"Speak of the devil" Tony said on a feed to the rest of the Avengers. "Loki's here."

"Loki is what-?" He heard Clint curse. "We're coming." Loki shot another blast-and it shot right past Tony, hitting the back of the limo. Tony watched, eyes wide.

"Whoever's out first get to my limo," he said over the intercom. "Loki's flipped it over. Happy and Amy were in there," now that she might be dead, he found himself able to remember her name, the bitterness of Loki's actions rotting on his tongue.

He flew at Loki, who was on the roof of a nearby building. Loki was aiming his scepter for another blast at the limo, glancing back and forth between it and Tony as he tried to figure out if he'd be able to launch another blast before Tony got to him. Tony flew faster, unable to tell if he was going to go for the shot-he did-and Tony slammed into him, knocking into Loki hard before pushing them into a roll to lessen the impact as they slammed into the pavement of the roof.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Tony yelled, looking in Loki's eyes through the Iron Man suit.

"Stark," he snarled. "You're a fool!"

He disappeared into nothingness, and Tony fell flat on the ground. He rolled over, prepared to defend against a blow but Loki was facing the other way, aiming another blast at the limo. Tony stumbled back to his feet and lurched at him-but it wasn't him, he wasn't there-and he fell straight over the roof's edge, only gaining sense of what had happened as he slammed against the ground. He groaned, rolling over and getting up as Loki approached the limo.

What the fuck was Loki doing? Was he really so possessive that'd he flip his shit like this? Tony knew Loki was crazy, or at least, a part of him was crazy, but Tony wasn't self important enough to be fooled into thinking this was just one jealous rampage over a date he was barely paying attention to, especially since he was currently dating Pepper.

But if he wasn't jealous, why was he here? Why would he attack now, in the middle of all this, in front of press and literally right outside where the avengers were? He had to either be really pissed, or he had a plan that involved getting people hyped up over him again, as if they weren't scared enough already. Could it actually be that Loki was that jealous of a guy? Tony struggled to believe that; he was too smart to come marching out in a furious tantrum like this without further provocation.

It had to be something else. This wasn't some crazed power trip, wasn't about jealousy, and didn't seem to be a part of some take over the world plan, so what the fuck-?

"Hey, Loki," Tony called, his repulsor aimed at the back of his head. "Why don't you take a second and, uh, tell me what the fuck you are doing?"

Loki turned and looked at him, scowling. "Why must you interfere in everything?!" He demanded. "Standby! Have I not earned some measure of trust?!" Tony stopped, surprised. Had Loki earned his trust? So was all of this something to him after all? Or did he think that hooking up made them friends? Hell, did it? Was that how Loki was playing this? Tony searched his face for a lie or any sort of sarcasm, but he wasn't given the chance to find it, as Thor came barreling outside and Loki's head whipped in his direction. His face twisted with annoyance, or with fear, and looked back at Tony before he disappeared into nothing.

Well, he tried.

Tony, without thinking, raised and open palm and fired a beam straight at Loki as the rest of the Avengers ran out of the building. Loki took it full on in the gut, stumbling backwards and his abdomen. His face twisted in a snarl at Tony before vanishing, tricking Tony into a millisecond of relief; a sudden hand gripped the shoulder of the Iron Man suit violently, fingers pressing into the metal. Loki's head appeared over his other shoulder a millisecond later, his whole body tensing.

"Not quite," he laughed. His smile was like a scar across his face, and even though he was still wearing the Iron Man suit Tony felt naked, felt as though Loki knew every stupid or brilliant thing he's ever done, that he was confirming that the negatives canceled out all the hope he had of being a good person. He felt as though Loki was laughing at him for trying to cover up his mistakes with his kindness. His eyes were slate black and dead. Staring at them, a spark ran down Tony's spine and he felt as though Loki's concise understanding was superior to infinite alternatives, that it extended further than he could ever grasp; Loki knew, understood his fears, his wants, his needs, like he was completely at hand with Tony's thoughts, hands picking through the fears in him.

So much for-

Loki disappeared, and Tony fell to his knees, eyes on the ground and not seeing anything. His heart pounded in his chest, he felt violated, horrified, by Loki, for the first time since the bathroom, and it was overpowering, more overcoming and laced with the bitterness of defeat, of his the loss of his surefootedness. The devil was a liar, a snake.

Tony had swallowed the poison snake had said, 'give me your hand,' and Tony had rolled up his sleeve and offered the whole arm.

He heard the Avengers yelling, and yet his mind didn't understand what they were saying for a long moment.

"STOP HIM! STOP HIM!" Someone was screaming. Tony looked up, blinking back into the world. His eyes searched for Loki, and he wasn't there. Instead, he was at the limo, ripping the door the driver's side and yanking the driver out. He pulled a knife from a fold in his clothing, and glanced back. Hawkeye was there, an arrow unsheathed and pointed directly at Loki. He released, and for a moment Tony thought Loki would drop Happy and the night would be a success. Instead, Loki put the knife to Happy's neck and they disappeared.

The last motion he'd made was that of the knife drawing across Happy's throat.

Loki tossed the body in an alley before returning home. One down; not nearly as difficult as he'd expected, but the next would be harder, now that his enemy was on guard. Walking into his living room, he reminded himself to be further vigilant with his own safety. He stripped off the heavier layers of his armor, leaving them on the floor. He was unmarked from the fight except for a bruise left from being hit by the Iron Man suit's blast. It was a light yellow, already deep into the process of healing, and yet, out of all the marks Tony had ever left, this was the most painful.

He stretched leisurely across his couch, head and legs hanging over either ends. He though of Tony, and of the expression on his face when Loki had disappeared. He looked furious, confused, and most of all, desperate.

Loki let his head hang back in the air and he laughed, the sound starting off as a quiet melody, growing filling the room.

