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He wanted to say it was coincidence that drove them together, or actually, a series of coincidental events that may or may not be associated with that thing called fate. Not that Tony believed in fate. He didn’t.
But Loki did, that’s for sure. He didn’t actually say anything like ‘we are fated for one another’ or ‘you’re my soul-mate-fate-date’. Mostly because both of those are a horrible impersonation of Loki, but also because Loki didn’t talkabout stuff. They just were and that was fine. Just like everyone else was and it was fine. Mostly fine, Clint would still have a weapon in hand when Loki entered the room, but at least now he pretended he didn’t and no one actually had to duck for cover anymore. But Loki said things sometimes that alluded to something ‘other’ in control. Mostly, he swore at said thing and cursed it to his ‘daughter’s domaine’.
Only—the thing was—Tony wasn’t stupid. Not even close. So when Loki started acting weird and the flirting and teasing became more physical and the tones they were using dropped an octave or two and may have been whispered into one’s ear, Tony did what any playboy-billionaire-genius-probably-straight-man would do:
He ran away.
“Tony, please stop swinging your legs two inches away from my work.”
“It’s more like two feet and you’re being paranoid.”
“Five feet from where you’ve parked your butt on my table,” Bruce corrected, “but two inches from the tip of your shoe when you swing your legs. Stop it. You don’t even want to know what’s in the vial.”
“Will it melt my shoe?”
“Do you like having feet?”
Tony stopped swinging his legs.
"I’m suddenly very concerned for you and myself and the entire tower.”
“Welcome to my world of living with you,” Bruce shot back, not even moving an inch from his microscope as one hand jotted down notes blindly. Tony snickered, because it was true, and tucked his legs up under him instead. “Why are you here endangering everyone’s lives again?”
Tony pouted, even though Bruce wasn’t looking—damn him—and replied, “why do I need a reason to come see my buddy ol’ pall-o-matey-o—”
Bruce sighed so loudly over him that he was forced to stop and resort to simply pouting until Bruce’s questionable silence was finally too much.
“Okay, fine,” he relented. “I’m avoiding someone.”
“Steve?”
“No, actually—wait, yes. I’m always avoiding Steve.”
“Unless he’s cooking.”
Tony hummed in agreement, “unless he’s cooking, yes. I needed a reminder of why we keep him around.”
“So Loki, then,” Bruce said out of the blue, finally dragging himself away from whatever foot-melting goo he was gazing at and giving Tony a flattest expression in the world. “You’re avoiding Loki… And you think that’s a good idea?”
Tony huffed incredulously and crossed his arms. “Of course it’s a good idea, why wouldn’t be?” Bruce opened his mouth and Tony cut him off, “don’t answer that. I’m right, you’re wrong. Let me hide in your lab because we are best friends and Loki might be actually seriously flirting with me.”
Bruce’s not-at-all-surprised smirk really pissed him off sometimes.
“So that’s how it is, huh? The Trickster got a little too forward for your delicate sensibilities and you came running to me. You do see how this is going to blow up in your face, right?”
“No blowing up in my face,” Tony groused. “I do that enough when we work and besides, he doesn’t know i’m avoiding him. As far as anyone other than you can tell, i’m knee deep in silence.”
"Well you’re not and if you think that Loki’s stupid enough to miss the fact that the second he makes a serious move on you, you’re suddenly wading in science, then you really ought to hop up here and let me examine your head.” He cracked a lopsided grin and added, “Brain deterioration is so fascinating.”
"You are a horrible human being and I regret not swinging my feet a little harder.”
“I’m sure Loki will still love you, even without feet.”
Tony leaned back, hands up to ward off Satan. “Whoa there, none of that. No tossing the ‘L’ word around.”
“What, ‘Loki’?”
Tony narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re being particularly obtuse and I bet you think it’s cute.”
“What can I say?” Bruce said with a shrug. “I’m just a big, cuddly monster.”
Tony huffed and swung his legs at him just in time for the door to slide open and reveal the dreaded consequence of his actions.
A very—dangerously—pleasant looking Loki stepped in through the door, and seconds after crossing the threshold, Bruce backed away and took his glasses off like he meant business.
“You know what, i’m just going to say, ‘I told you so’ right now and ask you guys to leave before I poison you both rather than have you release a deadly toxin by fumbling around in my lab.”
Tony would have leveled a world-class glare on his ‘friend’, but Loki’s eyes hadn’t broken eye-contact since he entered and there was definitely a sweat breaking out on the back of Tony’s neck right now.
That smile was fucking terrifying.
“Right,” Tony forced out, “pleasure doing science with you, buddy. Loki, shall we?”
