"So. Last night."

Loki didn't reply. He was dressed now, his bruises covered by a layer of linen and leather, and rather than lying on his bed, he was standing at the edge of his cell. When Tony had entered, he had looked up, met his gaze for a moment, and then looked away. Now he was standing with his arms folded across his chest, staring resolutely at the floor.

"I'm, uh. Sorry. I guess. I don't know," Tony went on. He wasn't used to this. He didn't even know what he wanted to say. "I just-" He broke off with a frustrated gesture. The ghost of a smirk passed across Loki's face.

"What are you here for, Stark?" he said, and when he looked up, Tony was struck by how green his eyes were.

"I don't know."

For a moment, the two of them were silent. Tony turned, paced a little way around the room, letting his fingers run over the wall. He noticed a smudge of blood on the concrete, and winced.

He heard a rustle, and when he turned, Loki was sitting on the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees, watching him.

"The others don't know what to do with you," Tony said conversationally, looking away, because, damn, those eyes. "Bruce wants to keep you here. Fairly sure the hawk wants to have you executed."

Loki laughed to himself.

"They could try," he said bluntly. "Whether they would succeed is another matter entirely."

His tone was light, but there was something off about the way he spoke, something hollow, and after a moment the smile faded from his face.

"I know," he said, quietly, bitterly. "They will find a suitably imaginative way to punish me or imprison me, some cage or another, and rightly so. And then, given time, I will escape my chains, commit some atrocity, and the cycle will begin again."

"Or you could just…not." Tony said. Loki looked up sharply.

"And what?" he snapped. "Give up, spend the rest of my life languishing in chains?"

"Yeah," Tony said, leaning back, jutting his chin out defiantly, as if to ward off the viciousness in Loki's voice. "Or you could just swallow your damn pride and ask."

"For what?" Loki said, and his tone was mocking. "Forgiveness? Love? I'm sure your coworkers will be most inclined to humour me. What is this, Stark? A reconciliation? An attempt at romance?"

"Yeah, 'cause last night was so damn romantic," Tony shot back. "No, regardless of…whatever the hell that was, you could just ask. Ask Rogers to let you stay here. Hell, ask Thor to take you back to Asgard. You're the best damn actor I've ever met, I'm sure you can convince them. You don't have to play the fucking villain, you know?" He paused. "Uh, although with Hawkeye it's really gonna take some convincing."

"And what, pray, should I ask for?" Loki said quietly.

Tony shrugged. "Whatever you want."

Loki made a helpless gesture, and Tony was suddenly struck by how goddamn pointless this conversation was. Because what was Loki going to ask for, at the end of the day? What was left for him? Not Asgard. Not Earth. He probably didn't have a damn clue what he wanted.

For a long time, Loki just stared at the floor.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admitted at last, very quietly.

Tony snorted, and went to sit next to him. Loki shifted away, refused to look at him.

"Hey," he said. "Hey, listen." Loki turned his head away, so Tony - ignoring the sarcastic voice in the back of his head that was howling with laughter at the sheer goddamn melodrama of it all, because goddamn it, this is like some crappy romantic film, isn't it - reached out and cupped his face, forcing him to turn back and look at him. Even then, Loki wouldn't meet his gaze, but Tony went on regardless. "You don't have to know what you want. Hell, you could come back to the lab, spend a few weeks playing with equations with me and Banner. Just…buy yourself some goddamn time. At least then you get a say in what happens." He ran his eyes over Loki's face, trying to ignore how bizarre it was, the two of them, sitting here, looking for all the world like a goddamn couple- "And, uh, about last night," he went on (Christ, this is awkward). "I, uh, I don't know what that was, or, or what we were doing-"

"Oh, I think you were quite aware of what we were doing," Loki said dryly, and Tony snorted.

"Whatever it was, I, uh, I don't mind." Loki raised his eyebrows. "I mean, it's just - it doesn't have to be a thing. It doesn't have to, to change anything, or-"

"Your eloquence astounds me," Loki murmured. He looked up and met Tony's eyes, his expression open, innocent. "Don't you fear that my brother will be angry, if he finds out that you've defiled me so?"

Tony gaped at him for a moment, because he was used to Loki unleashing armies and destroying cities, and the idea of him being a blushing innocent whose honour needed protecting was somewhere between bizarre and insane and-

At his confusion, Loki's face split into an absolutely wicked grin.

"Don't fret, Stark. I've done far worse. As my brother could no doubt tell you."

My brother. That had been a slip of the tongue, and they both knew it. Loki's face went horribly blank once more, and he jerked away, looking back at his feet. Tony decided to plough on.

"What I'm trying to say is that I don't mind. And you might be a demigod and a killer and, uh, insane, but I…uh, I kinda liked having you around. For a while."

Loki nodded, still staring pointedly at the floor.

Tony got to his feet more than a little awkwardly (but hey, who could blame him, he was trying to deal with the aftermath of a - what, a one night stand? - with a damn Norse god, and there weren't manuals for this). Then, on a whim, he leant over and planted a kiss on Loki's forehead.

"Just, think about it," he said, before Loki could respond. "That last attack, that…that really hit a nerve, but I can try and talk the others down a little." He shrugged. "Might make them more willing to listen."

Loki nodded again. Tony turned to go, but just as he reached the door, the god spoke.

"Thank you, Stark."

Tony didn't know what to say to that, so he simply nodded, and left.