Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Loki had a new upstairs neighbour. He found out when the mailman accidentally left a letter that wasn't for him in his mail, for Loki to find on the rug inside his front door. The apartment number on the envelope told him it belonged to the one right above his, but he knew for sure that there used to be a woman living there. With the way their ventilation was connected he could always hear her sing in the shower, as clearly as if he had been in the room with her. Not that he minded; she had a lovely voice. But now that he thought about it, he hadn't heard her in a while.

The name on the letter - Anthony E. Stark - was definitely not a woman's name. And Loki highly doubted there were two people living upstairs; that apartment had the same size and layout as his, which meant a small room, a tiny kitchen and an alcove to put the bed instead of a real bedroom. It was more than enough for him, but he'd realized that his needs differed from most other people's. They seemed to enjoy things like having space, and owning things to fill said space with, and having friends who needed somewhere to sit when they visited. Loki had never understood any of that.

Wide open spaces freaked him out. He liked to have a wall behind his back, something to hide under, high perches.

Clutter made him nervous.

People were strange and often terrifying, with their fast movements and loud noises and their need to speak, constantly.

Loki shifted the wayward envelope from one hand to the other, staring at the white rectangle of paper. Why had this happened to him? Couldn't the incompetent mailman have left this thing in someone else's mail slot? Because now he had to do something about this. Which meant he would have to leave the apartment. And maybe, if he was even more unlucky (which he almost always was), he would have to speak to this Anthony E. Stark. Whoever he was.

He growled a little, so deep in his throat it was almost in his chest, but then he quickly made himself stop. If he was to act human, he couldn't go around doing things like that.

Perhaps he had been alone for too long, and forgotten all the lies and the ways to hide.

Perhaps he needed this reminder.

Sighing, Loki moved the letter to his left hand and used the same one to support himself against the doorframe while he used his right to pull on a pair of shoes. The jeans he was wearing, so worn the black colour had turned gray, and the almost matching sweater, would do for a quick excursion up the stairs, so he just ran his hand back through his long, tangled hair to make sure he was presentable, in case he met someone. Then he unlocked the door, opened it, and peeked outside, hesitant.

The mingle of scents out there was a shock after the smell of his own home, so familiar his nose barely registered it anymore. All the smells from the world outside, dragged in on the bottoms of shoes and in clothes – cigarette smoke and wet leaves, dirt and dog, rain and sweat, all of them mixed up with the dry warmth coming up from the laundry room in the cellar, and the fish his next-door-neighbour was frying in too-hot oil. Loki wrinked his nose at the onslaught of odours but made himself step outside anyway.

He firmly shut the door, cutting off his own escape route, and then locked it before he walked to the stairs, keeping close to the wall all the way around the spiralling curve to the next floor. There he found three doors, just like on his own floor, and just as he had known the one with a hand-written note taped over the former inhabitant's name on the mail slot, was the one in the middle. Just like his own door. The note said ”STARK” in bold but very uneven lettering, as if the writer had been in too much of a hurry to bother making it neat,

Loki eyed the envelope in his hands again, and then the door, taking a slow step forward. He would drop the thing through the slot, turn, and be out of there in seconds. Done.

But then there was that thing where how Loki was almost always very unlucky. So just when his fingers had hooked over the metal edge to open the slot and slip the letter inside, he heard the very sharp and close click of the door unlocking. He had jumped back, out of the way, putting the pillar in the center of the stair behind his back, before the handle on the door was even all the way down. Which meant he was staring right at the face of the man opening the door, and clearly saw him blink and flinch just a little, realizing someone was almost right outside. Someone now clutching an envelope to his chest so hard it was creasing.

The man who was very likely to be Anthony Stark was as casually dressed as Loki, jeans and two t-shirts, a dark red one over a light gray longsleeve. His dark brown hair was a messy thing, but the sweet scent of styling products made Loki guess it was so by deliberate design. The elaborate goatee definitely was something the man put time into as well. His brown eyes were huge and bright and surrounded by long lashes, like something painted on a porcelain doll, but there was really nothing feminine about his face, even though its features were fine as well.

The waft of air the opening door pulled from the apartment behind it was full of the smells of moving-dust and the dry spark of electricity, metal, something slightly burnt, and coffee. And the scent of warm sweat hidden under deodorant and aftershave from the man himself.

”Can I help you?” The voice was chocolate rich and curious, so curious.

”No”, Loki blurted out, before he could think what to say, and saw dark eyebrows jump closer to the sharp hairline. ”I mean, I just came to leave this.” He eased the letter away from his chest and held it out. ”It ended up with my mail.”

