Chapter Text
“There’ve been no sign of them,” Bruce said. Tony hummed, not taking his eyes off the video he’d pulled up of Loki.
Loki, who was sprawled across the sparing mat in the training room, his breathing ragged, and his glare fierce. A light flush dusted his cheeks, and even through his shirt, Tony could make out his ribs. He shouldn’t have been sparing, but it wasn’t the first time in the week since they’d gotten back that Tony had seen him doing it. And maybe he shouldn’t have been spying on him—Loki certainly would have blown his head off—but it was hard to know what was going on with Loki otherwise. Loki, who seemed determined to keep Tony in the dark.
Oh, he’d been plenty affectionate, his hand sliding into Tony’s and his arms wrapping around him and his head resting on his shoulder, but as soon as Tony so much as mentioned what happened or what might have happened or God forbid that Loki might need to talk about anything, Loki shut him down. He was determined to pretend that he was fine. Which was the most idiotic thing ever, because if anyone knew what avoiding sleep because of nightmares and wincing every time you moved because your body ached looked like, it was Tony, and Loki should have known it.
Natasha had told him to give Loki time, but if Tony gave him time, they would never talk about this, and then Loki would think it was ok to just… to just act like his pain didn’t affect Tony.
“He’ll be fine, Tony,” Bruce said, and Tony flicked the video off.
“I know that,” he answered. “So, no sign of the scary sister?”
“None,” Bruce said.
Gamora and Nebula. Tony had only learned their names after the fact. The woman that had freed Loki and then helped him cut Thanos’ head off. She’d vanished right after, gone as soon as Tony turned away, Loki’s head tucked in the crook of his neck.
Apparently, Nebula had been just as quick to turn on her siblings when she’d realized Natasha, Steve, and Barnes had gotten the upper hand. Corvus had gone down under his own glaive after she’d hit him with her baton, and then she’d backed down the hallway, the three of them too stunned to pursue her.
The other Asgardians had defeated the outriders fairly easily if their stories were to be believed. Though Tony personally had a hard time believing Hogun had ridden one of them up to chop off Proxima Midnight’s head.
They’d exploded Thanos’ ship on their way out, the green and red fireworks almost pretty and plenty satisfying. After dropping them off at Earth, Thor and his friends had returned to Asgard (Thor has promised to return as soon as possible, but he said he needed to report to the All-Father), and Steve and Barnes hadn’t stayed even two days before they’d disappeared to a safe house to ‘figure things out’ as Steve said. Tony didn’t even want to be on the other end of that conversation.
“We’ll keep looking, but I have a feeling Gamora and Nebula are gone,” Bruce said.
“Fine by me,” Tony answered, and Bruce nodded once before turning. He stopped in the doorway, turning to glance back at Tony.
“You know, I was there when you realized Loki was gone,” Bruce said. “And as worried as I was about Loki, I was more worried about you.”
“What?”
“I’m just…” Bruce cleared his throat, his eyes too sincere, too concerned. It made Tony want to run and hide. “Loki loves you, and I think if you just told him how he’s making you feel, he’d do everything in his power to make that feeling go away.”
Loki slammed into the ground, Natasha’s knee pressing against his sternum. His ribs throbbed, his head ached fiercely. He shouldn’t have been sparing, should have been resting, letting his magic heal him and regenerate, but he couldn’t. He needed to get the feel of Thanos’ hand on his chin, the pain of Gamora’s strikes to his ribs, Ebony Maw’s presence circling around his mind off. He felt unhinged, dirty, erratic. He’d been almost fine again, so close to alright, and then this, and he hated it.
“Another?” Natasha asked, too innocently when her knee was still pressing against Loki’s chest. Anger flared in his chest, hot and uncontrolled, and he wanted to destroy something. He should have been over that after he’d teleported to the desert and just screamed, letting his powers obliterate everything around him. Anthony had been almost frantic when he’d returned because he hadn’t been able to find him, and even when the urge had come up again, Loki hadn’t had it in him to repeat the exercise. And so, sparing it was. Even though his body was slow and painful, and he was getting his ass kicked.
“I’m done,” he muttered, shoving her off. She stepped away easily, lifting her water bottle from its place beside the mat.
“Clint’s leaving tomorrow for his mission,” she said.
“You mistake me for someone who cares,” Loki answered, trailing behind her to his own bottle.
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “I was worried about him for a while there. He only got cleared because I vouched for him, but he’d only really been alright after he started talking about what happened.”
“What I did to him, you mean?”
“No,” she said, quick, annoyed. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Loki.”
“How can I not when everything you say has a double meaning?”
“If you hear another meaning behind my words than maybe that means you yourself have something to work out, doesn’t it?” she asked, and heat flushed through his cheeks. He’d stepped into that one.
