Tony is fast asleep when he feels a kick to his leg.
He tries to ignore it.
Then he gets kicked again.
Tony sighs and rolls over, and he finds that he and Loki have both moved a little further into the middle of the bed throughout the night. He moves back a few inches to offset that. He squints his eyes, too tired to open them fully, and watches Loki for a few moments.
Loki twitches and his leg kicks out again, just barely missing Tony's. He whines softly, rolling over so his face falls against the pillow. He twitches again, and his whole body convulses, curling in on himself.
Tony groans. Well, this is what he's here for.
He reaches over and grabs Loki's shoulder, shaking him back and forth. "Hey, Loki. Wake up."
"Mm," Loki hums. He groans softly rolls onto his side and his eyes flutter open. "Sorry," he mumbles. "Bad dream."
"I figured," Tony mutters. "JARVIS, what time is it?"
"It is almost eight o'clock, sir," JARVIS answers obediently.
Tony groans and closes his eyes again. "I'm going back to sleep."
"I would rather not," Loki tells him. "What should I do while you sleep?"
"I don't care," Tony mumbles. "Whatever you want. Just don't leave the building."
The bed creaks quietly as Loki sits up. "I don't know my way around the tower."
"Then stay here. I don't care. Let me sleep."
There's a pause, then the bed creaks again as he lies back down.
Tony pulls his blanket close and readjusts his position, getting comfortable yet again. Okay, back to sleep.
A minute or so passes.
"Stark?" Loki says quietly. "Is this your water bottle?"
"You can have it."
"Thank you," Loki whispers.
The bed creaks again as Loki gets up. Tony slips a pillow out from under himself and shoves it over his ear. He might come to regret this in the morning – or whenever he gets up – but right now, he doesn't care what Loki gets up to as long as he leaves Tony alone. He's too goddamn tired for this.
~~~
When Tony wakes up again, it's not Loki who's touching him unnecessarily.
It's the other way around.
He finds himself with his head on Loki's shoulder, his arm thrown lazily across his chest, and their legs tangled up together. There is absolutely nothing more energizing than waking up in this position. He sits up immediately, moving all the way back to the other side of the bed and leaning against the wall, his legs pulled into his chest.
And, of course, Loki's awake through it all, watching Tony with a brow raised and an unreadable expression on his face.
Tony rubs the sleep from his eyes. "How long have you been up?" Not the whole time, he hopes.
"A while," Loki says. "I cannot see the clock from here. I imagine no more than an hour."
Tony looks over his shoulder at the clock on his bedside table. It's just barely past noon. He's not sure when Loki went back to bed, but he'd like to think it means he got a decent night's sleep. Otherwise, this whole arrangement was a waste of time and effort.
"And how long was I lying on top of you like a dead fish?" Tony asks.
The question earns a small smile from him. "Nearly as long as I've been awake."
Tony scoffs. "And at no point did you think 'Hey, maybe I should move him off of me?'"
Loki shrugs sheepishly. "I thought I would let you sleep. You seemed tired."
Well, next time, don't.
Tony catches himself before he says it. There's not supposed to be a next time. Loki seems fine. There's no reason Thor shouldn't waltz right in here right now to take his brother home. By the end of the day at least, he expects to be sending Loki off to Asgard — and hopefully to some kind of salvation.
And there's that little nagging reminder in the back of his brain. He might be sending Loki off to his death. He hates that. And knowing what he does, however little it is, he's not sure he could go through with it. He's not sure he could let Loki take the punishment for something he didn't want to do. Not when he's already punishing himself for it.
Tony lets out a long breath. That's a battle for later, whenever Thor comes back. There are other things to focus on right now. "How'd you sleep?"
"The best I have in a long time," Loki answers.
"No more nightmares?" Tony asks.
"I do not mind nightmares," Loki tells him. "But that was all they were. Nothing real."
"It's never real," Tony reminds him. "That's what a nightmare is. It's fake. It's all in your head."
Loki just shakes his head. "Not those."
Tony frowns, but he's already learned that this is a battle he can't win, so he doesn't even try. Moving on to a different subject, he asks, "How's your head?"
