Chapter Text
Time passes, languidly at points, slowly, determinedly, making each minute known. At other points, it is there and gone, spent in the blink of an eye, and leaving whatever poor creature that had been ensnared in its trap disoriented and perhaps even confused. The point is that time passes, in whatever way it chooses, but it does pass, completely unyielding to the wishes of what it affects. Time is not human, after all. It is not some lowly thing to be swayed and changed by the whims of others. Neither, for that matter, is Loki.
He hums as he strolls into the kitchen on the common floor, intent on making use of the stove, desiring a hot breakfast for a change. It is early in the morning. The sun has only just begun to creep over the horizon. Tony is asleep, and will likely stay asleep for a while longer. Usually Loki would stay with him, enjoying the rare peace of simply being in Tony’s presence, before all the madness of the day and the brilliance of Tony’s mind. When his silly human is awake, peaceful is perhaps the last word Loki would use to describe him. Today, though, Loki woke up hungry, and he wanted breakfast, so he left Tony sleeping, absolutely positive that Tony will still be asleep when he slips back into bed.
It is still early enough that Loki is positive he is the only one making use of the common floor. Rogers will most likely be up and jogging through the streets of the city, not to return for an hour or more. Barton and Thor will not be awake until much later in the day, probably once the morning is long gone. The beast, Banner, has probably gone to bed only recently, and is unlikely to awaken until the time comes for the evening meal. This is all speculation, of course, but it is enough that Loki feels comfortable humming as he works. Sometimes he sings around Tony.
It is only Romanov he is unsure of, as her patterns are anything but predictable. She is an impressive woman. After sticking his head in the fridge and going over what he has to work with, Loki decides that he would like eggs for breakfast. He grabs the carton and places it on the counter, turning next to the cupboards, rooting through them to see if he can find any herbs to cook with. Plain eggs are acceptable as well, but Loki does love flavor. Behind him, he hears the barest puff of air. “Would you like some eggs as well, little spider?” A snort is his only reply, so Loki shrugs and makes sure he has enough for two. When he turns to face the breakfast bar, Romanov is seated comfortably, watching him with amusement. Her silence is nothing new, so Loki just continues making food, his humming gone silent.
There was a point, after a prank that had gotten a little out of hand, that Loki had had to cook for himself for a very long while, for his own safety. People never really could take a joke. In any event, he had discovered that he rather liked cooking. Nothing is quite as satisfying as food done well, and when one has a specific meal in mind, it is best that they cook it themselves.
Romanov watches closely as he cooks, probably trying to make certain he does not poison the food, or something equally ridiculous. As if Loki would be so foolish as to poison any of them in his own home. He would definitely be more creative than that. Of course, Loki does not share this information. He likes the way they circle him, trying to find a crack in his masks. Little do they know that in this building, in his home, whoever might be present, the only mask Loki wears is his skin. He has nothing to hide from these people in his daily behavior. He refuses to hide from these people.
An idea suddenly comes to him. Loki turns back to the fridge to gather a few more supplies for his omelet. Some spinach and cheese should taste wonderful with what he has already started. He saw something like that in one of the cook books he bought. Tony had laughed when he saw those, saying that Loki could not really cook at the tower, as well as something along the lines of cooking not being appropriate princely behavior. Loki had pinched him, cackling gleefully when Tony yelped, and had said that he just liked to know. That is really the only reason Loki does anything.
A delicious smell begins to rise from the pan in front of him. Loki grins and hums appreciatively. His breakfast is going to be wonderful. It would be nicer if Tony was going to eat with him, but the idiotic human really cannot stand food first thing in the morning. Also, there are green things in this, so it would be even harder to get Tony to eat it. Loki has taken to liquefying vegetables, removing the flavor and color but leaving everything good, and hiding them in Tony’s coffee. So far, he has remained unaware. With his personal habits, it really is quite the achievement that Tony has managed to survive this long.
That thought brings a shadow on Loki’s good mood. He has yet to talk to Thor. In fact, he has been avoiding it. Unreasonable, really. Loki has no excuse. In fact, he is lucky that nothing else has happened so far. Tony assured him that life-threatening missions are extremely rare, something that hardly ever happens. Tony assured him that he can look after himself, and Loki believes him, he really does, but he would also prefer to cover all his bases and make Tony untouchable. Secretly, of course.
