(closed)

[ikols]

who: loki & tony (616s)
what: tony has woken up from his coma and pays the godling a visit.
when: forward-dated to whenever essie wishes eyy.
where: the sanctum sanctorum.
warnings: tba

[ Stephen's home has undergone a hefty restoration and now, with mostly everything but the superficial work done, the halls echo properly without holes in them (not to mention the ceiling) and the voice of one godling carries melodically through the arched corridors as he crosses the threshold after an afternoon of pillaging temples. A small sack of knick-knacks over his shoulder, Loki swivels his way through the front-door, slamming it on heels that shuffle-dance their way through the ground-floor toward his bedroom, silvertongue-touched lyrics ringing out clear as a bell.

Soul buyer, spitting fire, only your touch gonna get me wild, say I'm not a sinner but you make me a LIII-AAA-YAAAR! I like them games we play when you're inside my veins! No, a little good don't stop the devil! If I go up in flames, then just put me away! 'Cause a little good don't stop the devil!

The obnoxious song is half because he thoroughly enjoys it and also to annoy the former Sorcerer Supreme if Stephen is trying to have a quiet day in. One of Loki's bedroom doors is kicked open as he dances his way inside, headphones still firmly in place so that his groove isn't interrupted, scooting around furniture.

Hel-bent, left again, ain't coming back till gods know when! Oh yeah, I'll be damned, gonna make a deal with a backdoor man! Soul buyer, spitting fire, only your touch gonna get me wild, never was a sinner till you set me on FIII-EEE-YAAAR!

Horns and a shadowthread coat are thrown onto his bed as Freyja the snake peeps over the glass of her tank to see what all the noise is about. Anything she hisses about the person loitering near the entrance of the bedroom is drowned out by Loki's hooting as he tosses artefacts from furtive raids into boxes and onto shelves, sorting out his haul.

In his defence, it's not the most embarrassing song on his phone and he's not the poorest dancer. ]

Comments

[ikols]

[ Any pretence of disinterest is scoured away when Tony starts talking about the one thing that drove Loki to a week-long bender, morose and miserable and confused over whether he was the one that made Tony slip up in the lab out of upset ... and without good reason, it turns out. He wasn't entirely the root cause of Tony's fear that day which is a massive relief to know, even though he still harbours guilt for pushing him to that point under any circumstances. Staring intently, he swallows to combat the dryness in his throat, keeping his nerves steady and fists balled on his lap where he kneels before Tony, watching the way the man folds like origami. Uncertain whether he ought to reach out and console him and choosing the safer option of not.

I would never use you. I hated Rogers and would have done anything to make him give a shit about how much he hurt me. I'm tired of trying to be constantly beloved, someone I'm not. ]

I'm sorry.

[ That's all that really matters. His voice is soft, unargumentative. Uncharacteristic, because otherwise there will only be another fight and Tony needs his rest when Loki isn't perfect enough for him. ]

[amelioraate]

[ it is the way that Loki apologizes, sincere and without any attachments to the sentiment, that makes Tony look away from the in between and actually look at Loki. his eyes sharpen, focus, on Loki and he takes the moment to really look at the god; see the lines and edges, the tension in his shoulders and the lines around his eyes, the way he seems awkward in his own skin (Tony made him like that) and unsure of what to do. it is so very different from the boisterous and lively Loki that he had come to know.

he also notices how the godling keeps the space between them, how it makes something twist in his gut.]

You don't-- [ another sigh, heavy and laden with all the things he isn't saying. ] Thank you. I don't blame you for the freaking out though, know that. Or... well, the lab.

[ it's a blind stab, but he has the feeling that the godling doesn't see himself blameless in that event. and while Tony was tired and not in the best place mentally and emotionally, it was his own fault for being there, no one elses.]

[ikols]

[ Tony's eyes flicker up and Loki's shy down, evasive in hiding the twitch at the corners when he recalls the stale taste of alcohol and the numbness he needed to keep his nerves in check at the thought of having contributed to Tony's accident. To a possible death, a living nothingness in a bed from which it seemed he would not awaken.

Biting his lip, he blurts out with determined emphasis, ] I'm still sorry.

[ He opens his mouth to speak more but a strangled gurgle is all he manages, lashes spiked and damp as he ducks his head further to hide his upset, chewing his lips in order to stop a slew of words he will regret at some point. ]

I'm sorry.

[amelioraate]

[ there is something in the way that Loki reiterates it, like he doesn't think that Tony believes him. like he doesn't hear that there is actual feeling in the words that are shaking between them. there is so much more beneath those words, so simple and easily spoken, but honest. from the lips of the god of lies to Tony's heart, aching in his chest.

he knows that Loki is sorry, he doesn't doubt that.

but it doesn't change how things played out, how he is still raw around the edges, a little bruised still in his softest spots.

for a moment, he doesn't say anything, watches as Loki crumples in on himself a little more before, with a quick breath, he moves forward to pull Loki into a hug. it is for comfort. acceptance. I am sorry and you're forgiven in the movement. Tony isn't willing to forget, not for a while, but there is also more here than either of them are clear on. pressing his cheek to the top of Loki's crown, he settles a bit, and when he speaks he sounds steadier than he has in a while.]

I know you are sorry, Lokes. I don't doubt you. But it also doesn't just make everything else go away. That's gonna take time.

[ he tightens his hold, pulls back a little, a seriousness to his face that he hasn't had around the god of lies for a long while. ] I'm gonna need time, okay?

[ikols]

[ A stifled sob lodges in the pit of his throat and he grows silent after that, twitching in the unexpected embrace as he keeps his arms to himself, letting Tony do the holding. It would be the worst thing in all the worlds to scare him off again, for any reason. ]

Okay.

[ He can't hide his wet cheeks when he peers back at Tony, ensnared and unwilling to be the first to leave. All he can do is nod ... and swallow a hitched breath, pushing out some tense words before his meagre courage fails. ]

When you're ready, make another picnic. Then I'll know you want me.

[ That was the last time he felt happy with the way they were. ]