”Huh?” The man blinked, looked at the envelope, and then reached out to pluck it from Loki's fingers. His eyes ran over the back of it, and then his face split into a wide, white smile, like it was the greatest thing he'd ever seen. When he raised his head to direct the full force of it at Loki, he was almost blinded. ”Thanks, man!”

”No problem.” Loki barely got the numb murmur out.

The upstairs neighbour moved the letter to his left hand then and reached out again, offering his empty right hand just for Loki. ”You might have guessed it, but I'm Tony. Nice to meet a neighbour.” The smile was a bit less dazzling now, but it was still there.

Tony. Yes, that made sense. Anthony didn't quite go with this casual individual.

He hesitated, but then he made himself take that firm and warm and slightly calloused hand in his thin, soft fingers. ”Loki.”

As soon as he could have his hand back to himself, Loki mumbled some collection of words that might have been an explanation for why he needed to get out of there ten minutes ago. Then he slipped down the stairs, pulling the key from his pocket as he went, unlocked his door and almost stumbled inside, tilting back against the closed door while he locked it again.

For a little while, he just breathed, drawing in the familiar air of home. Then he kicked his shoes off, walked into the only room, over to the bed, and crawled under the blanket on top of it, head first, curling up with his arms around his legs, and stayed just like that until his breathing was slow and even again, and his heartbeats didn't hurt his ribs anymore. Then he pulled his right hand free and put it to his nose. It smelled of ground coffee and metal. He fell asleep like that, and dreamt of brown eyes and white smiles.

Almost a week later, late at night when he was sure the cellar would be completely deserted, Loki went sneaking down there to book the laundry room. When he stepped through the cellar door, the lights were already on, and someone was already by the booking screen.

Someone with messy brown hair and smelling of electronics and beer.

Tony must have heard him coming, because he turned, stared, and then gave Loki a sparklingly white smile when he recognized him. ”Hi, Loki. I'm all done, so you can just -” He had turned to point at the screen while he spoke, but then he cut off, looking at all the tiny red squares. ”Oh. Shit. Looks like I just got the last open time for this week.” The brown eyes were actually concerned when he turned back, as if Loki might be hurt by this grave misdeed. ”Sorry?”

Loki had stopped a few steps away when Tony first greeted him, and now he took a slow step backward, aiming for the door. ”That's all right. I'll manage.”

”I'd give it to you”, the man continued, seeming not to notice Loki backing up. ”But there is literally not one single clean pair of underwear left in my drawer.”

Oh, gods. What made the man think Loki wanted to know anything about his underwear?! The shock made him stop moving.

”We could share the laundry, though. Right?” He stood on his toes to peek in through the little windowpane on the top part of the door, making Loki realize he was a bit shorter than he had first thought. ”Yeah, look! There are two machines in there and everything.” An eyebrow raised and smiling again, he looked back at Loki. ”Two PM on wednesday good?”

What was he supposed to say? He really needed to get the linens from his bed cleaned, and he only owned the one set.

”That could work”, he agreed.

”Then it's a date.” The widest smile yet.

Loki turned tail and fled.

But on wednesday, two PM sharp, he was still there, waiting. His dirty laundry in a huge, blue plastic bag from IKEA slung over his shoulder. Everytime he moved it made sharp little plastic noises that made his tingertips twitch, so he tried to stay still.

Then the door to the cellar swung open and Tony came in, his arms full of what had to be a big bath towel wrapped around the rest of his laundry. He greeted Loki with a little backwards toss of his head that Loki instinctively found a pleasing gesture, and responded in kind before he had thought about it more closely. Then he struggled to hold the bundle in one arm while he used the little black plastic tag to unlock the door for them.

Loki pulled it open and held it while Tony went inside. They stuffed their laundry into the machines, and then Loki was worried that Tony would want to... You know? Talk to him. He had brought a book in the bag, which he could hide behind, and he perched on top of a metal counter to read it. Not the most comfortable place to sit, but he hoped it would discourage the other from getting closer. It seemed to work. Tony settled on the floor, back to the door, and slid a phone from a pocket. Judging by the little noises and exclamations and mutterings he was playing some sort of game on it.

They spent the time the machines ran like that, then moved their things to the dryers, and were half way through that before Tony finally spoke.

"Hey, Loki?"

He blinked and took his eyes off the page to look at Tony's curious face. "Yes?"

"I was wondering... What do you do for a living? Since you're at home an afternoon in the middle of the week, I mean."

"Oh, I write", he said, eyes dropping to the book now resting in his lap.

"Like... What? Fiction?" Tony's warm voice sounded even more curious.

"Some." Loki shrugged a little. "Mostly freelance, though."

