Work Text:
Tony’s track record with Christmas gifts had never been particularly riddled with success.
To be fair, he had never really grown up with it all—not in the way that most people had. His mom had always tried her best, but she and Tony spent so little time together that her presents were usually generic. Howard, on the other hand, tended to just throw money at Tony in the hopes that it would make Tony go away. To be honest, Tony’s best experiences with gifts of his own as a kid were those he had received from Jarvis—usually a tin of homemade cookies and a smile.
It wasn’t that people didn’t try. Tony knew his friends would have put their heart and soul into a good Christmas. But that first year at MIT, Tony had been able to tell that Rhodey was self-conscious, and Tony hadn’t wanted to do anything wrong—so they’d come up with an agreement to dispense with Christmas gifts entirely in favour of just spending a day together to celebrate, and that had become tradition ever since. As he’d made new friends, as Pepper and Happy had joined their little group, they simply joined in on the Christmas tradition as well.
As time went by, more people came into Tony’s life, and he had to start thinking smarter. He’d thought the Avengers would be easy enough to think of gifts for, the first year he spent with them—hours in the workshop would be well spent, if it meant seeing them pleased to receive new updates to their weapons and armour. But as he took in their expressions while they unwrapped the expensive, time consuming gifts, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had somehow done it wrong.
It wasn’t that they were ungrateful, they certainly gave their thanks. It was more that… it was like he had missed the spirit, somehow. It was almost awkward. But he’d thought—that homemade gifts were better?
Though perhaps it was the expense?
And he did not even want to think about the one and only time he had attempted to buy Pepper a Christmas gift. In hindsight, the bunny may have been a little large.
Regardless, he did his best to put the thought from his mind. Christmas was just one of those things that he was doomed to misunderstand, and in the years that followed, Tony simply did his best not to worry about whether his gifts would be accepted or not. He was bad at giving Christmas presents, but his friends assured him that it didn’t matter, for he gave them all they needed whenever they needed it, special occasion be damned.
But this year… things were different. This year, Tony had Loki.
So this year, he wanted to make sure that he did it right.
And for that to happen…
1—Don’t go overboard.
“I need help.”
The look that crossed Clint’s face at Tony’s question was almost comical, dripping with shock and nearing on concern.
“Are you feeling all right?” Clint asked, leaning forward on the couch and reaching up to place a light hand over Tony’s forehead. Tony let him, limiting his complaint to a light huff and a roll of his eyes.
“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m just… not very good at this whole Christmas thing.”
Clint pulled his hand away with a snort. “I’ll say. As much as I loved it, the semi-automatic bow you got me last year was a little bit much.”
“How can a gift be too much?” Tony asked. It was a concept that he’d never really been able to get his head around. If he could afford to get his friends expensive gifts, then wasn’t that his prerogative? What did it matter?
“Most people don’t like to be given stuff they can’t reciprocate,” Clint said, shrugging. “It makes their present seem cheap.”
“That’s stupid,” Tony said. “I thought Christmas was meant to be about—”
“Giving,” Clint cut in. “Yeah. But, uh. You don’t give someone a Ferrari when all they can afford to give you back in return is a box of chocolates, you know?”
“Still stupid,” Tony huffed. “But, okay. So… Loki’s a prince. He can afford pretty much anything in the galaxy, probably. Hell, he could use his magic to summon anything in the galaxy.” Tony groaned. “Great.”
“Then I’m not really seeing the problem?” Clint said. “Dude, this is probably your first chance to go all out on someone who thinks that’s normal. You don’t need to worry.”
“But I don’t know what to get him,” Tony replied—and if his voice slipped into an almost whine, then, well… he never had to admit it. “Yeah, he’s a prince. He’s got everything he could ever want, including myself—”
“Humble as always, I see.”
“—and I have no idea what I could get him as a Christmas gift. We’ve only been dating for a couple of months so I don’t want to scare him off, I want it to be perfect. I want it to be special.”
“Do they even have Christmas on Asgard?” Clint asked, his nose wrinkling a little.
“No,” Tony sighed. “But Thor’s told Loki all about it, and Loki told me he was excited for it. He’s already got us all presents, apparently.”
