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“You were right. Headache,” Loki flops onto the bed hands behind his head. Smiling wide Tony neared him, refusing to part with the coat despite it being plenty warm now.
“Well. We showed them,” he perches beside him and Loki smiles at him as warmly.
“Certainly. And between the two of us, cherry. There really is hardly anything we cannot accomplish.”
“Mm. No wonder it freaks them out.”
“Mhm.” Loki shuts his eyes settling in the space. Tony watches him,
and longs…
He reaches, slowly, fingertips but graze skin, his jawline and Loki flinches just barely at the contact unprompted, but remains, with eyes shut. Remains as those coarse pads stroke timidly up and down the side of his face, his temple and hairline then card through the long locks. Loki sighs further relaxing, head tilting closer, so Tony nears,
for once indulging the urge, leans in. Lips but touch, the chastity to it takes even him aback yet when he looks those lips smile, green eyes lidded in lashes long shimmer. Loki’s hand comes to cradle the base of his head, guiding him down so their mouths reacquaint more. Tony hesitates for one valid reason: “Are you sure you can’t get sick?”
“Anthony shut up and kiss me,” is Loki’s answer to which Stark grins and returns, his pecks sweet and playful, teasingly so that though Loki’ll humor it briefly they both seek more, more of each other and Tony lets Loki turn them over lets the god lead and hold him and deepen their kiss so they taste one another, mint and spice and cinnamon intermingling. Loki wants to properly taste him wants to trace every crevice of his mouth with his tongue, and well as Tony throughout the past three days has become still his breath is labored slightly, so with a kiss to his cheek and the wave of a hand the sheets drape them, and Loki renders them clotheless save for their boxers. Tony laughs.
“Straight to business, huh?”
“Go to sleep, Tony. We can properly ravish one another when you’ve fully healed,” Loki laid aside him curling an arm round his waist.
“That a promise?”
“Definitely.”
Loki would promise and promise, and pray he never breaks a single promise.
“On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“Your ‘break’ with Miss Potts becomes permanent.”
Loki is underserving he seeks not to be deserving he seeks one thing
because there is nothing else now; nothing else like this mattered,
To keep this smile on the smith’s lips, genuine and real, and she does not. But he knows how to.
“I don’t share, a concept you’re no stranger to yourself.” Stark chuckled and turned so they’re facing, so he can trace the contours of Loki’s taut frame feel his soft skin, inch closer that they’ll touch all over.
“Definitely not…Consider it done,” as it technically was.
“I should rather think so,” the mage drawled, their legs twining, their hands roaming. Grinning still Tony hummed in content, thumb brushing along Loki’s reddened lips so jade eyes are lidded, pupils wide and dark, and they make Tony want.
And he wonders: “…How long? Have you had feelings for me.”
How long has he been blind, or has he always known or has it always been so that to discern was impossible.
“…Long,” is all Loki says, so Tony asks him:
“…Why didn’t you say anything?” Because it is Loki and what he knows of Loki is that he takes what he wants, like him.
Like him hasn’t.
“I mean, don’t take this the wrong way but-”
“I didn’t, care whether she or any other were imbedded in your life,” but if so then what’d kept him, what’d stilled his tongue?
“Then-”
“I didn’t…Think you would…” the end to this phrase, Tony needn’t hear.
He knows, closer shifts cups the god’s face, and tells him: “I do. Want you. A lot. For a long time too. I was stupid. Holding onto something I never really had, for the wrong reasons. And you, this, it…it’s new. I’ve. Never clicked with anyone so well so fast you just. Caught me off guard,” he spoke what confession he sees in Loki’s eyes too, and in them too, is a doubt so clear he has never on him seen. “…You know I think you’re amazing, right?” he asks yet knows; Loki would not believe this,
even as soften those eyes and the god closer leans that their nose-tips brush, and their lips sweetly meet he knows,
just as he doubts, that this godly being, sees in him something, anything really of worth, other than genius or wealth or authority that which countless possess.
Loki sets out to show him, what more and more, of drive of passion, beauty, and kindness, unbreakable strength and a weary soul thriving brimming with life.
Alike Tony swears to keep surfaced, the Loki maskless, who is curious and devious and perceptive and artful, whose care is wholesome, whose heart is golden.