I am so sorry for how long this took. Life kicked my ass; hospitalised, temporarily partially paralysed, and six weeks on fore-arm crutches, it has been a very shitty few months. BUT! Avengers ( I haven't seen it yet, it's sold out till next week) and a nice review from Nuitari Aquarius have inspired me.

Also, did anyone notice I changed categories? :'D

From this point on, I'm offering a LokiTony one shot for every hundred reviews achieved.

Chapter Five: Humorless Laughter

"You're making pancakes."

Tony damn near jumped out of his skin. Loki's quiet voice was followed by Loki; the trickster slid out of the shadows beneath the stairs, pale face stony, mouth pressed into a tight line.

"Uhh, sure?" Tony twisted around to follow him, momentarily thrown. Loki had been chipper, happy even, for the last few days. Suddenly he was all doom and gloom again. And- Stark leaned to the side, spying something dark on Loki's hand. The god caught his look, and tugged the cuff of his sweater down further, glaring at him.

"Pancakes." He repeated, and if Tony hadn't been worried, he would have observed how childish the god was acting. Not in a ... well, childish way. In the same way Pepper's young niece did, when her brother took something from her. Small, hurt... Betrayed. It had been so long since he'd seen Loki look so weirdly vulnerable.

"... Okay. Pancakes it is. Any requests?" he forced a smile, moving as if to open the kitchen island's cupboard. When Loki turned to grab a stool, Tony snaked out an arm, grabbing the Trickster's wrist. Loki's green gaze snapped up, bright with venom, but he didn't pull back. Tony took it as permission to tug back the cuff of his green sweater, frowning at the dark blotches of bruises over his knuckles. He skated his thumb over the inflamed skin, hovering over the bloody scabs that closed his split knuckles.

He fixed Loki with a look.

"Punch Thor again?" he asked, voice artificially light.

Loki returned his look with a bitch-face, finally yanking his hand away. Tony let him go, returning to his pancake preparation. Chocolate chips, blueberries, milk, a box of pancake mix (he tried making them from scratch, but Loki had demanded the other ones.) and finally, a frozen bag of peas. Loki frowned at them when Tony thrust the bag towards him. He rolled his eyes, wiggling the frozen vegetables at him until Loki rolled his eyes and grabbed it.

"For your hand," Came the belated explanation.

Loki's brows went up, then came down again in a scowl, but he snagged a dish towel and wrapped the peas in it, resting his hand on top. Tony didn't miss the flinch, but chose not to comment, instead dumping ingredients into a bowl. The fork scraped along the glass as he stirred, both of them not looking at the other.

"A wall." Loki spoke after several minutes of silence.

Tony arched a brow. Where they having a conversation?" Come again?"

"I punched a wall."

Oooh, right. Apparently they were.

He stirred the pancakes a few more times, then set the set down the bowl, leaning a hip on the counter to give Loki another look.

"And you were punching holes in my walls... why?"

Yet another bitch-face. Loki poked the bag of peas with his free hand, lips twitching as if he wanted to smile, rather than scowl.

Tony got half way through the pancakes before Loki answered.

"I was frustrated." As explanations went, it wasn't a good one. Tony's face must have said as much, because Loki rolled his eyes, sighing gustily before dropping his chin onto his uninjured hand.

"I... am not used to being weak." His face twisted as he spoke, like the words had a bitter taste, but he was reluctant to speak them. Loki met his eyes, green gaze trepid. His eyes darted away, wandering over the kitchen cupboards, the fridge, then the windows.

"I hate being mortal. You're all so frail." He muttered to the sunshine.

Tony's eyebrows crawled up his face. Well that was different. He wasn't sure what he had expected- Okay, that's a lie, he knew exactly what he had expected. Snark. Sarcasm. Something with a bit of bite behind it. Not this weird forlornness, the strange vulnerability.

Tony flicked off the gas, moving the frying pan off the heat, and flipped a couple of pancakes onto two plates, drizzling syrup over one, and soaking the other in it. Forks and knives went down beside it, then it went in front Loki. Tony dragged a stool over form the breakfast bar, and sat across from him.

"Okay. So you're injured, and you hate it. Well." He cut himself a piece of pancake, popping it in his mouth and chewed pointedly, staring at Loki. He kept staring, unblinkingly, until the god took a bite.

Pancakes seemed to sooth Loki's rumpled feathers; he ate like a petulant eight year old, cutting noisily against the plate, knife scraping against the plate in the most aggravating manner possible. But Tony let it go, because Loki needed to be pissed, and angry so he didn't need to feel weak and vulnerable.

They ate in silence, and after they were done Tony took Loki to get something other then that ugly green sweater that Pepper had found in some closet somewhere. Because honestly; walking cast or not, clothes made everyone feel better.

"No, not that one."

Loki cast him a sharp look, fingering the green shirt. "Why not?"

"Because you'll look like you belong to the Slytherin house at Hogwarts."

"I was around before Harry Potter." The god's tone was arrogant, but there was a smile playing around the edges of his mouth. Tony bumped his arm, grinning.

"something less silver gold and green. Why not... blue."

There. Blue shirt spotted. Tony made a B-line through the clothing racks, lifting it with a triumphant smile. "This," he informed the bemused immortal, "Is what you are getting. And you will put it on. And then I will buy you ice cream."

Loki snagged the shirt, limping past him. "Double scoop gelato. With a waffle cone. And sprinkles."

"Deal."

Tony leaned against the wall length mirror, hands in his pockets, sunglasses on so he could watch people in that creepy, solid-sunglasses-so-you-can't-see-their-eyes way. He tossed a few more shirts at the trickster god, other colours (like white. And black. Honestly, his obsession with green was absurd. Although, it did look good on him. No. Bad Tony. Bad.)

"I am... surprised."

Tony jerked off the wall, spinning towards Loki in as guilty a manner as possible (it wasn't like he did that on purpose, or anything. Just. You know.)

...

He brain might have shorted. Tony remembered after half a minute he was suppose to be saying something.

"...Damn."

Bad Tony, bad!

He was so screwed.

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