'Soulmates' AU; Tony Stark/Loki
Tony pushes his fingers into his eyelids and groans in his chair.
He thought he was done fighting windmills… but no. Apparently, there will always be a battle to be fought. Too bad this one means that all of the people he trusted to have his back turned against him.
In all fairness, it’s not all of them. But Natasha’s been distant ever since Bruce fucked off to Pakistan the second he heard the word government uttered at an increased frequency; Rhodey’s there only because Tony’s side happens to coincide with his army orders; Pep’s been busy running the company and staying the hell out of the whole conflict; and Tony can’t very well knock back a few and chill with the Vision. He’s not even going to think about T’Challa, who likely sided with Tony only because Steve’s got a vibranium shield and the Panther always eyes that thing like it was made out of his grandmother’s stolen jewelry.
Long story short, Tony’s alone, and he hates it. It’s not that he’s never been alone before: but over the past years he got used to people fighting these enormous, international battles with him. To have those same people shout at him about betrayal and selling out and ridiculous demands is… disheartening, to say the least.
He’s trying his best to improve his armor – last time, the fucking Winter Soldier nearly tore his arm off and that is not acceptable. Usually, working on his suit settles Tony’s mind, gets him in the zone like little else… but working on making his armor stronger against people he once considered friends somehow sours the whole process, and Tony has to struggle to keep his mind focused on the task.
So there’s little wonder he barely notices when the scarred skin of his chest, right where his reactor used to be, starts to tingle and itch. It takes a minute of absently rubbing his chest before it disturbs him out of his thoughts, and he immediately looks up in alarm.
And of course, the one guy he does not want to see is right there. Well. One of the guys Tony doesn’t want to see – the list is getting longer every day, he swears.
“Didn’t I make myself clear earlier?” Tony sighs and swivels around on his chair to face Loki properly. “I’m not gonna bond with you.”
Loki regards him with the kind of cool composure Tony can’t help but envy at the moment. Maybe he should be alarmed that Loki’s here, in his space, moving so that he’s standing between Tony’s spread legs. He brings his hand up and cards his long, long fingers through Tony’s messy, sweaty hair. The touch would make Tony’s knees buckle if he wasn’t sitting; he lets out a drawn-out, shaky exhale and lifts his eyes up to Loki’s face.
“I mean it,” he says, but he knows his resolve is weakening. It’s been nearly a year since he figured out that the tiny golden flecks and broken lines spreading over the scar tissue on his chest are actually a mangled soulmark – a year since Loki started showing up in his workshop, in his apartment, at Starbucks. The soulmark’s always fading fast when Loki’s off to another world, blazes shiny gold when he’s on Earth, and Tony’s learned to use it as a fairly accurate indicator of Loki being nearby. But in the past days, he’s been distracted, and he thought that for once, maybe his life could just work in his favor and arrange another preoccupation for the annoying god. Asgardian. Alien.
“In light of current events, you should reconsider,” Loki purrs. He can be unexpectedly agreeable when he’s trying to sweet-talk instead of threaten. Tony likes it maybe a little too much. He can feel his soulmark throb when Loki continues stroking light fingers through his hair; it raises goosebumps all over Tony’s arms and he shivers, then catches Loki’s wrist, pulling his hand away. He’s not ready for this. He’ll never be ready – and he’s not sure what Loki’s angle is, but he can be damn certain it won’t be favorable for him, in the end.
“Why would I do that?” he huffs.
Loki twists his hand in Tony’s grip and laces their fingers together. He’s so tall… Tony’s neck is cricking from having to look all that way up.
“Mutual benefits?” Loki smirks. “If we bond, you could draw on my strength. Something that would likely come in handy, by the looks of you.”
His other hand rises to Tony’s face, and a cool thumb runs over the dark shadows under Tony’s right eye. When did Loki learn to be so tender?
