The Devil You Know 11
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A/N: Firstly, thank you for all the comments, faves, etc. and, really, just for reading! If you've come this far, then you've likely been in this 'verse a while, which is in itself a major compliment. HUGS FOR EVERYONE! *sniffle*
Secondly, sorry for taking so long, but I was distracted by... other Loki-related things. I have discovered roleplaying Loki, and Tumblr will never be the same! :]
Love is a Four-Letter Word, Part I
The way he sprawled across Tony's bed like a long-limbed octopus. The way his feet twitched in his sleep, and the way he snapped and growled in a variety of languages in the morning until someone gave him his "godsdamned coffee".
The way he said, "The Google." The way he was puzzled by the internet's "Book of Faces".
The way his hair curled and frizzed in high humidity, and the way he glared at Tony each time he caught the human tugging on his spring-loaded curls.
The way he arched an eyebrow in an impressive, "Oh really?" face whenever Tony got too big for his britches. The way his nostrils flared whenever Tony was getting on his nerves, and the way he put up with the idiot human anyway.
The way he smiled affectionately and said, "You're a fool," when what he meant was -
Was -
Oh.
Pepper was grinning at him now.
"Stop it," he growled, trying to figure out what to do with this latest revelation.
Pepper's grin widened.
Tony closed his eyes in resignation. He was screwed.
"Oh, Anthony, darling!" Loki knocked on Tony's workshop door, grinning. He'd much rather just teleport inside, but Tony had expressed his displeasure at this the last time, stating that Loki had scared the "bejeebus" out of him. Scaring out someone's "bejeebus" was not conducive to delicate work, apparently, and he had almost given poor Tony a heart attack.
So knocking it was.
Moments passed in silence, and Loki frowned.
"Tony?" he called, knocking a second time. He pressed his ear to the door and finally heard sounds of movement from within. He smiled and drew back at the sound of familiar footsteps.
The footsteps stopped on the other side of the door, and the door opened a crack. The hallway illuminated the left side of Tony's face.
"Yeah?" he said. His voice sounded light, but he looked wary as he eyed Loki through the crack in the door.
Loki's brows knit at this. Usually Tony was eager to greet him, especially when they hadn't seen each other in a few days, but Loki decided to let it slide. For now.
"Would you be free for a movie night?" Loki asked, brandishing a DVD and hearing the disk rattle inside. "Steven informed me that that horrid movie we watched last week has a sequel, and I did so enjoy mocking the last one."
Loki saw this as a generous gesture on his part. "Movie Nights" were a decidedly Midgardian tradition that Loki was fairly ambivalent towards. He did not enjoy sitting idly for two hours, even if Tony made him popcorn and sat pleasantly pressed against him, but he knew that Tony needed such things to relax. He thought he'd compromise by getting a movie he knew he could verbally eviscerate.
Yet Loki recognized discomfort in the tap of Tony's fingers against the door, in the shift of weight from one foot to the other. His eyes narrowed at the obviously fake smile Tony offered him.
"That... that sounds great, Loki, but I'm kind of busy."
He was lying. Why was he lying?
Loki used magic to feel out the room behind Tony. He let out a breath he did not know he was holding when he saw that Tony was alone and had been alone in there for hours.
"We could do something else, if you prefer," Loki offered with a shrug, trying not to let this rejection sting. Tony might be his, but he was still a mortal. And no mortal should make him feel so foolish.
"I said I was busy, Loki," Tony suddenly snapped. The door slammed in his face, and Loki reeled back two steps.
He gawped at the closed door and, once the shock and indignation had sloughed off, felt anger wrap a hand around his throat.
Tony slid down the wall until his rump hit the floor. "Oh, Tony, what're you doing," he murmured, running a hand through his hair.
He knew Loki was going to make him regret that and winced when he heard what sounded like glass shattering.
"Sir -"
"Yeah, yeah, Jarvis, I know," Tony groused. "Leave him be."
Three days later, Tony was still in his workshop (he had convinced Pepper to bring him a few TV dinners, though he could have done without the judging stare and the lecture). He was in desperate need of a shower and a shave. Later, he kept telling himself. By now his suits were upgraded, oiled, and polished, which only made him feel grungier in comparison.
