Chapter Text
"What. Are. You. Doing here ...?" Tony growled when the pain in the arse of a god appeared out of thin air … right in front of him?
Loki took a couple of seconds just to stare, registering his surroundings. He swore under his breath in Asgardian or something as he realised where he was. "… it was an accident."
“Oh I'm sure it was," Tony glared at him.
He was nowhere near his suit and Loki could kill him in a flash before he could even get Jarvis to call their Friendly Neighbourhood God of Thunder.
"No, really ..." Loki muttered, coughing, "I'd much rather be ... elsewhere ..." He swayed a little, apparently thrown off-kilter by something, and finally pitched to the floor face-first.
"Shit," Tony glanced down at the trickster and sighed. "Seriously? You're playing dead? That's just-" Tony stopped rambling on about how pathetic he thought Loki's acting was when he saw a small pool of blood gathering around the God's stomach.
Despite being face-planted into the floor, Loki still managed to mumble something that sounded bitter and probably offensive.
"Don't think I didn't hear that," Tony chuckled at the not-too-positive-sounding mumbling the God was making. Finally, reluctantly, he scooped the god up over his shoulder. "I'm only doing this because Thor'll kill me if I let you die," he muttered, setting Loki carefully on a workbench. Tony resigned himself to tending to some of the various wounds on the trickster. Pepper and Jarvis had made sure he was able to take care of minor injuries because Pepper wasn't around all the time anymore ... they split - again - After a couple bad turns, target-hitting swings and plenty of electric shocks from the multiple villains the Avengers were sent to apprehend.
Loki sat still, hunched over slightly with his long pale fingers clutching protectively at his stomach wound, blood seeping between his fingers. Under normal circumstances he would never have let Tony Stark touch him, especially when he was in such a state, but since he saw stars whenever he blinked and the room span when he tried to look up, he decided it was probably best not to protest just yet. He could attempt escape later, when he had a bit more blood in his system and could actually see straight. Might as well take advantage of the mortal's (unexpected) kindness while he could, and vanish himself out of there later.
Tony started humming an odd tune - an old lullaby - that he remembered from his childhood as he worked. He hadn't heard it in years, but the mood seemed right and he didn't know if Loki would like his music- 'Wait ... wait wait wait wait wait! ... SINCE WHEN DO WE CARE WHAT HE LIK-' Tony's thought was cut short when a weak voice whispered roughly in front of him, "I ... I know that tune."
Tony's head whipped up in surprise, his hands tightening around the bandage he was about to apply to the God and a lump formed in his throat. He wouldn't ever tell this to anyone ... but Loki had the most mesmerising eyes ... They were ... beautiful. He shook his head and continued in silence the God watching him like a hawk ... a very predatory hawk about to scream STOP TOUCHING ME YOU FILTHY MORTAL any second now ... He was ... it was ... just ... taking him a while to register that this was Tony Stark's house he was in. Tony's bench he was sitting on ... and Tony's hand he wasn't growling at that was passing over his slim frame.
Loki's tongue darted across his cracked lips, tasting blood. He was focusing on Stark, eyes narrow - partially because it just took too much effort for him to hold his eyes fully open, but also because he was still trying to focus on Stark, trying to work out exactly what was going on. Under the aching pain in most of his bones, he gradually became aware of the feeling of Stark's hands, surprisingly warm and gentle, moving across skin that has been cold for centuries. He was hypnotised for several moments - until Stark touched something particularly painful, some tear in his flesh, and he hissed.
"Hey! I can't help if you push me away!" Tony said, exasperated at the childishness that Loki could even possess. "Fine ... Jarvis ... get Thor on the li-" and once again the Trickster attacks, his hand gripping firmly onto Tony's neck.
"You will do no such thing," he hissed in the mortal's ear. He grunted as he tried to right himself, but this man was no Asgardian healer. He did not possess the healing magics they did. He should not even expect the courtesy Tony was showing.
Loki huffed out a frustrated breath, bloody fingers slipping from Stark's throat to his chest as that sudden burst of energy dissipated. He still glared, with a look that really could kill if he put in a bit more effort. "You will keep that cretin out of this," he spat, blood flecking his lips. The god was putting on a good show, but the pain he felt was almost visible underneath the icy shield he wore.
Tony turned back around, now face to face with the man with a murderous glint in his eye.
"Jarvis?"
"Yes sir?" the British accent filtered into the room. Loki was probably the first person to not look around to find the source. Or maybe he already knew it was undeterminable and didn't bother ... just kept glaring at him like that.
"Scratch that," he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he went back to tending to Loki's wounds. "Of course sir." the VI (Virtual Intelligence) replied.
Tony glanced back at Loki's eyes as he finished wrapping the bandage, and they were still piercing green orbs that were staring into his very soul. Grasping and obtaining every little titbit about him. "Whatever you do ... don't go and lick your wounds like a cat when you eventually get out of here. I won't tell S.H.E.I.L.D. and you won't tell your little Super Villain friends how to get in ... deal?" Tony took a step back, held out his hand in an offer to shake on the deal.
