AN: I cannot believe that I actually finished this. I want to thank Greenloki who read every chapter for me, fixing mistakes and generally sticking by my side during this story. Then again, it was her birthday-story ... She asked for something light and fluffy, and this is what she got. Sorry, girl! To everyone else who read this story and/or left a review, thank you! I'm glad you guys enjoyed the ride.

The Lover That Went Wrong

- Chapter Eleven -

The room was well lit, sunlight streaming in through the opened curtains, but that didn't prevent the small boy lying in the crib from sleeping like … well … a baby. Tony couldn't tear his gaze away from him, couldn't stop looking at his tiny hands, his small nose or his adorable little ears. He had pale skin and raven hair, just like his mother – or should he call Loki his father? Tony still hadn't figured out those details and, actually, he didn't feel like he wanted to either.

Fredric's little hand twitched, his tiny fingers gripping his soft green sheet tightly. His dark eyes – more chocolate brown than emerald green in Tony's opinion, but babies' eye color tended to change later on – fluttered open, only to instantly close again, the boy falling right back asleep, looking content and calm. It was a sight that made Tony smile, but also one that made him wonder if he would ever be able to leave his son – his son, it was still such a strange notion, but he was quickly adjusting to it– out of his sight after everything that had happened, after everything SHIELD had put them through.

"Tony?"

Tony's heart skipped a beat and he nearly let out a surprised yell – thank God he didn't, because the last thing he wanted was to wake Fredric – when he heard the soft, female voice. Spinning around, he found Pepper standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, her light blue eyes kind and warm, her entire composure relaxed. She smiled when her gaze locked with Tony's.

"Hi there," Tony greeted her with a smile of his own. He walked toward her and then walked with her down the hall and into the kitchen. "You startled me," he said even though he knew it was redundant information. Pepper had known him for years already and she knew perfectly well when he'd been taken off guard.

"I know," Pepper grinned cheekily while she lifted a bundle of papers she'd been carrying around under her arm, wanting Tony to take them – which he did with a frown on his face. "I've collected a few files for you to shift through."

"Files?" Tony couldn't help but ask. He flipped through the collection, finding that a photo had been added to each case, showing mostly young women, some older women and a few young men, too. He truly had no clue what he'd just been handed, and he quickly realized that this was exactly why he hated being handed things in the first place.

"I made a preliminary selection," Pepper continued, not spotting Tony's confusion since his head was turned down, his gaze fixed on the papers, "I think these men and women have the best résumés."

"As what? Supermodels?" Tony asked, looking back up to meet Pepper's gaze.

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Nannies, Tony."

Tony's eyes widened, his eyebrows rising a bit. His hands clenched tightly around the papers. He wouldn't say that hearing that word – nannies – made his chest feel painfully tight, but it did leave him with a surprisingly uneasy feeling.

"You need to hire a nanny for Fredric."

It should have been like a dream coming true or something; hiring a nanny – a hot one – watching her work with a shirt that revealed way too much cleavage, seducing her, doing her on the couch, wasn't that every guy's wet dream? Really, it was a scenario that covered about ten percent of porn-movies, yet now the idea made Tony feel … restless. Another person looking after his son? It was a thought that didn't sit well.

"Fredric doesn't need a nanny," he said, aware of that sharp edge to his voice, and if Pepper noticed it, she didn't react to it. "I'm going to raise him. He's my son, my responsibility."

Pepper, her kind and friendly smile unwavering, folded her hands before her stomach. Tony could tell she'd wanted to reach out to him, touch his shoulder perhaps. The fact that she didn't warned him that he wouldn't like what she had to say next. "You can't lead a multimillion dollar company and be a fulltime father. There are meetings you need to attend, blueprints you need to work on, business-trips you have to-"

"He'll be here," Tony snapped before quickly pressing his lips together and biting down on his tongue, refusing to have such another outburst. He watched Pepper's gaze turn almost sorrowful and that was exactly what he didn't want to see. He wanted no-one's pity and he certainly didn't want to be confronted with their doubt. Having to face his own was hard enough.

