A/N: So many apologies for the lateness of this final update. It has been a crazy few days at home, with my sister visiting and some early birthday activities. But, here it is, all finished. I hope the ending is everything you hoped for. Enjoy it, because I won't be posting anything new for a little bit. I am still working on several works for FrostIron and WinterFrost, but I've fallen a bit behind in school and need to make the time to bring my grade up, since the term will be over in just over a month. But I will be back eventually! Thank you for all the love you've shown for this!

-xoxo

Summary: Loki finally explains about what happened the night Steve saved his life. And Tony and Loki come to a conclusion about their future.

Loki probably had a point; Tony would grant him that. Moving in together really wasn't the best idea, at this point. He couldn't get Loki to admit there was a possibility of them taking a shot at a real relationship, and here he was asking him to park his toothbrush in his bathroom.

Some genius.

But that didn't mean he wasn't more than a little disappointed at Loki turning him down anyway. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, his attention was quickly veered in another direction.

When he'd spotted what turned out to be the tail end of a big ass snake on Loki's hand earlier, admittedly, Tony hadn't expected more than half of Loki's body to be covered in tattoos. Maybe there was truth to the idea that getting tattooed could be addicting. Or maybe Loki was just a really good friend to Bucky and provided an accessible canvas. He remembered the first time he saw Loki completely naked, that night in the dorm. He remembered how surprised he was that, despite Loki being a male—and that he'd been sporting old and new bruises at the time—he had been incredibly aroused by the sight of all that flawless, pale flesh. He found the tattoos were having a similar, if less powerful—at the moment—effect.

If anything, Tony thought Loki's choices were interesting. The detail in what apparently was an ancestral symbol was impressive; he made the assumption the skull masks were related to his job—and wondered if Loki had somehow become an actor. The raven, the phoenix, and flames intrigued him; they were all symbols, representatives of deeper, possibly emotional, meanings.

But the dates… Those gave Tony pause.

12-08-03. Tony remembered the day Loki's mom had succumbed to the cancer that she'd been trying to beat for the previous two years. He would never forget Loki calling him at home that night, crying so hard he could barely speak. That date, he understood.

08-18-15. In the cave, Tony had lost all concept of time. He ate when food was provided; he slept when he was tired enough to, or Yinsen forced him. When he finally got out, and saw the light of day, and was around English-speaking people again, and discovered he'd only been gone for three months, he was surprised. But, then, in those three short months he'd lost an entire lifetime. He was confused as to why that should be an important date for Loki, why it should warrant a permanent reminder where he could see it every day. Tony was starting to think they had both been underestimating their feelings for one another since they'd been apart.

10-04-06. Tony had a feeling he knew why Loki had that particular day on his wrist. And when Loki confirmed it, his stomach plummeted, and he felt nauseous.

His fingers curled around Loki's wrist, covering the dates and the Norse rune, and he gave himself a moment to get his emotions in check. He wanted to scream at Loki. He wanted to demand to know why he got that date inked onto his wrist. Why would he want to be reminded of any of these things? In direct contrast to the turmoil he was feeling inside, Tony calmly slid his hand down, so their hands were palm to palm, his thumb hooked around Loki's.

"Tell me what happened?"

Loki shook his head. "Why?"

"Because I wanna know."

"It's not what you think," he said almost brokenly. His eyes were still lowered; his fingers tightened around Tony's. He started to speak again, but his voice failed him. "I wasn't trying to…it was an accident. But…with everything that had happened…" He pulled his hand from Tony's grasp and pressed both of his hands to his face, swiped at his eyes and sniffled. "People will think what they want. I suppose you will, too."

Tony's hand curled into a fist on his thigh, cold now from the absence of Loki's hand. "Then make me understand."

"I was a wreck after you vanished from campus," Loki started, his voice much stronger now. "I tend to veer toward self-destruction when I'm in that kind of emotional state. Anything to numb the pain. It's likely why I slept with Thor that night back in high school."

