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Chapter Text

Tony won't lie - right now he's equal parts excited and nervous. Okay, he would probably lie if someone asked him about it, but fortunately there's no-one around.

It's Friday, seven p.m., and - amazingly - he's sitting all alone in his penthouse.

Exactly fourteen hours ago he nearly got a heart attack when - after not even forty minutes of sleep - he was violently woken up by the damned music of the pompous, German what's-his-name. A heavy metal version. Played at full volume.

(He's quite certain that the sound of that piece might make him jump and flinch for at least next few months or more.)

In exactly half an hour, he's supposed to meet with the sender of this delightful morning surprise, aka Loki “My jokes and pranks are always utterly funny” Laufeyson. And he's definitely going to make an official complaint about this kind of treatment, followed by the firm demand of a proper compensation. A very thorough and pleasant one.

(Right. If only it was so easy…)

Actually… this meeting is the exact thing which causes his mixed emotions and makes him pace restlessly around the room. He'd gladly gulp down one of the insanely expensive, red, dry wines, which are already waiting on the coffee table, but he knows better than to face Loki while being drunk as a skunk. Their rendez-vous would probably end in a quick, violent and unpleasant way.

Tony sighs when he realises what word he used among his rambling thoughts. That's the core of the whole problem - this is a rendez-vous, a planned meeting, a… date?

An evening for which he could finally prepare himself the way he wanted. For which he instantly cancelled his previous plans without a hint of hesitation. For which - when the initial, unrealistic desire to kill Loki with his bare hands finally passed - he waited with eagerness, impatience and thrill. Until–

Until he realised what exactly it means.

There's no more: 

“...oh, it's just an unexpected one-night stand”, 

“...he caught me by surprise, what could I do?”,

“...you know me, I always think with my cock on the spur of the moment”,

“...of course, I haven't planned it - do you think I'm that crazy?”

To be honest, Tony doesn't give a shit whether anyone considers him insane or not. He couldn't care less about other people's opinion of him - and this includes the whole god-damned SHIELD agency and even… the Avengers themselves.

(Okay, that last one might not be one hundred percent true, but he’s not going to dig deeper into the topic.)

Anyway, that is not the problem. But there's one important thing you should know about Tony Stark - contrary to what some people believe, he actually has a real conscience and a moral backbone. Aaaaalright, it might be a lil’ bit flexible at times (especially in “one time sex with the enemy” kind of situations) but it is definitely there. And right now it’s firmly demanding Tony's attention.

That's not so surprising. No matter what kind of crazy and idiotic thing has been developing between the two of them, this… is still Loki .

The enemy. The villain. The chaos bringer. The one responsible for all those mischievous tricks and pranks. And although Tony might find lots of them actually funny, highly creative or impressive, that doesn't change the fact that quite often they cause million-dollar damages. Sometimes they bring injuries to innocent civilians as well. Fortunately, no fatal accidents so far, but there were already a few situations in which someone might have died.

Yeah, he knows that Loki doesn't want to harm people on purpose. If he did, New York would be in really deep shit right now. But still - it happens; and it's not like the god is extra careful about this kind of stuff. Frankly, he might not even know about the casualties but definitely - he doesn't seem to care too much.

Tony's conscience does care.

So here he is, walking up and down his penthouse, wondering what the hell he should do in this situation–

“Good evening, Stark. You cannot wait for our meeting, can you?” The voice behind his back is all “s” - smooth, smug and sexy. “I see you shiver with antici… pation.”

Tony turns around, startled, and for a moment his brain switches into a “full awe” mode. Loki's appearance perfectly matches his voice - an embodiment of cool smugness and hot seduction in his (as always) impossibly tight jeans, black shirt and elegant, dark-green suit jacket. He looks delicious and Tony desperately wants to have a bite.

He manages to force his reluctant mind to be fully operational once again. No! - suave talk and mouth-watering looks won’t distract him from venting his morning frustration.

“Don't you go all sexy-badass on me now! You nearly killed me with your damned text, you know? And by the way, do you steal lines from all the movie antagonists out there?”

The all-teeth grin and the low chuckle as always make Tony's skin tingle and his blood pressure rise significantly.

“Not all… Just the hot ones,” Loki replies casually, as his shark-like smile changes into the equally well-known, lop-sided one.

“And you surely exaggerate, Stark. I had your vitals monitored during the whole morning event. If they looked amiss, I would instantly aid you. Yet, there wasn't anything alarming, apart from a brief moment of highly increased heart rate and the adrenaline rush. Nothing you would not inflict on yourself one way or another, taking into account your style of life.”

That self-conceited bastard! However, a part of Tony feels a spark of warmth when he hears that Loki was actually concerned about his well-being. That… also adds a bit of hope when it comes to the results of the awkward and difficult conversation which might wait for them just around the corner.

Loki's eyes squint suspiciously all of the sudden. “Is there anything wrong, Stark? Are you truly angry because of the way in which I delivered my message?”

Tony sighs and automatically runs his fingers through his hair.

“Naaaah, it's okay. I might regret saying it, but I kinda appreciate your creativity. But yeah, back in the morning I seriously considered strangling you, to be honest.”

“Ohhh, you can try, by all means. You seemed to enjoy it last time we met, and I’m open to all possible scenarios tonight.” Loki instantly switches his tone to a higher gear of seduction and Tony experiences brief problems with breathing. “But first things first, Stark. I'd really like a glass of wine now. Will you do the honours?”

Tony does. He tries to focus on the things at hand - opening the bottle, pouring the wine into the glasses, handing one over to Loki. Their fingers brush against each other when the god takes the drink, and this small contact is electrifying enough for Tony to instantly want more of it. Much more.

It requires a lot of effort not to pounce on Loki, lock their lips and dig his fingers into the god’s flesh. Tony is seriously feeling proud of himself. He is also getting hard already, surprise, surprise! But the spectre of awaiting discussion acts like a cold shower and quickly clears his mind. At least a little bit.

The little wine-pouring ceremony is over and they're both comfortably sitting on the sofa, slightly turned towards each other. Loki takes a sip of the alcohol and hums with content. He looks quite relaxed under his typical, teasing-smug manner and he's definitely a tiny bit aroused as well. If Tony is looking for the best possible moment to spoil it all by saying something stupid… uhhhh, that is - to start a difficult conversation… that's probably it.

“So… Ummm… Why did you decide to write that message all of the sudden?”

The glass of wine stops for a split second, but then it smoothly continues its journey to Loki's mouth. The god might look slightly more tense than he did a moment ago, but it could also be Tony's stressed out mind imagining things.

“Our two previous encounters proved to be highly pleasurable, didn't they? And not only in the sexual aspect, as I recall.” Loki clears his throat softly and leans a bit against the cushions. “My logic was simple - if both of us had so much fun, why not have such meetings on a… regular basis? What do you say to that, Stark?”

Oh.

Oh?

Wait… what?

