Work Text:
Loki tossed a few packages into the cart, then surveyed them critically. She came up next to him, slipping an arm around his waist, and he automatically lowered his lips to her forehead without thinking. He gave her a sheepish grin as he pulled away.
“Gods,” he said. “It’s like you’ve got a magnet up there. Sorry about that.”
“I don’t mind a bit,” she replied easily as she looked over the shopping cart. "No need to stop on my account."
“Think that’s going to be enough?”
Aeslin tapped her fingers on his waistband as she thought. “Tony, who’s bringing Pepper, who’s bringing Rhodey, who I don’t think has any wandering souls this week. You. Me. Parker.”
“Does he have a ride?”
“Nope. His car’s not here yet, so he texted me earlier today and told me he’s planning to run. Said he’s getting the workout in first so he can celebrate his inaugural Carbs-and-Gamestravaganza without a hint of restraint. He’ll probably bum a ride home with Rhodes sometime tonight.”
“He’s running.”
“Yep.”
“From his place to ours.”
“Yep. Apparently he’s mapped it out and everything.”
A second’s consideration, and Loki chose a fourth package of bacon to add to the bunch. “Well, then. That should be enough for him, at least. What’s next on the list?”
“An ungodly amount of eggs, and then to the produce section. You promised Rhodey mimosa supplies. How are we doing on vanilla? Pancakes aren’t the same without it.”
He thought briefly. “Not great? Better safe than sorry.”
“Now there’s a phrase I never thought I’d hear from you,” she said with a laugh. “Are you getting soft?”
She dodged his playful nudge, and he gave her a stern look. “Hush, woman.”
“Make me.”
“Ooo,” he said, one eyebrow going up as he gave her a wicked grin. “Challenge accepted.”
***
The afternoon brought a brief lull in the gaming; Parker slept sprawled on the couch, and the others were scattered around the deck and beach. Tony looked up at Loki’s approach.
“You ready?”
“Yes,” Loki replied. “I’ve set it up in the library.”
Stark followed him down the hall. Loki smiled a little. “Before we begin, though, I’m invoking Rule Four.”
A brief count on Stark’s fingers before he answered. “Fully exempt from pranks or other forms of deliberate mischief until otherwise indicated. Agreed, absolutely. So what’s this about?”
“You asked me to figure out what I wanted,” Loki replied, opening the library door and gesturing for Stark to take a seat; the other man flopped onto the cushioned window seat, hands clasped around one knee. Loki took the large portfolio from the shelf, handing it to Stark without showing a hint of the strange nervousness clamoring under his skin. “So I did.”
Tony opened the portfolio to the first page; Aeslin had spent the better part of ten hours helping Loki put the thing together, offering suggestions as to the order of the pieces, and he silently thanked whatever gods had made her for the artist’s blood flowing through every one of her veins. Stark’s eyebrows shot up, taking in the rich colors, intricate detail and careful notations. He looked at the next page, then the next, then looked up at Loki.
“Books. These are books.” Stark turned the next folios almost reverently. “Holy shit, son, and I don’t say that lightly. I’ve never seen anything like this. Do you have any mockups? Anything beyond these?”
Loki let the tension drain through his fingertips as Stark turned back to the first page, fascination plain on his face. “No,” he told him. “No mockups as yet. I’ve only done the designs so far; nothing else concrete, but if you look at the notations,” here Loki glided a finger gently along the side of the page, “they’ll tell you what the final plan would be.” He indicated the first design, spiraling vines, brilliantly carved roses, deep brown leather. “For instance, this one is based on a botany text from the late nineteenth century. The next one is for a book of fairy tales. The third is for a personal journal, and so on.”
Stark turned to the second folio, and Loki noticed how his fingers went to the edges, stroking along the bosses that marked the corners of the book cover and seemed to leap off the page, though they were nothing but colored pencil. The other man smothered a grin as he realized what he was doing and looked up at Loki.
“These are incredible. You want to make books?”
Loki leaned against the bookshelf ladder. “Create them, repair them, restore them, rework them. You can ask Aeslin; she had to drag me out of three different rare book shops in New Orleans, plus used bookstores in Sedona and Jacksonville. I spent every spare moment I could at the manuscript exhibit that just closed; it was a show over at one of the museums near Los Angeles, and Jarvis was kind enough to get me a meeting with the curator, who’s also the head conservator. He and I exchanged information, talked about techniques and fixes, and apparently I’m miles ahead of almost anyone else he knows.” He smirked gently. “I’d wager that comes from spending more time in a library than most mortals spend alive, but he doesn’t need to know that. He’s also put me in touch with some local colleges; he thinks I’d make an excellent guest lecturer, whatever that means, but that’s really beside the point.”
Tony lifted the portfolio. “The point being these.”
“Exactly. Don’t mistake me. I’m having a delightful time negotiating contracts and toying with vendors, plus all the other bits of business you’ve thrown at me, and I’d like to continue with that. Keep the tools sharp, as it were, but-”
There was a familiar gleam in Stark’s eyes as he cut Loki off mid-sentence. “You want a workshop?”
A smirk. “I thought you’d never ask. I’ll certainly pay to equip it, even if it means it doesn’t get off the ground quite as fast as I’d like. I’ve done some research on what-”
Stark broke in again. “I’ll get you a workshop. Forget money. Forget working it off. Make me a list; check it twice, and I promise cross my heart no tricks. Required payment is one of these for me, made to order, and I don’t care if it’s The Cat in the Hat on the inside. One completely original work, never to be redone. Sold?”
Loki grinned. “Sold.”
Tony placed the portfolio carefully back on the shelf, then shook Loki’s hand a little too long and a little too tightly. “You know what happens when we leave this room, right? Rule Four goes back out the window.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Well, then,” Tony said graciously. “After you.”
“Like hell,” Loki replied. “How stupid do you think I am?”