Missed Me?
Annoyed as he is with the dingy cramped bunker they’d to relocated, at least it’s warmer. He sets aside his suitcase as does Loki his own, shrugs off the coat tossed top a chair rubbed together both hands. “Please tell me there’s hot water.”
“Should be,” says Nat.
“Great,” he moves in search of a bathroom. Paused refaced Loki. “Umm, why don’t you, wait for me there,” indicates a room with his head. “You know, don’t ruffle any feathers. I know you love to; practice some restraint maybe?” playful smirked as did the mage.
“I don’t know. I’m rather unhinged.” Stark grinned, took off, as did the god ignoring the hawk glaring after, ignoring the discourse that breaks out about him like Stark, who peeked then to see if in the room Loki’d settled was a bathroom. Found one shut the door on them relieved with the silence. Loki’d perched on an armchair nearer to the door across the bed as Tony made forward. Again paused and faced him.
“Not that I’m complaining but, why’d you come, really?” The mage is quiet for a beat, sly smirk and answered:
“Maybe I missed you,” joke as it sounds, Tony’s smile was real and a blush creeped up his cheeks. He shook it off emphasizing:
“Well, I still wanna know how you, got into the lab at all without me but. I am glad you’re here. Missed you too snowflake,” winked retired into the bathroom door closed. Loki smiled greens softened.
XXX
Upon exit fully clothed steam trailing behind him, looks to see the back of Clint Barton sat at the edge of the bed, fixatedly staring at Loki who towards the smith glanced.
“Um, Clint. What are you doing?”
“Watching him.”
“Look I know he’s hot but at least try and be subtle about it.” Loki grins lewdly as Barton spares Stark a hard glare.
“Ha-fucking-larious.”
“Right well he doesn’t need a babysitter. I’m here and I need a nap,” he flops onto the bed. “Don’t let the door hit you on the butt.” Clint scoffed.
“You’re okay falling asleep with this psycho in the same room?” Tony’s eyes roll.
“Yes, I’m suicidal,” quips though the gravity of the matter does not escape Loki.
The weight of the trust this mortal has in him is heavy and fragile and something Loki doesn’t trust himself with. Yet an effort he finds he always exerts in preserving.
“You are. You, outside,” Barton demands now Loki is quite done.
“Oh yes he loves that tone,” Tony drawls as the god shrugs:
“Make me.” Clint stands.
“Oh I can make you.” Steve walks in.
“Thor’s here,” a fact undeterring to both who proceed with this dare then Thor enters and Clint grins.
“He can definitely make you.” Loki scowls unimpressed and Tony stands with a huff.
“Nobody’s making anyone do anything,” he comes between the faux-siblings. “Thor, buddy, hi,” garners the latter’s attention. “Look. I get you’re all pissy but. Well, no harm done,” he coughs a little. “He showed up at the nick of time and helped us out. He’s sitting tight, keepin’ to himself. And you’re here now so can we all relax?” stressed glaring at his comrades.
Disregarding him Thor pressed: “Why did you leave, without my awareness or consent?”
Loki sneered: “Consent.”
“I told him to,” Tony interjects.
“No you didn’t!” exclaimed Clint.
“Yeah, I did. Maybe as a joke but you know people can’t ever really tell when I’m not serious.” {I can.} “Look – Hey Bruce! Look at that, full house. Awesome.” The room is not big enough for four grown men and two demi gods.
“Thor is taking you back,” asserts Steve.
“No,” Loki stoically countered. Clint grimaced:
“Wasn’t asking for your opinion, pal.” Again Tony coughs and interrupts them getting far too worked up now:
“Okay, really. Can we talk about this later? The tower, here, makes no difference.”
“No he shouldn’t be out,” says a worryingly agitated Bruce. But when he starts: “Fury’ll-”
Tony snaps: “He’ll what?” challenge in his tone and most wonder, like Loki, just what he would do.
“He’ll wanna contain him,” Steve tells – Tony louder retorts sharper:
“You can’t, obviously. I mean we can. And we’re here so I really don’t understand what we’re arguing about,” valid point that he makes is not what quiets most. It is the gravity in which he speaks the dark look in his stern eyes. It is not the first time. And each time it surprised them. Why and for whom and indeed,
what he was prepared to do that they dread to find out.
“This is, this is – wow,” Clint exasperated turns. Steve starts:
“Stark.”
“Rogers.” [Try me.] So if they do then what? Are they to apprehend their friend their teammate, or worse?
“…You try anything,” Thor warns Loki who waves off:
“Yes yes, I’m quite familiar with your threats, do spare me.” A beat then Stark adds:
“Awesome – now that we’re all in agreement there is one too many Avenger in this room so, thanks for stopping by,” he herds them away, not before Clint pressed:
“This’ll bite you in the ass.”
“Uh, huh. Bye bye,” shut the door and sighed long.