Accepting Defeat.

[teofse]

 

Title: Accepting Defeat.
Author: Teofse
Fandom: MCU
Pairing: Loki/Tony
Characters: Loki, Tony Stark
Rating: G.
Word count: 967
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Marvel (both comics and movies). No money is being made out of this work.
A/N1: Unbetaed. Post Avengers AU, disregards Iron Man 3 and Thor: TDW. This is the last installment of my adventdrabbles 2014 series No Time For Sentiment. Prompt 22: Snow Globe.
A/N2: This story is now officially complete.
Summary: Loki has known for ages now that Midgard suits him like Asgard never did. Like Jotunheim will never be allowed to. Like no other place out there could possibly suit him anymore, because he's found home here.

Accepting Defeat.

 

Magic was a great and wondrous thing but, despite everything it had allowed him to do in his long life and the million and one ways in which it had saved not only his own skin but that of his companions, Loki had recently come to accept that power alone couldn't make him happy.

He used to find joy in his mother's counsel, in his books and trinkets, in the soothing prettiness that nature so easily displays when left to its own devices. He'd found comfort in silence, self-control and the exquisite art of thought. His pre-Midgard existence used to be one of quietude, ever-growing isolation and a bitterness that had slowly turned him into a mass-murdering monster.

It's only in recent years that Loki has finally learned what true happiness looks like. He'd found it in his mortal's smiles and mischievous quips. In the thoroughly passionate looks that are so hot, so arousing, that they set his body on fire. He's found it in the gleeful anticipation with which he holds hands with Tony during most Avengers' meetings, just to watch Fury's spluttering indignation and bask in the glorious sense of achievement he feels every time he catches the rest of the team's silent laughter.

His life in Midgard has changed completely in the last couple of years and it has changed him in turn, mellowing his former arrogance and making him more patient. Less prone to bouts of grief and discontent. Less willing to indulge in self-pity.

He's learned to accept and enjoy the respect of his colleagues. Treasure both the pride he hears in his brother's voice whenever they cross paths and the knowledge that he's known here as Loki: one of the Avengers. The one with the magic, the cool spear and the hottest boyfriend.

He enjoys mundane things like coffee and peaches, too. Still goes ga-ga over Christmas carols, snow-globes, surfing with Tony off the coast of Malibu and quiet afternoons spent plotting new ways to turn poor Banner green, just because his mortal enjoys it.

Loki has known for ages now that Midgard suits him like Asgard never did. Like Jotunheim will never be allowed to. Like no other place out there could possibly suit him anymore, because he's found home here. He has the Avengers and Thor. He has Anthony.

His smile grew as the ping of the elevator broke the quiet, announcing his arrival at his destination. He should have been here an hour ago but had been called away to analyze an unknown magical artifact, and had been too fascinated by it to heed Anthony's increasingly impatient texts.

The doors opened to loud music, strobe lights and a mass of dancing bodies, and he shook his head with glee, realizing he'd just won fifty bucks from Barton because Anthony had done it again: he must have grown bored with Pepper's stuffy list of V.I.P.s and twitted a general invitation to join the company's 'private' New Year party, open to whoever could make it to the tower in time, just like he'd done last year.
“Barton should have known Anthony would do it again just to watch Pepper squirm.”

Natasha saw him first and pointed a long, red-painted nail in the general direction of the balcony, waving him a flirty kiss that he swiftly returned. He'd endured Thor's bear hug and the captain's shoulder tap along the way, but missed the other two members of the team altogether.

He'd just spotted Tony through the balcony's glass door when the entire room went silent and a loud TEN! boomed over the speaker system. Tony pulled out his cell and tapped furiously on the screen, making the phone inside Loki's coat pocket vibrate in the next second.

NINE! his mortal whirled around, right hand going to his hair, probably to pull it out in frustration, but the gesture froze on EIGHT! as familiar amber eyes zeroed in on him with the accuracy that never failed to make him weak at the knees.

SEVEN! Tony started moving forwards determinedly, clearly intent on reaching him before the New Year began, and at the count of SIX! Loki remembered his lover's explanation about how if you end the countdown with a kiss that's what you will do for the majority of the next twelve months. They'd done it last year and the one before that to wonderful results, so he focused on his beloved and Teleported to him just in time to hear the loud boom of FIVE!

“What took you so long? I thought you weren't going to make it. I'd have been right pissed it you'd cost us our entire quota of kisses for next year.” Tony growled and Loki laughed at FOUR!, feeling delightfully lighthearted.

“But I made it, Anthony. I. Made. It.”

Tony looked at him then, catching something in his gaze that made his own soften on THREE! and whispered quietly, but with feeling:
“Yes. You've made it, snowflake. And I've made it too. We both made it together.”

Loki's arms curled around his mortal's waist on TWO! and he lowered his lips to plant a scorching kiss on Tony's welcoming mouth in the nick of time. Their tongues tangled together and the entire world disappeared from their consciousness as they explored each other's mouths with passionate eagerness. Tony groaned, nipping his bottom lip playfully and Loki was about to retaliate when the first firework exploded. 

They sprung apart, startled, and realized they had missed that all-important ONE! altogether. Laughter bubbled up their throats as their hands entwined and Loki understood at that point that, no matter what the New Year threw at them, they would sail trough it, regardless. They had each other. They were in love. And that... that was all that mattered. Sentiment had won the battle.

The End.

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