He knew what she thought of their sparing sessions, even if she never said anything directly. She didn’t have to. It was almost worse that she was letting him cope in his own way when he knew it bothered her, when it was driving Anthony crazy. He didn’t want to hurt them… he just—didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t remember how to rely on other people anymore.
The door to the training room opened, revealing Thor standing in the doorway. He was in his casual clothes, arms bare and hair loose. It was the first time Loki had seen Thor since they’d returned to Midgard, and Loki had the sudden terrible urge to wrap his arms around Thor and cry into his shoulder—to ask him why he’d felt the need to report to Odin right then when Sif could have done it—to disappear when Loki had needed him.
“May I speak to my brother, Lady Natasha?” he asked, and Natasha cast Loki one speculative look before nodding and heading out the door. Loki wanted to hit both of them.
“So, what does Odin have to say about my latest failure?”
“Your…” Thor frowned, trailing off as if Loki’s question genuinely worried him, and Loki wanted to scream, to destroy everything in the room. He wanted to stop feelings Thanos’ fingers along his jaw and Gamora’s fist on his cheekbone and Ebony Maw’s mind scratching along his own. They were dead and gone. It was supposed to be over. “There was no failure, Loki. You are not to blame for Thanos’ actions and our father sees this. He is only concerned.”
“I do not want his concern,” Loki answered, turning his back on Thor, and maybe it wasn’t fair. Odin’s actions were hardly Thor’s fault, but Loki hated the way the words made his eyes sting.
“Brother,” Thor said, his hand landing heavily on Loki’s shoulder, his voice too soft, too understanding. Loki had never been good at fair.
“Do not touch me.”
“Perhaps, I should not have left,” Thor answered, his hand staying exactly where it was, and Loki didn’t have it in him to shake it off. “I thought Tony would—”
“I am fine,” Loki interrupted, and Thor paused, his fingers tightening, his hand still unmoving, and Loki’s eyes burned. Frost crept along the edge of the training mat, his own skin too icy, and he wished Thor would just get stuck in his own head like he always had before and leave him alone. He didn’t want him to leave.
“Alright,” Thor answered, still not moving.
“You don’t have to stay,” Loki snapped.
“Alright.” His hand was burning through the cloth of Loki’s shirt.
“Then leave already,” Loki answered, whirling around to get in his face. Thor’s hand dropped to his side, his expression unmoving even as Loki crowded toward him. “Just go do whatever heroic whatever you have next.”
“Loki,” Thor said, firm, steady, his eyes fixed on Loki’s face and his stance firm—like he really had no intention of leaving, and Loki’s chest spasmed, the building sob escaping with a loud, undignified hiccup. He covered his mouth, tears burning the corner of his eye.
Thor’s hand was hot and heavy against his neck as he pulled Loki toward him, and his shoulder was thicker, his armor heavier than when they were children, and somehow, burying his face in Thor’s robes make him cry harder and feel safer than he had in too long.
Tony hesitated and then paced away from the training room door. He didn’t know what he was even doing, stalking Loki when he didn’t want to be stalked. He dug his fingers into his hair and paced back toward the door. Muffled voices sounded from the other side, wet snuffling and Thor’s deep rumble, and Tony couldn’t stop himself from pressing closer.
“You haven’t spoken to Tony about this?” Thor asked. Loki’s reply was muffled, and Tony pressed his ear to the metal. “He cares about you.”
“I didn’t say he didn’t,” Loki answered. “I just don’t think I can be what he wants. After…” his voice trailed off into a hushed whisper, followed by a loud sniff.
“You shouldn’t let your fear stop you—”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Of course not,” Thor answered, sounding like he didn’t believe that lie one bit. Loki mumbled something that made Thor laugh loudly. “Of course, Brother,” he said, followed by loud footsteps. Tony blinked and scrambled away from the door as the footsteps got louder, but he was too late. The door opened when he was a step away, Thor and Loki standing in the doorway.
Thor blinked at him, his hair ruffled and his cape lopsided. Loki, however, scowled at him, obviously knowing exactly what he was doing here, but it was hard to be anything but concerned when he saw how Loki’s eyes were rimmed red, his cheeks pale. His hair was still perfect, curling attractively around his ears and neck and his shirt and pants hugging his body sinfully well. Still, it was obvious he had been crying, and a horrible, jealous part of Tony hated that it was Thor who had gotten Loki to open up.
“Tony?” Thor asked.
“Were you eavesdropping?” Loki asked, his eyes narrowed dangerously.
“No,” Tony answered, his voice a high squeak, and Loki’s eyes narrowed further. “I didn’t really hear anything. I was just—”
“Worried?” Thor asked, casting a meaningful look at Loki. Loki sighed deeply, rolling his eyes up at the ceiling.