Finally, his breakfast is done. He places the massive omelet on the breakfast bar in front of Romanov before turning to get cutlery and plates, still lost in his thoughts. Romanov’s attention has gone from Loki to the food, and Loki cannot help but smile at that when he notices. His food is good enough to distract a master assassin. Perhaps he has a chance of persuading Tony to eat some after all.
His smile does not last, however.
A spasm goes through him, hardly painful but uncomfortable to an extreme. Surprise flits through Loki’s mind as his fingers open against his will and all the dishes he had been holding crash to the floor. Again, hardly painful, but terribly uncomfortable. Inwardly, Loki begins to panic.
Magic is running through him, magic that is not his, while his body continues to spasm. He cannot find his own to counteract it, nor to even examine it. Loki almost falls to his knees, right on top of the mess of broken plates and cutlery, but Romanov is at his side before that can happen. Against his will, Loki leans on her. His knees are wobbling, threatening to give out. Romanov grunts when she really feels his weight and starts to lead him over to the couch. Loki feels momentarily sympathetic for her. She truly cannot support his weight for long. It is a slow process, getting to the couch, but eventually they get there and Loki collapses onto it gratefully.
He knows he’s pale, probably even a bit green. A cold sweat has started up, and Loki shivers through it, trying to remember the last time he had actually felt cold. It must be psychosomatic, at least partially. Black dots dance before his eyes, and his ears are ringing. Romanov is trying to say something to him, but he cannot tell what her words might be. He shakes his head, trying to clear it, but the movement only manages to make it a bit worse. Spasms still run through him, making him twitch oddly all over as that damned foreign magic runs through him. It feels odd, so very odd, and old, older than most anything Loki has ever experienced.
Vaguely, Loki realizes that he is panting, and that Romanov is still trying to talk to him. Loki attempts to wave his hand, trying to brush aside her concern. “Fine,” he pants out. “I am fine. Magic spasm,” he says, by way of an explanation.
The magic going through him concentrates on his abdomen, which is confusing to say the least. The unpleasant sensations kick up a notch, making Loki wince and wiggle around. He feels loose in his own skin, but at the same time much too confined. Abruptly, one final enormous shudder passes through him, and then Loki is fine, almost as if nothing had even happened. For a moment, he feels utterly confused. Nothing feels wrong, there does not seem to be any sort of foreign influence present any longer. Warily, Loki reaches for his own magic and allows a scan of sorts to pass through his body, looking for anything that does not belong. He sits up straighter as the spell notifies him that there is nothing hostile in him. It does not make any sense.
“Loki?” The god in question holds up his hand, stopping Romanov’s flow of words. His eyes narrow and he adjusts the spell, searching for something—anything—that would not have been present when he began his morning. This time, he does find something. A warm glow in his abdomen, brought to his attention by the magic but a steady part of his awareness now that he has found it. It is a feeling that Loki knows well, a feeling that makes his eyes fly wide open, shocked at the sheer impossibility of that feeling being able to exist, here and now and under these circumstances. Fear and joy and confusion tears through him, and for a second, Loki has absolutely no idea how to react, how to deal with this new information, how to even begin processing it, and it shows on his face. He knows it does. Centuries of control slip away in the blink of an eye, and for a brief second, Loki is wholly visible.
But that second passes, and Loki schools his features. Romanov is watching him, the barest hint of concern evident in her eyes. Loki tries for a reassuring smile, control sliding back into place. “My apologies. Magical spasms are uncommon, but not unheard of. They are painless, yet deeply unpleasant. There is no need for concern.”
Romanov tilts her head. “That one looked pretty violent. Is Tony okay?”
Loki takes a quick moment to check; he had forgotten about Tony, and is relieved with what he finds. “He is still asleep and blissfully unaware.” Unaware of everything. The relief only increases. Loki does not know if he is ready to share this with Tony yet.
Remembering his breakfast, Loki stands and goes back to the kitchen. Romanov follows him, concern and curiosity coloring her gaze. Loki ignores her and waves his hand. The smashed dished fit themselves back together and fly into his hands, unmarred and seamless in their reconstruction. The cutlery flies to the breakfast bar, and the omelet heats back to the temperature it had been before Loki made a mess. Romanov sits quietly and cuts herself a portion of the omelet after Loki beckons her to do so, and he serves himself when she is done.
The food is good, as Loki knew it would be, and he tries to savor it, remembering a time all too well when simple food was something he could not enjoy. Still, one can hardly blame him if he is still distracted by what just happened.
