Strange/Loki
They were good at kissing under dramatic settings, the two of them; glowing space jellyfish, with the backdrop of buildings burning and dinosaurs roaring. Fireworks seemed like they should have come up before all that, but now was better than never and Loki was fond of traditions like these -- even Asgard celebrated big events with fireworks and feasts.
But it was the kiss that Loki was really interested in, and Loki was invested enough to leave his flute of champagne behind on his work station in order to get his hands in Stephen's hair, curve his fingers around the back of his neck. Uncaringly bruising wasn't for a moment like this so much as deep -- Loki tilted his head just so and wasn't at all worried about making a scene when he got his tongue into Strange's mouth. If anyone was watching them, it was just a sad affair for their audience anyway.
Those three words were ones Loki did like hearing even if they were things he had trouble saying himself. But it was a new year, and in several minutes they had plans that Loki had not been joking about and -- well. It did occur to Loki that someday one of them might disappear again and he would feel even more distraught if he never said anything even if it was implied. "I love you," he murmured, low.