"Alright," Loki says."Merely a dull ache now. It's become easy to ignore."
"That's a good sign," Tony remarks. "You hungry?"
Loki cracks a smile at that. "Starved."
"Good," Tony says. He arches his back, stretching it out before he climbs out of bed. "I'm thinking muffins. You like muffins?"
"I do like muffins," Loki says.
"Alright, we're having muffins," Tony declares. He'll go back to normal, boring breakfasts once Loki goes back to Asgard. As long as he has company, he's using it as an excuse to ignore his boxes of cereal.
They head to the kitchen together, and the few times he glances back at Loki, he seems to be in fairly high spirits. It's nice to see.
Tony assumes Loki will sit down when they get to the kitchen, but instead, he watches as Tony pulls out the recipe book — a gift from Pepper, and one he very much appreciates — and flips through until he finds the muffin page. He should have told Pepper to bring him blueberries yesterday. Chocolate chip muffins are better in theory, but they always end up so dry. He should google if there's a way to fix that one day.
He scans the ingredients list, then starts pulling things out. Crisco; sugar; baking soda; flour; salt. He's getting good at finding things. He feels like he's lived here forever. He can hardly believe this is still a relatively new tower.
As he's mixing everything together, Loki says, "You're good at this."
Tony raises a brow. "Good at making muffins?"
"Yes."
Tony huffs a laugh. "They're just muffins. It's not that hard." He looks over at the god. "What, you've never made muffins before?"
"Princes are not usually allowed in the kitchen," Loki tells him.
"Oh, please." Tony rolls his eyes. "You're a prince. Who's gonna tell you no?"
"It's more of an unspoken rule," Loki says. "It was endearing when I was young. As I got older, it only made the kitchen staff wary."
"Mm, guess I can't blame them," Tony says. It would be like the president looking over his shoulder while he worked — which he wouldn't mind because he doesn't get flustered easily, but an ordinary person? He would imagine that would be uncomfortable. "You wanna help?"
Loki's eyes light up at the question. "I would love to help."
Tony opens the fridge and pulls out his carton of eggs, which he promptly hands over. "We need two of these." He pulls out a small glass Pyrex bowl and puts it on the counter for him. "Get cracking."
One would think that having Loki's help would make the baking process go by quicker. It doesn't. Tony gets too distracted watching him try to crack eggs that he doesn't actually get anything done in the meantime.
Loki cracks the egg on the edge of the counter, then splits the shell over the bowl. He tosses the eggshell in the trash, then looks down at the bowl, a frown on his lips. He sticks a finger in, swirling it around a little, but whatever he's trying to do, it doesn't seem to be working. He juts his jaw forward, annoyed, and tries one last time, and when that doesn't work, he gives up and takes his finger out.
With his gaze glued to the bowl, he narrows his eyes slightly. At first, it seems like nothing is happening, until finally, a little piece of shell floats out of it. Loki catches it on his finger and flicks it in the trash.
"God, I wish I was magic," Tony mutters.
Loki cracks a smile at that. "It truly does make life easier."
Loki sets about cracking the other egg and Tony attempts to return to his own part of the work, but he finds himself really enjoying watching him. He just looks so happy. And when Tony tells him to do the flour next, he doesn't hesitate to listen, measuring it out meticulously and scraping the excess off with the dull side of a knife.
Tony makes a point of working incredibly slowly to give Loki more to do, and he loves every moment of it. It's kind of ridiculous, but it's cute, too. There's a childlike wonder in his eye that Tony wouldn't have expected from him.
When the muffins are done, Tony slips them in the oven, and now, there's nothing to do but wait.
And dishes.
But that's a problem for future him.
"Stark," Loki says cautiously.
"Hmm?" Tony hums.
"How long have I been here?"
"Uh..." Tony's gaze falls to the ceiling as he tries to figure that out. When did he try to take over New York? What's the date today? "A week? I think? Give or take a day or two."
Loki furrows his brows. "Are you sure?"
"I'm pretty sure," Tony says. "Somewhere in that range. Why?"
