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Chapter Text

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Tony drives himself to his own demise, because if he’s going down, he’s going down in style, goddammit. 

He parks his Audi in the driveway. It’s dark, but the windows glow with a soft orange light. He checks his watch; ten minutes left. 

He gets out of the car, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair to take a proper look at the house. Well, it floats somewhere between house and mansion, this thing that seems to be made entirely of glass and dark wood, surrounded by trees, overseeing the lake. He expected something dark and looming, something straight out of a horror flick from the thirties. This isn’t that. It’s cozy, almost, in a pretentious, over-the-top way.

“Fucking gods,” Tony mutters and slams the car door shut. 

He keeps an eye on the entrance of the house, but nothing happens, nobody comes out, it doesn’t even open on its own with a long screech, and isn’t that a real disappointment. Tony gets his bag from the trunk and walks up to the house, not letting himself hesitate. He checks his phone on the way. No missed calls, no texts, hell, he doesn’t even have a signal here. Of course not, what was he thinking? 

Tony sighs and slides his phone back into his pocket. Don’t try to run, his mother told him, adjusting his leather jacket to her satisfaction. Where the fuck is he even supposed to run, New Jersey? His dad was on his fourth drink when Tony left, so if he’s lucky, he’s passed out on the sofa by now and doesn’t have to think about the media circus he’ll have to deal with when he gets sober enough to smile into the nearest camera. And Jarvis will –

Ah, no. Tony takes care not to trip on the few steps of stairs that lead up to the entrance. Better not to think about that. Maybe it’s good that there’s no signal here. 

He stands in front of the door for a second and waits, not even knowing for what. Nothing happens. He doesn’t see a doorbell, so he drops his bag and hammers his fist against the door a couple times. He’s not in the mood for subtlety. 

“Hey, anyone home? Your delivery’s here! Come and pick it up within the next ten seconds or I’ll go ahead and consider our deal null and void!”

“Oh, but we haven’t made a deal yet, have we?”

Tony doesn’t flinch. He’s very proud of himself for that one. Again, fucking gods.

He turns around and sees the god in question standing far too close to Tony’s car, bent at the hip to look through the passenger window, hands folded neatly on his back. His voice carries easily over the short distance. 

“Is this your car?”

“No, I walked,” Tony deadpans, not letting the god out of his sight. 

The god – Loki, Tony reminds himself, this is Loki – straightens and smiles, a flash of white teeth in the moonlight. “All alone?”

“My nanny didn’t want to go past the ‘don’t trespass, ancient weirdo ahead’ sign. Can you get the fuck away from my car? Thanks.”

Loki does bring some distance between himself and the car, but only to come toward Tony. On second thought, Tony prefers it when Loki stayed the fuck away from him, but now it’s too late to reconsider. Well, it’s too late, full stop. 

He’s never seen Loki from up close before.

“You’re late,” Loki says, tone idle, as he starts walking up the stairs. His voice is smooth velvet, deep, way too nice to listen to. 

“Traffic,” Tony retorts, and gets a raised eyebrow in response. 

“I offered to have someone pick you up for a reason.”

“And I declined for a reason. Funny how that works, huh?”

“Hilarious,” Loki says. He sounds actually amused, the fucker. “Your name?”

“Tony. At your service, I guess. What do you wanna see, a bow or a curtsey? Or should I just get on my knees right away so we can get that over with?”

“Tony,” Loki says, apparently choosing to ignore everything else Tony said, “is not your name.”

“What, do you want to see my birth certificate?”

Loki just looks at him. Green eyes, too green. A smirk, pulling at thin lips. Something about his stare makes Tony want to take a step back, get away from him. Ancient weirdo, indeed.

“Anthony Edward Stark,” he says, voice tight. “Satisfied?”

“We’ll see.” Loki walks past Tony to the door. “I am Loki.”

“Duh.”

“Take your bag, please.”

Tony grits his teeth and picks up his bag, following Loki into the house. It’s just as nice on the inside, but Tony doesn’t have time to appreciate the interior design. He’s too busy trying to stay calm. 

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Loki asks, nearly giving Tony whiplash.

“What?”

“Tea,” Loki repeats. He motions for Tony to follow him with a light jerk of his head. “Or coffee? Something else?”

Tony didn’t expect to be offered a drink at all. “Uh. Coffee’s fine.”

Loki leads him to a kitchen. “Please, take a seat.”

Tony slowly puts his bag on the floor and sits down on one of the stools at the island. Loki turns his back to him, getting the kettle going, starting a nice looking coffee machine. He’s dressed in normal clothes, black slacks, a button-down that fits him just right, sleeves rolled up. He looks like a man. He looks tired.

“How old are you?” 

“Twenty-two,” Tony says. “You?”

“One thousand and fifty-six.” Loki pauses, hand stilling over a box with various tea bags. “No, fifty-seven.”

Huh. “That’s – old.”

“I know you think so.” Loki turns around and leans against the counter. “They tell me you volunteered?”

“Yep.”

Loki’s polite smile stays in place, but his eyes narrow by a margin. “How brave of you. Why?”

“Better me than someone else.”

“And noble, too. You know what awaits you, then?”

Tony is starting to get uncomfortable. Well. More uncomfortable. “Not… really.”

“Oh, you must know the gist of it.”

Loki puts a cup filled with steaming coffee in front of Tony and leans against the kitchen island, long, pale fingers wrapped around his own cup of tea. He looks at Tony, expectant. Tony swallows. He’s good at running his mouth, but he can’t let himself forget that this is the god who’s been holding New York in the palm of his hand for the better part of a century. 

“Three months,” Tony says carefully. “Right? And then you let me go.”

“Three lunar cycles, yes.”

Pretentious fuck. Tony rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay, whatever. So, what happens now?”

“Why, we make a deal, of course. If you’re ready?”

Tony has no idea what he’s supposed to be ready for. “Sure, big guy. Hit me with your best shot.”

Loki’s takes a sip of his tea. He puts the cup down, looking at Tony. His smile is gone, and there’s something in his eyes that makes Tony’s heart beat faster. His stomach clenches, he swallows down the lump of fear that threatens to rise up from his chest. 

“I offer you another year,” Loki says, his tone even, without looking away from Tony’s eyes. “An entire year of safety, health and prosperity for your city and every soul who lives in it. In exchange, I will demand nothing but your obedience for eighty-seven full days, starting as soon as the clock strikes midnight. Do we have a deal?”

Tony’s eyes flicker to the clock of the wall. It’s almost midnight, just a minute left. He can hear it ticking. He looks back at Loki, at the hand he is offering him, and swallows hard

“Deal,” he says, and shakes Loki’s hand. 

Loki’s smile widens into something sharp. The grip of his hand is firm. The ceiling light flickers. Loki is too tall, takes up far too much space in the room, and for a moment, Tony feels dizzy. It’s over as soon as it started, and Tony wonders if his imagination is playing tricks on him. He resists a shiver, determined not to let Loki know that he’s fucking creepy.

Tony is relieved when Loki lets go of his hand.

“Lovely,” Loki says, like everything is perfectly normal. “Welcome, I suppose. We’ll go over a few rules tomorrow, but for now, it’s late. Go and take your bag upstairs, second door to the right.”

Right, whatever, as long as Tony doesn’t have to be in the same room as Loki any longer. He stands up and takes the coffee cup. Loki raises a brow, but doesn’t comment. Tony picks up his bag again and turns to leave the room. 

In the doorway, he stops. “Hey, quick question.”

“Yes?”

“Do you have WIFI or are you too high and mighty for that?”

1

Tony wakes up in a warm, soft bed. He blinks his eyes open, still sticky with sleep, and just lies there for a while, trying not to think about anything at all. He’s not good at that, unfortunately. 

With a sigh, he props himself up on his elbows. It’s a nice room, all things considered, with a pretty view of the lake and an en-suite. At least they’re not going to have to share a bathroom. Then again, do gods even piss like normal people? Who knows. 

Tony sits up. He’s still exhausted, but that’s no wonder, he can’t have gotten more than a few hours of sleep. It’s barely light out. He’s surprised he fell asleep at all. He curled up under the blanket with no real hope right after he found the room, his phone clutched to his chest. There is WIFI, thank fuck, and there’s still a single text waiting for him that he hasn’t replied to yet.

Tony finds his phone between the sheets and stares at the too bright screen for a long moment.

Text me if you can ok?

He feels a spike of guilt for not answering the night before. He just wanted to keep it, is the thing. At least his best friend hasn’t forgotten him, even though they are currently several states apart. Tony wipes a hand over his face and types a reply.

Still alive Platypus! He’s weird af but didn’t dismember me yet so I guess it’ll be fine

Yeah, that’s a low standard right there. Tony sends the text, anyway. He doesn’t expect Rhodey to reply anytime soon, he’s probably already off doing awesome military stuff. Tony drops his phone and pads to the bathroom as quietly as he can.

He uses the toilet. Brushes his teeth. Takes a shower, too, just to have something to do, an excuse to stay in his room a little longer. His room. He’s lucky, probably. He’s heard reports from other cities, other gods, where the three-month-pets are kept in cells, or naked and leashed by their god’s feet. A room and an actual bed he can sleep in, that’s a better start than he expected. That’s no reason to be optimistic, though, maybe the cell and leash are right around the corner. 

When he leaves his room, the house is quiet. Dark. He hasn’t heard a single noise since he woke up, so maybe Loki is still asleep. Does he sleep? Tony barely knows anything how gods work, nobody does, and that lack of knowledge is starting to get on his nerves now that he’s dealing with one personally. 

He goes downstairs. There is a faint light at the end of the corridor, a door that has been left ajar. Tony hesitates, but then, fuck it, he’s not going to sneak around this house like a frightened dog. 

He moves toward the door in question and takes a careful look through the crack. He doesn’t see much, so he opens the door further – books , that’s the first thing he thinks, lots and lots and lots of books. One of the walls is made entirely of glass, but the others are lined with shelves all the way up to the ceiling. There’s a comfortable looking sitting area, a sofa and an armchair, both a swanky shade of emerald green, surrounded by piles of books on the thick rugs on the ground. The light is coming from a floor lamp, soft and inviting. 

“Knocking is the done thing, usually.”

Tony stares at Loki, who is sitting in the armchair, both of his legs thrown over the armrest. The scene looks way to human. Loki isn’t even wearing slacks like the night before, he’s in softer looking pants and a fucking henley of all things. That doesn’t help much, though, he still looks like hell warmed over. His skin is sickly pale, his cheekbones too prominent. It’s a shame, he’d be really damn pretty otherwise. 

“Good morning to you, too,” Tony says brightly, earning himself a flat look. “Listen, I’ve been thinking, and I really do think we should just get it over with.”

“What do you mean, exactly?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.” Tony flops down on the sofa across from Loki, resting his feet on the low table between them. “Do you want to fuck me? Or can I just suck your dick and call it a day?”

Loki’s looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “No, thank you.”

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing at all.” Loki flings his feet off the armrest and crosses his legs, closing the book he was reading. He moves with a lazy – effortless – elegance that’s already getting on Tony’s nerves. “Where did you get the idea I would want either?”

“Well, I kinda just figured. What with the entire obedience thing.”

Loki smiles. “Have you met somebody who stayed with me before?”

Stayed with me, nice euphemism. “Once, yeah. She said you’d been okay to her. No rape, no torture, just three months of rainbows and unicorns.”

“I’m overjoyed she remembered it that way,” Loki says, smile turning into a wide grin. “Somehow, I get the impression that you did not believe her.”

Tony holds his gaze, ignoring the shiver of instinctive fear that is currently travelling through his spine. “If someone came back from staying more or less voluntarily with an ancient alien who can control everything from the weather to full-blown epidemics and said all they did together was paint their nails and do their hair, would you believe them?”

Loki’s expression doesn’t really change, and somehow he still seems pleased. “It does seem naive, yes. More or less?”

“Huh?”

“More or less voluntarily, you said.”

Tony huffs. “Sorry, do you want me to act like all your guests are here out of their own free will, because you’re just that great or something? Not happening.”

“Are you not here out of your own free will, then?”

“I volunteered. Thought we’d settled that already.”

Loki just looks at him, and this time, Tony averts his gaze. He glances out of the window, fiddling with the hem of his jeans. Loki’s staring makes him feel like he’s cracked open and raw. 

“There are things you do because you want to and things you do because someone has to,” Tony says, picking at the seam at the edge of the armrest. “Important difference.”

“Indeed,” Loki says, folding his hands under his chin. “Did you grow up in New York?”

“Yeah.” Tony hesitates. “I studied in Boston, though.”

“A godless city, isn’t it?”

Tony rolls his eyes at Loki’s curious tone, as if he doesn’t know damn well that it is. “Godless as they come, yeah. It’s –“ He glances at Loki, his steady smirk, attentive eyes. “The sky’s darker there, you know. There are a lot less people around, and still everyone’s sick all the time. Barely any kids. Lots of fights. Wasn’t fun.”

“I know. That is why we came, after all.”

Tony snorts. “Yeah, right.”

“You don’t believe that, either?”

“That you only came down here to help the poor little mortals who ruined their planet?  Out of the sheer goodness of your alien hearts?” Tony grins, showing his teeth. “No. I’m not naive.”

Loki grins back, but drops the topic. “I’m sure you want to know what your stay here will entail.”

“Sure. Can I pick the nail polish? ‘Cause I’ve been thinking hot-rod red.”

Loki laughs at that, bright and warm in a way Tony didn’t expect. “If you’re good, yes. For now, we’ll just settle on a few rules and we’ll see how you handle them.”

“I don’t handle rules well, usually.”

“I look forward to seeing you try, then,” Loki says, sounding like he means it. “Don’t forget that you promised me obedience.”

Right. “What happens when I don’t do my part of the deal, anyway?”

“I don’t fulfill mine.”

Tony manages a joyless smile. No, he doesn’t want to be here, for fuck’s sake, but – he is here, now, and it’s not like he wants the sky above New York to go dark. He flutters his eyelashes. “Lay it on me, then, sir.”

Loki gives him a long, unimpressed look. “Honesty.”

“What?”

“First rule, Anthony, do keep up. Honesty. No lies, and no performances. You’re not here to act, and I won’t force you to do anything at all. If you don’t want to obey, by all means, don’t, but be ready to suffer the consequences.”

Wait. Hold up. Tony shakes off the sliver of fear that wants to curl around his tongue; he’s not going to sit here stuttering. “What consequences?”

“Loss of privileges,” Loki says easily. “Tasks you might not enjoy. Pain, perhaps.”

“Oh, okay. So, just so we’re on the same page here – you won’t force me to do shit, but if I don’t do shit, you’ll punish me?”

“What would your vow of obedience be worth if you could get away with disobedience without a punishment?”

Tony mulls that over. “If I disobey and you punish me, would our deal still go through?”

Loki blinks slowly. 

“Because by that logic, it should,” Tony adds. “If punishments are an option, disobedience is, too. Or you wouldn’t be talking about punishments at all.”

“Ah.” Loki’s smile comes back, slow and pleased. “Yes, well done. A single or even several cases of disobedience wouldn’t hinder the deal, no, as long as you accepted punishment after.”

“Gotcha. Next?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Next rule, Loki,” Tony drawls, crossing his arms. “Do keep up.”

“Sassy, aren’t you?” Loki says, sounding not at all offended. “You may not leave the house without my permission. Within the house, you may move freely, as long as you stay away from locked doors.”

Tony shrugs. “Okay.”

“This is a given, I suppose, but you will follow my orders.”

“Right.”

“And you will take care of yourself.”

“Uh huh.”

“Three meals a day. You’ll be cooking.”

“Oh,” Tony says. “Wait. For you?”

“For both of us, yes, obviously. Problem?”

“Uh. No.”

Loki quirks a brow, amused, but lets it go. “I expect a minimum of five hours of sleep every night. One hour of exercise every day. Apart from that, as long as I haven’t given you an order, you may do with your time what you wish. You’ll keep your room and yourself tidy and clean. You may help yourself to as many books as you like, but you’ll put them back in their place when you’re done with them. You may call your friends or family, but I value my privacy, so you’re not to tell them anything personal about me. Oh, and most importantly: if you want something, ask.”

Tony waits, but Loki doesn’t say anything else. Tony frowns. “That’s it?”

“For now, yes. Repeat everything, please. I’d hate to have to punish you just because you misunderstood a rule.”

“Bullshit.”

Loki stays perfectly still, even his smile stays in place. He looks at Tony without blinking for a long, unpleasant moment, then, “Excuse me?”

“Too much wiggle room,” Tony says, a bit too quietly. He clears his throat. “Does going on the balcony upstairs count as leaving the house? What counts as exercise in your book? What if I don’t manage five hours of sleep just because I can’t fucking sleep? What’s personal info – would you put me over your lap if I told my best friend that you like tea better than coffee? All of that’s pretty vague, so either you’re giving me access to a lot of loopholes, or you’re upping your chances of punishing me.”

Loki stares at him for a moment longer. Tony holds his gaze, stubborn, and watches as Loki’s lips part with a silent exhale. His eyes are bright with something akin to joy, crinkling at the corners. 

“Go and get something to write,” he says, nodding at the desk at the other end of the room. “Oh, and make a fresh pot of tea. I feel like we’ll be here a while.”

*

“Fucking ridiculous,” Tony mutters around the nail he’s holding between his teeth. Absolutely goddamn batshit crazy. 

He pins the first page against the door and swings the hammer. The sound echoes through the house, but Tony pays that no mind. He adds the second page next to the first one, and then the third page under them. Three whole pages filled with his own handwriting, and at the end, two signatures. His own and Loki’s – the latter looks surprisingly messy, although Tony still sees Loki putting his name down with an exaggerated, elegant flourish. 

Asshole. 

Tony spins the hammer in his hand and goes back downstairs. It’s late afternoon, soon he’ll have to make dinner. He spent all day running around and fetching stuff – tea, sandwiches for lunch, tea again, more paper, a second pen – and he doesn’t really like the thought of playing the guy’s servant for the next three months, but well. Could be worse. He thought it would be worse. 

Loki is waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, frowning. Tony tries very hard not to look scared, and he doesn’t, he isn’t, it’s just that something about Loki creeps him the fuck out. It doesn’t help that Loki is way too tall. When Tony comes to stand on the second to last step of the stairs, Loki is still taller than him. Now, Tony’s aware he’s fun-sized, but this is just unfair. 

“What?” he asks, annoyed. 

Loki looks at the hammer in Tony’s hand and back at Tony’s face with something like resignation in his eyes. “Where did you get that?”

“Uh, the supply closet next to the kitchen?” Tony walks past Loki, taking care not to get too close to him. “Door wasn’t locked, so.”

“You nailed your rules to the door?”

“Well, you told me to put your rules on my bedroom door, so, yes.”

“I was thinking about, oh, I’m not sure. Sellotape?”

“Should‘ve said that, then.”

“Aren’t you tired of arguing yet?” Loki asks, following Tony. 

“Are you?”

Loki grins at him, which is answer enough. The bastard could have gone on and on for days, probably; during their negotiations earlier it became clear that Loki lives for that kinda stuff. He uses words like Tony uses numbers, fast, without thinking, and still every shot is a hit. Loki doesn’t stutter or fumble for the right thing to say, he uses every single syllable on purpose, and every sentence is just a rug thrown over another trapdoor. 

“We’ll eat in the dining room later,” Loki says, unassuming, and watches Tony put the hammer back into the supply closet. “If you need me, I’ll be in the library.”

“Yeah, okay.” Tony steps back out into the hallway, and Loki doesn’t move. “Listen, you don’t have to look over my shoulder the whole time, alright? It’s creepy. Shoo.”

“Did you just tell me to shoo?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that. Let me rephrase – fuck off.”

Loki sighs, but he turns away from Tony to leave. “Perhaps I should have added a rule about respect.”

“Too late, honeybear.”

Loki disappears into the library, and Tony stands in the hallway for a moment, feeling lost. He takes a breath, runs a hand over his chest. He’s fine. Peachy. 

He goes to the kitchen. Lets his fingers dance over the stove top, peers into the next best cabinet, looks up at the cookbooks that sit on a shelf to the side. Fuck. What is Loki getting out of this, anyway? Maybe he just does this shit once a year because he wants a maid. There are no rules about cleaning the entire house, thankfully; Tony thinks he’d spontaneously combust if he had to go around vacuuming and dusting. Maybe in a flimsy little maid outfit to top it all off. He shudders. Yeah, he should be glad it’s just cooking, probably.

He pulls one of the cookbooks out at random. Can’t be that hard, right? 

Right.

Chapter Text

1

“Interesting,” Loki says a few minutes after seven, pulling the gooey mass on his plate up with his fork. “Very interesting.”

“It’s mac and cheese,” Tony says, scowling. “I burned it a bit, sure, but it’s perfectly edible. Dinner. You wanted dinner, so. There you have it.”

“Your efforts are greatly appreciated,” Loki says, dry as sand. “Sit down. Wine?”

Tony lets himself drop on the chair across from Loki. He only set the table for two because the rules are very clear about that; Loki wants them to eat together at least twice a day. Tony watches, annoyed, as Loki pours them the wine Tony picked out. 

“You have good taste regarding wine, at least,” Loki says, giving Tony a smile. “An excellent choice.”

That smile’s dangerous, Tony thinks suddenly, really fucking dangerous. You can get addicted to smiles like that if you don’t watch out. There is a confused flutter in his stomach. He pushes it down, keeps his face even. “Glad you approve.”

“I do.” Loki takes a sip of wine and then starts prodding at the mac and cheese again. “Perhaps you could try to boil the macaroni next time, hm?

“I did. They’re al dente.”

Loki looks at him, and for a moment Tony thinks he’s angry, but then he realizes that Loki is just trying very, very hard not to laugh. His mouth is twitching. 

Tony breaks. A crooked grin, a huff of laughter. “Listen, I know it’s terrible, I know. God, my mom would be heartbroken.”

“How so?”

Tony’s grin flickers. “She’s Italian. Pasta is, you know. Holy.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Macaroni and cheese, a classic Italian dish.”

“Shut up,” Tony says, picking up the fork just to point it at Loki. “At the end of my three months you’ll miss my cooking skills, just you wait.”

Loki snorts and takes a bite, chewing slowly. “Well, it is edible.”

“Told you so. Can’t punish me as long as it’s edible.”

“Yes, you made sure of that, didn’t you?” Loki says idly. “Have you spent much time in Italy?”

Tony pauses, taken aback. “Not really. A summer here and there.”

“Do you speak Italian?”

“Non così bene come vorrebbe mia madre. Perchè?”

“Pura curiosità.”

Tony blinks at Loki. “ You speak Italian?”

“So to say, yes.” Loki lifts his shoulders. “I’ve been to Rome. A friend of my brother is watching over it. He’s quite fond of the food.”

A friend of my brother, Tony notes, instead of a friend of mine. “Did you get to choose?”

Loki looks at him, a little too sharp. “Choose?”

“Your city. Did you get to pick, or…?”

Loki eats in silence for a few seconds, then he says, “Some of us, yes. New York was not my first choice, if that is what you want to know.”

Huh. Tony wonders who decided who went where, and why. Why, yeah, that’s the most interesting bit. Tony still doesn’t buy the whole charity act. “What was your first choice?”

“Las Vegas.”

“Vegas?” Tony can’t help it, he laughs. As far as he knows, Vegas is godless. “Really?”

“Yes. I wanted casinos and magic shows, instead I got Broadway and misery.”

Tony hides his laugh in his glass of wine. They eat in silence that’s not as awkward as it could be. The food tastes like shit, and neither of them empty their plates, but Tony doesn’t let himself be offended. It’s not like he cares what Loki thinks, really. After dinner, Loki tells Tony not to forget to take care of the mess in the kitchen, and Tony glares at him, but does it just to have something to do. He calls Rhodey when he’s back in his room, but doesn’t talk to him for very long. He doesn’t know what to say. He lies awake for a long time and thinks. And thinks. And thinks.

