Title: No Time For Sentiment.

Author: Teofse

Fandom: MCU

Pairing: Loki/Tony

Characters: Loki, Tony Stark

Rating: G.

Word count: 367

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Marvel (both comics and movies). No money is being made out of this work.

A/N: Unbetaed. Post Avengers AU, disregards Iron Man 3 and Thor: TDW. Written for the adventdrabbles 2014 Prompt 1: Cuddling/relaxing by the fire.

A/N 2: The adventdrabbles will post a prompt per day for the next 30 days. It is my intention to answer as many of those as possible, incorporating every new challenge into the next chapter of this story until they are all done. Wish me luck! :D

Summary: Loki reminds himself that he has no time for sentiment.

No Time For Sentiment.

Loki looked listlessly around the hovel S.H.I.E.L.D had given him as 'living quarters' when his not-father dumped him on them as part of Thor's dumb plan to 'rehabilitate' him.

He should have accepted Banner's invitation to join The Avengers' weekly get-together, but he wasn't really one of them and he was tired of taking their pitying scraps. Yes, he was bored -and lonely too- but that didn't make him any less aware of the fact that nobody in the team could stomach his company for any length of time.

He was an outsider once again, the unwanted 'baggage' Thor had dragged in with him and forced everyone to accept.

"That stupid oaf never learns. His shield-brothers don't want me here. They will never, ever, trust me."

His long fingers flickered green, conjuring a beautifully detailed mirage of two dark-haired men lovingly entwined upon a leather couch; complete with crackling fire, soft background music and two goblets of wine lying, forgotten, on a coffee-table.

"Sentiment." He muttered, staring at the distinctive circle of light that emanated from the chest of the shorter projection with widened eyes, and blaming the sappy 'film' he'd been watching on TV for the unbearable longing that was making his heart ache with a strange and frightening sorrow.

"No, Loki." He snarled in self-defensive denial of his own stupidity and his voice sounded bitter when he forced himself to spell the truth out loud: "Yearning for things you can't have is what brought you here. Stark will never want the despicable bastard who almost leveled his precious New York, so you must as well Let. This. Go."

A sharp snap of white-knuckled fingers vanished the loving vision before him and he stared at the empty space it had occupied with shattered green eyes.

"I can't stay here. I can't keep loving those who'll never want me. I've got to focus on being 'good enough' for the Allfather to lift the magical restrictions that keep me tethered to this backward rock and then—then I'll be gone forever. I'll finally shed the burden of being Odinson, Laufeyson, Thor's brother and Frigga's son. I'll be nobody but me and I—I don't have time for sentiment."