It was true, to an extent. He had sold some writing, but for the last three years he had been living off the inheritance his parents had left him. It was big enough that his very modest lifestyle barely scratched the surface of it every month. They had actually left him more than they had left his brother, which had shocked him deeply at the time; he'd always thought Thor was the favourite. But they had apparently known he would need the money more than his charismatic and ambitious brother. It had made him break down and cry his eyes out when their lawyer had read them both the will - which had shocked Thor in turn. He had never seen his little brother cry before.

Now he wondered if there would come follow-up questions from Tony, but the guy just nodded and turned back to his game. But by then, Loki was curious.

"You?"

"Huh?" Not looking up from the little screen in his fingers.

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm sort of... between jobs." Tony glanced up at him, then back down. "I left the family business. Didn't like it. Right now I just help some people out fixing their computers."

Loki had a feeling Tony didn't want follow-up questions either, so he let it go.

By the time they were done and left the laundry room, the silence had turned companionable. Loki found himself missing it, even when he was back in the apartment, rolling around naked in the newly made bed to get his own scent into the sheets again. The smell of laundry detergent made him snort and sneeze before he'd rubbed the worst of it out. Then he stayed on his back, staring into the ceiling, listening to the silence and wishing it wasn't so empty.

Two days later, at eleven minutes past ten in the morning, Loki's doorbell rang. The noise made him tense and turn with a startled twitch, because no-one ever came to his door, wanting to be let in. A few moments he just stared across the apartment, but then the noise shrilled through his little home again and he made himself get off the chair by his desk and move closer.

A glance through the peep hole showed a head of brown hair, and Loki was a bit disturbed to realize that he recognized it as Tony's by just seeing the top of it, when it was bent down. He still hesitated a little, but then he unlocked the door and opened it enough to face his neighbour.

”Hello, Tony”, he greeted. Twice the amount of words he would have used for anyone else, besides his brother.

”Hey, Lokes”, he got back with a smile, even though Tony looked decidedly rumpled and very tired, eyes narrow like he'd just woken up.

Lokes?

”Hope I didn't wake you up?”

Loki just shook his head.

”Oh, great.” Tony relaxed a little. ”I was up really late messing around with some programming and then I woke up and realized I had no coffee at home, and now I'm too wrecked to go out to buy some, so it's this whole unsolvable problem of beeing too tired to make myself less tired. You know? So I thought maybe you might have some coffee I could borrow?”

The torrent of words should have made Loki cringe back and want to run and hide, but Tony's rich, chocolate voice was making it easier to stand, somehow, even when it was a little gravelly from sleep. So instead he just tilted his head in a nod toward his little kitchen.

”I think I have a cup or two left, still, if you want some that's already made.”

”Oh my god!” Tony's eyes struggled wide and he slumped with a shoulder against the doorframe, hands pressed to his heart. ”You're like the best thing that's ever happened to me! I owe you, big time!”

Loki knew that wasn't something Tony really meant, but no-one had ever said something like that to him before, even as a joke. He took half a step back, overwhelmed, and then disguised the movement by raising a hand and showing Tony inside.

The first person except his brother to step over his threshold in over five years.

”Hey, this place looks exactly like mine”, Tony observed while they stepped into the kitchen, where a tiny breakfast table with two rickety chairs was placed by the window. Unbidden, Tony stepped over and sat down in one of them, leaning over to glance into the living room/bedroom. ”Only yours is a lot less full of crap.” Then he turned another one of those blinding, sparkling smiles on Loki. ”I like it.”

Thor had always called his place spartan, or minimalistic. Or he would have, if he'd had words like those in his vocabulary. What he actually said was ”there's an echo in here, brother – you need a rug!”.

Loki could have told him there was usually no echo, since Thor was really the only one speaking in these rooms. And Thor's voice tended to have an echo anywhere.

Now he tried to answer Tony's smile, guessed that he failed, and turned to pour him a cup of coffee. And a glass of milk for himself. Then he brought the things over and carefully sat down across the table from Tony, who almost took a dive head first into the cup when it was placed in front of him.

”That's awesome”, he sighed after a deep swallow. ”Thanks, man.”

”Welcome”, Loki murmured into his glass.

Then, somehow, Tony ended up staying for almost an hour, drinking another cup after the first one was finished. He did most of the talking, but Loki still didn't feel like covering his ears and hiding under the bed. At times, it was even an actual conversation.

No-one was bothered by the faint echo.

The phonecall Loki had been dreading for five years came four days later. He'd known it was inevitable, but it was still devastating now, when the day had come.

"I can't make it on friday, Loki." Thor's voice on the other end of the phone line was a low, sad rumble.

"What?" His legs literally folded under him, and he was just lucky the bed was right behind him to sink down on.

"I got the job. The one in San Francisco? The foreman called me. I leave tomorrow."