Tony couldn't fight the pang of envy, but he managed to keep the dismissive scoff muffled.

"I spent the summer indulging myself. When classes started in the fall, I wasn't quite ready to give it up, and my attendance suffered. I went to more parties than classes. I was constantly on something. There was nothing I wouldn't drink, smoke, swallow, snort." He peeked up at Tony. "Or sleep with."

Tony couldn't hold the gaze and looked away, clenching his jaw. Shock warred with guilt; anger with shame. Tony had no place to judge Loki, but, he justified silently, his drug use had always been social. And he was a scientist; he calculated his intake of anything he took to make sure it wasn't ever too much that he couldn't function the next day. Most of the time.

"Classes had been going for almost six weeks," Loki continued. There was a flatness to his voice now that told Tony he was trying to detach himself from it; as if it never happened. "There was a party at someone's apartment near campus. By the time I had arrived, I was already…I had already been partaking elsewhere."

Tony dropped his head into his hand, suddenly unsure he wanted to hear the story, after all.

"Inevitably, a complaint was made, and the party was moved. They went to that bar…erm, on the corner, with the billiards."

"The Rack," Tony supplied, speaking from behind his hand. He wasn't sure how or why he knew that, but he and Loki shared a mutual amused look that seemed to ease some of the tension in the room.

"Yes, probably that one. Anyway…I didn't follow the group. I don't remember why I stayed behind, but I believe I was wandering around, and somehow, I found myself sitting by the pool in the center of the complex. I had a bottle of something—vodka, I think—drinking myself further into a stupor. At least, I was, until this girl showed up. I can't remember her name. I just remember she had this dark, curly hair, and she wore glasses. And she was very…bubbly."

Tony sorted through his mental files. "Darcy." Loki sat up a little straighter, brows high as he looked at Tony. He rolled his eyes. "Excuse my photographic memory. It's not like I slept with her. She was a friend of a chick in my physics classes. Christ."

Loki slunk down again and murmured, "Right." The tension was back. "Well. She was passing by and saw me and decided it was the perfect time to strike up a conversation. Apparently, she'd had quite a crush on me."

"All the girls had a crush on you, Loki. Even Romanov, from what I remember."

He scoffed. "She'll deny that to her dying day."

"Probably. So what happened?"

Loki's eyes dropped again, his brows furrowed. "I was…unkind to her. She was being very friendly and I was…" He paused, long enough to draw Tony's attention. He looked upset with himself and Tony's heart started to race. What the hell happened? he wanted to ask. "You need to understand that I didn't think I deserved any friendship or kindness from anyone. I thought I would only…fuck it up, eventually. And I'd done a very good job of alienating myself from everyone."

Guilt seeped into every inch of Tony's being, making his stomach twist painfully.

"There was someone—a friend of hers. He heard us from his apartment, and stepped out on his balcony. In my drunkenness, I had begun to berate the poor girl. So he was shouting at me for shouting at her. I grew frustrated and and annoyed, and I slammed the bottle onto to the table, cut a deep gash in my hand."

Tony caught him rubbing his fingers at the spot. It seemed to be covered now by that serpent's tail. He looked at Loki's face again, saw his gaze fixed straight ahead, but looking at nothing at all. His face was so blank, Tony could only stare in shock.

"I didn't feel any pain. I'd had too much to drink. But I was…crying. My vision was blurry. And I couldn't walk straight. And when she…tried to help me, I pushed her away and…and I tripped."

Tony gasped. Tears sprung into his eyes, even as Loki shook himself out of his trance.

"I don't remember much of what happened after that. I found out later, when I woke up in the hospital, that I had hit my head against the edge of the pool before I fell in. Uh…Darcy couldn't swim; her friend had called for help. But I got lucky. Our good Captain happened to be passing by."

Tony swallowed the lump in his throat. "Steve?"