“Perhaps we should speak,” he said.
“I would like that,” Tony answered, too fast.
“I’ll leave you,” Thor said, not at all subtly inching his way down the hallway. The silence that followed his departure was anything but them talking. It was awkward and uncomfortable, and Tony just wanted to touch Loki and tell him that everything would be alright, but he didn’t know—
“Perhaps somewhere more private,” Loki said.
“Oh, sure,” Tony answered. “My room?”
“Sure,” Loki said, and Tony gestured down the hallway like Loki didn’t know the way to his room. He headed the way Tony pointed anyway, head high and back straight and looking like he was headed towards his execution, and Tony—he didn’t want to know what Loki wanted to speak about, didn’t want to know what he’d been telling Thor. ‘I just don’t think I can be what he wants. After…” he’d said. What had he meant, how would he have finished that sentence? After what? Did he really think what had happened with Thanos would change Tony’s opinion of him.
Loki closed the door to Tony’s room behind them, the soft click sounding like a gunshot in the silence, and Tony wanted to run as far from this conversation as he could.
“I feel I should explain—” Loki started at the same time Tony spoke.
“If you’re going to break up—"
They both broke off at the same time, Loki’s eyes widening almost comically wide. Tony’s face burned. He hadn’t meant to blurt that out. He just—Loki blinked once, took a step forward, reaching out as if to touch Tony before drawing back his hand as if burned.
“Break up?” he asked, his voice breaking over the word as if he’d been scalded. “Why…?”
“I don’t—” Tony broke off, a hard lump in his throat. “You won’t talk to me, and you were telling Thor—"
“I’m trying to explain!” Loki interrupted, his voice higher and more desperate than Tony had ever heard it. “Anthony, please, I know I’ve been… difficult, but just let me explain before you decide to end things—”
“What?” Tony interrupted. “I’m not—I would never—”
“But you just—”
“No!” Tony snapped, his own voice embarrassingly high and desperate. “You were the one telling Thor that you didn’t think you could be what I wanted, which sounds like you’re about to break up with me and—"
“This is why you shouldn’t eavesdrop on my conversations!” Loki answered.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I was concerned, and apparently I was right to be because—"
“I love you, Anthony,” Loki said, his voice wet and frustrated, and Tony’s arguments ground to a halt in his mouth. “I love you. Ending things with you would be the most idiotic thing I’ve ever done.” He let out a laugh bordering on hysterical. “And I’ve made some bad decisions.”
“Then why?”
“Because it’s true!” he said. “I feel as if Thanos has crawled into my mind and won’t leave.” He took a breath, his exhale trembling faintly. “Before—before I fell, before Thanos and the Other, I was—I was strong, powerful. Perhaps, I wasn’t always good, but I never felt this weakness that I do now. Now, I’m angry all the time and I can’t even spar without remembering their hands, and you deserve—"
“You,” Tony interrupted. “I deserve you. I love you, Loki, and I don’t want anyone else.”
“But—”
“After Afghanistan, I was angry too,” Tony said, and Loki’s eyes sharpened on his face. “I didn’t want anyone’s help. Not even when I woke up every night feeling like I was drowning.” He closed his eyes, the memories burning in his mind. The crates and crates of weapons, the demands for him to give them more, his head being shoving under water and his lungs burning. “The only time I felt strong again was when I was Iron Man, and the only time I felt at all calm was when I was destroying the people who had kidnapped me.”
Loki ran his hand along Tony’s wrist, soft and comforting. His shoulders had relaxed, his lips softer.
“I wish I could kill them again for having touched you,” Loki said, intertwining his fingers with Tony. Warmth blossomed in Tony’s chest at his words, and honestly, Loki thought he alone was screwed up.
“I’m just saying,” Tony said. “He tortured you. He warped your mind, manipulated you, kidnapped you from a place you felt safe and then tortured you again. You have a right to be angry. I’d be a little concerned if you weren’t.”
“That’s almost profound,” Loki said, humming lightly. His other hand ran lightly over Tony’s over hand, his head tilting.
“I’m very profound,” Tony answered. “I leek profoundness.”
“That’s disgusting,” Loki said, laughing lightly. He glanced up through his eyelashes, his hand cool on Tony’s skin, and God, Tony had missed him. He had missed him like breathing, and none of the distance or inappropriate time for a boner made him want Loki any less. He dropped his eyes to Loki’s lips, and Loki shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Tony’s change.
His hands ran up Tony’s arm, pushing the material of his sleeve aside as his lips curved up in a smirk, and it was disgustingly hard to resist him when Tony could already feel the heat moving down away from his brain.
“I’m trying to have a serious conversation here,” he said, and Loki’s lips curved into a full smile.
