FIC: Still Carrying the Past ~ FrostIron (Tony/Loki) ~ M/R ~ Part 2 of 2

[batsutousai]

Title: Still Carrying the Past
Fandom: Marvel (movie 'verse)
Author: Batsutousai
Beta: Shara Lunison
Rating: R/M
Pairings: Loki/Tony Stark
Warnings: post-Ragnarok, character death, allusions to past tortures and other violence, reincarnation (of a fashion), canon racism, mention of previous Tony/Pepper
Summary: Loki looks to make right all that he once made wrong.

Part One can be found here.

-0-

--

Loki didn't visit Howard Stark again. He focussed, instead, on ensuring the other Avengers had happier childhoods, but he tried not to set them so off course that they would never become those great warriors they had been. Because he'd learned during his last life just how important the Avengers had been to their realm – to all the realms – in the end.

For Bruce and Clint, he managed to twist things in child services just enough to bring them together, and they formed a friendship that would survive decades and miles of separation. For Natasha, a doll that no one else could see, which he could magically speak through and give her a friend during the most trying moments of her training. And Anthony...

Loki never visited Howard Stark again, no, but he watched from afar as the man forced smiles and pride for his only son. It wasn't perfect, and Anthony clearly knew better than to trust his father's platitudes, but at least Stark tried, and at least he didn't ignore or beat Anthony, so Loki didn't come down on him like an avenging angel.

Anthony and Loki finally met at one charity ball or another, when the mortal was twenty-nine and running Stark Industries in name only, far too interested in sex and alcohol to care what he was signing when his PA – not Virginia Potts, Loki had been disturbed to discover – handed him a stack of papers. Loki often attended the charity functions Stark Industries held, watching his once-lover through crowds and waiting for some sign that Anthony was ready for him (he feared the mortal would never be ready for the god, but he had hope and patience, so he sat back and tried not to care about the revolving door of women Anthony escorted from public).

Loki had been drawn into a conversation with James Rhodes – still Anthony's best friend, Loki had been relieved to discover – about a couple weapons Stark Industry had recently sold to the military, when the genius was suddenly standing next to him, a woman wearing too much perfume on one arm. "Hey, Rhodey," he greeted the pilot, smile wide and eyes curious as he turned to Loki. "I thought I knew all the smart people here?"

Loki smiled back smoothly. "I have been cleverly avoiding you so as to not be shown as false," he commented.

Anthony's smile widened and he slipped his hand from the woman at his side to offer to Loki. "Tony Stark."

"I'm quite aware of who you are," Loki returned, allowing a brief handshake.

Anthony's eyes narrowed when Loki didn't say anything further. "It's a common theme around here. But that doesn't mean I know your name." He glanced at James, who blinked, suddenly realising that he hadn't caught Loki's name earlier.

Loki gave a shallow bow. "I'm aware." He glanced towards the exit. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."

"Wait!" Anthony called as Loki slipped into the thinning crowds, but a motion had Loki vanishing back into the embrace of Yggdrasil, breathing harder than he would have expected. He hadn't been prepared, and was certain he'd handled that poorly.

"Blast and damn," Loki muttered as he started for Jötunheim, a gesture fading his Midgardian suit into something more suitable for his native realm.

He didn't return to Midgard for almost two years as humans figured time, distracted by some difficulties that had appeared in Jötunheim which were eased with the presence of a sorcerer of Loki's calibre. When he returned, he didn't go immediately to check on Anthony, instead looking in on Clint and Natasha – the two were working for SHIELD by then, and cautious allies – and Bruce – who was on the run and had finally stopped returning Clint's attempts to contact him last year to keep the archer safe, not that he'd explained this to Clint, or that Clint would have accepted such excuses. Loki, though, could keep an eye on Bruce, then anonymously relay information about him back to Clint, who used it and his connections inside SHIELD to keep the military and members of SHIELD away from the fugitive.

Only after completing his other self-given duties, did Loki slip into one of Stark Industries' parties, stepping invisibly past the door greeters without anyone the wiser – these parties were by invitation only, and he wasn't on the list. He hadn't been inside for more than five minutes when Anthony appeared at his side, one hand slipping easily into Loki's arm. "Let's talk before I call security," he suggested with a wide smile that was all lies.

Loki glanced down at the shorter man. "As you please," he agreed.

