Well, it was just like Thor said.
For the next few days, Loki slept more than ever, the difference being that, mostly, he stayed in his and Tony's bed. In the early morning hours, when Tony finally left his lab and made his way to his bedroom, Loki would sleepily greet him, curling up against him and sighing contentedly—no more scooting away and disappearing. That alone was enough for Tony. It gave him a sense of peace, knowing that while Loki was temporarily a bit of a zombie, at least he wasn't suffering anymore. Plus, it gave him hope that Loki would soon be back to his old self.
And, while at first Loki felt as if he he were swimming through mud, weirdly disassociated from his surroundings (and even his own body), he gradually found himself smiling again. The movements inside him—the slithery feeling of his baby twisting and turning, the nudges, the kicks—these made him grin, and he often engaged in little conversations with the fetus: "My, we're on a tear today, aren't we? Settle down, little one, Daddy wants to sleep," and "Love, do you suppose you might find a corner of my innards to abuse besides my bladder? I do believe I've worn a path to the toilet with this incessant peeing," and "How nice of you to attempt to kick my ribs back into place, after having dislocated that one so many times. Very considerate, indeed."
But, he didn't really mind.
His appetite was gone. Tony would bring his favorite foods, taking a seat alongside him on the bed and cajoling him to eat little bites from his fingers. The food didn't sit so well at first, but eventually real hunger crept up on Loki and drove him to the kitchen in search of snacks. At that, Tony rejoiced. The night Loki requested a pizza was cause for wild celebration, and when, to Tony's surprise, Loki readily agreed to have Bruce and Pepper join them for dinner, he felt like they'd just scaled a mountain.
Yeah, Tony thought as Loki stared at his barely-touched pizza slice, it was going to take a while. But then Loki took a deep breath, picked up the slice, and gamely took one more bite.
It was definitely not going to happen overnight, but...
Loki was getting there.
As the days went by, Loki became more alert and less content to lie in a useless lump on the bed. Soon, he took to prowling around the penthouse, and while the weight of his body seemed to drag at him, he couldn't bear to sit still for long. He couldn't quite pinpoint what it was that compelled him (although he knew it was more than just restlessness), but he often found himself slipping wraithlike from room to room, vaguely aware that he was looking for something.
One day, he paused in front of the bedroom next to his and Tony's. He stood motionless for a long time, but finally opened the door and peered inside. It was a large never-used room, with unpleasantly crisp white walls and a boring light fixture in the ceiling, but there was a huge picture window and the hardwood floor was inviting and homey.
Loki stepped in and turned slowly in a circle, letting the feel of the room wash over him. He envisioned a thick wooly rug, soft-hued paint, and warm light from a whimsical chandelier. Nice heavy curtains to block out the city at night, a crib in one corner, a dresser and changing table in the other, and a big comfortable rocking chair in the middle. There was plenty of room for bookshelves and a toy chest, with space in the floor for rolling around and playing. Perhaps Tony would agree to knock out an opening between this room and theirs; they could always put in a door when the creature, no, the child, grew old enough to crave privacy. Or, when he and Tony did, ha. Loki's grin deepened, and he nodded to himself as he felt his unnamed craving ease.
It wasn't a royal chamber, but it was a nice enough room.
It would do.
Let's face it, Tony was horny.
The day he'd grasped, horrified, that Loki was participating in sex only to please him, all contact between their nether regions ended. At that point, Tony offered—and asked for—nothing more than an occasional hug or cuddle. But, for those long, bad weeks of his illness, Loki had politely declined even that, leaving Tony feeling profoundly alone, even on the nights that Loki was able to relax enough to sleep beside him.
Now, slowly, Loki was welcoming him back into his arms. For Tony, every little step was exciting—the feeling of his mate's body next to his, the cool skin, the regular breaths, the pulse throbbing beneath the surface. It was heaven being close enough to hear his heart beat, to breathe in the scent of his hair, to know that the strange, awful presence that was Loki's illness was finally going away.
Still, Tony didn't push. He didn't touch Loki below the waist and he limited kisses to brushes over his forehead and chaste pecks on the cheek, even though his cock throbbed hopefully and his balls ached, and he felt like he did when he was eight years old and his Red Ryder BB gun jammed.
In other words, his sex life continued to suck, and not in a good way.
It was funny how patient he was being, though. That wasn't like him. Back when he was with Pepper and she'd irritably wave him away, pleading exhaustion due to Tony's congenital state of idiocy, he'd argue. Not his best moments, and he'd like to think he'd learned something since then, but in those days, he'd blow up in frustration and slam the door behind him before settling on the couch with some lube and a wash cloth, intent on pleasuring himself to his heart's content, guilt-free.
