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“I’m not sure whether to be irritated or proud,” Tony remarked staring down at the webbing that was pinning his wrist to the steel bolted table. “I mean, his execution could use a little work, but all and all, he got what he wanted.”
Loki snorted and it made Tony look up at him.
He had both hands pinned to the table with webbing and the chessboard Peter had coaxed them into the room with was still between them, only he’d added two candles and lit them. He’d then had FRIDAY lock the penthouse and make certain to keep them in there.
“He got a facsimile of what he wanted. We are no more on a ‘date’ than we are ‘forced to remain’.”
As if to prove his point, Loki twisted his hands enough to be able to use a magical flame to melt through the webbing holding him to the table. When he was free, he sent his magic to free Tony’s hand.
The mage relaxed back against his chair once Tony was free and Tony slowly brought his gaze back to the other man. Loki was watching him carefully, but Tony was watching him just as warily.
“Well, if you’re not stuck here, there’s nothing to make you sit down to chess and a meal with me.”
“There is nothing stopping you leaving either,” Loki parried.
Yet, neither of them moved.
They remained staring at each other, uncertain about how to move forward.
They’d spent half a year pointedly ignoring the tension between them. There had always been a reason to pull back, look away and focus on something else; a battle, an interruption, the fear of one more rejection or heartbreak.
But Peter, full of youthful enthusiasm and the desire to see his two mentors happy, had taken matters into his own hands.
Tony knew he should stand up, walk away, do what they always did. But, somehow, he didn’t shift and he found himself asking, “How bad would it be if we, you know, played one game?”
Loki’s eyes flicked down to the chessboard before back to Tony, a surprising amount of uncertainty visible in his eyes. “Is that wise, Anthony?”
“Fuck, probably not,” Tony answered with a rough laugh. He also flashed Loki a small grin. “But we’re here; we’re not going to be interrupted and there’s a meal in the fridge with our name on it.”
“And I ask again,” Loki repeated, but with his voice much softer, “is that wise?”
Tony sighed and brought a hand to run through his hair. “How long can we really keep ignoring this, Loki?”
“How much satisfaction can you imagine us gaining from a single,” he paused, before saying; his voice laden with meaning, “game. One will not be enough, of that, I am certain.”
Tony found his eyes holding bright, intelligent green. “That doesn’t sound like the worst outcome, Loki.”
His answer made a hint of a smile catch at Loki’s lips. It also found some of the tension draining from Loki’s form before he reached out and began arranging the pieces on the board. “I shall be black.”
“You know that gives me the first move, right?”
Loki’s smile spread a bit wider. “I do believe you’ve earned that privilege for suggesting that we play.”
The words made Tony grin, his stomach squirming pleasantly even as he began to help Loki set up the board.
And it was this time unlike all the others in the past, that when their fingers brushed, they didn’t pretend it hadn’t happened, instead, they both lingered with their hands over the board and pieces in their palms.
Their eyes locked across the board, and together, they smiled.
