BEFORE (PART -I)
Tony looked around, nursing his fourth- fifth?- scotch, eyes scanning the room.
So, okay, Tony couldn’t know for sure he was coming.
It had been hours since this thing started, and no one had ever said who exactly the foreign politicians were, but Tony had illegally hacked SHIELD for this, okay, and the pictures were pretty damn telling, even if they were blurry and way too far away to see any deciding features (even so, Tony would know that profile anywhere ).
Sighing, Tony shook his head and tipped his drink down his throat, ignoring the burn as it went down, before making his way towards the door, glancing down at his phone as he typed out a quick message to Pepper to let her know he was leaving, already mentally preparing for the chew out he would get it, which was why he was so woefully unprepared to run into an immovable rock wall of a person, and was sent crashing painfully to the ground.
“Ow, fuck!” he yelped, glaring up at the person who had so rudely run into him, and freezing when he saw who it was, when he saw him.
A dozen different emotions crashed through him, most of which he couldn’t identify, some of which caused his breath to tighten almost painfully in his chest, all of which screamed mine , his heart swelling with hope, eyes searching the others face for something, anything that would hint at familiarity or recognition, finding nothing even though he knew he wouldn’t, even though he was prepared for it. But preparation did nothing, not when he was trapped beneath a familiar intense gaze.
“Do try to watch where you’re going,” the other man sniffed haughtily, a distinctly unimpressed look in his eyes.
“Wha- me?” That at least snapped Tony out of his initial shock at seeing him here, now ( finally ), though he still stumbled momentarily over his words as he struggled to get his bearings back. “I need to- no, no, you’re the fuckin’ giant, you watch where you’re going.” And, because he couldn’t help himself, because he knew Loki couldn’t either, he grumbled, “No respect, these damn politicians.”
“I assure you, I am no politician,” the other man said with a shark-like grin. “Diplomat, if you must.”
Tony grinned, hands tucking into his pockets as he shifted back a bit to really take him in.
Oh, how I’ve missed you.
Loki looked good.
Really, really good, actually. The haunted look in his eyes from- well, from before, was missing, as were the perpetual dark smudges beneath them. He was wearing a solid black suit that he filled out nicely, hair a bit shorter than Tony was used to and slicked back neatly, a healthy flush to his pale cheeks and- gods, Tony wanted nothing more than to grab his face and kiss him senseless.
It hit him like a brick, sudden and painful, just how much he loved the person standing before him.
Slowly, and then all at once.
Loki’s own eyes ran over Tony, not hungrily or fondly, not like he would have before, but it was something , and Tony was willing to take anything right now.
“Diplomat, huh?” Tony asked, voice pitched lower to compensate for the emotions threatening to break through. “Well, that I can get on board with. What do I call you, sweetheart?” Dammit, dammit, chill with the nicknames.
Loki made a face, nose scrunching adorably, and Tony felt his heart clench at the familiarity of it.
“Certainly not that,” Loki snapped. You may call me Luke. Luke Silverstone.” He motioned to his name tag pointedly, clearly calling Tony an idiot without having to voice it.
“Luke, huh?” Tony asked with a grin, couldn’t help but add, “I think we both know that’s not your real name, though, don’t we?”
Tony watched as Loki tensed, anger and suspicion lighting his eyes, and silently cursed himself.
“Excuse me?” Loki asked coldly, and Tony scrambled hastily for an answer, for an excuse, laughing a bit to cover up his panic.
“No, no,” Tony said finally. “Not laughing at you, I swear. Well, okay, maybe a little. You just-” He waved a hand aimlessly, figuring mystery was the best way to go, the best way to draw Loki in without him realizing something was off. “Nothing, no, nevermind. Well, when you figure it out…” Tony pulled his empty name tag from his pocket and scribbled quickly on it before folding it in half and handing it over to the cautious god, who took it after a moment of deliberation, tucking it into his pocket.
You know who I am, he’d said, but Loki didn’t, not in this timeline, not yet .
“Don’t look so scared,” Tony said with a grin and a wink. “It won’t explode or anything, I promise. I know I have a reputation, but I’m really not that bad.”
“Oh?” Loki merely raised a brow.