Anthony led him away from the crowds and down a back hallway clearly designed for servers, ignoring any surprised looks at their presence. "Who are you?" the mortal demanded once they had passed the kitchen and most of the traffic, and he wasn't even pretending to be friendly any more. In his eyes, Loki could see the glint of Iron Man, and it thrilled him in a way he hadn't expected.

In response to that glint, Loki truthfully replied, "I am Loki, son of Laufey and Odin, Second Prince of both Jötunheim and Asgard."

Anthony blinked, his animosity bleeding away. "Wait... What? You're a...prince?"

Loki sighed and ran a careful hand through his hair, leaving it magically undisturbed from his favoured style. "I am. In your world, I am known better as a god; the Norse God of Mischief and Lies."

Anthony snorted, always more certain when religion was brought into the picture. "Yeah, right. Good tr–"

Loki teleported across the hallway, raising an eyebrow at the mortal when he turned to stare at him. "I assure you, Anthony, this is no falsity."

Anthony quickly rallied himself. "Right," he said blandly. "So you've got some sort of weird trick going on, some sort of, of–"

"Magic," Loki suggested just as blandly. "I had not thought you so neglected that you would not know so simple a concept."

Anthony's eyes flashed, and Loki realised he'd said the wrong thing just before the mortal snapped, "Get out. Get the fuck out of my party and don't let me ev–"

Loki fell back into Yggdrasil, hurting and wanting to punish himself for being an idiot.

He went to Asgard and talked Thor into facing him on the training grounds, where he was painfully brought to his back, bleeding from half a dozen cuts and bruised all over.

"Was there a point to this?" Thor wanted to know as he carried Loki to the healers. He'd tried to stop a number of times, but Loki had refused to let the sparring end until he could no longer get up.

Loki rested his head against his brother's bicep, eyes closed from pain more physical than emotional, for the moment. "I did a foolish thing," he admitted.

"Next time you need someone to punish you," Thor snapped, "challenge Father to one of your games of wits."

"I'm sorry," Loki whispered, because he knew he'd done wrong again. It seemed he could do little but ruin things today.

Thor sighed and set him gently down on a bed, stepping back to let the healers fuss over the darker haired prince. Only once Loki was healed sufficiently to return to his rooms under his own power did Thor ask, "Did you wish to speak of it?"

Loki considered it, but eventually shook his head. "No. But I am grateful for the offer."

"Sometimes, Brother, for all your wisdom, you are truly the fool," Thor commented.

Loki smiled tiredly. "Walk me to my rooms?"

"Of course."

--

Loki didn't visit Anthony again, though he did check up on the mortal when he was on Midgard to look in on the other mortals he cared for. Anthony took to sleeping around with a vengeance for a few months, then focussed all his attention on making better weapons, mouth forever turned with an entirely false smile. During his time cloistered in his workshop, Virginia was made his PA – Anthony had a habit of either sleeping with PAs or making them leave in tears, depending on his mood – and refused to be either cowed or seduced. Her presence drew him out of his funk and he returned to his normal life of partying, drinking, and sleeping with anything female.

Loki adored and hated Virginia. She had been little more than an acquaintance during his first life, but he'd known her as both friend and rival for Anthony's affections during his second life. As much as he didn't want to lose Anthony to her again, he knew how important she was in keeping Anthony settled, and they had been truly fine friends before.

Now, he watched them dance around each other with a heavy heart, resigning himself to never again having Anthony as his lover. One day, he might remember that just because he knew all of them, didn't mean they knew him and would forgive him his dry humour and sharp tongue so easily.

Then, one visit, Loki peeked in at Anthony's home and work, only to find him missing. Some subtle inquiries told him he'd vanished in Afghanistan just over a month ago. Loki didn't think, he just teleported to the cave Anthony had once told him of.

He found Anthony working on what Loki knew would become the first Iron Man armour, a pale blue light glaring – achingly familiar – out from his chest. Another mortal also worked in the room, eyeing a couple of metal pieces for a long moment before glancing up and catching sight of Loki. He let out a startled sound and tripped backwards.

"Yinsen?" Anthony said and turned to look where the other mortal was looking. His eyes widened, then narrowed. "You," he spat.

Loki shrugged. "Me."

Anthony pointed an inactive blowtorch at him. "This is your doing, isn't it?"

Loki couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter. "Me? What need have I for your little toys when I have all the power I should wish at my very fingertips? No, Anthony, this–" he waved his hand around to encompass the entire situation, "–was begun by one you think to trust."

