A/N: Whelp, as previously stated, this is just a bit of fluff that I wrote while I should have been sleeping and also my first fanfic type thing ever so. Any sort of constructive criticism is lovely and greatly appreciated, and please tell me if you see any grammar/spelling errors. Cheers!

When the endorphins and adrenaline have worn off, those are perhaps his favorite moments. He wouldn't ever admit it, of course, even under pain of landing a spot on Natasha's personal hit list, but his favorite moments of this little … thing they've carved out here (they're both hesitant to give it a name – too worried that this thing would crumble under the weight of the wrong name) are when it's dark and the sweat is just cooling on their skin. The quiet bits that don't need a name when they're both about to drift off to sleep are his favorite.

"Loki?" Tony slurs from the exhaustion descending on him.

A hum from the other body in the bed answers him, "What?"

He pauses for a moment like he has surprised himself, "Nothing, Bambi." Tony smirks to himself and settles closer to Loki. What isn't said is that there was something close to something as ridiculous as 'I love you' on his tongue. Must be the sleep deprivation, he tells himself. Has to be. Because stupid little phrases like that are the number one cause of death in things like this one. He's almost certain there's a pie chart somewhere that proves that. Probably. Maybe.

"Go to sleep, Stark," Loki mutters into the pillow in response, low and threatening and, to the acutely trained ear, maybe a little affectionate.

"Make me," Tony says, even though he can feel the sleep creeping in.

"I will kill you," He grumbles, not particularly convincing.

Tony chuckles and yawns, "I'd like to see you try, Reindeer Games." He stretches and curls even closer to Loki. And then a thought occurs to him. Y'know what, fuck pie charts. "And anyway you can't kill me, I love you. That would be a pretty shitty way to return my affection, as we both know from experience. And honestly I don't know what you would do without me," Tony mutters quietly into Loki's back, quiet enough that they could both pretend it was never said if it proves enough to kill this thing.

But there is something of a smile on Loki's face, a warm feeling in his chest, "Probably get a few moments' peace, you insufferable mortal." There isn't any bite in the insult, "Cease speaking and go to sleep for the love of anything Midgardians find holy."

Tony smiles, "Anything for you, dear."