Loki is curled up in luxurious silken sheets, a Midgardian novelty that both he and Thor had grown fond of, simply enjoying a midday rest. He’s not avoiding the warriors three and Lady Sif. That’d be ridiculous. It’s not as if he’d frozen their weapons in one of the more remote gardens. The god of mischief smirks into his pillow.
He hasn’t heard any thunder, so it’s fairly certain that Thor has not gotten involved this time. Rolling over, he eyes the door. What he would like, at this very moment, is his once-brother in bed with him, making it warm and even more comfortable. He groans, remembering that the demigod is off rescuing Midgard from someone who is decidedly not him.
Standing in the rubble of some Midgardian township whose name he’s forgotten in the tussle, Thor glances up at the celestial being his teammates call the ‘Sun’. As much as he loves the outdoors, and fighting, he’s sorely missing Loki. His heart aches at the thought of the smaller male, back in Asgard, probably crafting some insane ploy or trick to play on their friends. With a shake of his head, he goes to join the man of iron, who is directing some of the agents in charge of clearing the debris.
“Man of iron!” He bellows.
“Yeah, y’know Tony would be great. Anytime you get tired of shouting that.”
Thor laughs. “My friend, I do not tire of your name. I do, however, long to return to Asgard.”
“What, missing your fuck buddy already, big man?”
On an average day, the great Thor would never let such a slight pass by unanswered. But today is not quite average, so instead he smiles broadly and turns, replying over his shoulder.
“Loki is far more than that, man of iron. If you ever say that of him again, you will find yourself facing my wrath.”
He continues away from the man, out into the open area, and calls on Heimdall to open the portal. He’s back in Asgard before he hears Tony Stark answer.