Tony would be coming, too, no doubt. Tony was no coward, and Loki knew he'd come here as soon as he could. He trusted that he would come alone, for he had no way of explaining his knowledge of Loki's lodgings, or his familiarity with them. But he would come, no doubt.

It didn't seem likely to Loki that Tony would tell the Avengers where he was, even now, after what he'd done. Tony was going to want answers, and he knew he was a lot less likely to get them if Loki was in a holding cell at SHEILD explaining the accusations Loki was making against him about their affair, although, Loki had a back up plan to ensure he was never captured in the first place.

Tony must've been completely entangled in SHEILD crap, because it took him much longer to arrive than the god had anticipated it would. But he arrived alone, in a fit of anger, pounding on the door.

"Loki—"

"It's open. I heard your monstrous footsteps plodding up the first flight of stairs when you got here." The door swung open and Tony stormed inside, slamming the door behind him, walking to where Loki was still reclined across the length of the couch.

"Where do you get off?" his voice was quiet, trembling with anger. "From what, the sex? The violence? The 'don't you trust me' crap? Or from genuinely convincing me that even though you're attacking me, aiming your guns at my limo, you somehow have me thinking I'm the one causing the problems? That I've wronged you for not trusting you to have a good reason slitting Happy's throat? Please, tell me, what is it here that has you so fucking smug?" Loki raised an eyebrow at him, smile fading as displeasure

"Are you applying for my justification? I apologize if I don't seem obliged to falsify any interest," Loki replied. "And let me assure you that the man at the wheel of that vehicular device was no friend of yours, and put your mind to rest," he laughed. "You came all the way here to make a fuss, and you didn't even stop to examine the corpse. Please, ask any of your alliances, the man I killed was not" he sat up, slinging his legs back onto the ground and sitting straight. "Anyone you knew." His eyes pointedly eyed the seat adjacent to himself; Tony, who was clearly taken aback, ignored him and pulled out his phone, dialing a number. Loki waited patiently to hear the confirmation, and when Tony hung up the phone, his face was uncertain.

"So what, you planned the whole thing on purpose? You knew it wouldn't be Happy, and—" he paused, sitting down, filling in pieces. The dead driver wasn't Happy, and his date wasn't Pepper and none of Tony's friends had ever been in danger. But Loki had still killed this guy, whoever he was.

Tony sat down.

"So what, is this some kind of threat? What was the point of all this?" Tony asked. Loki looked at him and laughed.

"You could call it a threat," he said, smiling lightly and gesturing. "But it's not something I would…" he paused, emphatically draping his arm over the couch behind where Tony sat. "…concern myself with,"

"That's cute," Tony replied, feigning disinterest. "But I'm not drunk and I still have no idea what you real motivation was back there. So maybe you chat me up about what's really going on, and we get to the fun stuff later?" Loki's apartment had one window outside of the bedroom. It was in the kitchen, clean decorated sparsely with nothing but a toaster and a coffee maker Tony though Loki might've stolen from a hotel. In the cupboards there was a limited amount of dishes, and the spice rack was untouched. The fridge, Tony imagined, would be empty, the black countertops immaculate, though he couldn't tell from where he was, and the stove unused. Loki had an abundance of absolutely nothing, from what Tony could tell, except malice and charisma. He examined the coffee pot, keeping his eyes of Loki and on the mostly empty apartment instead.

"That's funny, " Loki interrupted his attempt at self distraction too easily, and Tony's eyes flicked back to Loki's and held there, like convicts behind a cell door. "as you've never required any sort of coercion beyond our first few…conversations. One might even go as far to say that…had you not compelled me to believe in your favor…we never would have become involved in the first place." Loki's hand was dancing on his shoulder, the pads of his fingers pressing gently into the skin as they slid to rest on Tony's bicep. He moved closer on the black leather couch, eyes boring into Tony's. It wasn't a sell yet, Loki knew. He could see that his distraction was working, and yet, Tony was fighting it. "I'll explain everything," he reassured, "at a time that is convenient to me, in a way that's…" he kissed Tony, lightly, "beneficial to both of us."

"To be clear," Tony said, his voice quiet, but in firm tone, "I will get that confession out of you…" he let Loki kiss him again. "…regardless of whether…" another kiss. "…you're ready when I ask," Loki was edging him onto his back with each kiss. "so you've been warned," Loki was on top of him, just like that, Tony's legs straddling him, their kisses uninterrupted by words, until:

"I'll take extreme caution, then," Loki breathed. "in being thoroughly prepared."

Then, at the prompting of Tony's emotions, they had angry sex on Loki's couch.

Twice.

"Have you ever had a cheeseburger?" Tony asked suddenly, waking Loki, who had drifted off to sleep on top of him.

"What in the nine realms is a cheeseburger?" Loki replied irritably, "and why are you so chatty right after sex?"

"What do you mean you've never had a cheese burger? Pizza? Ice cream? Steak?"

"Of course not," Loki replied, looking at him, startled by earnest face. "I'm by no means acquainted with your food groups."

"You own a coffee machine!"

"I stole it." Loki replied, sitting up on his knees, clearly confused by Tony's alarm.

"Okay...okay-get dressed." Tony said, getting up and fixing his clothes. "We're going to get you a cheeseburger ASAP." he informed Loki, his voice completely serious.

"I hardly see the need for this-"

"Loki," Tony deadpanned. "You're stuck here. Might as well learn your way around a restaurant or two,"

Loki sat in bed for a moment, watching Tony scramble into and straightening his clothes. "I hardly believe it would be particularly advantageous to have one with as much-notoriety as ourselves in public in such a flagrant manner,"

"What, can't you disguise yourself?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he pulled on his pants. "You're a god, after all. Or so I hear."

"Do I get any say in—"

"no."