Anthony snorted. "Yeah, right. Like I'm going to believe you." He turned his back on Loki.

Loki considered the tense lines of Anthony's back, the wide eyes of the mortal that was helping him, and said, "I would facilitate your escape, if you would allow it."

That got Anthony looking at him again. "If I allow it," he repeated, disbelief in his voice. "Don't you think you're some sort of god? Why would you ask for my permission? I'm just some human being."

Loki's mouth quirked up on one side. "Are you?" he murmured quietly to the last part of Anthony's words. Then, meeting the inventor's eyes and raising his voice slightly, he said, "If I were to simply transport you and your companion from here, you would not thank me, nor would you take a chance at escape, should I provide it. You would act on your own, for vengeance, if nothing else."

Anthony's eyes had narrowed again. "You think you know me?"

Loki shrugged. "My tale is a long and complicated one, but let us simply say that we are not so dissimilar, you and I." He tilted his head. "You would escape of your own power, I am certain, but you would require time. I offer you freedom now."

"At what price?" the other mortal – Yinsen, Loki recalled Anthony calling him – asked. To Anthony, he said, "Gods always ask a price for favours."

Loki smiled bitterly. "I owe a debt I may never repay, but for such little things. I ask no price."

"No," Anthony said, staring at Loki with an emotion the god could not understand in his eyes. "No, I don't take freebies." Yinsen snorted, but Loki inclined his head in understanding. "Name a price."

Loki considered him for a long moment, then nodded to the pieces of suit. "When you are safe again in California, finish that. Create it with materials better suited for its use in battle. True battle."

"That's it? You're not going to order me to like you or anything?"

Loki snorted. "In all my life, I have never ordered someone to like me, and there are few enough that do," he commented drily.

"Huh." Anthony finally set down the blowtorch he'd still been holding. "Okay, then. Save us."

Loki motioned and the three of them were standing in the desert some distance from the compound. Around them sat the various explosives that the group had collected, all unboxed and prepared to fire. Yinsen stared around, wide-eyed, but Anthony looked it all over before turning back to where Loki stood calmly a foot away. "Vengeance, huh?"

Loki shrugged. "As you please. What isn't used can be destroyed to keep it safe."

Anthony took that as an invitation and started activating missiles. Yinsen flinched when the first volley hit, but a vicious smile split his face all the same as the explosions became more numerous.

By the time the weapons were near gone, the hideout the two mortals had been kept in was little more than dented ruin in the mountains it had been built into, and both mortals were grinning at each other, Loki forgotten.

Anthony was just turning to Loki, asking, "So, how about getting back to Amer–" when the sound of a helicopter broke over the distant sounds of crumbling rock.

"Your ride," Loki commented and teleported away just before the military helicopter could come into sight.

He didn't see Anthony again for over a week, checking in with those other mortals and paying a brief visit to Asgard when Thor called for him. When he returned to see Anthony, he didn't bother with subtlety, simply appeared on an unoccupied table in the workshop, watching him work on one of his cars.

"Sir," JARVIS called, cutting the music off.

Anthony pulled himself out from under the car with a scowl, snapping, "JARVIS, what the fu–" He froze upon spotting Loki, eyes going wide for a moment before he managed to control his expression and ask in a falsely calm voice, "Can you get into anywhere?"

Loki shrugged one shoulder. "My adopted father has warded some rooms against my manner of travel, at my direction, but otherwise, yes, I can go where I please."

"Teach me how to ward places against you," Anthony ordered, pointing a wrench at the god.

Loki smirked. "No."

Amusement glimmered in Anthony's eyes. "What, Dad have blackmail on you or something?"

Loki snorted. "The Allfather has nothing to use against me that I did not, first, give him." He thinned his mouth and added in a far more sombre tone, "He has in those rooms objects which might be used to destroy the whole of the universe; those wards are as much to stop our enemies as they are to stop me."

"Destroy the universe," Anthony choked, eyes wide. "Why the– Fuck! Can't you just fucking destroy them or something?"

"To destroy them would be to begin the very thing we wish to avoid," Loki replied quietly. "To keep them intact is our only promise of continued life, and even that is done knowing they will one day serve their purpose." He looked down at his hands. "All that is given life must die, and all that dies will again create life. That is the cycle of this universe, and it is inescapable."

Anthony picked up a rag from near him and worried it between oil-stained hands. "You know who sold me out, don't you?" he asked quietly.