"I know what you're thinking," he said when he knew Pepper wouldn't break the silence, "he was shot and it looked bad, but it's only been two weeks. He'll come back when he's fully recovered. Thor gave me his word and that actually means something to Asgardians."

"I don't doubt he'll return," Pepper replied. Ha, as if! Tony sighed heavily and looked away from her for a moment, not wanting to look her in the eye as she was lying to him. "But that doesn't change the fact that you're going to need a nanny. Please, Tony, just look through the files and see if there is someone you like."

Grudgingly, he placed the papers on the counter, staring down at them. "Fine," he sighed, and when he glanced up at Pepper again, he found that she looked pleased and happy – exactly how he preferred her, because after everything, after all the shit he put her through already, she was still there for him and she was still his friend. He would do anything to make her happy. "But only because I'm doing you a favor," he added, amused, already feeling better about the situation.

"I know," Pepper said, nodding enthusiastically. She took a step forward and placed a hand to the side of his arm and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, Tony."

-/-

"This better work, Stark."

Natasha had the lovely ability to sound dangerous over the intercom and, honestly, Tony didn't know how she did it. The tone of her voice was just so sharp and it made him hope extra hard that his device was finally fully operational. Otherwise, they would be in somewhat of a pickle and, as always, he'd get blamed for everything.

"It'll work," He said, sounding confident because like fuck was he going to let his fellow Avengers – minus Banner, Rogers and Odinson, so really, the group had slimmed down a bit – hear his nervousness. It wasn't so much that he feared the god-stunner wouldn't work because he was always confident in his own designs, but the idea of Amora getting her spidery hands on them was not something Tony liked to entertain.

"She's been spotted four blocks to the east," Barton said.

Tony pulled up a map inside the mask of his suit, telling Jarvis to keep a lock on Amora at all times. On the other hand, it wasn't that hard to track her. Really, he just had to follow the trail of smoke and he'd find her at the end. Amora had a love for setting buildings on fire after all. It made it easier for Tony to understand why Loki liked her so much. Not that he liked her anymore. Tony couldn't help but feel a painful sting of jealousy to his chest.

Taking to the sky, he flew to where the Asgardian woman supposedly was, and yep, there she was, wrecking her way through the city since, apparently, she was pissed off that her partner had abandoned her right before they were going to make the world kneel before them. It was rather sad. And pathetic. Mostly pathetic. Tony hated her with all of his guts.

"Don't miss," Natasha said, her voice echoing through Tony's suit.

Tony rolled his eyes. "If you want to take her out yourself, feel free," He said. He would have snapped at her, but then Natasha would kick his ass when he'd get back to his tower and Tony didn't plan on surviving an encounter with Amora only to be killed by Natasha ten minutes later. "I have a lock on her," He announced, making sure Natasha didn't have a chance to reply to his comment, "Now if she'd just stand still long enough–"

"She's not gonna stand still long enough, Stark," Came Barton's amused voice, "Just hit her with a dose already."

"And what if I hit a bystander?" Tony retorted, and would you look at that? Somehow he'd developed a sense of conscientiousness. He blamed Rogers for that. He blamed Rogers for everything lately. It was fun.

"Then whoever you hit will sleep gloriously well for a few days," Barton said.

"Yes," Tony replied dryly, "And I'll be slapped around the ears with a lawsuit." His gaze remained focused on Amora – Amora who spotted him, her features contorting in a vicious scowl. "Crap," He muttered.

"Good luck," Natasha said.

Tony quickly darted aside in the air as Amora sent a bolt of green fire toward him and, really, Tony couldn't believe she was still using that same cheap trick. He made a mental note to start working on an anti-magic weapon next.

Lifting a hand, he aimed the god-stunner at her and fired.

He missed.

And yeah, he'd definitely get sued.

