precious alcohol all over the surface of the bar when he jumped -manfully, mind you- and failed to squeal like a little girl frightened of the dark, no matter what sort of
irrefutable 'proof' to the contrary J.A.R.V.I.S was probably busy encrypting right now.
"Jesus. Fucking. Christ! You've got to give us, mortals, some sort of warning that you're haunting a room before you pull an all-out ghostly speech around us in the middle of
the night, bluebell. We have fragile constitutions, you know?" He muttered, grabbing the nearest rag to mop the spilled alcohol distractedly while peering intently into the dark,
trying in vain to get his Loki-deprived eyes their first post-Asgard trip glimpse of the most elusive gorgeousness of them all.
"Lights, J.A.R.V.I.S, lights. I'm pretty sure you can do whatever nefarious thing you're currently doing and increase visibility around here at the same time."
"Sorry, Sir. I assumed you'd prefer to have your usual excuse of 'Gosh! It's really, really, dark in here' handy when you pulled your thirty sixth most successful seduction move,
ever, on poor, unsuspecting Mr. Odinson and fake-fell into his lap."
Now Tony's shock was so immense that the wet rag he was holding dropped from his startled fingers all the way to the floor with a loud plop. His eyes widened impossibly and
he jerked his head upwards and to the left, towards where he knew the closest camera in the room was located, arching a peeved eyebrow at his uncharacteristically
treacherous A.I in his most emphatic 'WTF?' expression.
"Giving away that sort of signature Stark move could be considered treason in many countries, Jeeves." He grumbled distractedly even as he tried to keep count of the subtle
flashes of color that kept coming from the side of the camera he has so intently staring at. Three rapid reds quickly followed by two long greens was code for 'acted like a dick
because Pepper is in distress and I was trying to make her laugh, Sir.' Only Pepper wasn't here and there was no reason at all for J.A.R.V.I.S to implement protocol 567,
unless...
Shit. Shit. Shit. He'd told his personal butler-cum-companion-cum-best-friend/confidante to follow the parameters he'd set out for Pepper while they were still together for
everything regarding Loki until he had enough data about sexy-long-leg's likes, dislikes and emotional triggers to input a new protocol into his system. That meant that Loki
was distressed and J.A.R.V.I.S had been trying to make him laugh with that subversive little stunt which, judging by the glaring lack of godly mirth in the air, had failed
spectacularly to achieve the intended goal.
"Lights, Jeeves, lights. At 100%. Right now!" He managed to bark through the heavy knot that was trying to take over his throat. His A.I brought the room to full illumination so
abruptly that his poor eyes began to ache almost immediately, but a lifetime of dealing with both self-inflicted hangovers and the merciless tough-love approach to helping him
trough them that J.A.R.V.I.S so often embraced, meant he was able to focus on his surroundings a lot faster than Loki.
Tony was halfway across the room by the time Frosty, the horned blueberry, managed to reduce the instinctive blinking of his red-rimmed green eyes to one third. And he'd
already sat and was staring at the hastily smudged tear-tracks that his crush must have been in the process of drying when the lights came up with something so close to
panic that he wished he'd thought of cleaning up his spilled scotch with his own tongue instead of mopping it off with that rag.
"I hope the idea of me falling accidentally into your lap isn't what drove you to tears, peaches, because that'll throw all kinds of nasty spanners into the plans I've made for
the next 50 years or so."
Loki flinched slightly backwards, plastered himself against the cushions on the other side of the couch and lowered his gaze to stare self-consciously at his bare feet before
whispering stiltedly:
"Let's not talk about that. Please, Anthony."
Something really cold and awfully close to heartbreak settled in the pit of his stomach upon hearing that particularly unwelcome request.
"Does that mean we're putting the conversation off for just now, or do you expect me to keep it under lock and key for good?"
Loki's miserable-looking eyes lifted then, settling over him with a kind of hopeless vulnerability that made every hair on the back of Tony's neck stand on end.
"I can no longer shield you from Heimdall. I can no longer assure us true privacy. I've been placed on a very short leash indeed when it comes to you."
The engineer's confusion increased, making it impossible for him to feel relieved just yet about the fact that Loki hadn't told him that whatever had been between them was
already as dead as the Dodo as far as he was concerned.
"Heimdall is the pervy peeping Tom that operates your bridge thing, isn't he?"
Loki's attempt at laughter was a fragile, little sound that resembled a strangled gasp.
"Heimdall is Asgard's gatekeeper. The king's ultimate spy. He has eyes and ears into the personal business of every inhabitant of the nine realms except me."
"There you go, then. You can fool his sight with your mojo, but I can't. Doesn't that mean I've always been victim of his spying tendencies? The guy has been watching me all my life already, yeah? I don't see how that's a reason for you to cry buckets in the dark at bloody three thirty in the morning. It's not like I'm new to crazy paparazzi, mad
stalkers and the occasional uber-creepy bodily-fluids collector."