He’s already fucking bored.

2

8am, breakfast. 1pm, lunch. 7pm, dinner. That’s what they agreed on, and Tony handles it excellently on day two, if he may say so himself. Well, more or less. 

A bowl of cheerios in the morning. Loki wrinkles his nose in reaction, but otherwise doesn’t protest. 

Sandwiches again for lunch. Loki eats them without looking, hunched over something important on his desk. Tony lingers in the doorway, watching, hesitating. He doesn’t like this. At all. 

“Hey,” he says. 

Loki looks up. 

“I wanted – listen, do I really have to ask for permission when I want to leave the house? I’m not ten, you know.”

“Feel free to check your list to make sure, but I believe we both agreed on that rule, so yes, I’m afraid you must.”

Tony glares at him, but Loki just holds his gaze, waiting. Smiling. Expectant. He’s enjoying this, the bastard; Tony can tell by the way Loki’s gaze flickers over Tony’s face as if to try to take in even the tiniest reaction. 

“I wanted to go for a run around the lake,” Tony gets out, plastering on a big smile. “You know, for exercise. Can I?”

Loki tilts his head to the side. Still waiting. 

I’m going to murder you with one of your fountain pens, Tony thinks and widens his grin a little more. “Please, Loki?”

“What did we say about performances, Anthony?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Tony’s grin falls. “Fine! Can I go or do you want me to run in circles in the hallway for an hour?”

“Yes, of course you may go. Two rounds around the lake should suffice.”

Tony narrows his eyes. “My list upstairs says one is enough.”

“And I say you will do two until you learn to ask for permission without making such a fuss.”

Punishment. Right. Tony feels his face heat up in both anger and humiliation. “That’s messed up.”

“Remind me, what did we agree on regarding orders and punishments?” Loki asks, catching Tony off-guard. 

“What?”

“If you need me to stop, what do you say?”

Oh, that. Tony groans. “Red, yes, I know. I’m not –“

“And if you need to pause and negotiate, what do you say?”

“Yellow. And green if I’m good to go. I’m not fucking stupid, I remember.”

“I could never think you were stupid,” Loki says, tone still easy. “Two rounds around the lake as punishment for being difficult. Color?”

“Green,” Tony snaps, turning around. “Fuck you, too.”

“Oh, I think not,” Loki murmurs behind him, completely unbothered. “And take a shower after.”

“I’m not a barbarian, of course I’m gonna take a shower after!”

Asshole. 

3

Tony’s still pissed when he wakes up, far too early. Loki’s probably still asleep, anyway, so he leaves the house without asking and runs around the lake. Twice. He doesn’t have the right shoes, and he doesn’t really like running at all, and the lake is just a little too big to run around – twice – and god, he just wants to go home. 

His lungs hurt when he’s back in the house. Every breath burns. He ran too fast for too long and too soon; he’s in shape, sure, but he’s not used to this. His knees feel a little weak. He takes a long shower, and after that goes downstairs to make coffee. There’s no light in the library today, and upstairs, the door at the end of the corridor that must lead to Loki’s bedroom is closed. Still asleep, probably, yes. Maybe he doesn’t even know. 

Then again – Oh, I’ll know, Loki said during their negotiations, when Tony asked how the fuck Loki will even know how much sleep Tony gets or how many rounds he runs around the lake if he’s not even there to watch. It’s not like he’s right behind Tony the whole time, looking over his shoulder. It doesn’t make sense, but Tony doesn’t think Loki was lying. It’s magic, probably. The whole house is magic – the clothes Tony puts upstairs in the hamper disappear overnight and turn up again clean and fresh in his closet, and the kitchen is always stocked with exactly what he needs. 

Tony hates magic. 

He makes pancakes. Making pancakes can’t be that difficult. And it isn’t, but he still ends up burning a couple, after which he’s tempted to set the entire kitchen on fire. But it’s nearly eight, so he slams them on two plates and glowers at the fridge until it materializes the maple syrup Tony remembers from when he was a kid. 

Loki is already sitting in the dining room when Tony comes in. He’s reading, and his eyes stay focused on the page for a moment longer even as he turns his face toward Tony. “Good morning.”

“Hi,” Tony says and puts one plate in front of Loki and the other across from him. “If you say a single bad word about these I’m going to make sure all your food is underseasoned from now on.”

“That’ll be difficult for you, since you don’t know how to season it properly in the first place.”

True, but hey. “Well, I don’t have to cook for you, jackass. That’s all on you.”

“Fair enough. Did you enjoy your run?”

His voice is calm. Pleasant. It makes about a dozen warning bells go off in Tony’s head. 

He glares at Loki, pulling out his chair. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Don’t.”

Tony stills. “What?”

“Don’t sit down,” Loki explains. He closes his book and sets it aside. “Come here.”

Before Tony can say anything, the plate with his pancakes disappears. Just vanishes. Into thin air. All that’s left are a few emerald sparks of light. 

“Uh,” Tony says. “Did you just –“

“I would prefer not to repeat myself.”

“What the – wait, because of the run, right? You’re sending me to my room without dinner? Is that it? What am I to you, fifteen?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s breakfast, for one thing, and of course I’m not forbidding you to eat. Now come here and kneel.”

Tony stares at him. 

“There’s no need for that kind of look,” Loki says, almost soothing. “I’m not going to harm you.”

“So, what, you just want me to suck you off? As a punishment?”

Loki looks at him blankly. “Now, who said anything about that? I won’t let you sit at the table this morning, that’s all.”

Tony isn’t sure if that’s any better. “I’m not going to eat on the floor like a dog –”

“I didn’t plan to make you eat from a bowl, but it’s not a terrible idea.”

Tony feels himself go pale.

“Ah.” Loki studies him for a moment. ”Yellow?”

Tony nods stiffly. 

“I don’t mean to push too far. All I plan to do is have you kneel here by my feet and feed you myself. Nothing more than that.”

“That’s weird.”

“Some might think so, yes.”

Tony grinds his teeth. Loki raises a brow. They indulge in an intricate staring match for a minute or two. Unfortunately, Tony loses.

“Green,” he mutters. 

“Lovely. Then come here.”

His stomach churning, Tony walks around the table. Loki waits patiently and doesn’t say a word until Tony is on his knees right next to his chair, facing him. The hard floor is uncomfortable and Tony is seething. He makes sure to let Loki know by staring up at him with every ounce of silent anger he can muster.

“You may knock at my door anytime you need something,” Loki says, unexpectedly. “You wrote that down yourself during our negotiations.”

Tony keeps his mouth shut. He did write that down, it’s on his list upstairs. But it’s a silly fucking rule, the entire situation is insane, so of course he didn’t knock. He doesn’t need Loki’s permission to do anything at all – except he kind of does, of course, because that’s the deal. And if Tony doesn’t play along –

“Open.”

Tony looks at the piece of pancake Loki is holding between two fingers. For a second, he’s so stunned that he forgets to be mad. “You’re actually serious?”

“Yes.”

“You’re fucked up,” Tony informs him, glancing between Loki’s fingers and his face.

Loki shoots him a knowing look. “If you bite me, I will slap you. Now open.”

Tony doesn’t manage a reply. He doesn’t understand how Loki can just sit there like this is the most normal thing in the world, like he’s always got people kneeling at his feet just because he’s decided he wants to hand feed them. Tony feels himself flush again. He shouldn’t have knelt at all.

“Either this or I’ll take your phone until tomorrow morning,” Loki says, tone still light.

Bastard.

Tony opens his mouth, and when Loki’s hand is close enough, Tony bites down on his finger. At once, Loki’s other hand is in his hair and pulls his head back, and then he slaps his face hard enough to turn his head. 

Tony stills, eyes wide. His cheek burns, and his heart is pounding. He resists the urge to touch his face, instead he digs his fingers into his thighs. Goosebumps travel down his spine, starting from the sting where Loki pulled at his hair. 

Not a joke, then. Good to know. 

“Open,” Loki says again. Calmly. 

Tony looks back up at him. For some reason, Loki’s face softens.

“Enough,” he says quietly. “This doesn’t have to be so difficult.”

“Easy for you to say,” Tony says flatly. “You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?”

“Not at all.”

He holds his hand out again. Tony stares at it for a moment, the chunk of pancake covered in syrup, making Loki’s fingertips all sticky. He swallows and opens his mouth. Loki places the piece carefully between Tony’s lips. Tony chews and swallows. The consistency is off. 

“Too many eggs, I think,” Loki says gently. “But still very good, for a first try. Color?”

Tony gives in and rubs his cheek, scowling. The skin still stings. “Green.”

“Do you like the syrup?”

“I guess.” It comes out weak, too quiet, and his gaze wanders away. He doesn’t do mortification, usually, but right now, he wants the uncomfortable floorboards to open up and swallow him whole. 

“Eyes on me, please,” Loki says. 

He waits until Tony looks at him again, then he picks up another piece and offers it to him. Tony eats. Loki reminds him to keep looking at him several times, until Tony’s skin tingles with it – the way Loki is looking at him, just him. He barely even checks what he’s doing when he reaches for his plate to offer Tony more annoyingly dense pancake chunks. It’s like Loki sucks all the oxygen out of the air, because suddenly Tony finds breathing really difficult. Every second now, he keeps thinking, every second now he’ll stand up and spit straight into Loki’s face for making him do this. He doesn’t, though. Loki is gentle. Too gentle. Wipes under Tony’s lower lip with a warm thumb when a few droplets of syrup drip from his fingers, asks him if he’s thirsty. Holds his own glass of water for Tony to drink. Barely eats anything himself. 

“There we go,” Loki says eventually, when the plate is empty. “That was excellent, Anthony. Well done.”

Tony finds himself staring at Loki’s sticky fingers. Wonders for just a brief second what it would be like to lick them clean. His stomach plummets.

“You may stand up,” Loki says, using a napkin to clean his fingers. “Take this to the kitchen, please.”

Tony’s legs are asleep. They sting like a bitch when he carries the empty plate to the kitchen. He drops it in the sink and grabs the edge of the counter, needing something to hold onto. Breathe. In, out, in, out. His skin itches. He’s not going to be putty in the guy’s hands, for fuck’s sake. He’s not going to – kneel at his feet and look up at him, all wide-eyed and docile. Green eyes, too green, strangely warm. His thumb on Tony’s lower lip. The sting of that slap. Tony’s face still feels hot. Tony’s probably all too obvious erection.

“Typical,” he mutters, then bends over the sink to splash some cold water into his face. His dick has never had any mentionable self-preservation instinct, so of course it doesn’t start being reasonable now.

Fuck.

4

He keeps thinking about it. He doesn’t want to keep thinking about it, but it’s not like he can help it. He sits across from Loki at breakfast, eating food that passes as mediocre only when you have a very vivid imagination, and stares at his hands as subtly as he can.

Loki doesn’t mention the incident. He makes infuriating small talk about books, and the worst thing is that he seems actually interested in what Tony has to say. Even though Tony doesn’t say much. He’s decided to show Loki the cold shoulder.

In the afternoon, he pokes his head into the library. “Can I go for a run, pretty please? Or do I have to beg you on my knees or something? That’s a kink of yours, right?”

“You may go,” Loki says, not even looking up from his desk. “Two rounds.”

“Yeah, fuck you, too.”

6

Tony has a couple flaws. If you ask his dad, he’ll huff and mutter not just a couple, and if you ask his mum, she’ll say that’s nice, darling, we should have dinner sometime, but in the end that doesn’t matter, because he’s acutely aware of all his flaws himself. 

At the moment, he thinks that the worst one is the complete lack of self control. 

He bites down on his left hand to keep from making noises. His breaths come fast, he’s pressing his forehead against the wet tiles.  When he comes into his own fist, thinking about Loki’s fucking hands, he lets out a choked groan. 

He catches his breath, shivering even though the water is still hot. After a moment, he straightens and rinses himself off. He turns off the water and runs a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his face. Fuck. 

He leaves the bathroom and gets dressed. He should have brought more clothes. Three months, he knew he’d be here for three months, and still he packed stuff for a weekend trip or something. He’s glad that Loki has this magical laundry service going on, but Tony’s tired of wearing the same three outfits all the time. 

When he goes downstairs to make lunch, he’s still jittery. The orgasm didn’t really improve anything – but surprise there – it just added some extra points of shame, tipping the scale from deeply uncomfortable to unbearable. 

At least Loki is nowhere to be seen. The library is empty, so he’s probably in his bedroom upstairs. He spends a lot of time in there, doing god knows what,  but at least that gave Tony the chance to explore the house without Loki looking over his shoulder. He knows his way around pretty well by now. It’s weird that he won’t see Loki for hours at a time, but when it’s time to eat Loki appears downstairs like clockwork, looking exhausted. 

He always looks exhausted. 

He prefers to eat something light for lunch, and he usually eats at his desk. Tony brings him a soggy salad and hates the way Loki smiles at him, as if the salad is anything special, as if he’s actually pleased. Tony has no idea what’s going on in Loki’s head at any given second, but that smile looks sincere, and that’s the worst thing. 

“Did you enjoy your run?” Loki asks, and this time it just sounds warm, no hidden threat under calm words. 

Tony, already on his way out of the room, lingers in the doorway. That warm voice – every shot a hit – could lull him in if he let it, so easily. Thinly veiled threats and slaps when he’s been bad, gentle warmth when he’s behaving. The asshole knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“It was fine,”  Tony says tightly. “See you at dinner.”

Loki lets him go. 

*

The kitchen is a mess, of course. It always is when Tony is done cooking, because he hasn’t yet figured out how to keep that from happening. Maybe it’s just a natural side effect. Dinner turned out okay, though – well, the pesto tastes a little odd, but the gnocchi look good enough and nothing’s burned, so Loki should learn to count his blessings. 

Tony stands there, staring at the pan, and listens to the tick tock tick tock of the clock on the wall. He’s running late already. In the evenings, Loki always sits in the dining room a few minutes before seven, and he doesn’t make a fuss if Tony is one or two minutes late – Tony made sure to give himself a five minute range of tolerance in each direction during their negotiations – but now… 

Well, Tony watches the five minutes tick by. Loki’s sitting at the table right now, waiting, eyes flickering up from his book to check the time. Hell, he’s probably pleased – he’s getting something out of this, after all, out of the entire rules and punishment thing. He has been waiting for Tony to fuck up, just so he can punish him again – tell him to kneel, handfeed him like a pet getting treats by the table even though you swore you’d never do that when you first got it. Something sweet. Something precious. Wait. Punishment. 

Right, yes. 

Tony checks the time. Eighteen minutes late. Enough? Maybe. Maybe not. 

He should have pestered Loki more about making clear which punishments happen when and how and why. 

Tony enters the dining room twenty minutes late, carrying a tray with two plates and glasses, a bottle of wine squeezed under his arm. As expected, Loki is already there, but he doesn’t spare Tony a glance. 

He just pats the table in front of him. “Both plates here, if you would.”

“Oh, come on. It was just twenty minutes –“

“But rules are rules, aren’t they?” Loki cuts him off, his voice a low purr. “Come here.”

And there it is again, the heat in Tony’s stomach. Loki’s voice doesn’t have any right to be this hot. Especially not while giving orders. 

Tony’s step falters. What the fuck is wrong with him? This wasn’t the plan. The plan was to keep a straight head and get on Loki’s nerves as much as possible until the time was up. And now here Tony is, desperate for – something –

He just wants to see if he imagined things. That’s all. It’s all in his head, probably, he’s going crazy in this weird house with this weird man, god, whatever. He doesn’t know what Loki wants, but Tony sure as hell isn’t going to give it to him. He just wants to see… 

Loki is looking at him. Waiting. There’s something curious in his eyes, not yet knowing but almost, and Tony’s heart jumps into his throat. Fuck. 

“Anthony,” Loki says, soft, almost sing-song. 

Nobody has ever called him that before. Tony never cared much for it, he has always been Tony as far as he is concerned. Loki using that name feels intimate. And utterly out of place. 

He goes to Loki and stops next to his chair. He puts the plates on the table. 

“Down,” Loki says. 

Tony grits his teeth and kneels. Loki considers him for a moment, then averts his eyes. He starts to eat, frowning slightly at the taste, and does – well. 

Nothing else. 

Tony stares up at him, waiting. Fuming. But Loki doesn’t look at him at all, he just eats one bite after the other, seemingly without a care in the world. 

“Are you serious?” Tony asks, moving to get up. “If you’re just gonna ignore me, I’ll –“

“Stay where you are.”

Tony stills. The tone sends a fucking shiver down his spine. “Or what, you’ll hit me again?”

“If I say yes, will that keep you from moving or just encourage you?”

Tony’s breath catches in his throat. Loki doesn’t glance at him, but he lets out a quiet hum that sounds exactly like that’s what I thought. Tony doesn’t move, just glares at Loki, and Loki keeps ignoring him until he’s finished eating. 

“What’s in this, exactly?” he asks, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “The taste is… peculiar.”

“What?”

“The sauce.”

“Pesto,” Tony corrects, distracted by the sight of Loki’s hands that are pulling the other plate closer to himself. “Uh. Walnuts, and – I probably messed up the seasoning –“

“I don’t dislike it,” Loki says, putting a stop to Tony’s rambling. “Well?”

The bored drawl of Loki’s voice is like a punch to the gut, adding to the heat in Tony’s belly. His hands threaten to shake with the effort to hold still, to keep from fiddling or reaching out to touch. 

He opens his mouth. Loki gives him one of the little dumplings to eat, placing it delicately on Tony’s tongue. For a second Tony thinks he won’t be able to get anything down, but then he chews and swallows on autopilot, gaze flickering as he tries to take in every single one of Loki’s reactions. They’re not many. Loki looks as pale and tired as usual, dark shadows under his too green eyes that show no sign of sharing any of Tony’s reactions. Tony’s sure that his own face is flushed, pupils blown wide, but Loki is just sitting there. Breaths even, taking his sweet time as he picks at the food with his fingers before choosing what piece to give to Tony next. Tony wouldn’t be surprised if Loki started humming to himself. 

Tony can’t stop staring at him. Fuck, but Loki is hot. Even though he’s too pale, even though he always looks a little sick. His hair seems soft, perfect to bury a hand in, and there’s a sharpness to his features that Tony likes. The shirt he’s wearing shows off his slim waist, and his hands are way too nice to look at. If the circumstances were different, Tony wouldn’t have any qualms whatsoever about hooking up with him, but this is – this is wrong. In many ways. 

Jerking off to the thought of Loki’s hands, his touch, was a terrible idea. It’s all Tony can think about right now. But those long fingers don’t even touch him, except for an accidental brush against his lips now and then.

Loki gives him wine to drink. It’s sweet on Tony’s tongue. He licks his lips after, making a show of it, and he sees the way Loki’s eyes track the movement, but all it earns him is a flicker of amusement. Tony flushes even deeper. He’s hard, straining against his jeans. His chest tightens; this isn’t like him at all. He’s got more than enough experience under his belt, sex isn’t anything new or shocking, but this definitely is. It’s difficult not to take it seriously. 

“You keep straying,” Loki murmurs. The slight pressure of a fingertip against Tony’s lower lip, this time not just collateral. “Color?”

Tony swallows and looks at Loki’s face again. “Green.”

Loki hums, satisfied, and keeps feeding Tony until the plate is empty. Tony realizes belatedly that the food was still warm, even though it’s been sitting on the table for ages before Loki even started giving it to Tony. Strange, but well, add it to the list. 

“Can you stand?” Loki asks.

“Of course I can stand,” Tony snaps, but then he’s distracted by the sight of Loki licking the remains of pesto off his fingers, just like that. Tony catches a glimpse of Loki’s pink tongue, lips closing around the tip of his thumb for a brief second. 

Maybe Tony can’t stand, after all. He lets out a breath, clenching and unclenching his hand, looking away. This is ridiculous. It shouldn’t be this easy to get him all hot and bothered, it never is, usually. 

Tony gets up. His knees are fucking jelly. He takes a – probably not subtly, but who the fuck cares – look at Loki’s crotch, but there’s no obvious bulge. Either he’s got the tiniest dick ever, which would be disappointing, or he isn’t hard at all. That makes the entire thing even more embarrassing. 

“Next time, you’ll ask,” Loki says, definite in a way that has Tony’s cock twitching. “You may go.”

Tony has no idea what he’s talking about, but he’s glad for the chance to get out of Loki’s sight. Before he reaches the door, Loki speaks up again.

“Do try not to make a mess. Do you have tissues upstairs?”

“Shut up!”

He swears he hears Loki chuckle. Tony ducks his head and all but runs upstairs, seething. He slams his bedroom door shut and locks it behind himself. He leans against the wood, cupping himself through his pants. The pressure makes him hiss. Fuck it. He opens his pants and tears the zipper down so he can shove a hand inside his boxers and grip his cock. It doesn’t take long, just a few rough strokes while he bites down on the side of his other hand again, then he comes all over himself. Hard. 

The aftershocks leave him shivering. He swallows down a sob that wants to wrench itself from his throat and takes a minute to breathe, just breathe, until he feels somewhat calm again. His skin crawls. He managed to make a mess of his jeans, so he takes them off and leaves them on the floor. 

The bed is warm and soft, but Tony isn’t comfortable at all when he curls up under the blanket, still shaking. He hates everything. And Loki most of all. 

After a while, he doesn’t know how long, there is a knock at the door. Tony stills, doesn’t even dare to breathe. Nearly a week, and Loki didn’t once come to Tony’s bedroom.

Tony doesn’t reply. He listens closely, but hears no retreating steps. Instead, after a few seconds –

“Do you need anything?”

Ass. 

“You to go away,” Tony shoots back, relieved when his voice doesn’t quiver at all. 

“I’ll be in the library,” Loki says, undeterred. “Get some rest.”

When Tony doesn’t reply, Loki finally goes away. Tony clenches his teeth and stays where he is, staring at nothing. It’s too early to fall asleep, but he can’t bring himself to move.

He’s such an idiot. 

Chapter Text

7

They don’t speak during breakfast. At all. Tony eats as fast as he can while Loki watches with mild concern, and in the end he snitches the plate away from under Loki’s hands the second Loki is finished eating. Loki gives him a miffed look, but doesn’t say anything.

“Can I go running now?” Tony asks, not looking at Loki. 

“You’ll make yourself sick.”

“Well, what the fuck do you care, huh? Can I or not?”

“Yes,” Loki says with another sigh. “Just one round should be enough.”

Tony stops dead in his tracks. “What? Why?”

“Because I say so. Do you need another reason?”

“It’s not like I asked like you fucking want me to, right, so yes, I need a reason, thanks.”

“You’ve been running two rounds for no other reason other me telling you to.”

“I can still do two,” Tony snaps, turning away again. 

“Fine, if you insist.”

“Fine.”

Tony ends up hurling his breakfast into a bush after running his first round in record time. He runs around the lake a second time out of sheer spite. 

When he is back in the house, he’s still on edge, feeling like he’s going to implode any second. He takes a shower because he feels disgusting and goes downstairs to get himself something to drink because his brain needs to shut the fuck up. So far, he’s only seen the many nice bottles of wine in the kitchen, but there has to be stronger stuff somewhere, right? 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the chance to snoop around. He doesn’t even make it to the kitchen. 

“Anthony.”

Tony stills at the bottom of the stairs, deer in the headlights. Loki is standing near the open door of the library, as if he’s been waiting for him. 

“Come,” he says.

“I don’t want to,” Tony says through gritted teeth.

“Please.”

Tony goes. He just wants to get it over with, really, and then he wants to avoid Loki as much as he can. He follows Loki into the library, where Loki sits down on the sofa, picking up a book he left on the low table. He points at the armchair, so Tony sits down on it, glaring. He draws up his legs and crosses his arms. There are sizzling flames in the fireplace, but Tony is still cold. 

“Did you sleep at all?” Loki asks.

“What’s it to you?”

Loki raises a brow. 

