Work Text:
Tony wouldn’t describe himself as a needy person.
Actually, he didn’t think many people would. He had been fiercely independent from a young age, always wanting to do things himself without needing his father’s help. At first, it had been just to prove that he could, to stick it to those naysayers who claimed the only reason he was successful was the silver spoon found latched between his teeth at birth. But after a while, as he grew older, he’d just kind of learned that it was easier to do things alone.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like having friends, of course—he’d die for, kill for the few good friends he’d made. Just because he liked working alone didn’t mean that he liked being alone, far from it. His friends were spectacular, he loved them, and he wouldn’t give them up for the world.
And you see, basically, all of this boiled down to the very simple fact that when Tony did find someone he wanted to spend time with, he – well – he wanted to spend time with them. That, mixed with a history of being used to getting what he wanted and enjoying freely given affection very much—
It made for a person who rather liked… attention.
So, yeah. He wasn’t needy.
But he might, he just might be a little bit clingy.
(Not that he would ever admit it, of course.)
Loki had never seemed to mind—in fact, Tony would go so far as to say that Loki liked the way that Tony would throw himself into Loki’s lap, the way that he would curl into Loki’s side or wrap an arm around his shoulders. Tony liked affection, he craved it, and from the very first moment that they had got together, Loki had seemed to delight in it just as much.
Still, they both loved their space, and they were hardly joined at the hip. Both Tony and Loki were busy people, after all, Tony with his Avengering and Loki with his… large scale-pranking, as Tony liked to think of it. And since Loki had moved into Tony’s penthouse – the Avengers on the floors below blissfully unaware, of course, what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them (probably) – they no longer needed to sneak around so much, and they could just… be.
Even now, Tony knew that Loki was upstairs, but he was perfectly happy to stay down in the workshop without feeling the need to make use of every second of every moment together they had. It was nice, it was relaxing, it was—
“Sir. Without assistance, we cannot take this project any further.”
Tony groaned, and rubbed a hand over his goatee.
“Are you sure we can’t just do this ourselves?” he asked. “We’ve been scanning Loki’s magic for years now—”
“All preliminary tests conclude that this suit will protect from harmful magic but will still allow Mr Liesmith to use his seiðr to interact with it in the event of an emergency,” JARVIS replied, almost sounding as tired as Tony probably should have felt. He’d been stuck into this project for hours, not wanting to put it down until it was done.
“Then it works?”
“In theory.”
“In theory,” Tony echoed, annoyed. He knew JARVIS was right—usually he would have been all for putting things into practice as soon as
possible, rather than relying on computer models. But, this time, putting it into practice meant accepting help.
And he just…
This was an Iron Man suit. It was going to be one of his best suits yet, and the fact that he couldn’t make it alone just rubbed him the wrong way. Sure, Tony had got better at working with other people since he’d started working more with Bruce – admittedly, crutches such as telling Bruce that Tony was the one helping him did help there – but there was still that niggling old doubt scratching at the back of his mind, especially where his suits were involved.
But, this was Loki. It wasn’t just some SHIELD grunt, or a university professor, or – god forbid – Reed Richards. This was Loki.
And Tony trusted Loki with more than just his life.
Decision made, Tony tore himself away from his workbench and made his way to the elevator, instructing JARVIS to keep an eye on everything until he got back. The ride to the penthouse was swift, and it was only moments later that Tony was emerging out into the space he now shared with Loki.
Luckily, Loki was easy to find. Were he anyone else, Tony would have said that he was sprawled across the sofa—but Loki wouldn’t ever be caught dead doing something so undignified as sprawling. He was leaning against one armrest with his head tilted slightly forwards, his legs stretching down to the other where they crossed at the ankles over the edge. A book was perched in his hands, seemingly held far too precariously for the size of it, but the weight seemed nothing to Loki’s unshakable fingers.
Tony cleared his throat. The sight was certainly a pretty one, but he was on something of a mission. It wasn’t usual for him to leave a project halfway done, after all.
“Hey, Lokes?” he asked. “Reckon you could help me with something?”