“And I’m listening profoundly,” Loki answered, and then he kissed Tony, his lips hard and unyielding, and God, it felt so, so good. Tony wrapped his arms around Loki’s waist, pulling him close, and Loki let out a muffled groan into his mouth as their bodies connected. He was just as hard as Tony, his groan rubbing along Tony’s.
He walked Tony backward toward the bed, his hands burying themselves in his hair. His tongue stroked along Tony’s, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip, and Tony dug his fingers into Loki’s waist as the back of his knees hit the bed and they tumbled backward, Loki landing heavily on him.
Tony pulled away from the kiss, gasping in a breath as Loki did a complicated motion with his hand that made their clothes disappear. The cool air swept across Tony’s body, his bare dick suddenly straining against Loki’s bare erection, and he groaned at the feeling. He hoped Loki had better aim this time. Last time he’d magicked their clothes away, Tony hadn’t been able to find his socks or his shirt.
Loki bit at the skin under his jaw, his tongue smoothing away the sting before it even really registered, and Tony ran a hand up his back, reaching between them with his other hand to take them in hand. Loki groaned into his neck, his hips twitching violently into Tony’s and his lips faltering.
“Anthony,” he said, his breath fanning across his skin and raising goosebumps along his throat. Tony ran his fingers through Loki’s hair, down to cradle his neck, stroking with his other hand as Loki groaned. “Anthony, I’m going to—” Loki shivered against him, his hips tensing and then thrusting hard. “Stop, I want—” Tony paused, and Loki sank his teeth into his neck like he hadn’t told Tony to stop, his groan high and pained.
“That was uncalled for,” Tony said, and Loki licked over the bite.
“I want you to fuck me,” Loki answered, and static filled Tony’s mind, the words fuck and Loki and want, running around and around in circles. His dick leaked against Loki’s hip, his hand frozen on Loki, and it just wouldn’t compute, because—hot hot hot was the only thing that would.
“Anthony?” Loki asked, his voice low and smug and so, so arousing. He swung his leg over Tony’s hips, and Tony’s hand fell away from his shoulder, settling on his hip as he reached behind himself and the wet shlick, shlick, shlick sound of his fingers entering himself sounded the next minute. “Think you can do that for me, Anthony?”
“Don’t start doubting me now, baby,” Tony answered, his lips moving before his brain had caught up to the situation. Loki’s set his hand over Tony’s, guiding both their hands to stroke himself slowly as he continued to prep himself, and Tony dug his fingers into Loki’s hip.
“I’d never,” Loki said, and his face twisted up into something more serious. His voice catching and his hips thrusting down hard. “Not after—” he cut off abruptly, pulling his fingers out of himself. He put his hand on Tony’s stomach, his fingers wet with lube he’d gotten from who knew where.
“I’m not sure I could ever doubt you again,” Loki said, his hand slid off himself, and Tony followed his lead, getting the sense Loki didn’t want to talk about feelings with a hand on his dick.
“Loki—”
“No, let me speak,” he interrupted. “I…” He swallowed hard. “I was afraid I’d never see you again, and then you were suddenly there, and you cannot understand what—how I felt looking at you in that moment. I know I should have spoken to you sooner, but I was afraid I could not be enough to deserve that moment,” he said, and warmth bled through Tony. He wondered how hard it was for Loki to admit that, even in this space, even just between them.
“I’ll always come for you,” Tony answered, and Loki smiled, full of teeth and arousal and adoration.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said, raising himself up. He held Tony in one hand as he lined himself up.
Tony’s fingernails bit into his skin, pinpricks of red that he couldn’t help wishing would mark Loki’s skin as his dick brushed against Loki’s entrance. Loki breathed out, his fingers curling against Tony’s stomach and bore down, and it might have been better than tinkering. It might have been better than inventing Jarvis or Iron Man or—
It was good.
Loki kissed him hard, bottoming out with a moan muffled by Tony’s lips, and Tony thrust up into him, jerking him off with the hand he still had on him. Loki cried out abruptly, his hair sticking to his face and his neck.
“You’re so beautiful,” Tony said, and Loki inhaled sharply like no one had ever told him that simple fact before. He looked so different from usual, wide-eyed, sweaty, and vulnerable. Nothing like the arrogant god he wanted people to think he was.
He rose up on his heels, and Tony met him on the down thrust. Two more thrusts and cried out as he spilled across their stomachs. He squeezed his eyes shut, his head thrown back and the long line of his throat pale, and Tony couldn’t help but follow him after.
They panted against each other for a long moment before Loki rolled on his side, wincing as Tony slipped out of him. His eyes slid open, dark green in the low light, his face pale and beautiful.
“I love you,” Tony said, reaching out to twine their hands together. Loki’s lips curved upward, his fingers squeezing between Tony’s.
“And I you.”