Tony keeps glaring. It took ages, but he managed to get Loki to agree that the five hours of sleep rule was stupid. Tony doesn’t get five hours of sleep on good nights. The night before wasn’t good at all. Loki insisted that Tony at least had to try to sleep, and just rest if he couldn’t. 

“I tried,” Tony says, voice tight. “It’s not my fault if I can’t.”

“No, it’s not,” Loki agrees, so annoyingly reassuring. “You did well. Why don’t you try to rest a little now, hm?”

The kindness is disarming. Tony hates it with every fiber of his being, but it’s too damn easy to sink into. “What?”

“Just sit,” Loki says, looking back at the book in his hands. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Tony stares. Loki turns a page. Then another, and another. He doesn’t seem to mind that Tony is gaping at him like a madman. Tony isn’t sure if it’s just his imagination, but it feels like the room is getting warmer, like the fire is finally seeping into his body. He’s exhausted from his run, and the evening before wasn’t much fun, in hindsight. He wants it again, is the thing. It’s annoying, this wanting, but it’s right there in his chest, difficult to ignore. Tony was awake prodding at it all night. 

The regular turning of pages is soothing. The fire. Loki’s near silent breaths, if he concentrates. Tony’s eyelids droop. 

He wakes up for a brief moment when someone puts a blanket over him, tucking it in tight around his shoulders. He makes a confused noise.

“Shh.” A hand in his hair, gentle. “Sleep, darling.”

It’s easy to obey.

8

It’s a quiet day. Tony gets on Loki’s nerves a bit in the afternoon, so he’s still at two rounds around the lake, but when he comes back and slips into the library after his shower, hesitating, Loki smiles at him. Tony acts like he’s there for a book, taking one out of the shelves at random. He realizes belatedly that it’s in French, but well, he knows enough French to make do. 

He almost sits down in the armchair again. Loki left it unoccupied, almost an invitation, but Tony isn’t sure. He isn’t sure if he wants to. He keeps remembering the hand putting the blanket over him, that blink and you miss it feeling of fingers carding through his hair, and he aches. He’s not sure why. Loki’s just a guy. Sure, yes, he’s a god, but he doesn’t act like one. Pretty, yes. But Tony has fucked prettier. And, shit, he doesn’t want Tony at all. Tony got that message, no need to rub it in. 

He can’t stop thinking about it, though. Wanting it. Stupid body, stupid heart. 

He takes the book and leaves, and Loki doesn’t say a word.

10

Dinner is late, again. On purpose, again. It’s not like Tony planned it, it just kind of happened, because he’s been thinking too much about what Loki might do if it happened. The kneeling, the hand feeding; it has wormed its way into Tony’s brain somehow, like a catchy song. Always there. Tony doesn’t know how to get rid of it. 

“Twenty-three minutes,” Loki says when Tony walks into the dining room.

“Sorry, your majesty.”

“‘Your highness’ would be more appropriate.”

Tony squints at him. “You’re kidding.”

Loki gives him a look that wavers between amused and unimpressed. “I wish. Sit down.”

Tony holds his breath. Frowns. “What?”

“Sit down,” Loki repeats. He arches a brow. “Or did you have other plans?”

Next time, you’ll ask. 

Tony’s tongue feels like it doesn’t belong to his body anymore, too thick, too slow. He swallows. He can’t ask. Can he? Fuck. The way Loki looks at him, all curious patience, makes Tony’s thoughts spin.

Loki is just playing with him. Tony gets that, distantly, but he doesn’t want to drag that knowledge out into the light. Some things are easier to accept when you don’t think about them too much. Loki doesn’t want him. But maybe he’s willing to pretend, if only because he thinks it’s amusing. Or he’ll just say no when Tony asks, to make matters even worse. 

Tony goes to the table and sets down the tray. He puts the plates on the table – just roasted potatoes and vegetables, probably way too bland. There was meat, too, but Tony left it in the oven for so long that it didn’t pass as edible anymore.  

“Aren’t you gonna punish me?” Tony asks, not looking at Loki, because looking at Loki would likely make his breath hitch. 

“Of course,” Loki says. “Ten slaps should do, don’t you agree?”

Tony worries at his lower lip with his teeth. Loss of privileges. The privilege to sit at the table and eat using cutlery, like a goddamn normal person. Pain, perhaps. Ten slaps.

“Green,” Tony says, too breathy.

“Good.”

“Can I – can you –”

Loki just waits. Tony dares to look at him, and his knees almost give way in relief because Loki doesn’t look bored right now, and he doesn’t ignore Tony at all. He’s watching him closely, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Feed me?” Tony finishes, flushing crimson when his voice breaks. “Like the other day?”

The smirk turns into a smile, warm, delighted. Loki turns on his chair, away from the table, and holds out a hand. Beckoning Tony closer. “If you like, yes.”

Tony goes to him. He’s trying to keep his breaths under control and doesn’t do a very good job of it, excitement thrumming under his skin. He’s torn between running away and sinking down at Loki’s feet as soon as possible. 

“But punishment first,” Loki says when Tony is close enough, reaching up to cup his chin with warm fingers. “Yes?”

It’s the first time Loki touches him since their handshake, actually touches him in a way that’s not fleeting or accidental, and Tony isn’t even half asleep. Tony has to resist the urge to lean into the touch, rub his cheek against Loki’s hand. He nods. 

“Good,” Loki says. “Kneel.”

Tony’s knees don’t buckle under him, but it’s a close thing. He stays standing for a moment, just to assure himself that he can, and then he gives in.  His knees hit the ground with a little more force than planned, making him wince. Loki hushes him, cupping his cheek now, thumb brushing over heated skin. Two fingers of his other hand touch Tony’s chin, tilting his face up.

“Ten,” Loki reminds him. “Ready?”

Tony nods again. 

Loki’s hand slides down a few inches. His thumb presses slightly against Tony’s throat. “Words, darling.”

“Green,” Tony says, just a whisper. 

Loki hums, and slaps his face. The impact turns Tony’s head and leaves him breathless, cheek stinging. Loki makes him look at him again. His fingers stroke over Tony’s cheek, and the tenderness of the touch gives Tony whiplash. 

“Breathe,” Loki says. 

Oh, right. The air rushes out of Tony’s lungs and he takes another breath, feeling a little steadier. He shifts on his knees a bit, straightening his back, and meets Loki’s eyes again. 

Loki smiles at him. Tony’s stomach does a fucking somersault. Loki’s hand moves, Tony sees it out of the corner of his eye, and he has a second to prepare himself before Loki hits him again. And again, until Tony is dizzy. Yes, the orgasm didn’t help at all; Tony is just as hard and desperate now as he was before. 

“Breathe,” Loki repeats, somewhere around slap number seven. He’s bending forward a little now, one hand on the side of Tony’s neck, keeping him steady. “In, out. Good.”

He keeps going. Eight, nine, ten. Tony can’t help it, he chases Loki’s touch when he takes his hands away, needing more contact. Loki chuckles and gives it to him right away, stroking a hand through Tony’s hair and scratching gently behind his ear. The gesture makes warmth spill over in Tony’s chest. A simple touch shouldn’t feel this good, especially not one that strengthens the entire pet association Tony’s been having since the first time Loki told him to kneel. Still, though. It feels fantastic, a sharp counterpoint to Tony’s burning face.

He stifles a whine when Loki pulls back. Loki makes another of those soothing noises and runs his fingers through Tony’s hair again, making him shiver. 

“You took that well,” Loki says softly. “Well done. Now, let’s see –”

He leans to the side and tugs at the cushion on the chair next to his until it comes free. He offers it to Tony, who can only stare at him.

“For your knees,” Loki explains.

Tony doesn’t know if his voice still works, but he decides to give it a try. “But – the other times, you –”

“The punishment is over.” Loki has the gall to look amused. “Although I’m not sure how much of a punishment it really was. Still, I want you to be comfortable. Stand up for a moment.”

Tony groans, but lifts himself up. A twinge of pain goes through his legs – god, how long did that take, exactly? It feels like longer than necessary for ten slaps. Or maybe Tony just lost track of the time. Loki watches, and Tony gets the feeling like Loki is taking note of every single movement – like there’s nothing Tony could do that Loki wouldn’t notice and file away neatly for later use. That much focus is both flattering and overwhelming. 

“Better?” Loki asks, placing the cushion on the floor. He waits for Tony to nod, then adds, “Then get back on your knees.”

Tony drops down again. The cushion is easier on his knees, for sure. He swallows. “Thanks.”

Loki actually beams. “My pleasure. Thirsty?”

Tony is too dazed – that smile doesn’t have the right to be this adorable, dammit – to do anything but nod. Loki doesn’t give Tony wine, this time, just water. It makes Tony feel oddly small, pleasure and shame mingling. At this point, he has no idea what he’s even doing anymore.

“Breathe,” Loki says for the third time. “I’m starting to think that you forget you have to.”

“Sorry,” Tony says, for a reason he doesn’t understand at all. Maybe he does hold his breath when he gets antsy. Makes it easier to think. 

“No need. You will get what you asked for, Anthony. No more or less than that. Do you understand?”

And Tony does understand. What he doesn’t understand is why – why Loki is doing this, why he’s being so caring. It makes no sense. 

Tony clears his throat in attempt to sound a little less wrecked. “Listen, I – what are you getting out of this? Is it – I mean, why? Do you do this kinda thing every year?”

“Three different questions, I think.” Loki picks up something from the plate and offers Tony a potato wedge. “You promised me obedience. I understand this is difficult for you, so if you do well and ask nicely, I don’t see why you shouldn’t get what you want in return. And no, I do not.”

“You don’t what?” 

“You may swallow before answering a question, you know.”

“That an order?”

Loki rolls his eyes. “No. And I don’t do this every year. Some people are receptive, but all in all, it’s rare. My guest last year was a seventy year old lady who taught me how to knit.”

The image is so strange that Tony has to let out a choked laugh.

“Indeed,” Loki says, smile sharpening. “If I had suggested something like this, she would have given me a terrible dressing-down.” He scoops up some zucchini slices and brings them to Tony’s lips. “I was curious about your reaction. Needless to say, you didn’t disappoint.”

Wait.

What?

“I didn’t?”

“Of course not,” Loki says. “You’ve been lovely. Very interesting. Eat, please, they’re slipping.”

Tony opens his mouth so that Loki can feed him the vegetables before they slide out of his grip. Tony barely tastes them, he’s too busy thinking. He feels like he should be pissed that Loki is playing with him like this, trying out weird things just to get a reaction out of Tony, and maybe Tony will be pissed later, but right now, he’s too focused on lovely. Very interesting. 

Lovely. 

He’s never been called that before. Intelligent, yes, and hot, and he knows that both are true, but lovely? No. That’s for other people. Kinder, warmer, better people. He isn’t any of that, he’s mostly just a pain in the ass. And proud of that. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Tony says faintly. 

“Which one?”

“About – what you’re getting out of this.”

Loki smiles and keeps feeding him, bit by bit. It’s surreal and should feel ridiculous, they shouldn’t be having a semi-normal conversation while Tony’s eating his dinner straight from Loki’s hands. Loki doesn’t act like it’s ridiculous, though. He acts like it’s perfectly normal, a reasonable thing to ask for. Like everything is as it should be. 

“You are enticing to watch,” he says finally, thumb stroking over Tony’s jaw. “Especially when you’re ashamed.”

Tony’s face burns. Loki grins down at him. When Tony huffs and looks away, Loki cups his cheek with his clean hand to turn his face back toward him. The touch makes Tony shiver. He expects Loki to take it one step further – kiss him, pull his head down between his legs, something. But Loki doesn’t. All his touches could pass as innocent, sweet, and maybe they would if Tony wasn’t thinking increasingly non-innocent thoughts. Judging by Loki’s smirk, he’s aware of that.

“Would you like more?” he asks when the plate is empty, barely even looking away from Tony.

Tony manages his best flirty grin, the one that usually makes people blush. “I’d rather have something else.”

Loki’s eyebrows wander up a bit. “Oh? Do tell.”

“Well, I’ve got some ideas –”

“You are not to touch me without my permission, pet.”

Tony freezes, hand hovering in the air, inches away from Loki’s leg. “I wasn’t going to rip your dick out of your pants without asking first, jackass.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Also, pet?” Tony has the horrible suspicion that his voice went a little bit too high there. He scowls. “Listen, if you’re not interested, then –”

“Oh, I am very interested in you,” Loki says, his smile returning, “but I’m afraid my dick will stay in my pants for the time being. If you’re that desperate to put your mouth to good use, you may clean my fingers.”

He wiggles them in front of Tony’s face, and Tony blinks at them, stunned at first, then determined. “Playing hard to get, huh? May I touch your hand, please?”

That makes surprised pleasure light up in Loki’s eyes. “My, you do have manners somewhere deep down. Yes, you may.”

So, he has a thing for manners, but doesn’t like blowjobs. Make it make sense. But fine, okay, Tony can work with that. He curls his fingers around Loki’s wrist and pulls his hand closer, sliding his tongue over one of those long fingers that are still dirty from dinner. He keeps eye contact, and is relieved when he sees that Loki likes it, if the slightly parted lips and intent stare are anything to go by. It’s not quite the heated desire Tony wants to see, but it’ll do. Having Loki’s undivided attention makes him blush, anyway. 

When Loki’s fingers are clean, Tony pulls back, flashing his teeth. 

“You have quite the talented tongue, don’t you?” Loki says sweetly. “Tell me what you want.”

“I –“ Tony can’t fucking think. With any other, he’d know exactly what to do, but Loki is an immovable object if he’s ever seen one. He seems so completely unfazed that it knocks Tony off balance. He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t like not knowing things, so he gets pissy. “Well, what the fuck do you want?”

Loki raises a brow. “I asked you first.”

For a second or two, Tony is stunned, because that’s such a fucking childish response coming from a thousand year old alien who fancies himself a god. 

“You’re kinda annoying, do you know that,” Tony says flatly. 

Loki’s grin makes his stomach flip. “Yes, I’ve been told.” He cups Tony’s face again, keeping him from looking away. “So? Tell me.”

“I want to get you off.” Tony’s mouth is too dry. Loki’s touch makes it difficult to think, but he knows what Loki wants to hear. “Please?”

“Ah.” Loki hesitates, expression softening. “I’m sorry, darling, but I’d rather not. But if you –“

“Yeah,” Tony cuts him off. He gets up, breaking away from Loki’s touch. “Right. I don’t know why you wasted all this time fucking teasing me –“

“Anthony.”

“No, fuck off. I get it, you’ve just been messing with me. I bet it’s fun, riling me up and then –“

“Come back here. I didn’t say no to –”

“Red,” Tony bites out, and sees Loki’s reaction only out of the corner of his eye – he goes still, stops arguing at once. Fine. Great. Tony turns away completely, continuing his angry storming-off like a fucking toddler. “I’m going to my room.”

“Very well,” Loki says. “If you need anything –”

“Oh, just shut up.”

Loki does. 

*

Hey man you okay?

Tony stares at the text and can’t bring himself to reply. Rhodey is worried, sure, and Tony doesn’t want him to worry, but what is he supposed to say? That he has the hots for a god who is clearly not interested in him except for some messed up power play?

That’s pathetic, and Tony’s not going to lose a word about it to anyone. 

He tosses his phone away, wincing when it slides off the mattress to the ground. He doesn’t bother picking it up. It’s late, the room is dark except for the soft light of the lamp on the bedside table. He can’t sleep, but it’s nearing midnight, and if he wants to get his full five hours –

He shakes that thought off. Fuck, seriously? Ten days. It has only been ten days, and Tony is already way too used to all these stupid rules. 

It’s kinda nice, is the thing. Get enough sleep, eat enough, take care of yourself. People don’t bother telling Tony shit like that because they know he won’t do any of it. The thought that Loki cares –

No. Another bad thought. Bad, very bad. Shut the fuck up. 

Loki acts like it, though, and that’s the most cruel thing about this mess. Lovely, he said. Very interesting. Not lovely or interesting enough, apparently. Not like that’s surprising . It wouldn’t bother Tony this much if he wasn’t going crazy with all this stupid want. Loki ticks a lot of boxes, some of which Tony didn’t even know he had. Tony wants him. 

Like the goddamn idiot he is. 

He runs a hand over his face and stands up to find his phone. He texts Rhodey back. Fine, he says, I’m fine, even though he’d rather say I hate everything about this and I want to go home and I don’t know what’s wrong with me. 

He sits down on the ground and draws up his knees against his chest, leaning against the bed. He squints at the too bright screen of his phone – lots of other messages he hasn’t replied to, some mentions on social media, a few missed calls. People know that he’s here, of course. His father made sure of that. His father hasn’t called or texted, and neither has his mother. 

Ten days. They probably prefer it when he’s gone. He can’t get in trouble with the press here, at least. 

A sound makes him lift his head. He looks over his shoulder, frowning, and yes, Loki is definitely in the hallway. Steps are approaching Tony’s bedroom door. Keep walking, Tony thinks desperately, keep walking, keep –

Loki knocks. 

Tony bites down on a groan. “What do you want?”

“May I come in?” Loki asks, muffled by the door. 

Crap. Tony wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt and clears his throat. “It’s your fucking house, isn’t it?”

Loki opens the door enough to poke his head into the room. “Is that you telling me no or being difficult about saying yes?”

“Ugh, just come in.”

Loki does, looking around the room with a raised brow. “Oh, gods.”

“What.”

“There is a closet in this room, you know.” Loki frowns at Tony’s clothes that are scattered all over the room. “Maybe you could try to put something in it.”

There’s a rule about keeping his room tidy. Rule six. Or maybe seven. And his room isn’t tidy at all, because he freaked out after taking a shower earlier and pulled all his clothes out of the closet because he couldn’t find a shirt. And he didn’t even bring that many shirts. 

“I was about to tidy up,” Tony lies, but doesn’t bother standing up. 

“What a relief,” Loki says dryly. “Were you on the phone?”

“What?”

Loki nods downward, and Tony realizes that his phone is still in his hand. He puts it on the bed. “No. What, are you here to punish me for not doing the dishes?”

“No.”

“Then what do you want?”

“To see how you were doing.” Loki’s tone adds an obviously to the sentence. He steps over a pair of jeans and comes over to the bed. “You seemed a little upset earlier.”

His tone is almost teasing. Tony bristles. “If you’re just here to make fun of me, you can fuck right off.”

“And now I’ve gone and upset you even more,” Loki says with a sigh. “May I sit?”

Tony shrugs. That seems to be enough for Loki, because he walks around the bed and sits down on the edge. Tony twitches, wanting to get up from the ground so they’re on eye level, but he doesn’t want to sit next to Loki on the bed, either. And Loki kept some distance between them; his legs aren’t touching Tony at all. 

“I know you have very little patience, but if you had stayed and listened for a few seconds, you’d have realized that I wasn’t rejecting you at all.”

“I literally offered to get you off,” Tony says, not looking at Loki. “You didn’t want to, that’s fine. No big deal.”

“You’re not at all used to people telling you no, are you?” 

“Right. Listen, I’m sorry for running off or whatever, but I don’t need you berating me, thanks.”

Loki huffs. “I would have explained if you had given me the chance to finish a sentence.” 

“Explain what? That you don’t want to fuck me?”

“Yes,” Loki says, now clearly annoyed. “And that it has nothing to do with you, personally, because I don’t want to fuck anyone.”

Wait. 

Tony looks up at Loki, eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Getting off doesn’t interest me,” Loki says, as if that explains everything. “But you do. Very much.”

“You –“ Tony stops, gears turning. Finally, it clicks. “You’re ace.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Ace. Asexual.”

“Oh, yes. That’s the term you humans came up with.”

Fucking fantastic. 

“Are you telling me,” Tony says slowly, “that from all the Gods who took over our cities – from all the Gods who’ve been using humans as fucktoys three months a year, I’ve landed the only one who flat-out doesn’t fuck?”

Great, now Loki looks amused. “Did you want to be my fucktoy?”

“What? No, you –“ Tony flushes bright red and then glares when Loki’s smirk widens. “Shut up, no, I don’t.” 

Loki has the gall to laugh. “Pity. I think the role would suit you well.”

What the – 

Tony splutters and sits up straight, pointing an accusatory finger at Loki. “You don’t want to have sex, fine. But then stop saying shit like that, fucking hell.”

“I never said I didn’t want to have sex.”

Now Tony’s just confused. 

He stares at Loki, but Loki just keeps looking at him, still grinning. He’s enjoying this, the bastard. 

“Yeah,” Tony says into the silence. “You’ve lost me. What?”

Loki takes pity on him, thankfully. “I said I wasn’t interested in getting off myself. I would have liked to see you finish earlier, and I wouldn’t mind touching you.”

“But why?” Tony asks, hating that his voice isn’t as even as he would like it to be. “I mean – if you’re not getting anything out of it, why would you…”

He trails off. Something about his words seem to piss Loki off, because his expression darkens. He leans forward and touches Tony’s face much like he did during dinner, cool fingers curling along Tony’s jaw and tilting up his face. 

“Yes, why would I want to see you fall apart?” he says quietly. “Why would I want to see you flushed and desperate, just from my orders and, if you’re very good, my hands?” He smiles. “Darling, why wouldn’t I?”

Oh. 

Chapter Text

11

Loki is still in his own room when Tony wakes up the next morning. Tony can’t help the twinge of disappointment – he could barely even sleep because he was so excited, and Loki has a lie in, as usual. Well, as much of a lie in as he can have with their schedule. He probably gets up five minutes before eight, makes himself presentable with magic and shows up in the dining room like he’s had the most productive morning. 

Tony makes scrambled eggs and tea. He’s on his third coffee already, but that’s not why he feels jittery when he carries the tray over to the dining room. He almost trips over his own feet when he sees Loki in the hallway, just on time. 

“Hello, Anthony,” Loki says cheerfully, like he didn’t just watch Tony make a rather complicated movement to keep the plates from sliding straight off the tray. Tony already thinks Loki didn’t notice when – “I see you’re in full control of your fine motor skills this morning.”

“I’d show you just how in control of them I am if you weren’t such a smug little shit.”

Loki snorts and opens the door of the dining room for Tony. He stole his smile from a gentleman in a black-and-white movie, but the mischief in his eyes would be better placed in a prank video filmed by giggling teenagers.  

“This is your breakfast,” Tony warns, suspicious. “If you make me trip, I’m not making you anything else.”

“Why would I make you trip?”

“Because you’ve got shady vibes.” Tony walks past Loki into the dining room and puts the tray on the table. “What are you planning? Also, why can’t we eat breakfast in the kitchen like normal people?”

“Oh, I’m not planning anything, don’t worry.”

“Words said ten seconds before disaster.”

“Your lack of trust wounds me. And if you’re fine with letting me see the mess you made of it, we can eat in the kitchen.”

“It’s not that much of a mess,” Tony says. Like a liar. “I’m getting better.”

“You are,” Loki agrees, sitting on his usual chair. He reaches for the tea. “You’re a quick study.”

Tony looks away. That smile is going to be the death of him. He sits down as well, because Loki doesn’t say a word about kneeling or feeding or anything else, for that matter, and Tony certainly isn’t going to ask for that again. 

“You look tired,” Loki says when Tony sits down. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

Tony makes a face. “I tried. Maybe I would’ve managed if you hadn’t sent me to bed with blue balls.”

Loki’s smirk is barely visible behind the edge of his mug. “I didn’t forbid you to touch yourself, did I?”

No, he didn’t. He said tomorrow, though, with a glinting smile and a hand ruffling Tony’s hair – actually ruffling his hair, like Tony was ten years younger than he is. That should have been weird, demeaning, but thanks to the fondness in Loki’s eyes it was nothing except affectionate, causing too much giddiness to bubble up in Tony’s chest. 

Loki also said get some sleep, and Tony lay awake and listened to his own too fast heartbeat and wondered what the hell he was even doing. Loki threatens to make all of Tony’s defenses come down, and Tony doesn’t even know how. 