He knew he was being a coward, that he was running away. He blasted Black Sabbath until he couldn't hear his own disparaging thoughts.
Steve knocked, Thor knocked, and Pepper knocked, but unless they were accompanied by food or coffee, he ignored them and turned up the music.
And then, on the third day, Loki knocked. Tony recognized his pattern, three raps from a single knuckle, and he could almost see the square knuckles and lithe fingers on the other side of the door. At first, Tony did not answer, and then came a second knock and Loki's voice.
"Tony."
Not a greeting or a question. A statement. A command.
Tony sighed and had Jarvis put on the intercom. "Yeah?" he said, sounding tired, calm, maybe even irritated.
"Your friends say you've been in there for days."
"Yeah?" Tony said again, because multiple syllables took too much effort.
A pause, long and uncomfortable, and then, softly, "Are you well?"
"I'm fine," Tony lied. Two syllables were manageable, he supposed.
Another pause, and Tony knew Loki was struggling. To him, showing concern - real concern - was synonymous with showing vulnerability. Somewhere past the numbness and the worry, Tony felt... warm, knowing that Loki was at least trying.
But Tony was just as afraid of being vulnerable, so he said, "Just leave me alone, Loki."
Silence followed, and Tony closed his eyes, knowing that Loki had done just that.
You're going to lose him if you're not careful, Tony told himself.
But in a way, that would solve the problem. The path of least resistance.
He hated himself for even considering it.
Loki prowled about his apartment, entertaining himself and blowing off steam by using his toaster as target practice. After being bounced around the room, the appliance exploded in a confetti of metal bits. Loki smiled tightly in something akin to satisfaction and returned to his pacing, feeling toaster-remnants crunch underfoot.
"I am a god," he growled to himself. "A king among gods."
And Tony Stark seemed to have forgotten that.
Loki would wait this out, wait for the human to come crawling back to him, to beg forgiveness on his knees like any human should.
And if he doesn't? a voice sneered inside his head.
Loki closed his eyes and pressed his thumb and middle finger to his temples. "He will," he told himself with conviction he didn't feel.
What if he tires of you?
"He won't."
You know he is going to eventually. Why not now?
Loki sat heavily at the kitchen table and buried his face in his hands.
This was the point where normally he would lay waste to a small city, hunt giants with Thor, or carry out a particularly malicious prank. To distract himself from the boredom, the stillness... from himself.
But he knew he could not do any of those things. Not without compromising what he had with Tony.
Acknowledging this rankled.
"You've let a human tame you," he murmured to himself.
"Agent Coulson," Fury said. The agent addressed perked up and watched him attentively. They were nearing the end of the presentation, and Fury just wanted to get this last section over with so that he could go home, put up his feet, and watch TV. "If you would be so kind as to put up the overview of Project Theta..."
The play of lights behind him shifted, which he could see reflected off the black surface of the table in front of him, and Fury cleared his throat, ready to continue.
Except that music suddenly blared from the speakers: "Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down..."
Fury closed his eye and took deep, calming breaths. Next to him, Coulson was staring at the screen, eyes wide in surprise but lips pressed firmly together as though to keep from laughing.
"What the Hell is this?" Fury growled to him.
Coulson shrugged helplessly and said, "We appear to have been Rick Roll'd, sir."
Around the table, heads were bowed in quiet laughter.
"More like Loki'd," Fury growled. "Shut the damn thing off."
Safely ensconced in invisibility, Loki watched Fury's expression and chuckled, feeling much better.
"Director Fury on the line for you, sir."
"Wonderful," Tony groused. "Thanks, Jarvis. Put 'im on speaker."
He continued dishing out hot dogs - it was his night to cook, which meant that sulking was no longer an option, if a certain archer and thunder god had anything to say for it - and Clint and Thor crowded him around the counter, eyeing the food like a pair of dogs vying for table scraps. Tony shook his head and tried to swat them away.
"Shoo," he said. "Play dead."
"Mr. Stark," came Fury's voice over the speaker. He sounded strained, likely irritated, but Tony expected no different.