Okay, that escalated a bit more quickly than Tony imagined. So it's not just one date that Loki had in mind, but–

“Wait a sec, here, smooth talker. Just to make sure we're on the same page - you'd like to upgrade from one-night-stands-with-favourite-nemesis to long-term-frenemies-with-benefits? Am I getting it right?”

The god chuckles softly, but there's something too theatrical about it. Tony instantly has a feeling that this is all a pretty cover and that Loki might be as much nervous deep down inside as he is.

“I will never get bored of your hilarious way of describing things, Stark. But yes - I guess, this is more or less what I wanted to propose. Do you find this option appealing?”

Fuck! Of course, it’s appealing! That's the whole god-damned problem here!

Tony breathes in and out a few times to clear his head and give himself time to find proper words. To make sure he doesn’t screw it up. Wow! This… is way more than he's ever imagined to hear from the god, but now that the offer has come, he realises that he wants it so much. So incredibly much! On the other hand, it complicates things even more.

Loki is sitting in his nonchalant pose all the time, absentmindedly fidgeting with the glass and sipping the wine, but his eyes are a bit squinted again - analysing, focused, waiting for his answer. Yeah, no pressure at all.

“Sure, I do, Lokes! You know what they say: keep your friends close but your enemies closer.” Tony manages a huge grin, hoping that it sufficiently covers his tension. “So yeah… I'm all for it! On… one condition though…”

The god's eyebrow moves slightly up and there's a flash of wariness reflecting in his face, but it quickly fades away, replaced by a teasing smile.

“Playing hard to get, are we, Stark? Please, tell me, what is this condition of yours?”

Tony closes his eyes for a moment (why, why, why the hell is he so nervous about it?), then opens them again and decides to blurt it all out before he changes his mind.

“I want you to stop causing the kind of trouble that brings harm to people. I don't  give a fuck about you messing with SHIELD or other shit-heads, but I can't let the civillans get killed or injured or lose their homes as a result of your tricks.”

The smile disappears; Loki's face is blank now. He's looking at Tony as if he's trying really hard to process the words but is unable to. They sit like that - staring at each other - for a minute or more until the heavy silence is broken by a clank of the glass put down on the coffee table with a bit too much force. Tony flinches at the sound. And then he flinches again when he sees another smirk slowly creeping on Loki's face, this one - full of disdain.

“Did you really have the nerve to tell me what I should and shouldn't do with my life, mortal?”

The god's voice is still calm but it's underlined with an ominous, icy note that Tony hasn't heard before. Even on the battlefield. He really, really doesn't like it, but - hell no! - he's not going to be intimidated by this "high'n'mighty alien" pose.

“I'm not telling you what you should do with your life. I'm telling you what you need to do if you wanna spend more time with your favourite, sexy superhero. That's all.”

Loki's fists start clenching and unclenching, his forearms are trembling slightly, and Tony already knows that the storm is approaching at the speed of light. He reaches out to lay his palm on the god’s arm, but that only hastens the inevitable.

“Do not touch me!” Loki furiously swats his hand away and rises from the couch, looking down at him with barely concealed fury. “All my life… All my Norns-damned life people had been telling me what to do! How to act! What kind of person to be! That's why I settled here - to finally be who I truly am! With nobody trying to shape me the way they want!”

He starts pacing around the room, like an enraged tiger - clenched fists, tense shoulders, set jaw. Tony is not really sure how to act at the moment, so he just gets up from the sofa as well and waits for the further development of this freaky situation. It doesn't take too long before he’s once more face to face with the infuriated god.

“I swore to myself I will never let anyone  control me again!” Loki's voice is getting louder and it's filled with emotions. “And I won't ! Especially not a pathetic, mortal creature, who's trying to exploit my weaknesses! That was your plan from the beginning, wasn't it, Stark?”

Okay, what? Tony is really fed up with this bullshit right now. His own inner tension and stress instantly transform into anger and frustration.

“If anyone's pathetic here - it's definitely not me! I told you honestly what I need! It's you who's making fuss, accusing me of hell-knows-what and having a temper tantrum like a spoiled brat!”

Behold! It has finally happened: Tony Stark has ultimately lost his mind and is now yelling at the super angry supervillain with superhuman strength. But once he started, he can't stop himself anymore. Amazingly, it surprises Loki enough to shut him up for a moment, so Tony continues his kamikaze tirade undisturbed.

“You're so sensitive about people making you do things you don't want to, huh? But you don’t give a damn about me! I have my own rules! My own promises I don't want to break! And if you can’t get it, Mister Oh-I'm-So-Important, you may as well go fuck yourself with a cactus! Green and prickly - a perfect match for you!”

This is the moment in which Tony's mind finally catches up with his big mouth. Okay, he might have said a tad more than he wanted - it may be a good idea to consider activating the newest Iron Man suit. He glances at the god, trying to assess the probability of dying on the spot within the next minutes.

Yes, Loki really looks like he wants to murder him here and now, but there's something more shining in his eyes. Some kind of despair. Pain, maybe? That makes Tony cool down a bit and step back in his thoughts. All my life people had been telling me what to do. Oh, he knows this feeling so well. Too damn well…

“Loki…?” He doesn’t even know what he wants to say. He's vented his anger and feels totally deflated right now. “I… Fuck, I'm sorry, I guess… I didn’t want to…”

The awkward silence falls upon the room and stays there like a suffocating smog. Tony runs his hand across his face - why does it all have to be so complicated, for fuck's sake? But there’s no escape now - they have to figure it out one way or another. And with Loki totally losing his shit, it seems like he has to play the slightly unfamiliar part of “the responsible one” here.

“Look, I'm really sorry for saying it the way I did,” he begins, somewhat awkwardly. “I didn't mean it like that. But the fact is, I won't change my mind. I can't have a  full-scale romance with someone who continues to harm people I promised to protect. I… just can't.”

He sighs heavily. Damn, Pepper would be so proud of him - Tony Stark behaving like a proper adult for once. Somehow, it doesn't make him feel any better. Yet, he does all he can to make his voice sound confident and steady.

“So, here's my deal. If you accept this condition, I'll be more than happy to give it a try, starting now. If you can’t… well, I guess it's time… to say goodbye.”

The uncomfortable silence returns. None of them moves even a muscle now, as if they were frozen in time. It feels strange, like a frame from some surrealistic movie.

It's Tony who finally breaks the spell, takes a step towards the god and dares to stare straight into his face once again.

Loki - although it's hard to believe - looks a bit like he's going to cry. There's still a lot of anger in those emerald eyes, but it is now outnumbered by many other emotions, the general vibe definitely steering towards sadness rather than wrath.

“Stark…” he whispers and bites his lip as if afraid of saying something he doesn’t want to.

For a short moment Tony feels hope and warmth gathering in his heart - yes, they can make it, they might get this chance, they will sort this out - but then… a shimmering green mist gathers around Loki and the god disappears without a word, leaving him alone in the room.

It takes more than two minutes before absolutely stunned Tony manages to move again. When he finally does - he grabs the nearest bottle of vintage wine and smashes it violently against the wall.

*

It's Friday, nine thirty p.m., and Tony is still alone in his penthouse. Just ‘cause he feels like it.