Frowning, Tony pushes the scrambled eggs back and forth on his plate. He doesn’t know how to deal with Loki’s flirting. Because he is flirting, but he’s also made clear now that he doesn’t want to fuck Tony at all, he just wants to – watch? Order Tony around? Rile him up and then leave him hanging, just to prove that he’s oh so high and mighty?

Something nudges Tony’s foot under the table. Tony looks at Loki, because that something was clearly Loki’s foot, but Loki is happily eating his breakfast, focused on the book he put on the table next to his plate. Tony writes it off as an accident, but then Loki’s foot prods him again, more insistent this time. 

“What,” Tony says, annoyed. 

Loki nudges him again without even taking his eyes off the book. “You’re brooding. Stop.”

“I’m not –“ Another nudge. “You stop kicking me! What’s wrong with you?”

“Many things,” Loki says gravely. “Whatever you used to season this, it was not pepper.”

“It’s definitely pepper, I checked,” Tony says, although he’s given up and just grabs spices at random at this point. “You’re just – ow! What the –“

“That was for lying.”

Tony leans down to rub his shin. “How old are you, twelve?”

“I could put you over my lap if that’s more to your liking?”

Tony has no idea how Loki can go from playing aggressive footsie to smiling at Tony like that – a shark, smelling blood – in two seconds flat, but it’s honestly impressive. He goes deer in the headlights for a moment, and Loki dials up the smugness of his smirk at once. Tony gets himself back under control as fast as he can. 

“Would that be to your liking?” he asks, because he’s tired of being the butt of the joke all the time. Quid pro fucking pro, Clarice. 

“Oh, yes,” Loki says. 

Just like that. He doesn’t even get flustered or anything. 

Unfair. 

“Huh,” Tony says, trying to convince himself that Loki just told him his favorite color is green, or something equally unsurprising. “Cool.”

Loki grins at him, eyes dancing. He clears the last bits off his plate and grabs his book. “Maybe we can try it sometime, hm? For now, take care of the dishes and meet me in the library when you’re done.”

Tony watches Loki go, heart skipping a beat. “What for?”

“I promised you something, didn’t I?”

Tomorrow. 

“Right. Uh. Yes.”

“Ten minutes,” Loki says, disappearing into the hallway. 

Tony stares after him, then at their empty plates. Shit. 

*

Tony loads the dishwasher in the most gruesome way a dishwasher has ever been loaded and then dashes over to the library, slowing his steps only when the door is already within reach. He opens it and slips into the room. He wonders if he should have been late on purpose, just to see what Loki would do, but well, too late. He’s embarrassingly on time; he might as well hold up a neon sign declaring “yes, eager slut here, hello!”

Loki is sitting on the sofa in front of the windows like he’s got nothing planned except getting cozy with a good book and a cup of tea. He looks up when Tony comes in, though, and smiles. It’s still dark outside, the sky a stormy gray, and the floor lamp next to the sofa is on, drawing shadows onto Loki’s face.

“Right on time,” he says, amused. He closes his book. “Very good.”

Maybe a neon sign would have been less obvious. But Loki can read him like an open book, anyway, so what does it even matter?

“Come here, then.”

Tony walks over to him and sits down next to Loki, wondering with how much closeness he can get away with – how much he wants to get away with. Loki turns toward him, his arm resting on the backrest of the sofa. He doesn’t touch Tony, just looks at him for a moment, and Tony’s skin tingles with it. Loki doesn’t look at Tony like he wants to sleep with him. He looks at Tony like he wants to turn him inside out and prod at things Tony himself wouldn’t touch with a ten feet pole. 

“I don’t think I will touch you today,” Loki says finally, glancing downward with a smirk. “But I would very much like to see you touch yourself, if you’re amenable?”

Tony has always been good at putting on a show, especially in the bedroom. He knows that he’s hot, so the occasional striptease is a given. But people usually don’t only want to watch. And he has the feeling that having Loki’s undivided attention while jerking off will be a tad… much. 

“Uh huh,” Tony says slowly, trying not to let his nerves show. “That’s what you’re into, then? You just wanna watch people get off and not have any fun yourself?”

Loki waves a hand, dismissive. “I would have a lot of fun just watching you, yes, but I would like to do a little more than that.”

“Okay?”

“Is it?” Loki smiles and reaches out to touch Tony’s shirt, slowly adjusting the collar. “You dressed up for me.”

Tony wrinkles his nose. He’s wearing the only nice shirt he brought, a deep red that suits him well and is tight enough around his chest and waist to show off a little. And of course he’s wearing it for Loki, but he’s not going to admit that. “Uh. Coincidence. My other shirts are in the wash.”

“You mean the three t-shirts you’ve been wearing in turns?” Loki gives him a flat look and opens the first button of Tony’s shirt. “You look lovely, although I would prefer a different color. Would you like to hear the rules?”

“The rules?” Tony echoes, distracted by Loki’s hands so close to his skin. 

Loki opens another button. “I want you kneeling on the ground. If I say touch, you may. If I say stop, you stop. If you want to come, you will ask for my permission. I’ll let you, eventually, but you will ask. Is that acceptable?”

“Huh?”

Loki tugs at the collar of Tony’s shirt again, spreading it a little further apart to reveal more skin. “Are you comfortable with that or would you like something else?”

“I –” Tony slaps Loki’s hands away. “Stop that, I can’t focus.”

Loki’s smile spreads into a grin, but he lets his hands sink. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not. Why do I have to kneel?”

“Because I enjoy seeing you on your knees, and a pet belongs at its owner’s feet, doesn’t it?”

Heat rises to Tony’s face. He stares, but doesn’t come up with a good reply, because the words paired with the low pitch of Loki’s words are doing things to him. 

Loki laughs, delighted. He leans in to kiss Tony’s cheek, fingers pressing gently against the other side of his face. “Oh, you’re adorable.”

Tony’s brain is short-circuiting. The spot Loki kissed feels hot, the touch lingers. When Loki pulls back, Tony fights down the urge to touch his cheek; he’s not a character in a teen romance, for fuck’s sake. 

“I’m not,” he mutters, trying to muster up the willpower to glare at Loki. “I’m hot, thank you very much.”

“We’ll have to compromise and say that you are both,” Loki says, and before Tony can argue, he adds, “If you don’t want to kneel, I won’t force you.”

It’s not like Tony doesn’t want to kneel. It’s just that it will bring some distance between them, and as it turns out, Tony wants to get away with as much closeness as possible. 

He likes kneeling at Loki’s feet, though. That much is obvious by now, although he would have liked to be in denial about it for a while longer. 

“No, it’s – it’s fine.”

Loki doesn’t seem surprised, but at least he’s not totally obnoxious about it. His smirk is a little smug, but that’s probably its default setting. “Wonderful. ‘Red’ when you want to stop, ‘yellow’ when you require a break or something needs to change.”

Right. “And green for go.”

“Green for go,” Loki agrees. He scans Tony for a moment, gaze lingering on certain parts of Tony’s body in a way that makes Tony feel even warmer. “Anything else you would like to say or ask before we start?”

“Yeah, why is there so much talking? Are you gonna pull up some powerpoint slides and a laser pointer?”

“Because you haven’t done this before,” Loki says, ignoring the second half of what Tony said, “and I want you to enjoy it.”

Tony isn’t sure if he likes that. It sounds a little bit like Loki actually cares. Maybe Tony likes it too much. “How do you know I haven’t done this before?”

“Well, have you?” Loki says, which is not at all an answer to the question.  

Tony rolls his eyes. “I’ve been tied up before.”

“And did that affect you like this does?”

Like I do, that’s what he means, and Tony hears it loud and clear. He scoffs. “Very sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Quite. Are you ready, then?”

“I was born ready, sweetheart.”

“So much bravado.” Loki leans back against the sofa, crossing his legs. “Kneel.”

There’s a subtle change in his voice – authority – and Tony’s stomach twists pleasantly in reaction. He doesn’t know why. He’s not the obedient type, everybody knows that. Everybody complains about that on a regular basis. Being given an order by Loki and knowing that Loki expects him to obey shouldn’t feel this exciting. 

Tony stands up and doesn’t dare to look Loki in the eye, because that would just make him blush again. He clears his throat and fiddles with the buttons of his shirt. “Shouldn’t I strip first?”

“You’ll strip when I tell you to strip,” Loki says – not harshly, just stating a fact. 

“Yes, sir – what do I do, bow? Oh, how about a good old-fashioned salute, my best friend’s in the army, so I can probably channel some second hand military discipline.”

“I’d be content with a backflip.”

The serious tone makes Tony do a double take, but he realizes quickly that Loki isn’t serious at all, he’s just being an ass. He’s already laughing, and to Tony’s own surprise he joins in.

“Listen, if I could, I would, just to see your face.”

“I’d make sure to look utterly stunned. There’s no need for any of that, however, and don’t call me that again.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t call me sir, use my name.”

Tony shrugs and then, finally, gets on his knees between the sofa and the table. There is a thick rug on the ground, so it’s comfortable enough. His heart bangs against his ribcage and he tells himself to chill the fuck out, this isn’t funny anymore. He stopped being nervous when he was twelve and Howard put him on a stage in front of hundreds of people to present the newest missile he’d helped design. Being nervous is a bad habit he will not pick up again. 

“Put your hands on your thighs,” Loki says. “And straighten your back, please. Keep your eyes on me.”

Three easy instructions. Tony puts his hands on his thighs, straightens his back, and looks at Loki. Easy. He doesn’t know why he is surprised by the intent way Loki is staring at him – Tony half expected Loki to keep the book in his hands, eyes flickering back to Tony only now and then to check if he’s still there and doing as he’s told. But Loki set the book aside, giving Tony his full attention, and that’s better. Worse. Who knows. Tony tries not to squirm. 

“Very nice,” Loki says, still taking in the sight. Judging by his smile, he likes what he sees. “You’re beautiful. Don’t move unless I tell you to. If the position gets uncomfortable, let me know. Understood?”

The words you’re beautiful bounce around in Tony’s mind like that DVD screensaver, so it takes a moment until the question registers. “Uh, yes.”

“Yes…?”

Tony gives Loki an unimpressed look. “Yes, Loki.”

“Excellent. Who tied you up?”

“What?”

“You said you’ve been tied up before. Who was it? And when?”

“Oh.” Tony frowns, thinking. “Two, three years ago? A random girl I went home with. Why?”

“I’m curious. What did she do?”

Tony narrows his eyes at Loki, unsure what he’s playing at. “You really want to hear about my past a hookups?”

“I want to hear about you,” Loki corrects. “So?”

“Well, she had a pair of those cheap as fuck handcuffs. She tied me to her bed and used my tie to blindfold me. Nothing wild.”

“And then?”

“And then she gave me a blowjob and rode my dick. That enough or do you want me to go into detail?”

“It will do.” Loki tilts his head to the side. “Did you enjoy it?”

Tony cracks a smile. “Not enough to stick around for breakfast.”

Loki smiles back, and Tony realizes that his heartbeat has calmed down somewhat. The world isn’t ending, and Loki hasn’t laughed in Tony’s face yet, and he hasn’t stood up and left, either. 

Huh. 

“I mean, it was fine,” he adds lamely. “Fun, I guess. But it wasn’t – it didn’t –”

It didn’t kickstart his heart like Loki’s smiles, didn’t make his stomach flip like Loki’s orders. Loki doesn’t even need to tie Tony up to make the power balance tip to his side. It’s equally frustrating and exhilarating, and Tony doesn’t know how to deal with it. 

“Eyes on me,” Loki reminds him, still calm. He waits until Tony looks at him again. “Open the other buttons.”

Surprised, Tony doesn’t do anything at all for a moment. Loki glances down at Tony’s chest expectantly. Oh, right. Okay. Tony can do that. 

He grins and pops the buttons one by one. He’s not wearing anything underneath his shirt, and he knows the red fabric looks good against his bare skin. Still, he wonders what color Loki would prefer – then again, stupid question. It’s definitely green. 

Loki is watching him. Closely. His eyes never stray away, not even once. There is no hunger in them, though, at least not the kind Tony is used to. It’s more like curiosity. Tony doesn’t get it, and he misses that familiar spark of being wanted in return, but he still likes the way Loki is looking at him. He knows everything about being hot. Being enthralling is new territory. 

When the last button is open, Tony tugs at his shirt a little to make sure it falls nicely, revealing more of his chest. Loki’s eyes follow the movement. Tony’s face feels hot. He waits for Loki to do something, say something, but Loki just looks his fill for a few more moments. Far too patient, like they have all the time in the world. Well, Tony supposes they do. He just sucks at being patient, that’s all. Excitement is humming under his skin, and there is a heat in his stomach that’s embarrassing if he looks at it too closely. 

“Pretty.”

Tony makes a face. “What.”

“You’re pretty,” Loki repeats. 

“That’s worse than adorable.”

“A simple thank you would suffice.”

The cold tone catches Tony by surprise. All in all, Loki has been gentle so far – kind, even – but now Tony suddenly feels again like he did when they made their deal. Like there’s something more behind Loki’s steely eyes and human face than he lets on. Not human. Dangerous. 

Apparently, Tony has a thing for danger. 

“Thanks,” he says, voice hitching. “Loki.”

The steel remains, but it still looks like Loki settles back into his skin, satisfied. “Better.”

Not good, Tony realizes. Just better. The challenge tugs at the arousal that’s already pooling in his belly, spurring it on. He‘s hard. He squirms a little on his knees, but –

“Do you need to change positions?” Loki asks at once, sounding like he knows the answer. 

Tony huffs. “No, Loki.”

“Then I expect you not to move unless I tell you to. Mind your hands.”

Tony glances down at his hands. One of them is fiddling with the hem of his shirt, so he puts it back on his thigh. Loki hums, and even that brief sound of approval makes Tony shiver. For fuck’s sake, that’s pathetic. He forces himself to take a breath. 

“Eyes on me,” Loki says again, edging into a bored drawl. Displeased because he has to remind Tony again. 

Tony looks back up at him, feeling like someone just punched him in the stomach. Loki softens at once and shifts, putting both feet on the ground. He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, and Tony wants Loki to touch him so badly that he needs to dig his fingers into his thighs. 

“Anthony,” Loki prompts softly. “Yellow?”

Tony shakes his head. He’s fine, fuck off, just – this is weird. He feels weird. The worst thing is the insistent arousal, the need; he keeps expecting it to go away, but instead it keeps getting worse. It doesn’t help that he’s been on edge without any relief since the night before. 

“I know it might be difficult for you to accept,” Loki says, still gentle, “but there’s no shame in enjoying obedience. You’re doing very well.”

The need pulses, and rushes up Tony’s throat and past his lips without his permission. “Am I?”

“Yes,” Loki says at once, without the slightest hint of hesitation. “Very much so. You’ve been honest and quick to correct your position when I told you to. I’ll be stern with you now and then, but only when and because I think you could do better. Never because I think in any way badly of you.”

Tony doesn’t know what to say. He lifts his shoulders. “Okay.”

“Would you like me to do anything differently?”

It’s a sincere offer, Tony realizes. Loki means that, he’s actually asking for Tony’s input. Tony isn’t sure what to make of that. “No, it’s – you’re good.”

“Are you ready to continue, then?”

“Yeah.”

Loki smiles and rests his chin on his folded hands. “You’ll keep on the shirt, because I like the way it looks on you. I wouldn’t mind it if you lost the pants, but for now, opening the fly will be enough.”

Tony moves to do just that, but doesn’t get very far.

“I didn’t tell you to open it now,” Loki says, still smiling. Happy that Tony fell right into the trap, probably. “Not yet.”

Tony glares and pointedly puts his hand back on his thigh. “I thought you wanted to stop being a tease.”

“Did I say that?” Loki sounds genuinely curious, but doesn’t wait for a reply. “Are you hard?”

He’d know the answer if he yanked his eyes away from Tony’s face for a second, but he seems unwilling to do that. 

Tony tries very hard not to blush. Unfortunately, it’s not really something he can control. “Halfway there, I guess.”

He was a lot harder a few minutes ago, but softened during their conversation. Tony has the feeling that’ll change again quickly, though, and Loki doesn’t disappoint.

“I want you all the way there,” he says, voice dipping into a lower register. Ridiculous, given that his voice is already pretty low as it is, and maybe it’s an act, but it does the trick. “Touch yourself.”

Tony swallows and reaches for his fly again –

“I didn’t allow that.”

Tony’s hand stills, the sharp tone makes his stomach clench, and he starts glaring again. Loki doesn’t give him a chance to argue. 

“You’ll have to learn to do what I tell you to, not what you think I am telling you to,” he says, brooking no dissent. “Try again.”

Tony would sass the hell out of him, usually, but the urge to get some kind of relief is too difficult to ignore. He squeezes his cock through his pants, suppressing a sigh. His cock swells a little more, causing his pants to become uncomfortable, and he’d like to just rip them off and jerk off properly, but also he – well, he doesn’t. He’s never been patient, but the anticipation is a pleasant tingle all over his skin, and it’s nice to keep it for a while longer. 

“What are you supposed to look at, Anthony?”

Tony’s eyes snap back to Loki’s face. He wasn’t even aware he’d looked away. His mouth feels dry. “You, Loki.”

He doesn’t think he imagines the spark in Loki’s eyes, the way they seem to be impossibly greener for a second. “Oh, so you do remember. Lovely. Don’t stop.”

Tony’s tongue flicks out to wet his lips. Loki’s gaze follows the movement, but Tony still doesn’t see any arousal. Loki looks pleased, yes, but not in any way turned on. He’s calm, nearly unaffected, and somehow that goes straight to Tony’s cock. He keeps squeezing it, trying to rub himself against his palm without looking all too desperate. 

“You’re wonderfully responsive,” Loki praises. “I could spend all day finding new ways to make you blush. Are your nipples sensitive?”

The question makes Tony pause. “Uh. Kinda?”

“Touch them for me. Use your other hand.”

Tony obeys. He watches Loki watch him, gaze wandering down to look at what Tony’s hands are doing for a moment. Tony plays with his left nipple, rubbing and squeezing like he only sometimes does when he’s getting off on his own – it doesn’t do all too much for him, or maybe he just doesn’t have enough patience for it. It feels nice now, though, maybe because Loki is watching. Maybe because Loki said for me. Tony’s other hand is still resting on his crotch, and he can’t keep himself from pressing the heel of his palm against the bulge, needing more. 

“Stop.”

Tony lets out a breath, frustrated. But he stops moving, and the smile he gets as a reward very nearly makes his hips twitch, searching more friction. 

“Good boy,” Loki says. “Very good. Your right hand back on your thigh. Switch to your other nipple, please.”

Tony presses his fingertips into his thigh and moves to his right nipple, which is a bit less fun now that his cock isn’t getting any action anymore. 

“Isn’t this super boring for you?” Tony immediately wishes he hadn’t spoken at all, because he’s much too breathless. Well, too late now. 

“No. Pinch it.”

Tony blinks. 

“Now.”

Tony does, and the slight pain travels like liquid heat down his spine. He bites his lip, and Loki’s face does that thing that makes crinkles appear at the corners of his eyes again. 

“You can take more than that. Harder.”

Tony pinches himself again, a little longer, a little harder. He wishes it was Loki’s hand on his body and squirms under his own touch instead, staring at Loki to find more hints that he’s pleased. He doesn’t have to look long; it’s written in bold letters all over Loki’s face. 

“Oh, you do like pain,” he murmurs, voice dripping with warmth. “Brilliant. Again.”

Loki does that for a while – again, again, again – until both of Tony’s nipples are red and sore. Tony has trouble holding still; Loki has to remind him several times to keep his back straight. Tony knows what he looks like, tugging and pinching on command and arching into his own touch. His head is starting to feel clouded, he wants more, and eventually, he cracks and lets out something that’s not a whine, thank you very much. It just sounds a little bit like one. Pure coincidence. 

And Loki laughs. 

It’s shy of cruel, and it makes Tony’s cock throb in his pants even as his eyes sting, actually sting. He glares, but he’s so out of breath that the effect is weak. Loki smiles down at him, anyway, eyes softening. 

“Oh, I know,” he says. “I know, you deserve it. Open your pants.”

Tony hurries to obey, and almost gets a hand on his cock immediately, when he remembers what Loki said earlier. His hands pause, he looks up at Loki, waiting. 

“A quick study, indeed.” Loki lets his hands sink, and Tony thinks he will finally get a touch, but Loki doesn’t reach out for him. That’s easy to accept with Loki looking at him like he just hung the moon, though. “Norns, you’re lovely. Pull out your cock, pet, let me see.”

Holding his breath, Tony pushes his pants and boxers out of the way a bit so that he can pull his cock free. He grips the base a little too hard and feels his blush deepen, waiting for a reaction. He doesn’t need to wait long. 

“Very pretty. So hard, and I haven’t even touched you. Go ahead, darling, touch yourself for me. Just like you would if you were alone. And keep looking at me, I want to watch.”

Tony swallows and nods. He starts to stroke his cock – it’s a little dry, but he’s leaking enough at the tip to make it work. All of a sudden, looking at Loki is a lot harder. Even though Loki isn’t touching him, this is intimate, and Tony has to bite on his tongue to stop the moan that bubbles up in his throat. 

“Oh, are you feeling shy?” Loki says, teasing. “Please don’t. I’m sure you make the most charming noises. I’d like to hear them.”

Tony huffs, flustered. “Shut up.”

“Stop.”

“What? Come on, I –”

“I said stop.”

Tony flinches in reaction to the cutting tone. He stops touching himself, automatically puts his hand back on his thigh. 

“I’m fond of your sass, but I do think you’re capable of following simple orders.” Loki narrows his eyes. “With a bit of respect, preferably.”

Tony clenches his teeth. Respect isn’t something he’s good at, seriously. 

Loki leans back and crosses his legs again, perfectly nonchalant. “You’re free to go upstairs and take care of this on your own, of course. Would you prefer that?”

Smug bastard. Tony rolls his eyes. “No.”

Loki just looks at him. He’s expecting something more, clearly, and Tony is torn between telling him to fuck off and doing something, anything, to make him smile again. That’s a dangerous feeling. Tony isn’t sure if he likes it. He can’t remember the last time he actually wanted someone to be pleased with him – or the last time he tried to achieve that. That doesn’t happen, anyway, so he doesn’t usually bother. 

He can guess what Loki wants to hear. I’m sorry, maybe, with a pretty downward glance, or no, please, let me stay, all docile and eager. Tony can’t bring himself to say either. 

“I want to stay,” he says instead, and maybe he doesn’t manage anything pretty or docile, but it’s sincere, at least. All the way down to the crack in his voice on the last word. 

“I’m not sending you away,” Loki replies, a little softer. “But if I say stop, you stop. No discussions and no backtalk. Is that clear?”

Tony nods. His fingers twitch. “Yes, Loki.”

“Good boy. Touch.”

Relieved, Tony does just that. This is much easier to handle when he can focus on pleasure instead of the mess in his head. The whole good boy thing is weird, he’s not a dog, thanks, and still he likes the way it sounds. And the eye contact is a bit much, as in it’s a little too intimate for Tony’s liking, but at the same time he doesn’t want it to stop. Weird, as in new, as in exciting. As it turns out, he very much enjoys being something Loki likes to watch. 

“There, that’s better,” Loki says, voice still low. “Go on. You may use your other hand, too.”

Tony hesitates, then reaches down to cup his balls, squeezing slightly. Nice, but not really what he’s looking for. His breath quickens even more when he lets his hand wander up his chest again; he sees the second Loki gets what he wants to do, the knowledge lights up in Loki’s eyes, widens his smile. He’s reading Tony like an open book, and Tony likes it. Go figure. His nipples are still tight and a little sore, playing with them is more an afterthought now that he’s also stroking his cock, but it strengthens the pull of arousal in his stomach nonetheless. Shit, he won’t last; he bites his lip and tightens his grip on his cock, remembering the rules of this game all too well. He wonders what Loki would do if he broke them.

“Stop.”

Tony can’t stifle the moan in time. He stops touching himself, panting, fingers flexing in the air without anything to do. 