And when did Tony start imagining how it would feel to surrender? He’s been hard-wired to never give up, to always stay on top of things, of everything… but now, looking up into those treacherous eyes that always turn soft for him, Tony finds himself wondering if it would be all that bad to surrender, just this once. Having a soulmate is not the same as waging a war, after all… and even if with Loki, it would probably come close, Tony’s almost sure it wouldn’t be all bad.
He lets the Asgardian move closer, straddle his legs and curl an arm around Tony’s shoulders. Tony always expects him to smell like dust and ozone and ice, but there’s only the faintest whiff of something expensive and spicy.
Tony’s hands settle on Loki’s hips on their own.
“I don’t understand why you keep insisting,” he mutters and his eyes fall half-closed when Loki leans in, his lips brushing Tony’s cheekbone.
“You’re my soulmate. There’s no use fighting power as old as that. I would not have chosen you if I could have a say, but I could have done far worse, I assure you.”
Tony has to fight himself not to turn his mouth towards the inviting heat. “Just saying – you could wait thirty, forty years, let the problem solve itself.”
“Ah. Optimistic about your life expectancy? How refreshing.”
“I like to dream big,” Tony chuckles. He’s learned how the reminder of his human lifespan annoys Loki; at the beginning, it was enough to make him leave, in a huff and breaking things on his way out. Not anymore, though. He’s been staying longer and longer, as if he’s learning to navigate the obstacle course that is Tony’s intimacy issues, and Tony doesn’t really know how many hurdles he’s got left before Loki crosses the finish line.
Loki’s lips find that spot where Tony’s ear meets his jaw, and he sighs, inching closer and closer to waving a white flag. He doesn’t even know how they got here, from all the shouted accusations and fights to the point where Loki can just stride in and deposit himself in Tony’s lap and Tony just goes with it.
“We do have things in common, Stark. We could be good together.”
“Like what?” Tony barks out a laugh – it turns into a groan when Loki vindictively bites down on his ear.
“We could bond over our exposure to sub-par parenting,” the asshole smirks, and how sad is it that the only person making Tony laugh in the past few gruesome weeks is an alien villain? “And then I could show you some interesting spells to use on your enemies.”
Tony’s hands tighten on Loki’s hips and he frowns.
“They’re not my enemies.”
Loki leans back solely for the purpose of giving Tony an incredulous, perfectly raised eyebrow and a sarcastic ‘mmm-hm,’ with that annoyingly knowing lift in intonation at the end.
“Opponents, maybe,” Tony concedes with a huff. “Temporary adversaries. And I’d appreciate it if you could stay out of this. No spells, no alien armies, please.”
For some reason, Loki finds that amusing.
“Hmm. I could still become the government. You Midgardians are awfully disorganized… one of you can hardly run even a tiny part of this world for a blink of an eye.”
“I said no alien armies, but I thought ‘don’t try to make yourself the King of Earth on my account’ was kinda inherent.”
“I’m just trying to help.”
“Well, don’t,” Tony huffs, his hand tugging at Loki’s immaculate button-up until the tails escape from his pants and Tony can slip a hand underneath, over the skin that’s permanently a few degrees below the normal human temperature. Tony got used to it months ago, but the feeling is always a pleasant shock to his system on that first touch.
“Are you sure about that? Can’t think of even a single thing I could do for you, Stark?” Loki smirks at him again, his eyes full of lascivious promises, and Tony’s done fighting himself for today. He’s still desperately holding on to the thought that this doesn’t have to mean anything, that just because he occasionally gives in to the carnal side of things doesn’t mean they’re bonded, that they ever willbe… but he’s also subconsciously come to terms with the fact that Loki’s gonna wear him down, one of these days.
He leans forward and bites into Loki’s lips; it’s like pouring electricity into a machine. Loki comes alive under his touch and his hands tug at Tony’s hair, fingernails scraping against Tony’s scalp as Loki pushes back. His tongue is hard and demanding in Tony’s mouth, and Tony angles his hips up, nearly pushing Loki off, but his hands hold steady onto the man’s back, arms curled tight around him.
Hell, he might be well on his way to surrender… but Starks never go down easy.