The Devil You Know 6

[maverikloki]

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A/N: Not as much humor in this chapter, but I have my reasons. And it wouldn't be one of my stories without some hurt/comfort, eh? ;)

Vulnerable

The flames were bright and blurred, an orange glow beyond the fog of his vision. The smell of gas was dizzyingly strong. Juxtaposed with the glowing orange in the background were speckles of red in the foreground, a dark, almost black red with flecks of orange reflecting off the sides. Tony coughed, and more red spattered the dashboard.

He tried to push himself up, to dislodge the steering wheel from his sternum where it caged in his arc reactor, but his limbs and body felt so heavy.

One blink, then another, slower, heavier, and Tony willed himself to keep his eyes open, to stare through the wreckage of blood-smeared glass and beyond at the shadows on the other side of the fiery glow. Here he was, Iron Man, after walking away from battles against some of the universe's craziest residents, dying in a car accident after his airbag had failed to deploy. How disappointingly ordinary. He had even worn a seat-belt.

He choked out a laugh. If there was a God - like, one omnipotent Being, not some Asgardian tourist - then He had one fucked up sense of humor.

Blood and foam gathered at the corner of his lips, and Tony decided that laughter, even ironic laughter, was a no-go. God, he was cold, and wasn't that weird, when he was surrounded by fire and choking on smoke?

He thunked his head back against the headrest and let his eyes flutter closed again. Pale skin and green eyes swam through his thoughts, and he suddenly felt alone and so, so scared. The car would blow any moment, now, and then what? He didn't want to die like this. Not alone.

Tony felt a hand against his cheek, cold and long and familiar. He dared not open his eyes in case it dispelled the illusion.

Loki, he mouthed, not daring to speak when breathing alone hurt so bad. Lokilokiloki...

White-hot, excruciating pain seared through his body, and the steering wheel was wrenched out of his sternum. Tony screamed.

Then he opened his eyes, and he was lying on the ground, wet grass tickling his cheek and neck. The orange glow of the wreckage was far in the distance. He must have blacked out.

There was a face leaning over him with ghost-pale skin and bright, wild eyes. There was a hand on his chest and stomach, keeping his organs from spilling out. Tony recognized the itch of healing magic skittering over his skin.

Loki. His Loki. Oh, thank God.

“H-Hey,” Tony wheezed once his lungs had knitted themselves back together.

Loki's eyes were still wild, still bright, and the whites glowed orange in the light of the burning wreckage. Then there was a hand on Tony's throat, grip just this side of too-tight. Loki tightened his grip and pressed his face to Tony's. Those wild green eyes filled Tony's vision.

“Not like that,” Loki said in a fierce, trembling hiss. “I can't lose you. Do you understand me? Not like that!”

“L-Loki,” Tony stuttered, voice little more than a breathy wheeze. “You're h-hurting me.”

“Good!” Loki shouted hoarsely, shaking Tony by the throat in emphasis. “You deserve it, you stupid, selfish bastard!”

Tony watched as Loki's eyes and cheeks glinted in the firelight, and he realized that the god was crying. Hot tears fell against Tony's face and slid down the curve of his cheek. Tony lifted a heavy, shaking hand to cup Loki's wet cheek.

“It's okay,” he said. “I'm okay.”

Something in Loki's eyes wavered, and his jaw muscles fluttered as he grit his teeth. Tony reached for him, tugging him down until they laid chest to chest, and Tony was surrounded by his smell and his weight. Stiffly, Loki complied, all sharp angles and tensed muscles. Slowly, he sank against the human, buried his face in the crook of Tony's neck, clutched the tattered and soiled remains of the human's shirt, and blew out a ragged sigh.

“Not like that,” he said again.

Shaking and exhausted but alive, Tony wrapped his arms about the god and breathed him in.

The air was thick with smoke, with fire and screams, and adrenaline pulsed through Tony's body. There was a time not so long ago when he thought he was the only one crazy enough to do this, to walk towards danger instead of away from it. Now all he had to do was look to either side, to catch a glimpse of Thor or Steve or Clint or Natasha, to know that he wasn't alone in his stupidity. He smiled behind his metal mask. A group of adrenaline junkies - that's all they were - channeling their craziness into something productive, like convicts picking up trash on the side of the road.

For some reason, that made him think of Loki, and he wondered what the Trickster was up to. It had been three weeks since Tony had seen him, after the car crash, but God, it had seemed like forever.

It was amazing how much could change in the course of a few months.

And then a laser seared a hole in the ground a foot in front of him, and Tony decided that the introspection could wait.

The creatures they were fighting were ugly, eight-legged things - probably aliens of some sort, though Tony had zoned out during Coulson's two-minute briefing. When another laser-like missile shot out from the gun-thing in one of eight limbs, Tony decided that he really ought to pay more attention to these things.

He shot his repulsors at the nearest monstrosity, but the blast seemed to bounce off an invisible wall.

“Hmm.”