“I’m not sure whether I should be excited or concerned,” Clint replied.
“Probably both,” Tony allowed. “But… do you see my issue?”
“Yeah.” Clint’s face was doing something… weird. Tony frowned. “Yeah I see it.”
It was only a second later that Tony realised Clint’s face looked weird because he was trying really hard not to laugh.
“What?” Tony snapped.
“Nothing,” Clint said, leaning back in his chair slightly, his smile widening as it pulled up the corners of his lips. “It’s just nice to see you suffering the way all of us have. For once.”
Tony’s brow furrowed. He’d be lying if he said that his mouth didn’t fall into a pout. “I still think not being able to get people expensive presents is stupid,” he huffed. “And that still doesn’t help me work out what to get him.”
“Hey, I didn’t say I agree,” Clint said, holding up his hands. “If you want to buy me a Ferrari, go ahead. But for Loki… hey, why are you even asking me this? I am so not qualified—”
“You know Loki better than most of the other Avengers,” Tony shrugged.
“We didn’t exactly spend much time talking about Christmas presents.” Clint paused for a moment. “If you want advice on Loki, why don’t you go to Thor? He definitely knows more about the guy than any of us.”
“Yeah,” Tony groaned. He’d hoped to limit the number of people who knew about his struggle, but he couldn’t deny that Clint had made a good point. “Yeah, all right.”
2—Get something unique.
Thor rubbed at his beard in thought, the expression of deep concentration not one that Tony saw him wear very often.
“Whenever a need has arisen for gifts, I usually bestow Loki with weapons,” Thor eventually said. “But I do not believe that this strategy will work for you.”
“Because of what happened when I tried that with the Avengers?” Tony asked.
“Not at all.” Thor’s smile was bright then, and it relaxed Tony a little. “Rather, because the weapons I got for him were of a certain nature—forged in the belly of a star, or enchanted by the metalsmiths of Niðavellir. Always something that Loki could not have acquired himself, and always something unique.”
Tony thought on that for a moment. He didn’t have the resources to get a present from another planet, but…
He could make Loki something, something that no one else had.
Except—
Wasn’t that… a bit like he had done with the Avengers? He’d made them weapons, and they hadn’t seemed entirely overjoyed. But that could be because, like Clint had suggested, too much money went into making them. And if it was the expense… hadn’t he already worked out that money wouldn’t be a problem when it came to Loki?
God.
His head hurt.
He needed…
“Thanks for the assist, Thor,” Tony sighed. “I’ll catch you round.”
He was going to need to talk to someone else.
3—Get something with meaning.
“Different people like different things, that’s all,” Natasha told him when he cornered her after lunch, the pair of them still sitting at the table. “Some people like things that are practical for Christmas. Others like their Christmas gifts to be more frivolous.” Her voice went a little dry. “I think it probably depends on the person.”
“But how am I supposed to know?” Tony asked.
“You’re asking the wrong person, Tony,” Natasha said with a shrug. “I didn’t have a proper Christmas as a kid, either.”
Tony might have winced and apologised, had he been speaking to anyone other than Natasha. He knew that she wouldn’t appreciate it.
“You do know people though,” he said instead. “And I don’t understand why—well. Clint said I can only get someone a present that they could get me in return, so I thought that would mean not getting something expensive. Though surely, that’s not a problem where Loki is involved? And Thor said that Loki likes unique things, and I could make him something unique, but again, that hasn’t gone over well in the past and I just—” Tony groaned. “This is just all so complicated.”
Natasha eyed him carefully.
“I can’t speak for everyone, but do think that maybe some of the problem that Christmas was that it wasn’t the first time you’d gifted us upgrades,” Natasha said. “We all knew exactly what you were doing, because you weren’t subtle about it, and it wasn’t anything… different to normal.”
“So I was taken for granted?” Tony huffed. “Great. Next time I’ll just leave everyone alone for the whole year so—”
“That’s not what I meant.” Her fingers tapped absentmindedly against the tabletop. “It’s not that we weren’t grateful. It’s just… from my perspective, it seems like Christmas is meant to be special. A small, unexpected gift is sometimes more appreciated than something big that is known to be coming. It’s almost more about the surprise of opening the presents, than it is the present itself. And if it means something to the person you’re giving it to, it’s worth more than if you’d spent a small fortune.”