"Oh. I'm... happy for you. I know you really wanted it." Loki swallowed. "I just... It's three days until saturday, Thor. I wish you'd told me sooner. What am I supposed to do now?" He curled in on himself on the edge of the mattress.

"I know. I'm really sorry, brother, but I just found out two hours ago myself, or I would have given you a heads up. I swear." A long, unsteady breath rattled the mic on Thor's phone. "I never meant to leave you alone, but I can't say no to this. Really can't."

"Of course not." Loki tried to sound reassuring instead of bitter. "It's your dream. Mom and dad would have been happy."

"You think so?" The brittle hope in his brother's voice made Loki shut his eyes so tight it hurt.

"I know." He forced a smile. Thor couldn't see it, but maybe he would hear the act in Loki's voice. "Don't worry about me. I'll figure something out. Like I always do. It'll be fine."

"Maybe there's someone else you could ask for help?"

He had to swallow down a bubble of nearly hysterical laughter before it burst out of him. Thor was such a fool sometimes. He'd known Loki his whole life and could still say things like that, like he really thought Loki might say yes.

"Good luck in San Francisco, Thor." He was absurdly proud that his voice barely caught at all.

There was a pause when Thor obviously debated with himself if he should let Loki get away with evading his question like that, still worried, but finally relented and let his brother be.

"Thanks, Loki. I'll call you when I can, all right?"

"Sure. Fly safe."

Loki barely heard Thor returning his goodbye before the hand holding the phone dropped into his lap. He stared at his pale, limp hands for a long time, feeling like they weren't his at all. Three days left and he was already starting to slip.

What was he supposed to do?

And then he realized that there was only one person he could even try to ask for help. One who had asked him for help. One who owed him, big time...

"Oh, hey, Lokes." Tony looked surprised to find him outside his door, but maybe not as unpleasantly so as Loki had feared. "What's up?"

"Actually", he started, glancing away, as if hiding from his own words, "I wanted to ask you for help."

"Uh-huh?" More curious than reluctant, it seemed.

"I'll be leaving town for a few days and I need someone to look after my cat while I'm gone." Loki sprinted through the little lie, skipping across the surface of it like a stone tossed over water, afraid he would sink if he stayed too long in one place. He peeked at Tony's face again when he'd finished, finding it mildly curious still.

"You have a cat? I didn't see one at your place."

"He's... great at hiding."

Tony nodded, accepting the explanation before moving on to other questions. "And you want me to look after him? How long? What do I need to do?" He rubbed the back of his neck and looked a bit uncertain. "I mean, I don't mind doing it, but I'm sort of really not a pet kind of person, so you might have to write any instructions down."

He didn't mind doing it. Loki felt himself begin to relax at least a little. This could still work.

"I'm leaving friday night, very late, so he will be alone from saturday until monday night. I'll be back on tuesday morning."

Tony's brown eyes went a bit unfocused as he thought about the days. "Yeah, that shouldn't be a problem. So, what do I need to do?"

"Nothing much, really. Just go down there once a day to make sure he has food and water, that he's all right and hasn't... gotten himself into any trouble." He cleared his throat. ”And, if you have time, maybe keep him some company? He doesn't really like being alone. Unlike me.”

”Maybe he balances you out?” Tony gave him a smile, and the idea made Loki blink. He found no words, could only nod, but Tony had already moved on to the next question anyway. "Do I need to clean any litter boxes?" His sharp nose wrinkled a little at the thought.

"He knows how to use the toilet, actually”, Loki said. ”You'd just have to flush."

Tony's turn to blink. "Really? That's impressive. And pretty damn practical. How'd you teach him that?"

”Oh. It... wasn't as difficult as you might think. He's really intelligent.” His eyes dropped so he could hide a smirk. ”You know, for a cat.”

”Well, all right”, Tony said with a smile. ”It's a date.” Then he frowned to himself. ”You know, with your cat...”

Loki found himself smiling back. ”I'll let him know.”

Chapter Text

Saturday

Loki had given him a spare key, and it felt very odd to unlock someone else's door and walk right in, even though he had been asked to. Being alone in a home that's not yours almost always makes you feel like an intruder, and this was no different. Even if the apartment was identical to his, down to the worn, scuffed, off-white paint on the walls and the creaking wood floors, it was not the same at all. It had its own smell and feel and was nothing like his own cluttered place, full of computers, parts, wires, tools and random crap he should get rid of but never got around to gathering up.

Tony closed the door behind himself carefully, so the cat he had been sent to look after wouldn't sneak out when his back was turned, and then he slowly walked into the livingroom.

He spotted the cat almost at once, sleeping on the chair by the desk. It was a big thing, taking up most of the seat where it was lying on its side. Probably looked even bigger than it was, with the thick, longish fur it had. Most of it was a soft gray colour slightly dappled darker, like shadows were playing over the shape of it. Its paws, its chin and muzzle and some kind of pattern on its chest were white. The tips of the large ears had long, dark tufts of fur on them, like a lynx.

