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Thor stays for a few days, a substantial part of which he spends voicing his ice-cold anger over Fury’s treatment of Loki, air around him crackling with electricity. And if Fury hadn’t been the leader of Midgard and they weren’t dependant on his goodwill and support in the matter of Loki’s reduced sentence, Thor would have paid the man a visit to teach him a hands-on lesson about the inadvisability of bestowing violence upon those weaker than himself.
Tony, on his hand, doesn’t even bother pointing out the irony in that.
He also doesn’t bother correcting Thor’s mistake about Fury’s job description. As much as Tony would have enjoyed seeing Thor carry out his threat, he is sure that Loki will be the one paying the price should the Thunderer do something ill-advised like raining down godly aggression on the Director of SHIELD, so that course of action will have to be discarded. But maybe Tony can hack SHIELD’s network later on and change everyone’s desktop to some photoshopped, embarrassing picture of the Director himself. Perhaps one showing him wearing pink and frilly women’s underwear or something.
The thought makes him grin.
Still, even though it’s quite nice to have Thor around, especially considering that Loki seems happy to have him, it unfortunately also means that he hasn’t been able to barely even touch Loki in these last few days. But having his godly brother constantly hovering nearby during the day and sleeping only a few doors down the hall at night, Tony’s hasn’t dared doing anything that might hint at the state of things. Given the whole argr issue, he has no idea how distasteful and unacceptable Thor would find the idea of another man sleeping with his little brother. Especially a debauched and shameless mortal like him.
Plus, Loki has been a bit on the bruised and battered side since Fury allowed his little asphyxiation fetish to have free reins, so it’s probably just as well to let things rest for a while. Thankfully, the only remaining after-effects of that episode are the bruises still marring Loki’s throat, but nothing more serious than that. Then again, Tony grudgingly has to admit, Fury no doubt knew exactly what he was doing and didn’t inflict any more damage than he considered necessary.
It’s a sunny Tuesday morning when Thor finally leaves, after having spoken many long and flowery words of departure, including repeated reassurances that he will be back to visit as soon as he can, though he now has other duties in Asgard awaiting his attention.
“And here I was starting to think that my dear brother would never leave,” Loki says with a pointed grin once Thor has apparated his way out of the tower, courtesy of his fancy magic amulet, a faint, lingering blue glimmer the only proof the thunder god was ever there.
Before Tony has the chance to offer a reply, Loki walks up behind him, snaking his arms around his waist, pulling their bodies close.
“I’ve missed you,” the god purrs, and maybe it should be a funny thing to say, since Tony has been here all along, but it’s perfectly clear what he means.
“Missed you too,” Tony says, leaning back into the embrace. “A lot.”
“You know, I’m really glad Fury didn’t drag me off to SHIELD,” Loki’s voice whispers into his ear. “I‘m not sure I could have handled many more days apart like this.”
“Hey, I’d let Fury take all my suits and even Jarvis before I’d ever let him have you,” Tony says, and he really means it too.
For a while, they just stand there in silence, Loki’s mouth a mere inch from his ear, breath hot on his cheek. Tony reaches up to place his hands on the god’s lower arms still circling him, softly stroking the skin, enjoying the closeness he’s sorely missed in these last few days. Loki nibbles at his earlobe in response, and a few moments later, a tongue darts out to trace along the sensitive skin of his neck, turning it into a field of little goose bumps.
“You do realize we’re going to have to put a hold on all of this as long as that agent will be staying here?” Tony sighs, already cursing Fury inwardly. Yeah, making that photoshopped picture seems like a really good idea right now. And totally fair too.
Loki makes a displeased sound, pulling Tony a little tighter. “Must we?”
“Well, if the agent finds out, it’s a safe bet it will make its way over to Fury’s ears as well. And considering his paranoia, he might think it’s your way of manipulating me. Like, I don’t know, trying to get access to my suits to do some damage now that you don’t have your magic, or whatever.” He puts his palm on top of Loki’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “And who knows if whatever it said in that parchment will then be enough to keep Mr Permanently Grumpy convinced that following Asgard’s Royal Decree of Indisputableness is still the best course of action?”
Wow, Tony Stark, once again turning down the prospect of sex. What is becoming of him, really?
Or maybe he’s just come to realize that there are more important things than sex.
