gadgeteerphilanthropist:

mischiefandflyte:

Loki freezes, taken aback. He can’t exactly pale, but his eyes are even more stark against his skin, boring into Summer’s face. How can she know? He isn’t yet ready for Tony to know; how much this sanctuary has come to mean; why he came here first; the unexpected solace he’s found in their admittedly-brief encounters. Any of it.

Her expression makes him think that this is a pivot point — if he cannot be honest, he will have to walk away. Tony’s is no better, wary and closed. He draws away from Summer, coming to his feet. Unconsciously, his arms wrap around himself. “I care for you,” he manages, eyes closing against rejection.

Tony pauses, gradually loosening up again, caution unwinding.  He supposes he could chalk it up to the God of Lies being convincing, but this is also the same god whose shoulder he metaphorically cried on after Dummy’s departure, and who told him about Thanos in return.  So he finds himself more than willing to believe the statement, though he’s pretty sure it’s an understatement at the moment.

He slides Summer a glance, gauging whether or not she accepts the answer, and then takes Loki’s chin to guide him down the few inches.  The kiss is brief, and more or less chaste, but he figures it’s answer enough.  He’s never been great at actually saying how he feels; even with Summer it had just sort of…slipped out.  Still, his tone is mildly amused as he says, “Well, that’s good.”

Summer lets out a long, slow breath, watching the two of them. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t the outright lie he’d spoken before. “Okay.” She nods, locking her fingers together. “Then I’m good. Whatever happens, then, between me and Loki, it’s good.” A smile crooks her lips as Tony kisses Loki, and then she hops up, grinning outright, and tries to worm her way in between them. “Share,” she demands.