"A gun?" Amora laughed. Tony despised the sound. It made the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "If you think a gun will stop me, then I must inform you that you are in for a surprise."

Tony dropped a few feet from the air, hoping that a closer distance would make it easier to actually hit her. "You do love the sound of your own voice, don't you?" He asked. It earned him a sharp smile in return. "It's okay, I understand. I love my own voice, too." Without hesitating, without as much as blinking, he fired the god-stunner a second time and hoped with all his heart and soul that he would hit her.

He did.

Amora stumbled back, her brows furrowing at the odd sensation that was most likely coursing through her body right now. Tony couldn't know. He never did get around to testing the weapon on an actual Asgardian, what with Thor having left so suddenly to take his heavily wounded – not dying – brother back to the golden city in space. In any case, the weapon wasn't calibrated perfectly it seemed because while Amora looked in pain and her limbs began to tremble, she remained standing.

Tony simply shot her again.

Amora's pale green eyes widened before rolling back into her head and then she fell down, her body seemingly nothing more than a ragged doll.

Tony carefully landed beside her, keeping the god-stunner aimed at her face, fully prepared to dose her a third time, but Amora didn't move anymore, her eyes closed, her body twisted in a rather awkward angle, but like hell did he care.

"Guys," He said through the intercom, the face-plate of his suit falling back, "I think she's out cold."

"Great job," Barton said, "You want a golden sticker now?"

"Ha-ha, you are so fucking hilarious, Barton," Tony bit back. He squatted down and ordered Jarvis to run a fully body scan. It revealed that Amora was in a temporary state of unconsciousness which would last perhaps half a day or a day if they were lucky.

He thanked Jarvis as he stood again and then without blinking, he shot her again.

Jarvis noted she'd be out for at least thirty hours now.

"Sweet," Tony noted.

-/-

When Tony entered the living room after having taken a long, hot shower, he found Pepper was pacing the floor, one hand clasped tightly around her cell-phone while a little bundle laid in her other arm. "That would be great," She said to whoever was on the other end of the line.

Tony didn't think it was a business-associate. No, Pepper sounded too kind for that. He finished drying his hair before carelessly tossing the towel onto the couch as he passed it, and then walked up to her and carefully lifted the small bundle from her arms. A small cry came from the small boy, but Tony quickly rocked him and the boy fell still, his wide brown eyes locking with his father's.

"Hi, there," Tony smiled down at him.

"Yes, tomorrow at eight. He'll be here to greet you," Pepper said. Tony looked up at her, but she wasn't looking at him. Whatever she was talking about, though, Tony didn't think he would like it. While he didn't think she was talking to a business-partner, it still sounded like work. "Perfect. I will see you then."

"What's that about?" He asked as soon as Pepper ended the call and turned around to face him with a delighted smile on her face.

"The nanny," Pepper answered. Her gaze locked with Tony's – Tony who had to suppress the urge to groan. "Which you oh so conveniently forgot about."

"Right, the nanny," He muttered. Fredric made a small sound and Tony cast his eyes down to his son again. The idea of handing him over to a stranger made his stomach churn uncomfortably and, really, he wasn't being overprotective or anything – maybe he was, but he believed he had good reason to be. "I told you, Pepper, we don't need a nanny."

"I can't babysit him every time you go off fighting a villain or saving the world," Pepper replied, "I'm practically leading Stark Industries, Tony, and–"

"–and for that I will be eternally grateful," Tony finished. It earned him a pointed look.

"The nanny will be here tomorrow at eight as you've well heard," Pepper simply continued, "Promise me you'll be here to greet her, Tony, to give her a tour of the penthouse and show her where everything is."

Fredric gave out another small cry and Tony cradled him a little closer to his chest. It still felt a bit awkward to be holding such a small and fragile creature, and sometimes Tony still couldn't believe that the little guy was completely dependent on him, but the idea that he had a son now sounded like the most logical thought in the world. Of course he had a son!