“I see your point,” Loki replies, not sounding very happy. “I shall endeavour to keep my hands off you, then, though it will not be an easy task.”
A hand is suddenly edging up beneath his T-shirt, languidly caressing the skin beneath.
“But if we will have to refrain from such activities soon, we might as well make good use of the time we have until then, wouldn’t you agree?” Loki asks, his voice having now changed quality into something seductive and husky.
And Tony can’t find a single argument to the contrary. Especially not when there are deft fingers moving over his stomach and a pair of lips placing a long string of soft kisses along the side of his neck.
“Couldn’t agree more,” he breathes in reply as those fingers take to circling his navel before moving upwards to playfully caress the arc reactor. A few strokes along the metal and glass embedded in his chest – which Tony, regretfully, can’t feel at all – and they travel further along to tease over a nipple, thumb stroking it to hardness. The other hand soon follows the first and it doesn’t take long until everything seems to have dissolved into a swirling turmoil of fingers and hands moving over his torso, his chest, his stomach, his sides, caressing every inch of available skin.
With a sigh of pleasure, he leans his head back against the god still standing behind him, and Loki eagerly continues to nibble and lick over Tony’s neck, his tongue leaving a trail of warm wetness in its wake.
Unable to take it anymore, he twists around, turning so he comes face to face with Loki. He only needs a short moment to look into those eyes to see the desire pooling in them, coupled with something else, something much more tender than mere lust. Then, the eyes close shut as he pulls Loki in for a kiss, gently pushing his tongue between those soft lips.
Loki’s tongue meets his, the taste of it as sweet and intoxicating as alcohol, only better. And more addictive. His hands go up to circle the god’s neck, letting his fingers tangle in the dark strands.
There is a soft moan in his ears, and Tony isn’t sure who it’s coming from, but he thinks it’s Loki. Not that it matters. All that’s existing right now is the body pressed up close against his, effectively obliterating any remaining space between them.
The hands are still digging beneath his shirt, but this time pushing it up over his head, only to then dispose of the hindrance on the floor. A moment later, Tony returns the favour as he divests the god of his shirt in turn, exposing an ever-expanding stretch of pale skin for each button that is undone.
As he has finally worked his way down the far too long row of buttons, Loki wrenches the shirt off with a twist of his arms, and Tony runs his fingers over the naked skin, letting them roam over every square inch, revelling in the feeling of a ribcage fluttering from a hastened pace of breath. He swallows, feeling his head almost starting to spin. Loki is so beautiful and hot and sexy and god knows what else. It’s not fair that one man or god or whatever should make him lose all composure like this, like the rug on the floor has been yanked away from under his feet.
But he gives in to it all anyway, there’s no way he can withstand it or even bother making an effort, as he indulges in the god in front of him with hands and lips and tongue and fingers.
Then Loki pulls away, slightly, from his grasp, and Tony moans in disappointment as he’s nuzzling the crook between neck and shoulder, only to look up and meet with amusement playing in a pair of drop-dead gorgeous eyes.
“Let me have this one, Tony,” he says, smiling in what looks like eager anticipation.
He’s not sure what Loki means by that, not until there is suddenly a pair of hands at his belt buckle, snapping it open in a second, only to continue to undo the buttons of his jeans, one by one, excruciatingly slowly, his eyes never leaving Tony’s.
Then, nimble fingers are tugging at the waist of his jeans, pulling resolutely downwards. The pants come down, and Loki follows them, slithering downwards until he’s on his knees with Tony’s cock only inches from his face.
Oh god yes.
A warm hand closes around the base of his shaft, tugging once, and Tony shudders. Loki lets his gaze travel up to met with Tony’s for a heartbeat, another one of those pleased smiles playing at the corner of his lips, before he leans forward to lick along the length. From base to tip, so agonizingly, so unbearably slowly. As the wet tongue finally reaches the swollen head, a light growl escapes him because it just feels so damn good. And that magic, wonderful tongue keeps swirling over the tip, massaging and playing, lapping and teasing like it’s all it’s ever done in its long existence.
His cock twitches under the ministrations. It’s sweet torture, and most of all he just wants to push himself inside that hot, teasing mouth, but with a monumental effort, he controls himself, breath coming hard and fast.
