My War Is Over (Original Unfinished Version)

Chapter Twenty

"I'd think twice before attempting to poison me." Loki's voice is toneless, but his burning glare speaks volumes. Tony rolls his eyes, throwing up his hands and nearly dropping the knife he's holding in the process. 

"I swear to you that this is a normal thing on Earth. Fake meat tastes exactly like real meat, so you get the experience but not the actual animal product. It's not poison." Tony has been proving to be a quite formidable cook, even in the light of Loki's revelation that he's a vegetarian. Yet, two days later, when Tony had shown him the faux meat sausages, Loki immediately decided that they were poisonous. Of course, he did. 

"I don't understand why you Midgardians create such things. If you don't eat meat why put in the effort of creating something entirely different that tastes exactly like it?"

"Because some people still like the taste of meat even though they don't want to eat it. Or can't eat it. Why are you a vegetarian anyway? Are-hey wait you're a shapeshifter, aren't you?"

"I am, yes," Loki responds slowly, lifting an eyebrow as he continues to stir the pot Tony had assigned him to slowly. 

"Then since you can 'be' any animal, wouldn't any animal product you eat technically be cannibalism?" Loki scrunches up his nose. 

"Doubtful, since the forms I take on are not my true ones. But I most certainly do not appreciate the idea. I won't be able to get that out of my head for quite some time." 

"Sorry, not sorry. Oh, lookie, your poisonous sausage is ready. Yummy!" Tony divides the faux sausages onto two plates along with a heaping pile of shredded brussels sprouts from Loki's pot, and a piece of sourdough bread. He carries the plates to the breakfast nook and takes the seat on the inside of the kitchen while Loki takes the seat on the outside, an unspoken regularity in their slowly developing routine that Tony finds he rather likes. 

"Can you transform into a plant?"

"Yes," Loki sighs, rolling his eyes. 

"Then you can't eat anything without it sort of being cannibalism, eh?"

"Stark," Loki scowls at the inventor, "Stop." 

"Alright, alright, stopping," Tony chuckles, raising his hands in surrender as he watches Loki peer at his food with narrowed eyes. 

"Reindeer Games, seriously, it's not poison. It ain't gonna kill you." Tony chuckles as Loki pokes at one of the faux sausages with his fork in clear distrust. 

"How unfortunate," Loki sighs, finally cutting a piece off the link and placing it delicately in his mouth. He ignores Tony's glare in favor of making a pleased sound as he chews. 

"Alright, I stand corrected. Your atrocious faux meats are not atrocious after all." Tony shoots him a smug grin, digging into his own meal as well. 

"I told you that you'd like 'em, didn't I?" Loki hums. 

"So, did you want me to wash your hair for you after dinner?" Tony asks, tilting his head when Loki stiffens. 

"Uh, yes...if...if you-"

"I want to, don't worry about that. You just seem a little uncomfortable, is all." Tony reassures him, continuing to eat in hopes that would put Loki at ease. He had always hated admitting his feelings, but especially when people were staring. The room would seem to shrink and everyone's gazes would burn into his skin, hot and itchy and unbearable and he'd clam up more than he'd heal. Loki seems to be the same, quiet and reserved until he can't be anymore, so Tony leans back in his seat, cutting up the last of his faux sausage as he waits for Loki's response; instead of staring at him.