The Chitauri, Odin, & the Jotnar.
Loki looked at the closet full of beautiful garments—masculine and elegant, made with the finest fabrics by the finest hands. This was the wardrobe of a commander of men. No one could doubt Anthony’s easy authority in a room. He drew every man’s ear with a single breath. Yet, none of these vestments called to him, none of them a thick enough shield for the task he was about to endeavor upon, and he would need a good set of armour for it.
Loki was furious—furious at Odin, at Asgard, at Laufey and Fárbauti—but mostly he was furious at Thor, the mate who had claimed to love him and had betrayed him more cruelly than all the others. Loki’s fury for Thor was venomous. But who was the one being poisoned by it? Why was his fury matched with a longing he couldn’t let go of? His alpha had abandoned him, abandoned their child, and yet Loki suffered still from the Bonding Sickness.
A knock startled him from his thoughts, and Loki turned to find Natasha leaning against the doorway. She was dressed beautifully in a black pants suit, her long curls unbound around her shoulders.
“Hey,” she said with a warm smile, and then lifted her hand to dangle a pair of leather boots before him. “Thought you might need some battle gear.”
Quirking a brow, Loki approached her and took the boots. They were knee high, made of sturdy, black leather, and an impressive stiletto heel. “Thank you,” he said, meaning it. It was a magnificent gift.
“Seems a few sizes too big for my female form,” he murmured.
“Who said they were for your female form?” His head snapped up and she smirked. “Hath no fury like a woman scorned, right Loki of Midgard?”
Loki grinned. “I have the best war sister in the universe.”
“Damn right.” She gave him a thump on the shoulder. “Now suit up. You leave in twenty.”
With a wink, she left the closet. Loki looked down at the gift. They were truly a fine pair of boots.
Ten minutes later, Tony walked into his living room to find the most stunningly beautiful sight he had, or ever would, lay his eyes upon. Loki stood a striking figure in fitted, black pants and the sexiest of heels—they were so narrow they could poke a hole through a man. It was topped off with a corset-esk vest top of crisscrossing leathers accented in just a hint of gold, fitted sleeves, and a pair of leather bracers. The look was finished off with Loki’s hair left wavy and loose around his shoulders, the way Tony liked it, but the sides were pulled up into a topknot.
Tony grinned at what he saw and walked into the room, a little more cocksure than before. Stopping before the other man—who if Loki didn’t tower over him before, he certainly did now—and reached up to gently flick the thrice pierced ear.
“Nice cuff,” he said.
A soft blush colored Loki’s normally pale cheeks, and in an unusually shy move, he reached up to touch the red and gold cuff chained to a diamond stud.
“Red doesn’t really suit me, but I wanted to wear your colours,” he said quietly.
Tony hummed in acknowledgement. He didn’t fully understand it and would research it later, but he knew Loki well enough to realize that this was something meaningful and important to him.
“What do you think? I know it’s not something I’d normally wear. Natasha gifted me the boots.”
Tony again looked the outfit up and down. It was tight, fitted, and damn intimidating, but it was also more androgynous than Loki usually wore, which was an elegant, effortless masculinity. This had notes of femininity in how it accented the subtle curves of Loki’s body, mixed with Loki’s innate predatorial movements—dangerous, that would be how Tony would describe this look, deliciously dangerous. It stirred a heat inside Tony, a hunger he was impatient to fulfill.
Wrapping his hands around Loki’s lean waist, Tony let his hands slide to that firm, curvaceous ass, and gave it a slow squeeze. Loki’s soft breath became a quiet moan, and Tony pulled him closer until there was no doubt that Loki would be able to feel how hard he was.
“Keep the boots on for tonight, hm?” Tony smirked and winked, giving Loki’s ass a firm smack as he stepped back.
Loki growled softly in the back of his throat and reached out, but was halted by Natasha’s entering from the kitchen with Hela on her hip.
“Ready to go?” Natasha asked.
“Nearly,” Loki said, all hint of sexual tension gone from him as he approached his daughter. “Hela litla elskan mín, did you have a good nap?”
“Já, mamma,” Hela murmured, snuggling into Loki’s chest, half awake. “Want to go with you.”
Loki chuckled softly and kissed the top of her curls. “I know, my love, but I’ll be back tonight, and you’re going to have fun with Anthony and Natasha frænku, hm?”
Hela gave a very put-upon sigh. “I suppose, mamma.”
With an amused smile, Loki kissed her temple. “I know your acts, litli svikari. You won’t be getting your way this time. Now, give me a kiss before I go.”
Giving up her attempt, Hela smiled and kissed Loki’s cheek. “Ég elska þig mamma!”
“I love you too, pet.” Loki returned the cheek kiss, gave his daughter a fierce hug, and then handed her off to Tony. The two men’s eyes met, and Loki said, “Protect her well, alfa mín.”
“I will,” Tony promised. “We’ll stay in, watch Bambi. What’s safer than Bambi?”
Chuckling, Loki shook his head and gave his daughter another kiss before bidding his farewells.
The pair watched Loki go, both filled with their own worries and trepidations. Once he was gone, Hela flopped her head against Tony’s and asked, “We’re really not watching Bambi, are we? It’s boring.”
“Cars?” Tony asked, trying not to smile and failing. Despite the tutus and miles of pink, Hela really wasn’t a girly girl.
“Ja,” she said with a nod of approval, “and poppy corn?”
“Of course.”
Down in the elevator, Loki continued to fret. He never liked leaving his daughter, and now they’d be so much farther apart. He didn’t like it one bit, but he also didn’t want Thor anywhere near her.
“Don’t worry.” Natasha bumped her shoulder against his. “Between JARVIS and me, those two won’t be out of sight.”
He tried to smile at that. “With those two, there’s bound to be mischief. It’s impossible for them to stay out of trouble.”
“Kettle, pot.”
Loki snorted inelegantly and rested his chin on the top of Natasha’s head. “Protect them.”
“All the way to the fields of Fólkvangr,” she vowed.