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Some people walk like they are a step away from dancing, while others walk like they are an instant away from face-planting. Hard and painfully. At that moment, Tony Stark belonged, wholly and completely, to the latter group.

"No one who drank as much alcohol as you did should be able to walk, let alone walk like that."

His companion laughed, a low, sultry sound. His response ran blurrily through Tony's drunken brain.

"You drank as much alcohol as I did."

"And I can barely walk!"

Had he been slightly more sober, he would not have admitted such a thing. There was a momentary pause from his partner as he grabbed Tony's arm, sending tingles all through his body, and wrapping it around his shoulders.

"That is true. However, it is quite the indication of your alcohol tolerance that you can."

Tony grumbled as he leant into the man's lithe body, taking full advantage of the strength he offered him. He was rewarded with another chuckle, just as darkly seductive as the first.

"You're drunk," Was Tony's response to the reaction. "You don't normally laugh."

Had he been anyone else, Tony would have sworn that his companion froze mid-step, before continuing.

"I am not drunk," Came the muffled, haughty reply. "I am… tipsy."

"Curse your Asgardian biology."

This time the man did stop.

"I am not Asgardian." His voice was sharp and icy as he removed Tony's arm, and turned him to face him. The billionaire squinted to bring his face into focus.

He smiled as dark, vibrant green eyes formed, staring at him from a pale, handsome face, framed by black hair, gently falling to his shoulders, looking as if he was about to claw Tony apart with his fingernails.

"You're even more gorgeous than normal when you look like you're about to kill me."

He frowned. Had he just said that out loud?

The slight widening of eyes showed that, obviously, he had. A tall, lean body was suddenly flush against his, a hand gripping his chin firmly, but not painfully. Eyes stared directly into his as his head spun at the sudden movement.

A smirk formed on the other's face.

"You mean that, huh?"

It was Tony's turn for his eyes to widen. He wasn't given the chance to respond.

Lips were pressed to his, hard and demanding, softly unyielding. Tony pressed against his body, kissing back with equal fervor.

And, just as abruptly, the kiss ended. A voice like snow, sex, and molten chocolate rang out from those talented lips, his equally skilled tongue pronouncing each word carefully.

"Obviously you did." He could hear a smirk in that voice as he let out a slightly breathy moan, his voice slightly more than a whisper as he pressed himself up against the other.

"Loki…" The word could barely be classified as speech, rather a sigh, a moan, a breath.

And the Trickster pulled back suddenly, leaving Tony teetering for balance, a smirk on his face as he turned.

Tony began to tip forward as his companion waltzed away, sashaying, skipping away. He was as good as dancing, every movement conveying self-satisfied amusement.

And Tony face-planted. Hard.

He groaned against the pavement as his face mashed against it.

"Bastard."

Chapter Text

Loki was found, muttering insanely about affairs with food, three weeks later in remote Russia, with Thor still moaning in ecstasy at the Avenger's mansion, covered in poptarts.

Chapter Text

"What is that? Who is that? What are they… What is he doing?"

Thor looked bored, Loki could see from the corner of his eye, but he couldn't take his eyes off the figure.

He tapped his bottom lip thoughtfully, studying the figure. He seemed very familiar.

"They have poledancing on Midgard too, Loki," Came Thor's exceptionally bored voice from beside him.

Loki didn't dignify that with a response. The man's movements were mesmerizing, and even Thor was not averting his gaze.

"Thor… Does he seem familiar to you?" Loki didn't turn away from the figure as he spun, trying to catch a glimpse of his face.

"I do not know, brother. I do not admire the male figure as you do."

Loki didn't even notice Thor's use of the word 'brother' as the dancing man did something with his hips that had to be illegal.

The man tilted his head as if to look over his shoulder, before continuing to dance. Loki could read 'smug grin' in every line of that lithe, amazingly gorgeous bod-

He felt his legs turn to jelly, and fought to stay standing. How was that even physically possible? Whatever that man had done, should never be allowed. Nothing that made the Trickster react like that should be allowed in any of the nine realms. Or between the branches. Or anywhere. EVER.

Loki could still feel Thor's presence beside him, and he remembered vehemently arguing against coming here. But Thor had insisted, claiming that they were going to meet his teammate, Tony Stark. And though Thor knew they had met before, they hadn't exactly been on the best of terms.

He would have to remember to ask Thor's forgiveness for the arguments.

He felt his mouth go dry as the man continued to dance, his lithe body enthralling Loki in a way that no other-

His thoughts were cut off as horror began to dawn in his mind as his subconscious made connections. He felt his mouth dropping open in shock and dread even before the man spun towards the end of his dance, to face his audience.