"Has she been screened?" He asked after a short silence.

Pepper pressed her lips together while her hands, which she had folded before her stomach, became tense, her knuckles turning white. It was enough to fill Tony with a new sense of dread.

"What?" He asked, eyes having gone wide, his grip on Fredric tightening just a little bit more.

"Natasha used the SHIELD-database," She explained and, really, she looked guilty, like she had just confessed to being a traitor and, for one brief moment, Tony felt like she had indeed betrayed him, but this was Pepper and he trusted her with his life. He dared to say he trusted her with Fredric's life, but this … this he could hardly believe.

"The SHIELD-database?" He echoed in disbelief, his voice just a bit too loud and too high. "Pepper, you know SHIELD can't be trusted."

"But Natasha can be," Pepper replied resolutely, "Now stop being so stubborn about it." She stepped closer to him and placed a kind hand to his shoulder, her features softening as she smiled. "I picked the best one, Tony. Fredric will be in good hands whenever you're off doing your duties."

Tony exhaled slowly, his gaze trained on his son. He imagined himself handing him over to a stranger which was an image he knew he shouldn't dwell on too long. He'd never thought he'd become so dependent on the boy too. "Fine," He conceded, "I'll be here tomorrow."

Pepper's smile broadened. "Thank you, Tony."

-/-

For once, the city was almost quiet beneath him. A few cars honked in the distance, the sound of busses and trains carried through the air, but that was about it. Then again, it was well past midnight – early morning some would say – and sometimes even the great city of New York became calmer for a while. Tony enjoyed standing out on the balcony of his penthouse, leaning with his elbows on the railing, a glass of his best whiskey in hand.

For one brief moment he dared to feel content. No villains were trying to burn down any buildings, no-one was trying to subjugate the world, and SHIELD wasn't trying to kidnap his son or something along those lines. Things were good, but Tony still felt restless. He couldn't help but glance up at the dark sky, hoping to see the familiar rays of the Bifrost landing on his world, but everything stayed dark – or as dark as everything could be in the middle of a city like New York.

"You should quit drinking."

He nearly died of a heart-attack. With wide and bewildered eyes, not having expected another human being to be up at this indecent time of the night, he turned around to find Clint Barton walking onto the balcony, his face smug when he spotted Tony's unsettled gaze.

"And why should I do that?" He asked, relaxing again. He turned back to the skyline and took a sip from the whiskey. "Do you even know what I'm drinking?"

Clint came to stand next to him, elbows leaning on the railing as well. "Probably some over-expensive whiskey."

"Exactly."

"All the more reason to quit," Clint said. His gaze fell on Tony for a moment, taking him in, and Tony squirmed a little, not liking the way Clint was staring at him and not liking what the guy would have to say – because he looked like he had something to say. "Half of your liver is already ruined," He continued, and huh, Tony had to admit that he hadn't expected that to come from the guy's lips, "I thought you might at least try to save the other half."

Tony's eyes narrowed. "Why the sudden concern with my health?"

"I don't know," Clint shrugged, "I thought you were the kind of guy who would want to see his kid grow up."

Tony stared. That was all he could do. That and wonder if Clint had just offended him. Then he realized that half of what Clint said did offend him. "You know …" He started, eyes turning to the contents of his glass while he wondered what he was even doing, but he figured if he could talk to someone it was Clint. The guy might be a dick sometimes, but he was a great listener. Tony suspected Natasha had trained him to be. "You know what I'm always thinking when I'm with him?"

"Don't drop him?" A smug grin spread across Clint's face.

Any other time, Tony would have punched him in the shoulder for that, but for once, he was dead-serious and he wanted the conversation to be dead-serious. He gazed into Clint's light eyes, nothing but sincerity lining his features. Clint got the hint.

"Just do better than Howard," Tony said.

"The kid is still tiny," Clint replied, "I mean, how old is he now? Three months?"

"Five, nearly six."

