A/N: In warning, I give you one three-letter word: SEX. (Plus the usual.)

The chapter title is Goodnight Moon by Go Radio. Great song, especially for the middle-to-end (I'm guessing) of the chapter.

Enjoy, loves!

Tony sighed, wiping away the sweat dripping down the side of his face. He could feel the soot from the fire seeping into his pores and temporarily dyeing him a darker shade of brown. The glow of the flames glinted in his eyes, showing him something unfettered, something not tethered to this world and the rules Tony had rebelled against all his life. It was free, it was unconquerable, it was all-consuming. And more than anything, Tony wanted to be like that fire.

Instead, he was here, in Afghanistan- or was it a lab in New York City?- his freedom stripped away, locked in chains, held down and bound to someone else's will. He was being slowly bent, ever closer to snapping in two. And there was so much loneliness here, just another straw that might break the camel's back. All Tony wanted was to be home, with Loki, in snowy white arms, holding-

"Tony? Hey, man, you okay?" Bruce's warm hand landed lightly on his shoulder, and reality came flooding back. He was safe. He was in New York City. Loki was within walking distance.

He shook his head, cleaning away the remnants of the memories. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just daydreaming." He smiled at Banner. Luckily, the man just gave him an unsure look and didn't ask anymore questions. Tony had more than he could handle with Loki's increasingly worried glances and protective touches, and the way he'd wrap himself around Tony every night like he might disappear if Loki didn't hold on tight enough. It broke Tony's heart. He wasn't the only one haunted by those six months. He knew that much.

He looked back down at the white counter-top before him.

He needed a drink.

Loki took a deep breath, shivering- and it wasn't just from the cold- and trying to remember what oxygen was and how his lungs worked. But it was okay. This was okay. It was going to be okay. Nevertheless, he gripped his phone a bit tighter, reminding himself that rescue was mere seconds away- not that he was a damsel in distress. And yeah, he was becoming a little less independent than he had always prided himself on being, and yeah, he needed to remember what sweet, sweet liberty was. But right now, he didn't care. This was Ground Zero.

He walked into the restaurant, his emerald eyes sweeping the dusky room for a golden-spun head of hair. That same golden hair he had always wondered why he hadn't inherited, and had made him hate his inky curls with an unprecedented passion. But it had always been that way for him, looking at others and always wondering why he was different. Why couldn't he just be normal? He had always been all alone in everything; his sexuality, his heritage, his intelligence, his frailty. His parents were strong and average, all blonde hair and blue eyes and tanned skin and muscles, while he was a painful pale and overworking brain and long inky curls and green eyes like a cat. He had punched mirrors to pieces for the reflection that scorned and scoffed at him.

"Loki!" A high, feminine voice that had sung him to sleep, and told him bedtime stories all his growing up years, called to him.

He felt his spine stiffen, and every muscle go tense. "Frigga." He smiled tersely and turned to face the beaming woman. Her blue eyes were wet, he noticed. There was an air of desperation and adoration about her. Again, he reminded himself that this wasn't her doing, it was Odin and Thor's. "So good to see you." No, it wasn't, but who would notice another white lie among the arsenal that seemed to trail behind him.

"Oh, son," He couldn't keep his smile from fading, or the light in his eyes from switching off. "I've missed you so!" Her step faltered, but she wrapped him in an awkward hug that made his skin tingle uncomfortably.

Loki hated hugs. (Except for the one's Stark gave him that lifted him off his feet and swung him around.)

"Come, come. I have a table for us." She took his hand- yet another touch he absolutely abhorred from all but Anthony and Natasha- and pulled him to a quiet booth in the back of the darkly lit restaurant. "How have you been?" Her eyes were alive in the dark light and seemed to be searching his face for something. He ducked his head and stared at his menu.

"Fine." His voice was nearing a whisper in the serenity of their little cubicle.

"Thor tells me you and your boyfriend are doing well?" She smiled at him, her hands twisting in front of her.

He sighed and sat back. "Frigga..." This wasn't easy. "What are you doing?" He wasn't deflecting from he and Stark- well, not entirely- he wanted to know what this was about. For some insane reason, he had the feeling he wasn't going to like her answer.