It was not possible. It should not have been possible. He wouldn't wear that little clothing, and dance… Would he?

The man walked off the stage in complete silence. It was not possible. A trick of the light, the shadows were wrong.

And yet it could not be. He felt Thor stiffening beside him, could sense his mouth dropping open in horror.

As the man drew closer, Loki felt his finger, still on his lip, draw it down further than it already was. He was sure the look was unattractive, but the brain that had just shut down in horror couldn't bring him to care.

He'd thought that… and reacted… and…and…!

The man they had come here to meet drew closer. The man who had danced for them smirked.

And Tony Stark's voice drawled from in front of him, scantily clad, and gorgeous-bodied,

"So, boys. Enjoy the show?"

Loki stared at the billionaire, barely registering the thump beside him as his brother hit the ground, one thought running through his mind.

Tony Stark could poledance.

Chapter Text

There was a bird's nest in his rafters. A bird's nest!

Clint furiously stalked to the Director's office, snarling at anyone who happened to get in his way. However that damn bird had gotten into the SHIELD headquarters, those rafters were his, and nothing was taking them away from him.

The door he threw open hit the wall hard enough to leave a dent. The scene he came upon gave him pause. Tony Stark was sitting on Fury's desk, talking idly to him. They didn't even jump at the door slamming. Instead Fury looked up at him, stating, in his calm, calm voice:

"Ah, Mr. Barton. We've been expecting you."

The only thing that would make him seem more villainous in that moment would be steepled fingers. Tony Stark, however, could only have seemed more mischievous if he was the god of it.

He shook his head angrily, unwilling to be distracted as Stark walked forward.

"What is a bird doing in the Avenger's headquarters, and why is its nest in my rafters?"

His voice was a threatening growl, his glare savage enough to melt glass. Tony just grinned.

"Well, I'm glad to know you liked my present." His voice was teasing as Clint's eyes widened.

He left them standing there as he sprinted back to his rafters, clambering up to the roof so fast that everyone watching him could have sworn he had flown. As he reached the nest, he grinned at the size.

It was large enough for him to comfortably curl up in it, with room to spare. In the centre was a note, stating

'So that, when you fall asleep up here, you don't fall down.

Tony S.'

Clint grinned ferally. If they wanted a bird, they'd get one.

 

Tony woke up with something large and round between his legs. It was to credit him that he didn't roll around in panic, throwing blankets and pillows and whatever the hell that was everywhere, because there was something on his bed. He slowly opened his eyes, and raised his head. Said eyes widened as panic diminished, and confused shock ensued.

Slowly and cautiously he scrambled upwards, leaning back against the headboard, and carefully examined the object on his bed, reaching out to it, but not quite touching it.

Was that… an egg?

He peered closer.

It most certainly was. And it was bigger than that of an ostrich.

He reached out and poked it, cringing in preparation for an explosion. It didn't come. Instead, he watched in abject horror as the egg tipped over, slowly tilting to one side, and then faster as the weight changed. He hurriedly grabbed it, pulling it upright. No matter where it had come from, he did not want egg innards anywhere in his bedroom, thank you very much.

Picking up the egg, man that thing was heavy, he made his way out of his room to the kitchen. Only to be greeted by the rest of his teammates, bar Hawkeye and Thor, sitting around the table. With giant eggs balanced in front of them.

He cringed inwardly. Well wasn't this going to be fun to deal with.

"Has anyone seen Thor?" He asked cautiously as he sat down at the table, placing his egg in front of him, noting that each looked similar to the point of identical.

Natasha gave him a flat look.

"Knowing him, he's probably trying to hatch it."

Which had been Tony's main worry. Whatever was in these things, he didn't want it rampaging around… anywhere.

Clint chose that moment to waltz in, looking exceedingly pleased with himself, and exceedingly de-egged. He ignored the suspicious looks that came from everyone, except Steve, who was staring worriedly at his egg, and pranced to the counter. He opened a cupboard and pulled out…

"Is that birdseed? And did you get an egg?"

Clint just grinned mysteriously, his voice echoing his expression.

"Not everything is as it seems."

Well what did that mean?

Tony opened his mouth to voice the question, but was interrupted by the entrance of Thor. Who was practically skipping. In his hands was another white egg.

Tony half rose from his chair, terrified that Thor would…

Trip.

If anyone asked later, no one would be able to say what had happened. All they could say was they saw the thunder god's eyes widen as he began to fall forwards. From there, Tony saw everything in slow motion.