A few silent minutes of chewing pass, and then Romanov turns to him. “Are you going to tell Tony?”
“About the spasm? I see no reason why I should keep it from him. Nothing bad came from it, and it will likely never happen again.” Loki shrugs. “Hardly anything worth hiding.”
Natasha is looking at him oddly. “You’re telling the truth, but I feel like you’re lying.”
Loki grins. “The truth, little spider, is often the best lie of all.”
Her lips twitch in what must be a smile. “You’re okay though?”
“I am unhurt.” Her eyebrow twitches. She does not miss a thing, this Romanov. Thankfully, she lets it go.
“So tell me, where does an Asgardian prince learn to make omelets?”
Loki’s grin turns into a smile. “Now that is a rather interesting story.” And so, the rest of his rather early breakfast is spent pleasantly. Loki tells Romanov about his prank and how it had gotten so quickly out of hand. He is surprised to hear her giggle when he speaks about the results. It is almost enough to distract himself from the glow. He usually enjoys himself around Romanov, even when he was Liam. It is perhaps more enjoyable to be around her now that he is not ‘Liam the boyfriend’ and she is not ‘Natasha the Avenger’. Now, they are simply Romanov and Loki, both trying to gain the upper hand, both aware of the other’s intentions, and both enjoying themselves immensely.
Rogers walks in to the two of them snickering over a story about Thor. His expression immediately looks worried. “Morning Nat,” he pauses, and then, “Loki,” he says with a curt nod.
Loki inclines his head in return. “Captain.” He gestures to the large piece of omelet left over. “Would you like some breakfast?”
“Who made it?”
Loki smirks. “I did.” Rogers visibly hesitates. Loki has to resist the urge to prank him. The captain makes it remarkably easy to find openings, but as of yet, Loki has been good. “It is not poisoned, if that is what you are thinking. I am not so idiotic as to poison you by my own hand,” he says haughtily. Rogers looks even more unsettled, and Loki can resist no longer. “Rest assured that I would be more creative than poison when planning your death. Your food is safe,” he teases. Romanov starts to snicker again, recognizing his sarcastic tone. Steve frowns immensely but cuts himself a piece of the omelet anyways. He pauses again before he takes a bite.
“It was delicious, Steve,” Romanov adds in.
Seemingly mollified by Romanov’s words—if she ate it, surely the food is safe—Steve finally tries the food. He instantly looks appreciative. “Wow, this is actually really good. Can I have the recipe?”
The question surprises Loki. It seems Rogers is momentarily surprised by it as well. Loki laughs. “Unfortunately there is no recipe, Rogers. I just threw some ingredients together. Though I am glad you two appreciate it, Tony would never eat it.”
Romanov smirks. “Because of the vegetables?”
“Or because it’s breakfast?” Rogers asks.
Loki chuckles. “Because of both, I believe.” Rogers laughs a bit before is face turns stern and guarded again, as if he remembered who he is with. Loki sighs. “Come now, Rogers. You liked me when I was Liam.”
“You were lying then. I don’t know what to expect now.”
“Expect more or less the same thing. The only lie I told you was my name. Everything else was truth.”
Steve glowers. “And you expect me to believe you now?”
Loki smiles a little self-deprecatingly. It is a Tony expression, one that Steve recognizes instantly. “No, not really. I would like to say that I was the god of fire and mischief long before I became the god of chaos and lies, and apart from the skin and the name, I am also Liam. Please keep that in mind.” Loki stands and cracks his neck, taking a moment to stretch leisurely. “Well then, I must be off.” He waves his hand casually, and suddenly the plates and utensils are clean. They sort themselves and fly back to their various places. Rogers twitches at the display of magic. “Tony does hate to wake up without me there. Until later, little spider.” Loki gives Romanov a grin. He turns t Rogers and offers up a mock salute. “Captain.” He saunters from the room before either human can move to respond. Romanov’s faint chuckle has Loki smiling as he walks to the elevator.
****
“Is he going to be this annoying from now on?” Steve grumbles, resentfully at his food. It really is delicious, and that makes him scowl all the more.
Natasha grins. “He’s only being like that because that’s what you expect him to be.”
“I’m not expecting anything.”
“Yes you are. It’s a game, Steve, and you’re going to have to learn the rules sometime soon.”