Loki had called the cat ”he”, so that much he knew, but seeing the creature he actually thought he would have guessed it was male anyway. The face was long, the features of it both strong and elegant, and somehow looked decidedly masculine.

The cat shifted a bit in his sleep while Tony watched from the door, and then seemed to start waking up. Its body tensed, all four legs stretching out across the seat, all the way down to the surprisingly long and well-defined toes, spread around the grayish fur between them. The cat's back arched into a sharp curve, head pulled back, chin tucked in, the large ears half back, eyes still squeezed shut. Before the furry body relaxed, and the eyes opened in narrow slits just showing a hint of colour.

A moment later the cat caught sight of Tony. At once the eyes flew wide, and gave Tony a very quick chance to see the bright green-and-gold colour of them, sparkling around the black pupils as the light made them turn to narrow, vertical slits.

Half a heartbeat later, the cat was off the seat, streaking like a gray blur across the floor, to hide under the bed in the other end of the room.

Tony flinched, taken by surprise. ”Fuck you're fast”, he muttered.

He took a couple of steps into the room, just to get himself directly in front of the bed but still as far away from it as he could get in the tiny room, squatted down and tilted his head so he could look into the space under the mattress. Green eyes glinted back at him from the darkness.

”Hey, sorry if I scared you”, he said, feeling a bit stupid talking to something that couldn't understand him. But on the other hand, he spoke to the computers he worked on all the time, so what the hell. ”You startled me too, though, so I guess we're even. I barely thought you existed. Loki said he had a cat, but I didn't see you last time I was here and come on, this place is the size of my pocket. Guess he was right when he said you're great at hiding.”

The cat blinked at him, the bright eyes narrowing down a little as it relaxed.

”He never told me your name, though. Huh. That's weird.” Tony scratched a hand through his hair. ”Can't go around calling you 'Loki's cat'. Just 'cat' feels a bit rude. Accurate, but rude. Not that I usually mind being rude...”

It was difficult to be sure, but it didn't look like the cat gave a shit what he called it. At least it came moving out from under the bed, standing beside it to stare at Tony instead. Now he could see that the white fur on the cat's chest formed a semi-circle, like a loose necklace hanging there. Then it blinked again, and seemed to relax

”Wanna come say hi? Or maybe cats don't do that?” He reached a hand out, not sure how to do this cat thing.

The green-and-gold look then told him he was an idiot. Still, Cat moved closer, tail shifting in uncertain little twitches, but ears perked up. Until he could stretch his neck long enough to reach Tony's fingers without getting too close. White whiskers touched his skin first, tickled, then little puffs of breath when the cat smelled him, before it seemed to approve and moved in to rub its cheek against his knuckles, surprisingly hard.

”Hi, Cat”, he said, softly, and experimentally moved his hand to scratch the creature behind a tufted ear. That seemed welcome, given the way the cat arched its neck to get his fingers to just the right spot, and promptly started purring. ”I'm Tony. But maybe Loki already told you?”

He guessed the way the cat moved in to rub its cheek and forehead against one of his knees where he was still squatting on the floor could be a yes.

”Wow, you really are more happy to have company than Loki is.” Wide eyes studied him when he continued. ”Not that he's not nice and all, but I sort of get the feeling he's not the most social person.” The eyes seemed to narrow. ”Which is fine! I like him anyway.” A blink. ”He makes great coffee and doesn't mind sharing. What's not to like?”

Tony's knees were starting to protest the position and he stood up with a little groan. Cat backed a step, but didn't run away while Tony eyed the room. He'd never really been in here before, just in the kitchen.

”Will you look at that? No computer in sight...” He turned to take in every wall and corner. ”Nope. Not one. Unless he's taken it with him on his little trip to... wherever. I hope so, because come on? Who can live without a computer? How does he even write?”

The gray cat rubbed its side against his legs and then walked over to the chair where it had been sleeping when Tony came in, jumped up on it, then onto the desk. A large paw batted at a pencil lying on the dark wooden surface, before the wide eyes gave Tony a glance that felt pointed. How do you think, silly?

”But writing by hand sucks! It hurts and it's way too slow to keep up with my brain!” Tony frowned to himself. ”Why am I explaining this to you, anyway? You don't write. You don't even have thumbs!”

The long fan of fur that was the cat's tail moved in a dismissive flick and it turned to look out the window instead.