The egg slipped from Thor's hands, and most of the Avengers lunged to grab it. Tony threw himself back from the table as the egg flew towards the table by his egg, bypassing the Avengers' hands.

And then there was a low, hard thud as the heavy object hit the table.

There was a crack as the white shell began to split.

And there was a rattle as Mini M&Ms went flying. Everywhere.

Tony choked as a few landed in his wide mouth.

What had just happened?

Clint's incessant giggling broke the shocked silence. Horrified, traumatised faces turned to look at him, everyone as good as frozen in position, Thor still on the floor.

"Well," He managed to huff out through his laughter. "I'm glad to know you liked my present."

He ran for his life as the enraged Avengers chased him through the headquarters. No one made any comment as they flew past, most of them still in their pyjamas, shaking small objects from their hair and clothes, rather picking said objects up from the floor, and hoping they wouldn't explode.

Shouts of "I'm going to kill you, Barton!" echoed through the building as Nick Fury sat in his office, a hammer in his hand as he stared at the egg that he now knew was chocolate.

He brought the hammer down with a sharp crack, small colour objects pouring out into the tray he had ready. He locked his door, and sat down in front of his work, grabbing small handfuls of the objects and eating them slowly, a small smile entering his usually blank eyes.

He'd always been partial to M&Ms.

 

Distantly, a horned God smirked.

Chapter Text

They'd started movie nights as a way of relaxing. It was an informal thing. Tony had sat down on the couch with pizza, and put on a movie. He hadn't been paying attention when he'd chosen the movie, but he'd noticed when Clint and Natasha had strolled in and stolen some of his pizza.

The row that had then occurred had attracted everyone else in the mansion, and, as they'd traipsed in, the argument had subsided. Thor had ended up with his own box of pizza, Tony and Pepper sharing, just as Clint and Natasha were. Loki had simply wandered between them, stealing slices whenever he'd felt like it.

It had been a casual thing, at first. Tony had put one on the next evening, too, and they'd again eaten in front of it. And it had kind of become a nightly tradition. It was unspoken, but everyone would come. And if even one of them weren't there for the night, no one would watch it.

It was also the most anyone really saw of the elusive Trickster God. He just kind of popped up in places every now and then, but even JARVIS never really seemed to be able to find him. Which was highly irritating when he'd pull a prank and vanish. And no one could find him for revenge. Or they could, and it would end up even worse for them. Which was highly amusing you weren't the one dangling from the ceiling covered in honey and icing. Or tied up in intricate knots on the floor.

Which was painful. Tony knew.

Whoever was there first picked the movie, another unspoken agreement, so they never knew what they'd be watching. Which was interesting, the first night that they watched a Disney cartoon. Tangled, to be precise. Natasha's choice, for Thor.

But Tony noticed something as he looked at the evil witchy character. Crazy chick, she was.

So for the first time, they organized something. For Tony, it was just to prove his hypothesis. For the others it was a gathering. And there were blankets and pillows everywhere, and lots of sugary foods and drinks, and everyone settled down, and the Disney movies started.

They went through Aladdin, The Lion King movies, Brave (which had nothing to do with Tony's hypothesis, but he figured that Clint and Natasha would like it. They did), Hercules and a bunch of others, before reaching their final movie; The Emperor's New Groove.

Everyone had enjoyed their afternoon/evening/night/early morning so far, and they were all on sugar highs. Except for Brucie-kins, because apparently sugar highs are a way of losing control, and no one wants that, now, do they?, and the dear Captain, because of his crazy metabolism or something.

The point was that everyone was bouncing, and laughing and chattering, and yet silent and attentive throughout the movies. They were like little kids. And Loki was upside-down on the couch, his knees bent over the back, hips bent where it met the seat, his back on the seat, and his head dangling over the edge. He'd been like that for an entire movie, and had sat upright for their final one, and Tony had remarked on how not-red his face was. Loki had shot a glare at him, and he'd edged away slightly, the incident where he'd been a human pretzel very clear in his mind.

So The Emperor's New Groove played through, and everyone was tired and bouncy, and laughing, and loved it! And then it got to the end of the movie, and Natasha put her head on the side, looked at the two of them on the couch and said,

"You know, if you replaced Kuzco with Tony, and Yzma with Loki, the entire plot would remain the same."

Tony felt like doing a victory dance. Someone else had noticed! He glanced to his side, noticed that Loki was deep in thought, and stood up.

"I had a hypothesis, before all this. There was a reason I chose all of these movies. Did anyone notice anything about the villains?"

"You want to quiz us now?" Clint looked slightly irritated as he spoke.

Tony shook his head, still buzzing from the sugar.

