Chapter Text
For most of Loki’s life, the passage of time had been something he’d never truly noticed. The Aesir rarely acknowledged it. They marked the decades and centuries, not individual years. But on one ordinary, unremarkable day, he’d been walking through a Midgardian street when everything had changed.
He’d always liked to visit the mortals, returning every few centuries to observe the changes to their world and technology. He hadn’t found anything interesting this time and had been readying himself to return to Asgard when he’d heard it.
“Loki!”
His name, shouted above a crowd, from a voice he had not known.
He'd turned, confused as a handsome man with tousled brown hair and ill-fitting clothing ran up to him. He looked more rumpled than the others wandering the street, denoting a lack of funds or a rough day.
“God, I’m glad to see you.”
He then smiled. The genuine pleasure and relief brightening the features of his unfamiliar face. But more than that it was his statement which caught Loki off guard. It was so utterly foreign to hear such a phrase from anyone’s lips, even his family.
“And who are you?” He questioned, perplexed yet intrigued.
The man winced, looking sheepish and even frustrated.
“Shit. Right. Time travel. Fuck.” He reached out, grabbing Loki’s jacket as if he had no fear of reprisal or a dagger—as if the man’s only concern was that he might disappear. “Please don’t teleport. I’m Tony and I swear I know you. Well, future you. I’m stuck here. Please, I need your help.”
Time-travel had never been Loki’s forte nor had it been a magic he liked to go anywhere near due to the complicated and destructive outcomes that could come from a single mistake – but: ‘God, I’m glad to see you’.
The man meant it. Whoever this Tony was, he was genuinely happy to see him. And so, it kept Loki from leaving or pulling away.
“You had best explain your situation to me in greater depth.”
“Absolutely. You got a place here, Lokes? Or just passing through? I sort of have a… well it’s a dive, but it’s got my notes but most of it’s in my head. Do you know how hard it is to buy things when your currency was mostly digital? Even the bit of cash I had doesn’t even exist and-”
“I have lodgings,” Loki interrupted, vaguely amused but mostly curious.
Lokes.
Another oddity, but one said so unthinkingly as if it was a common contraction of his name. A common intimacy.
“Course you do, you’ve always said how much you like a good spot, and how you hate letting Thor pick your taverns.”
He followed it with a grin, as if it was a shared joke, but Loki narrowed his eyes; suspicious the way he always was when someone sought him for a conversation only to bring up Thor.
“Then you know him as well?”
“Sure do. Nice guy, great at punching things.” The man fidgeted. “Look, I totally get you’re curious. You always are. But I’d rather talk about being stuck back in time? And your awesome magic and how it can help me get back? Yeah? Please?”
Loki was surprised again.
It was natural that the man would wish to return to an original timeline, and be afraid of disrupting the past, but a dismissal of Thor and a praise to his magic in one sentence? It was rare, nigh unheard of. It also seemed genuine rather than an act of manipulation. The man had said it as openly and unthinkingly as ‘Lokes’.
But it could still be a trick.
Despite having no enemies on Midgard, nor having told anyone of his travel plans. He had not lived so long and gained so few scars by being foolish. Innate wariness found him giving a cursory and subtle examination of the man with seidr. Tony was saturated in time magic, confirming his story, but what could have knocked Loki over was the numerous protection spells layered into his being.
Protection spells he had crafted. Future him. The man was incredibly well warded. But even more shocking was another spell among the others; something with no protective purpose. It was nothing but a beacon, one carved specifically for him. It was a signature, a marker and it plainly said: yes, we, Loki Odinson protect him.
His future self had made certain that he would know it was true.
“Ah, Lokes?” Tony asked. “You okay? You’re doing that far-off magic-search thing.”
Loki startled. He also, for one of the few times in his life, felt lost for words. None save his mother had ever been able to read him so easily.
How close are we? Shield-brothers? Friends, perhaps? More?
Loki wanted to know, but due to the nature of the magic and the fabric of time itself, he couldn’t. But he could help.
“I think we should speak in private,” Loki insisted, his gaze flicking to the side; the mortals nearby were starting to grow curious.