Steve looks shocked. “Nat, this isn’t a game. This is Loki. Just because I gave him a chance doesn’t mean I have to trust him.”
“I’m not telling you to trust him, Steve, I’m telling you to stop expecting something from him. The faster you figure that out, the faster you two are going to start getting along.”
Steve sighs. “I don’t really want to.” He then narrows his eyes. “You don’t seem to have a problem with it, though.”
“Give it a try, Steve. You might actually like what you find.” Natasha looks pointedly at the omelet in Steve’s plate. Steve sighs again, reluctantly seeing her point. Once she’s sure of that, Natasha stands up, brushing imaginary crumbs from her pants. “Anyways, I’m going to wake up Clint and drag him through hell in the gym. He’s been way too lazy lately.”
Steve chuckles despite himself. “Oh man, you’re evil.”
Natasha grins at him as she walks over to the door. Before she leaves, however, she pauses. “Something happened this morning, Steve. Keep an eye on the two of them.”
Steve immediately straightens. “Dangerous?”
“For us? No. For them? Possibly. Though my guess is that Loki is going to try and keep Tony in the dark for as long as possible.”
That last comment sparks Steve’s curiosity. “Do you know what it is?”
Natasha shakes her head. “I have no clue this time.” She looks genuinely disgruntled about that fact.
****
Loki sighs in relief as he slips under the covers next to his lover. Or rather, fiancé. The word is silly, but Tony had refused to be called his ‘betrothed’, claiming that it had sounded too medieval, so fiancé it is. They have yet to inform the others, but not out of any with for secrecy. They just have not decided how to do it, or really even who should do it.
In his sleep, Tony rolls over and pulls Loki closer to him. The god accepts the action with a sigh of contentment. No living soul besides Tony and his mother knows how much Loki loves to be held and cherished, like something small and precious. Loki would most definitely commit murder to keep that secret. Magic can erase or edit memories, but magic can also be overridden. Death is so much simpler and much more practical for keeping secrets.
Loki snuggles closer to Tony, trying to force himself into a relaxed state. Every time he comes close, however, the glowing feeling comes back to claim his attention. The fates are testing him, Loki is sure of it, because this… this is a blessing, something Loki had thought himself no longer worthy of. Looking at the face of the man beside him, a trickle of anxiety makes its way to the forefront of Loki’s mind. This has the potential to be a curse as well.
A strange welling of emotions prompts Loki to lean over and press kisses all along Tony’s face. It does not take long for Tony to wake up enough to capture Loki’s lips and kiss him back enthusiastically. Loki sighs softly and leans into it, keeping the pace slow and languid, but Tony ends it sooner than Loki would have liked. He does not move away, thought, but instead nudges his nose against Loki’s. “What’s wrong, Reindeer Games?”
Loki sighs. “You can always see through me so easily.”
“Yeah, well, I blame the bond.”
“You had that rather unfortunate talent for far longer than the bond has existed. You have not even peeked in my mind now.”
“True,” Tony agrees easily. “So are you going to tell me what’s wrong or do I have to guess? Cause if I had to guess I’d say you’re leaving me for Steve. Captain America is a lot more glorious than Iron Man, after all,” Tony babbles happily while tracing his fingers up and down Loki’s back. The silly chatter is exactly what Loki needs, and he finally relaxes fully.
“Can you blame me, darling? He is a sight more… patriotic.” Tony snickers at the comment, and Loki allows himself a small smile.
“So?” Tony is looking at him expectantly, and Loki decides to provide some sort of answer.
“I had quite the scare this morning.”
Instantly, concern begins to radiate from Tony. “Yeah? What happened?”
“A spasm in my magic.”
Tony tilts his head, obviously confused. “A what?” Loki is pleased that despite his inability to understand the situation, Tony’s fingers have not stopped tracing patterns on his back.
“Something like a muscle spasm,” Loki explains carefully, “but in my magic.”
“Oh.” Tony winces. “So basically a full-body magical Charlie Horse?” Loki nods. “Shit that’s awful. Are you okay? Does that happen a lot?”
No, not really. “It is uncommon, but not unheard of.” For me. “This was my first experience with the occurrence.”
“Seriously? Any side effects?”
Loki almost bursts into hysterical laughter. There is an extremely enormous ‘side effect’, but Loki wants to keep that to himself for as long as possible. “Yes, there is one side effect, but it is nothing bad.” It is wondrous. “There is nothing you need concern yourself with.” At the moment.