Loki's eyes narrowed further, distrusting. He was reluctant to move his hands away from their protective grip over his stomach wound, but finally he relinquished it and briefly shook Stark's hand. His fingers were cold, even the blood on them was cold. Blue-blooded could not describe anyone more accurately than the god of Chaos. The handshake lasted only a brief second or two before his hands returned to cradle his body.
He lowered his head again, somewhat reluctantly, but purely because the energy to keep his head up was more than he possessed. Now that Stark was no longer practically molesting him (no matter how good the man's intentions may have been, the experience was still highly uncomfortable for the god, who hadn't been touched other than to be abused in longer than he could really remember) all he wanted to do was collapse somewhere and sleep for about a century.
If Stark would let him go, he was sure he could muster the strength to put up some wards. But teleportation seemed out of the question right now.
Tony was just about to go back to work and leave Loki to his own devices when he saw how weak the god was.
He took a deep breath in and let it out again. "You'll need to sleep, rest, I'm told it helps ... but if you know anything about me, I don't do what Pepper wants. Ever." Tony chuckled to himself at the last bit and extended a hand to help Loki of the table.
"There's a bed upstairs that no one ever uses. You'll be fine." Tony was a little hesitant (only as much as anyone else would be when they have God in their workshop (home) that could kill them in a mere moment before they could ever think about defending themselves) but his hand was steady as he holds it out.
Loki eyed the offered hand suspiciously, not exactly keen on the idea of touching Stark more than necessary (and no, he wasn't going to admit to himself that it was because the touch was comforting and he was scared he might get attached, no, definitely not). But finally, he surrendered to the fact that he would be totally incapable of going anywhere by himself until he'd had some time to sleep and heal and recover. So, with a defeated sigh, he once again placed his hand in Stark's, refusing to look up and meet his gaze. That glare was still set on his face, but a little more subdued now.
Tony sighed internally and shrugged. 'The sooner he rests, the sooner he's better, the sooner he's better then the sooner he leaves,' he thought, over and over again, shoving all other thoughts out of his head. Thoughts like 'why is he so cold' and 'he's very light for a god in all that leather and metal' and 'Why does he trust me?' Tony gently shook his head and led the God up the stairs (STAIRS?! right ... the elevator! that was my next job!) and into the guest room.
"It's a little chilly in here ... but the fire should warm it up in no-" Tony stopped himself and lead the man to the bed. "I'll ... Just ... tell Jarvis if you need anything".
A lot of people believe that Tony Stark has no heart. It's not true though. Underneath all the booze and girls and parties, is a lonely man who always lived under his father name and never lived up to the man's expectations. The only person that has ever been close enough to see that side of him was Pepper. But he was too afraid to show it. He hides behind the tabloids and that mask he built for himself, never letting it down, for anyone ... until one green eyed God comes magically transporting himself into his home and is glaring daggers at him. That's when Tony Stark has a heart? ...
You better believe it baby!
Loki just stood on the spot Stark had led him to, swaying ever so slightly from side to side, gaze trained on the ground. That simple act of moving to that room was enough to completely drain what was left of his energy, and it was taking all of his strength just to stay on his feet, arms wrapped protectively, defensively around his slim battered body. He swallowed, managing a slight nod. His mind was reeling, thoughts all pushing in and fighting for attention -- foremost, what on earth was he doing in Tony Stark's home and why was he being kind to him? Why hadn't he called up Fury and the rest of the Avengers and hold on, the ground was reeling towards him and why was he suddenly in the man's arms, with the floor much closer than it had been seconds ago?
"Shit," Tony had taken two steps ... TWO STEPS and the God was already plunging dangerously towards the ground. He'd darted in microseconds and was suddenly under the weakened God, holding him up in his arms.
"Here," he said, shuffling and juggling the man a little to a more comfortable position and then giving up and going bridal style. "Don't kill me." Tony was hoping Loki was out cold right now and had no idea what was happening. He carried the feather light body to the bed and laid him down, pulling a patchwork quilt over the God's body.
He went to check his temperature and pulse when he recoiled like he'd be burnt ... like ... frostbite ... 'no ... That's not possible'. Tony warmed up his hands and tried again.
'Yep ... he's definitely cold' he couldn't stop his fingers from lightly dragging along that slim, defined jaw as he pulled his hands away. The man's skin was soft like velve- 'NO! THIS IS LOKI!'
Tony walked out of the room, gathering the little amount of dignity he had left and went back down to his workshop ... after ordering Jarvis to keep tabs on Loki and tell him whether anything fluctuates unhealthily.
Jarvis so sarcastically replied, "He's whole body's functions are unhealthy compared to humans sir."
"Then ... Compare him against Thor for Christ’s sake!" Tony growled at the computer and tried to continue his work when Jarvis interrupted again, saying, "But his are different to Thor's bodily functions ... not only naturally colder but his organs are different and his body shape is of a similar situation."
"But he's an Aesir! ... wait ... Jarvis. Bring up the S.H.E.I.L.D. file on Loki Laufeyson ... I want everything on my tablet." he had no interest in the devices on his bench right now ... Loki had decided to steal his concentration ... selfish bastard.
“Of course sir. 18% transferred.” Jarvis reported jovially at Tony picked up the tablet and sat down at his workbench, devices and gadget forgotten.