Loki inclined his head. "I do. Have you discovered it for yourself?"

Anthony took a careful breath. "Yeah." He glanced up at Loki. "Yeah, I caught him. Obie. He's, uh, he's in custody right now, facing trial. But he'll probably get off." His face twisted for a moment with anger before smoothing out. "Us rich bastards often do."

"Should he retain his freedom," Loki said carefully, "I would not allow him to live long. Like any beast of prey, he will seek to destroy what he believes to have done him the greatest harm, and that is you, and those who held him behind bars."

Anthony stiffened. "You think he'll attack other people?"

"I do not believe he cares who he hurts, so long as those for whom he cares little end up paying for his anger; those of his moral standards have little care for excuses or innocence when looking to return slights, be they true or imagined."

"That sounds like personal experience," Anthony said carefully, watching Loki with wary eyes.

Loki smiled at him, thin and bitter. "I have a debt to repay," he reminded the mortal.

"You've said." Anthony jumped up onto a table, facing Loki. "Why? What'd you do?"

"I have done much," Loki replied, and now it was him that was careful. "Have you belief in reincarnation, Anthony?" He knew that the Anthony Stark of previous lives had held little stock in the concept, but he'd always been more willing to listen when first given his say on such matters.

Anthony snorted. "What, like that shit about being a French Lord or something in your previous life? Fuck no."

Loki couldn't quite suppress a fond smile at the expected response. "Not quite. In this, I speak of a complete reincarnation. A re-do of the universe, if you will."

Anthony looked for a moment like he might respond with snark, but then he paused, expression blanking. "Weapons meant to destroy the entire universe, you said," he murmured neutrally, eyes sharp on Loki's careful form.

The god nodded. "I did."

"You're talking about, what? A virus created to end all life, then restart it better than before?"

Loki let out a bitter laugh. "That depends what you mean by 'better', does it not?"

Anthony swallowed. "Then what?"

Loki curled forward, bringing his knees up to rest his chin on them. "We call it Ragnarok. It is the moment those weapons activate and end all life. My people believe all life is a cycle, much like your calendar years. Except, when we reach the end of one cycle, the Ragnarok, everything begins again, as it once was ended. So you would die at Ragnarok, then be born again at the start of the new cycle."

"Like, okay. So, like a computer, right? The hard drive got wiped, but the components are all the same. You put the same software on and everything, download the same pictures, so it looks like it's the same, but it's not?" Anthony suggested.

Loki nodded. "Very like, yes."

"Okay. Okay, I can maybe accept that," Anthony decided. "But, I mean, if the universe is just going to start right back over again, what's the point? Maybe someone will make a different decision here, but unless you remember what happened before, there's, like, a point five percent chance you'll do anything different from the first time, right? So what's the point?"

Loki shrugged. "I do not think to explain the wills of the universe."

Anthony snorted. "Yeah, sure. So who's to say this cycle is even–" He froze, comprehension crossing his features. "You," he said to Loki, stunned and questioning.

And Loki, understanding the question unasked, smiled, tired and bitter. "Can you imagine," he murmured, "knowing from the moment of your birth how you once died? Screaming, not from the pain of birth, but because the last noise you had voiced had been from the pain of having your internal organs ripped out through your belly."

"Oh my god..." Anthony whispered, curling forward over his own knees and mirroring Loki's position. "You– How much do you remember? Is it like, I don't know. Do the memories get written over by changing an event or something?"

"They are like any memories," Loki replied, shaking his head and glancing towards the glass walls by the stairs to the upper levels. "They fade with time, though the magic which gives myself a show of immortality does lessen that fading." He sighed and glanced back at the mortal. "I have lived twice, before this. During my first life I did a great many things I now find no pride in; it is those things for which I pay."

"You're not going to tell me what you did," Anthony realised with a scowl.

Loki flashed him a smile full of mischief in response.

Anthony sighed and reached out to activate one of his holograph interfaces. "So, in these other lives, I had this suit?" he asked as the image appeared, spinning silver in the air.

Loki considered the design. "That appears to be what you often called the 'Mark II'. Something about a difficulty with ice."

"Your guest is correct, Sir," JARVIS offered. "There is a high probability of ice build-up at higher altitudes, damaging functionality."

"Let's fix that," Anthony decided with a grimace. "Find a metal that won't ice."

"Gold-titanium would be a suitable replacement."