"You can't screw up being a dad to a five-month-old." A smile curved Clint's lips upward. "Seriously, Tony, all you gotta do is feed him and change his diapers in time, and you've got a nanny for that now who is very pretty if I might add, but don't tell Tasha I said that or I'll kick your ass."

Tony hummed before taking another sip from his glass. "You're really great at giving parental advice, you know that?"

Clint nodded assuredly. "I do what I can."

There wasn't really much else Tony wanted to say. In truth, he should get some rest because while the nanny would come over in the morning, he still liked to be there to take Fredric out of bed and get him dressed. The rest of the day was booked with meetings so he knew he wouldn't get to see the little guy that much tomorrow.

"Steve came by again."

Tony groaned, but otherwise hid his annoyance and curiosity. "Did he now?"

"Yeah," Clint said in the most ordinary tone which kinda grated at Tony's nerves. He wished everyone was as pissed off with Steve fucking Rogers as he was, but that just wasn't the case. "He bought a little car-set for Fredric. It's really adorable."

Not having anything to say to that, Tony kept his mouth shut. The subject of the Captain often came up, but he just wasn't ready yet to forgive the guy.

"How much longer are you going to ignore him for?"

A heavy sigh escaped Tony's lips. He wasn't sure what annoyed him more; the fact that the subject of their conversation was Steve again or the fact that Clint was bringing it for the umpteenth time now. "At least a little while longer," He replied when Clint kept staring at him, actually expecting an answer, "I like to see him stew in his own guilt."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Will you just talk to him already?" He asked as he straightened his back and pushed himself away from the railing. He turned his body toward Tony and stared down at him with sharp eyes. "I know what he did was kinda rude, but he's a part of our team."

Tony didn't bother moving. He quite liked leaning onto the railing.

"Kinda rude?"

"Fine," Clint gave in, "He'll burn in hell for it and I've heard that's a real place if we may believe Thor's stories, so stop giving Steve hell for it here in this life."

"Alright, alright," Tony sighed, "I'll think about it."

"And stop drinking," Clint added. He snatched the glass of whiskey right out of Tony's unsuspecting hands. "Wanna do better than Howard? Then quit your alcoholic behavior."

Tony looked hurt if nothing else, though his eyes revealed a hint of amusement. In truth, it was some solid advice that he should follow if he had any brain cells left. "That was rude," He muttered.

Clint threw him another smug smile. "Thank me later."

-/-

Tony didn't talk to Steve for another two weeks.

-/-

"You gotta stop buying him presents," Tony said as he sauntered into the nursery.

Steve spun around, away from the crib in which Fredric lay wide awake. His tiny little hands were grasping a small teddy bear that wore a shirt with Iron Man's symbol drawn on it which was rather adorable, but Tony wouldn't voice that thought. Besides, he was too focused on Steve standing awkwardly before the crib as if having been caught with his hand in the cookie-jar.

"I mean it," Tony said when he knew Steve was too lost for words. He walked up to the crib and smiled down at his son – his son who let out a pleased sound at the sight of his father. "I don't want him to end up spoiled rotten and have him turn into … well, me." He glanced up at Steve who was still staring at him. "It took a dark and dank cave to straighten me out a bit. I'd like to avoid that for him."

Steve cleared his throat and took a step away from the crib, away from Tony, his hands sliding into his pockets. It was a peculiar sight to see Captain fucking America act so insecure, but Tony couldn't bring himself to care. It was amusing, though.

"So what?" Steve asked softly. "You're talking to me again?"

Tony ignored the question while he reminded himself that he was doing Clint a favor. It helped him keep his anger and disappointment at bay. "You still feel guilty about what you did?" He asked in return.

"You know I do," Steve answered without missing a beat.

"Good." Tony reached down into the crib and caressed the side of Fredric's round little face for a moment. Then he turned back to Steve, his dark brown eyes piercing those bright blue ones. "You can spend the rest of your life making it up to him," He said as he pointed behind him.