Tony gives him a look. “If it involves you, I’m concerned.”
Loki presses a quick kiss to Tony’s lips. “If it becomes an issue, I will tell you.” Eventually.
Tony examines him for a second, eyes searching, before he slumps a little, letting a wry smile light up his features. “That’s all I’m getting, isn’t it?”
Loki nods, trying to suppress his own grin. “For now, darling.”
“Fine, I’ll take it. As long as you’re not leaving me for Steve.” A wicked smile stretches across his face. “But there’s consequences for waking me up so early.”
Loki grins from ear to ear. “Of course, darling. Fates forbid I stop you from exacting righteous punishment on me.”
Tony is snickering before Loki even finishes. “Fuck you,” he says fondly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Loki’s lips.
The god smirks. “If that is what you desire, I am amenable to it. Perhaps in the shower?”
“Who am I to refuse a god? Lead the way, Lo-lo.”
Chuckling, Loki does so. Despite all his words of punishment and consequence, Tony’s touch is loving and gentle. This is still new, Loki getting fucked instead of doing the fucking, and it probably will be for a while longer. The feeling of being filled is still new as well, and Loki enjoys it. He groans, feeling Tony’s own pleasure bleeding through the bond. If the human had not been truly awake before, he certainly is now, but his movements remain slow and languid, the very picture of lazy morning sex, albeit in the shower.
There is no rush, and allowing the pleasure to slowly build this way is just as enjoyable as a hard, fast fuck. Loki wonders how this will feel later on, as he is definitely going to be confined to the receiving end of their relationship in the rather near future. His thoughts are chased out of his mind when Tony does something just so with his hips, and Loki keens softly. Tony begins to chuckle when he hears it, and Loki would be embarrassed, except for the fact that he has drawn far more amusing noises out of Tony, and also because Tony moves differently when he is laughing.
It is not long before Loki feels the tension building, getting ready to snap. He can feel Tony’s pleasure echoing his own, and when Tony reaches around to take him in hand, they both groan. Loki opens their bond even more than it already is, and Tony quickly latches onto him, holding Loki as close as physically and mentally possible. They find release in unison, Loki shouting out and Tony groaning as he bites Loki’s shoulder. Their orgasms ricochet across the bond, doubling their own feelings and becoming nearly blinding in its intensity.
When Loki gets a fraction of his mind back, he is relieved to see that they are still standing. A shower floor is not a comfortable place to be, regardless of whether or not that shower floor is made of Italian marble. It is a miracle that they even managed to stay standing, but with more and more of his mind returning to him, Loki realizes that he is the one who is holding Tony up, and though his knees are shaking, Loki refuses to fall. He has done that enough this morning.
Loki leans his head on the cool tiles, the water still pouring over them. The events of this morning, pleasantly driven away by sex, come rushing back. Loki shields those thoughts from Tony and then nudges his fiancé with his elbow. He is beginning to get uncomfortable. Tony gets the hint and pulls out. Loki hisses involuntarily, because it feels so strange. Tony presses a kiss to Loki’s neck. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he sighs happily.
Loki smiles despite his worry and unease over his situation. “Of course I am, I am a god.” Tony does not have to see Loki’s face to know he is smiling. Loki can feel glowing amusement filtering through the bond.
“And I’m Iron Man, way cooler than a god. Homemade, baby,” he teases. He is trying and failing to sound upset.
Loki is feeding steady sensations of warmth and happiness into the bond. “Glad to know that the man I have chosen is humble and modest,” Loki says dryly. “Now be a dear and pass me the soap, darling, I do not want to spend all day in the shower.”
“I don’t see why that’s a bad idea,” Tony says, grinning but handing the soap over all the same.
“Well for one, you will become even more wrinkled than you already are, and I would prefer to avoid that.” A few seconds pass, and then Loki bursts into laughter at the sound of Tony’s squawk of rage, that is, until Tony takes down the shower head and sprays water in Loki’s face. As can only be expected, a large water fight ensues that leaves the bathroom considerably more wet than it should be, and two grinning idiots dripping on the rug.
Probably trying to take advantage of the moment, Tony turns what he must think is a sneaky glance at Loki. “So about that side effect?”
Loki’s gut clenches. “You are still getting nothing, darling.” He gives Tony a quick kiss and stalks out of the bathroom, braiding his hair as he goes.