”Oh, well, that reminds me... I actually have to leave.” The cat turned back to give him a long look at that. ”Promised a friend I'd come over to look at his computer today. Steve's hopeless with that thing on his own. I swear, if I didn't know better I'd say he'd spent the last seventy years or something living under a rock. He's clueless. Not that he's stupid or anything, I just think he doesn't give a shit. Artistic type, you know?” The cat tilted its head, looking like it did know. And maybe it did. ”Yeah, I think he and Loki would get along, actually. Steve is a bit of a recluse, too, but some days I think that's because the guy is so small he'd lose himself if he stepped onto the street.” Tony shrugged. ”Anyway. I doubt you care either way. As long as I get you some food and water before I go. Wanna come check the kitchen?”

All he got was another long look, so Tony shrugged again and walked away. It was just a few seconds before he heard a thump, a faint meow, and then quick, light steps when Cat hurried after him through the doorway.

Two bowls were placed on the little table where he drank coffee the last time he was here. Tony felt his eyebrows fly up. The cat ate on the table? Really? Was that a thing cats did? Apparently.

On the door to the refrigerator a hand-written note was stuck to the white surface with a magnet shaped like a snowflake. The writing was elegant but easily readable – which on both counts made it the opposite of Tony's own handwriting.

Hello, Tony.
I hope you and the cat get along well enough?
There are some cans of tuna on the counter. One of those a day should be fine, with some water.
See you on tuesday.
/L

The signed initial was a large, loopy thing, and that made Tony smile for some reason. He hadn't expected a guy like Loki to leave such an extravagant mark as his own. Maybe there was more under the surface than Loki showed. No, actually, he was sure there was a lot more.

Just as the note said there were cans of tuna standing in the middle of the counter, where he couldn't possibly miss them, even if he hadn't seen the little message. Tony opened one and scooped the oily contents out in one of the bowls on the table, before he filled the other with water from the tap.

Cat was still sitting on the floor, but watching his every move closely.

"Well, there you go, Cat." He smiled at the creature, and got a blank look. "I'll be back tomorrow again, okay?"

Surprisingly, there was no reply.

Tony walked back to the front door, and when he turned to close it behind him he was surprised to see the cat sitting in the doorway to the kichen, watching him, instead of being busy eating. Somehow, it looked sad to see him go.

"I'll stay longer tomorrow, promise", he found himself assuring the animal before he shut the door and hurried off to Steve's place.

He doesn't want the man to leave. Not already! But there is nothing he can do to make him stay.

When the door closes he turns his head and licks down his own side, the coarse texture of his tongue combing through the fur, and tastes a lingering scent he knows is the human's.

He turns and goes to eat. He's hungry, after all.

Sunday

Tony chuckled to himself as he sat cross-legged on the floor, dragged a piece of paper tied to a string across the floorboards and watched Cat completely lose every sense of feline dignity scrabbling to catch and kill it. Head twitching, mouth half open, legs spread and claws scratching the wood. He'd decided to make up for leaving so soon the day before by entertaining the animal as much as he could. Which turned out to be pretty simple. Considering the attitude Cat seemed to have, he was surprisingly easily amused.

When Tony was lost in thought, the cat managed to catch the crumpled paper, claws dug into it. He promptly rolled over on his side, hugging his prey to his chest, giving it a vicious bite and even bringing his hind legs up to rip it to shreds with quick little kicks.

"Whoa!" Fascinated, Tony watched the papery bloodbath. "Look at you go! Ruthless little thing, aren't you?"

At the sound of his voice Cat let go of the paper with his mouth and looked up. Then, apparently satisfied that the paper was good and dead, he let go completely, rolled to his feet and stepped closer to Tony. He hesitated a little, then put a large, surprisingly heavy paw on his calf, ready to step into his lap.

"Oh, all right..." Tony raised his hands out of the way as Cat turned around and curled up in the hollow formed by his legs, crossed like a tailor's. "Just to be clear, I'm not paper, okay? I'm the Bringer of Food. You need me to live, remember? So, no biting. Agreed?"

Cat blinked up at him, slowly, which looked sort of like a yes. And also like a you're allowed to pet me now.

"Sure, Cat." He gently placed a hand on the gray head, and those green-and-gold eyes immediately closed to satified little curves, purring vibrating under his fingers. "You even think about biting me, though, and cuddle time is over."

There came no hint of biting. Cat just purred louder, stretching and arching into his hand as it moved to stroke down the long, furry back. The big front paws alternated curling and uncurling into the fabric of his jeans, claws just barely scratching at the skin under it. But it didn't look agressive, more like some kind of cat massage, so Tony allowed that with good grace.