So if right now he's sliding towards the verge of alcohol poisoning at an insanely fast pace, it's only because of momentary boredom, general existential frustration and his default lifestyle.

Nothing else.

And it's none of your fucking business anyway.

Chapter Text

Fashionably dressed and fashionably late - that's the essence of Tony Stark's appearances at various events, meetings and galas. Although the “late” part is less connected with fashion and more with the fact that Tony doesn't want to be there. He might be really good at this kind of fake and forced socialising, but it doesn't mean he likes it. He never has. And currently he has even less motivation to go anywhere.

He has to, though, and the pressure is even bigger than before. Because right now, not only “it is necessary for the company and PR” but also “it will do you good to be around people”, “you can't stay alone all the time”, “oh, is your depressive episode getting worse?” and “you’re sure, you don't need to visit the psychiatrist?”.

(And he's heard the last ones too many times during the last weeks!)

What the hell is wrong with these people? Can't they mind their own business and leave him alone?

Okay, he understands Pepper - she was the one who found him on the floor of his penthouse that unforgettable Friday night nearly three months ago. Barely conscious, absurdly drunk, in the pool of his vomit and blood, because he had cut himself with the broken glass (accidentally or on purpose - he doesn't even want to know).

Of course, Jarvis had called her, saying that “Mr Stark is facing a severe depressive episode which might endanger his life”. Surprisingly though, he didn't say anything about the reasons behind Tony’s behaviour, simply stating that being just a machine he's not able to analyse the depths of human emotions. Tony is grateful for that, although he's also quite amazed that his AI turned out to be such an innocence-faking, deceitful bastard. But maybe that's because Jarvis spent too much time with… Ummm… A certain mischievous individual, whose name Tony doesn't want to mention right now.

So yeah, Pepper has the right to worry about him and besides - she’s always been a kind of “mother hen” figure for him (apart from these moments when she was switching into a “badass bitch” one). The others though?

Rhodey asking him a few times if everything is alright and if Tony needs anything might still be within the norm. Roger's awkward attempts to discuss “potential problems” - less so. Banner's suggestions to visit a therapist because “we all need it sometimes” seemed a bit strange. But when Thor offered to “go to a brothel together, friend Stark, because you seem to be perturbed by some grief”... Alright, that was definitely too much.

And Tony is okay, god-damn-it! Perfectly okay! Sure, he might have been a bit… less enthusiastic recently. More indifferent and solitary? Less sassy and bantering? But it doesn't mean that anything is wrong. He probably has a mid-life-crisis or something like that. You know, one of these things that everyone has to face sooner or later, even the great Tony Stark. That's certainly it.

Anyway, here he is, entering the Annual Gala of Some-Weird-Shit - one of those delightful places where all people always belong to a few basic categories:

1. those who do everything they can to annoy him, 
2. those who avoid him at all costs but pretend they don't (usually quite poorly),
3. those who try to get something from him, 
4. those who want to hook up with him (and then probably get something from him as well).
   

Frankly, he doesn't know which one is the most irritating for him right now. Back in the day, category four had at least some benefits, but… somehow it has lost all its appeal as well. And as much as Tony doesn't want to admit it - he knows the cause perfectly well.

Loki. The damned god of lies, mischief, amazing sex and kinky stuff, who ruined him for anyone else. Abso-fucking-lutely!

Yeah, Tony might have already experienced the boredom and repetitiveness of his casual one-nighters some time before. We all get more picky as we get older, don't we? That applies to the most famous playboys as well. But until his first encounter with the crazy alien he thought that it was just… You know… The age thing. His libido battery going flat, that kind of stuff.

Oh, how mistaken he was.

He realised that already during his first night with the god and confirmed it during the second one. No, his libido battery was operating alright - it's just that other people started to be too boring for him. To the point that he didn't even try to have sex with anyone else anymore. And now, with this… “depressive episode” (which has definitely nothing to do with his third meeting with Loki) the idea of spending the night with a stranger is even more off-putting than it was before...

Alright, no more moping and self-pity. Here comes the one and only Tony Stark, and he's gonna damn well pretend to have lots of fun tonight!

The room is packed with people. Most of them he already knows from other, similar events. Tailor-made outfits, expensive gadgets, perfect hairstyles, authentic diamonds and fake smiles. As always.

Of course, the undisputed champion of the “annoying category”, Justin Hammer, is also present. Fortunately, he doesn't even look in his direction, as he's talking to some woman whom Tony doesn't recognise. Good. Let's hope he's occupied by her for a longer time.

Some other guests have already noticed him, though, so it's time for the typical party routine. Walking around, mingling with idiotic people, small talking about things he doesn't care about, pretending that bad jokes are funny, smiling with fake interest, “yes, of course, we'll discuss it later, Mr Senator”, “no, unfortunately I can't do anything about it - these are the things Ms Potts is currently responsible for”.

It takes more than half an hour before the first wave of crashing bores flows away, leaving him temporarily alone. He knows it won't last long - five minutes of peace and quiet is the maximum amount he gets at parties like this - but he intends to enjoy it as long as he can. He settles in the corner with a drink in his hand, scanning the room in search of any individuals he needs to avoid. It seems that luck is on his side - all the worst cases are currently involved in discussion. Including Hammer, who's still busy talking to his companion.

Tony's eyes automatically skim across the scenery, but then suddenly snap back to Hammer. Actually, that's interesting and… atypical. The guy seems immersed in the conversation and there is a strange expression on his goofy face. If Tony didn't know him, he'd say that the man looks totally smitten. Seriously? He can't remember seeing this absolute narcissist fascinated by anyone other than himself.

He suddenly feels a bit curious about the  lady, who miraculously managed to catch Justin's attention, but… Yeah, whatever. She's probably a spoiled daughter of some rich buffoon. And it’s not like he cares for anyone who chooses to spend their time with the likes of Hammer.

He looks around the room one more time. Maybe… He should give it a try as well? Find someone for the night? There are so many pretty girls and handsome guys around here, who'd probably give a lot to be able to get into Tony Stark's bedroom. It would be so easy, so simple, so–

Dull? Pointless? Feigned?

Fuck…

But maybe it would be good for him anyway? Maybe it would help him clear his mind of all the unwanted thoughts and emotions. Help him stop imagining what could have been. Regretting. Longing. Wondering what the hell the damned god of mischief is doing right now…

He hasn't seen Loki since that unfortunate evening in his penthouse. To be honest, nobody has. The god seems to have disappeared for good.

All in all, most of them don't complain about the fact. Surely, the Avengers’ life has definitely become more boring, but hey! There are still lots of wannabe-villains out there, who do all they can to make it more interesting. Besides, it’s good to have some rest from the constant fights. Thor might be a bit worried about his baby bro, but he says it's not so unusual, that Loki likes to explore some other realms from time to time, that he might have needed some diversion.

He probably did.

But yeah, there's no point thinking about that too much. Whatever was there, it's over and finished, and Tony has to move on. So instead of drowning in unhappy thoughts, let’s enjoy watching the hilariously stupid smile on Hammer's face as he's basically drooling over the girl he's talking to.