Loki’s smile gained more teeth. “Oh, we shall.”
Tony privately wondered if now was the opportune moment to burst out crying. He opted for ‘no’ since both men looked more ready to hurt him than get him a tissue.
So, with a polite grin to Loki, he strode out the door like a man on a mission and kept going until thin, cold hands slithered around his chest and stopped him half way down the hallway.
"What—"Tony cleared his throat, "what’s up?”
“You really are an ant,” Loki hissed dangerously in his ear, and dragged Tony back against his body with a sharp tug.
"I take that as a compliment these days, did you know ants can lift—”
“I take it back, you are worth less than an ant. A worm… a cowardly worm who crawls into the earth and muck to avoid the sun.”
Tony shuddered at the sheer loathing in Loki’s voice, and suddenly hated the fact that he was the one who put it there.
“Are you implying that you’re the sun?”
Loki chuckled nastily, and the hands curled around his chest turned sharp with nails digging into his skin through his shirt.
“Nay, Stark, I am the bird who means to eat you.”
Tony’s brain fizzled right out for good reasons he wasn’t able to provide currently because Loki had said ‘eat you’ and all sorts of mental images popped up from that and oh fuck i’m totally gay for Loki.
"Fuck,” he said intelligently.
“Oh now you are interested,” Loki sneered once more in his ear, his hot breath reminding Tony that this was a god he was fucking with—or not fucking with—and he was mad and taller than him and, oh yeah, had magic.
“Okay, so I might have made a mistake,” he admitted weakly, wincing when Loki’s nails dragged down to his stomach. “Oh shit—don’t castrate me, I need that for future fucking that I kind of really want you involved in.”
Another soft chuckle tickled the skin under Tony’s ear, and Loki’s voice was now amused. “Oh?”
“Yeah, so, I might have seriously wondered if maybe this was wr-ooh!” He broke off with a startled squeak that he would later deny ever having come from his mouth.
For now, he would have to focus on the fact that Loki’s hands had traveled past the safe zones and fuck fuck fuck! I’m not just gay for Loki, I’ve lost it completely. Feelings. Help. Feelings!
“Okay,” he managed after several seconds of internal panic. “Okay, look. This is… Complicated and I don’t like complicated—” Loki squeezed but Tony barreled onwards, “—but I th-think we can make this simple.”
“Simplify it for me, Stark.”
“I like you,” Tony babbled, ignoring the way Loki’s hands stopped moving along with everything else including maybe breathing, too. “I do, okay? I’ll admit it now while your hands are down my pants and anyone in the damn tower could walk down the hall and see us because i’m more scared of you ripping certain things off of me than whatever this is between us.”
Loki didn’t move, or speak, and again, breathing seemed to not be happening.
Tony frowned and pulled himself free of Loki’s arms easily, turning to face the god at last.
Whatever he’d been expecting—expression wise—it was not the openly startled look he was receiving, or the way Loki’s eyes softened when they met his. Like—Tony realized—they always did when he saw Tony.
Shit. How long have I actually been avoiding this? he wondered, the sting of guilt burning in chest.
“Does this constitute as consent?” Loki questioned him softly, not taking his eyes off of Tony’s for a second.
“Uh, yeah, I guess. Was that what you were waiting for?”
“Well I could hardly take you against your will.”
“It’s nice to see that some criminals draw a line somewhere,” Tony muttered dryly, earning himself narrowed eyes and the threat of claws back in his body again.
“I am no criminal, Stark,” he began angrily, only to be cut off wonderfully by Tony being an asshole and kissing him full on the mouth.
Probably not the best tactic to sooth the sting of his poorly phrased joke, but Loki wasn’t arguing so, whatever.
The kiss lingered for some time, changing shape and speed and—hell—there was some added volume, too. By the time it finally paused long enough for them to get a word in, both of them seemed to be past talking and on to this thing that might be that dreaded ‘L’ word and fucking. Yes, fucking would happen.
"Why haven’t we been doing this for months now?” Tony panted, loving the fact that Loki’s fingers had now found their way to Tony’s ass and were clawing him in much more pleasant ways.
“Because someone is a worm,” Loki replied with much less loathing than before.
"I have some really appalling innuendoes I could use here, but seriously, we’ve waited too long. We need a bed. Now.”
“Finally,” Loki sighed, “something We can agree on.”
“Don’t get cocky now,” Tony teased, and Loki’s grin grew toothy once again.
“Oh,” Loki purred, teleporting them both to a bedroom that Tony didn’t even care who it belonged to. “but I told you, I am the bird who aims to eat you.”
No, it wasn’t a coincidence that Tony used that phrasing, but what the hell, sometimes fate needed a little push.