“Oh yeah, things only explode about seventeen percent of the time in my presence,” Tony said with a serious nod.
“That...isn’t entirely comforting,” Loki said and Tony chuckled.
“Oh, I like you,” he drawled, pushing every bit of truth into it he could without being overbearing.
“Lucky me,” Loki said, rolling his eyes.
“You should feel that way,” Tony said with a chuckle. “But really, I’d love to talk shop. It’s not often I get to meet off-worlders, and I’d love to discuss magic with you. Which, by the way, I absolutely do not believe is in any way, shape or form related to science, understood or no, thank you very much. But if it is, by any chance, even a little bit related to what I do, I’ll figure it out.” Draw him in.
Loki’s eyes widened in shock and flickered a bright, ethereal green for just a moment, a second, a heartbeat, long enough to set Tony’s heart both racing with anticipation and aching with familiarity and want.
“Very few mortals can...do what I do,” Loki murmured, soft and slow, cautious as ever.
Tony couldn’t help but laugh in delight, chest aching, tossing his head back, because of course Loki would say that; it was such a Loki thing to say that Tony had to laugh, otherwise he might cry.
“Don’t you worry about that, sweetheart.” Tony grinned, soft and dangerous and chaotic, and because Loki had always loved a good mystery, because now was the time for Tony to draw him in and make an escape before he did something stupid like kiss him or confess his undying love or tell him the truth , so he added, “Not many can do what I do, either.”
And with that, Tony disappeared into the crowd, letting it close behind him, hide him, hide the emotion welling in his eyes.
He offered a kind smile and a brief nod as he passed by Nat and Steve, who were dancing together, smile widening as it was returned in kind.
He gave a squeeze to Bruce’s shoulder as he passed him at the bar, met Thor’s eye from across the room as he attempted to woo Jane, tossed the ball back to Clint’s kid when it rolled too far away and smiled at the mouthed “thank you” from Clint.
Finally, he was able to make his way out of the gala, tipping his head back to embrace the chill of the night, pretending for just a moment that it was Loki’s cool arms wrapping around him and not the wind.
Later, Loki would find him, and they would talk for hours about nothing, about everything, sharing meals and sharing drinks and sharing unimportant stories.
Later, Tony would rock his hips into Loki’s, nose along the pale expanse of bared throat, tangle his fingers in inky hair, suck marks into sensitive inner thighs, press kisses across sharp collar bones, careful not to let their lips meet even as they gasped their pleasure together.
Later, Loki would wrap himself around Tony, sweaty and sated, and ask for his story.
Tony is strong, he always has been, he’s made of iron and fire and will, but Loki has always managed to tear down his defenses like paper, so Tony will tell him, just like he always does, just like he always will.
Loki doesn’t believe him, not at first, and why would he? Tony’s story is terrible, horrifying, gut wrenching, awe inspiring; a story of a god and a human who fight through impossible odds for the universe, for the world, for themselves; a story of monsters and gemstones and unimaginable fear; a story of two people who fall in love at the worst possible time, who scream and kick and claw their way back together every time, always, because that’s what love is, because that’s what they are.
Later, Tony will straddle Loki’s naked thighs and cup his flushed cheeks and press their foreheads together and he’ll whisper, desperate and broken and painfully hopeful,
“Kiss me,” he’ll whisper, eyes open wide and shining, laid bare before his god. “Kiss me, and you’ll remember. Kiss me, and you’ll love me again. Kiss me, and we can finally be us .”
And then Loki will soothe a hand down his back and catch his lips without hesitation, without fear, and Loki will remember .
But, right now, Tony was content to wait for all of that.
Walking down the street with snow flurries swirling around him, the cool wind caressing him like his lovers arms, sifting through memories of a life that he had made sure would never happen and the one he made sure would, the one he would always hold onto, he couldn’t help the smile that graced his lips.
This is how they would happen, across every timeline, across every universe; this is how they would fall in love, unequivocally and irrevocably.
This was them , every single time without fail. Tony knew it in his heart, in his bones, down to his very soul.
Slowly, Tony thought with a smile, turning as he heard a voice calling out to him, his own eyes locking with curious emerald green ones, and then all at once.