Unperturbed or perhaps spurred by Tony’s glorious suffering, Loki nibbles along the side of his shaft, tongue trailing languidly along a throbbing vein. As he reaches the head again, he lets his tongue trace the ridge in slow, lazy circles, and Tony moans in frustration.
“Loki…”
The god snickers, ceasing his ministrations for a few seconds. “Don’t they say here in Midgard that patience is a virtue?” he asks innocently, throwing Tony an amused look as he affectionately rubs his cheek against the cock in his hand.
Before Tony can answer that, Loki dives down over him, taking the shaft into his mouth. Slowly, oh-so-slowly, sliding his lips towards the base, and then back up.
Oh yes.
And then, that mouth starts sucking him like a vacuum cleaner on steroids, making a million stars and suns explode before his eyes. Groaning, he leans back against the wall, hands behind him for support, to stop his knees from buckling at the overpowering rush of pleasure as Loki is working on him in earnest.
The god’s tongue – and damn, is it really as long as it feels? – is rubbing along his length as he sucks, playfully teasing. And he takes him deeper than Tony remembers anyone ever doing before. One of the few still rational parts of his brain wonders how it’s at all physically possible, how Loki even manages to do that. But then again, the god has like what, two millennia’s worth of experience in these matters under his belt. Somehow, the idea makes Tony feel strangely… inadequate.
The pace that Loki sets up is steady, and the pressure of his lips wonderfully tight. One of his hands has reached up to grab at Tony’s ass, the other is nestled at the base of his cock, brushing against his balls.
Panting heavily in pleasure, he stares at the god kneeling before him in mesmerized awe. And for a moment, Loki looks up at him, lips slightly twitching in what would have been a grin if he hadn’t had his mouth full of Tony’s cock, clearly enjoying the way he’s making Tony come totally undone.
He can’t stop himself, so he grabs hold of Loki’s hair, pushing his head closer, half expecting the god to protest (in his experience some tend to do that), but Loki doesn’t. He just sucks impossibly harder, taking Tony all the way into that glorious mouth.
And it feels so amazing, like he’s just getting the mother of all blowjobs, the standard against which all else pales. He throws his head backwards as the pressure in his balls builds up, glad for the support the wall offers. The sloppy, wet sounds from his cock sliding in and out between Loki’s tight lips is only making him even harder, and he imagines coming into that perfect mouth, moaning in pure, raw pleasure.
The world has been reduced to those lips moving over his length, the tongue swirling over his head and the mouth encasing him like a vice. And for all he cares, the world can remain like that until it ends, as long as he can keep pushing himself into that wet, tight heat. He’s not really sure anymore if Loki is the one moving over him, or if he’s the one thrusting himself into him, or perhaps a combination of both – it’s not like it matters. He tightens the grip on the tuft of black hair in his hand; he’s on the brink, only a precious little more now--
-- and he comes, the power of his release washing over him like a tsunami, ripping every semblance of control from his being. He shouts, shuddering and bucking, spilling into the god before him. For a blissful moment, nothing exists but the all-encompassing, roaring wave of pleasure washing over him. Neither his senses nor his mind register anything but the explosive force of his climax as he moans and shivers, unaware of anything but the almost painfully intense moment of here and now.
A few moments later, all strength goes out of him, and he slides to the floor like a limp rag, finding himself face to face with a still kneeling Loki. There’s moisture glistening on his lips and lust shining in his eyes and he’s just so goddamn beautiful that Tony would have pulled him in for a devouring kiss if he still had any strength left.
Loki looks at him, an eyebrow quirked. “Did you enjoy that… Tony?” he purrs, voice husky and breathless, as if he was the one that just got the most amazing blowjob on this planet.
And his name on Loki’s lips is just beautiful, a sweet caress in his ears. He doesn’t think there’s any way he could ever grow tired of hearing it spoken like that.
“If I’d enjoyed it any more, I’d be dead,” he manages, laughter bubbling up inside of him. “Where the hell did you learn that stuff? Do they give special classes on this back in Asgard or something?”
Loki only chuckles in reply as Tony wraps his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.
And the world is so perfect in that moment. Loki is safe, Fury won’t be taking him back to SHIELD. He gets to stay here, with him.
There is only one thing that nags at the perfection. The promise of that agent that Fury is going to send. Because he sure as heck doesn’t want any of Fury’s little lackeys living in his tower, especially not with Loki around.