He knew that Clint was at his back from the twang of his bowstring, and an arrow whizzed by his ear and into the shoulder of the nearest monster. The creature shrieked in two octaves. Tony shot a glare over his shoulder, though Clint couldn't see it.

“A little more warning would be nice,” he said.

Clint flipped him off before nocking another arrow.

Tony had been keeping an eye on the wounded creature right in front of him, but he was not prepared for the impact that came from behind and that sent dagger-like shocks of pain rippling along his left side. He made to turn and shoot off a missile and... didn't.

His suit had locked up, frozen, leaving Tony trapped inside.

“Jarvis?”

His AI was silent.

“Keep calm, Tony,” he told himself, even as he felt his chest and throat constrict in the beginning stages of hyperventilation. “Keep calm, dammit.”

Around him, the battle still raged, which Tony caught fleeting glimpses of through the suit's eye-slits, a flash of explosion here, an extra limb there...

“Tony!” Steve shouted from somewhere. “Move, you idiot!”

“Help!” he shouted, praying that Hawkeye was still close enough to hear. He pushed against his suit, but the damn thing was too well-designed to give under his measly strength. “Someone, please!”

“Tony!” Clint, farther away. Dammit.

A shadow fell over him, and one of those ugly, eight-legged creatures filled his sight. It cocked its head and stared at him, making odd clicking noises in the back of its throat that Tony suspected was laughter.

“Oh shit,” he muttered as it leveled a pair of its strange guns at him. “Mommy.”

A flash of obscenely bright green light left him seeing spots, and he heard another split-voiced shriek, only louder and more anguished. When he realized he wasn't dead, Tony blinked and squinted, trying to make sense of what had happened.

He heard the crunch of debris under someone's foot, and then Loki's helmeted head filled his vision. The god turned to look at him, frowning in either long-suffering or boredom, and shook his head with a “tsk”.

Loki reached up and pushed back the human's visor, and Tony let out a long, shaky breath. It was like breathing for the first time, the breeze cold against his sweat-slick face. Loki arched one fine eyebrow, still looking terribly bored.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Tony said. What he meant was, Thank you thank you thank you it's so good to see you Loki I missed you -

“Having a little trouble?” Loki asked.

Tony looked about him as best he could. The battle seemed to have ended abruptly, and from all the gore and extra limbs splayed about, he suspected Loki had something to do with it.

“A bit.”

Steve entered his field of vision, his cowl thrown back and his expression both questioning and wary as he looked between Tony and Loki.

“A little help?” Tony prompted.

Loki eyed him for a long moment, lips twitching in an echo of a smile, as though trying to decide how to take advantage of this.

“Please?” Tony added. He was going to start hyper-ventilating again if he didn't get out of this thing soon.

Something in Loki's expression softened, and, with a click of his fingers, Tony's suit hummed back to life. He blew out another shaky breath and pulled off his helmet and gauntlets. Then he wasted no time in crushing Loki against him and kissing him hard enough to suck out his soul. Loki squeaked in surprise and glared, only to twine his long fingers in Tony's hair and respond with equal gusto.

Behind him, Tony heard Clint making fake barfing sounds. He extricated one hand long enough to give him the middle finger.

Tony didn't ask where Loki had been the past three weeks, and Loki didn't tell him. They spent the next twenty-four hours in Tony's bed, making up for lost time.

“Spar with me.”

“Mm?” Tony let his head loll against the back of the couch until he could see Loki standing over him. The god was adjusting his bracers, his face tight. “By sparring do you mean, 'sparring'?” Tony waggled his eyebrows.

Tony knew that Loki wasn't in the mood when his only response was a warning glance and, “You know what I mean, Anthony.” The teasing smile died on Tony's lips, and he sat up to better look at the Trickster.

Loki looked tired but determined, his jaw set and his forehead and eyes lined with wrinkles that hadn't been there yesterday. “Well?” he prompted tersely.

Tony swallowed. “Yeah,” he said, though he felt off-balance. “Yeah, just let me get my suit.”

“No.”

Tony paused in the motion of rising from the couch. He looked back at Loki with his brows furrowed in a question.

“No armor,” Loki said, and Tony knew there was no arguing with That Look.

Tony slowly pushed himself to his feet. “But without my armor, I'm - ”

“Useless?” Loki snapped. “Exactly. Now, move!”

“Now, hang on just a minute - !”

But Loki had already spun on his heel and was walking away, leaving Tony shouting at his retreating and decidedly uninterested back.

Tony cursed and kicked the leg of his sofa.

The fifth time Tony found himself on his back - and not in the fun way - he decided that he had had enough. He winced and pushed himself up onto his elbows.

“Loki -” he began.

“Again!” Loki whacked him in the thigh with his makeshift quarterstaff. The god paced back and forth, his jaw set and his fingers tapping against the wood in agitation.

Tony pursed his lips and called upon a half-forgotten martial arts move Natasha had taught him a while back. He pushed himself up on his arms and grabbed Loki about the legs with his thighs, twisting just so to bring the god hurtling to the ground with him. Tony had just long enough to savor the wide-eyed look of surprise on Loki's face before the god hit the mat next to him, glaring at Tony with eyes like daggers.

