There is not one moment where Tony believes he’s with anyone else when he drifts from sleep nearly a full hour later. There’s not many times in his life where he’s woken up this way, no dream to plague him and hold him down, no spike of ‘inspiration’ so painful he couldn’t risk laying still for a moment more. He slips a hand up Loki’s leg, thumb massaging his knee cap before his palm falls still again.

“The Hobbit?” There’s just an instinctive knowledge of the book Loki is reading, and that he is reading at all, before Tony even begins to wake. It’s a blessing to wake with such a beautiful picture in his mind, too.

There is a lot to do, but Tony chooses to spend a few more minutes with his bonded before slipping out of bed towards the shower. An invitation for the other to join us very nearly on his lips, but gets left unsaid.