WARNINGS:

1. There is implied sort-of-kind-of MalexMale sexy times in this chapter. If that is not your thing, then I suggest you don't read this chapter. Even if it is, I will reiterate that this only implied, and if you read on, you will see that it's kind of... not, as well.

2. This chapter is disappointingly short, as most of the chapters in Great Expectations will likely be. I like keeping things short, sharp and to the point, which means that I skip a lot of scenes that would normally be included, meaning it's up to you to fill in the gaps and silences. If you're confused by something that I haven't mentioned, feel free to PM or leave a review and I'll be happy to fill you in.

Would also like to cover timelines here. As of this chapter, the events of Thor 2 has just ended, as have Agents of SHIELD: The Well (rest assured that it's not essential to have seen this series though). I live in denial about the events of Ironman 3, so whilst I might reference some events from it, for the most part my characters will act as though it had never existed. Furthermore Tony/Pepper are not a couple. Because I don't like it.

Now that I have those things covered, we can get on with the good stuff. Enjoy!

Cinna

Part One: Great Expectations

Chapter Two: Rude Awakenings (Or according to Tony Stark, Nude Awakenings)

Tony Stark liked to think of himself as a smart man.

Okay… so really he liked to think of himself as a genius; the brightest of his age, in fact. He'd built on his father's company with top of the range inventions- first with weapons, and later, after his adventure in Afghanistan, cutting edge developments in clean energy. A great number of which were his own inventions.

Hell, he was the fucking Ironman.

Given his distinguished (and admittedly obnoxious) intellect, it was therefore quite obvious that he would pride himself on his memory; infallible, he often claimed, even when blind drunk. Which, to be fair, was quite often now. And really, who could blame him? He'd seen some messed up shit in his years- God he'd almost fucking died in the battle of New York- not to mention that time before that with the arc-reactor. It was all enough to send anyone 'round the bend, and, well, Tony had always had an inclination to be a lush.

But I digress.

Tony Stark prided himself on his impeccable memory. He could rely upon it come rain, hail or shine. Hangover or no hangover.

Which was why he was quite surprised to find a distinctly male arm lying across his chest at four a.m. on a Sunday morning.

Because he could have sworn he'd taken a woman to bed last night ( legs that ran forever, hair black as night and green eyes as bright as his arc reactor… sounded about right).

"Jarvis." He croaks, feeling distinctly not good- Jesus how much did I drink last night?

"Yes sir?' comes the mercifully quiet reply. Godbless Jarvis, ever the considerate one. The man sprawled across his bed doesn't even stir.

"What happened last night?"

An uncharacteristic pause, then; "You took a Miss Eventide to bed sir." This does not help him, not one bit. Tony retracts the blessing of his glorious creation. He thinks back to the night previously. He'd picked up Laila from one of his usual haunts… taken her home… had multiple bouts of mind-numbingly good sex and passed out at some time around 2:30.

Not that this helps, because that is very obviously a man lying in his bed, lying on his stomach, head turned away from him. There is something missing from this story.

"So why is the she now a he?"

Another pause. This is becoming quite disconcerting.

"I don't know sir." Nope, definitely not liking where this is going, "There are some strange energy readings coming off your companion however sir."

"Strange how?"

A slight hesitation as Jarvis accesses his databanks, "They are quite similar to the energy readings recorded from Loki."

"… Jarvis get the suit ready."

Slowly, carefully, Tony begins to extricate himself from the bed, trying his hardest not to wake the woman-come-man who may or may not be Loki. His sensor bracelets are blessedly still on his bedside table and a pair of boxers lie in the corner of the room. He slips them on as he moves silently (or at least, as silently as he can) to the door and freedom.

His chances of a quick and bloodless escape are dashed when the man on his bed stirs awake.

"Stark?" comes the muffled voice, and oh God but he'd recognise that voice anywhere, "Fuck. What's the time?" Loki groans into the pillow, rolling over. His lower half is mercifully entangled in Tony's sheets. His movement alerts him to the light of Tony's arc reactor, which glows like a fucking beacon in the darkened room.

Tony is suddenly struck by the hilarity of this situation; they are both quite naked… well, Loki more than Tony now, but that was entirely beside the point. He suddenly feels very vulnerable. Generally Tony Stark has no issue with walking around in his birthday suit. Unfortunately, generally does not include being starkers in the presence of the man who tried to take over the world… who is also naked… whom he may or may not have sex with.

"Loki." He manages to croak out, fighting the urge to burst into hysterics- he is so, so dead.

"Stark." The God-slash-villain sits up, resting on his elbows. The sheets pool in his terrifyingly close to his lap. Tony does his very best at not looking down.

"You were a woman." Tony points out, unable to really say anything more; there are too many circuits shorting out in his brain.

Loki smirks, unashamedly. Tony has the strongest urge to hit him with a chair.

"I was."

"I had sex with you." Loki looks like he wants to start laughing. He wants to hit him even more, right in his pretty face.

"You did." A silence stretches out as Tony inwardly panics. Loki sits up properly and the sheet sinks even lower.

"For a self-proclaimed genius, I'm feeling rather unimpressed by your conversational skills." He sighs in an almost disappointed fashion, "And I had such great expectations of you."

"Why?" Tony finally manages to gasp, still stuck on Loki's previous statement. Fortunately the fallen god takes the hint. He leans back against the headboard, acting for all the world as if it were his bed he was sitting naked in.

"I was curious. And bored… mostly bored."

Tony can do nothing but let out an unmanly squeak, absolutely bewildered by this turn of events.

"So you chose to have sex with me? As a woman?!"

Loki just shrugs, pinning him down with a look that screams Please, I am a god, I do what I want.

It is at this point that Tony decides he has had enough of this situation. He turns as if to leave the room.

And promptly faints.

A/N: I find it unlikely that a society of beings who are blessed with extreme longevity and a naturally low population growth rate would end up being homophobic. Especially given the Asgardian's level of technological advancement. It would be ludicrous for one to assume that homosexuality is not an acceptable practice.

And I mean, come on. Loki. He is the trickster God. I wouldn't be alone in saying that something like this would be vanilla ice-cream compared to some of the other shenanigans he's likely to get up to.

Seriously; Sleipnir. Need I say more?

Reviews are precious to me.