"Fury," Tony sighed in reply, smacking Thor's hand away as the god tried to steal a hot dog. "Wash your hands first, kiddies," he said to Thor and Clint.
"You need to keep closer tabs on your boyfriend," Fury said, and Tony froze. He and Thor exchanged worried looks.
Oh, God, Tony thought. Please don't tell me he killed someone.
"What did he do?" he asked, turning to address the room at large.
Clint took advantage of his distraction to nab and start munching happily on a hot dog. He paused, mid-chew, to slather it with ketchup.
There was a long pause, during which Tony feared the worst.
"He Rick Roll'd us during a presentation."
Clint choked on his hot dog and doubled over, half coughing, half laughing. Thor eyed him in bemusement and patted him on the back until the human had stopped choking. Tony was little better, his own shoulders shaking with laughter.
"Oh, God," Tony choked out. "Dammit, Fury! You made me think he had gone over to the dark side again, or something."
"Rick Rolling?" Clint chortled. "If that's not the dark side, I don't know what is!"
"What is this 'Rick Rolling'?" Thor asked, brows knit in confusion.
"It's not funny," Fury ground out.
"It's a little funny," Tony insisted.
"It's a breach of security!" Fury snapped.
"Oh, come on!" Tony replied. "Of all the things he could have done, he went for something completely harmless. He was probably just bored. Will you relax?"
"Mr. Stark," Fury said in a tone that brooked no argument. "You are to make it clear to your boy-toy that messing around with government facilities is no laughing matter."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll send him a memo."
Fury clicked off without so much as a good-bye.
"What is this Rick Roll'd?" Thor asked again with considerably less patience.
Tony snickered and shook his head.
"Shall I call Mr. Laufeyson?" Jarvis asked.
Tony almost said, "Yes," only to stop and think about it for a moment. "No, I..." he said instead, "I'll talk to him later."
Thor eyed him strangely, but Tony just went back to dealing with the hot dogs.
Footnote: If you don't know what Rick Rolling is, I envy you. *points at google*
A/N: Firstly, thank you for all the comments, faves, etc. and, really, just for reading! If you've come this far, then you've likely been in this 'verse a while, which is in itself a major compliment. HUGS FOR EVERYONE! *sniffle*
Secondly, sorry for taking so long, but I was distracted by... other Loki-related things. I have discovered roleplaying Loki, and Tumblr will never be the same! :]
Love is a Four-Letter Word, Part I
The way he sprawled across Tony's bed like a long-limbed octopus. The way his feet twitched in his sleep, and the way he snapped and growled in a variety of languages in the morning until someone gave him his "godsdamned coffee".
The way he said, "The Google." The way he was puzzled by the internet's "Book of Faces".
The way his hair curled and frizzed in high humidity, and the way he glared at Tony each time he caught the human tugging on his spring-loaded curls.
The way he arched an eyebrow in an impressive, "Oh really?" face whenever Tony got too big for his britches. The way his nostrils flared whenever Tony was getting on his nerves, and the way he put up with the idiot human anyway.
The way he smiled affectionately and said, "You're a fool," when what he meant was -
Was -
Oh.
Pepper was grinning at him now.
"Stop it," he growled, trying to figure out what to do with this latest revelation.
Pepper's grin widened.
Tony closed his eyes in resignation. He was screwed.
"Oh, Anthony, darling!" Loki knocked on Tony's workshop door, grinning. He'd much rather just teleport inside, but Tony had expressed his displeasure at this the last time, stating that Loki had scared the "bejeebus" out of him. Scaring out someone's "bejeebus" was not conducive to delicate work, apparently, and he had almost given poor Tony a heart attack.
So knocking it was.
Moments passed in silence, and Loki frowned.
"Tony?" he called, knocking a second time. He pressed his ear to the door and finally heard sounds of movement from within. He smiled and drew back at the sound of familiar footsteps.
The footsteps stopped on the other side of the door, and the door opened a crack. The hallway illuminated the left side of Tony's face.
"Yeah?" he said. His voice sounded light, but he looked wary as he eyed Loki through the crack in the door.