“That doesn't count!” Loki snapped, pulling himself free and pushing himself up. Tony grabbed him by the shoulders and held him in place.

“Just hang on a minute, will you?” Tony said, keeping his voice soft, almost gentle. He found that shouting only made Loki escalate. He tilted his head and widened his eyes in the pseudo puppy-dog look that worked so well on Pepper and Steve. Loki eyed him narrowly but stilled, and the two of them sat cross-legged across from each other. “Loki, what's going on?”

“What's 'going on', human, is that we were sparring up until a moment ago...”

Tony arced an eyebrow at Loki, unimpressed, in imitation of a Lokean look he was all too familiar with. Loki trailed off at that look and frowned down at his hands.

Tony studied him for a long moment. Even when he was being a pain in the ass, Loki was gorgeous, too striking to be mistaken for human, and Tony still couldn't believe sometimes that this contrary, frustrating creature was his.

He wished he could remember why the thought of monogamy was supposed to scare him.

“Does this have to do with the other day when my suit malfunctioned? Or... a few weeks ago, in the car accident?”

Loki had an impressive poker face, but Tony was starting to pick up on his tells. There was the tiniest tightening at the corner of Loki's eyes that Tony knew meant he had been found out.

He realized that Loki was worried about him, and he had to fight not to smile.

“So you... want me to learn how to fight better in case something like that happens again?”

Loki looked at him but did not make eye contact. “It wouldn't hurt,” he said evenly. “You're of no use to me dead.”

Tony frowned, knowing Loki was holding him at arms' length because he was afraid of seeming vulnerable. He of all people could understand that, but...

“Look,” Tony sighed. “I'm never going to be as good at this as you or Thor or Steve. And there's no way in hell I'm ever going to be able to move like Natasha! I mean, whoa - but, uh, not the point.” Tony cleared his throat awkwardly. “I can hold my own in a fight with another regular human, but against the type of guys we're called to fight, my little kung fu moves aren't going to cut it. That's why I have the suit in the first place.”

Loki regarded him, again with that closed off expression that made Tony squirm and sweat. He wanted to kiss that look off his face, to pry the mask off with his bare hands and watch the god unravel the way he did in bed. He loved Loki like that, open and vulnerable and his.

“And if the suit malfunctions?” Loki asked. “Or if you don't have it? You are far too reliant on your own technology. Your greatest strength could easily become your greatest weakness.” Loki blew out a shaky breath. “I know because I know how your enemies think. If I ever wanted to do away with the Avengers for good, I would 'divide and conquer', as you would say. All I would have to do is get you alone, without your suit.”

The mask cracked just enough, and Tony saw something like fear or worry flit through those green, green eyes.

Tony felt his mouth run dry. The sweat felt cold against his back, his temples, and his palms. Deep, deep in the back of his mind, he had always been afraid of just that. Everyone knew who he was, and there were nights when he went to sleep wondering if he would ever wake up.

The thing was, he had never really cared before.

But here was Loki, in all his imperfect, screwed up perfection, needing him as much as Tony needed Loki. He would not like it if Loki were the vulnerable one, and he realized then that by not caring about his own well-being, he was being selfish.

Figures.

He took Loki's hand in his, running his thumb along the knuckles, and took heart when Loki did not pull away. Loki watched him warily, his expression closed off again.

“Loki, even if I get stuck like that, again, going Jet Lee on everyone's asses isn't going to help if I can't even move.” Tony sighed and ran a hand through his sweat-lank hair. “I get it,” Tony said. “I do. But I'm only human.”

Another crack in the mask, and Loki winced. “Well, you need something,” he persisted. “I rely on my magic, but I can fight when the need arises - ”

“Magic,” Tony blurted, squeezing Loki's fingers without meaning to. He grinned. “Well, then why don't you teach me magic?”

Loki's mouth hung open for a long moment as he - for once - struggled to find words. “Tony,” he began haltingly. “I... thought you hated magic.”

“Well, yeah, but,” Tony continued, “think about it. Everyone knows I rely on technology. The last thing they would expect is for me to pull some magic out of my ass! Especially since I hate it so much.”

If it would make Loki stop worrying, he figured he could do it.

Loki chewed on his lip and regarded Tony, his expression more curious than wary now. He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. “That is... surprisingly shrewd of you,” he said. He smiled in a way that told Tony that this was a compliment. “I make no promises, but I suppose I could try.”

Anything else he might have said was lost against Tony's lips as the human kissed him.

Loki cupped Tony's face affectionately when he paused for breath. “You are a fool,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” Tony said softly, running a hand down the pale column of Loki's throat. “Yeah, I know.”

Footnote: Thank you for the comments, guys! They - and you - are a huge inspiration, and I'm always eager to hear what you think. You are my muses.

Okay, that's a lie. Loki's my muse, but your comments appease him and keep him from feeding me to Fenrir. *whimper*