"It feels..." He frowns, discouraged. "It feels as though much longer has passed, but also like I've only been here two or three days. It's strange."
Tony shrugs. "Time's a funky thing," he says dismissively. "I'd be disoriented, too, if I was living in a room with no windows and no clock and refusing to sleep for a week straight."
"Mm." Loki thinks about that for a few moments. "I suppose that could..." He presses his lips into a straight line. "I don't remember coming here."
"What?"
"I don't remember coming here," Loki says again. "I don't remember when it was or what happened. I don't know how long I've been here because I don't remember coming here at all."
Tony furrows his brows. "Thor brought you here."
"I know," Loki says. "You told me that. But I don't remember it. I don't know how I got here or when. It's a strange feeling; one I'm not overly fond of."
Tony frowns. He'd already pieced this together, but he hadn't expected Loki to admit it. He's not sure where to go from here. "What do you remember?"
Loki shakes his head helplessly. "I don't know."
Tony stares at him. "You don't know what you remember."
"What do you remember?" Loki counters. "How would you answer that? I remember what I remember and I don't what I don't."
"And you don't remember how you got here," Tony says.
Loki shakes his head. "I haven't the slightest idea."
Tony folds his arms across his chest.
Well.
That's a problem.
"You told me that we're waiting for Thor," Loki says slowly. "Did you tell me where he is now?"
"Asgard," Tony says. "You weren't in good shape. He didn't want to bring you on the Bifrost 'til you got better."
"I feel alright now," Loki says. "Why hasn't he come for me?"
Tony shrugs. "I don't know. He's probably busy." Admittedly, he is getting a little wary about how long this is taking for him to come back, but there's nothing he can do but wait. He'll be here when he gets here.
"What do you think will happen when he comes back?" Loki asks.
Tony shakes his head. "No idea."
"I imagine he'll still be mad at me," Loki says.
"Probably," Tony admits. "But you can try to talk to him."
Loki hesitates "My family has never been very good with open communication."
"It can't be that bad."
"I found out only months ago that I was stolen from Asgard's enemies and that I share not an ounce of blood with my family."
Tony stares at him. "Oh."
"Nobody told me this," Loki adds. "I found it out myself. In the midst of a battle against the people of the realm I hail from."
Tony's brows shoot up. "You're joking."
"I confronted my father about it," Loki continues. "After much prompting, he answered two or three questions, then fell into the Odinsleep. That was the end of that conversation."
Tony scoffs. "You have to be joking," he says. "Tell me you're joking."
Loki shakes his head. "My family does not talk," he says. "We never have."
"God, no wonder you're like this," Tony mutters.
Loki crosses his arms. "And what do you mean by that?"
"You won't talk to me," Tony says.
"We're talking at this very moment."
Tony rolls his eyes. That's a smartass response if he's ever heard one. "You won't talk to me about anything real."
Loki frowns. "I would say I've been very honest with you."
"If you were being honest, you'd tell me who you were working for."
Loki furrows his brows, his frown deepening. "I beg your pardon?"
"Who were you working for?" Tony asks again. "What did he do to you? How'd he get you to do it?"
"I'm sorry, I don't—" Loki cocks his head to the side. "I don't work for anybody."
"You were," Tony says. "I don't know who, but I know that you were."
"No, I was not," Loki insists. "Everything I've done, I did alone. I apologize if that's not what you wanted to hear, but I've told you everything."
Tony just looks at him for a few moments, trying to gauge his sincerity, but he really does seem to be telling the truth. But he's not. Tony knows that he's not. He knows there was somebody else in charge and that Loki didn't want to do any of this. So why won't he admit it?
Loki sighs. "I don't want to argue.
Tony sighs, too. "Alright," he concedes. "We can talk about this later."
"I don't particularly want to do that, either," Loki says. "There is nothing to talk about. Whatever you think I'm hiding from you, I'm not. I have nothing more to tell you."
Tony eyes him skeptically. "Okay," he says slowly. "But if there is something you're not telling me—"
"There's not."
"If there is," Tony interrupts, "you know you can tell me anything."
Loki gives him a small smile. "I know."