"I have always had the ability to shield those I interact with from Heimdall's sight on a temporary basis, Anthony. He would have been able to watch your interactions with
everybody else, but our encounters have been a complete blank to him since I finally realized the nature of your feelings towards me. Heimdall hasn't been privy to any of our
dates so far and, since the king's locator runes can only pinpoint my position at any given time, all they've known about them in Asgard is that I was either here, in your
tower, or out at the sushi restaurant."
"So your father was trying to get the scoop on us by asking his all-seeing buddy to keep an eye on me. Only things didn't work out the way he wanted because you were
shielding me, too. Is that it?" Tony questioned in his most logical tone even though his gut had started churning, already bent on informing him that it had a very bad feeling
about this. A very bad feeling indeed.
"He took an interest in the Avengers after Thor's first involvement with them. The allfather likes to know everybody's weaknesses, friends and enemies alike. He wasn't
particularly thrilled with what he learned about you, Anthony. He believes you're self-destructive. Impulsive. Uncontrollable. Immoral... He considers you the worst kind of
influence for a 'rebellious and troublesome child who is sufficiently weak-minded to have tried to conquer a blooming realm just because he mixed with the wrong crowd.'"
Tony laughed despite himself, startled by the ridiculous picture his mind had just conjured of a one-eyed Howard look-alike giving a sullen Loki the 'you're-being-a-badteenager'
speech.
"Is that why he called you up so suddenly? To read you the riot act? I must say that was surprisingly sneaky for such a prissy-pants guy. I thought that Hogun-what's-hisname
said your mum missed you something fierce and had convinced the old fart to let you visit."
Loki turned deadly pale and rushed forwards in a jerky motion that halted abruptly once he'd brought himself close enough to press trembling fingertips against Tony's shocked
lips while whispering rather frantically:
"Mind your words, Anthony. I. Can. No. Longer. Shield. You. Heimdall is watching you now."
Tony's head pounded. It whirled with both frustrated confusion and awakening desire in response to
the sudden contact that his usually aloof beloved was bestowing upon
him. Not that the reindeer wasn't skittish enough at the moment to put the most highly-strung thoroughbred to shame, but then he'd hardly ever come this close to him of his
own free will in the past, let alone bothered to touch him on the mouth while leaning masterfully over him, so... yeah. This Heimdall business was definitely suck-balls bad, but
it was also good. Good in the most exciting, toe-curlingly-arousing way, ever.
"OK. The perv's watching me. How is he doing it, though? How come you can't magic me blank anymore?"
Loki's already pale face lost whatever meager color it still possessed and he jerked backwards once again until he ended up siting on his haunches in the middle of the couch.
Tony's body followed him instinctively, eyeing him with growing anxiety as he took note of the unbearable dullness that had taken over those gorgeous green eyes before his
god lifted a shaking right arm, forcing him to focus on the thin golden band that encircled his wrist.
"The king shackled that spell when I refused to swear never to use it in your company of my own free will. I can no longer perform it, Anthony."
Tony went cold from head to toes, looking at the deceptively innocuous, pretty little bracelet as if it were a poisonous snake rearing its head for attack. He remembered the
look of horror that had crawled all over Loki's bruised features when his brother had clamped the magic-dampening manacles he'd brought down from Asgard after the New York
debacle. He knew the reindeer had hated them more than being bashed by The Hulk or the muzzle that had robbed him off his voice because Loki, proud sorcerer that he was,
couldn't bear to have his magical abilities hindered in any way. Messing up with his mojo was the ultimate slap in the face as far as his reindeer was concerned and Tony
couldn't believe the one-eyed cyclops who'd spent two thousand years raising him hadn't realized that already.
"Why would your dad target your magic again? You haven't done anything. What the hell is wrong with the bastard? I thought he was all about second chances, trying his best
to do right by you and all that cool, fatherly stuff."
Loki laughed bitterly.
"The king of Asgard is NOT my father. I've told you this many times already."
"And I thought you were being your usual stubborn self about that adoption thing, OK? I assumed you were going for a daddy-themed version of the tantrum you both have
every time you tell Thor that he's not your brother."
Loki glared at him haughtily:
"My claim in that respect is not unfounded. It's irrefutable fact that I'm not of Thor's blood and we both know it."
"Sometimes brotherhood isn't a matter of blood but of choice, sweet-pea. Sometimes family just finds us and it doesn't matter at all whether we're from Earth or Asgard or
fucking Frostyland."
Loki smiled faintly at his blatant bastardization of his true realm's name and Tony's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly as he came to the shocking realization that he wasn't as
bad at this comforting-your-other-half thing as he thought he'd be. He could do this. He was obviously doing it already. He'd keep spouting more ridiculously outrageous
nonsense until his sexy reindeer showed signs of feeling better and the awful, bruised look that currently haunted his eyes had abandoned them completely. He'd do it because
Loki needed him to do it, and if that brought them even closer than they had been before the heavenly old fart decided to try his hand at breaking them apart, then all the
power to them. Tony was swiftly developing a visceral dislike for eternally stupid cyclops and anything he could do to stomp on their ancient bunions until they howled with
rage he'd gladly do thrice over, with bells on.