No doubts about it right now - the guy is positively spellbound. Tony is watching the show with a mixture of wicked amusement and dread. He wonders how desperate the woman is to get what she wants. Will she go so far as to sleep with Hammer? The mere thought makes him wanna puke. Although, as far as he knows Justin - he'd rather talk about himself all night long than actually have sex with her.

He takes another sip of champagne and continues to stare at the source of unexpected entertainment. Hammer's laughing right now, probably at some stupid joke he or the girl told. Tony can't really see the face of his companion. Is she authentically amused, as well? Or is she forcing a smile? Hard to say… But Justin definitely looks like he's having the time of his life. He leans over to the woman and - oh fuck! - is he seriously going to kiss her?

The following events happen so fast that Tony wouldn’t probably catch them if he wasn't already observing the couple.

The lady raises her left hand and smacks Hammer hard across the cheek. A second later she throws her drink right in his shocked face. Then, she puts away the glass, stands up gracefully and simply walks away.

Tony nearly bursts out with laughter at the sight of totally confused and shocked Justin who's alternately gaping at his would-be date and his soaking suit. Finally, he seems to decide that the damaged clothes are a more pressing issue at the moment as he gets up rapidly and runs towards the bathroom.

The eyes of all people standing nearby are focused on the girl right now. Yet, she doesn't seem to care. She strolls across the room with calm and confidence, heading in the direction of… no! No, no, no!

Of course, what a perfect scheme to become recognisable among the elite and to hit the headlines. Slapping Justin Hammer in front of the crowd and then leaving the party with Tony Stark.

(Sorry, sweetheart, but your master plan is doomed to fail. Tony is simply not interested in this kind of game anymore.)

He looks at the woman who's walking slowly towards him and, suddenly, he starts to understand why Hammer was so fascinated by her. Well, she might not be conventionally beautiful, but she sure is attractive. Very much so! And she just emanates this enticing aura of rebellious sex-appeal.

Speaking of “rebellious” - the lady must be connected to someone influential, because such events normally have a strict dress code and… Really? Knee-high boots, leather pants and a tight top with plunging neckline and a print that says “Killer Queen - guaranteed to blow your mind”? She doesn't even wear any fancy accessories or jewellery, apart from the necklace with a golden pendant, resting temptingly in the middle of her cleavage (at which he’s desperately trying not to stare too much).

Yeah, Tony actually begins to like this lil’ punk a bit, although her taste in party companions definitely leaves a lot to be desired. But - no matter how interesting and tempting she might be - he's not going to get involved in any type of drama tonight.

The woman is standing right in front of him now and Tony already opens his mouth to say: “sorry, hun, you're nice and all, but find yourself another billionaire”, when–

“Finally! Took you long enough, Stark. That blithering idiot nearly bore me to death.”

Tony blinks. He closes his mouth and looks at the girl once again. She's tall and slender, with long, dark hair, pretty but quite sharp facial features and enormous, green eyes. She might seem strangely familiar but he’s sure he has never seen her before. What the hell?

“Excuse me, do we know each other?”

The corners of the pretty mouth twitch slightly, slowly forming a half-amused, half-mocking smile.

“Oh, Stark… For a so-called genius, you are incredibly slow sometimes. Please, connect the dots.”

Okay, Tony might have reached the highest possible level of confusion right now...

…But the girl's words, the tone of her voice and her ironic smirk suddenly make his mind go “click”.

“Holy fuck! Lo–?”

“Shhhhh!”

Tony obediently shuts up, instantly aware that the eyes of the whole room still rest upon the two of them. He draws a deep breath, clears his throat and once again returns to his “I'm just having fun here” facial expression.

“Would you like to take a walk outside, dear?”

“With pleasure.” The girl takes his arm and they slowly saunter towards the stairs leading to the roof terrace.

The weather is nice, the air still warm, but the huge terrace remains nearly empty. It might have something to do with the unusually steep staircase which successfully discourages high-heeled ladies and slightly-drunk gentlemen. Perfect! The less people around - the better.

He still keeps the appearances of a leisurely walk, though, until they find themselves in the remote corner of the terrace. And that's the moment when he rapidly disentangles himself from the grip on his arm.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Loki?”

“I was waiting for you, Stark. I thought that was obvious.”

Yeah, like hell it was. Tony pinches the bridge of his nose and inhales deeply before looking once again into those bold, green eyes.

“Why? What do you even want from me?”

He knows he sounds harsh and cold - maybe even more than he intended to. But he can't just fall into a nice small talk as if nothing has happened. Because it has. He can't help feeling a bit of satisfaction when he sees that the emerald gaze loses a part of its confidence. Loki bites her lip, hesitating a bit.

“Talk to you.” She still sounds calm and composed, but her coolness is more hollow now - like a perfectly played role instead of the real thing. “Our last conversation didn't… end too well. I wanted–”

He doesn't even realise what exactly makes him snap - this phony calmness in her voice, the way she looks at him or her choice of words. But suddenly, those long weeks of pent-up feelings start gushing out like a turbulent geyser.

“You wanted what ? You think that you can just escape without a word, disappear for three fucking months and then come here as if nothing happened and say you need to talk ? What the hell is wrong with you?”

The girl's gaze moves away from him, she’s staring into the horizon now, her long, pale fingers fiercely gripping the metal rail.

“I… do apologise, Stark,” she whispers without looking at him. “It wasn't my intention to… hurt you.”

“But you fucking did!” Tony hears himself growl before he's even aware of uttering the words. Shit! This is the exact thing he should have kept to himself. Why does he always have to blurt something out and make himself exposed? He should have played it cool, not showing his feelings and weaknesses, but yeah… No brain to mouth filter, huh?

“I am sorry. I just… needed this time to sort things out.” Her voice is so quiet now, that it's barely audible. It sounds like she’s forcing herself to say these words, to swallow her pride and be honest for once.

She certainly is. But Tony is not able to think about it right now, he's too angry at himself for feeling things he shouldn't feel and saying things he shouldn't say. Too mad at Loki for making him feel and say those things. And when he speaks, all his frustration, anger and resentment pour into the words staining them with cruel sarcasm.

“What did you want to sort out? How to use me one more time and ditch me again?”

Loki inhales sharply and her body jerks violently, as if she's been punched. She's still not looking at him and for a moment Tony can only hear her ragged breathing. Finally, she seems to get a grip on herself and she turns around towards him, her sharp gaze barely covering hurt and anger shining in her eyes.

“For your information, Stark, I needed this time to find out if I can fulfil your condition without the feeling that I'm losing myself and my life. If you were still interested, of course,” she replies, once again coating her words with fake composure. “But I see that I needn't have bothered. Once more, I apologise for hurting you. This won't happen again.”

And then… she's gone.

It takes a longer while before Tony's mind processes everything that happened a while ago. Wait… did Loki actually say–?

Holy fucking shit!

He just blew it. Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!!! And this time there's no way of saving it - not after the proud god came to apologise and make up, and was met with rejection. Fuuuuck!