“Were you close?” Loki asks innocently. “Yes? Poor thing.”

“Loki,” Tony says, meaning it as a yeah, fuck you, too of some sort, but it comes out much too desperate. 

The lamp next to the sofa flickers. 

“I told you to ask, and you will. Do keep in mind that there are punishments you wouldn’t enjoy nearly as much as a few slaps.” 

The reminder of the slaps makes Tony squirm. “For example?”

“I could make you stare at a wall in complete silence for two hours.”

That makes Tony gape at him like a fucking goldfish. Loki just looks amused, and very pleased with himself. Of course he’s pleased with himself, he discovered the perfect threat, Tony’s mortal enemy: boredom. It’s ridiculous, and weird, and – 

A little hot, maybe. That Loki knows. That he can and will make Tony do as he’s told, because he knows exactly how to get Tony to regret acting up. Tony’s cock throbs. Fuck. 

“Touch,” Loki says, and Tony’s hand flies back to his cock. Loki chuckles and leans forward again, watching closely. “Wonderful. I see you’re starting to understand your role in this.”

Tony swallows hard, doesn’t find his voice. He can feel his orgasm coming, because yes, he does understand. Loki in control, and Tony – not. Loki on the sofa, unbothered, and Tony on his knees, touching himself on command. Trained to do exactly what Loki wants, no more and no less. 

“Stop.”

Again, Tony stops. His mind is spinning. He shifts on his knees, the position is getting uncomfortable, but he doesn’t want to move. It feels good. Right, even. His heart beats its way up into his throat, he looks up at Loki, waiting. Loki watches for a moment, then lets him touch again. Stop, touch, again and again; it takes a while. 

“Loki,” Tony gets out after a while, feeling dizzy. He’s touching, and he’s close, and he can tell that it will feel so fucking good. 

“Yes, darling?”

“Come on, I need –”

“Stop.”

So they do another round, and another, and Tony gets it, he does. He knows what Loki wants, and the scary thing is that Tony wants to give it to him, almost more than he wants to come. He’s not sure when that change happened. 

“Loki,” he says again, close to the edge again; he’s been saying Loki’s name a lot. It feels nice in his mouth. “Can I –”

He stops. Just starting to ask makes another wave of arousal rush through his body, he stumbles over his own tongue.

“Try again,” Loki orders, not unkindly. 

“Can I come, please? Please.”

“Yes, you may.” Loki touches him, then, fucking finally, a hand on his cheek to make sure he keeps looking at him. “Show me.”

Tony doesn’t think he can, at first, it’s too much, but in the end it’s easy. Loki doesn’t say stop, this time, and Tony comes with a choked groan, leaning into Loki’s touch. It leaves him breathless and shivering, and oddly disoriented, for a long moment, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

Loki’s touch is gentle. He brushes Tony’s hair out of his face. “That was perfect, Anthony. I’m proud of you.”

Fuck. It was the fucking wrong thing to say. It punches the air straight out of Tony’s lungs and makes his vision blur, and he tries to get his shit together but doesn’t know how. He wipes his face and realizes that his vision is blurry because his eyes are wet. He grimaces. 

“Would you like to come up here?”

Tony tries to pretend he isn’t crying, thank you very much. He doesn’t dare to speak, so he just makes a questioning noise. 

“I’d like to hold you.” Loki touches Tony’s cheek and wipes the tears away with his thumb. “I think it will help. Get up, darling.”

“I’m fine,” Tony mutters, but pushes himself up on one knee and then his feet, anyway. He’s sticky and tired and he wants to take a shower and then go hide somewhere. He wipes his hand on his pants, wrinkling his nose.

“Take them off,” Loki says. 

“Huh?”

Loki chuckles and tugs at Tony’s pants. “You’ll be more comfortable.”

Tony doesn’t have it in himself to resist. He huffs and pushes his pants down. As soon as he’s kicked them aside, Loki grabs him and pulls him close – gently and slowly, and still Tony is surprised. It’s impossible to resist. Tony ends up sitting sideways in Loki’s lap, leaning against his chest. At first, Tony is still tense, but Loki is so warm, and he wraps his arms around Tony and just holds him, without demanding anything else. Slowly, the tension seeps out of Tony’s body. 

Loki doesn’t say anything. Not even when Tony buries his face in the crook of his shoulder and grasps his shirt, trying to get as close as possible. Tony is determined not to actually start crying, and he’s not a cuddler, for fuck’s sake, so this won’t be a long affair. It’s just… nice. To be held. 

For a little while. 

Chapter Text

11

The first thing Tony realizes when he wakes up is that his back hurts. He opens his eyes, already annoyed, and frowns when he sees nothing but green. 

He lifts his head. Right. The sofa is green. He yawns and sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He notices three things in quick succession: one, his legs are still on Loki’s thighs, but his head was resting on a pillow on the sofa itself. Two, Loki hasn’t moved an inch. Three, Loki hasn’t moved an inch because he fell asleep and is currently drooling on the backrest. 

Tony blinks. 

He’s still wearing his shirt and boxers, but his pants are on the floor. Right, he took them off. Loki’s hand is lying loosely on Tony’s shin, about to slide off. He looks kind of adorable, and very, very human. 

Well. 

Tony makes a face and carefully lifts his legs out of Loki’s lap. Unfortunately, Loki wakes up at once. He does so with a flinch and then a grimace, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. At least Tony’s not the only one who fell asleep at an awkward angle. 

“Oops,” Tony says, not all too apologetic. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Loki waves that off, yawning. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Uh huh. It’s, what is it, noon? I should, uh.”

This is where Tony realizes that he has no idea what he should do.

Loki checks his wrist watch. “It’s not even eleven. How do you feel?”

“What?”

“How do you feel?” Loki repeats. His hand returns to Tony’s leg. “Better?”

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely. Riding cloud nine.” Tony does what he tried earlier and brings some distance between them. “In dire need of a coffee, though.”

Loki hums. He watches as Tony gets up and puts his pants back on. 

“Stop staring,” Tony snaps. 

“I will if you stop being so nice to stare at.” Loki yawns again and stretches his arms above his head. He does look away, though. “So never, I assume.”

“I’ll throw a book at you. Don’t test me, I’ll do it.”

“Then use one of the thrillers, please, I’m not all too fond of them.”

Tony rolls his eyes and closes the buttons on his shirt. He pauses. “Are you sure you don’t want me to, uh.”

Loki tilts his head to the side. Tony gestures at the vague direction of Loki’s crotch. 

“Oh. No, but it’s kind of you to offer.” Loki stands up as well, stretching again. “I wouldn’t say no to a cup of tea, though.”

Right. 

To Tony’s surprise, Loki follows him out of the room. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s a steady presence right behind Tony, and it makes his skin prickle. 

“I don’t need a babysitter, by the way,” he says over his shoulder, walking into the kitchen. “And I know how to make tea by now, so.”

“I can make tea myself.”

“Wow, that’s a new one.”

“I like to be unpredictable.”

Tony snorts. “Unpredictable, my ass. You think I can’t tell when you –”

He stops, because he stepped into water on his way to the coffee machine. He lifts his foot and stares for a moment, then looks at Loki. Loki, for some reason, seems incredibly entertained. 

“I think you broke my dishwasher.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

*

So Tony unloads the dishwasher and mops the floor while Loki sits on the kitchen counter like a tall child and drinks tea. 

“There is a rule about not breaking my belongings,” he says, dangling his feet. 

“There’s a rule about not willfully breaking your belongings,” Tony corrects. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I don’t think that pan should be put into a dishwasher.” 

“You’re an alien, you don’t know shit about dishwashers. Also it’s been making weird noises the whole time, so it was only a matter of time, anyway.”

“I’ll have someone come and take a look at it.”

“No, don’t bother. I’ll do it.”

Tony doesn’t like the sound of Loki’s silence.

He stops mopping for a moment to look at Loki. “What.”

“Nothing.”

“Do you think I can’t fix a dishwasher? Come on.”

“You build weapons, not dishwashers.”

It’s the first time he mentions it. Scratch that, it’s the first time he says anything about Tony’s life that’s not a question. So far, Tony actually thought that Loki just didn’t know. 

“You know about that?”

Loki raises a brow. “New York is my city. I’ve been aware of your family ever since your father founded his business. Of course I know who you are.”

Great. He’s seen what the press has to say about Tony, no doubt. Stark heir proves he’s a disaster once again, more at seven. “Then why did you pretend you didn’t know me? You asked for my name and everything.”

“We couldn’t have made the deal otherwise.”

Maybe that makes sense in Loki’s world. Tony continues mopping, because his life is weird and there’s nothing he can do about it. “I can fix the dishwasher. Unless you want to take care of it with your sparkly powers?”

Loki doesn’t seem amused by the description, and even less by the matching gesture Tony makes with his free hand. “I do not have ‘sparkly powers’.”

“Yeah, you do, I’ve seen you use them. Can you get rid of the water?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to?”

“No.” In reaction to Tony’s glare, Loki adds, “It would be a waste of magic, and you seem to be doing well enough. Is this your first time using a mop?”

“So what if it is? When was the last time you cleaned something, your highness?”

Loki wrinkles his nose, which is answer enough. 

*

Loki watches Tony repair the dishwasher. The pump is broken, and Loki offers to order a new one, but Tony rummages through everything in the supply closet next to the kitchen until he finds what he needs to fix it. It’s surprisingly easy, because Loki seems to be a collector of broken things. 

“It’s like every time something in this house broke, you kept the parts,” Tony says, elbow deep inside the dishwasher. “Is that some kind of hobby of yours?”

“I’ve been living in this house for a long time, so I’ve gathered some things, yes. There is even more in the attic.”

Tony glances over his shoulder. “You’ve been living here since you guys showed up?”

“Yes.”

“That’s, what, a hundred years?”

“One hundred and twelve.”

Tony has been back in New York for six years and he’s already itching to get away again. Then again, their situations probably can’t be compared. 

Tony turns back to the dishwasher. “I’ve seen you once. I mean, before all this.”

“You have?”

“Yeah. Just from afar. I was – fourteen, I think. New Year’s Eve. I was home from college, and my dad dragged me along. To network, or whatever.”

“I remember.”

Tony pauses. “Really?”

“There aren’t many children present, usually. I hadn’t considered it, but yes, of course that was you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You were very loud.”

Of course he was. It’s probably the reason Howard did not drag him along the year after that. Tony remembers being pissed about that, and then acting like he didn’t care the next year. New Year’s Eve is a big thing, here in New York. It’s not in other cities, but it usually falls in the last month of Loki’s rite, so instead of setting a different day every year, Loki always does New Year’s Eve. Tony remembers it, his first big, important party, and just as fucking annoying as every one that followed. The lights, the people, drinking too much and laughing too loud, celebrating yet another year. Another deal that hasn’t even gone fully through yet. A giant pile of the usual pretentious, ass-kissing bullshit. 

But it’s the perfect day for it, what with the fireworks and everything. 

“I have to go to that party this year, don’t I,” Tony says. 

“Ideally, yes.”

Tony is glad that his hands have something to do. “But you won’t tell anyone about – you know. Right?”

He doesn’t elaborate, but thankfully, Loki understands. 

“No. I always demand the same thing from my guests, but that is all people will know about our deal. Unless you choose to tell someone, of course.”

Tony is not going to lose a single word about what’s been happening to anyone. Definitely not. Nope. 

“Listen, as far as I’m concerned, what happens in your fancy little murder cabin stays in your fancy little murder cabin.”

“It’s not a murder cabin.”

“It’s a big house in the middle of the woods, the next neighbor is like a million miles away, and there’s a lake you can dump bodies in. It’s a murder cabin. Also, did you really demand obedience from that old lady who taught you how to knit?”

“Yes, but we executed that rule quite differently. Obedience is a surprisingly vague term.”

“So are safety, health and prosperity.”

Loki is quiet for a moment. “Yes.”

Yes. That’s why Tony’s father is an alcoholic and his mother is depressed. Loopholes. 

Fixing the dishwasher doesn’t take long. Tony switches it on for a test run and wipes his hands on a kitchen towel. Loki is still there, watching. 

“I’ll make lunch,” Tony says, tossing the towel away. “Could you fuck off?”

Loki raises a brow. “Are you scared of letting me watch you cook?”

“No, I just want to be alone for like twenty fucking minutes. Can we do that?”

Loki doesn’t seem offended. He nods and slides off the counter. “Of course. I’ll be in the library. Would you like to have lunch alone?”

Tony hesitates. He opens the fridge to give himself something to do. “No, I – the library’s fine.”

“Very well.”

Tony tenses up when he feels Loki’s hand on his shoulder. But Loki is careful, and the only thing he does is lean forward to kiss Tony’s cheek from behind. It makes Tony want to fucking melt. Loki leaves the kitchen without another word. 

*

“Did you enjoy yourself earlier?” Loki asks during lunch, breaking their unspoken agreement not to mention earlier ever again. 

Well, maybe it’s not as much unspoken as nonexistent, but still. Come on.

Tony makes a face. He’s sitting in the armchair, plate balancing on his drawn up knees, and just took a healthy bite of his sandwich. He went up to change and shower before he came here and now feels a little better, so of course Loki has to ruin that. 

“Do we have to talk about it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’ve had sex before, haven’t you?”

“Duh.”

“Have you never talked to a partner about what you liked and disliked?”

“No use,” Tony says dryly. “I usually don’t sleep with the same person twice.”

“Oh, I see. Then you’re not interested in a repetition?”

“Stop being so smug, it doesn’t suit you.”

“It suits me very well,” Loki says, and he’s right, of course. “So?”

“I liked it.” Tony concentrates on the sandwich very hard. “I’d like to do it again. Happy?”

“What did you like about it?”

Is he serious?

“What did you like about it?” Tony parrots. Two-way street, asshole. 

Loki gives him his version of a bitch, please look. “I liked watching you enjoy yourself, but also denying you. Pleasure and frustration are equally good looks on you, and I’d like to see both again. I liked that you let yourself fall in the end, especially because it was difficult for you. That’s a gift I don’t take lightly.”

Tony glares at him. Of course he can just say shit like that. He’s good at everything, apparently. 

“But just for the record,” Tony says, “you didn’t think it was hot.”

“No.”

“Great.”

“That’s not a failure on your part,” Loki tells him, and he seems sincere. And slightly exasperated. “You can’t – and won’t – change that. Believe me, people have tried.”

“I don’t mean –” Shit. He’s being a dick, isn’t he? He is. “I don’t get it, that’s all. And I don’t like the thought of you not being into it at all.”

It equals me in this case. Tony sure hopes Loki won’t figure that out. 

“I just told you that I was. Can’t you imagine that having that sort of control over you might be satisfying in a way that has nothing to do with sex?”

Tony avoids looking at Loki. “I guess.”

Loki sighs quietly. “You said you would like to do it again. Is there anything in particular you want more of?”

Tony knows the answer to that question at once. He wants more of that feeling at the end, of doing what Loki says without second-guessing everything – more of enjoying the attention rather than freaking out about. And more of the warmth in Loki’s voice when he said yes, you may. 

He can’t say that, though. Not without sounding like an idiot. Maybe he could say other things – he’d like more of the shame, too, more of that steely look in Loki’s eyes when he told him off. Feeling like something Loki can and will control; like he’s good enough to be corrected rather than thrown away when he fucks up. And he will fuck up. He always does. 

No, that’s even worse. That makes the damn stinging in his eyes come back. He puts his plate on the table; he’s lost his appetite. He leans back, keeping his legs drawn up against his chest, and crosses his arms. He’s all over the place, coming apart at the seams, and he wants it to stop. 

“Or something you don’t want more of?” Loki says finally, and Tony wants to take all his kindness and shove it up his godly ass. 

“Could’ve done without all the back and forth,” he says, tone flat. “The – you know, having to stop touching all the time.”

Loki’s plate is already empty. It has been empty for a while; he ate his lunch in record time. All his focus is on Tony now, just like before, just like always, really. 

“Did it go on for too long?” Loki tilts his head to the side, thoughtful. “I wanted you to get there in your own time. I’m sorry if it got too frustrating to bear, that wasn’t my intention.”

“No, that’s –” Tony rubs his eye, he’s tired as fuck. “That’s not what I mean. I didn’t mind the –” The no touching or coming until you allowed it part, that was really hot, actually, can we do that again? Ugh. “I just didn’t know what to do in the. Well. Meantime.”

“You did exactly what you were supposed to,” Loki says. “Which was waiting until I told you to keep touching.”

“Yeah, I don’t handle boredom well, that’s all.”

“Boredom or delayed gratification? Because I don’t believe you were bored for even one second.”

“Okay, fine, maybe not, good job, you. Do you want a gold star or something?”

“Yes, please.”

Tony’s laugh slips through before he can stop it. “Yeah, okay. I just meant, it was easier when I couldn’t –” 

What, think himself into a spiral? Yes, pretty much. He doesn’t like having nothing to do, never has. 

“I’ll make you wait now and then,” Loki says, tone mild. “I think learning patience would be quite good for you.”

“Very funny.”

Loki smiles like he’s not at all joking. “But I’ll take care not to leave you alone with your thoughts for too long. And if you need something from me, even if it’s just another order, you may always ask. Yes?”

“Uh huh.”

“Anything else you didn’t like?”

Tony shakes his head. He wants this conversation to be over. He stands up and takes the plates, clearing his throat. “Uhm. Tea?”

Loki smiles. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

Tony leaves the room. In the kitchen, the dishwasher runs like a dream. He brings Loki a cup of his favorite tea and doesn’t melt when Loki gives him that pleased smile in response. Not at all. 

“Nothing for you?” Loki asks. He grabbed a book while Tony was gone, so their conversation is over, not just paused, thank fuck. 

“No, I – I’m gonna take a nap upstairs.”

He expects some sort of protest, but Loki only nods. “Would you like me to wake you when it’s time for dinner?”

“I’ll just set an alarm.”

“Alright.”

And that’s that. Tony goes upstairs and is out like a light as soon as his bed hits the pillow. 

12

Breakfast is just as uneventful as dinner the night before. Tony wonders briefly if Loki expects him to ask for the hand feeding again, but Loki doesn’t mention it at all. Tony isn’t sure if he’s disappointed or relieved. 

“I didn’t say it was bad, I said it was boring. I don’t know who any of the people are, I don’t get half of what they’re saying, and it just drones on and on –”

“I told you it wasn’t a good place to start.”

“But I wanted to start at the beginning, and you said this one covers the whole creation of Middle Earth and everything. Which it does, I guess, but oh my god.” Tony follows Loki into the library. “Are the others like this, too?”

“No, the other books are easier to read,” Loki says, a little distracted as he sits down in his usual spot on the sofa. “Did I leave my book in the dining room?”

“It’s not that I think it’s difficult to read,” Tony says, because he’s not fucking twelve. “I’ll finish it. I just don’t like it.”

Loki laughs. “Don’t finish it if you don’t like it. Start with The Hobbit instead, it’s lovely. Entirely different from the other three, style-wise, but lovely.”

“I’ll finish it,” Tony says, stubborn. He hesitates,  because what he wants is to sit down next to Loki on the sofa and get away with some purely accidental touches, but that’s nothing he can just do, right? Right, so he sits down in the armchair instead. He looks at Loki, then frowns. “Didn’t you just say you left it in the dining room?”

Loki, who is already reading the book he was carrying around earlier, smiles. “Did I?”

“Sparkly powers,” Tony says. 

“No.”

“Yes. Listen, I –” He stops and swallows, unsure if he should even bring it up. But he’s been on edge all morning waiting for Loki to bring it up, so. “About yesterday?”

Loki’s gaze snaps away from the book to Tony’s face. “Yes?”

“I, uh. Didn’t go running.”

“No, you did not,” Loki agrees lightly. 

Tony waits for a moment, then narrows his eyes. “You’ve just been waiting for me to tell you, right?”

“I wasn’t sure if you even noticed. What did we agree on? Roughly one hour of exercise every day, yes?”

“I just forgot,” Tony says, getting annoyed. He just brought it up because he knew it would bite his ass later otherwise, because of course Loki noticed. “I was tired as fuck, so I forgot.”

“I know.” Loki’s eyes soften. “I won’t punish you for needing rest. But I do think we should add a new rule.”

“A new rule?”

“Yes. If you need to skip a day for whatever reason, you’ll ask.”

Tony looks down at his book, fiddling with the pages. “I can decide shit like that myself.”

“I know. But I want to decide it for you, and I think you want to let me.”

Tony’s stomach does something funny. He sinks a little further into the armchair, wanting to hide. “I didn’t come here because I wanted to let you do anything.”

Loki acknowledges that with a tilt of his head. “But we might as well make the most of it now that you are here. So?”

Tony opens his book. “Green. I’ll add it to the list.”

“Lovely.”

Tony reads a few pages of The Silmarillion, but it’s still boring, and he can’t stop stealing glances at Loki. Like always, Loki looks tired. The shadows under his eyes seem a little deeper than usual. For the first time – and he doesn’t like what that says about him – he wonders if Loki is okay. A god shouldn’t look that exhausted all the time. 

“Something you need, pet?” Loki asks without looking up from his book. 

Embarrassed that Loki caught him staring, Tony hurries to focus on his book again, then realizes that only makes matters worse. Loki is already smirking. 

“No,” Tony says. “All good, thanks.”

“Come and sit next to me.”

Tony looks back at Loki, stunned. Loki just waits. Tony swallows and stands up. He could sit down next to Loki with the usual polite distance between them, but he decides to push back. He sits down right next to Loki, all but leaning against him, and tucks in his legs so that his knee is resting on Loki’s thigh. 

Loki isn’t flustered, because of course he isn’t. He just smiles and puts his hand on Tony’s knee, thumb drawing lazy circles. After a moment, he uses it to turn a page, but his hand keeps returning to Tony’s leg. 

Focusing on the book is even harder now. 

*

Tony comes back from his run – two rounds, because he tried to sneak out of the house without permission – just in time to make dinner. He takes a very fast shower and jogs down to the kitchen, where he opens a page of the cooking book he’s been using at random. 

Lasagna. Can’t be that hard. 

Loki saunters into the kitchen while Tony is still working on the sauce. Tony looks over his shoulder only briefly, then rolls his eyes and turns back to the stove. 

“Why do you keep following me into the kitchen? The dishwasher’s fine, I won’t break anything else.”

“So you admit that you broke it?”

“No. Fuck off.”

“So rude,” Loki says, cheerful. He comes up behind Tony, and before Tony knows what’s happening, Loki is kissing his cheek. Again. His hands are warm on Tony’s sides. “To answer your question, I like being around you.”

Tony knows his face is going a very unattractive shade of red. “What.”

“The reason why I keep following you into the kitchen. This doesn’t smell too bad.”

“I – okay, you know what – I know you just say shit like that to mess with me, come on.”

Loki hums. “Maybe, yes. But that doesn’t make it any less true. And in my defense, flustering you is incredibly entertaining, and so very easy.”

“No, it’s not.”

“No?” Loki pulls away and leans against the counter next to Tony, grinning. “Then I must be imagining –”

“Shut up or I’ll splash you with sauce.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Tony raises the cooking spoon in Loki’s direction. Loki’s hand is around Tony’s wrist immediately, keeping him from flinging the spoon at Loki’s face like he wanted. The drops of sauce hit Loki’s shirt instead. 

“I should have known,” Loki says, a resigned smile tugging at his lips. “Do not do that again.”

Despite Loki’s tight grip on Tony’s wrist, Tony manages to flick the spoon at him again. More drops land on Loki’s throat. “I warned you. I’m not above starting a full blown food fight, so watch out.”

“You’re a terror,” Loki informs him. He lets go of Tony’s wrist and peers down at himself, scooping the sauce up with his thumb. He proceeds to lick it clean, because he’s a tease and he’s absolutely doing that on purpose as revenge. “This isn’t as bad as I expected.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“I have half a mind to make you do laundry by hand from now on.” Loki rubs at his shirt, trying to get rid of the stains. He’s making it worse. 