His hand settled on Loki's slender wrist, tracing the thin band of gold with horrified fascination and hating the slight heat it gave off as it rested against Loki's naturally cold
skin. This blasted thing must be burning his stoic and gorgeous prince constantly, and the thought that Loki had been carrying it around for almost a week without him being
any the wiser was digging a bottomless hole of sheer resentment in his wildly pounding heart.
"How come Thor hasn't said anything about this? We both know he can't keep this kind of secret to save his life."
"The allfather summoned me for a private audience while we were there. Thor was busy sparring with his friends at the time."
Tony's eyes began to prickle with something that could have been either sinking sorrow or overflowing frustration.
"And you didn't tell him what happened? Didn't it occur to you that he could have intervened on your behalf? Or that I'd have loved to be given the chance to figure out how
to snap this bloody shit off your wrist?"
"There is nothing you can do. Fighting mighty gods and magic is above your considerable skills, Anthony." Loki pulled his arm away sharply, no longer willing to accept the small
comfort of Tony's curious fingertips, and the inventor forced himself to take a deep breath and count to 500 before he even moved a muscle, lest he tried to grab the stubborn
bastard in order to shake some sense into him while the guy was in the process of trying to preserve his precious dignity by closing himself off behind an emotional barricade
that could put the Wall of China to shame.
"Let's ignore for now the fact that I once managed to defeat mighty magical you and your band of alien lizard minions, then. Thor is used to fighting gods and sorcerers,
though. Why your mother, herself, has kicked that kind of ass for fun plenty of times as well. Why didn't you go to either of them? I'm sure they'd have helped you, Loki."
"Thor has never chosen my side against his father's and mother wouldn't have chosen it, either. I am alone in this, just as I've always been."
Tony wanted to hug him fiercely enough to break his bones then, but he knew such action wouldn't be seen as the comfort he wanted it to be. No. Loki would think it
patronizing, a contact born of pity instead of love. And he couldn't afford that. Not right now when it was obvious that his sorcerer was a single green puff away from
magicking himself into total retreat once again.
"It just doesn't make any sense for the old bastard to mess with that particular spell. It's not as if he's forcing you into the perv's view too. I mean he's already on shaky
enough ground with you and he knows it. Why would he risk upsetting you this much for the dubious pleasure of hearing me whisper mushy sweet nothings in your ear?"
Loki eyed him warily, wriggling on the couch until he'd managed to sit himself back on his ass and bring his knees up between them, a physical barrier to add to the invisible
one that already separated them. Then he placed his sharply defined cheek atop his bony knees and stared blindly into space, making Tony's hand just itch to breach the
distance between them and card his fingers through that long and silky dark hair, loop a slightly curling lock around a pale ear, let him know that he could try to build as many
walls as he wanted between them and they still wouldn't be enough to keep him away for good.
"Talk to me, bluebell. The bastard already knows he's pissed you off. What harm can putting your thoughts into words do at this point?"
Loki sighed, clearly exasperated, but his lips opened willingly enough, offering a quiet explanation.
"He knows I hate it when he looks at me. He knows his scrutiny makes me uncomfortable enough to... retreat. He's counting on my natural inclination to shy away from giving
him the show my current inability to shield you could provide him with to put a stop to what he considers a 'less than desirable' association."
Tony laughed, chuffed despite himself by the fact that a mighty god was actually having the daddy fits to end all daddy fits over his 'associat
ion' with his youngest child. That
pushed his bad-boy vibe to a whole new bad-ass level in the best possible way. He suddenly felt sexy, cocky and impossibly powerful. He felt one-thousand per cent James
Dean material and that'd have been awesomely cool if it wasn't for the fact that Loki had been forced to pay such steep price for the compliment.
"That just means poor dear old fart's remaining eye isn't working as well as it should, otherwise he'd have already noticed that I haven't been 'less than desirable' since I left
diapers behind. I'm Tony Fucking Stark, man. I'm the definition of Desirable with a capital D and every letter emblazoned in diamond encrusted gold at least five inches thick."
Loki's somber gaze lightened with reluctant amusement and he shook his head from left to right, obviously stumped.
"Your bold daring never fails to astound me, Anthony. You disrespect the allfather himself while fully aware that he's probably listening in on this very conversation, and you do
it without a single flinch of fear for the consequences. Your courage is probably only matched by whatever madness prompts you to behave so recklessly."
Tony swallowed past the huge lump trying to move into his throat as he finally decided to send caution to the wind and recaptured Loki's hand, curling his work-roughened
digits around the sorcerer's slightly trembling ones and holding onto them for dear life as he whispered quietly, but with feeling:
"I will place myself on the opposite side of whoever doesn't have your back, reindeer. And if that means facing off against your dad then I'll go toe to toe against him and find
a way to win."
"He's not my..."
"Yeah, he is. He's doing this because he cares, even though it's a pretty shitty thing to do and he probably just added another thousand years or so to the proverbial
doghouse you already had him stuffed in, but then I'm pretty sure I'd forbid my own daughter from 'cavorting' out of sight with a ruffian like me, so yeah, I get why he's gone
this far even though I think it's pretty dumb of him."
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