“Right. Good idea. Lead the way.”
Tony continued to smile as he said it - continued to touch. He still acted as if it was a right that he had long held and had no concerns about continuing. Loki had never believed he could ever be so familiar with anyone – and yet, the proof seemed to stand before him.
And so, he accepted what his seidr was telling him: he led the man in the direction of the building he’d let upon Midgard, ready and willing to assist him.
Upon arriving at his lodgings, he and Tony settled in the sitting room. He dismissed the servants that had come with the house and poured them each a glass of Midgardian wine. Tony seemed amused by the whole thing.
“Is something entertaining?” He asked, handing the man his glass.
“Nothing. Just, the tables really have turned now, haven’t they?”
Loki frowned. “How so?”
“Nothing. Shit. Nevermind. I shouldn’t be saying anything at all.”
Of course, just because they both recognised that, it quickly became obvious that Tony wasn’t particularly good at maintaining it.
At first, the man had merely recounted what had happened to him: “Wrong place at the wrong time, if you can believe it. Couple of kids playing with magic when I’m visiting England and bang, here I am. I’m too early to even meet Rogers or my old man. Not that I’m complaining, don’t really want to be in Europe in a few decades.”
He’d also tapped near his chest, explaining the armour that had come with him but, due to timelines, he’d kept it hidden since arriving. Loki had been interested as to what kind of forging the mortal was capable of and just how he disguised it, but had refrained from asking the many questions on his mind.
(And wasn’t that peculiar? Loki rarely found anyone so intriguing, and were he to anticipate anyone capturing his interest he would have expected an elf, not a being that lived only a scant few decades.)
With the majority of his situation explained in the first half hour, Tony had then activated a device on his wrist which had projected some information into the air. He’d shown Loki the readings he’d taken of the spells, how far back they’d flung him and what he was already theorising could return him to his correct timeline. Loki had listened quietly, continually impressed by the device and the man’s understanding of seidr.
Sipping on his second glass, he’d commented, “You are very knowledgeable for a non-practitioner.”
Tony flashed a grin.
“Well, it helps that I had a great teacher.”
“Oh?” Loki enquired, interested to know how commonplace the craft had become on Midgard. “Who taught you?”
While he could not be certain he would know their name, he wondered if some elf had settled upon the planet and had taken on curious students. He’d taught a few on Alfheim; perhaps one of his students had left their home world?
Tony looked amused as if he had alighted on a fine joke.
“Oh, I don’t know. You.”
“Me?”
“In case it wasn’t obvious, Lokes, we’re pretty good friends.”
A mystifying concept, but one that Loki was forced to concede was becoming more obvious with every interaction and time spent in the man’s presence. The mortal knew him. At one point, Loki had mentioned an argument he’d had with one of his tutors about time spells and Tony had known it. He’d chimed in: “Yeah, I thought about that. But although that guy was an asshole for always bitching out your illusions, he did have a point when it came to the methodology of timeline manipulation.”
Loki had been routinely left to simply stare at the mortal.
The man had a shrewd mind capable of twisting well-trodden concepts and invigorating them. He’d also continually made Loki laugh; easily and without any true effort. He’d flashed relaxed, unguarded smiles and had continued to shove Loki’s shoulder or lean into his personal space.
By the time the dawn light had started creeping into the room, highlighting the empty wine glasses and scribbled notes, Loki had felt as if he could spend a full decade on this one topic alone and never grow bored.
Unfortunately, the mortal had already been yawning and so, he’d been the one to encourage the man to walk with him to one of the guest rooms. They had paused beside the door and Tony had given him a thoroughly grateful smile. He’d then grasped Loki’s arm tightly.
“I really am so fucking glad you’re here, Lokes.”
Rather than allow Loki a moment to respond, he’d done the unfathomable and hugged him. Loki had startled but hadn’t pulled away. Perhaps he should have; had it been any other he would have, but the act had been too… nice. Their whole association so far had left him confused but… pleased. After so many decades without a true companion, having such easy affection and intimacy given freely and genuinely left him willing to lower his guard.