But… maybe? A crazy idea lights up in Tony's head. He reaches into his pocket, takes out his phone and searches furiously through the archive. There it is - a message from Loki. Fortunately, he didn't have the heart to delete it.

There's no number displayed (Tony's not sure if the god even has a phone), but… it was sent from somewhere . So there's a slight chance that it can be answered. His trembling fingers fumble with the touch screen for a while but finally he's able to type a short text, possibly the most stupid one in his entire life:

“SORRY!!! I fucked up! Wanna talk, too. 10pm, my penthouse? Please???”

He clicks the sending button and… nothing happens. Okay, there's no way to check if the message was delivered. Even if it was… there is no guarantee that Loki will even want to read it.

Tony sighs heavily, leans against the rail and covers his face with his hands. Seems like he has to wait for two more hours to find that out…

Chapter Text

Despite giving himself nearly two hours of extra time, Tony barely manages to get home before ten. One does not simply walk out of a gala without being bothered. Especially, when the one in question is Tony Stark.

He did it, though! He's back in his penthouse exactly quarter to ten, which gives him five minutes to get rid of fancy clothing and jump into his comfortable jeans and tee, plus ten minutes to pace around the room, trying not to bite his nails and not to lose his mind.

At ten o'clock he flops down on the sofa, afraid that his feet might carry him too close to the liquor cabinet.

At five past ten he catches himself nervously plucking a hole in the upholstery and decides to get up before he ruins the whole thing.

At ten past ten he sits down again, wrecked and defeated. No, he's not going to cry, definitely not! But the bottles of whiskey in the cabinet begin to sing their siren song, too tempting and alluring to fight it anymore.

“You wanted to talk, Stark…” The voice is quiet, devoid of emotions, definitely male this time.

Tony jumps up, startled by the unexpected sound. He rapidly moves up from the sofa, nearly tripping over the coffee table in the process, and heads in the direction from which the voice came.

Loki is right in front of the big window with the marvellous view of New York. It somehow reminds Tony of their first encounter, but at that time the god was playfully leaning against the glass pane, sipping his wine in a relaxed and tempting way, balancing between flirting with Tony and intimidating him.

Now, he's just standing there, tense and rigid, looking into the horizon, just as he did on the terrace two hours ago. In the window reflection Tony can see that his arms are crossed and his face is set into an indifferent mask.

“You wanted to talk,” he repeats, his tone blank. “So - talk.”

That's probably the best Tony can get. He bites his lip, not sure how to begin… Damn, he wanted to say so much, but right now he just can't find any proper words.

He has to, though - that's the last chance, and if Loki decides that it's a waste of time, he'll just go poof again without any warning, without Tony having a chance to say that he's–

“Sorry!” He blurts out. “I'm sorry! I… I… screwed this one up… I shouldn't have said it and… I guess I'm an idiot, and… I just–”

“Yes.”

Tony stops halfway in his pathetic rambling. “Ummm… ‘Yes’ what?”

“Yes, you did. Yes, you shouldn't have. And yes, you are.”

The words are - as always - covered with the typical, superficial coolness, but he can hear the echo of emotions ringing underneath. Loki doesn't move, he just sighs wearily, before he adds in a bit softer, much quieter voice: “Apology accepted.”

Oh.

Honestly, Tony wasn't prepared for that. He was sure that it'll need at least a bit more of his helpless squirming and awkward babbling. But it seems that the god is just as tired of all this high-level drama as he is. Tony exhales slowly, trying to get rid of all the tension that crept into his muscles during the evening.

“You want a drink? I still have one bottle of this ridiculously posh wine that you liked.”

Loki doesn't reply. He just turns around slowly and strides towards the sofa. That seems like a “yes”, so Tony moves to the cabinet at the speed of light, grabs the remaining flask and settles down as well, careful to keep some distance from the god - just in case.

Only when the wine is already poured into the glasses does he dare to glance at his companion. Loki is quite tense, but not as much as he was a few moments ago. He still has this slightly edgy, rock look - leather trousers and high boots, although these ones are more men's style and only calf-length. The sexy top from the party was replaced by a black, fitted tee with a text “Born to be prince of the Universe”.

Tony can't help himself, he giggles quietly at the sight, because - honestly - this is simply a “Loki in a nutshell” kind of garment.

“Cool T-shirt,” he says. “Hey, I've got a nicely equipped listening room here and the full collection of Queen albums on vinyls. Best audio quality you can get out there. In case… you were interested, of course…”

The god looks at him and, for the first time since he came here, a shadow of a smile can be seen in the corners of his mouth. “I might be,” he replies and takes a big sip out of his glass.

They sit like that for a while, until Tony starts to feel that the atmosphere has warmed up a bit - the silence being more comforting than awkward at the moment - and he decides to give it a try.

“So what exactly were you doing during those three months?”

Loki drinks a bit more and puts away the glass. He briefly inspects his fingernails (only now does Tony notice that they're painted with black varnish, which looks… unexpectedly hot) and moves on to brush invisible threads off his trousers, looking everywhere but into his eyes.

"There is a hole in your sofa, Stark,” he remarks innocently, pointing at the place which Tony ripped apart in his nervous state half an hour ago.

(Seriously? And everyone says that he is a difficult case.)

“ Loki… Please…”

Miraculously - it works. The god huffs with annoyance, gulps a bit more of wine and clears his throat.

“At first… I wanted to get away from you as far as possible,” he murmurs with slight discomfort in his voice. “I roamed across the realms for about two weeks before I made up my mind and returned to Midgard.”

“And you've been here since then, just doing nothing?” There's a hint of disbelief in Tony's voice. “Sorry, I just can't imagine you limiting your activities to reading novels, watching TV series, strolling along Central Park and going to the opera.”

“That's not such a bad way to spend one's time - try it yourself one day and you shall see,” Loki retorts with a tiny, ironic smile. “However, I was busy with lots of other matters during that period. You simply weren't aware that I was the one behind them.”

That gives Tony some food for thought. Was there anything special happening within these last few weeks? He can't really think of anything, apart from… No, that’s not possible! But, yeah, a certain group whose actions Tony finds highly interesting, suddenly increased its activities in the past two months. And now that he thinks about it - some of them definitely had a sprinkle of “Loki vibe” upon them.

“Are you telling me…” He pauses briefly to sip a bit of his drink. “...That you've joined Anonymous?”

There it is! The thing that Tony hasn't seen for so long and - damn it! - he didn't even realise he missed it so much! That cheeky, smug grin lighting up the god's face.

“Being both a villain and a hero at the same time is much more gratifying than I've ever imagined,” Loki muses, his eyes sparkling with… something that might look like authentic joy. “And I love the ideas these humans have. It's the creme de la creme of Midgardian trickery and mischief.”

Right, that is such an obvious place for Loki to be in. How could he not see it? Seems that “connecting the dots” on the pictures drawn by the god of lies is really not his forte. Tony has to put away his glass, because he just can't stop giggling hysterically at the whole idea. He laughs until his eyes are filled with tears.