"Yeah? Show me that."

It hurt in a wonderful way to watch Anthony and JARVIS create together. The mortal had created an AI and crafted with its assistance during Loki's last life, but it hadn't been JARVIS. And it had been a great deal of time, besides, since Loki had last seen Anthony so at ease.

"Little ostentatious, don't you think?" Anthony said of the image JARVIS showed him.

"What was I thinking?" JARVIS returned in that bland tone. "You're usually so discreet."

Loki realised, with a start, that Anthony was watching him. "It could use another colour, perhaps," he allowed.

Anthony nodded. "How about a bit of green, JARVIS?"

Loki looked down at his green tunic, uncertain how to react to his once-lover deciding to use that colour. He had little doubt that Anthony would make it look good, but Iron Man had always been red and gold, and this...

"The render is complete," JARVIS announced and Loki glanced up to look at the armour that had been created. It was actually quite tasteful, in his opinion, but he'd always been biased about his preferred colour. The lack of black kept it looking overmuch like Loki's armour, and the green was a darker shade than Loki usually wore, but one would very likely be able to see the similarities, should they stand shoulder-to-shoulder in battle.

"I like it," Anthony decided, looking again at Loki. "Want to help me test the rockets?" He nodded towards where some sheets were covering a table pushed against the far wall.

Loki snorted. "At least I might keep you from killing yourself. I have seen video of the first tests; you were lucky you didn't break your neck."

Anthony hopped off his table and pointed at Loki, grin wide and excited. "Good thing I've got you here, then, Mr Power at His Fingertips."

"Good thing, indeed," Loki murmured and settled in to assist.

--

Somehow, with his teasing smiles and easy charm, Anthony managed what neither Thor nor Býleistr had in all their centuries of trying; he managed to get Loki to talk about his past lives. Which wasn't to say Thor and Býleistr hadn't got him to speak occasionally, but Loki had always kept such talk as general as possible; not so when Anthony asked. The mortal had a way of getting under Loki's skin – he always had, in truth – and the god would find himself detailing events in a way he never had before. It was as freeing as it was irritating, and Loki was certain he was falling more in love with the impossible man every time he put a crack in his carefully constructed armour.

A week after Loki had appeared in Anthony's workshop, he mentioned the arc reactor poisoning his blood in another life. JARVIS had been quick to confirm and Anthony had blanked his expression before turning to Loki and asking, "What did that other me do?"

Loki shook his head. "He never told me." Because it was easier for him to think of the many different forms of those he'd spent time with during his lives if he thought of them as separate people. "He did not trust easily – less easily than even you, I think – and I never pressed."

"Well, great," Anthony said, voice too empty to be natural. "That's a help. Thanks."

Loki pressed his lips into a tight line and refused to react to the implication as to his uselessness; three lifetimes should be enough to move past feelings of never being enough, but it really wasn't.

Never being enough, Loki realised and grabbed Anthony's arm as the mortal turned away from him. "Wait. I remember, once, being told it was an element never before seen on Mid– on Earth. Something he had to create himself, based on a map of some form his father left."

There was a spark of challenge in Anthony's eyes, then. "A map?"

Loki shrugged. "I believe that was the word used, yes."

Anthony spent the next two months searching through all of those things of his father's that he hadn't thrown out, looking for the stated map. Loki had to leave for a couple days in the middle of his search, and he returned to find Virginia yelling at her employer at how he'd all but abandoned his company.

Anthony let her rage, only paying attention because she had shoved the box he'd been going through away when he'd kept looking through it. Finally, she ended with, "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I'm looking for a map, something my father left."

"Why?" Virginia snapped.

Anthony's expression tightened for a moment, then he straightened and tapped the arc reactor hidden under his shirt. "The palladium is going to kill me, and I need a replacement. Dad supposedly left me with a map that has a new element, but–"

"Wait!" Virginia waved both her hands at him, the stack of papers she'd been holding falling, forgotten, to the floor. "It's going to what?!"

"Kill me. Metal poisoning."

Virginia looked horrified.

"I need to find the map he left, so I can make something that'll work. If you can think of any maps, anything that I might have overlooked because it's at the manor or–"

"The Stark Expo," Virginia breathed.

Anthony blinked. "Come again?"

"The– There's a three-dimensional model in your office, of the Expo," she clarified.

