A/N: Small caution—this chapter contains what MIGHT be considered triggering, a bit of reluctant consent. Just wanted to make note in case anyone is sensitive to that.

For a few days after the healing ritual, Loki did little other than sleep. Tony didn't mind; he understood, or thought he understood—Loki had been through one trauma after another, and was probably running on empty by now.

Tony missed him, though, missed having him nearby. He kept turning around to say something to him before remembering Loki was off snoozing somewhere, in the bedroom or on a couch, or... He kept wanting to touch him, smell him—not that he couldn't. It just meant he had to find him first, and it was amazing how Loki could wad himself up into a ball and fit into unlikely places, places that he seemed to choose specifically in order not to be found.

All part of the re-charging process, Tony supposed. He tried not to take it personally.

But, it wasn't only that. Tony missed doing things they hadn't even done yet. He wanted to take his trickster on long walks in the park, take him to the zoo. Take him to his fave restaurants, the ones where no one would recognize either of them, and no one would give a shit if they did. He wanted to take him to the really cool clubs, to see the best shows. He wanted to, you know, show Loki Tony Stark's Manhattan.

But Loki kept politely declining to go out. He also declined to see anyone who might come over, and Tony soon learned that Loki didn't need magic to disappear.

Yeah, it felt like they'd just begun to have a normal life together, only to have a big old wet blanket drop down on them in the form of the remnants of Loki's past bad behavior. But Tony knew they'd pick up where they'd left off, eventually. For now, he could totally see how Loki might need to just check out for a little while, and he resolved to be patient. He had plenty to do in his lab, and he had been a teeny bit neglectful of Stark Enterprises—wouldn't hurt to catch up on some emails and return a few phone calls while he waited for his space alien mischief-god to get his head together.

But, a few days became a week, and a week became a month, and it felt like Loki's naps were interrupted only by demands for food and an occasional viewing of The Beverly Hillbillies.

It finally occurred to Tony that, maybe, he ought to be getting worried.

"You're turning into a cat," Tony observed one afternoon, having emerged from his lab to answer a summons for a snack and (snidely) the pleasure of his company. He carried a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in one hand, and a large glass of milk in the other.

Loki was luxuriating on a chaise lounge by a window, the sun warming his back as he lay with his head propped up on one hand. A book was open under the other, and he turned a page before absently asking, "What do you mean?" Tony proffered the sandwich plate, but Loki gave a languid wave at the coffee table, not bothering to look up. Tony frowned as he set down the snack as directed.

"All you've done lately is sleep and pester me to fill your food bowl. That's okay, but just so you know? When you start demanding I dangle a string for you to bat at, that's going too far."

Now, Loki raised his eyes to meet Tony's. "I'm pregnant. Therefore, I shall do exactly as I please for as long as possible, and, in your role as the cur who knocked me up, it's your duty to feed and amuse me." He eyed the sandwiches with an air of suspicion. "Which, so far, has not been your strong suit. But I long for a bit of intellectual stimulation beyond vapid TV shows and the lurid pulp fiction that passes for literature around here, and you're all I've got."

"Intellectual stimulation, uh-huh. I'm kind of amazed you think I'm going to be able to help you with that."

"Oh, I don't think that at all. But, there're all kinds of stimulation, and I'm not picky." Loki winked and grinned teasingly. "Meow."

"See, I knew it, you're totally a cat." A burst of affection came over Tony, and he made Loki scoot over. He sat down in the space afforded him and pushed up Loki's shirt in order to rub his rounded belly. "Come on, Frisky. Purr for me."

Loki closed his eyes, enjoying Tony's touch. He arched his back, cat-like, and made a feline noise of satisfaction, which made Tony laugh. Loki then pulled himself into a sitting position. "For the most part, if this is a cat's life, I'm all for it. Perhaps I'll become one after the baby arrives. Yes, and I'll leave you to deal with infant care, at least until the damned creature becomes interesting."

"Oh, no you don't. I'll get Frigga to turn the baby into a kitten and it'll follow you around, mewing like a bad-ass."

A laugh turned into a huge yawn that overtook Loki's entire face. "That's not really her area, but you're welcome to try."

Tony regarded him for a moment, thinking how nice it had felt, rubbing the spot where his child dwelled under Loki's skin, causing it to stretch tautly over a firm baby-mound. He couldn't resist reaching over to cup the fullness of Loki's tummy. "Wow, babe, you're really getting big."

"Well, that's to be expected, isn't it?" Loki asked sourly. "Surely it's unnecessary to remark upon it all the time. Hand me a sandwich."

"It's right there!" Tony protested, gesturing at the plate located two feet away from Loki. But, given the foul look he got, Tony handed over the sandwich. "You're supposed to be getting exercise, you know. I guess reaching for food is a little too strenuous?"

"I want to be pampered, and I expect you to indulge me, not just remind me of how misshapen I've become." Loki wrangled himself around to lie on his back with his head in Tony's lap, and took a bite of sandwich. A grudging look of approval came over him. "Well, this is surprisingly delicious. What did you call it again?"

"PB and J. Speaking of naming things, have you given any more thought to what Tony Jr.'s middle name should be?"

Loki sighed. "In the first place, I'm not calling my child by my mate's name. It's too confusing, plus it would only go toward inflating your already insufferable ego. Secondly, it could very well be a girl, and while Antonia is a lovely name, it's almost inevitable that she'd end up being called 'Toni' with an 'i,' in which case, please refer back to reason number one."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine, but other than that, name-wise? We've got zip, as in nada, and I'd rather we hash this out while the kid's still just a bun in your oven, rather than letting his first memories be of you and me screaming over what goes on the birth certificate."

"Birth certificate," Loki sniffed, "Leave it to Midgard to insist upon a piece of paper to prove someone's been born."