“What exactly do you find so funny, Stark?”

Tony wheezes, trying to catch a breath and then wipes his eyes. “Sorry, sorry. It's just… I can’t believe I didn't notice some obvious hints.”

This time, Loki snorts as well. “I've already told you - for a so-called genius–”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, no need to repeat yourself!”

They sit in silence for a while longer, Tony refilling the glasses, both of them sipping the wine.

“You know what?” Tony finally says. “Actually, that makes you even sexier than you were before.”

Loki raises his brow with utter nonchalance. “Impossible, Stark. I am by default on the highest possible level of sexiness - always.”

He puts away his glass, and leans back a bit with a teasing smile, spreading his thighs slightly and opening his arms in a gesture of presenting himself. Tony swallows hard, his mouth already watering at this alluring view. With all the drama temporarily out of the way, his mind and body are returning to their more... typical reactions, and are right now focused on Loki’s hotness with all their processing capacity.

Ah, to hell with that, why should he restrain himself any longer? Tony puts the wine glass on the table and does the exact thing he didn't allow himself to do three months ago - he literally pounces on the god and pulls him in a ferocious kiss.

Loki freezes for just a second, clearly not expecting this sudden attack, but soon he relaxes and leans into him, moaning quietly into his mouth. That only increases the heat burning inside Tony's abdomen and loins. He deepens the kiss and slides his tongue in between Loki's lips. The god arches slightly against his body, moaning a bit louder this time, and his own tongue moves forward, meeting Tony's, swirling around it in a playful, teasing motion. His hands are already on Tony’s back, the slender fingers moving along the spine and crooking a bit, adding more and more nails the lower they get.

They kiss for a longer time, both fervent and hungry for more, until they break apart for a moment, in desperate need to catch a breath. Loki is half lying on the sofa right now, his head resting against the armrest and Tony's sprawled out on him, covering the god's body like an unruly, sentient blanket.

“Do you want me to change?” Loki's voice is raspy and a bit muffled, he’s clearly out of breath as well. But the usual teasing tone is still there.

“Change? What do you–?”

“Into my female form, that is. You seemed to like her, back there at the party.”

Tony's eyebrows go slightly up. Yeah, sure, Lokiette was definitely one hell of a hot, tempting chick, no doubts about it, but–

“Naaah, I’m good here. I mean - both versions of you are absolutely sexy and I'd love to try out all possible options one day. But for now… dunno… it could feel a bit strange I guess… Like making out with someone else, and not you.”

Loki squints his eyes a bit, studying Tony's face carefully.

“You did want to make out with her,” he says finally, his voice just a tad too neutral to be sincere. “Even before you knew that was me.”

What? Now, waaaaaait just a minute…!

“Ummm… Loki? Are you… being jealous right now?”

“No, Stark, of course, I'm not.”

Oh my god! He totally is! Tony doesn’t know whether he's more confused, amused or charmed by that. And Loki already switching into the “slightly sulking mode” makes it all even more adorable!

“Stop looking at me like that, Stark! I am not jealous!”

“Easy, Lokes, easy…” Tony leans in closer to the god and starts placing slow, fiery kisses along the sharp line of his jaw. That earns him a soft whimper and effectively ceases the moping.

“I'm just saying…” He moves on to the side of the neck, enjoying the goosebumps forming on the pale skin and the slight trembling of muscles. ”...That if you'd like our little ‘frenemies with benefits’ thing to be exclusive…” He adds a bit more tongue to underline his point. “...I have absolutely no problems with that.”

“What?!” Loki jerks up suddenly, getting out of his momentary reverie-like state. “What did you say?”

“I said–”

“I heard you alright, Stark.” The god's eyes are fixed on him again, scrutinising and a bit wary. “I just don't–”

He pauses for a while, his look even more suspicious than it was before. Tony holds his gaze without saying a word, although it requires a lot of inner strength to keep his mouth shut.

“Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist,” Loki enumerates slowly. “This is what you call yourself, Stark. This is who you say you are. So how can you tell me–?”

“Damn it, Loki!” Tony is too tired to have any more drama tonight. “I haven't slept with anyone else since our first meeting and I really don't feel like changing it.”

“Oh!”

That - ladies and gentlemen - was a highly eloquent answer from one silver-tongued god of lies. Tony does everything he can not to start laughing out loud and, fortunately, he succeeds. He allows himself a little self-satisfied smile, instead.

“But you are aware that ‘being exclusive’ works both ways, right?” he teases gently. “What about you? Would you even manage that, Sir Sex-Starved-A-Lot?”

Right now, it's Loki who snickers silently and regards him with a slightly amused look. “Of course, I would, Stark.”

 “You sure? Don’t you need a few more months to try it out before you commit to it?”

Yeah, Tony is definitely too snarky for his own good sometimes, but - thankfully - the god doesn't catch the bait. He just smirks mockingly, although there's definitely something more beneath that teasing smile.

“That might come as a shock to you, Stark, but I have already tried that out. For much longer than you.”

Ooo-kay. Right. That… is a kind of shock to be honest. And it might explain a few things? Plus, it gives Tony quite a lot of additional questions to–

“No! Not a word anymore, you infuriating mortal!” Loki sounds positively feral, his voice nearly a growl. “Stop talking and start touching me. Right! Now!”

The steel tone of voice, which Tony hasn’t heard for such a long time, sends an electric shiver along his spine. It whirls around his body and plummets down into his belly. He swallows hard and winks at the god with a lop-sided, seductive smile.

“As you wish… my prince.”

Chapter Text

Tony's hands slowly move down the black fabric of Loki's T-shirt, fingers digging deeper from time to time. He prolongs the movement as much as he can, teasing, taking his time, until he finally reaches the edge of the soft material.

“Take it off,” the god purrs, his voice low and rumbling, somehow managing to sound simultaneously playful and commanding.

He arches up a bit and moves up his arms, allowing Tony to unhurriedly slide the shirt off him until it falls silently on the floor. There it is, finally uncovered; the beautifully shaped body, which - as always - makes Tony lose his mind. He lowers his head and runs his tongue along the collarbone, finishing the motion by grazing the skin with his teeth.

Loki lets out a quiet, but definitely wanton sound - a small, breathy “ohhh!”, which encourages Tony to move his mouth down a bit and to bite straight into the juicy flesh of the god's pec. This time, the response is much fiercer - a barely stiffled groan and a full set of nails digging into his back. Tony's body jerks forward, pushing itself against Loki, searching for more contact.

“Straddle me, Stark.”

It's a wonder that there's still so much composure in Loki's voice, although the raspy, aroused notes are quite audible as well. Tony moves a bit again, wondering how to change the position and sit up comfortably, taking into account the limited size of the sofa, but before he comes up with anything - the god takes matters in his hands. Literally. He makes himself comfortable on his back and then just seizes Tony, lifts him up - as if he had the weight of a feather - and places him on top of his hips. Right. Super-strength thing. Cool.