Loki's brows knit at this. Usually Tony was eager to greet him, especially when they hadn't seen each other in a few days, but Loki decided to let it slide. For now.
"Would you be free for a movie night?" Loki asked, brandishing a DVD and hearing the disk rattle inside. "Steven informed me that that horrid movie we watched last week has a sequel, and I did so enjoy mocking the last one."
Loki saw this as a generous gesture on his part. "Movie Nights" were a decidedly Midgardian tradition that Loki was fairly ambivalent towards. He did not enjoy sitting idly for two hours, even if Tony made him popcorn and sat pleasantly pressed against him, but he knew that Tony needed such things to relax. He thought he'd compromise by getting a movie he knew he could verbally eviscerate.
Yet Loki recognized discomfort in the tap of Tony's fingers against the door, in the shift of weight from one foot to the other. His eyes narrowed at the obviously fake smile Tony offered him.
"That... that sounds great, Loki, but I'm kind of busy."
He was lying. Why was he lying?
Loki used magic to feel out the room behind Tony. He let out a breath he did not know he was holding when he saw that Tony was alone and had been alone in there for hours.
"We could do something else, if you prefer," Loki offered with a shrug, trying not to let this rejection sting. Tony might be his, but he was still a mortal. And no mortal should make him feel so foolish.
"I said I was busy, Loki," Tony suddenly snapped. The door slammed in his face, and Loki reeled back two steps.
He gawped at the closed door and, once the shock and indignation had sloughed off, felt anger wrap a hand around his throat.
Tony slid down the wall until his rump hit the floor. "Oh, Tony, what're you doing," he murmured, running a hand through his hair.
He knew Loki was going to make him regret that and winced when he heard what sounded like glass shattering.
"Sir -"
"Yeah, yeah, Jarvis, I know," Tony groused. "Leave him be."
Three days later, Tony was still in his workshop (he had convinced Pepper to bring him a few TV dinners, though he could have done without the judging stare and the lecture). He was in desperate need of a shower and a shave. Later, he kept telling himself. By now his suits were upgraded, oiled, and polished, which only made him feel grungier in comparison.
He knew he was being a coward, that he was running away. He blasted Black Sabbath until he couldn't hear his own disparaging thoughts.
Steve knocked, Thor knocked, and Pepper knocked, but unless they were accompanied by food or coffee, he ignored them and turned up the music.
And then, on the third day, Loki knocked. Tony recognized his pattern, three raps from a single knuckle, and he could almost see the square knuckles and lithe fingers on the other side of the door. At first, Tony did not answer, and then came a second knock and Loki's voice.
"Tony."
Not a greeting or a question. A statement. A command.
Tony sighed and had Jarvis put on the intercom. "Yeah?" he said, sounding tired, calm, maybe even irritated.
"Your friends say you've been in there for days."
"Yeah?" Tony said again, because multiple syllables took too much effort.
A pause, long and uncomfortable, and then, softly, "Are you well?"
"I'm fine," Tony lied. Two syllables were manageable, he supposed.
Another pause, and Tony knew Loki was struggling. To him, showing concern - real concern - was synonymous with showing vulnerability. Somewhere past the numbness and the worry, Tony felt... warm, knowing that Loki was at least trying.
But Tony was just as afraid of being vulnerable, so he said, "Just leave me alone, Loki."
Silence followed, and Tony closed his eyes, knowing that Loki had done just that.
You're going to lose him if you're not careful, Tony told himself.
But in a way, that would solve the problem. The path of least resistance.
He hated himself for even considering it.
Loki prowled about his apartment, entertaining himself and blowing off steam by using his toaster as target practice. After being bounced around the room, the appliance exploded in a confetti of metal bits. Loki smiled tightly in something akin to satisfaction and returned to his pacing, feeling toaster-remnants crunch underfoot.
"I am a god," he growled to himself. "A king among gods."
And Tony Stark seemed to have forgotten that.
Loki would wait this out, wait for the human to come crawling back to him, to beg forgiveness on his knees like any human should.
And if he doesn't? a voice sneered inside his head.