"Yeah, yeah, we're a lame planet. Now, back to the main point here, I think—"

"Don't trouble yourself, I've already decided. Demetrius if it's a boy, Seraphina if it's a girl."

This time, Tony's eye-roll threatened to dislodge one or both eyeballs. "No fucking way."

"I suppose you've come up with something better?"

"I have." Tony held up his hands as if framing a picture. "Try these on for size: Frank if it's a boy. Francine if it's a girl."

Loki looked as if someone had scraped fingernails down a blackboard. "Oh, by the Nine, Stark—could you possibly come up with a more pedestrian and unremarkable selection?"

"What? Those are good names, what's wrong with 'em?"

"This is the progeny of a god! A king! And, somewhat less interestingly, a super hero! You'd fate it to the nickname 'Frankie?' Or, 'Frannie?' Ugh. Absolutely not."

"Hey, the key to naming a kid is to come up with something that won't get them beaten up in school. Frank's a good, solid name. No beating up likely."

"I should think being a blue-skinned half-breed would ensure a fair amount of beatings. The name is hardly going to improve his chances one way or the other."

"Okay, obviously we need to think on this some more."

"Later. I'm sleepy. I think I'll have a nap after I eat."

Shit. More sleep? This was getting ridiculous. "I thought you wanted 'intellectual stimulation.'" Tony made air quotes and wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously. He said it to keep Loki awake and engaged, but he found himself getting hard. He and Loki hadn't had a good round of hot sweaty monkey loving since the Jotunn contingency had left, and he was suddenly eager to take his boyfriend to bed.

Which wasn't what Loki was expecting at all. It seemed to him that Tony had been positively reveling in having a little uninterrupted time to himself, both in his lab and in his office. Loki had been certain that, after the forced snack-bringing, he'd surely want to hurry back to whatever he'd been doing. But the nudge swelling against his side told him otherwise, and his eyes widened as it suddenly occurred to him that his idle flirting really must have led Tony down the garden path toward intimacy. There was a time when he might have taken pleasure in mischievously leaving his lover frustrated and bewildered after building up his expectations, but now...

He managed to put a sensual tone in his voice. "Oh, yes. I just didn't realize you could be pulled away from your blasted laboratory so easily." He reached up and yanked Tony down for an upside-down kiss. "But how nice to know you're not entirely oblivious to opportunity."

"Hey, I don't miss out on opportunities. How'd you think I got to be Iron Man?"

"Good luck and a vast inheritance?" Loki asked brightly.

"Believe what you want. I don't care, as long as you make that cat sound again."

"What am I, a performing ape?"

Tony shrugged. "Performing kitty cat, maybe." He slid an arm around Loki's waist and hefted him so that he was left lying on his back as Tony stood up. He then bent down to kiss him. "You stay here, okay?"

"Where are you going?" Loki asked.

"Lube!" Tony said as he zipped off to their bedroom.

"Of course." Loki gave a resigned sigh.

"Feel free to go all Jotunn on me if you want!" Tony called, slamming a drawer shut.

"No, that's all right. Have me as I am." Loki wasn't exactly in a sexy mood. But when Tony returned, he hastily put on as wicked a smile as he could muster, noting that his genius philanthropist was wearing a bathrobe and nothing else. He braced himself for the onslaught, and it came in fast. Tony knelt next to the chaise and gathered Loki in his arms for a deep kiss. He lovingly laved and nipped along as he bared Loki's skin, and Loki made sure he stroked Tony's hair, raked nails down his back, and squeezed his ass through the flannel in as welcoming a manner as possible when he parted his legs for Tony to prepare him.

Before long, the god was lying underneath his lover, knees pressed high against Tony's ribs, being cheerfully pounded into the upholstery.

Which was fine.

Tony was annoyingly considerate, asking if Loki was okay, if this wouldn't hurt the baby (Of course not, idiot, Loki thought), and if what he was doing felt good.

Which it did.

It felt very nice, rather the way a hot shower feels good after a sweaty hike in the woods, or a lovely back rub feels good while you're watching a dull stupid movie, but of course Loki knew that wasn't the effect Tony was going for. So, he made a point of writhing around while moaning and keening and crying out with pleasure, yada yada yada, for the duration of Tony's exertions.

And soon, Tony came with a roar, and then collapsed happily on his back, drawing Loki in close. He lay there in utter satisfaction for several long moments before noticing that Loki hadn't, well...

"Wait a minute—holy shit! I didn't make you come, did I, babe?" Tony asked with concern.

"Ah... Um, well, not exactly, but it's fine! It was wonderful just the same. Exactly what I needed." Loki hastily turned his face away, scratching an imaginary itch on his neck. God of Lies, indeed.

"It's not fine, I wanted to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Come'ere, I'll suck you off, and—"

"No! I mean, no, that's all right. This was absolutely perfect." Loki fluidly sat up, pulled on his underwear and t-shirt, picked up the sleep pants that had become his usual attire (they didn't squeeze his belly) and then gave Tony a genuinely affectionate kiss. "Actually, I think I'll go lie down now. I really am a bit tired." He smiled and turned to head to the bedroom, still graceful in spite of his burgeoning tummy.

Tony watched him leave, brow furrowed. Now, that was just weird. He wanted to run and grab him, pin him against the wall and ask him what the hell was going on in his pretty, devious little head. Because Loki, God of Mischief, didn't have sex and fake orgasms just to make somebody feel good. Well, Tony didn't think he did, anyway. Or maybe he did it all the time, and was just better at it when he wasn't pregnant.

But Tony heard the bedroom door shut, and he decided he'd let him get Nap Number Three out of the way before he confronted him. He got up, dressed, and went back down to his lab, his face creased in puzzlement as he stepped into the elevator.