But, now, that solo thing... He hardly bothered to do even that. Maybe he was old, or maybe he didn't have the heart to jack off, knowing that Loki was miserable. Or maybe he was content to wait until things got better, because when he was with Loki, "right now" was good enough, even if it was hard, even if things were kind of shitty between them. Besides, when the day came that Loki was back to normal, Tony planned to give him the good, solid pounding he owed him. He figured this slow burn, this building up to that extra bit of oomph that came from a long stretch of orgasm denial, wouldn't hurt.
So, he was patient, and he quietly reveled in the beating of Loki's heart.
Things did get better, though.
Loki's grins came more frequently. Here and there, he made a derisive joke at Tony's expense. He ate. And, one night, he snuggled into Tony's arms, ground his hips against him, and kissed him. Tony pulled out of the long, lingering moment to look Loki in the eye. He saw none of the troubling vacancy he'd almost gotten used to seeing there. Instead, he saw mischief and fire, and Loki's grin took on the delightfully wicked quality that always got Tony to thinking about clothes coming off, and nuzzling, and the fun of putting-things-inside-of-other-things that Loki so excelled at.
"Babe?" he asked. "Are you—"
"I want you, Tony," Loki answered in a gravelly voice. "It's been so long."
"Ye-a-hhh... But, are you sure? I mean, you're not doing this just for me, right?"
Loki stared at him. "Hardly. I'm a selfish bastard, remember? This is very much for me. If it happens to benefit you as well, well—so be it."
"Baby, it would benefit the everlovin' hell out of me."
"Good." Loki rolled on his back, draped an arm languidly above his head, and pulled a knee up invitingly. "So, I take it you're game, dear mortal?"
Tony was so happy and relieved, he laughed out loud. "Game? Are you kidding? I'm on it!" He clambered onto Loki and smooshed their mouths together in an inelegant attack that would do any teenage Lothario proud. He managed to unzip his jeans while at the same time helping Loki wriggle out of the stretchy sleep pants that now barely covered his pregnant tummy. Tony fumbled for lube and started to prepare Loki, only to be struck in the heart when Loki yelped, "Wait!"
But he was beyond grateful to learn that Loki only wanted to shift to his Jotunn form.
From there? Yeah, things got a whole lot better.
They eagerly rubbed their dicks together and laughed between sloppy kisses. They licked and sucked, they nibbled and bit, and they ended up with Tony grasping Loki in a fierce embrace, rocking into him like it was 1986, the year Tony joyfully lost his virginity in the back seat of a black '56 Pontiac.
Loki groaned and yowled, left scratches down Tony's back and teeth marks on his neck. He planted his heels and slammed up to take him deeper. He cursed and moaned and rasped Tony's name, and, wrecked, he finally came in a deep long shudder, hard enough to stop time.
It didn't take Tony long after that; feeling Loki's snug quim tighten and spasm around him put him over the edge, and he rammed into Loki until he filled him with all the gleeful little sperm that had been obediently biding their time for so many desolate weeks.
Afterwards, they lay there, breaths coming in gasps, until Loki turned to wrap himself around Tony like a vine around a tree. Tony tucked him into the empty space beside him, pulled the covers over them, and they fell asleep without a word.
In the morning, Tony woke to see Loki glaring at him, wide awake and resentful, from his nest in Tony's side. "I'm hungry," he snapped, as if this were somehow Tony's fault. "Feed me this instant."
Tony was groggy, but he sat up, chuckling. "Okay, babe, sure—anything you want."
"Blueberry pancakes. Fluffy. With lots of butter and syrup. Now."
"All right, all right. I think I can remember how to make pancakes—"
Loki rolled his eyes. "No, no, no. Take me out. Somewhere expensive, where they'll follow my instructions and not pretend that charred edges are a proper part of the meal."
Tony came to full alertness, blinking at Loki. "You want to go out?"
"Yes. Oh, and it had better be some place elegant, too. I want to wear that black velvet tunic with the green cuffs and collar, which, by the way, is most certainly not a maternity shirt." He struggled into a sitting position, rueing how awkward his belly made such simple movements. "I like the way it feels. And, it really brings out my eyes." He paused a moment, considering Tony with a calculating squint. "And, I'll bet it'll make you horny as hell. Your dick'll swell and I'll get to watch you squirm in your chair, with nothing to be done about it until we get home. It will be delightful." He smirked with satisfaction.
Tony grinned. "Oh, you think so? Challenge accepted, Lancelot."
And, as he was getting a blow job in the men's room stall of the Ritz-Carlton's extremely elegant and expensive bistro, it occurred to Tony that Loki was just about back to his old self.
Loki sat curled up in Tony's desk chair, pecking at the keys of Tony's laptop and frowning. Tony was sprawled on the office couch, ostensibly going through the much-overdue contracts that Pepper had washed her hands of, but he was actually puzzling over a new feature he wanted to add to his suit. His free fall to earth from space still rumbled through his dreams, and he was determined to create an emergency reserve of power that wouldn't add a lot of weight to the suit. He sincerely hoped he'd never need it, but it didn't hurt to be prepared.