This man knew him. This man liked him. This man was protected just as thoroughly as Loki protected himself.
There was so much to unravel and such little information available to him. And although he’d wanted to indulge in such a casual but honest act of affection, he’d gently pushed the mortal away and sent him to bed.
He'd returned to his own rooms, but stayed up another hour, turning everything over in his mind as he watched the sun rise from the window in his room, overlooking the courtyard. Although the mortal had been affectionate with him; treating him as a long-lost companion, he was not the man that Tony knew. He was not the friend of the future with years of history shared between them—but, he had to wonder, what precluded him from becoming a friend of the past?
The next afternoon, he’d been a little more prepared for the man. His servants however, less so. They’d been quickly scandalised when the mortal had risen after midday, changed into his previous day’s ware and refused any assistance.
Loki had heard the commotion and watched with barely refrained amusement from the hallway. Tony, it appeared, had no intention of taking the formality or rituals of the time seriously. He’d eventually been the one to send the servants to attend to other tasks before taking Tony to the breakfast room.
“I grew up rich,” Tony explained without prompting, going directly for the coffee pot. “The standards here are a bit much even for me. I don’t do valets.”
“I had thought you would wish to fit in and draw as little attention to yourself as possible?”
“I’m going to do things wrong no matter how hard I try. I’m aiming to be seen as eccentric and shocking.”
He poured the liquid and took a long, adoring sip, seeming to ascend to Valhalla with every mouthful. When he'd half-finished, Tony finally seemed to remember the conversation and focused back on Loki.
“And,” he continued, “if I’m playing the part of someone of low birth and little income, I’m more likely to be overlooked.” He shrugged. “And someone like that won’t enjoy being waited on.”
“I suppose you are correct,” Loki allowed.
“Besides I’m hoping that now that you’re here we can send me back within the week.”
Loki raised an eyebrow. “A week?”
“Maybe two. You and I have never met a problem we haven’t been able to solve.”
“I admire your confidence.”
Tony topped up his cup while grinning. “When it comes to magic, I’m going to bet on you any day, Reindeer Games.”
Reindeer Games?
Despite the peculiar term, Loki sensed nothing but fond teasing. That, combined with the compliment, had Loki barely repressing his smile.
“Flattery will not win you any favours. I have already agreed to help you.”
Tony’s smile never wavered but his expression softened. “I only give compliments when they’re well earned. You’ll have to learn to take them.”
Not an act I am familiar with, he wished to say, but the words caught on his tongue.
If the man knew him, which it seemed he did, he would be aware of the difficulties he had experienced in Asgard. And while he could still deny the man’s words, he did not wish to ruin their easy companionship. He also found, rather unexpectedly, that he actually did believe the man was genuine.
“I shall endeavour to do so,” he finally demurred. “For now, you should eat and then we can begin attempting to return you to your rightful time.”
“Can’t we do both?”
“If you insist,” Loki agreed.
He rang the nearby bell while Tony continued to inhale his drink as if he had been without it for months. Loki hid another smile in his own coffee as he watched, his gaze lingering on the man’s expressive, handsome features and the muscled form not even the workman’s clothing could hide.
He had always had a type and this mortal did fit it so incredibly well. It was a wonder that they had only remained friends.
But then, perhaps he is not the kind to like a man?
He could have felt disappointed, but frankly, it was too difficult to speculate. There was a history of friendship between them that he had no knowledge of; whatever they had ended up becoming, he could only guess and to change it now would be a fruitless act.
And yet, with someone who seemed so perfect in front of him, Loki could not help but wonder.
Of course, speculating about his relationship with Tony was not his priority, getting the man home was what he needed to focus on - and Tony was incessant about uncovering the solution.
The man worked furiously, writing with messy ink and asking question after question. He also complained under his breath about the technology he did not have.
“Fucking Dark Ages. I’m never complaining about slow connections again. God, I’ll even cut Dum-E some slack. How did people function back here?”
Loki, used to a quill and parchment, found the Midgardian pen and paper similar and quite acceptable, but apparently, in the future, Tony had much different methods of depicting his experiments.