"Mm," Loki nodded, a small lift to his lips. "He was on his way to see James. He lived in that complex. He heard Darcy's scream and acted quickly. I'd lost a lot of blood by that point. Half a second longer and I would have been—uh…ahem."

A rush of emotion hit Tony, and he had to hold back a sob.

"Well, they wouldn't have been able to revive me. As it was, my stomach had to be pumped. On the bright side…" he turned his head to look at Tony, shrugged and gave him a small, sad smile. His eyes began to fill, and Tony didn't know if it was from the emotion of telling the story or if it was a reaction to the tears in his eyes. "I've not had a drop of alcohol since that night."

Struggling to control his voice and his breath, Tony asked in a strained voice, "You cleaned up?"

He looked away. "In a manner of speaking. I didn't have much of a choice. I was ordered by the court, and my father, to check in to a rehabilitation center and complete a program. Despite Darcy's report, the authorities felt I was trying to harm myself. It was…the first of several trips to such a facility."

Tony was ready to burst. His chest burned with the tears he was fighting back. Fisting his hands in the duvet, he jumped up, pacing away from Loki toward the door.

"Anthony…?"

He couldn't get a word out. All the feelings of anger and shame and guilt were surrounding him, piling into him, weighing him down. Crushing him. All he could think of was that he had almost lost him; Tony had almost lost Loki. Forever. And he never would have known.

"Anthony. Talk to me."

Everything hurt. His head, his heart. Oh, God, his heart. His fingers curled first into his t-shirt, willing the ache in his chest to go away. Then he dragged his hands up his face, his short, trimmed nails leaving red streaks across his cheeks, until he could fist his hands in his hair, tugging, hard, adding more to his pain.

A gut-wrenching cry escaped him, finally, and he slammed a fist to Loki's bedroom door. A hand landed softly on his shoulder, and Tony jolted around. He fell back against the door, knowing Loki was there in front of him. But now…now he would have to live with the knowledge that Loki nearly died. Because of him.

"It's all my fault."

Loki hadn't spoken of that night in years. He had stopped, eventually, analyzing his actions, scrutinizing over every word he had uttered, every move he had made after he left his last, and most successful attempt, at sobriety. At one point, he questioned even himself whether he really had tried to kill himself. There were minute details that escaped him now, such as Darcy's name and what he'd been drinking, but everything after…well, Laufey would never let him forget it, for as long as the bastard lived. Which was part of the reason Loki rarely saw him these days.

He must have explained it wrong. He must have done something wrong; Tony looked ready to explode. He counted the seconds down to the inevitable explosion, ready to hear the words he'd heard most after it all happened: "what the hell were thinking?" Or "how stupid could you be?"

What he did not expect was for Tony to completely implode.

"Anthony?" Why wasn't he saying anything? Why wouldn't he look at him? Rising from the bed, Loki moved toward him, slowly, hoping he wasn't planning on leaving now. Not like this. "Anthony. Talk to me." He started forward again, only to jerk to a halt at the excruciating wail Tony released. The sound ripped right through Loki; a hand clutched into his shirt at his belly as he tentatively reached out with the other for Tony.

"It's all my fault."

Guilt swamped Loki, his jaw clenching against it. "No. It is not." His eyes wandered over Tony's face, marked with red streaks that looked painful.

"Yes, it is," Tony insisted through a tearful chuckle. "If I hadn't left…if I'd at least gone to see you, to-to say goodbye…"

Loki started to reach for him again. "Anthony—"

"If I wasn't such a chicken shit!" He shouted the words, slapping his hands to his face. And kept on hitting himself.

Loki stared in shock. "Stop." He grabbed for Tony's hands, pulling them from the genius' face even as he fought him. "Stop! Stop it! Anthony." Loki used all his strength to keep Tony's hands down at his sides. "Stop," he ordered softly, but firmly.