"Guess you miss Loki, huh?" Tony kept his voice to a murmur and rubbed his fingertips into the thick fur around Cat's neck. "Yeah, I get that. I kinda miss him too, actually." That made one of the cat's eyes slit open to watch his face. "I know, I know, I just met the guy. There's just something about him, you know?" Tony sighed and moved his hand down to the cat's chest, making it almost roll over, eager to get his fingers into the fluff between its front legs as they stretched up over the cat's head. The back paws curled in to the furry abdomen, tail a slow sweep across Tony's lap. He grinned at the display of unguarded pleasure. "Like that, do you?"

Cat let out a little meow and relaxed, almost melting into a puddle under Tony's hand.

"This is actually kind of nice", Tony agreed. He hadn't thought he would want to hang out with Loki's cat while he was away, more like it would just be a chore to check in on the critter, but now he found that it was really great. Having something warm and furry looking forward to seeing him, and rewarding him with affection, it wasn't half bad. He could get used to this...

He can get used to this, having this friendly human with his blunt fingers and his warm words around. Those hands know how to drive him crazy with that piece of string, and they know how to find every single "oh yes right there!"-spot on him.

He rubs his scent into the man's clothes as he rolls over in his lap, running his chin over the coarse fabric.

All his. At least for now.

Tony ended up spending a couple of hours playing and cuddling with Cat, before he had to go feed himself as well. When he went to sleep that night, Tony found himself wishing Cat could have been there, curled up beside him.

Monday (and Tuesday)

When he came to Loki's place the next day, Cat actually came trotting to meet him, tail held upright like a flag, so clearly signalling oh you're finally here and I've missed you! that even Tony got the message. Smiling, he crouched down, put aside the plastic bag he'd brought, and ran a hand along the cat's back, making the animal arch up on stiff legs and meow at him, eyes narrow.

"Happy to see you too, Cat. You hungry?"

The next meow was louder and more urgent.

"Yeah, I hear you. Me too. Actually brought my own lunch here, so we could eat together. That okay?"

Cat turned and trotted into the kitchen, tail still fanning in the air. Looked like a yes.

So while the cat tucked into its usual bowl of tuna, Tony sat down and unwrapped a bacon sandwich. But it wasn't long before he realized he had an audience. Cat had stopped eating his own food and was now watching Tony demolish his lunch with great interest.

”Nope”, Tony murmured with his mouth half full, shaking his head as he swallowed. ”This is people food. Not for cats.”

He felt sure that if cats could arch an eyebrow, that would have been what Cat did right then. At least the animal turned to its waterbowl instead and lapped at the liquid for a while. Which was oddly fascinating to watch, Tony discovered. The way that long tongue just scooped up the water.

But then Cat went back to watching him finish his sandwich.

When he was nearly done, almost too full for comfort, he decided that he could at least give that last piece of bacon to the cat. He removed it from the bread, slicked with butter, and held it out for Cat to try. Tony wasn't even sure it would actually want it, in the end.

Cat sniffed the morsel, licked experimentally at the butter, and decided that it liked it. Surprisingly daintily, the cat picked the little scrap of meat from his hand with its short front teeth. It sank down to the table on bent front legs, tilting its head slightly to chop the meat up with sharp little bites, swallowed, and then looked up expectantly, ears with the long tufts upright.

"Sorry, Cat. That's the last of it." Tony reached his empty hand out, to let it see for itself.

The cat sat up again to sniff his fingers, whiskers tickling him, and then that pink little tongue came out to wrap around first his index finger, then his thumb, licking away what little fat there might be left after the piece he'd already had. It scratched his skin like a piece of sand paper, and almost made him giggle.

"Fuck, that feels weird", he murmured, smiling.

He got a look that clearly said 'right back at you', before the cat thoughtfully licked his lips, stood and jumped off the table.

After that Tony had to leave to get some work done, but he promised Cat he would be back later in the day. As it turned out, it got late in the afternoon before he was done with the resisting piece of tech he had been called in to tackle, and it was early evening before he got back home. Still, he went to Loki's place before he even went home to drop off his stuff.

Cat was apparently napping on the bed when he stepped into the livingroom, and didn't look in the mood to move. So Tony decided that if Loki never knew Tony had been on his bed, he probably wouldn't suffer. He sat down, kicked his shoes off, and then stretched out beside the cat. One hand curled up under his head, the other slowly stroking the cat's head, neck, and back. Feeling it purr. It was just as nice as he had thought it would be.

He barely noticed when he nodded off and fell asleep.

He felt very warm when he woke up again. Warmer than usual after a nap. Tony blinked his eyes open and figured out why.

While he had been lying still on his back, Cat had somehow managed to place himself on his chest. He must have done it really carefully, not to wake Tony up. Now he was lying with his own chest right on Tony's sternum, paws tucked in in front of himself, the white semi-circle just visible above them. The cat's eyes were closed into pleased little curves, the ears in a neutrally relaxed position, and somehow the corners of his mouth seemed to curl up in his version of a smug smile. And he was purring, the vibrations of it traveling into Tony's chest.