Despite the man’s obvious disapproval of their implements, they worked non-stop throughout the day and, just as before, Loki could not recall ever working so easily with another, nor had he ever experienced such undivided, approving attention whenever he discussed a magical theory.
It was invigorating - but even they could not work indefinitely.
With some insistence, and much grumbling from the mortal, they had stopped for dinner. They'd retired to the dining room and, after dismissing the servants, they had been able to converse freely. While a meal had been advisable, it had not been Loki's only reason for ceasing their activities, because although he had enjoyed every minute of their day, there was only so much he could do with such limited resources.
“Time magic has never been my area,” he advised.
Tony nodded absently, spearing a piece of meat with one hand as he flipped through a tome Loki had summoned with the other.
“I will need to reference different texts,” he continued. “Asgard has a few, but Alfheim would be even more useful. I’m certain if I speak to mother about the predicament she will go to Alfheim in my steed while I return back here.”
Tony glanced at him and Loki paused, frowning at the strange expression. He did not know the man well enough to read him perfectly, and yet, the look stood out all the more because Tony had not been guarded around him. It made his sudden reservation more obvious.
“Is there a problem?” he enquired.
“Nope.”
Tony looked back at the text, taking a sip of wine, but every movement seemed too self-conscious and measured. Loki watched him, trying to puzzle out the reasoning. But there really was only one answer.
“Something about what I said unsettled you.”
“Sooo,” Tony said, “when you go, I might head out too. At my dive there’s-”
“You’re avoiding the topic.”
Tony finally looked back at him, his expression firm and yet his gaze almost… sad?
“And you know prying is a bad idea,” he said quietly. “Even if there were things that I wanted to say, I couldn’t.”
Loki’s frown deepened. He didn’t like feeling excluded, he also didn’t like imagining there was something in the future to make Tony so ill at ease. Because he was uncomfortable. He even seemed regretful – but for what reason? What could happen in a hundred years that would make Tony look at him so… compassionately?
As much as he wanted to puzzle it out, Loki knew he would gain no answers from Tony and that, as much as he disliked it, he would not be able to simply solve the mystery. He, like anyone else caught in such a situation, simply had to wait.
“I understand,” Loki grudgingly admitted.
Tony smiled but it still didn’t look quite right. He turned back to his food, poking at the last few pieces on the plate.
“So, uh, when will you leave?”
“In the morning,” Loki answered, trying to shake off his discontent. “I will advise the servants that you are my guest and may come and go as you please.”
“Thanks,” Tony answered. “Like I said, I might head back to where I’ve been camping. See what I can salvage and,” he sighed, “what’s been stolen.”
Loki frowned. “You think there will be theft?”
Tony chuckled. “Lokes. Look at me,” he gestured at his clothing, “do you really think I’ve been living anywhere other than the slums?”
Loki’s gaze ran over what he could see of the mortal; he could not ignore the ill-kept clothing, but he also saw further; the many attractive qualities hidden underneath the man’s hastily actioned dress. Because, Tony had only been in the past a scant week. Having managed even half of what he had proved a level of resourcefulness and intelligence that Loki could not help finding attractive. It stood out far more than his somewhat scruffy beard and threadbare attire.
“I see,” Loki said. He cleared his throat and forced his gaze away. “With that in mind, we had best gain you proper attire while you remain in this time.”
Tony chuckled making Loki glance back at him. The mortal was smiling again, looking amused for reasons Loki couldn’t deduce. But his confusion must have shown as the mortal said, “Sorry, just seems ironic hearing you of all people say I have to blend in.”
Loki frowned. “How so?” he glanced at his suit. “I am donning Midgardian ware.”
“Oh yeah, right now you are. In the future? You prefer Asgardian chic. You always bitch a moan if I tell you to put on a suit.” He shook his head. “Don’t get why you cause such a fuss. You’re good looking in anything.” Loki stared at the man, but he seemed oblivious or uncaring over the compliment. He had the last of his wine before asking. “Hey, you happen to have any scotch?”