She looked down, her smile disappearing for the first time. "Well, I wanted to see my son, of course." Loki flinched at the word 'son' like he'd been slapped. "You're still my son, Loki. No matter what your father or brother have done. And I assure you-"

"No." The word was firm. Loki had been through enough, from everyone. "Frigga, I am not your son. You adopted me, and kept the truth from me for years. I understand that you couldn't possibly understand how confused that made me, when I was growing up and when you told me, but it doesn't excuse your actions. I went through my entire life, wondering why I was so fucking different. Come to find out, it was because I was a dirty lie." His eyes were stinging, his mouth trembling a bit. His hands were fists at his sides, but he wasn't done. "I have gone through so much abuse in my life. You can't understand, because you aren't me. But I will not allow anyone- including Odin Odinson- to beat me down any longer. I don't care about your assurances, or your claims to be my parent. You aren't. Your assurances mean nothing. The people who've hurt me, don't intend to stop. The only way I can stay sane, or be okay, is to cut those people off. To keep them out of my life." He shook his head. "I came here out of courtesy for you, Frigga. But I'm tired. I am done fighting." He stood, leaning down in front of her to bring their eyes level. "I love you, for being the mother I never had." Gently, he wiped away the tears under her eyes with long thumbs. Her hands gripped his wrists despondently. "But I cannot- and will not- stay under your husband or your son any longer. Can't you see what I've been through?" He begged her to understand, he needed her to. For once in Loki's life, he needed a little closure.

She took his thin wrist in her hand, and turned it over, bearing pale white skin marred by a jagged dark red line. "Yes, son. I can see what you've been through. But I cannot just let you go." Her blue eyes gazed up at him, swimming in her tears. "You are mine, Loki Odinson. I don't care who bore you, who gave birth to you. You have been mine since the day I saw you. And I will not just give you my blessing to disappear." She gripped him, pulling him down closer to her face. "I love you, because you are my son." The crack in her voice tore a little fissure in the scarred material that composed Loki's heart. So many times, people had trampled him down, ripped him to shreds, jerked the chains around his neck- and now, Frigga was trying to piece him together. She was trying to take random pieces from different puzzles, and force them together.

Loki shook his head, pulling back from her jerkily. "Then I will go without your blessing." So much for closure. "Goodbye, my dear Frigga. Thank you. And I am sorry." With a kiss to her cheek, he turned and left.

Tears bundled up in his chest with a tightness he hadn't felt in years.

Tony stared up at the sky from his balcony, a beer in his hand and the sun warming his face. It felt good after being in the air-conditioned lab all day, to just feel the natural, warm air of the outside. In front of him, New York City sprawled long and hard-faced, like a beautiful woman who'd been through too much in too many years. The City was a cougar, seducing young men with her beauty, pulling them in and under, suffocating them in dark perfume and too much sex and the allure of something matured and a little wrinkled, but still as graceful as ever. It was his city, and it always had been.

His phone buzzed on the armrest, where he'd laid it a few minutes ago. Loki. "Hey there, stud." He smiled out at the city, feeling it crinkle the edges of his eyes.

"Stark...I just left the restaurant." That was a lie. There was a distinct slur in his words. "It was...horrible." A wet sniffle was muffled on the other line. Tony rubbed his eyes. "I told her she wasn't my mom." He coughed, covering a sob, Tony guessed. "And, you know, she cried, and told me I wasn't allowed to leave her life. And, I really didn't want to, but what can I do? I mean, I can't just allow them to control me anymore, can I? Did I do the wrong thing, Anthony? Am I a terrible person?" The innocence and brokenness in Loki's voice was too much for Tony to handle. He sounded like a little kid, again.

"No, no, baby, of course you aren't. Where are you, honey? Let me come get you, okay?" Tony let his voice slip into that low, almost growling tone that Loki adored. It was his morning voice, the soothing tone he used right after they woke up tangled up in each other's arms. It was the tone he used right after Loki woke him from a nightmare, and started whispering seductive things in his ears and they found warmth in each other's arms. It was the voice he used for Loki, and Loki alone.