Anthony's eyes widened and he looked past her, to where Loki had been leaning against one wall in silence. "Can you get it? It– It's kind of huge–"

"Wha–?" Virginia started.

"It's in your office?" Loki asked and the female jumped and spun to stare at him in shock. "The one in California?"

"Yeah."

"Who is–?"

Loki teleported before Virginia could finish, appearing in Anthony's empty office. It took him but a moment to spot the model Virginia had mentioned, mounted proudly on one wall and half hidden behind a couple bookcases. A twitch of his fingers had both him and the model returned to Anthony's living room.

"–my friend," Anthony was saying, expression coolly unbending as he met Virginia's eyes. "I trust him with my life, and I'd appreciate it if you'd extend the same courtesy."

"I hardly expect such blind trust from anyone other than you, Anthony," Loki commented drily, and Virginia jumped again.

"Liar," Anthony returned without missing a beat. "You expect blind trust from your brother."

"Only one of them," Loki corrected before motioning to the model. "In your workshop?"

"Yeah, please." Anthony hurried to his feet and started towards the stairs down before Loki teleported again. It didn't take the mortal long to join him, taking a slat of the model and setting it on a table he cleared by shoving everything off one side to the floor. "I didn't tell her anything," he added quietly as Loki moved to help.

Loki glanced towards where Virginia stood, helpless, in the open doorway of the workshop. "Had I believed you would, I would not have told you."

"You never would have been able to deny this stunning visage, admit it," Anthony teased, in good humour with the promise of a cure.

"You put far too much belief in your own importance," Loki commented drily, but he was smiling as he set the last piece in place and moved back, out of the way.

"You deny that I'm awesome?"

"I deny that you're as impressive as myself."

"I'll show you impressive!" Anthony called, eyes fever bright with excitement as he turned back to the model and started giving JARVIS directions.

And Anthony did, indeed, show Loki 'impressive', manipulating 3D images like a sculptor with clay, and discovering Howard Stark's hidden message without a single misstep. It was a beautiful performance, and a part of Loki wanted to hope Anthony had acted so because of him. For him. Though, the likelihood was slim, to be honest; what had Loki done to earn Anthony's heart so far? Nothing.

Anthony needed his help setting up the workshop for creation, and Virginia was banned for safety reasons, which she accepted with good humour and an order to, "Come in tomorrow, or I'm calling in the National Guard," which Anthony had laughed off, then promptly agreed to when she picked up an abandoned blowtorch with danger in her eyes.

Only Virginia Potts can get Anthony to act in any form approaching maturity, Loki thought, amused, as she stalked from the workshop, her head held high. Jealousy or no, he would always adore that quality in his rival for Anthony's affections.

"Let's do this!" Anthony crowed and they worked in easy tandem until they had the new element, burning the colour of the Tesseract, held between them.

"It is most beautiful," Loki murmured, and he couldn't be certain if he meant the element, the man awash in the light of it, or both.

"Yeah, it is," Anthony breathed and turned away to set the triangle of light into a new casing. Then, ignoring JARVIS' cautions, he switched it for his old one. His eyes went wide and he made a surprised sound. "Uh. Wow. Tastes like coconut and... metal..."

Loki twitched at the words, memory of exotic-tasting kisses racing to the forefront of his mind. "Indeed," he managed evenly.

Anthony looked up at him, something sharp in his gaze. "Have you ever had coconut before?" he asked, an apparent non sequitur.

Loki smiled, unforced and fond, at a memory of two lifetimes past, when another Anthony had thought to teach him exactly what that impossible taste on his tongue was. "I have." He didn't much care for the taste, honestly, having found it a poor substitute for Anthony's kisses. He had very carefully avoided the fruit during his last life, having no wish to torment himself with something he could never have. And, if it was truly a by-product of this element, he wouldn't have had it even if he had kissed that Anthony.

"They have coconuts on Asgard?" Anthony wondered, oddly close.

Loki shook his head, uncertain if he wanted to back up or not. "No. Some other of your tropical fruits–"

Anthony's mouth on Loki's silenced him. He tasted coconut and the zing of a sword after battle, and Loki moaned against the mortal, reaching up to cup his face. It didn't even matter, in that moment, that Anthony could be using him as a quick fuck, because Loki had spent nearly four millennia without this mortal, and he wanted.

Anthony's mouth moved from Loki's lips, trailing fire down to his jaw and along the bone. One of Loki's hands buried in the mortal's hair, directing his lips to those spots that Loki loved best. His other hand trailed down Anthony's throat and over his shoulder, scratching a long line down his back that had the mortal arching and growling against his throat.