Tony finally settled against the door, pouting at Loki, his cheeks now stained with tears. Loki sighed, frowning in concern, and brushed at the drying tracks with his thumbs, then cupped Tony's face, forcing those brown eyes to focus on him.

"Listen to me. Yes. You broke me. In every way a person could hurt someone they loved. You broke my heart, my trust, my soul, even. I cannot deny that." Tony's eyes filled. "No, don't," he murmured, narrowing the distance between their bodies. "Anthony, you need to realize something. You didn't put those bottles in my hands. You didn't put those pills in my mouth. You didn't put those drugs in front of me."

Loki released Tony and brushed his fingers across his cheek, caressing him almost lovingly.

"You cannot blame yourself for my choices, darling. I am responsible for my own actions."

Tony reached up for Loki's hand before he could pull it away. "You sure? 'Cause I still feel responsible."

Loki chuckled softly. "I know you do. But you don't have to. I am absolutely sure-this is all on me. But, you know, you don't need to break down my bedroom door to show how apologetic you are."

"Shut up," Tony muttered, through a smile, before giving Loki's shirt a sharp tug, bringing his mouth down to his. Loki laughed against his lips, and before Tony could get in a proper kiss, the door they were leaning on shook as a fist banged hard against it.

"Hey!" Bucky shouted belligerently through the door. "Keep it down, wouldja? Some of us'r tryin' to fuck out here."

Tony and Loki exchanged a look, stifling laughs. He tugged Tony away from the door and pulled it open to find Steve trying to urge Bucky away and down the hall.

"Get away from—" Steve straightened and offered a smile. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Loki assured him with a grin.

Steve struggled to keep a swaying Bucky upright, who was now aiming a judging finger at Loki. "There's nothin' funny goin' on 'n there, 's there?"

"James Buchanan Barnes. That is none of your business." Steve pleaded with his eyes for Loki's patience. Crossing his arms, leaning casually against the door jamb, Loki decided to humor Bucky and play along.

"I don't know what you mean, old friend. What could possibly be going on in here that would be considered funny?"

"Loki," Steve scolded him lightly. "Don't encourage him. Come on, say good night, babe."

"G'night, babe!" Bucky shouted before collapsing into giggles against Steve's chest.

"Oh, my god," Steve muttered. "Good night, Loki." His lips curved to the side even as he nudged Bucky down the hall. "'Night, Tony."

"'Night, Rogers," he muttered from behind Loki, behind the door. When Loki glanced back, Tony was smirking.

"But, wait! I was talkin' to Loki," Bucky slurred resisting Steve's attempt to push him back into his own bedroom.

"No, you were bothering Loki. Get it straight. Time to leave them alone, you jerk."

"Make me, punk."

The pair disappeared into Bucky's room, with Bucky noticeably getting handsy with the blond. Thoroughly amused, Loki stepped back into his own room. Tony snickered and inhaled deeply, calmer now from all the crying. Loki released a soft ehehe.

"James—he's a bit of an over-friendly drunk."

Tony rubbed a finger over his eye, frowning at Loki through the open one. "It doesn't bother you? Him bringing liquor around."

Loki gave a shrug, shaking his head, and moved around Tony, back toward his bed. "We don't keep any alcohol in the apartment. And he rarely drinks to that point. I was never much of a drinker, Anthony. It was the easiest road to self-destruction I could get my hands on. That's all."

He kept his eyes down, hoping Tony wouldn't ask just how he got access to those other roads. Instead, Tony breathed in shakily, and tentatively, moved closer to the foot of the bed. "Loki…"

Loki noticed his hesitation, acknowledged his own, and looked up, raising a brow. "…Yes?" His hands were moving nervously again, Loki saw; his fingers twitching at his aides as if he was counting down the seconds.

"What do we…where do we go from here?"

Loki thought for a moment. "Where do you want to go, Anthony?"