Loki sniffed, and Tony could practically see him wiping at his nose with a sleeve. "Okay. I'm at that bar on 3rd." Where Tony had taken him not long ago, a place where the bartender wouldn't care what his age was, merely because he was Tony's friend. Smart kid.

"Okay, honey. I'm gonna come get you, okay? Don't leave." He was already sprinting to his car. "You stay right where you are, alright?"

"I love you." Loki whispered, sounding sleepy and more upset than he had in a long time.

"I love you, baby. I'm coming." He started his car, zooming into traffic and weaving through cars. The only thing he wanted was his drunk, heartbroken boyfriend, safe in his arms.

Steve glared at Clint. "Look, Tony has been this way for years, Steve. It's not like you're suddenly gonna 'fix' him." Clint growled, glaring back at the foot taller, stronger man.

"I'm not trying to 'fix' him. And it doesn't matter what you think. Just because you have some crush on him doesn't mean you're the authority on who Tony is. I've known him since he was a kid!" Steve was starting to shout. Natasha sent a warning glance their way, if they got her kicked out of the library...well, Clint preferred not to think about what she'd do to them.

"Are you really pulling the 'I've known him longer' bullshit? I don't care. At least I'm not shoving my philosophy down his throat, Steve. And don't give me the crush shit. If anyone has a crush on Tony, it's you. You used to really care about him, y'know. I admired that about you. Before Loki was around, you were holding his head over the toilet and taking care of him when he was too drunk to function. But now Loki's around, and Tony's o-fucking-k. For the first time, he's alright, and you're stirring up all this shit about his...addiction." Clint cast a furtive glance around.

Sure, it was pretty well-known that Tony wasn't a saint. But his Adderall addictions had been kept under wraps, somehow. Although, anyone with eyes could see when the kid was too drugged to function. Hawkeye still remembered the first night Tony had shown up at his dorm, slurring about drinking too much and how funny it was driving his dad's car into a fountain at some fancy party. Clint didn't even ask, just watching him rant and rave and look at him with weird-looking eyes and waving his arms around like he could paint the words in the air. It had made him wonder, what had fucked with Tony so bad to turn him into this? A druggie, a drunk, a genius with a giant chasm between him and happiness. From that moment forward, he'd decided to protect this kid. Because there was no one so fragile, so easy to bend and break.

"Because it's back. Clint, you can see it. Loki isn't curing him. He needs treatment." The fervor in his eyes caught Clint's attention. For once, he was really hearing what Steve said, because right now, Steve wasn't ranting about god or moral or anything. He was talking about Tony. And what Tony needed.

Was he right?

Loki giggled against Stark's shoulder, feeling himself getting more and more flirty. Anthony was drinking it up like the near-empty glass of whiskey in his hand. "You're so cute." His boyfriend purred in that deeper than 10,000-leagues-under-the-sea voice.

Is it possible for humans to melt, because Loki's pretty sure he is under those brown eyes.

"Let's dance." And then, Loki's being pulled out under flashing lights over a shaking floor amidst a bunch of shaking, wiggling, and gyrating dancing people. In any other situation, he'd be hyperventilating. But then there's Stark's eyes, and his heart feels like it's beating way too fast, and he's grinning at the inventor turned lover, and man, his boyfriend is sexy.

What is happening.

Fun Fact#21: Loki doesn't say 'sexy'. It's too objectifying. This has changed. Because, have you seen his boyfriend?

Seductive, powerful arms wrap around him, pulling him close enough to feel the ever-present heat practically radiating off Stark's body. He loops his arms around Anthony's neck, feeling his fingers curl up into his hair with a mind of their own. Soft curls slid between his fingers and Anthony presses a quick kiss to his lips, humming appreciatively against his mouth. Loki grins. Again. Because today went from shitty to perfect in a few hours with a pint-sized inventor who turned his world inside out and upside down. And that was completely okay with him. Although, his overworking heart might have a few complaints.

Brown eyes turned to molten chocolate as they gazed down at him. You know that whole melting thing? It's happening again. And they're getting closer, and Loki's noticing how perfect Anthony's lips, and nose, and eyes, and hair, and cheekbones, and skin tone, and ears- and oh, they're kissing again. But this time, it's different. Different from every kiss they've ever had before. It's all soft and seductive and super sexual, and yeah, Loki's got a feeling he can kind of read Stark's mind right about now.

