For a long moment he stands, outside his door, sure he's awake because he'd asked Jarvis. It's three in the morning and Pepper was deep in sleep when he'd slipped from the sheets that in for hours he'd stirred restless. Tired and thinking and sure, so sure he wants to wake her and tell her tell her the truth – do what he should've long ago because, who were they kidding they barely function – they're too different they don't talk and he's too difficult and hectic – reasons many that maybe they could work on and have tried and failed and can try again, but is it worth it? It cannot be because if there's one thing he can't fix can't change, and doesn't want to, it's how Loki'd rooted in his heart so deeply,
the Loki he's near always in vicinity of, calls or texts when he's not. They'd stay up till dawn watching movies or idling in the lab and Loki has this surprisingly stretched span of tolerance for not the loudest of ruckus Tony can sound as he works deters him, he'd just pull up his earphones and scroll through his phone or read, lounging on the sofa leisurely like some large house-cat, obsessed with tea and wine and chocolates. His input Tony always makes use of, and when Loki's bored and out for his attention one way or the other he gets it, he's of the few that can he's subtle and sly, and of the smartest Tony's ever known. When Loki's feeling generous he tells him, of his Seidr and its inner-workings, of stories and adventures ridiculous and incredible, that they're real more than anything. He has a talent for following whatever Tony's rambling on that makes the latter ecstatic, and because they trust Loki with no one other than himself they partner up in battles, move seamless together watch each other's back he trusts Loki with his life,
he's thought and dreamed of Loki more than of anything else in those long three days.
His heart leaps when of its own accord the door swings open, and Loki's in bed sat up with his phone, smirking asked: "Is there something in particular you want or is staring at my door some new fun activity?" Tony's receptive to the humor always, smiles and steps in, slight apprehension in his voice Loki senses:
"Just uh, wanted to thank you, for. You know." Loki gives him a look.
"Unnecessary," he waved off. Tony found it rather necessary. He couldn't put in words how necessary. He'd come completely undone in a way he hadn't before another living being in forever, since he was child. And Loki just.
Stayed.
Loki…he knows he cares Loki shows it often, like in the way he asks softly: "What's troubling you?" and Tony looks up from where he'd absently been brushing at the sheets, Loki's expression dulled: "Tell me it's not Barton's remarks."
"No," he answers too quickly, pulls a face incredulous hand swatting. "Course not," as he settles on the side of the bed. "I'm okay. Are you?" For a beat Loki doesn't look like he'll drop it, before a sole nod and Tony adds: "Thor said it took a lot out of you, healing me," quieter, and it'd disquieted him because it wasn't enough how he'd let himself fall in the god's arms who'd had to hold him up, for however long it'd been but Loki'd worn himself at his expense so that Thor'd said he'd likely sleep the whole day. And that's saying something because he and Loki avoid sleep like the plague.
"…Worth it," is Loki's answer an answer he knows not what to make of but it, warms him, the affinity in those eyes now showing freely makes him yearn, yearn to scoot closer and- "Trouble sleeping?" Loki adds. He smiles faintly.
"You know it."
"Stay then," he looks back at the phone still loose in his hand.
"…Should we, head to the lab?"
"No it's more comfortable here," Loki says not making eye-contact. "And you need to rest. I, healed surface wounds but you are worn and you must rest." Tony's smile thoughtless stretched, he points out:
"So should you."
"I am," the covers uncurl from underneath Tony's thigh, making room. Not looking from his phone still Loki pats the spot next to him. Stunned for a beat Tony does not assess the situation rather promptly inclines shifting closer and the sheets drape gentle over, up to his torso.
"What are you doing?" Tony asks in way to converse deny the weight of the moment.
"Surfing."
"Boring."
"Quite."
"Loki."
"What?" Tony plucks the phone away, and Loki gives him amused attention, that now he's unsure what to do with. He just…
"…Tell me."
"Tell you what?"
Tony swallows, eyes declining voice lowers.
"Tell me I'm not crazy," looks up and, it should surprise him, the level of understanding in Loki's eyes, before they resolve in a way, and he says:
"…I can tell you, how weary I am of pretending." Tony's heart skips. "I can tell you, that I don't share and that you'd best think carefully on what you want," closer leaned pinched lightly the Stark's chin. "Because if you choose this, there's no retreat because I will not leave you. No matter if you tire from me Anthony I will be right, here," such words should confine him in a manner distasteful, yet the softness and care brimming Loki's eyes floods him in warmth, the way he strokes a thumb along his jaw and whispers: "Ensuring that shimmer in your eyes remains live, and tarnishing any who dare faze it. Tell me you understand that." Hardly can he think let alone process, just tilts closer their foreheads press, and Tony grips at him clutched his collar his breath trembling.
"Can I stay?" he asks. Loki nods against him.
"Yes. Stay." The lights go off and Loki guides him to lie, gathers him in arms and the relief he feels at being back here, like he belongs here, in the God of Mischief's solid, loving, possessive embrace.