"Replace Scar with Loki and what happens?"

Everyone looked at him blankly. They didn't get it.

"Nothing," Came Loki's soft voice. "Nothing changes. All of the villains are based on me." He grinned up at Tony.

"Exactly! Wait, no. That's not what I-"

But Loki was already dancing around the room, as the others laughed uproariously.

"Disney based their villains on me! I'm famous! I am just that amazing~"

Tony sighed as he sat back down on the couch, thunking his aching head on the cushions as Loki calmed down.

The couch bent as a weight settled beside him, but he refused to open his eyes to the other Avengers' amused titters.

A whisper directly in his ear had him sitting bolt upright in surprise, and smashing the ex-villain with a pillow.

"Disney based their villains on me."

Of course, that led to a pillow fight that no one seemed to win.

But that is another story for another time.

Chapter Text

The pillow fight that the Avengers and Loki had was an all-on-all that Bruce sat out, along with Thor after the big guy accidentally sent Steve flying into the window (which Tony had reinforced after being sent flying through one of them).

Pillows had been flying everywhere; partially because people were throwing them, and partially because Loki was levitating a whole bunch of them around himself.

It was a massacre. Clint and Natasha had been using their crazy ninja skills against each other and the others. For a brief period they'd teamed up, and had taken down everyone except Loki, who had turned his floating pillows into a barricade, and had turned them against each other whilst they tried to get through his fortress, allowing the others time to recover and re-join.

"Romanov! It was Barton who used your shampoo!"

Well, the two of them fought viciously after that, because no one touched the Black Widow's shampoo and got away with it.

Tony had largely been hiding in the corner, and throwing pillows very precisely, not waiting to see if they'd hit their target (though the muffled thumps were usually a give-away) before moving to another corner.

There had been a moment when he'd thrown one at Loki as the God was distracted by Steve, and he'd hidden behind the couch for a little while after that, though the Trickster's screech of rage was completely spoiled by the childish giggles he'd dissolved into.

The fight had ended as Tony collapsed exhausted onto the couch and watched as Natasha and Clint fought. Clint was the only one who didn't see Loki sneak up behind him. Natasha continued fighting the Archer as the God whacked him over the head with a pillow.

The redhead had fallen to the floor in laughter, as Clint turned around, outraged. He had taken one look at Loki, bent double, tears streaming down his face in laughter, before he had joined Natasha on the floor. Steve had simply stood there, watching in amusement as everyone dragged themselves to their sleeping areas, the sugar wearing off.

Exhausted titters were still echoing around the room, when Tony was pushed off the couch.

"Hey!"

An amused, innocent face peered over the edge.

"Yes?" Loki asked.

"I was comfortable there," Tony was not pouting.

"Well here, have a pillow. Or three."

A mound of fluffy white thumped onto his face, and Tony growled as he stood up. He grabbed the pillows, hit Loki in the face with one, and sat on the other end of the couch, facing away from the God.

Something soft hit the back of his head, and he whipped around to find laughing green eyes watching him.

The pillow fight began anew.

Chapter Text

"No. Absolutely not."

That was Clint's reaction when Thor had invited him to Christmas dinner with the others.

But Thor had just looked at him with those big puppy eyes and Clint had given in. After all, the other Avengers were all going to be there, plus Tony's boyfriend.

Things were still tense around him, and Clint still hadn't quite forgiven him. Pepper was upset at first, but she saw how happy Tony was. And they'd been going out for just under two months now, probably sleeping together before that.

He'd been through the threats from the Avengers. The usual ones of 'if you dare harm him…'

Though Natasha's had definitely been the most creative…

He'd actually gone paler after hearing it.

Of course, Thor was the only one who'd threatened Tony.

So Clint had been spending less time around the others when the two were together.

Which was always.

But really, it's kind of difficult to forgive a guy who'd taken over your mind.

 

Everyone was there, and Loki had walked out of the kitchen just as Clint had arrived looking so domestic that the assassin had burst out laughing.

He was wearing cooking mitts. They were red and green and Christmassy and it just looked so absurd that he couldn't breathe properly.

And Loki was scowling, and Tony was smirking, and pulling the huffy god into his arms and kissing him gently before pushing him gently back into the kitchen with a 'don't let the cake burn.'

The table was set, and everything on it looked positively delicious. Clint discovered that Loki had made most of it after Tony almost blew up the kitchen trying to do the ham. No one quite knew how, and the moment Thor had brought it up, Loki's face had darkened so much that Tony had slowly crept away.

They went straight to dinner, and Clint whined about presents like the child he was. Natasha shut him up by slapping him on the back of the head, and earned a black stare for it as the marksman rubbed the area.