Tony frowned, but this time it was more in thought than confusion.
“Why don’t you go and talk to Steve?” asked Natasha. “He had the best childhood out of all of us. He probably knows the ‘meaning of Christmas’ by heart, even if his version is a little outdated. He might be able to help more than me.”
Tony could have made some witty comment about Natasha admitting that Steve was more advanced in this particular area, but he knew it would have fallen flat.
He was getting a little sick of traipsing around the tower, asking its various inhabitants for help. But, he steeled himself. For Loki, a little humiliation was worth it.
4—Presents don’t have to be things.
Steve’s smile, while not what Tony had been expecting in response to his question, certainly felt like a step in the right direction. It was a far cry from the grimace he’d been given by most of the others.
Still.
Tony couldn’t help interrupting when he felt like Steve was starting to go down the usual cliché and entirely unhelpful route.
“Christmas is a time for—”
“Giving, I know,” Tony groaned, lifting his head to glare at the ceiling of the training room, where he’d found Steve working out. “Clint said that. As did everyone else. But that doesn’t help when I don’t know what to give.”
Steve’s smile annoyingly grew wider. “That’s not what I was going to say, actually,” he said. “But, yes. It is.”
Tony arched a brow. “And that is helpful to me because…”
“Because what I was actually going to say is that Christmas is a time for family,” Steve said. “It’s not really about the presents at all.”
“But that still doesn’t help me pick a present,” Tony groaned. “I just… Look, I get what you and everyone else is trying to say. I get that it’s not just about the presents, I really do. Rhodey, Pep, Happy and I haven’t given each other presents in years–with, uh, one notable exception, but we don’t need to talk about that. But this is my first Christmas with Loki, and his first Christmas on Earth. I want it to be right.”
Steve seemed to consider him for a moment, his hand coming up to rub at his chin. “Okay,” he hummed. “Tony, I want you to think back to your best Christmas present ever.”
“I never really had any good Christmases,” Tony muttered. “That’s why I’m asking.”
“Just, try,” Steve said. “The best present you got, one that made you warm inside. Not just from what it was, but what it meant.”
Tony almost rolled his eyes. “Nat said that’s different for everyone. My favourite present wouldn’t be the same as—”
“No, of course not. But it might help you come up with an idea. Try and remember. What’s the best present you’ve ever been given? Christmas or otherwise. Come on, Shellhead, humour me.”
Tony’s initial reaction would have been to just mention a car or something, something expensive. But Steve was trying to help, and without the advice of his friends, Tony really was left with no hope at all. So… okay. Tony could humour him.
He drew in a breath, steadying himself. Then, he admitted, “Jarvis used to make me cookies. Well, he and Ana, his wife. Chocolate chip, hard on the outside but chewy on the inside. They were my favourite, and he would always sit in the kitchen with me, and we’d eat half the batch each, with no one else coming to meddle. No other worries. Just us.”
There was a moment’s pause as Tony smiled in memory, before Steve spoke again.
“What was the best part of that present?” Steve asked gently. “You could have got the cookies from anywhere, or eaten them by yourself.”
“I couldn’t have got them from anywhere, Jarvis and Ana made them,” Tony pointed out.
“Okay, so why,” Steve asked, his voice almost soft. It made Tony’s skin prickle, but… not necessarily in a bad way. “Why is that the present that sticks in your mind?”
“Because…” Tony trailed off, not quite sure how to put it into words without sounding stupidly sappy.
That was okay, though. Steve knew the answer anyway.
“When I was a kid, we didn’t have much money at all,” Steve said. “My mom worked too many jobs, and I was hardly easy to care for. Christmas was a small affair, presents were scarce and only things that were needed, and even then always second hand. The best part of it all was just… sitting down with my mom, and watching her smile. We didn’t have lights or tinsel or a massive spread of food, but we had each other. And that was all that mattered.”
“I think I understand what you’re saying,” Tony said—and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling a little choked up. “Uh. Thanks. Steve.”