And Loki—
Well, he didn’t respond. Tony thought he might have been going to, for his hand did move—but it was just to turn the page.
Tony sighed.
“Loki.”
Nothing.
“Oh Loki, Prince of Asgard, rightful ruler of Jotunheim, God of Mischief, Lord of the Lies—”
Nada.
“Darling, sunshine, light of my day, love of my life—”
“Yes Anthony, I love you too.”
Tony huffed, and narrowed his eyes. Loki was still totally engrossed in his book, his eyes barely finishing a page before his fingers curled under the edge of the paper to turn it.
He’d spoken, but. He wasn’t actually responding.
Goddamnit.
Now, look. Usually, Tony would have just left Loki be. After all, he wasn’t a needy person, and if there was one thing Tony could understand it was getting so engrossed in something that you lost sight of the outside world—but see, thing is, that was kind of the exact problem here.
Tony needed Loki so that he could get back to his suit, he just couldn’t stand leaving it.
So.
There was nothing else for it.
Carefully, but perhaps not as carefully as he could have, Tony stepped right up close to the couch, braced himself on the backrest, and slid a knee in between Loki and the back cushion. Loki didn’t even flinch, so Tony kept going—lowering his whole body until he was comfortably lying on top of his lover, his arms crossed over Loki’s chest and providing a perfect resting place for his chin.
“Loki,” Tony whispered. “Can you hear me? Earth to Loki. Loki come in, Lokiiiii.”
Loki let out a soft sigh, and adjusted his grip on his book. But just as Tony felt his first flicker of victory, he realised that Loki was just shifting his book into one hand while the other came to rest gently in Tony’s hair.
“Are you kidding me?” Tony groaned. “Really?”
Loki’s hand started to glide through Tony’s hair, stroking softly, fingers running over his scalp.
And it was…
It was comfortable. Calming. Relaxing.
Nice.
Tony sighed as his eyes began to slide closed. There was no point in pressing, after all. Short of going back to the workshop for a suit and shooting Loki with a repulsor blast, Tony was feeling a little out of options—and even then, at this rate, it seemed likely that Loki would just reflect the blast on instinct and then keep on reading.
Tony hated the thought of stopping the project and waiting, but he hadn’t… it had been a rather long time since he’d had a break, and cuddling with Loki was always just so goddamn pleasant.
His eyes were shut before he knew it, a soft darkness, a calm serenity settling over him like a warm blanket...
“Anthony.”
Tony felt bleary as his eyelids pulled open, the slow drowsiness of an unexpected nap determined to keep him under. A soft chuckle broke through the haze, and when Tony managed to focus, it was to the sight of Loki staring down at him with a genly smile on his face. His book was clearly no longer in his hands, as both of those were stroking Tony’s sides—but a quick glance to the left proved that it had been placed on ground, upside down and bending the spine in a manner Tony knew Loki normally hated.
“There you are,” Loki said, one hand coming up to gently touch Tony’s cheek. “If you wanted to sleep with me, Anthony, I could have suggested a far more comfortable place.”
Snorting, Tony shifted so that he was a little more comfortable—still lying on Loki’s chest, Loki’s arms curling firmly around his waist.
“I’m sorry if I was distracted,” Loki said, his smile turning softly apologetic. “Was there something you needed?”
Tony blinked at that, thinking that… yes, he had wanted something, hadn’t he? He was still exhausted, but he knew he’d come to bother Loki for some reason or another.
But warm and comfortable in Loki’s arms, Tony found that he didn’t really want to move.
“Nah,” he said, realising that whatever it had been… it probably didn’t matter, anyway. “I just wanted to spend some time with you.”
Loki’s smile brightened, and he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Tony’s head, his hold tightening just slightly. There was nothing, nothing which could have pulled Tony from that perfect moment.
“Sir?”
“Shh,” Tony said, settling down in Loki’s arms. “I’m busy.”
“Sir,” JARVIS repeated. “You may wish to head down to the workshop. The situation is getting out of hand and I find myself unable to...”
Barely registering that JARVIS was talking, Tony allowed his eyes to fall closed as the serenity drifted over him once more.
Whatever the problem was, it could wait.