Steve's lips parted as if he wanted to speak, but no sound left him. His brows furrowed and he looked nothing short of a very confused Golden Retriever.

"Look, the little guy is gonna need all the protection he can get," Tony explained as he crossed his arms before his chest, never once breaking eye-contact, "He's half human, half … Frost Giant, I suppose. Anyway, if they don't want him in order to get back at his parents, they might want him for more … clinical purposes. In any case, he'll need protection and since you're a super-soldier and all that, you'll live longer. You can look after him for longer."

Steve nodded as he straightened his back and squared his shoulders. "You know I will protect him with my life if I must," He said.

"Good," Tony said. He only managed to produce half of a smile. It would take more time to actually bring himself to forgive him for his betrayal, but this could be a start. At least it was something.

He glanced behind him to find that Fredric had fallen asleep.

"I guess I'll see you around, Rogers," He said as he walked out of the nursery. He heard the small sigh of relief coming from Steve's lips, but he didn't comment on it. Perhaps one day they could be friends again.

One day.

-/-

It was strange how life settled in its old ways so quickly. At least, the old ways plus a baby. Somehow Tony had expected more trouble. He had expected the press to jump on his case – Who wouldn't be interested in knowing who the mother of the great Tony Stark's son was? – but there hadn't been so much as a tabloid-journalist around. Natasha had dropped a few hints that SHIELD was keeping them all at bay, but each time that name was so much as mentioned, Tony's mood dropped, his gaze clouding with anger, so Natasha didn't bother anymore.

The fact that she and Clint still worked for the organization bothered him, too, and he remembered his vow to be done with them if they decided to keep working for Fury, but the one-eyed asshole was no longer the Director so Tony didn't bother throwing them out of his penthouse. In truth, he liked having them around, if just to hear Fredric make ridiculous noises when he spotted them. The little guy particularly liked Natasha's red hair.

As for Steve … Tony was trying, he really was, but it was hard to look the guy in the eye and not want to punch him in the face. He was working on it, though, and he could tell Steve appreciated it which in turn annoyed the hell out of him again. The fact that a new Director of SHIELD needed to be chosen and that Steve was apparently at the top of that list according to Natasha didn't help further their relationship either, but on the other hand, Steve as the Director could bring about some changes, maybe some good ones.

And then there was Loki. He – and Thor – still needed to show up and as each day passed, Tony had more and more trouble believing he'd ever see the guy again. Slowly, he was starting to believe that Loki was already back in some Asgardian cell where he may or may not belong, an idea that made Tony's stomach twist painfully.

Thor had promised to bring him home, though, and the god of thunder never broke his promises.

Tony had to believe that.

-/-

It had been another long day at the office which was another way to say that it had been a boring day. And a tiring one. Tony just hadn't been made for board-meetings. Those were Pepper's forte, but since he was still the CEO of Stark Industries he was obligated to at least attend a few over the year.

The ride up to his penthouse in the elevator offered a few minutes of peace and quiet before he'd most likely find Clint and Natasha sprawled on his couch, playing some random game on the PlayStation, being incredibly loud. It was their luck Fredric was such a sound sleeper. He'd kick them out otherwise.

Much to his surprise, however, the TV wasn't playing as he entered the living room and the two master-assassins were nowhere to be seen. That didn't mean they weren't around, though. They were always around, much to Tony's annoyance. After tossing his coat aside, he walked into his kitchen and headed straight for the fridge. He could use an ice-cold beer.

Leaning against the counter stood a tall and broad blond god, and Tony threw him a happy smile. "Hi, Thor," He greeted him before pulling open the fridge and hoping with all of his heart and soul that Clint hadn't gotten his hands on his alcohol.

Then it hit him

Thor.

Tony slammed the fridge shut and spun around to look at the big blond god again, blinking a few times just to make sure he wouldn't disappear into thin air. He didn't, though. Thor just smiled at him, that blue gaze of his seemingly extra bright and a pair of dimples in his cheeks.