"I want you to be mine." It was breathed against his neck, preceding a soft, biting kiss against his jugular. Heat coursed through him, because after over a year, Stark can still get him a little too hot for comfort, only he can make all that interminable chill go away.

And then it's branding fingers touching his skin and Loki's mind is a whirlwind, and all he really wants is to go back to the apartment and get in Stark's bed and feel all of Stark's heat in it's full force. But no, they're back at the bar, and Anthony's getting them something strong to drink and Loki can't help but smile and lean on Stark because there's really nothing better than right now. There's never been a moment so fully encompassing and so hot and so messy, and it's so freeing to be with this crazy motherfucker he's falling more in love with each passing day. For the first time in ever, Loki's so perfectly comfortable and loose and free and he can just flirt and seduce and smile and laugh. And it's okay, there's nothing regimental or reticently composed about this. It's just him and the boy he's so in love with it's driving him insane.

"Tell me something, Mr. Stark." He purred, Anthony really couldn't have been closer to him without melding them into one body. "Do you normally look so god damn sexy?"

Anthony collapsed against him, giggling like a school boy. He could feel the waves of his laughter deep inside his chest, booming along with his heartbeat. And really, Loki's beginning to wonder exactly what this night is moving towards. Because, they haven't had sex yet. And he's pretty sure Anthony has never been without sex this long. And really, it's been two years for Loki and right now his sex drive and sexual frustration has reached some sort of vicious zenith that's hitting him real hard right about now.

"Here you boys go." Two drinks were placed in front of them. "Two Irish Trash Cans." The man shook his head and walked away.

Loki looked at the drink suspiciously. "What's in this?" He sniffed it, immediately squinting at the strong smell of alcohol assaulting his nose.

Anthony grinned. "A lot of alcohol." He giggled. "And red bull."

Loki sighed, "Cheers, Anthony." And, since he was being, you know, crazy tonight- or something- he gulped down a full sip of the drink. Squinting? More like squeezing his eyes shut and wondering why the hell he had started drinking again.

Alcohol? More like nail polish remover.

"Am I going to die?" He rasped, coughing and trying to figure out if he had been poisoned, or if there really was that much alcohol in the world.

"No, darling. Burns a little, doesn't it?" A nuzzling kiss that smelled like liquor and cayenne and science touched his lips.

"A little." The sarcastic tone in his voice made Stark grin against his mouth.

More kisses that, in any other moment, would have Loki's face on fire. But right now, when he's drunk and Anthony is in the general vicinity, and there's too many hormones floating around for anyone to ignore- Loki's just peachy. I mean, sure, he hasn't been this drunk in a good long time, and sure, he's gonna regret getting this drunk in the morning; but right now, he doesn't care if the world collapses in on itself in the morning. Right now, everything is perfect.

"I want you." The words are whispered in his ear, with warm lips kissing right under his ear in that soft place that no one ever really remembers or thinks about until someone's lips are there and it's fucking erotic and seductive and way too hot for anyone to ever forget it.

"You have me." He murmured, letting himself be pulled between Stark's legs, standing with his arms around Anthony's neck and a smile on his lips and his eyes so connected with Anthony's that there must have been a magnet pulling them closer and closer with each passing second.

"No, I mean, I want you." And the look in Anthony's eyes left absolutely no question as to exactly what he meant. Loki had never seen so much lust and love in one person's expression.

"Let's get out of here." He whispered, falling into that unfathomable look that promised love and affection Loki couldn't begin to comprehend.

Loki couldn't say he'd never been seduced before, but he can say without a shadow of a doubt, that he never wants to be seduced by anyone other than Anthony Stark ever again.

Tony pushed Loki against the door, kissing him in the hallway and losing his fucking mind for the nth time tonight. His skin has never been so on fire, so sensitive to every feather-light touch from spindly fingers that make his mind go wild. All he wants is Loki, Loki, Loki, Loki. The name is on repeat in his mind like a broken record. Loki is all he can think, feel, desire, lust after. Girls? Vagina? Do these things exist? Do these things have meaning? Should he remember what they are?