"Tony," came a rather indignant voice. "Did you know they just recalled an Ikea baby swing? Apparently, the suspension fittings can break, posing a risk of serious injury."
"Really? That's interesting," Tony murmured, not finding it interesting at all.
"Yes, there have been four reports of this happening so far."
"Huh."
Loki looked up from the computer screen. "A child fractured his leg!"
"Oh. Well, that's bad."
"Of course it's bad, you nitwit." Something in Loki's tone told Tony he'd better pay attention. Something else... a word... told him he should really pay attention, but what was it? A word, Loki said a word, and—oh. Oh.
Tony's head jerked up like a prairie dog. "Did you say 'baby swing?'"
Loki shot him an exasperated look. "I did."
Tony jumped up, scattering papers all over the couch, and zipped to Loki's side. He peered down at the screen to see a picture of the offending product and then he looked at Loki. "Are you... planning? For the baby?"
"Well, somebody has to," Loki said with a sniff. "You certainly haven't shown any interest."
"Interest? Loki, I..." I've been so damned worried about you, when did I have time to coo over baby swings? he thought, but knew better than to say. "I'm sorry, kiddo. Things have been kind of busy in the lab, you know. But, that's it, that's over." He knelt, propping his elbow on the arm of Loki's chair. "From now on, it's baby time, all the way." He looked at Loki in wonder, brushed a strand of hair behind his ear and then glanced back at the laptop screen. Loki had about a million tabs open.
"So, what's on the menu for baby Stark?"
Loki's sulky expression faded and he clicked through several pages. "I'm thinking we do the room in deep chocolate browns and soft greens. Those are gender-neutral tones, aren't they? Although, I can't believe you Midgardians assign a gender to colors, how asinine. In the halls of the Aesir, the nurseries are gold, with ruby-colored draperies of the finest silk. Preparation for the child to take its place among the gods." He cast a reproving glance at Tony. "You won't find pink rabbits or denim-clad clowns there." He was quiet for a moment, and it struck Tony that Loki was a little homesick.
"Brown and green look good together, babe, great choice. What else?"
Loki clicked the mouse. "I want a jungle theme. Giraffes, tigers—oh, and elephants. Definitely elephants, don't you think? They're so friendly."
"Sure. Maybe throw in a few Asgardian critters, too."
"Ugh, no."
"Why not? Don't you have friendly animals on Asgard?"
"A few. But, most of them are vicious beasts. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it seems Midgardians frown on battling animals as nursery themes."
Tony grinned. "Since when do you care what Midgardians think about anything?"
"I don't, but as we're apparently going to have to raise the little bastard amongst them, I don't want him—or her—to feel at odds with other children."
"Good thinking."
Loki clicked back to the product recall page. "Look at this, Tony—page after page of defective contraptions for infants. It's outrageous, what sort of evil craftsmen does Midgard employ? Who would dare to create products that kill and maim the very creatures they purport to serve?" he wondered. "Surely their numbers must swell the prison population. On Asgard, such deviltry would be met with torture and death, but of course, you humans tend to pussyfoot around on matters of justice. I suppose that's a good thing, or I most likely wouldn't be here, but still."
"Well, they make this stuff in factories, babe. I don't think you could pin it on any one person."
Loki shook his head gravely. "If such a device ever harmed a child of mine, I'd identify the perpetrator in short order. I'd string him up by his entrails." The vicious tone in Loki's voice caught Tony off-guard. He hadn't seen that side of Loki in a very long time. He gingerly patted Loki's arm.
"Aw, don't worry. We'll make sure everything's safe. I'll inspect it all myself." A thoughtful look came over him, and then he brightened. "All this stuff's lame, anyway. You want a baby swing? I bet I can invent a really cool one. Seat warmer, cup holder, variable speed settings that'll automatically adjust to the kid's emotional state—ooo, and a dirty diaper sensor! I can put the alert on the remote so the noise won't wake the baby, and—" He stopped short, his eyes wide. "Top notch built-in Bose speakers, streaming audio! Oh, man, this is gonna be fun!" A maniacal grin transformed his face and for the first time since Loki's illness, the old Stark cockiness came shining through. "I'm going to run down to the lab and made some sketches—want to come?"
Loki was staring at him with a slightly horrified look, but he gave Tony a wry smile at the invitation. "I expect I'd better. Don't want you putting jet thrusters on the damned thing."
"Aw, not on a baby swing! Wait'll I work up a design for a tricycle, though."
Tony sprang up and strode toward the door, and Loki heaved himself up to follow.
He wondered how normal people prepared for a baby's arrival.