Loki closed his eyes and pressed his thumb and middle finger to his temples. "He will," he told himself with conviction he didn't feel.
What if he tires of you?
"He won't."
You know he is going to eventually. Why not now?
Loki sat heavily at the kitchen table and buried his face in his hands.
This was the point where normally he would lay waste to a small city, hunt giants with Thor, or carry out a particularly malicious prank. To distract himself from the boredom, the stillness... from himself.
But he knew he could not do any of those things. Not without compromising what he had with Tony.
Acknowledging this rankled.
"You've let a human tame you," he murmured to himself.
"Agent Coulson," Fury said. The agent addressed perked up and watched him attentively. They were nearing the end of the presentation, and Fury just wanted to get this last section over with so that he could go home, put up his feet, and watch TV. "If you would be so kind as to put up the overview of Project Theta..."
The play of lights behind him shifted, which he could see reflected off the black surface of the table in front of him, and Fury cleared his throat, ready to continue.
Except that music suddenly blared from the speakers: "Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down..."
Fury closed his eye and took deep, calming breaths. Next to him, Coulson was staring at the screen, eyes wide in surprise but lips pressed firmly together as though to keep from laughing.
"What the Hell is this?" Fury growled to him.
Coulson shrugged helplessly and said, "We appear to have been Rick Roll'd, sir."
Around the table, heads were bowed in quiet laughter.
"More like Loki'd," Fury growled. "Shut the damn thing off."
Safely ensconced in invisibility, Loki watched Fury's expression and chuckled, feeling much better.
"Director Fury on the line for you, sir."
"Wonderful," Tony groused. "Thanks, Jarvis. Put 'im on speaker."
He continued dishing out hot dogs - it was his night to cook, which meant that sulking was no longer an option, if a certain archer and thunder god had anything to say for it - and Clint and Thor crowded him around the counter, eyeing the food like a pair of dogs vying for table scraps. Tony shook his head and tried to swat them away.
"Shoo," he said. "Play dead."
"Mr. Stark," came Fury's voice over the speaker. He sounded strained, likely irritated, but Tony expected no different.
"Fury," Tony sighed in reply, smacking Thor's hand away as the god tried to steal a hot dog. "Wash your hands first, kiddies," he said to Thor and Clint.
"You need to keep closer tabs on your boyfriend," Fury said, and Tony froze. He and Thor exchanged worried looks.
Oh, God, Tony thought. Please don't tell me he killed someone.
"What did he do?" he asked, turning to address the room at large.
Clint took advantage of his distraction to nab and start munching happily on a hot dog. He paused, mid-chew, to slather it with ketchup.
There was a long pause, during which Tony feared the worst.
"He Rick Roll'd us during a presentation."
Clint choked on his hot dog and doubled over, half coughing, half laughing. Thor eyed him in bemusement and patted him on the back until the human had stopped choking. Tony was little better, his own shoulders shaking with laughter.
"Oh, God," Tony choked out. "Dammit, Fury! You made me think he had gone over to the dark side again, or something."
"Rick Rolling?" Clint chortled. "If that's not the dark side, I don't know what is!"
"What is this 'Rick Rolling'?" Thor asked, brows knit in confusion.
"It's not funny," Fury ground out.
"It's a little funny," Tony insisted.
"It's a breach of security!" Fury snapped.
"Oh, come on!" Tony replied. "Of all the things he could have done, he went for something completely harmless. He was probably just bored. Will you relax?"
"Mr. Stark," Fury said in a tone that brooked no argument. "You are to make it clear to your boy-toy that messing around with government facilities is no laughing matter."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll send him a memo."
Fury clicked off without so much as a good-bye.
"What is this Rick Roll'd?" Thor asked again with considerably less patience.
Tony snickered and shook his head.
"Shall I call Mr. Laufeyson?" Jarvis asked.
Tony almost said, "Yes," only to stop and think about it for a moment. "No, I..." he said instead, "I'll talk to him later."
Thor eyed him strangely, but Tony just went back to dealing with the hot dogs.
Footnote: If you don't know what Rick Rolling is, I envy you. *points at google*