Steve’s smile was still painfully soft as he reached out to clasp Tony’s shoulder. “You’re welcome, Tony.”
5—Try to get something you know they'll like.
“This is hopeless,” Tony groaned, throwing himself down on the couch next to Bruce a few hours later. “I am never going to think of something for Loki. It’s impossible.”
Bruce sighed, light and airy. Tony heard the tell-tale sound of pages being closed, of a book being put on the side table. He appreciated the attention, though for once, he almost wished that Bruce would let him wallow.
Almost. He had chosen to sit in the living room instead of the workshop for a reason, after all.
“Tony,” Bruce sighed. “Christmas presents are not supposed to be this stressful.”
“Literally everything I’ve seen on TV says otherwise,” Tony pointed out.
“And since when did you believe everything you see on TV?”
Tony wasn’t sure what to say to that, but it seemed that Bruce wasn’t expecting an answer, for he continued after only a moment.
“Tony, it’s not just about what you give. It’s how you give it.”
Tony groaned. Perhaps talking to each of his friends one at a time was a bad idea. It felt like every single one of them had given him exactly the same speech. Maybe if he’d spoken to them all at the same time, it would have been more efficient.
Or then again, maybe not.
The thing was… they had all been helpful. Steve in particular had certainly helped him with widening his scope, but that did the exact opposite of narrowing it down. He just… he just wanted the perfect present to simply fall into his lap.
Was that too much to ask?
Why was this so hard?
He groaned again, and threw his head back against the couch once more as he said exactly that.
To his credit, Bruce didn’t laugh. Tony could tell that he wanted to, though.
“I just mean that you might be thinking too hard about this. Tony, you know Loki better than anyone. You’re asking all of us for help, but you are the only one who can decide what to get for him.”
Tony pulled himself from the couch with a groan, and walked over to the large, floor-to-ceiling windows which adorned the outside of Avengers Tower. Below, he could see the bright lights of the city, seeming so much more colourful than they were on any normal night, all reds and greens and golds. Tony could almost imagine the joy of the people below, hurrying through the snow for last minute gifts, enjoying the holiday spirit with the people that they loved.
It was only a few hours from Christmas Eve. He was running out of time.
He might know Loki well, but the pressure of thinking up something perfect, of how to make this Christmas better than any others—
But then… maybe.
Maybe.
Maybe he didn’t have to.
Tony’s eyes caught on one set of lights in particular, vertical lines and changing colours shooting straight up into the sky as his friends’ advice echoed in his mind.
It doesn’t have to be a physical thing… it should be something special… Loki likes unique gifts… get something he would appreciate…
You know him best.
Slowly, as he stared out of the window, a picture started to form in his mind—and a smile started to form on his lips.
Perhaps the perfect idea had fallen into his lap, after all.
+1—Remember that Christmas isn't actually about the presents at all.
Tony felt more nervous than he had in a long while. He could feel a twitch in his fingers which didn’t usually belong, and a touch of worry in the back of his mind which he could usually shove away.
The days of debate had worked him into a corner, and even now that he had something on the move, it was hard to settle his mind.
It helped, however, that Loki decided to be his usual infuriating self. Rather than heightening Tony’s nerves, Loki’s complaints gave Tony something to hold on to and use to ground himself, his anxieties smoothing away in the face of familiar bickering.
“Anthony, it is freezing outside. I would far prefer to stay in here with a cup of tea and a blanket.”
“We both know the cold doesn’t bother you,” Tony shot back. “Now, come on, Lokes. It’s Christmas Eve, let’s go out.”
Loki let out that certain kind of long suffering sigh which Tony knew he didn’t mean at all, and allowed Tony to pull him toward the elevator, a winter coat manifesting itself around his shoulders as they went.
And, okay, so Loki was right. It was cold. But that meant that Tony could press close into Loki’s side with the obvious guise of getting warm, and Loki was smiling as he wrapped an arm around Tony’s waist to hold him in place. The snow was light enough to set a scene but not to make it hard to see, and with the sun having set, the lights of the buildings shined off the snow in the street.
Tony couldn’t help the smile that stretched over his lips, matching the one that Loki wore.
