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Loki hated his weaknesses, despised himself for being sentimental. Frigga, Thor, his monster children, even that insufferable, infuriating old man, all of them made Loki vulnerable, the mutual affection clouded his judgement and weakened his will. He was loath to admit that he craved their attention, he was supposed to be independent and aloof, resistant to something as pointless as love.
So when he escaped Asgard and went to Midgard, he convinced himself he would not get attached to anyone there. After all, his major goal at that time was to at least scare the Iron Man, that arrogant fool, show him what happens to those who dare to threaten the god of mischief.
Loki was a skilled sorcerer, better than others, cunning and perceptive, for that reason he never expected to be tricked by a mortal. Tony Stark must have possessed some sort of Midgardian magic and somehow succeeded in wrapping Loki around his little finger. The vengeance, well-planned, now forgotten, all Loki care about was earning another smug smirk and impressing the inventor with his vast knowledge and complicated spells. They spent hours, days in Stark's workshop, improving the suits and talking. Loki struggled to remember everything he heard, the technical jargon Stark used didn't make it any easier.
'For a super old, extraterrestrial deity you're pretty smart,' Tony told him once and even if it sounded patronising, Loki chose to take it as a genuine praise. Of course he was smart, compared to, say, Thor.
One evening, when they both were already tired and covered with grease, Tony ordered food and decided to teach Loki about Midgardian cusine. Steaming, savoury, cheesy goodness warmed Loki and the last trace of his resentment melted away. It was so easy, sharing a meal with a jovial man, who was not repulsed by Loki's real parentage. Stark had no idea how detestable all Jotuns were, he even expressed his interest in Loki's shape shifting abilities, wondered how an abandoned, blue baby manged to change into a normal, pink baby. He never called Loki a monster, even though in Asgard 'Jotun' and 'monster' were actually synonymous.
At the end of the dinner, when Loki was examining the comforting properties of chocolate mousse and whipped cream, Stark took the last gulp of his amber drink and suddenly closed the distance between them. Loki, still holding his spoon, unable to say anything with a mouthful of Midgaridan sweetness, barely had any time to react, Stark moved closer to him and his face was just a few inches away from the confused god.
'What aw you dhoing?' Loki choked out, just to buy himself some time.
The only explanation Stark offered was a hand on Loki's shoulder, a rather delicate touch. That clarified his intentions a bit but did not eased Loki's inner turmoil. In the last moment, he tilted his head back, smoothly avoiding the kiss. To his horror, Stark just smiled, removed his hand and gave Loki a quick peck on his cheek, then casually sat back on his chair, as if nothing had happened. It could not be any more awkward, Loki howled inside, calling himself a stupid, stupid idiot, who would waste such an opportunity? Only Loki. What a tragedy, that's what one gets for falling prey to infatuation! Affection, love, it only led to extremely embarrassing moments like this! How were they going to move past this horrible incident? Loki would never be able to enjoy chocolate mousse again, it would always remind him of how he made a fool of himself.
'Have you ever tried apple pie?' Stark asked lightly as he finished his dessert. 'I know you guys like apples but do you bake apple pie? If not, I can get you some, you'll love it.'
So he wasn't angry? Offended? Disappointed? Loki watched him warily and finally swallowed the mousse. What was Stark playing at? Did he want to manipulate Loki- or maybe he tried to save his face? Talking about pies when they almost exchanged a kiss!
Fine. Loki could play that game, even without knowing the rules. Feeling bold, he dropped the spoon on the table and put his hand on Stark's knee. Tony glanced at his leg and then at Loki's face, he was clearly daring Loki to continue. Fine. Without closing his eyes, Loki leant forward and pressed his lips to Tony's. There. They kissed. Loki wasn't a blushing virgin nor a coward, he just needed a few seconds to collect his thoughts.
Stark froze. Loki did not predict that and froze as well, mid-kiss, his hand still on Stark's knee. Wasn't that what Tony planned? Maybe he never wanted to kiss Loki, maybe Loki misread the signs, oh gods, by Valhalla, that would be a whole new reason to destroy the Earth, quickly, before anyone would heard about Loki's idiocy, Thor would taunt him about this for centuries!
Then Stark cupped the back of Loki's knee and pulled him close, almost on his lap. Now Loki could taste the bitterness of whiskey mixed with the sweetness of the chocolate mousse, Tony finally kissed him properly, passionately.
Ugh. Yet another person to care about.