“How does that work, anyway? And the kitchen, too.”

“The kitchen?”

“It’s always stocked, but I’ve never seen anyone come and deliver anything.”

“Simple relocation runes. I have an agreement with the nearest store.”

“Okay. I’ll just pretend that made any kind of sense.”

“Would you like me to explain?”

Tony stops stirring the sauce and looks at Loki, surprised. “Wait. You would?”

“If you’re interested, yes.”

“Am I interested? Are you kidding?” Tony turns off the stove. “Move, I need to get the dish, and – okay, you’re going to stay here and tell me everything I want to know.”

“Within reason,” Loki adds. He’s grinning, though, and he answers Tony’s questions without hesitation – about the kitchen and the laundry, and the difference between conjuring and summoning, and something that he calls pocket dimensions. 

He stays in the kitchen until the lasagne is done. They’re still talking when they relocate into the dining room, but Loki puts the conversation on pause by saying, “Kneel.”

Tony stops short, staring at Loki. “Why?”

“Really, pet.” Loki sits down on his usual chair and opens the wine bottle. “Did you think that display in the kitchen would have no consequences?“

Damn.

“Uh. Yes?”

Loki gives him an amused look. “Once was charming. Twice was stupid. Do I have to repeat myself?”

Tony huffs and walks around the table so that he can kneel next to Loki’s chair. “You want to hand feed me lasagna? That’ll be a mess.”

“And still it wouldn’t be a punishment,” Loki says dryly. “You enjoy eating from my hands. If you want that again, you’ll ask, or perhaps I’ll use it as a reward when I think you deserve it.”

The implication – that he doesn’t deserve it now – sits in Tony’s stomach like a cold stone. “What, so you can’t handle a bit of fooling around?”

“Oh, naturally. But I gave you a direct order you didn’t follow, and you promised me obedience. Didn’t you?”

Tony clenches his teeth. There’s the steel again, both in Loki’s eyes and voice, and it makes Tony feel things he shouldn’t be feeling right now. He nods. 

“Yes. So you will kneel and wait until I’m finished, and then you can eat.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Yes, Loki,” Tony says, with a sharp, insincere grin. 

Loki leans down to him and cups his jaw. Tony stops moving, stops breathing, because Loki’s thumb is resting on his throat, just shy above his Adam’s apple. The threat is clear. 

“Now,” Loki says quietly, “do I have to slap you to distract you from that insistent urge to argue? Or can you be good without my help?”

Tony’s mouth is suddenly very dry. He wants more of Loki’s touch so badly that he’s dizzy with it. Fuck. 

“I can,” he says, voice thick. “Loki.”

“Good boy.” Loki’s hand squeezes slightly, and then he pulls back. He turns to the table and pours wine into one of the glasses. “Would you like to hear more about illusions? I’m quite fond of them.”

Relieved that he won’t have to wait in silence, Tony lets out a sigh. “Yeah, please.”

God, he’s in so much trouble.

Chapter Text

15

“Stop asking me if I’m fine,” Tony says, because honestly. “I’m okay. I told you, he’s not – like the others, I guess. I don’t have to do anything I really don’t want.”

“Oh, great, so you just have to do things you kinda don’t want?”

Tony huffs. He tugs at the blanket with his free hand, needing something to do. “I didn’t want to come here in the first place, so everything about this something I kinda don’t want.”

Rhodey is quiet for a moment. “Right. I just mean –”

“I know what you mean. And it’s fine.”

“Okay.” Another pause. “What’s he like?”

“Loki? He’s okay. Weird, but okay.”

“Very convincing, Tones.”

“Well, he’s polite. And charming. And he can be really funny and – you know, nice, but he’s also kind of an ass.” Tony shrugs. “And he’s hot.”

Rhodey is quiet for a second or two, then, “You didn’t.”

“What? I just said he’s hot. I can think that someone’s hot without doing anything about it.”

“No, you can’t,” Rhodey drawls. “You’ve been there for two weeks and you’ve already hooked up with him, haven’t you?”

“I just told you it’s not like that!”

“You just told me he’s hot –”

“Well, he is. But I haven’t hooked up with him.”

“Uh huh.”

“I mean, not really.”

Rhodey sighs. “You said you’d keep your head down and get the three months over with, and now you’re fucking a god? Voluntarily?”

“I’m not,” Tony says, happy that he doesn’t even have to lie. “There’s no fucking. Apparently, I am not getting into his pants, and believe me, nobody’s more heartbroken about it than me. We haven’t even kissed or anything.”

“But something is going on, right? I can tell.”

“Well, I’m trapped with an ancient god I have to obey for another two and a half months, so yeah, you could say that something is going on.”

“Tony,” Rhodey says, and oh, Tony doesn’t like the sound of that. “I just don’t want – rumor says they get attached sometimes, and then the sacrifices don’t come back. You know that.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Rumor also says I’m only a genius because dad implanted a microchip in my brain when I was a baby. Rumor says the craziest shit. You really think he’ll want to keep me around longer than necessary? Come on.”

“If there’s someone weird and clever enough on this planet to catch a god’s attention, it’s probably you.”

“I’m taking that as compliment, so thanks a lot. I’m fine. Okay? You don’t have to worry.”

“Okay.” Rhodey still doesn’t sound all too convinced. “Where is he right now? He’s not listening in, is he?”

“No, he’s in his room.”

“What does he even do all day?”

That gives Tony pause. “No idea, really. He just kind of… hangs around. He reads a lot, and when he’s not reading he’s in his room, but I don’t know what he does in there. Some magic voodoo bullshit, probably.” He checks the time. “I have to go soon, I need to make dinner.”

“He’s making you cook for him?”

Tony, knowing what’s coming, sighs. “Yup.”

“Poor guy.”

“Yes, I know.”

“At MIT, you barely knew how to use a microwave. You get any better since then?”

“Shut up, Platypus. I’m getting really good, fuck you, too.” Tony gets up from the bed. “Well, Loki likes it, anyway.”

“Well, if Loki likes it.”

“I’m gonna hang up now,” Tony announces. “Because you’re being an ass. Try not to get shot, alright?”

“I’ll try my best,” Rhodey says. “And Tony –”

“Yeah?”

“Take care, okay? Don’t let him give you shit.”

“You know who you’re talking to, right?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m worried.”

Tony ends the call. A moment later, a text from Rhodey comes in. A kissing face emoji. Tony snorts and sends a heart back, then goes downstairs. 

*

“I already thought you weren’t coming.”

Tony watches as Loki comes into the room, approaching the table. He gives Tony a tired smile. 

“I’m sorry I let you wait.”

“Eh, it was just five minutes. Can I make you kneel for a change?”

Loki quirks a brow. “Would you like to?”

“Not really.”

Loki looks like he isn’t at all surprised and sits down. “Did you call your friend?”

“Yeah.”

He gets a smile as a reward. Tony isn’t all too impressed. It’s not like Loki ordered him to call Rhodey, but he made it clear that he would like it if he did. He mentioned Tony’s parents, too, but yeah, Tony isn’t calling them. No way. 

“What is he like?” Loki asks.

“Rhodey? Oh, he’s a total mother hen. We shared a room in college. He’s a couple of years older than me, so. He worries.”

“I can’t imagine that you ever gave him something to worry about.” Loki takes a first bite and immediately his nose scrunches up. He swallows bravely, though. 

“I used a little too much lemon,” Tony says. 

“Yes, I can tell.”

“I think the spinach cancels it out a bit, so it’s still edible, right?”

“Barely,” Loki says, “but yes.”

So, Rhodey was right, of course. Tony is a terrible cook, and Loki does not like it. Tony huffs and prods at the risotto with his fork. “You look like shit, by the way.”

“Why, thank you, darling.”

“When was the last time you slept? Last year?”

Loki gives him a surprisingly pissed off look. 

Tony raises his brows and swallows a mouthful of far too sour risotto. “Someone’s tetchy, huh?”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

Tony has no idea if that’s an apology or a dismissal. “Right, sure. Let’s just eat in tense silence, then, I’m really good at that.”

Five minutes later, he says, “I changed my mind, this sucks. Are you sure you shouldn’t be in bed? Because you look like you should be in bed.”

Loki glances at him, softening. “I’m fine. There’s no reason to worry.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Of course not.”

“I’m not,” Tony says. “Just, if you die, what happens to our deal?”

“I’m not dying, but thank you for implying that I look like I might.”

“You’re welcome. Do you want to hear about a prank Rhodey and I pulled in college?”

Loki blinks. “Yes.”

*

After dinner, they go to the library together, just like the days before. Tony is surprised; he expected Loki to go back to his room where he was for most of the day, but Loki seems determined to keep Tony company. Tony isn’t about to complain, he’s been bored out of his mind all day, and his conversation with Rhodey didn’t really help. It just made him think. 

Loki is already sitting, and clearly confused by the way Tony is hovering uncertainly in the middle of the room. He switched on the tall lamp next to the sofa, bathing everything in warm, soft light. Tony’s book is waiting for him on the table, he was reading there earlier, and he really wants to sit down next to Loki, but. The thing is.

The thing is.

“I have a question,” he says.

Loki blinks at him slowly. “I’m listening?”

“Do you do kissing?”

“Do I do… kissing?”

“Yes. Because I thought about it earlier and now I’m wondering, from a purely scientific standpoint, if that’s something you’re into. I’m just curious, and it’s fine if you aren’t, but I thought I could at least ask if – you know.”

Someone takes Loki’s confusion and replaces it with amusement in 0.2 seconds flat. “Anthony, are you asking me to kiss you?”

“No.” Tony crosses his arms and tries to pretend like he’s not already blushing. “I’m asking if you’re into kissing. Theoretically.“

“Theoretically,” Loki says, slowly, like he’s savoring every syllable, “yes.”

Wait, really?

“What?”

“Yes, I am into kissing. Theoretically.”

Tony stares at Loki. Loki stares back, waiting, with all the patience in the fucking world, apparently. 

Tony clears his throat. “And. Practically?”

“Also yes.”

“Oh,” Tony says. “Okay.”

That… does not make Tony feel much better. If Loki wanted to kiss Tony, he would have already, right? They spent enough time together in the last couple of days, hell, they practically cuddled on the sofa every night. It’s not like there weren’t any chances. 

“Come here, then.”

Tony looks at Loki, unsure. After a moment, he goes to Loki and sits down next to him, keeping enough space between them. Loki snorts, amused, and ignores Tony’s dark look in favor of pulling him closer. His hands stay on Tony’s sides, and Tony tries to not make a fool of himself for a change and keep breathing like a normal person, but the sudden closeness makes warmth spill over in his belly. Loki chuckles quietly and leans in, pressing his lips to Tony’s temple. Tony is about to push at Loki’s chest and complain because he didn’t mean that kind of kiss, thanks for that, but then Loki cups his face and makes complaining redundant. 

It’s a chaste kiss, all things considered. Sweet. Loki pulls away after just a few seconds. Tony’s face feels hot and he’s staring at Loki like an idiot. As usual. 

Fuck it. 

“Again?” he asks, his voice rough. “Please.”

Something absolutely fantastic scurries over Loki’s face, an expression that tells Tony that was the right thing to say, but he doesn’t have enough time to appreciate the reaction properly. Loki kisses him again, more firmly this time, and Tony decides that breathing isn’t important, after all. He kisses back and pushes back the quiet voice in his head that says really, Tones, I don’t feel like this is going to end well. Who cares? It’ll feel really fucking good until then. 

“Oh, you’re good at this, aren’t you,” Loki murmurs when he breaks the kiss again, a hand sliding down Tony’s side to his thigh. “Come here.”

He hooks his hand under Tony’s knee and pulls his legs in his lap, wrapping his other arm around Tony’s middle. Tony has to swallow when he realizes that Loki can move him without the slightest problems, like he weighs nothing. 

“You may touch me,” Loki says, and Tony thinks, oh, right, thank god. 

He grasps Loki’s shirt and pulls him into another kiss, wanting more. Loki smiles into it and changes the angle slightly, opening his mouth. Tony shivers when he feels Loki’s tongue, teasingly slow. He makes the most out of the permission to touch – his hand wanders from Loki’s chest to his neck, thumb brushing against his jaw, feeling it work as Loki deepens the kiss. Loki feels like any other person Tony has ever kissed, warm, alive, his chest moving with increasingly shallow breaths, his hair soft and soon messy under Tony’s touch. It feels different, though. Loki sets the pace, and when Tony dares too much – pulling at Loki’s hair, biting his lower lip – Loki puts an end to it at once. Tony’s mind is hazy with it, the way Loki’s nails dig into Tony’s wrist when he guides his hand back to where he wants it, or the pleased hum vibrating in Loki’s throat when Tony stops pushing for more and just takes what he is given. 

“You’re lovely,” Loki says between kisses, pressing his lips against the corner of Tony’s mouth, his jaw. His tongue flicks out, tasting skin. “Absolutely delightful. Breathe, darling. Do you feel good?”

“Yeah.” Tony’s breath stutters when Loki’s teeth nip his skin, making a shiver run down his spine. “Fuck, yes, I’m fine. Do that again.”

Unimpressed, Loki puts a hand flat on Tony’s chest and pushes. Tony has no choice but to fall back, the sudden distance between them knocks the remaining air out of his chest. Loki moves quickly, the grip of his hand tight on Tony’s thigh as he lifts Tony’s leg out of the way. Tony helps automatically, spreading his legs, and the sight of Loki kneeling between them and looking down at him terminates every feeble protest against being manhandled. Well, maybe he likes being manhandled. Sue him. 

“Ask nicely and I might,” Loki says, leaning over him, a hand on the armrest of the sofa above Tony’s head. He kisses Tony again, briefly, before his mouth returns to Tony’s neck. 

“Huh?” Tony manages, because he has no idea what Loki is even talking about. 

Loki huffs out a laugh. “You have a remarkably short attention span for someone so clever.”

Tony wants to argue, but he forgets about it when Loki sucks at his neck, doubtlessly leaving a mark. He feels Loki’s hand on his hip, fingertips sneaking under his t-shirt. It’s just a light touch, but it makes Tony moan, anyway. He’s been wanting Loki to touch him for ages. And Loki does touch him, he even pushes up Tony’s shirt so that he can explore more of Tony’s chest without the fabric getting in the way. He scoots back a little and bends down to kiss Tony’s stomach. Tony suffers through a reaction he will not call butterflies, but it does come pretty close. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. 

“Stubbly,” Loki comments, stroking lightly over the skin not far above the waistband of Tony’s jeans. “Your chest, too.”

Tony is not amused. Not not amused enough to slap Loki’s hand away, but still. “Been a while since my last waxing, what with being stuck in a murder cabin and all. I’ll shave.”

“Why would you do such a thing?” Loki asks, surprised. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?“

“No shaving.” Loki slips his thumb under Tony’s pants, sliding it over the warm skin underneath. “Your face, fine. But you’ll leave the rest alone.”

Tony can not focus on what Loki is saying as long as Loki’s hand is that close to his cock. “Loki, come on.”

“Oh, am I being a tease again?” Loki tugs at the waistband, playful, then takes his hand away.  “Forgive me. Take off your clothes.”

Still breathing hard, Tony stares at him. “I –”

“Now, pet, before I change my mind.”

Right, okay. Tony opens his pants, lifting his hips so that he can push them down. It’s a bit of a struggle, but he manages to take them off without kicking Loki in the face or looking, he hopes, all too ridiculous. He sits up and pulls his shirt over his head. Loki watches it fly with a raised brow when Tony tosses it away. Tony takes off his socks and throws them aside as well, then tries to climb into Loki’s lap.

The attempt fails. 

“What do you think you’re doing, darling?” Loki asks, a hand on Tony’s chest to keep him from coming closer. “Lie back down. Your head here, please.”

He pats his thigh. Tony glares, but doesn’t try to get away from Loki’s hand. “Can’t I get another kiss first?”

This attempt fails as well. 

In reaction to Loki’s displeased look, Tony raises his hands and moves. “Alright, alright. Sorry, your highness.”

He lets himself fall onto the sofa again and lies down, his head resting on Loki’s thigh. He grins up at Loki, and it’s not as much for show as it could be. Should be. He likes the way Loki’s expression cracks in reaction, amusement shining through. He runs a hand through Tony’s hair, then trails a finger down his throat. His smile returns. 

“You truly are beautiful. Your eyes in particular, though I’m sure you’ve been told that many times before.”

Not really. As in, not at all. Tony swallows. “Uh, yeah, sure, but you can – tell me again. I don’t mind.”

“Yes, I can tell that you don’t.”

Oh, no. Tony is developing some sort of Pavlovian reaction to that smug smirk. Not good. 

“I want to see you come again. Touch yourself.”

Fine, maybe a bit good. Tony’s hand moves down his chest to his cock; he’s been hard a while now, and being allowed to touch is a relief. The thought makes him flush; it’s not like he was waiting for permission. He wasn’t. Absolutely not. 

Loki’s long fingers come to rest on Tony’s throat, but they don’t apply any pressure. “Remember to ask for permission. Apart from that, don’t hold back.”

“Oh, I’m really good at not holding back,” Tony murmurs, grin becoming crooked as he strokes himself, rubbing the head of his cock. It’s getting slick. Tony squirms a little, enjoying the pressure building up in his lower belly.    

“Are you really?” Loki says softly. His hand strokes lower, petting Tony’s chest. 

Tony hums and looks up at him, which is a mistake, because Loki is staring again. In that way that makes Tony feel like he’s being turned inside out. It’s not bad, just – a lot. Loki grins at him and then covers Tony’s eyes with his hand, making him freeze in surprise. Loki’s hand is a warm weight, somewhere between strange and comforting. 

“Better?” Loki asks, teasing. 

“Uh.” Tony tries to move his head, but Loki’s hand doesn’t give him much wiggle room. Fuck, he is strong, Tony would probably hurt himself trying to get free. His breath quickens. 

“Color, darling?”

“Green,” Tony says, a crack in his voice. “Just don’t break my neck.”

“I won’t.”

“You could, though.”

“Very easily, yes.”

“Fuck.”

Loki chuckles. His other hand slides down to Tony’s chest again, stroking over his pecs. “I would never let any harm come to you. Go on.”

God, Tony’s chest is going to jump straight out of his chest. He takes a breath, trying to calm down. He feels fucking giddy. He knows he shouldn’t be grinning like an idiot right now, but he can’t help it. He tightens his grip on his cock, giving himself a few strokes. 

“Good boy,” Loki says, so damn warm. “So good, just perfect. That feels nice, doesn’t it?”

Tony nods, the movement small since Loki is still keeping him in place. He keeps his eyes closed under Loki’s hand, chest heaving with ragged breaths. He spreads his legs a little, heels digging into the sofa, and thrusts up into his fist. He bites down on his lower lip and at once he feels a fingertip brushing against his mouth. It slips past his lips and presses down on his tongue. Tony groans. Loki doesn’t say anything, just pushes another finger into Tony’s mouth. It’s overwhelming, the way Loki seems to be everywhere now, even though he’s only touching Tony’s face. Tony speeds up his strokes, whining.

“Close, pet?” Loki asks, almost cooing. 

Tony nods as well as he can, sucking on Loki’s fingers. 

“Ask.”

Loki’s fingers disappear, leaving Tony strangely empty. He gasps for breath. “May I come? Loki –”

“Oh, you’re wonderful.”

“Please.”

“Yes, darling, go ahead.”

Tony comes into his own fist a few seconds later, shuddering. Loki murmurs sweet words to him that Tony can barely understand under the rushing in his ears. He’s still catching his breath when Loki takes his hand away from Tony’s eyes. He reaches down to take Tony’s hand and lift it to his mouth, licking the come off his fingers.

Tony’s breath stutters. “You’re so weird,” he says, eyes glued to the pink tip of Loki’s tongue. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you mind?”

“No, uh. All yours.” Tony yanks his eyes away when the lamp next to the sofa flickers. “That lightbulb needs changing.”

“The lightbulb is fine,” Loki says, his smile warm and pleased. He lets go of Tony’s hand and strokes Tony’s hair instead. “Thank you. That was lovely.”

Tony makes a somewhat strangled noise. “Can I get up?”

“Of course.”

Tony sits up and stretches his neck. He’s shivering. The cushions dip next to him as Loki moves, grabbing a blanket. 

“Thanks,” Tony says, blushing as he hides under the blanket and pulls it up to his neck. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

“Are you thirsty?”

What? Bewildered, Tony shakes his head. “I’m fine. If you want me to get out of your hair –”

“Not at all. Come here?”

Tony hesitates, but then follows the invitation of Loki’s outstretched arm and makes himself comfortable at Loki’s side, relaxing a little more when Loki wraps his arm around him and pulls him even closer. 

“Would you like me to read to you?” 

Tony huffs. He buries his face against Loki’s shoulder. Shit, he smells nice. “I’m not a kid.”

“Believe it or not, I’m aware of that. I just thought maybe you would enjoy listening to The Silmarillion more than reading it. I’m excellent at doing the voices.”

“How are you even real,” Tony mutters, muffled by Loki’s shirt. “Yeah, whatever, okay.”

Suddenly, the book is in Loki’s hand. He did not move to grab it from the table.

“Sparkly powers,” Tony says.

Loki shushes him.

16

“Do you have any games?”

“Games?”

“Yeah, you know, card games, board games, whatever. Stuff people do for fun. Or to scratch the irresistible urge to yell at family members about things that don’t actually matter.”

Loki finally looks up from his book, one eyebrow arched. “Is that why your family plays board games?”

Tony barks a laugh. “Honey, no, we’re not a board game family. So? Do you have anything like that or do I need to order something?”

Loki hums, thoughtful. “There’s a chess board in the living room.”

“Of course it’s chess.”

“If you don’t know how to play –”

“Oh, I can play.” Tony grins and leans closer, a hand on Loki’s thigh. “If I win, I get another kiss.”

“You’re not going to win,” Loki says, like he’s stating a fact. “And I would give you another kiss anyhow.”

“You’re just scared of losing against a puny little mortal.”

Loki can’t resist that, just like expected. Takes one to know one.

“Get the board, then,” he orders. 

Grinning, Tony gets up. “Where?”

“Next to the TV.”

“Ohh, is that that flat black thing you never use? Wasn’t sure you knew what it’s called.”

“I have a TV in my room, Anthony. I use it all the time.”

“Wait, you know what it’s called and how to turn it on? I’m impressed.”

Loki closes his book and sets it aside. “When I win, I’m not letting you come until next week.”

Tony laughs. “Sure thing, baby.”

He proceeds to beat Loki at chess. 

Twice. 

18

Kissing, Tony has decided, is his favorite thing ever. If it’s all he’s going to get, he’s more than content with it, because Loki is really fucking good at it.

By now, Tony has figured out some things Loki is into. He likes it when Tony is naked. He prefers staying dressed himself. He likes being in control of what happens when and how at which speed. He likes it when Tony asks before he does something. He doesn’t mind being touched in return as long as Tony’s hands stay above his belt. He let Tony kiss his neck once, but another time he pushed him away, so Tony has to collect more data on that one. It’s a little difficult, because Loki doesn’t really have any of the tells Tony knows from other people – he gets a little out of breath when they kiss for a while, yes, but he doesn’t get desperate. His eyes don’t get glassy with arousal. Except for some pleased hums, he doesn’t really make any noises. And, most of all, he doesn’t get hard.

At least not until now.

Tony has been sitting in Loki’s lap for god knows how long, naked, with Loki’s arms wrapped tightly around him. It’s the first time they are this close for longer than a few minutes, and Tony doesn’t want it to stop. He’s high on Loki’s kisses, the way Tony only has to melt into it and respond to what Loki wants to do to him. It’s easy. It keeps Tony from thinking about anything else. It also makes him pretty fucking hard, but thankfully Loki doesn’t keep him from rocking his hips to get some friction on his cock. Loki hasn’t touched him yet, but that’s kind of exciting – Tony likes the thrill of maybe tonight, waiting until Loki makes a decision, and he’s not going to admit that. At least not until Loki makes him. 