“I believe so,” Loki murmured, trying not to show how thrown he still was by the man.
Tony stood. “Yeah? Anywhere here?” He looked around before quickly sighing. “Let me guess; in the study, waiting to be poured by the servants?”
I could send them away for the night, Loki wanted to say, but held his tongue.
He was not oblivious to the social conventions of the time, and, most particularly, the disdain for men to take lovers among their own sex. His current actions of taking a strange, badly-kept man off the street and insisting on dining and spending time with him privately was already sure to insight rumours.
The only saving grace was that he had not taken the man anywhere near a bed chamber and the few times servants had knocked to enter, they had never been in any way compromised. While he did not care for the scandals or rumours of a few mortals, his relationship with Tony was… complicated. He still had not divined exactly what it was nor if the man had the same prejudices of the current Midgardian time.
Another reason to loathe such magics.
It was an incredibly frustrating business to have met someone so intrinsic to his future, but so foreign to his present.
“Think you could get rid of them for the night?” Tony asked, mirroring his earlier thought. “Not like we can talk about magic much if they keep lingering nearby.” He frowned at the door. “And while I’m sure you’re silencing us, I still expect at least a few of them to have ears to the doors.”
Each statement once again proved how well the man knew him. He did have magic protecting their conversations, the same layering spells that warded his rooms on Asgard and kept him from Heimdall’s eye.
“I am warding us,” he allowed.
“Awesome,” Tony said, flashing a grin. “Then let’s get some scotch and some peace and quiet.”
He came around the table and held out his hand; so absent and innocent. Loki wanted to accept but he found the whole situation so wholly unusual that he finally could not hold his tongue.
“We are close in the future?”
“Uh, yeah. Really good friends, why?”
Loki looked pointedly at the man’s hand and then met his puzzled gaze once more.
“I am not prone to allowing others close to me,” Loki explained, “and yet, you act with far more familiarity than even my family would dare. I find it… odd.”
“Oh,” Tony breathed. He frowned and lowered his hand. “I didn’t… shit.” He winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry.”
“I did not ask for an apology, merely an explanation.”
Tony shrugged helplessly. “There’s not much I can say. I’m affectionate with my close friends, and you, well, you look the same. Sure, your hair is shorter and you’re in different clothes but you’re still Loki. I’m just used to you not minding me in your space.”
Which was what made it all so strange.
Of course, there is time magic to consider…
“Did I always welcome you into my space?” Loki enquired.
Tony frowned. “Well, I mean, it took a few months for us to really be friends, but once that happened, yeah, you did.”
Loki nodded. “Perhaps this is something of a paradox.”
Tony blinked before realisation crested his features. “You knew me before I knew you. Because of this,” he gestured between them, “you were used to me getting into your space. So, it just… happened.”
Loki inclined his head. “It is a natural conclusion.”
“Natural,” Tony scoffed. “Fucking time magic.”
Loki chuckled. He also rose. It left them closer than Loki had intended. Tony tilted his head to look up at him, and Loki felt a stirring of desire. He could cup the man’s cheek easily. Kiss him with barely a shift in position – but Loki knew that was far beyond what he could do. He stepped back instead.
"Let us get the scotch you requested. Then, if you wish, we can continue our search or perhaps an evening of relaxation might do us better? There are only so many tomes I have access to that deal with time magic."
“Yeah,” Tony murmured. “Suppose your pocket dimension rarely holds stuff to deal with this.” Loki inclined his head and Tony sighed. “But, I mean, what are we going to do if we’re not researching? Conversations will be a god damn minefield.”
Loki considered the situation; what they might both find engaging and what they could reasonably manage in the current time while remaining within his lodgings. He quickly alighted on an idea.
“Perhaps if there was a means of distraction; do you know of billiards?”
Tony blinked, he then slowly grinned. “You have a table?”
“This house does.”
“Scotch and billiards? Now we’re really living like the aristocratic English. Lead the way, Lokes.”
It was only as Loki was directing the man out of the room that his mind caught on the shape of Tony’s smile, there was something about it that seemed almost… cunning.