The god stiffened minutely before letting himself slump forward even more, completely boneless.

Loki closed his eyes and hummed, leaning into the touch, and again Tony smirked. He'd had enough hangovers to know what helped, and the world was a much safer place when Loki was appeased.

Loki turned his head so that he could look up at Tony with one eye, one cheek still pressed to the granite. "I'm not your cat anymore, you know," he mumbled, but there was no real reproach in his words.

"Sure thing, Lo'kitty."

Loki's glare was half-hearted at best, and Tony knew better than to stop the impromptu head massage. Loki closed his eyes and continued to hum under his breath.

"Good human," he muttered sleepily. "You know your place."

Tony scoffed, but before he could reply, Loki mumbled, "Your pants are vibrating."

"Hmm?" Tony stilled.

"Your phone," Loki clarified groggily. "It's vibrating. In your pants." A smile crept up his face. "Tickles."

"Oh." Now Tony could hear the subsonic hum. "Oh!" His eyes widened when he realized who must be calling. "Crap, right, I'm technically a hostage, aren't I?"

Loki smirked and slid the buzzing phone into Tony's hand. Tony lamented the missed opportunity to reach into Loki's pockets.

Thirty-seven missed calls. Pepper's name and number blinked across the screen. "Morning, sunshine," he said into the phone and then winced when he thought about how un-hostage-y that sounded.

There was a gasp and then a hair-raising scream that sounded like, "YOU!" Tony flinched and held the phone away from his ear. "The Avengers, SHIELD, and I have been looking all over for you, Anthony Stark, and the first thing you say to me is 'Morning, sunshine'?"

Her voice rose in pitch until it hit an octave only dogs could hear.

"Calling you 'Anthony'," Loki blithely remarked. "She must be upset." He sipped at his coffee.

"Alright, Pepper," Tony managed when she finally paused for breath. "Sorry. Didn't think that through, really. I'm fine, by the way. Thanks for asking."

"Sorry, I'm just... I've been so worried."

"I know."

"So what's going on? Are you still a hostage or something?"

Tony started to answer but then stopped to consider. "Good question, actually." Turning to Loki, he asked, "Hey, Loki, am I still a hostage?"

Loki shot him a sly look over the rim of his mug. "In a manner of speaking."

To Pepper, Tony said, "Loki says, 'maybe'."

There was a long pause from Pepper's end, and Loki laughed.

"Tony, are you taking this seriously?"

"Of course."

"I...well, okay, um. Are you hurt? Are you in any danger?"

"No, and I'm not a hundred percent sure, but I'll take my chances." Tony looked at Loki and wondered how much he should tell her. If word got back to SHIELD or to the other Avengers, Tony was screwed.

"Well, there's an ambassador here from Latveria who's been trying to get in contact with you, so do you think you could convince Loki to take you hostage some other time? Like, on my day off next week so that I don't have to deal with this?"

"Thanks for your concern, Pepper, as always." Tony pulled the phone away from his ear and looked over to see Loki watching him. Tony really wished he could read minds.

"I need to go," he said softly, warily. See, this was why Tony usually left as soon as... business was done; he never had to worry about the awkward morning-after good-byes. Considering he was dealing with a god-slash-trickster-slash-villain who happened to be his close friend's brother and who – and for some strange reason, this was most important of all – happened to be Loki, Tony was getting ready to hyperventilate.

Loki's eyes narrowed a fraction. Tony pushed himself off the stool but stilled when Loki's hand closed about his wrist, just tight enough to set alarm bells ringing in Tony's head.

"You are still my hostage," Loki said. He said the words lightly, as though teasing, but there was something accusing and desperate in his green eyes.

Tony peeled Loki's hand off his wrist and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the knuckles. Loki's stare softened minutely, though his expression stayed closed off. "Your hostage needs to go to work," he said. Then, with an arched eyebrow and a considerable amount of bravado, he asked, "Are you going to stop me?"

Not a challenge, just a question.

"I..." Loki licked his lips, then in barely a whisper, "no." He looked away and pulled his hand from Tony's grasp. Tony watched the walls of ice go back up and frowned.

He pressed a hand against the countertop and leaned into Loki's personal space, so that his lips were a breath away from the Trickster's ear. He could hear and feel Loki tense and swallow. "If you want," Tony said huskily, "we could do this again tonight, only this time I'll take you hostage."

That was new, asking for a second date. Then again, so was thinking of a kidnapping as a date, period. He wondered if this was what it was like to have Stockholm Syndrome.

Tony dragged his lips along the shell of Loki's ear and felt him shudder. Loki's knuckles were white against the mug in his grasp. "I do not believe that would be wise, Anthony."

Tony pulled back as though slapped. Being called "Anthony" just reminded him of when his dad used to scold him. It was strange hearing it from Loki.

"Wise is boring," Tony replied, trying to read Loki's expression, hoping for the barest clue as to what he was thinking.

Loki looked away and said nothing, and Tony felt his heart sink into his stomach. Why was Loki acting so...?

Oh.

Oh.

Oh God. Oh God! Tony should know by now when a guy was only interested in one thing. Usually he was the guy, but...

Well now. Isn't irony a bitch?

"O-okay," Tony managed through the restrictive lump in his throat. "I'll, uh... I'll just see you around then."

Tony didn't look at Loki as he made his retreat, grabbing up his t-shirt and boxers and throwing them on – he was a master at this by now – on his way out the door.

Loki watched him go and clutched the mug until it shattered, ceramic edges biting into his palms and making his hands sticky with lukewarm coffee and blood. He stared down at the mess for a moment before calmly and methodically cleaning it up.

As he ran water over his hands, Loki systematically went through the steps for procuring a new apartment before noon. Tony Stark knew where he lived now and that was too dangerous.

It had been foolish to let him leave.

Loki growled and punched a dent into the wall above the faucet. He drew in ragged breaths and was almost relieved when the phone rang and interrupted his thoughts. Pulling his hand free of the decimated plaster, Loki switched off the faucet and switched on his phone.

"Hello, Victor," he said through grit teeth.

Pepper probably should have been more surprised when she rolled to a stop at the designated meeting place and watched a half-naked, barefoot Tony slide into the passenger's seat. She shook her head, but the snide comment died on her lips when she saw the look on his face.

"Rough night?" she asked.

A pause, and then, in a gritty whisper, "Just drive." Tony stared out the window, and silence fell between them, thick and heavy.

Footnote: Dammit, Loki! Why can't you just let yourself be happy, you angsty, gorgeous bastard! Dx