He gasps when Loki kisses his neck, sucking at a patch of skin that will probably be a bruise later, and grinds down on Loki’s lap. His hips stutter and he clings to Loki a little harder, surprised. He exhales roughly and moves his hips again, just to be sure, but no, yes, there’s definitely an answering hardness pressing up against him there, no doubt. 

“Loki,” he says, breath hitching. 

Loki makes a humming noise, lips wandering back up to Tony’s jaw. 

“You’re hard.”

“That happens,” Loki murmurs lightly, tongue flicking against Tony’s skin. Tony has no idea why, but Loki has some sort of thing for licking him, and it’s a little disgusting, but Tony is happy to let him do it as long as Loki keeps kissing him before and after and, well, all the time, preferably. 

“It hasn’t before,” Tony says. 

“You’ve been rubbing against me for the better part of the last hour, pet. My body is, in fact, fully functional.” Loki’s hand strokes down Tony’s spine, the touch so light that Tony shivers. “Just ignore it. I usually do.”

“But I can –”

“No,” Loki says. “No need, thank you.”

He kisses Tony again, which keeps Tony from thinking for a while, but his brain comes back online when Loki pulls back to let Tony breathe. Tony is still dizzy. He leans in to kiss Loki’s jaw, then moves to Loki’s neck, giddy when Loki doesn’t stop him. More data! Tony wriggles until he can get his hand between their bodies and stroke down Loki’s chest, meaning to cup him through his pants, but –

“Anthony,” Loki says, smooth and quiet and cold. “I said no. Try that again and you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Because Tony has no mentionable self-preservation instinct, that makes his cock throb. “That a promise?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” Tony squirms in Loki’s lap. “I’ll behave.”

Loki narrows his eyes, but lets go of Tony’s hand. 

Tony grins and leans closer, grasping Loki’s shirt instead. “May I have another kiss, at least?”

Loki huffs softly. His hand is gentle on the back of Tony’s neck, guiding him into the kiss Tony asked for. Tony falls back into it easily enough, but he’s never been good at resisting temptation. Or doing what he’s told. 

When he reaches for Loki’s crotch a third time, Loki breaks the kiss at once. His hand is tight around Tony’s wrist, not painful, but getting there.

“Get off,” Loki says. 

Tony pouts. “Loki, come on. It’s fine if you’re not into it like me, but you’re –”

“I won’t say it again.”

The tone makes Tony feel like maybe this was a bad idea. He pulls back to look at Loki properly, and Loki – oh, yeah, he’s pissed. Tony has seen him displeased before, sure, but this feels worse. 

The silence is too thick. Tony slowly climbs out of Loki’s lap to sit down next to him instead. “Punishment?”

“Yes,” Loki says, standing up. 

“Do I have to stare at a wall? I don’t want to stare at any walls.”

The look in Loki’s eyes loses a bit of its sharpness. “Put your underwear back on.”

Tony picks up his boxers from the ground and puts them on. He sits down again, keeping a close eye on Loki who has made his way to his desk. He bends down to open a drawer at the bottom. He closes it again with a thud. Tony’s chest is too tight. 

Loki comes back to the sofa, holding something that Tony at first thinks is an honest to god branch from outside. It’s not, though. It’s black and long and thin, with a thicker handle on one side. A cane, clearly made for this exact purpose. 

“You keep stuff like that in your desk?” Tony asks weakly. 

Loki doesn’t smile. He comes to stand in front of Tony, holding the cane with both hands. It doesn’t look all too bendy. “This is the point where you say ‘yellow’.”

Surprised, Tony looks away from the cane and at Loki’s face. “Is it?”

“At the very least,” Loki says, patient. “This can’t be compared to some light face slaps, darling.”

The return of the pet name makes breathing a little easier. Tony connects the dots. “You – my feet?”

“Yes. I made you a promise, and I would like to keep it. But if this is too much, I can come up with something else.”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just –”

“This is not about me being uncomfortable,” Loki interrupts. “This is about you pushing past a direct order as well as my boundaries. Do you want me to let that slide?”

Tony opens his mouth. Then closes it again. The honest answer scares him, but it slips out, anyway. “No.”

Loki nods and glances at the cane. “I have done this before, and I know how to use my strength. I won’t break the skin and of course there will be no lasting damage, but it will hurt. It may take a few days to heal.”

Tony swallows around the lump in his throat. “Do you get off on that?”

“I don’t get off on anything, Anthony. I can’t possibly make this any clearer. Do you need some time to decide?”

Tony shakes his head. He’s fine. He’s okay. No, he’s not lying, he’s – kind of calm, actually. He knows he fucked up, but they could just as well talk it out and call it a day, and instead – He can’t stop staring at the cane in Loki’s hands. Yes, that will hurt. Yes, this is insane. 

“Anthony?”

Tony wants it. 

“Green.”

Chapter Text

18

“Lie down on your stomach. Your feet here, over the armrest.”

Tony tries to keep breathing evenly. He nods and does as he’s told, lying down so that the arches of his feet are resting on the armrest of the sofa. He pillows his head on his arms because he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands. Loki waits until he’s settled, then touches his ankles, adjusting the position so that Tony’s feet are a little further apart. His thumb rubs soothing circles against Tony’s skin. 

“If you say ‘red’, everything stops,” Loki reminds him, voice steady. “If you can’t speak, hit the sofa three times. Do you understand?”

Tony groans and lets his forehead drop onto his arms. “You don’t need to talk to me like I’m stupid, of course I understand. Just get it over with.”

The nail of Loki’s thumb digs into Tony’s skin. “If I ask you a question, I expect a simple yes or no. Apart from that, be quiet unless I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?”

Tony grits his teeth. “Yes, Loki.”

“Better,” Loki says, still icy. “Let’s try ten each, shall we? You will count and try your best to hold still – if you don’t manage, return to this position. Clear?”

“Yes, Loki.”

“Good.”

Loki runs a hand over the soles of Tony’s feet, the touch almost clinical. Tony’s face burns, something between frustration and shame boiling in his chest. He’s glad that Loki made him put his shorts back on, though. He already feels vulnerable enough as it is – on his stomach with most of his body served on a silver platter, Loki with that damn cane behind him. Tony’s scared. Not of the pain, he can handle that, just – he’s not sure if he can handle everything else. 

Tony hears Loki take a step away from the sofa. Tony clenches his teeth and holds his breath, staring blindly at his own arms. 

“Ready?” Loki asks. 

“Yes, Loki.”

Loki doesn’t waste any time. Tony hears the whirring of the cane in the half second before it hits the sole of his left foot right in the middle. The sharp sting makes Tony’s whole body jerk, eyes wide. 

“Son of a bitch –”

“Say that again and I’ll add five strikes.”

“Fuck,” Tony says through gritted teeth, flexing his foot. The pain has already faded, now the skin just tingles. 

“Color?” Loki asks. 

Tony kind of wants to throttle him. And still the knot in his chest starts to resolve; the reminder that he can stop this anytime he wants helps. He lets out a breath, forcing himself to relax. 

“Green.”

“Back into position, then. Count the next one or I’ll start again.”

Tony moves his feet back to where Loki put them earlier. A few seconds later, there’s that whirring noise again. The pain sears through his left foot, this time. Now that he was prepared, only his left leg twitches slightly, apart from that he doesn’t move. 

“Two,” he says, voice shaking just a little.

Loki doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t let Tony wait, either. The cane comes down again, a little lower than before. Tony clenches his jaw.

“Three.”

Number four makes pain shoots up Tony’s spine, and he can’t swallow the gasp in time. He’s dizzy. His voice doesn’t want to work for a few seconds.  “Four.”

“Breathe,” Loki orders. His hand returns to Tony’s foot, thumb rubbing over the sole. The skin burns where the cane hit it, and Loki’s touch doesn’t exactly soothe the pain, but the contact is still a relief after the sting of the cane. “In through your nose, five seconds. Out through your mouth.”

Tony presses his lips together and obeys, counting silently while he breathes in through his nose. He lets the air out through his mouth, some of the tension leaving his body. 

“Again,” Loki says.

Tony breathes again. It helps against the dizziness, but it doesn’t get rid of the tears in his eyes. He already knows they will spill over eventually, and that knowledge only makes it worse. There are way too many emotions in his chest, suddenly, a pressure he doesn’t know how to relieve. He almost wants more of the cane – the strikes themselves are easier to handle than the in-between. 

“I’m fine,” he says, strained. 

He’s desperate for something – a good boy, maybe, or well done, darling, but Loki doesn’t say anything. He takes his hand away after giving Tony’s ankle a last gentle squeeze. 

The cane whirrs through the air again.Tony needs to move, this time. He sucks in a breath and props himself up on his elbows, digging his fingers into the sofa. The worst pain subsides, but leaves a burning heat behind. It adds to the pressure in his abdomen.

“Five.”

Six makes him flinch. Seven hits a spot Loki already hit before; his vision blurs. Eight has him letting out the first noise that’s not just a gasp or an audible breath; it pulls a whine from his throat, brief and wet. Nine makes him bite down on his tongue so that he doesn’t make that noise again. Ten, finally, makes him cry. 

“Hold still,” Loki says. His voice has edges that it didn’t have before; it makes Tony feel like he’ll cut himself on it.

He draws in a shaky breath and wipes his face, but it’s no use. He didn’t even notice that he’s been moving, curling his toes, arching his back, trying to find a place the pain can go without splitting him apart. 

He gets back into position. Breathes, and shivers, and waits. The pain is clouding his head, making it impossible to think about anything except the sting of it. Tony makes it through eleven and twelve and thirteen trembling but silent. Everything is sharp and crisp, now, too much, not enough. Number fourteen hurts so much that it doesn’t, anymore, it just adds to the pressure that’s building and building with nowhere to go. He’s shaking, panting, and hisses when the cane comes down again, it’s too much, it’s too much. 

“Fifteen,” he says, tongue too thick for his mouth; he’s going to crack, he’s going to –

Sixteen makes him come.

He sobs into the sofa, tension snapping low in his stomach, hips jerking forward. It doesn’t feel good, it feels like everything at once. There’s a ringing in his ears when it’s over. He’s breathing much too fast, tears running down his face. 

“Well,” Loki says, running the tip of the cane over Tony’s burning skin. “I should add two more for that lack of self control.”

Tony breaks. His breaths turn into sobs, he’s shaking all over, and he doesn’t want any of that but he can‘t stop it now that it‘s happening and for a few seconds, everything is terrible, but then Loki touches him. The cane is gone, Tony has no idea where Loki put it and doesn‘t care; it‘s just Loki‘s hands on his back. Loki‘s hands all but dragging him off the sofa, careful, somehow managing not to jar Tony‘s feet. 

Tony curls up in Loki‘s lap, sobs still tearing through his chest, clinging to Loki‘s shirt. Loki holds him tight and rocks him slightly back and forth. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Tony says, barely intelligible between his sobs. “I didn’t, I –”

“Shh.” Loki strokes Tony’s back, soothing. “I know. It’s alright, it happens. You did very well, my darling. I couldn’t be prouder.”

Tony shudders and hides his face in Loki’s shirt. It takes a while until he stops crying, but Loki doesn’t rush him. He just strokes his back and pets his hair. He only speaks again when Tony’s breaths finally become even and quiet. 

“Better?”

Tony doesn’t want to move. “Dunno.”

“Let me make a suggestion, then. I’ll bring you upstairs and look after your feet, and then I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep. Would you like that?”

Tony likes the part where Loki stays the most. He swallows and nods, still not pulling away. “Yeah, okay.”

“Good boy.”

That almost makes Tony cry again. Fuck, he’s a disaster. Thankfully, Loki doesn’t make him move, let alone look at him. He somehow gets his feet under himself and stands up with Tony in his arms. Tony lets out a surprised sound and wraps his arms around Loki’s neck. 

“I’m not going to drop you,” Loki promises, adjusting his grip without even jostling Tony much. 

Tony just grunts. He’s determined to pretend that Loki’s shirt is the only thing that exists at the moment; he’ll just bury his face in it and be done with the world. He can hear Loki’s heartbeat, steady, a little fast. 

Loki carries him upstairs and pushes the door to Tony’s bedroom open with his foot. 

“Careful,” he says, setting Tony down on the bed. “Mind your feet.”

Tony sits down on top of the covers, exhausted, and winces when the sore soles of his feet brush against the blanket. Fuck, that really hurts. He doesn’t even want to know what it looks like. 

The mattress dips back to him as Loki kneels on it. He tugs at the waistband of Tony’s boxer shorts. “Would you like to take these off, pet?”

They’re sticky and disgusting, so. Tony nods. A second later, there’s an odd tingling feeling, then his shorts are gone. Sparkly powers. Tony is too tired to care. 

“Here.” Loki lifts a glass of water to Tony’s lips. “Drink, please.”

Tony wrinkles his nose and takes the glass from him, emptying it in a few big gulps.

“More?”

Tony shakes his head and hands the glass back. Loki puts it on the nightstand. 

“Lie down, darling. On your stomach.”

For the first time, Tony looks at Loki’s face. He doesn’t know what he expects – annoyance, probably, or some lingering anger, but he doesn’t find anything like that. It’s the opposite, really.

Tony tries to get his tongue to work and manages after a second or two. “Don’t – I don’t want more. Not now.”

“No, of course not,” Loki says at once, voice warm. “I just want to put a salve on your feet. It will cool them down.”

Oh. Tony gives Loki a last wary look, but then he lies down on his stomach, trying not to touch anything with his feet in the process. 

“I’ll be careful,” Loki says. “Hold still, please.”

A moment later, something slick and cool touches Tony’s foot. He tenses up, but then he realizes that it actually helps a lot. 

“Alright?” Loki asks. 

Tony hums his agreement and rests his head on his arms. God, he just wants to sleep. Loki spreads the salve over the soles of Tony’s feet with gentle fingers. The pain eases – not completely, but enough.

“Do you need anything else?” Loki says, putting something else on the nightstand by the sound of it. Tony doesn’t bother turning his head to check. 

He shakes his head, but then a thought flits through his mind. He looks at Loki, who is sitting on the edge of the bed, still within reach. His voice cracks. “You said you’d stay.”

For a second, he’s scared that Loki will roll his eyes and leave, but Loki does no such thing. Instead, he pushes back the covers and lies down next to Tony. He pulls Tony close until he is practically laying on Loki’s chest. 

“Comfortable?” Loki asks, tugging at the blanket until it covers Tony’s shoulders. 

Tony nods against Loki’s chest. “Too heavy?”

“No. You don’t weigh much. How do you feel?”

Tony doesn’t reply for a long moment. He listens to Loki’s heartbeat and thinks that, yeah, actually –

He snuggles closer and closes his eyes. “I’m okay.”

19

Tony’s bones feel heavy in that way you only get when you wake up after a full night of rest, the kind where you don’t even move in your sleep. His pillow is a little too warm, and he thinks that if he just keeps his eyes closed he can get away with another hour or two. 

Then he realizes that his pillow is moving. It’s also playing with his hair for some reason. Since he thinks that’s rather weird, he opens his eyes and lifts his head. 

He finds himself staring right at Loki’s face. 

“Good morning,” Loki says. He looks sleepy, too, and his hair is a lot messier than usual. He’s still wearing the same clothes as the evening before.

“Hi,” Tony says blankly. He stares at Loki for a moment longer. “Have I been lying on top of you all night?”

“You have, yes. And you may keep doing so, if you like. I don’t mind.”

Tony can’t hold Loki’s gaze. He moves to roll off of Loki and immediately hisses when his feet touch the sheets. “Fucking hell.”

Loki pushes the blanket out of the way, keeping Tony from getting tangled up on it. Tony sits up carefully and grabs one of his ankles to lift up his feet. The sole is covered in welts, swollen and red, but Loki kept his promise – he didn’t break the skin. It still burns a hell of a lot, though. 

Tony touches one of the welts, pressing a fingertip into it even though it hurts like a bitch. 

Loki reaches for the nightstand and picks up a tin. Tony watches him open it and then move closer to Tony again, expression soft. 

“May I?”

Tony swallows and nods. Loki dips two fingers into the salve and rubs it over the soles of Tony’s feet, just like he did the night before. He does it so carefully that Tony can’t watch; he stares at a spot on the wall instead. 

“You will be fine,” Loki says quietly. “Today and probably tomorrow will be unpleasant, but then it will heal quickly.”

“Are you still pissed?”

Loki is quiet for a second too long. Tony looks at him again and sees the surprise on Loki’s face, and suddenly he doesn‘t know if he wants to hear the answer. 

“Forget it, it’s fine. Stupid question.”

Loki shakes his head and puts the tin aside. “I wasn’t angry with you in the first place, Anthony. Displeased, yes, but not truly angry. If I had been, I wouldn’t have let myself hurt you.“

Tony isn’t sure if he gets that. He stares at Loki for a few long seconds, trying to make sense of the utter mess in his brain. 

“Something like this should never come from a place of anger,” Loki adds, glancing at Tony’s feet. “It was correction, nothing more.” He looks at Tony, apparently waiting for something, and after a moment, understanding darkens his eyes. “I didn’t make that clear enough.”

“No, I – so you’re not pissed?”

Loki doesn’t laugh. He just leans in to kiss Tony’s temple, his hand warm on the other side of Tony’s face. “No. It’s in your nature to push, and given that I’m much the same, I can hardly blame you for that.”

“It was an asshole move,” Tony says faintly. “I don’t usually – shit. I just wanted to –”

He stops, because he doesn‘t know what he wanted. To make Loki feel good, maybe. Make it worth his time. When he‘s sleeping with someone, getting them off is the next logical step – except with Loki, it isn‘t, and Tony has no idea what he‘s supposed to do instead. 

“Yes?” Loki prompts.

Tony shrugs, not looking at him. “Make you feel good, I guess.”

“I understand,” Loki says softly. “But I told you no, very clearly. I expect you to respect that in the future.”

“Yeah, I – yes. Sorry.”

“No need. It’s over and dealt with. And may I just say –” Loki lets out a breath and puts his hands on Tony’s sides to pull him closer, kissing his cheek again. “You were exquisite.”

Tony is so stunned that he’s not even flustered. “I was what.”

“You heard me.” Loki nuzzles Tony’s cheek like he’s some kind of overgrown cat. “You were perfect. Thank you.”

“I came in my pants because you hit me with a cane,” Tony says flatly. “And I ugly cried on you for what, half an hour?” He pokes Loki in the chest. “There’s still dried snot everywhere.”

Loki glances down at his shirt like he only realizes that now. He doesn’t seem to care much either way. “How do you feel now?”

“What?”

Loki gives him a dry look. “How do you feel?”

“I –” Tony wants to stay that he feels like he came in his pants because Loki hit him with a cane, so obviously he’s a pathetic wreck and the world is ending, but. 

Huh. 

“Well,” he says slowly. “My feet hurt.”

“Yes. And?”

“And –” And he slept better than he has in years. And Loki isn’t pissed. And Tony does not feel bad. It’s like someone lifted an entire piano off his shoulders, he feels so light. He frowns. “I – don’t know.”

Loki hums. He runs a hand through Tony’s hair, making a pleased shiver travel over Tony’s skin. “I think you were in desperate need of a good cry.”

Right. Tony clears his throat and disentangles himself from Loki to get out of bed.

“What are you doing?” Loki asks.

“I need to piss. What, do you want to watch? ”

“No, thank you. Don’t –”

“Oh, fucking – shit. God.”

Loki sighs and follows Tony to the other side of the bed, where Tony had the most terrible idea ever, read: stand on his feet. He keeps one hand on the mattress and grits his teeth until the worst pain passes. 

“I hate you,” he presses out. “So much.”

Loki stands up next to him and carefully cups his face, making him look at him, eyes searching Tony’s face. “Do you really?”

For a second, Tony is scared he’ll fall apart again, but he doesn’t. He just wants to get back in bed and cuddle Loki to death. “No. I’m fine, I’ve had worse, give me a moment. Then –”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Loki says, hooks one arm under Tony’s knees, and lifts him up. 

Tony glares, but doesn’t struggle. “You have to stop carrying me bridal style. It’s not going to be like, a thing.”

“Of course, darling.”

“Am I making this clear enough? I don’t feel like I’m making this clear enough.”

“Just today,” Loki says softly. “Indulge me.”

Tony huffs. “Fine.”

“And maybe tomorrow.”

“Ugh.”

Tony starts to wiggle as soon as they are in the bathroom. “I can manage the rest, thanks.”

Loki sets him down carefully. “I should go and change. Do call when you’re finished. I’ll put some clothes in front of the door.”

“Okay.”

Loki leaves him alone. Tony takes a piss and brushes his teeth. He’d like to take a shower, but he really doesn’t want to be on his feet any longer than necessary, so he decides not to give a damn. When he’s done, he limps to the door and opens it. Loki isn’t in the bedroom anymore, but like he promised, there are clothes waiting for Tony on the ground. A t-shirt, Tony’s old MIT hoodie, and a pair of boxer shorts. Apparently, Loki thinks pants are vastly overrated. 

Tony could go and get some sweatpants from the closet, but he doesn’t. 

*

Tony doesn’t let Loki carry him everywhere. Just downstairs to the kitchen. And then to the library. He makes it to the small bathroom downstairs all on his own after a few hours, just to prove that it’s not a thing. 

When he limps back into the library, Loki is waiting and looking like the embodiment of I told you so. 

“I’m fine,” Tony says, letting himself drop down next to Loki. Wincing, he puts his feet on the sofa table and vows to hold still for an hour or two. It’s fine as long as he doesn’t move them, but putting any weight on them is a bad idea. 

Loki rolls his eyes and grabs the salve he’s been carrying around all day to put more of it on Tony’s feet. It makes Tony’s life better instantly. 

“What’s in that, anyway?” Tony asks, making grabby hands. 

Loki gives him the tin, amused. “Nothing that grows on Earth.”

“Alien medicine? You’ve been giving me alien medicine?” Tony sniffs at the salve, frowning. “Smells a bit like mint. Purely theoretical question, how mad would you be if I stole this?”

“You can take it with you when you leave. I have more.”

When you leave. Right. Tony manages a crooked grin. “Hoarding the stuff for all your hook-ups, huh?”

“I don’t have ‘hook-ups.’”

“So you keep a cane in your desk because it helps you with paperwork?”

Loki’s mouth twitches. “Well.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I used to,” Loki says. “But in the last decade or two, I didn’t have the time. The cane was a little dusty.”

Ha. Tony’s mood brightens. At least he was interesting enough to make Loki put an end to his dry spell. “So you used to have lots of people coming here to – whatever it is we’re doing?”

“Of course. At least five every day. “

Since he knows Loki at least a little by now, he doesn’t need to do a double take to figure out that Loki is messing with him. “Just five? In my prime, I managed seven on a bad day.”

“In your prime?” Loki’s eyebrows wander up. “You’re twenty-two.”

“I was fourteen when I went to college. I started young.”

Loki doesn’t return Tony’s grin. “I see.”

“I’m joking,” Tony says, confused by Loki’s frown. “It was – two. Or three, tops.”

“On a bad day?”

“Does it matter?” Tony isn’t going to let anyone slutshame him, not even a god. He turns toward Loki, putting his elbow on the armrest. Moving his feet makes him wince. “I bet you could have seven if you wanted to. People are probably standing in line for the chance to fuck a god.”

Loki makes a face. Right. 

“Yeah, I know,” Tony hurries to say. “But – hell, they probably stand in line for the shit you’re into, too.”

“What I am into is not common knowledge,” Loki deadpans. “And I’m not fond of people offering themselves to me just because they have grand ideas about what my power can gain them.”

That… hits a little too close to home. Tony looks away, nodding, and plucks a lint from the backrest of the sofa. “Happens a lot, huh.”

“Unfortunately, yes. It always takes some time until they realize that I’m not at all interested in sleeping with them.”

“But you’re interested in –” Tony glances at the desk. “Canes.”