Tony's heart began to race, his throat suddenly turning so very dry. "Is he here?" He asked and, honestly, he didn't know why he sounded so breathless.

Thor inclined his head. "Out on the balcony."

Without another word, Tony darted from the kitchen, across the living room and toward the balcony where yes, he stood. For one brief moment, he couldn't move anymore. His hand latched around the door-handle, knuckles turning white, but he couldn't bring himself to actually open it. He could only stare at the backside of Loki and take in the black linen trousers and the dark green shirt. Somehow he looked smaller without his armor.

Finally he pushed open the door, his eyes never leaving Loki's figure out of fear he would disappear, but he didn't. Loki spun around at the noise behind him, emerald green eyes instantly locking with Tony's chocolate brown ones and Tony felt like he couldn't breathe. He had to force himself to take a step forward, to move closer toward him.

"You're back," He said and yeah, great going, dipshit. He didn't know when he'd lost his vocabulary and he honestly didn't have a clue what to say.

Loki smiled faintly as he leaned back against the railing, hands folding in front of his stomach, one ankle crossing over the other. He looked good considering everything that had happened. His skin was a pale, healthy shade, his lips were full and red and his eyes had a vibrant green color.

His gaze stood open, inviting, and Tony could feel his heart skip another beat.

Fuck, he'd missed that man.

"What the hell took you so long?" He ended up asking while he took another step closer toward him. If he reached out now, he could actually touch him, but Tony still felt hesitant, unsure of where they stood now in their relationship. Did they even have a relationship?

"Thor refused to let me go for as long as I had a wound in my chest," Loki said, shrugging, though Tony heard the faint notes of affection ringing through his voice. It was hardly noticeable, but it was there nonetheless. "He didn't leave my side so I couldn't even sneak out of there. Mother wouldn't stop fawning over me either. It was hateful."

Tony snorted. "You loved every second of it," He said. He had trouble believing how easily they fell into old patterns again, but he wouldn't change it for the world. And Loki didn't seem to mind either, certainly not when he produced a small smile, just enough to curve the edges of his lips upward as if he and Tony were sharing a secret. Perhaps they were. "Have you seen him?" Tony asked suddenly. He dared to take a risk and reach out to place a hand on top of Loki's folded ones.

Loki's emerald green eyes instantly fell down to the touch, but there was nothing about him that showed he disliked the contact. He stayed calm and relaxed, certainly so when he twisted his right hand a bit, his thumb moving to caress the back of Tony's hand.

"Of course I have seen him," He replied so very softly. There was no denying the warmth in his voice. "He has your eyes."

Tony couldn't help but gaze at Loki, couldn't help but take in every detail of his appearance as if he needed more evidence that he really was there and that he really was okay. Loki could feel his eyes on him, though, and he sent Tony a questioning look.

"What?" He asked, green eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"I'm really glad you're home," Tony simply replied. He reached up with his other hand and ran it through Loki's raven hair. It was a gesture he'd done a million times already in the past, but it felt different now. It felt new and more meaningful. He had a feeling Loki needed to be reminded of the affection he felt for him because after everything that had happened, his feelings for him hadn't lessened in any way. "I thought I'd never see you again."

Loki leaned into the touch and smiled before he closed the distance between them, lips brushing against each other before Tony decided to screw it all. He placed his hands on each side of Loki's neck and kissed him like there was no tomorrow, tongue licking at the seam of Loki's lips, asking entrance which he instantly got.

Eventually they had to part to breathe, though, and Tony could hardly think anymore. He had waited weeks for this moment, started doubting that this moment would ever come, but it was happening now and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Loki smiled, his hands gripping Tony's wrists tightly as if wanting to keep them in place. Tony didn't mind at all. So very gently, Loki pressed another kiss to Tony's lips before letting out a small pleased sound.

"I'm glad I'm home, too."

The end.