The genius inched closer, moving his hands behind his back. His nervousness was beginning to make Loki anxious—or more anxious, rather. Unconsciously, his own hands came together in his lap, the fingers of his right hand scratching idly at his left. "I dunno," Tony mumbled. "Maybe I wanna know what you think first…"

Loki looked away, blindly studying the leafy design imprinted in his duvet. "I feel as if you've been resurrected from the dead, to be honest. I'm not sure where the jumping off point is from there."

Tony lowered to the bed, still refraining from any attempt to move close or touch Loki. What did he think Loki would do? "Um. How 'bout if we start with…a date?"

Viridian flicking up, fingers still scratching, Loki's lips curved up in a soft smirk. "A date? How junior high of you."

Tony nearly snorted, a quasi-chuckle coming out instead, and he reached over to lay his hand over Loki's moving fingers, pausing the action. "Don't be so flippant. I know this is something you always wanted."

Loki's chin lifted defiantly. "Not always."

Tony only tilted his head to the side. "Just say yes or no."

The word was there, on the tip of his tongue. Still, he was nervous to say it. It would be a step in a definite direction. It would be an admission of sorts, an acknowledgment that he was indeed open to a relationship with Tony. Frightening, really. "Are you inferring then that you'll be staying on the west coast?" Deflection was always easy.

He looked down as Tony released his hand and sighed loudly, impatiently. "Are you gonna keep stalling?"

"I am not stalling." But he did look away again. "I'm simply curious. I mean, really, tell me why I would say yes if you are only going to jet off to New York in a day or two? Or a month." He had more to say, to keep from answering the question, but whatever was on the tip of his tongue slipped away when Tony leaned in and pressed a short and sweet kiss to his lips. He stared at Tony with wide eyes, surprised, but his lips slowly started to curve.

Tony's lips curved in that boyish little grin that used to make Loki's insides twirl around. Apparently, it still had that effect. "Just answer the question, Laufeyson."

He smiled, softly, at Tony, his eyes roaming over that handsome face. "I will forget you called me that and say…yes."

Tony nodded, imperceptibly, while leaning close again. Loki watched him, eyelids lowering, humming a little as their lips came together. Tony kissed him a little longer, a little harder, and Loki was happy to let him. When Tony slid closer, and started to ease Loki down to the bed, he didn't fight or resist.

Why deny what he'd known he wanted all along?

Again, Tony didn't completely lay on him; but draped half over Loki now, he gently teased Loki's lips apart and deepened the kiss. For a moment, Loki let the strong grip on his self-control go; he relaxed against the warmth of Tony's body, shifting, rising up to mold himself against the genius' firm, compact form. He felt different, to Loki. There was more muscle pressed into him; surer hands held onto him, familiarizing themselves to the angles and contours of Loki's body. It was exciting and heady, and made his mind swim with ideas of what could happen between them.

The kisses were growing more passionate, more heated; hands were dipping into more daring places, grabbing possessively. Needing to breathe, Loki gently pushed his hands to Tony's chest and turned his mouth away

"Sorry," Tony panted.

He chuckled, running his hands up to Tony's shoulders. "Don't be." He looked up at this man that he had loved for most of his life, looking down at him, his brown eyes reflecting that feeling of love, and felt impossibly happy for once in his life. "Will you stay?" he asked quietly.

Tony nodded, brushed strands of Loki's hair back from his face. "For awhile. I'll have to head back to New York, eventually, to get my stuff sorted and packed and shipped out here."

Loki's lips twitched. "No…" Tony angled his head. "Will you stay…here…tonight?"

Tony didn't move at all for a moment, not even to blink. Then he smirked. "You want me so bad."

A groan rumbled in Loki's chest, his eyes rolling as he thumped a fist into Tony's chest. He laughed at Loki's weak attempt to hurt him. "As if you're not chomping at the bit for me."