The walk wasn’t long. Soon they were passing groups of tourists holding up their phones to snap photos of the iconically lit building, their attention upwards thankfully meaning that they didn’t notice Tony and Loki walking past.
Not that Tony could blame them—the building was putting on something of a show.
Tony’s smile widened as he followed the tourists’ gaze. “Hey, Loki,” he said. “Look.”
Loki shifted, though Tony didn’t turn to see. He just kept his gaze on the building, on those bright green and gold lights, waiting for Loki to say something.
“It does amuse me that your people have decided green is the colour for this celebration,” Loki said, his tone warm.
“Almost as much as our use for mistletoe amuses you?” Tony grinned.
Loki rolled his eyes.
“Anyway.” Tony cleared his throat a little. “It’s not just green for Christmas.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Look.”
Tony felt Loki’s sigh as much as he heard it, their bodies still held close together, even though they were paused in the middle of the sidewalk. But entwined as they were… he also felt Loki freeze.
The light shows on the Empire State Building had come a long way from the simple old colours. Now, the technicians were more than capable of splashing entire images across the front of the building, moving pictures and videos that could capture the attention of everyone below.
As they watched, an image of Loki stepped across the walls, towering over the whole city of New York. He was wearing his full armour and a deadly smirk, and he spread his arms and held up his chin as if he were welcoming everyone—or perhaps, conquering them. The image was then replaced with a scene of Loki flipping his knives through the air, then one of him punching Thor in the arm. The Empire State Building glowed with image after image of Loki, shining high in the sky.
The Avengers showed up as well, in the training room and in the field, using footage captured by the Avengers’ own monitoring devices as well as CCTV and media. JARVIS had compiled most of it, but Tony had spent the better part of the night before sifting through it and making sure that it was perfect. The focus, always, was Loki. Showing his skill with his knives, with his seiðr–the seamless way that he moved, the way that he was capable of putting even Captain America on his well formed ass during a training session. Loki and Tony working together in the field, then Loki and Thor—the Avengers laughing together during a press conference, then a group hug at the end of a fight. Finally, at the end, there was a shot of all the Avengers, with Loki in the middle—and a message for everyone to have a Very Happy Holidays.
And as the images calmed, the tower went back to shining green—but now, Tony knew, Loki would notice that those sparks of gold were not snowflakes or stars, but rather outlines of his recognisable helmet, glittering across the face of the building for a few minutes before the lightshow would start once again.
“Anthony,” Loki breathed, his grip on Tony’s waist tightening a little. “That was incredible.”
Tony felt the last of his tension melt away, knowing that he had done this right. Loki loved having his face splashed everywhere for people to see. It was big, it was flashy, it was everything Clint had warned against for normal people—but for Loki, it was perfect.
Full tilt diva, Tony thought fondly.
They were both still smiling as Tony took Loki’s hand and pulled him forward, closer to the building. They were a block or so away still, but they were warm enough together that the chill didn’t matter.
“Let’s go in,” Tony said, guiding Loki up the stairs and towards the doors.
“What are we—”
“Shh,” Tony said. “You’ll see.”
For once, Loki didn’t have anything to comment on. He followed Tony toward their destination, bypassing the iconic elevator doors to head toward the restaurant instead. They were seated quickly, in a corner booth where they were still seen but at least not from every angle.
It was… nice.
It wasn’t a high end restaurant, but it also wasn’t a greasy diner. It wasn’t a place with expectations, yet it was still a place that Tony thought Loki might be able to enjoy—a point proven by the still clear smile.
“Thank you for this,” Loki said, curling their fingers together on top of the table. “I haven’t been sure what Christmas is about, but this…”
Tony held Loki’s gaze. “Spending it with you makes it one of the best Christmases that I’ve ever had. That’s all it needs, really.”
“I heard Christmas was about presents,” Loki countered, his tone almost nonchalant.
“Did you?” Tony asked, narrowing his eyes. “Well, I did get you something to open as well, but I thought—”
“Anthony,” Loki laughed. “This is the best gift I could have received. As you said… being with you is more than enough. It’s perfect.”
And if they heard the clicks of cameras as they leant in to kiss each other over the table… well. It only seemed to make Loki’s smile all the wider.