"Bedroom," Anthony ordered, voice rough, and Loki wasted no time in teleporting them directly onto the mortal's bed, clothing vanishing somewhere along the way. "Fuck, yes," Anthony hissed, his hands roaming along the sides of the god beneath him, blunt nails digging in at all the right spots while his mouth worried a particularly sensitive patch of skin just under the god's left ear, and Loki threw his head back and groaned.

There were no words as Anthony rutted against him, uncoordinated and perfect, hands and lips pressing into all the perfect spots without notice, and Loki dragged that sinful mouth back up to his as Anthony's hand wrapped around both their members, pumping them a little too fast, yet somehow just right.

When he came, Loki breathed, "Tony," against his mortal's lips like a benediction, and Anthony let out a whimper of pure pleasure, his hand forcefully bringing both of them through their orgasm.

After, when Anthony was held tight in Loki's arms on the bed, the mortal said, "I'm sorry."

Loki tensed. "Why?" he asked with forced calm, biting down on the need to plead, Please don't send me away, please don't break my heart.

One of Anthony's hands came up to stroke over Loki's heart, the top of his head knocking the god's chin as he leaned up enough to meet eyes. The brown orbs were dark, now, with experiences he had never lived, and he said, "For pushing you away, last time."

Loki reached up and cupped his mortal's cheek, breath catching at the familiar way Anthony nuzzled his palm. "You didn't push me away," he whispered.

Anthony closed his eyes, ashamed. "Pep and I... we've always been friends first. You know that." He'd explained as such in their first life, trying to make Loki – who had been angry and just looking for a quick fuck, at the time – understand why he had broken up with his girlfriend of two years. "Last time, it was the same. We'd dated, briefly, during one of the times you were gone. Your mysteries of eternal youth."

Loki smiled sadly, remembering well what the ex-Avengers had joked about him always leaving. "I had a realm to rule," he whispered.

Anthony nodded, ducking his face more fully against Loki's palm. "I'd always been attracted to you, from the moment I realised what attraction was, would jerk off to thoughts of you in the dark," he admitted quietly, and Loki's hand spasmed against his nose. "But, Loki, you were immortal, were forever young, and always gone. I thought it would hurt too much, to be forever waiting for someone who always looked the same while I turned grey and died. So I asked Pep to marry me, and we made it work, because I couldn't–" He let out a choked noise, and liquid leaked against Loki's palm. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Anthony," Loki breathed, and he pulled the mortal down for a kiss, forgiving and wet on both their parts. Because they could have had this a lifetime ago, but for fear of time. "My Anthony. Sweet, wonderful Anthony." He wiped his thumbs under the mortal's eyes until they opened to look at him again, water like diamonds framing that familiar brown. "I love you," Loki whispered. "Four thousand years and on until I am no longer so cursed; I. Love. You."

Anthony let out a sound that was laugh and sob, and he nudged their noses together. "I love you more," he said, an old joke started during a particularly nasty argument when they first realised they were more than just enemies fucking on the side.

"I love you most," Loki responded.

"I love you forever." And it wasn't in the script, but it settled between them like it had been there all along; a silent promise fulfilled even beyond the end of all life.

And Loki realised, that if this cycle would be his last to remember, he would die happy, because it was everything he'd been searching for over nearly six millennia.

The Ragnarok Series:
Part One: Haunt Me ~ Loki
Part Two: Still Carrying the Past
Part Three: Death's Kiss

..

Comments

[mizstorge.livejournal.com]

...too incoherent with squee to intelligibly comment right now. As you know, I am an utter sap for True Love. More later, after my brain re-solidifies,

[noagirl.livejournal.com]

Oh, crap. Are we going to have to spoon it back into your cranium?

♥♥♥♥♥

[mizstorge.livejournal.com]

Just about.

Among other things I admire here, is the amount of conviction in your writing . You have me believing in Loki's diplomacy, in his affection for the various other characters, in his ability to say "I'm sorry" with true regret. He's still a trickster, but hat gift of precious time has brought him much more depth.

This really shows that love requires courage and tenacity. They were truly lucky to have been gifted by Mistress Death.

[noagirl.livejournal.com]

XD ♥♥♥

And thank you for reminding me, I should go reread that one-shot about Death, now I've slept on it, and post it.