Tony/Loki ficlet

[icarus_chained]

Again, for a prompt on comment_fic. Much, much darker this time.

Make A Weapon Of Our Hate

The human's lips were blue, his breath falling in mists. He stood pale and shivering, the shudders ripping through muscles locked rigid in defiance. He was freezing, the life and warmth leeching from him with every breath. But in the center of his chest, a cold, blue light burned like a baleful eye, and his eyes above it were black, contemptuous chips of ice.

Loki looked at Tony, at the snarled lift of a shaking lip, and hungered. To drink that shaking, contemptuous heat into himself, and cradle to his breast a chill, beautiful corpse.

Or ... so he had thought.