Loki has wiped women off the planet.

His hands tangle themselves in inky curls, wrapping the raven tresses around his fingers tightly and lustfully. Loki's hands are gripping his shirt desperately, like Tony is all he needs, all he wants, like Tony means just as much to him as Loki means to Tony. And Tony can't believe that's true, that anyone could need him like he needs Loki, that a soul could ever feel so much desire for a human being as he feels for Loki. Because there's something undesirable about him, something dirty, something soiled, something a little tainted. But the boy in his arms, moving his mouth with Tony's, and holding Tony like he'll never let go, is pure and untarnished and unstained and untouched. And he knows exactly what Loki's been through, and the trauma he's endured at the hands of another, but tonight, Tony is going to erase all of that. He's going to prove to Loki that love is gentle and kind and soft. And it won't hurt him. Tony is going to give Loki a reason to trust him.

He fumblingly finds the doorknob, twisting the key and pushing the snowy-skinned, inky-haired, skinny teenager back into the apartment, hands possessive around Loki's hips, bracketing him tightly in between his fingers. He reaches behind him, shoving the door closed, and walking Loki backward towards his room. The apartment is dark as fuck and they trip and stumble and catch each other over pieces of clothing and wayward furniture and a few discarded beer bottles and chip bags and an empty pizza box.

By the time they get to Tony's bed, they're breathing each other's air and tugging on clothing and Tony's whispering nonsense in Loki's ear and he really can't think straight any longer. They fall together, bouncing once on the springy mattress, the blankets tangled up beneath them. Loki's mouth moves lazily with his, and their fingers twine together, Tony pushing Loki's hands down on the bed. It's hot, and all Tony wants is for their clothes to disappear and everything to be shoved into that buck-naked, summertime heat that turns everything into love and tenderness and passion. All he can think about is getting off the clothes that are separating them, about removing every obstacle between them- even if he knows its a lot more than just pieces of fabric. And there are so many trust issues in this moment for them both, crowding about the room like voyeuristic spectators. But they're ignored for the far more fascinating view of each other. Loki and Tony.

Loki and Tony are all that exists.

There's no air.

There's no sun.

There's no moon.

There are no stars.

There are no people.

There are no parents.

There is no family.

Loki and Tony alone.

Tony tugs at Loki's shirt, sitting back and helping him pull it off. Then Tony sheds his shirt, falling back into an embrace that is imprinted on his skin forever, feeling fingers trace his arc reactor lovingly. "You're so beautiful." It's all he can think, all he can see. The beauty of Loki, of Loki's person, his mind, his soul. It's all so flawed and torn and stitched together and patched up. There are scars all across his body, dancing across the white skin of his arms and ribs. He wants to kiss each one, to promise love towards every mark Loki has ever made on his skin or has ever been made for him. He wants to wash away all the pain in those swaths of skin. So he does. He kisses each and every one, listening to Loki's ragged breathing and telling him over and over again that he loves him, that he's perfect, that he's the most beautiful thing Tony's ever seen.

"Come here." Loki pulls his head back up to him, connecting their lips and running his hands down Tony's chest and abdomen, toying with the buttons on his jeans. But, he pulls back, a question in his eyes.

A question Tony answers with a resounding yes.

The summertime heat arrives when their pants are on the floor and Loki's panting and his eyes are blown and connected with Tony's. Two pure white legs are draped over Tony's shoulders. He grips the sheets in one hand, curls his fingers in Loki's hair in the other. Then they're kissing and everything is getting faster and hotter and Tony can barely think. He wraps his hand around Loki's cock, keeping tempo with his own thrusts.

Tony's never seen any one so breathtaking in his arms before. Literally, Tony almost couldn't breathe. Stars were starting to explode in front of his eyes and everything was getting a little white around the edges and Loki was moaning and breathing his name in the most yearning and seductive voice Tony could ever remember hearing.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Anthony." Loki's back arched and Tony pressed their lips together and felt long eyelashes flutter against his cheek when Loki gasped into his mouth.