The view is even better from up there. Loki is draped artistically against the armrest of the couch, his muscles and bones creating beautiful patterns underneath the skin; its light tone nicely contrasting with the dark upholstery. His lips are parted and his eyes half closed - already dark with passion and need.

The leather underneath Tony seems really tight and probably quite restraining but it doesn't disguise the fact Loki is already hard as a rock. Well, it's not like Tony is in any different condition now. He moves forward slightly and rocks his hips a bit, rubbing his buttocks against the god's arousal.

“Mmm… Yes…! More!”

He repeats the movement again and again. Loki is moaning softly, his black nails repeatedly digging in the surface of the sofa. His own hips roll up sensually, perfectly in rhythm with Tony's moves. It's a bit like a dance - slow, erotic, half-dreamy, impossibly arousing. Too arousing, in fact, as right now Tony would gladly do anything to get out of his too tight jeans.

“Need to get the edge off?” The god's eyes are moving between Tony's face and… his current problem. The smile on Loki's face couldn't possibly be more teasing. “I don't think I will allow you to undress just yet, but… touch yourself - I want to see it.”

The command is firm but gentle - hardened steel wrapped in the softest velvet - and somehow Tony finds it even more enticing than more direct and harsh orders. It definitely doesn't help his situation, though. His hand moves towards his crotch at the speed of light and he moans loudly when he finally lets himself get some friction against his straining erection.

Ohhh! He can feel Loki's reaction underneath him! He palms himself harder, his hips rolling a bit faster now and he slowly begins to lose himself in the sensation.

“Not so fast, Stark.” The god chuckles quietly, and Tony - believe it or not - instantly stops his hand, obeying the soft order like a well-trained pet.

(Uhhh. He might want to think about this one later on. Much, much later, that is.)

He looks at Loki's face. The god is tantalisingly biting his lip, his eyes fixed on Tony.

“I cannot make my mind now,” he muses thoughtfully. “Watching you pleasure yourself is a marvellous feast. But I need those hands on me, as well…”

Tony flashes him his best playboy-ish grin. “I don't think you have to choose between these options,” he replies in a husky voice.

He moves back and gets up on his knees. Now, with a bit more space between the two of them, he can finally do the thing he's been thinking about for a longer time - unpacking the god from his sexy wrapping. His nimble hands don't need too much time for that; soon, the black leather is pulled down to a much more appropriate place - the middle of thighs - and Loki's hard cock can finally enjoy its freedom.

A few more swift moves, and Tony's jeans are opened as well and - together with his briefs - moved down as much as possible in the current position. This will do for now. He lowers himself again and takes both of their arousals in his palm.

Loki is watching him intently all the time but now his eyes close for a brief moment as the god utters a small, mewling sound, which makes Tony absolutely breathless. He tightens his grip just a tiny bit. Loki takes a sharp inhale and his eyes fly open once more.

“Yeeeees,” he growls. “Give me more, Stark!”

Suddenly, Tony's hand feels perfectly slicked; he tries an experimental stroke - yeah, the magical lube works great. He begins to move his hand slowly, up and down again, at an unhurried pace which fuels the fire burning inside him.

The god's breathing is faster now, his exhales slightly more shaky than before. Loki places one of his hands on Tony's hip, while the fingers of the other start wandering across his own chest.

Tony watches their movement with utmost interest, his own hand significantly speeding up. The long digits look incredibly sexy, skimming along the pale skin. Finally, the thumb moves a bit higher and begins to lazily circle one of the nipples. The motion is hypnotising, slow and deliberate, the circles smaller and smaller until the pad starts rubbing against the hardening bud.

Loki moans out loudly, his hips rocking up and his cock twitching deliciously in Tony's palm. Oh fuck! Tony has to freeze his hand for a brief while, unless he wants to finish here and now.

“Did I tell you to stop?” The god furrows his brows slightly, but then he snickers wickedly at the look on Tony's face. “Ohhh, it seems like I'm too much for you again, aren't I?”

He smiles impishly, and makes another beautifully sinful sound as his thumb once more teases the taut nipple. Tony swallows hard. Damn, this is definitely going to be the death of him.

It seems inevitable. Loki moves on with the show, right now rolling the already slightly swollen bud hard between his fingers and arching his back. His debaucherous whines and whimpers go straight to Tony's belly and up to his leaking cock. But it looks like he's not the only one heading straight towards the edge.

“Go on, Stark - ah! - move your damned hand! Ohhhh! Make me come, now!”

Tony's palm comes back to live, stroking both their lengths without any more restraints. It really doesn't take long before Loki's eyes shut and his body tenses rapidly. His short, sharp scream mingles with Tony's long moan, as both of them come undone underneath his fingers.

*

He didn't even register changing the position, but currently he's lying across Loki's chest once again. He can feel the tingling of magical Roomba moving around his body. After a few seconds he is clean and refreshed, and–

“Hey, did you give me the spooky Viagra again?”

Loki laughs below him, a bit weakly but with authentic amusement. “Yes, I took the liberty of enhancing your vitals. I hope you don't mind.”

Tony doesn't - in the slightest.

“So I assume that right now you'll finally fuck me properly, your highness?”

“Well, as you sound desperate for it, my mortal, how could I refuse?”

Tony is not sure why, but this “my mortal” part might have caused some conflicted feelings inside of him, ranging from outrage to delight. He will definitely have some things to unpack here.

“I will just get rid of some… unnecessary elements,” Loki mutters quietly as the all their clothes get magicked away.

In the next moment, Tony is rolled over and finds himself lying half on his back, half on his side, with the god settled just next to him.

“So what now? Some quick prep, Hogwards style?” he asks with a wide grin.

Loki responds with a similar smile, but a tad more mischievous. “Oh, it won't be so quick this time,” he remarks casually.

Tony raises his brow and the god's grin gets even wider. “Actually, there is one thing I wanted to try out.”

He moves up his hand, so that it's right between them, clearly visible, with enough space to move it freely. Tony looks at it for a while, not really understanding what is going on. For a moment, nothing's happening - Loki's hand is just resting there, relaxed, fingers slightly curled. But suddenly, the palm shines briefly with a dim, green light and when the god stretches out his index finger–

“Oh fuck!” Tony gasps. He can feel it! He can totally feel it - the slicked digit sliding gently inside him, the pleasant burn of the stretch, everything! And the fact that he can see the movement at the same time - right in front of his face - utterly blows his mind.

“I had a feeling that you might like it,” Loki beams at him. “Now, you can finally see every… little… thing… I'm doing to you.”

He slowly moves his finger forward and backward a few times and then adds a little circular motion. Holy shit! It's amazing! Much more than it should be! Tony just whines weakly, his eyes focused on the damned digit, unable to move away from it. Loki plays with him for a while, changing the motion in various ways and then… he slowly stretches out the second finger.

Uhhh… Yeah… Tony's fine, he's just fine. He might be wiggling a bit and definitely he makes quite a lot of undignified noises. More than he typically does. But there's something incredibly hot about seeing and feeling it at the same time. So when Loki turns his hand slightly, crooking his fingers and hitting his sweet spot, Tony just screams without any shame or restraint.