It was impossible not to get a little bit warmer still, at that. Tony smiled and slowly raised a hand to cup it over the back of the cat's head. It just squeezed its eyes shut tighter, arched its neck up into the touch, and started purring louder. Now Tony was sure he could feel the purrs all the way into his heart.

”You feeling at home there, are you?” The murmur only made one of the cat's ears twitch slightly forward. His cat-smile didn't fade. ”Yeah, I can tell. Furball.” He was a bit surprised by the affectionate tone in his own voice. He'd never expected to like an animal this much.

Really, though. It was just impossible to dislike a creature that literally made his heart sing.

So he just kept stroking the gray fur until his eyes dropped closed and he fell back to sleep.

Restless. A crawling feeling along the curve of his spine. He knows what it means, somewhere deep inside, but this is so good. This warm place to curl up and rest, safe and thudding with steady heartbeats, shifting with breaths.

Good. He'll nap a little bit more. Just a little.

When darkness falls he moves to the man's side, curling up along his ribs where his nose is nearly in his armpit.

He'll just sleep a little bit more. Just a little. It's too warm and safe to leave. He's still tired.

Just a little more. He closes his eyes and drifts off again.

The next time he woke up, he was even warmer. Tony stretched, feeling sticky and sweaty, especially along his left side, and blinked his eyes open. He turned his head left, blinked again, and stared.

Loki was stretched out beside him, head resting on Tony's arm, black hair tousled and spread out, tickling Tony's skin. And he was naked. Completely, buck ass naked. Not a thread on his long, pale, sleep-heavy limbs. He was on his side, one leg angled up by Tony's and preserving at least a little of the guy's modesty, but that was all.

Tony swallowed, wondering how the hell he hadn't woken up when Loki had come back home from wherever he'd been. Usually the door to an apartment opening was more than enough to wake him up, at least if he wasn't drunk, and someone undressing and joining him in the same freaking bed should definitely have done it. Loki would have had to climb over him to get on that side of the bed, too. But he'd noticed absolutely nothing. How was that even possible? And why had Loki done it at all? Instead of waking him up and sending him home, which would have made a hell of a lot more sense, when finding an almost-stranger sleeping in your bed. Right?

That was when he noticed that a noise was coming from Loki. Soft and almost vibrating, from somewhere inside his wide, smooth chest. Something not quite a snore. More like he was... purring?

And while Tony was still trying to process this, Loki stirred, rubbed his face into Tony's arm while his eyes were still closed, and then he opened them, to stare right into Tony's face. His eyes were a bright green-and-gold, sparkling around his pupils as they contracted in the faint light in the room. A sight that was pretty familiar by now. The long, lean body tensed up, the purring stopped, and they eyed each other in silence for what at least felt like a long time.

"You..." Tony had to clear his sleep-gravelly throat, and Loki startled a little at the sound. "You don't actually have a cat, do you?"

Loki's eyes flitted down, away. Then he gave a minute shake of his head.

"That was you. All along." It wasn't a question. Tony mostly had to say it out loud to confirm it to himself.

A just as minute nod, Loki still looking away. At the same time his hand started pulling at the blanket, trying to cover himself up.

Without really thinking about it, perhaps because it had become something natural to do these last few days, Tony lifted his own hand off the bed, reached over, and ran it over Loki's head. But where Cat had purred and pressed into his touch, Loki gasped and jerked away, staring with wide eyes.

Tony blinked, and froze with his hand still out. "Sorry", he murmured, "I didn't mean to scare you."

The green-and-gold eyes shifted quickly between Tony's own, Loki's lips moved uncertainly before he spoke up. ”What... did you mean?”

And somehow, without being able to answer why, because things like that were usually not something he was good at, Tony knew what Loki really meant by that. He wasn't asking what Tony had meant to do right now, with his fingers in Loki's hair, he wanted to know about all the rest. The things Tony had told Cat. About how he liked Loki. And missed him. And thought there was something special about him...

”I meant all of it.” He'd had no reason to lie to Cat, and he saw no reason to lie to Loki, either.

”Still?” It was almost a whisper into his bicep as Loki's eyes fell again.

”Still”, Tony said. ”I've gotten to know one side of you a lot better these last few days, and I'd like to know this side, too.” The way Loki's lowered gaze made his head tilt forward let Tony comb his fingers into his hair for real, and this time Loki let him. A soft, barely-there purring started again. ”So maybe you'd like to have lunch some time? Again?”

Loki's smile when he glanced up at Tony then, a small curve at the corners of his mouth, was so much like his cat smile. ”Yes”, he murmured around the purr, ”I'd like that.”

”Then it's a date.”