Tony grabbed his wrist, pulling it up to his mouth to give it a playful nip. "Maybe." He laughed again at Loki's nonplussed reaction, and buried his face against Loki's neck. "I'll stay. If you really want me to. I have nowhere else to go."

"Oh no?" Because Tony couldn't see his face, Loki didn't hide his surprised and aroused expressions as he pecked and nipped at the skin of his throat. "You've a mansion in Malibu, remember?"

"Yeah," he breathed against Loki's ear. "Haven't seen it yet, remember? Besides…" Tony rolled Loki to his back, laying his weight on him, so he couldn't squirm or get away, and palmed Loki's thigh. "How else am I going to get to see this wolf you got on your thigh?" He bent his head for another kiss, jerking back as a long, pale finger pressed against his lips. "Mm. What?"

"I've a…teeny, tiny, wee request."

"Okay…" he mumbled behind Loki's finger.

Loki dropped his finger, flexed his jaw. "This may sound odd, considering, but…"

"But…?"

Loki set his eyes on Tony's. "No sex." He waited, but Tony's only reaction was to stare, so he tried to explain. "Just for…just not tonight, not yet. Let's be honest, I barely made it to sixteen before I gave in to Thor, who'd been trying for weeks to get into my pants. I doubt I'll be able to hold out for very long. And I know you won't."

Finally reacting, Tony scoffed, affronted. "You do realize you're halfway there right now, don't you?" He pointedly glanced down toward Loki's crotch.

Loki chuckled. "Regardless. I don't want this to be about just getting each other off, Anthony. We've been there; we've done that. I'm taking a risk here. We both are. Does this make any sense?"

Settling so he was straddling one of Loki's legs, Tony breathed in deep and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, it does. And I get it. I want it to be more than that, too. Surprisingly," he added with a grin, receiving one in response from Loki. "So, I guess I'll…do my best."

Loki snickered and looped his arms around Tony's neck. "Should I sleep fully clothed?"

A brow lifted over a laughing a brown eye. "You think that's gonna stop either of us? Do you even remember that night I woke up from a dead sleep with you grinding on top of me?"

Loki laughed, hard, enough to shake the bed. "In my defense, I was unaware I was doing that. Technically, I was sleepwalking."

"You were sleep-fucking." He settled more on top of Loki, nipping at his chin, the corner of his mouth. "Are you sure about this?"

His fingers were in Tony's hair, encouraging him, and marveling at the softness of it. His lips curved in a lazy, pleased smile. "Which part?"

"All of it," Tony mumbled against his skin. "Letting me back in. Letting me stay." He raised his head, and curled his lip in mock disgust. "No sex? Really?"

Loki breathed a soft chuckle. "Do you want the truth?"

"Shit. Do I?"

Nodding, Loki gave Tony's chest a pat, signaling that he needed to sit up. Tony moved off of him, and Loki pulled himself up to a sitting position, thoughtfully swiping a hand over his mouth and chin once he had. "The thing is…I am about eighty-five percent sure that I will get a talking to from someone or another, questioning my sanity, about this."

"By someone or another you mean Bucky and Romanov."

A soft, affectionate smile. "I am also one hundred percent sure that I don't give a damn what they think." Tony barked out a laugh, but he quieted when Loki laid a hand over his on the bed. "This is my life, Anthony. And I happen to believe that you just might be worth the risk."

Tony gave his fingers a squeeze. "I hope I am. At least, I want to be. I don't want to miss out on another ten years of having you in my life, Loki. I know it might be weird at first, but…we are different people now. So…maybe it won't be too bad."

Surprising even himself, Loki, pushed up to his knees, and casually crawled into Tony's lap, as if it was something he did all the time. Straddling the genius now, he let his hands come to rest at Tony's shoulders, encircling his neck. "It's a fresh start, darling. For us both. A new chapter in the book of our lives."

Tony tilted his head back to look up at him, his arms sliding around his slim waist. "A blank page?"