The game lasts for a bit longer, with Loki adding one more digit in the meantime, and by the time it's finished - Tony is a whimpering mess, literally begging the god to fuck him right now .

“Since you are asking so nicely.” Loki tries to maintain his composed and slightly patronising attitude, but it's visible that he's nearly equally desperate. Seems like his weapon of choice turned out to have a double-edged blade.

“I want you from behind this time.” The god's voice is positively wrecked, and - damn! - it's a miracle that Tony hasn't come just from the sound of it.

He moves semi-automatically, positioning himself on his elbows and knees, head down, ass up, one of his hands moving higher and grabbing the armrest to steady himself. He feels Loki's body just behind him, his hands resting firmly on his hips and then he hears his own hoarse moaning - when the god's achingly hard cock starts pushing inside him. Deeper. And deeper. And–

Loki's hand is suddenly on his own, squeezing gently, entwining their fingers together.

“You’re - ah! - fine, S-stark?”

Tony mumbles something affirmative and then the world around turns into a swirling tornado of heat and pleasure. The god starts pounding into him - the moves of his hips hard and forceful. Tony can feel the passion, need and desperation in each of these relentless thrusts.

Yes, fuck, yes! Loki's chest moves lower and lower, his head nearly resting on Tony’s shoulder, so he clearly can hear every tiniest whimper, every breathy moan. The grip of the god’s palm gets tighter, and the fingers of his other hand encircle the base of Tony's cock, stroking him hard. He is so close, so fucking close! He makes one final effort and clenches his muscles around Loki, and–

“Ah! Ahhhh! To-ohhhhh-ny…!“

It's not like anyone’s gonna believe it… But this might be the ultimate proof that Tony Stark has become a pathetic, sentimental romantic. Because it's this one, small thing - hearing Loki moaning his first name during the orgasm, right into his ear - which makes his heart skip a beat and finally shoves him over the edge.

*

They're both breathing hard; muscles trembling from exert and pleasure, limbs entangled with each other - a strengthless heap of bodies covered in sweat.

The pale hand is covering his own all the time, their fingers entwined, black nails still digging into the armrest, just a few inches away from his face. Tony is floating in the afterglow, not able to think clearly or return to reality just yet, and that might be the reason why he moves his head slightly and places a reverent kiss on one of the pointy, alabaster knuckles.

Loki's breath hitches and a gentle shiver runs through his body. He must have not regained full consciousness yet, as well, because he doesn't instantly tense, pull away or throw any ironic comment. He just lets it be… and that makes Tony absurdly and inexplicably happy.

*

They must have been lying like that for quite some time now, because a few parts of Tony's body are totally numb. He lets out a groan of dissatisfaction and tries to change his position somehow. Unfortunately, it seems like he's stuck in one of those “can’t do anything, there's a cat on my lap" scenarios. Except, it's on his back. And much, much heavier.

“Hey, there,” he mumbles, trying in vain to turn around. “Would you please get off me, you overgrown pussycat?”

“What did you call me?”

Uh, apparently the god is no longer in his half-oblivious, accepting-things-without-fuss state, but he moves up a bit, trying to comply with Tony’s request. The limited space on the small sofa and their current level of entanglement don’t make his task too easy, though. There's a bit of fumbling, a bit of foreign language swear words, a loud ripping sound and Loki's muffled “oh, to Helheim with that!”, and then–

Both of them are lying next to each other in the middle of Tony's bed, the showering magic gently flowing across their bodies. Now, that's much better!

Tony stretches a bit, noticing with delight that Loki’s abra-cadabra didn't limit itself to mere cleaning effect, it also removed the pain and numbness from his limbs. Damn, there are so many benefits of bedding a god!

The god in question is lying on his side and looking at Tony with that shit-eating grin of his.

“I’m afraid that currently there might be more holes in your sofa, Stark.”

Oh, so we're back to “Stark” again, huh? Whatever happened to “To-ohhhhh-ny”?

(No worries, Tony's sure that quite soon he'll be able to coax that one out of Loki again. Many, many times.)

But right now - there's a more pressing matter at hand.

“Are you finally staying the night, Lokes? Or should I order myself a body pillow with your photograph?”

The god huffs a small laugh, closes his eyes and stretches gracefully on the bed (a big, lazy cat, indeed).

“I'm too tired to go anywhere, Stark,” he murmurs quietly. “Just… don't expect me to be here when you wake up tomorrow. I am not exactly a… 'morning after’ kind of person.“

Sure, yeah, whatever! One step at a time, right? Tony's still overjoyed at the perspective of falling to sleep next to his favourite villain. Yeah, he's definitely becoming disgustingly sappy as he gets older. Well, sue him!

“So that means we're moving towards ‘exclusive, long-term frenemies with benefits and cuddles’ thing?”

The emerald eyes open once again, looking at him as if he lost his mind. “I do not cuddle, Stark.”

Yeah, yeah, of course not.

(Truth be told, Tony has never been a real cuddler himself, but the chance of messing with Loki in such a perfect way is definitely worth changing his habits.)

“I've got a perfect solution - I will do the cuddles and you will pretend to hate it. How about that?”

Loki mutters something under his breath and makes a show of turning around, so that Tony is facing his back now. Not that it makes him feel discouraged or something.

“Okay, I can totally do the ‘big spoon’ thing if you prefer,” he assures with a giggle and without further ado he settles himself behind the god, wrapping his arm around the chiseled torso and nuzzling softly against the pale shoulder.

For a moment, Loki goes absolutely still - it seems like he's not even breathing - but Tony holds on tight, pretending that he isn't aware of the epic inner battle unfolding right next to him.

After a few minutes, the god's body finally begins to relax and it gently leans into him. Tony smiles smugly, slowly drifting off to sleep.

*

When he wakes up, it's already morning. Loki is not here, of course, but Tony can still smell his scent on the pillow. He can't help grinning a bit at the memory of last night - damn, he really is a hopeless case.

He’d gladly stay in bed for a while longer, but - unfortunately - his bladder has a totally different opinion in that matter. Tony huffs with slight annoyance and reluctantly gets up, heading to the bathroom.

A few moments later, lighter and more content, Tony finishes washing his hands and turns around to get the towel when something catches his eye. He blinks a few times and moves closer to the huge mirror on the bathroom wall.

Yes, definitely, there is something there - on his right buttock - and he surely hasn't seen it before. It's a long dark line, something like a… tattoo? What the hell?

“Zoom in!” he orders and the mirror quickly adjusts. Tony turns his head as much as he can until he finally sees the line quite clearly.

Yeah - that’s a tattoo. And as Tony's never had problems with mirror writing, he instantly reads three words scribbled in elegant, green letters:

“Property of Loki”

The fit of hysterical laughter in the bathroom lasts long enough for Jarvis to ask if everything is alright. Of course, it is! It's never been better!

Probably, the most obvious reaction would be writing to the mischief maker this instant and raising some hell about this presumptuous staining of his perfect skin.

But, noooo, Tony won't do it. There are so many other, delightful ways to get his revenge…