Everybody Wants to Rule the World // Frostiron

Purple Rain // Chapter 12

    When Loki finally opened his eyes his sight was blurry and he had the worst migraine he'd ever experienced. He could hear the distant voices of Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark. Where was he again? After a painstaking moment, he remembered the mistake that had landed him in Stark Tower, but now he was clearly even more hungover and completely without memory of the night's events. 

    "Why don't you just hand him over to S.H.I.E.L.D?" Loki heard the distant voice of Natasha Romanoff. "We have everything sorted out. We can secure him."

    The equally distant voice of Tony Stark replied, "No, that'll be alright. He's settled in here. Hell, it probably keeps him more tranquil. Plus, isn't this the living arrangement Thor would prefer?"

    Natasha sighed. "Thor doesn't know what's best."

    "Maybe not, but I'd rather be on his good side."

    After a few more minutes of strained conversation, Loki heard the elevator door open and close. Natasha Romanoff had left. Through his half-lidded vision, Loki saw Tony pacing back and forth. Before he could think too much of this, Loki fell back asleep.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Tony Stark sat down at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in his hand. (How unlike him.) From an outsiders perspective he looked stoic, but on the inside his brain was moving faster than one could fathom. His mind ranged from blatant upset to a joyful schoolgirl shouting, 'He kissed me!'

    The events of earlier were a mistake, without a doubt, but Tony couldn't shake the realization that not only did he not hate Loki, he harbored feelings beyond platonic emotion. The worst art of the entire dilemma was that considering the amount of alcohol in the god's system, Loki wouldn't even recall the events. 

    As if on cue to this thought, the god stirred, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Stark?" he half-yawned.

    "Yes?" Tony replied immediately getting to his feet to check on Loki.

    "What time is it?"

    "10 P.M."

    "Fuck, how much did I drink?"

    Tony chuckled uneasily. "Quite a bit."

    "I'm going back to sleep."

    "The hell you are. If you sleep out here I'll be forced to sleep on the floor. You know how the deal works," Tony huffed.

    Loki waved his hand groggily. "Ah, screw that. Go to bed. It's not like I'm a dangerous criminal or anything."

    "It's exactly like that."

     "Oh. Guess you're right. Take the floor, tin man."

    "It's my tower. I'd like the couch, thank you," Tony said indignantly.

    "Legs don't work," Loki countered. "Legs wobbly. Brain too. You can have the floor."

    After realizing Loki had once again passed out, Tony conceded, making himself a pallet bed in the floor near the couch. "Night Lokes."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Soft morning light trickled into the living room, falling in an almost picturesque way on the two sleeping men. Tony slowly opened his eyes and tried to move ,but only felt something weighing him down. As his eyes began to focus he could clearly the sleeping form of Loki slouched nearly on top of him and twisted up in his green blanket. At some point in the night he must have fallen off of the couch. "Loki," Tony groaned tiredly. "Wake up."

    "Hm," the still sleeping god mumbled. "I'm tired."

    "And on top of me. Please get off."

    The god adjusted himself so he flopped over on the hardwood floor. "Fuck."

    "Well, don't do that either."

    Now more awake, Loki sat up. "Did I fall asleep next to you or what? I can tell I've been drinking. I feel like shit."

    "You don't remember anything?" Tony asked to clarify.

    "Not a thing. Did I do anything diabolical? Stomp on a puppy? Hex a toddler?"

    Tony paused. He could admit to the god's inappropriate behavior but that would raise too many questions. "Not really. You just passed out on the couch and fell on me. You're heavier than you look, by the way."

    "Rude," Loki yawned. "I'm going to fix some tea. Want any?"

    "I don't drink tea."

    "Mhm."

    For a moment, Tony was alone in the living room but more alone in his thoughts. The same questions raced back and forth millions of times. His mind couldn't help but replay the events of the night before over and over in his head. It was wrong. He knew that. Loki was fundamentally bad and Tony was fundamentally good. Right? He begged for his own sanity that things could be as simple as that. 

    Besides, how would S.H.I.E.L.D view this or the public for that matter? If it ever got out that Tony was attracted to a public enemy #1 he'd lose his status as a hero. He'd be publicly humiliated and ostracized. Everything he worked for would disappear. And yet Tony could not shake the feeling that he would not be forgetting these feelings so quickly.