This is my first fanfic on here, so please go easy on me. I'm really hoping this will turn into something good, and I've got a lot of plans. I'd appreciate any feedback, but just sit back and enjoy reading.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, they all belong to Marvel. Only the plot line and content is my own.

Music was blaring from the speakers (Black Sabbath), designs were projected all over the room, and Tony Stark was making the latest adjustments to his Iron Man suit.

"Dummy, bring me that screwdriver," the genius ordered, not taking his eyes off his plan. There was the familiar whir of Dummy, and the screwdriver was placed next to Tony's hand.

For several more minutes, Tony continued in his work, head bent over his suit in concentration.

"Sir, there is someone at the front door," Jarvis' voice rang out, causing Tony to jump, dropping his screwdriver on his foot.

"Shit, Jarvis. You could have cleared your throat or something," he yelled, foot throbbing. "Anyway, I didn't even know we had a front door," Tony was so used to either having Pepper invite people in or they just came in like they owned the place. It appeared Fury had somehow overrode Jarvis' commands not to allow people in straight away.

"Sir, I'm afraid to say that would be impossible, and when Stark Towers was designed, there was a front door."

Somehow, Tony found his way to the previously non-existent (at least in his mind) front door, with the assistance of Jarvis. Sometimes, it scared Tony how reliant he was on his AI.

When he opened the door, he found nothing, other than a steady rain pouring down. "Hello?" he called out, glancing around.

No answer.

"Is anyone actually out here? It's 11 pm, and I've got better things to do than stand out in the rain."

A figure finally moved out from behind the corner, and Tony squinted to make out who it was.

A familiar voice rang out from underneath a hood. "Good evening, Stark."

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just thought I'd drop in, see how things were going," Loki said, stepping into the light.

Tony just snorted. "Why are you really here?"

"Due to some unfortunate cicumstances, I've contracted some sort of mortal ailment."

"That still doesn't explain why you're here."

"Insolent as ever, I see," Loki sneered. "I thought it would have been obvious, especially to a 'genius' like you."

Tony hated how condescending Loki was. Everything about him just radiated smugness, and it irked Tony to no end.

"Listen, Reindeer Games. If you're here to fuck with me, the you can get lost. You either tell me what the name of god you're doing here, or you go away," Tony's patience was wearing thin. It was cold, the rain was coming down heavily, and he wasn't in the mood to deal with Loki's shit.

"I came because I thought if any mortal could inform me what I'm suffering from, it would be you."

"Oh," Tony hadn't been expecting this. Loki was... complimenting him. Well, sort of. Tony just took it as a compliment. His ego could never get too big, despite what Pepper and Fury might say.

"Flattery gets you no where," Tony smirked, leaning against the door frame. If Loki wanted to start off being annoyingly indirect, Tony was very happy to play along.

"Stark, I swear, if you don't let me in, I will force my way in," Loki growled, despite the hoarseness in his voice.

"Bossy much?" Tony grumbled, moving aside. He'd rather just let Loki in than have his house destroyed.

Once Loki was inside, he seemed unsure on what do to with himself. He stood, staring at Tony.

"Well this is sufficiently awkward," Tony said, breaking the silence.

"What's wrong with me?"

"Aside from the fact you're a crazy phsycopath? How am I supposed to know? To be honest, you don't even seem that sick. But you've been here for all of about 5 minutes" Tony rolled his eyes. "Not that I even want you here."

Loki snarled, glaring.

"Sorry, were you expecting me to bow down and tell you how honoured I am you came to me, a mere mortal, to assist you?" Tony replied sarcastically. He wouldn't be surprised if that was exactly what Loki was expecting.

"Stark, you are insufferable as ever. I'm here because I need a place to recover. Despite the fact that this in no way lives up to Asgard, you chose a pleasant place to live. You will help me."

"Why should I? I mean, you've done nothing to help me. You threw me out a goddamn window."

"Again with the window. Are you ever going to let that go?"

Tony didn't answer. Part of him - the more responsible side - was telling him not to trust Loki, and to send him away. The other, more dominant, part of him was saying to just go along with it. Might find out something useful. Screw it, Tony thought to himself. He wasn't famed for his resbonsibility.

"Fine. You can stay here, but under one condition. You don't destroy anything in this place."

Tony set off walking, not bothering to check if Loki was behind him. He stopped outside one of the many bedrooms, gesturing towards the room. It was large, spacious, and had glass panels lining the walls, showing a view of the city sprawled below. "You can stay in here. There's a bathroom in there, the kitchen's down the hall, to your left, and don't disturb me in my workshop. I think that's it."

"Thank you, Stark," Loki forced out stiffly, before a hacking cough came over him.

"No problem," Tony muttered, leaving Loki to sort himself out.

"I need a drink," Tony said, more to himself than anyone else. After what just happened, he felt like he deserved it. Without thinking about it, he was standing at his familiar bar. Tony grabbed a glass and poured out a healthy measure of whiskey.

"Jarvis, what's Loki doing?" he asked, just to make sure the God wasn't doing something that could result in damage to either Tony or the building.

"Loki's looking around the bedroom you allocated him, sir."

Tony nodded, draining his glass.

After 4 glasses, there was a pleasant fog in the back of Tony's mind. The thoughts that he'd been trying to avoid crept into his mind. What was he doing? Loki was his enemy, and a dangerous one at that. Almost everything the Avengers had to deal with these days were because of Loki. Tony wondered what his team would have to say about this, but pushed the though away. That was something he could deal with in the future, hopefully the very distant future.

At some point, Loki came and joined Tony.

"Finding everything to your satisfaction, your majesty?" Tony slurred. It crossed his mind that the last time he'd stood in this room with Loki, the God had tossed him out his own window.

"I see the fact you're intoxicated doesn't affect your sarcasm," Loki observed dryly.

"Oh how very clever of you to notice. I can only dream of having your intelligence."

Loki chose to ignore Tony's comment, instead eyeing the bottle of whiskey.

"Have some if you want. It helps with stress," Tony slid a glass along the surface, watching as it came to rest next to Loki's hand.

"I don't drink," he replied stiffly.

"Come on! One glass never hurt anyone."

"Fine," muttered Loki, grudgingly pouring himself a glass. He sipped hesitantly. There was an unpleasant burning sensation as the amber liquid trickles down his throat.

Being drunk was not a feeling that he enjoyed, but if it distracted himself from his sickness, Loki had no qualms with a couple of glasses.

"So, how long have you been sick for?" Tony asked.

"A week, possibly more," Loki coughed again, and Tony noticed he was even paler than usual, something that previously, he hadn't thought possible.

The two drunk in silence for a while, the occasional cough or sneeze coming from Loki.

"For heaven's sake, just use a tissue!" Tony exclaimed in exasperation as Loki sniffled for what felt like the millionth time.

"Your sympathy is heartwarming," said Loki, sarcasm dripping from his voice. When he made no move to get a tissue, Tony strode over to a drawer, pulling out a box of tissues.

"Here," he growled, shoving them towards Loki.

"Right then. I'm off to bed," Tony announced, leaving his glass on the side and walking over to the doorway. "Do whatever you want, I don't care. Just don't kill anyone or do any of your usual crazy shit."

Loki just blew his nose and glared at Tony.

"Fucking gods," the man muttered, walking away.