Loki nodded, and lowered his mouth to Tony's. He kissed him softly, a hint of hesitation remaining, but once Tony's arms tightened around him, and his hands were gliding up his back and pushing him closer by the shoulder blades, Loki relaxed. And increased the pressure to Tony's mouth. He grinned, lifting his mouth slowly, after Tony emitted a soft groan.

"You're sure about that sex part, huh?"

"For now," Loki affirmed with a nod and a laugh. "Perhaps we should sleep fully clothed, after all. On top of the covers. Just for tonight."

Tony groaned again, in a rather un-sexy manner this time, and Loki climbed off of him. Alone, and lap empty now, Tony fell face first to the bed. "You're killing me, Loki," he yelled into the duvet.

"It might serve you well to learn the art of delayed gratification, Anthony." He turned the light off, casting the room into semi-darkness.

"Rude." Tony's disembodied voice was much clearer now, telling Loki he'd at least lifted his head. He laughed at Tony's response, and crossed back over to the bed, searching for, and quickly locating, a cord hidden behind the bed. Flicking the switch with his thumb, a string of white lights flickered on. Strung high above his bed, they gave his room a soft, dim illumination. "Oh…nice," Tony murmured, pushing up to rest on his elbow. He turned his eyes, dark and piercing, up to Loki, and it made his stomach do a nervous flip.

Battling those pesky little nerves, Loki stepped out of his shoes, and stretched out on the bed, on his side. Tony reached out to touch the back of his finger to his cheek. "Lay down," he croaked out, patting a hand to the spot beside him.

Tony kicked off his own tennis shoes, and shifted around until he could finally settle beside Loki. They laid there, on top of the duvet, facing each other for several silent moments. Tony reached over to tug Loki's hand from under his pillow and curled his fingers around his, and Loki's deep, scratchy voice broke into the quiet.

"In case I hadn't said so, or it wasn't clear…I am happy to see you."

Tony grinned lopsidedly. "Nice to be seen," he murmured back, making Loki chuckle.

They talked, at length, of everything and anything, until eventually, the sky began to lighten. Loki spoke of his sobriety, of his few relapses, and of his daily struggle to keep clean. Tony confessed that he initially thought the abduction was a friendly prank by his friend Rhodey; and how he contemplated suicide a number of times in the cave, and since his return. And that the post-traumatic stress was doing a number on him.

Tony asked about Bucky's stint in the Army and why he left, and what Loki's plans were, after Bucky inevitably moved out to start his life with Steve. Loki wasn't too forthcoming, nor was he willing to set anything in stone, for now.

They laughed together, shushed each other, so as not to wake Steve and Bucky, and even shed more than a few tears. Slowly, they gravitated closer and closer, and eased into affectionate touches to the face, the chest, hands…everywhere-above the waist. Tony toyed with the ends of Loki's hair; Loki rubbed is fingers against Tony's bearded chin.

By the time Loki heard the birds outside his window beginning to chirp, and the quiet movements of eternally early riser Steve, he watched as Tony's eyes grew heavier and heavier, and eventually, closed. Leaning in closer, Loki brushed his nose against Tony's, grinning softly when the genius instinctively lifted his mouth for a kiss. Loki obliged, pressing his lips lightly to Tony's until he was sure he had fallen asleep.

Imagining this must have been the first restful sleep Tony had had in some time, it gave Loki comfort to watch him sleeping so peacefully. And when Tony shifted, pulling him closer, and burrowing into him, Loki didn't shake him off. He didn't even feel a sense of discomfort.

Content for the first time in ten long years, Loki curled himself around Tony, and slipped into a deep sleep himself.

A decade apart, and an exhausting night, did nothing to quell their basic need and attraction for each other. At some point during the early morning, mouths were sought, clothes were lost, and bodies moved, glided together, in tandem. And when they woke in the late afternoon light, a tangle of limbs and sheets, the scent of sex lingering in the air, there were no regrets to be had.