Loki came out and placed the cake in the center, and everyone drooled at it. It was huge and white, and iced beautifully with Christmas decorations. Tony tried to reach for some icing, and was slapped on the hand for his efforts.

He whined for a few seconds before Loki glared at him, silent and ice cold.

Tony looked up at him, before widening his eyes comically.

"Not even a little taste?" He stuck his bottom lip out.

Loki's gaze was unwavering.

"Not until you've eaten your dinner," Were his first words of the evening, accompanied by an evil smirk, "And not until you've eaten your vegetables."

The billionaire choked in horror and was begging Loki not to make him do this as the impassive god walked back to the kitchen to take off his oven mitts, and Pepper was laughing so hard she was almost in tears.

By the time Loki got back, Tony was sulking in his chair like a petulant child, and Pepper was wiping tears from her eyes and calling him whipped.

 

Tony sat like a petulant child at the head of the table, picking slowly at the roasted vegetables.

The Avengers watched him silently, growing impatient, before finally Clint stood up and slammed his hands on the tabletop.

'Alright, this is it, I've had enough' he yelled.

He reached for the knife, Natasha began to stand and Clint cut himself a large slice of the cake, slapped it dramatically onto his plate and began to eat.

Much to the relief of Bruce and the final straw for Tony.

"Seriously! The Hawk is eating the cake, Loki come on, I'm not allowed to, why can he!" Tony ranted, gesticulating wildly at Clint eating the cake and Loki at the other end of the table watching the explosion, the slight smirk being the only betrayal of enjoyment on his blank features.

The other Avengers shuffled in their seats as Tony ranted, just waiting for a nerve to be struck and for Loki to lose all composure. Thor particularly would prefer to prevent this occurring, he wanted cake too.

"Are you quite done" spoke Loki finally, effectively cutting Tony off, as his mouth opened and no sound came out, he waved his arms a bit more, then sunk back into his seat.

Loki stood, looking every bit the royalty he was,

"Let them eat cake" he said with a smile.

As Clint started to garble about how the source of the quote had their head cut off, he was quickly silenced by Natasha with a hand across the head, "Cognitive recalibration" she muttered as she reached for her slice.

And for a just a moment the Avengers mansion was silent, well other than the frankly horrific noise of Thor demolishing the rest of the cake.

Loki smiled; warm and sincere, but no on saw, then outside the mansion it began to snow.

Chapter Text

"Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go."

"Yes. Thank you for your input, Stark."

"Oscar Wilde said that. I think you're more the second type. So, if you wouldn't mind leaving, that'd be great."

Loki rolled his eyes and pulled the glass from Tony's hand.

"I don't think so. I doubt my presence could cause any more misery than you are already in."

Tony made a futile effort to grab at the glass, ending up half-lying in Loki's lap.

"Not true," he muttered petulantly. "Give me back my scotch."

Loki smirked, before uttering an absolute "No."

And then the glass was gone, and Tony was upright with a lap full of mischievous god.

Tony pushed him off. Or tried to, but his wrists were caught by strong hands, his lips subsequently caught by wicked, wicked…

No.

Tony pinched his lips together and pulled back, glaring angrily.

"I'm mad at you, remember?"

Loki laughed softly.

"I know, Stark. But that's no reason to drink yourself into a stupor."

There was a brief struggle as Tony tried once more to get free. Loki simply pulled him closer, pressing his finger briefly to the drunk billionaire's temple.

Brown eyes unfocussed, and re-focused, before a venomous glare met amused green orbs.

"I hate that spell."

Loki laughed softly.

"No. You just hate being sober."

"Basically the same thing. Now get off me. I'm mad at you."

Once more, Loki shook his head.

"I'm here to apologise, Anthony."

The genius froze.

"Please repeat that."

The Trickster rolled his eyes.

"You heard me. I refuse to repeat it."

There was a brief hesitation, a moment of internal struggle, before Tony attached his lips to the god's.

Silence reigned for long moments, before Tony glared once more.

"You do know that was my favourite car, right?"

"Yes Anthony."

"And you do know that you repairing the damage with magic doesn't change the fact you crashed it, right?"

"Yes Anthony."

"And you are aware that you are never going to drive one of my cars again, aren't you."

"Certainly dear."

"And you do-"

"Tony."

There was a glare as Loki interrupted him, but the god widened his eyes, a looked down at the inventor through lowered lashes.

He lowered his voice, and bent to Tony's ear.

"I do believe I have to make it up to you."

In Tony's mind, they couldn't make it to the bedroom fast enough.