Tony's fingers dug into the mattress and something wet spread across his hand the same time he hit his climax and the world exploded into something that blurred the edges and made the horizons dance and made Loki thrum with so much energy and sinew and pure skin that he couldn't take his eyes off him.

In mere seconds, Loki felt boneless in his hands and he fell onto the bed beside him, panting and trying to calm his heart. Loki's legs were still sprawled across him, and his skin felt like fire against him, but it was perfectly warm and everything was heavy and dense and hazy. He was sleepy and Loki smelled too good, so he wrapped his arm around the being beside him that smelled of evergreen and winter and eucalyptus and mint and lavender and love. This being turned into a kitten, curling into him and rubbing his nose against Tony's collarbone and practically purring under his fingers running up and down Loki's spine. Tony pulled him tight in his arms, murmuring sweet words he'd never heard but always wanted to say, pressing kisses against Loki's neck like he wanted to show him love in it's most tangible form, to press it into Loki's skin so he could carry it with him forever.

"You have no idea how wonderful you are, Anthony." Loki murmured, groggy and halfway asleep, his verdant eyes closed and his lips bitten red and his skin like paper that had love written all across it in kisses and bites and soft touches. Tony saw his signature in the crook of Loki's neck and jaw.

Sleepy and sloppy, they kissed goodnight. Then Loki's face pushed against his shoulder, and his hair fanned across his white back and Tony's tanned chest, and his fingers curled around the other side of Tony's neck, a warm embrace that spread throughout him like sunshine.

His eyes closed of their own accord, and he and Loki fell asleep, tangled in each other, naked and warmer than an Indian summer. The stars kept watch, the moon smiled crookedly, and the alcohol thrummed softly in their bodies. In every tragedy, there is love.

Loki woke up, smiling. Sex was heavy in the air, laying over them like a blanket. Outside, grey light was just starting to awake, opening it's eyes to a world unchanged. But something had changed in Loki's orbit. Something very perfect had happened. Finally.

He curled closer into Stark's body heat, pulling a blanket over and around them. Anthony's arms wrapped around him tightly, subconsciously willing him to stay in bed, to stay together. It was too perfect to leave. It was Sunday. All he wanted was to stay in bed with his lover forever, to never leave this euphoric bubble where there was no tragedy or trauma, where love was a thing that held you close and promised to love you. Here, everything was gentle and tender and loving. Nothing was harsh or beaten or broken. Loki loved this place, this moment, this notion that he could be safe. Not for the first time, Anthony changed the game.

And yeah, there was a little ache in his back, and the muscles in his legs pulled in complaint, and his head was starting to feel heavy with a headache and in his stomach, alcohol roiled angrily. But it was okay, because he could bury himself in Anthony's arms and a warm blanket and complete nakedness, and forget that there was pain and that reality would catch up eventually. Right now, he was living in a fairytale world where trust and love and happiness existed.

God help whoever shattered that world.

Tony stretched, groaning when his muscles tugged against each other with that good ache that came after a fantastic night. All he could feel was Loki and the lazy aftereffects of love that made him want to just sleep with his lover for the rest of eternity. And since it was Sunday, he could. He would.

But his god damn phone was buzzing.

And come to think of it, that was what had awoken him. With a groan, he considered just turning it off and forgetting people existed for another 24 hours. In his arms, it seemed Loki had already done that, eyes closed and long raven lashes throwing feathery shadows over his pale cheekbones. A perfect smile adorned his face softly. Tony traced it with a fingertip, imprinting the feel of it on his heart for eternity.

Then he looked at his phone.

14 missed calls from Obadiah. A feeling of dread started in Tony's chest. It began to ring again, and this time he answered. "What's wrong?" There was a shake in his quiet voice, careful not to wake Loki.

"Tony, your dad's had a heart attack."

A/N: Whoop. Sex. Yeah. Um, it's my first 'scene'. So, don't be too harsh. I'm sure it's a little rough haha. BUT REVIEW. Tell me how terrible it is (be gentle, I beg of you.). And about the alcohol thing, um. I've never had anything really strong (yet), so don't judge me if I got all of that totally wrong.

But, SEX.

And it's longer.

And I love you all.

And I'm sorry.

REVIEWWWW, pwease?

xoxox, Rayn.