“Including, but not limited to, yes,” Loki says, grinning. He pauses. “Where I’m from, my preferences are less acceptable, so I was pleased when I found out that it’s not completely uncommon here. I’m good at telling when someone might be interested, so I had a few companions over the years.”

Companions. Tony wonders if that’s what he is, too, or if he’s just – well. The yearly sacrifice. He pushes the thought away. 

“Could you tell I was interested?”

“Yes,” Loki says. No hesitation. “But to be fair, you got hard from kneeling at my feet and eating from my hands. It wasn’t that much of a mental leap.”

Tony blushes and decides that they’re not talking about this anymore. “Are you telling me you gods are a bunch of prudes who don’t like BDSM?”

If Loki is surprised or confused by the change of topic, it doesn’t show. “They don’t like people who are different. That’s all.”

“What’s it like up there?”

“In Asgard?”

Tony nods. Loki looks at him for a few long seconds, then he rolls his eyes and leans his head back against the sofa. 

“Golden, round and flat. You would adore the technology and despise the inhabitants.” He moves his hand blindly and lets it settle on the backrest right behind Tony’s head, playing with his hair. “I miss the boats, and the library. And my mother.”

The last three words are quiet, an admission that makes Tony feel like he just heard something rare. He leans into Loki’s touch, looking at him. “The boats?”

Loki smiles. “Flying boats, yes. The main means of transport within the capital.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Not at all, no.” Loki turns his head to meet Tony’s eyes. “I’ll spend all day explaining them to you, won’t I?”

Seems like he knows Tony pretty well already, too. 

*

“I just want to say, for the record, that I feel incredibly used right now. Worst betrayal I’ve ever experienced, hands down. Shame on you.”

“You never asked about my cooking skills,” Loki says, unbothered, and adds some spices to the sauce. Doubtlessly the right amount of the right spices, too. 

“Why would I ask about your fucking cooking skills? You wanted me to cook for you, so I thought your options were, you know, limited.”

Loki’s hand stops moving. He looks over his shoulder like Tony just said the insanest thing he’s heard all year. Or maybe all day, knowing it’s the two of them. “Anthony, I don’t want you to cook for me because I wouldn’t be able to feed myself otherwise.”

“Yeah, Mr. Ramsay, I’m starting to get that.” From his place on the kitchen island, Tony gestures at Loki and the stove. “You’ve been letting me serve you the worst shit ever even though we could’ve had this the whole time?”

Grinning, Loki turns back to the pot. “Yes.”

Tony looks around for something to throw at Loki’s back, but unfortunately, there’s nothing within reach. “This is the point where you tell me my cooking’s great, actually, thanks. Asshole.”

“Your cooking is a mess,” Loki says, because he’s ruthless. “It would be considerably less of a mess if you put in a little more effort. Still, you’ve already gotten better, and if I can watch you improve, I don’t mind eating undercooked pasta and sour risotto now and then.”

“So you won’t be the one cooking from now on?”

“No. Today is an exception.”

Glaring, Tony jumps off the counter. His feet do not approve, but he ignores them and limps to the fridge. 

“Anthony –”

“I’m fine,” Tony cuts him off, knowing what Loki wants to say. “Walking the few steps won’t kill me.”

Loki stirs the pasta and turns down the stove a little, looking only slightly put out. “You could have asked.”

Tony rolls his eyes and opens the fridge. After a moment of consideration, he grabs a bottle of orange juice. “It’s already a lot better than this morning, thanks to that wonder salve of yours. Stop freaking out.”

Loki ignores that. 

Tony pauses. “Wait, are you freaking out? Second thoughts? The whole thing was your idea –”

“No,” Loki says, soothing. “Of course not. I enjoyed hurting you. But it’s good to have a reminder that I enjoy keeping you safe, too.”

“Good for you or me?”

“Both.”

Tony decides to ignore that, because it’s easier to focus on the rest. “If you enjoyed it, then. Does that mean –”

Loki looks at him, prompting him to continue with an arched brow. 

“You want to do it again?” Tony finishes lamely. “Or is it just, I don’t know. A punishment thing.”

“Are you asking me to hurt you again, darling?”

Tony takes a large gulp of orange juice straight from the bottle to keep his mouth from saying something stupid. He shrugs, not quite managing to hold Loki’s gaze, and shuffles back to the kitchen island to sit down on one of the bar stools. 

“Pain as punishment and pain for pleasure are different things,” Loki says. Tony can tell he’s smiling even though Loki doesn’t turn away from the stove. “Though it’s possible for them to overlap, as you might have noticed last night. I enjoy inflicting both.”

“Why?”

“Well.” Loki takes one of the pots from the stove and pours off the noodles. “It means someone puts themselves in my hands, willing to suffer for me. It’s quite the thrill. The power, of course, but it’s also very intimate, isn’t it?”

Tony’s never been the biggest fan of intimacy. He usually makes himself scarce as soon as someone starts some kind of lovey-dovey bullshit – Tony has heard all the stories, all the wide-eyed, blushing confessions, the I just think there’s really something between you and me and last night meant so much to me, when can I see you again? Stuff like that leaves Tony’s head again right after he hears it, because they never once mean it, anyway. People don’t fall for him, they fall for his name and bank account. And they make it all too obvious by suggesting the most expensive restaurant in the city for their next date. 

This, though? 

Last night plays in Tony’s mind on loop. Loki’s hand on his ankle, the cane whirring through the air. They barely even touched until the end, but it was intimate alright. Like the entire rest of the world had somehow vanished from existence. 

“Yes,” Tony says quietly. “I mean, I guess. Just…" 

“Yes?”

Tony shrugs and looks down at his hands, playing around with the cap of the bottle. “I didn’t think I’d get off on it.”

“There is nothing wrong with that. In fact, I find it incredibly charming.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“I mean it. Where would you like to eat?”

“The dining room’s fine,” Tony says, putting the bottle of orange juice on the counter. He holds out his hands. “Carry me.”

“I thought your feet were better.”

“If this is just for today, I’m gonna make the most of it. My feet hurt like a bitch and it’s your fault, so carry me.”

Loki wipes his hands on a kitchen towel and puts it aside before he comes over to lift Tony off the bar stool. “You’re a demanding little thing, do you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm.”

Loki’s pasta is delicious. Because of fucking course it is.

Chapter Text

20

God, his hair is a mess. 

Tony squints at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and runs a hand through the still damp, tousled strands – curls, almost, because it always does that unless he fights it into submission every morning. Which he hasn’t really bothered to do since he’s here. 

This isn’t the rich-and-hot-as-fuck-but-totally-chill-about-it look he usually goes for. It makes him look younger, and he has no idea if that’s a good thing in this situation. Then again, Loki is about fifty times older than Tony, anyway, so a somewhat cooler hairstyle can’t make that much a difference. 

Grimacing at himself, he reaches for the razor. Maybe his hair is a lost cause right now, but he can fix his stubble, at least. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, trying to find a position that’s a little more bearable. He should put that salve on them again once he’s done. 

He hears a knock when he’s half done with shaving. The sound makes him pause, because Loki only knocked at Tony’s door twice so far, and both times were when something had gone spectacularly wrong before. Tony’s mind starts to race, but comes to the conclusion that things are fine. Comparatively. He’s a bit pissed at himself for not taking Loki up on the offer to stay with him again the night before, but Loki didn’t seem offended, and Tony still got a few hours of sleep. When he was done tossing and turning and wondering what Loki was doing, at least. 

“Anthony?”

Loki’s voice is muffled by the distance and the bedroom door, but Tony thinks it sounds a little concerned. Tony rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, come in.” When he hears Loki open the door and enter the bedroom, he adds, “I’m in here.”

Loki doesn’t offer to come back later, he just nudges the bathroom door open all the way. Tony turns back to the mirror and runs the razor over his jaw. 

“You know, some people would’ve at least asked if I was dressed.”

“You told me to come in,” Loki says. He’s not looking at Tony’s face, instead he is staring openly at, well, everything else. “Even though you are not dressed.”

“I’m wearing a towel.”

“That doesn’t count as clothes, I think. How are your feet?”

“Still stinging, but it’s fine. I’ll live. Something you need? Because I’ve got another hour til breakfast.”

“I just wanted to see you.”

Tony snorts and keeps shaving, expecting Loki to say what he’s really here for. He just watches for a while, though, smiling. 

Then, suddenly, he asks, “Would you let me do that with a straight razor?”

Tony blinks at his reflection and then turns his head to stare at Loki. “What? Why?”

“Because I’d like to.”

The thought of Loki putting a blade anywhere near his neck pulls at something in Tony’s abdomen. He clears his throat. “If you want. I’m done for today, though, so.”

Loki grins. He comes into the room and stops right next to Tony, running his knuckles slowly down Tony’s spine. Tony ignores him and dries his face, but Loki gets a lot more difficult to ignore when he leans in and presses his lips to Tony’s cheek. The kiss makes Tony’s freshly shaven skin tingle. 

“You look lovely,” Loki says, voice low, fingers dipping even lower. “But I would prefer you without the towel.”

“Sorry to break it to you, but I can’t be naked all the time. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you made me run around without pants all day yesterday.”

“Oh, I didn’t make you do anything.” Loki’s smile brushes against Tony’s jaw. “You found the clothes I put out for you and accepted that they were all you would get. Like a good pet.”

Tony’s face goes crimson red. He can watch it happen in real time in the mirror. “Fuck off.”

Loki laughs. He kisses Tony’s cheek again. “Wear that hoodie again. Nothing else, for now.”

With that, he leaves the bathroom. 

Tony stares after him. “Asshole.”

“I heard that!”

Still in the bedroom, then. Shit. Tony glares at his own reflection. “Good! You were meant to!”

Fucking hell. 

Tony hesitates for a long, long time, so much that Loki must be wondering what Tony is even doing standing in the bathroom for so long. Finally, Tony just drops the towel on the ground and goes back to his bedroom naked, even if that means letting Loki see his erection. The fucker probably knows, anyway. 

Lok is sitting on the bed like it’s his. Which it is, since it’s his house and everything, but this is also very much Tony’s room and he likes the look of Loki on his bed a little too much, so he ignores him and marches to the chair by the window where he tossed that hoodie the night before. Like every good hoodie, it’s a little too big for him, but it still doesn’t do much to cover his ass. Which means that Loki probably wants to ogle Tony’s ass. And that’s a good thing, as far as Tony is concerned, even though he doesn’t really get it. 

“Do you want me to go commando all day?” he asks, pulling the hoodie down over his head. “Not that I mind, but I thought my fantastic ass would be wasted on you.”

“It is not,” Loki says, watching as Tony walks over to the bed and lets himself fall down next to Loki. 

“No?” Tony grins, stretching his arms above his head. “Like what you see, then?”

“Very much. Have you looked after your feet yet?”

“No. Told you, they’re fine.”

It only takes a second until Loki spots the salve on the nightstand. He goes to get it and sits down next to Tony again, reaching for his feet. Tony rolls his eyes, but lets him.

“You’d get along well with Rhodey. You’re both mother hens.”

“They do look better,” Loki says, ignoring him. “But I’m sure they still hurt.”

They do, but Tony’s used to it by now. He’s always been good at ignoring pain; he finished building Dum-E with two broken fingers. “It’s fine.”

Loki hums and runs his hands up Tony’s legs. They’re still somewhat sticky from the salve, making Tony scrunch up his nose. 

“Don’t get that stuff all over me, I just showered.”

Loki shushes him, moving his hands to Tony’s inner thighs. Tony squirms under the touch.

“I mean it. I’m gonna smell like I fell into a peppermint bush.”

“That would be better than your shampoo.”

“What’s wrong with my shampoo?”

“It smells odd.” Loki grabs Tony rather unceremoniously and moves him to the middle of the bed so he can lie down properly, head on the pillows. 

“Don’t manhandle me.”

“You like it when I manhandle you.”

“I don’t.”

Loki throws a pointed look at Tony’s hard cock. 

“That’s unrelated,” Tony says flatly. 

“Is it now.”

“Yeah, you know. Classic case of morning wood. Nothing to do with you.”

“Oh, I see. Then I suppose you don’t need me to do anything about it?”

“Shut up,” Tony tells him and reaches for Loki’s shirt to pull him into a kiss. Unfortunately, Loki doesn’t move, no matter how hard Loki pulls. “I’d like to issue a formal complaint.”

Loki laughs and lies down next to him, on his side so that he can wrap one arm around Tony’s middle. “About what?”

“About why the fuck are you so strong.”

“I’m terribly sorry.”

“Well, you should be. It’s not fair.”

“No, I suppose it’s not. And who will you complain to?”

“Uh, I don’t know. The authorities.”

“The authorities.”

Tony shoves at Loki’s stupid grinning face, even though he’s laughing himself. “Shut up and get off me, you’re too fucking heavy.”

Loki kisses him. Yeah, that’s better. So much better. Tony arches into it, opening his mouth for Loki’s tongue. Loki’s hand slips under the hoodie, fingers ghosting over Tony’s ribs. 

“Go on, then,” Loki says, and Tony is much too eager. 

That’s a problem, he thinks. He shouldn’t be getting used to certain things – like touching himself while Loki watches and tells him what to do. He’s not sure if that’s something he should just be okay with, but it’s hard to not be okay with it while Loki is snorting a rather ugly laugh because of a very bad masturbation-related joke Tony made. And, honestly, it’s so much fun that Tony can’t bring himself to be weirded out by it all. 

After he’s come and Loki has licked his fingers clean like the adorable freak he is, they don’t stand up. Instead, Loki wraps an arm around Tony’s middle and nuzzles his neck, and for a while, everything is warm and quiet. 

“You really are a cuddler,” Tony says softly, opening his eyes. “Like some kind of overgrown cat.”

“I don’t hear you complaining.”

Tony isn’t. He yawns. “What time is it?”

Loki sighs and moves, lifting his head to check his wrist watch. “Half past seven.”

That means Tony should get up and make breakfast. Then again, if Loki is the one pinning him to the bed, he can hardly blame Tony for not being on time, so Tony decides to take the risk. He’s too comfortable to move, anyway. 

“Who even wears a fucking wrist watch at home,” he says, closing his eyes agin. 

“I’d lose track of the time otherwise,” Loki says. “The way you measure time is so needlessly complicated.”

Tony has to grin. That sounds like Loki is just wearing the watch to make sure Tony sticks to all their time-related rules. That’s sweet. Kind of. 

22

Loki is in his room a lot. Tony knows he’ll see him when it’s time to eat, and he hopes that they will spend the evening together after dinner, but during the day, Tony is alone. 

He doesn’t go for a run. He’d like to, because it would give him something do, but he’s not allowed until his feet are completely healed. The welts are barely visible anymore, but Loki is a stubborn bitch. 

They don’t have lunch together. Loki already mentioned at breakfast that he will likely be busy, so Tony isn’t surprised when he doesn’t come downstairs. Tony eats two apples in the kitchen, thinking that probably counts as a meal. After that, he’s bored. 

He scrolls aimlessly on his phone for a while, then works on a bit of code on his laptop, but his thoughts keep straying. His hands itch. He wonders if he can get away with breaking the dishwasher on purpose just so he can fix it again, but that would definitely be breaking a rule. 

At half past three, Tony leaves his room. Just a few steps down the hallway, there is a hatch up in the ceiling. It’s the only door Tony hasn’t tried to open so far. He can’t reach it, though. In the hallway under the hatch, there’s a sideboard that looks like it hasn’t been opened in an eternity, so Tony tries his luck there. He does find the rod that matches the hatch in the lower drawer. Tony grins.

It takes some force, but Tony manages to open the hatch and pull down the ladder. It looks old as hell and creaks suspiciously when Tony climbs up. The air in the attic is stuffy, but at least there’s no smell of anything rotting up here. Seems like this really isn’t a murder cabin. 

“Hurray,” Tony mutters, pulling himself up into the attic.

It’s dark. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and turns on the flashlight, looking around. It’s a normal attic, really, packed full with boxes and things you don’t want to have around but also don’t want to throw away. Tony goes to explore, stepping on the few free spots on the ground. 

He opens some boxes. He finds a lot of books – no surprise there – that probably didn’t fit in the library anymore, and a rather impressive collection of records. There’s a gramophone that seems to be about a million years old. Tony blows the dust off of it and plays around with the needle, wondering if it’s broken or just abandoned in favor of something more modern. His dad used to have something similar in his study when Tony was a kid. Howard probably thought it made him look sophisticated. 

There are some clothes, nice, old-fashioned suits and shoes. Tony finds a backgammon board and puts it close to the hatch so that he can bring it downstairs later. He hoped he’d find something interesting and private, maybe a bunch of old diaries filled with Loki’s messy handwriting. No luck, though. At least there’s a lot of old tech, some of which makes Tony’s nerd heart beat a lot faster. Hell, there’s even an Atari 2600 in perfect condition with matching games. 

Tony gets hold of an empty box and puts everything he wants to take downstairs in it. When it’s full, he brings it to the hatch and puts the old gramophone and some records on top of it all. He squeezes the backgammon board under his arm to carry everything downstairs at once. 

In hindsight, this is probably where he went wrong. 

He can’t see shit, so he has to fumble for every next step of the ladder. It’s steep and narrow, and Tony is carrying too much stuff, and when he turns around laboriously to face the ladder, thinking he’ll improve his balance like that, the ladder makes an ominous cracking noise. Uh oh. Tony carefully takes the next step, and the wood breaks away under his foot. 

He doesn’t even have time to curse. His foot comes down heavily on the step below, but he loses his balance and topples backward, falling straight off the ladder. He crashes against something hard, causing pain to explode at the back of his head. The box and everything inside clatters to the ground, the gramophone makes a terrible noise. 

Grimacing, Tony just lies around where he is for a long while. Shit. His head is filled to the brim with white-hot pain. Everything spins around him, and his throat tightens with the sudden urge to puke. Slowly, he sits up. This makes matters worse. He feels the back of his head, wincing. His fingers come away bloody. He fell right onto the corner of the sideboard, like the fucking idiot he is. 

He sits there for a moment, trying to get his shit together. He’ll have to fix the ladder later. And the gramophone, probably. If it wasn’t broken before, it probably is now. 

He reaches up and grabs the edge of the sideboard to pull himself up. The spinning gets worse. He blinks against the dizziness, and after a moment, he’s okay. He looks at the mess he made. Shit. 

He takes a moment to wonder what the fuck he should do now. He feels like he’s going to pass out, which is not good. He should lie down somewhere. And make sure his head stops bleeding. He squints, trying to figure out what direction his room is in. The end of the hallway is closer. That means Loki’s room is closer. It’s a wonder he’s not here yet; Tony’s fall made a lot of noise.

Ah, fuck it.

Keeping a hand on the wall, he makes his way to Loki’s room. The door is closed, as usual, and Tony can’t hear anything. He knocks. 

“Loki?”

He thinks he hears some rustling. Hallelujah. Tony touches the back of his head again, ignoring the throbbing pain. He scowls at his hand when he sees that, yup, still bleeding. There are steps on the other side of the door, and a second later, Loki opens it.

“Hi,” Tony says, swallowing around the tightness in his throat. “I, uh. Broke your ladder.”

Loki stares at him. 

“I have a concussion,” Tony announces, showing Loki his bloody hand. “Can I puke in your toilet?”

Loki blinks. Tony squints at him, realizing that Loki is wearing a fucking normal t-shirt for once, and honest-to-god checkered pyjama pants.

“Were you asleep?”

Loki chooses that moment to unfreeze. “Gods. You need to sit down. Here, let me –”

He moves to pick Tony up, but Tony pushes his hands away. “No, nope, don’t. No jostling, or I won’t make it to your toilet.”

Loki scowls. He wraps an arm around Tony, anyway, and helps him walk to his en-suite. Tony is willing to let himself be dragged, because he really is fucking dizzy. Loki kicks the door to his bathroom open. He makes Tony sit on the edge of the bathtub. Tony is fine with that, as long as he doesn’t have to move anymore. He closes his eyes for a second. The urge to puke is fading, but he doesn’t doubt that it will show up again in a bit. It usually does. 

“What happened?” Loki asks. His fingers are gentle in Tony’s hair as he bends over him to examine the injury. 

“I hit my head,” Tony explains, pointlessly. He thinks it’s pretty obvious that he hit his head. “S’fine. I have concussions all the time.”

“Were you unconscious?”

Tony shakes his head, which, bad idea. Ugh. 

Loki stops looking at the back of Tony’s head and starts looking at his face again. “Dizzy? Can you see clearly?”

“Yeah. Sorta.”

Loki stares at him for a second, lips pressed together. Then he puts one hand on Tony’s forehead and the other one right on the injury, making Tony hiss.

“Shh, I know. Hold still. It will only take a moment.”

Tony wants to ask what the fuck Loki is doing, but then even more pain lights up in his head, making him hold onto the edge of the bathtub for dear life. 

And then it fades.

He blinks. The back of his head throbs once more, then it stops completely. Loki carefully takes his hands away. One of them is red from Tony’s blood. Tony stares up at him, wide-eyed, and touches the back of his hand. There’s still a dull ache when he presses his fingers against his skull, but the wound is gone. Just like the nausea and the dizziness.

“What the fuck,” he says. 

“Better?” Loki asks, concerned. He’s pale.

“Uh. Yeah.”

Loki nods and walks over to the sink. He takes a toothbrush out of a glass and rinses the glass once, twice, before he fills it with water. He brings it to Tony. 

“Drink.”

Tony does. 

“Stay here,” Loki says, in his this is an order and you’ll regret it if you disobey voice. “You may still be dizzy. I’ll get you a new shirt.”

There’s probably blood on his shirt. Ew. “Okay.”

Loki touches the side of Tony’s face one last time before he leaves the room. Or tries to, anyway. He sways slightly, and reaches out to steady himself with one hand on the doorframe. 

“You okay?” Tony asks, unsure if he’s really seeing what he’s seeing. 

“I’m fine,” Loki says, and even though his tone is soothing, his voice is tight. 

Tony thinks he’s lying. That proves to be correct when Loki takes one, then two steps into the bedroom and promptly collapses like someone cut his strings. 

Tony stares at what little he can see of Loki from his place on the bathtub. Loki’s legs don’t move. 

“Uh. Lokes?”

No reply. 

Fuck. 

Chapter Text

22

“Fine, my ass,” Tony hisses, dropping to his knees next to Loki. He pats his cheek. “Hey. Hey.”

Loki’s eyelids flutter. Thank fuck. 

“Loki, it’s me. Come on. Wake up right this second or I’ll be so fucking pissed.”

Loki opens his eyes properly, but they are glassy and unfocused. His skin is a pale gray color that Tony doesn’t like one bit. 

“Loki?”

Loki’s gaze clears somewhat. “Anthony?”

“Yes, hi. Don’t do that again.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay?”

“Yeah, honey, you can spank me about it later. You okay? Can you sit up?”

“I’m fine,” Loki says – snaps, really – and pushes Tony’s hands away. 

“So sorry for not believing you right now. What the hell was that?”

“I used too much magic,” Loki says through gritted teeth and sits up. Impressively, he goes even paler. When Tony tries to help him, he sends a piercing glare at him. “Don’t.”

“Oh, come on, let me –”

He tries to touch Loki again. This time, Loki’s fingers wrap around his wrist like a vice. 

“Don’t.”

He pushes Tony’s hand away. Tony is not having it. 

“No, fuck that. What’s going on? Why did you help me if you knew –”

“It’s none of your business.” Loki pushes himself onto his feet. He sways again. “Leave it.”

Tony grabs Loki’s arm to steady him. “No. Has this happened before? I can’t help if I don’t know –”

“You cannot help,” Loki says, and his voice stings. His lips curl into a snarl, and he takes hold of Tony’s wrist again to free himself from his grip, but this time, he doesn’t let go. “What do you think is going on? Have you ever even considered how this works?”

Tony can’t help it, he tries to take a step back. For something at the far end of his brain, a step back isn’t enough. That something wants to run. 

Loki doesn’t let him move away. 

“Loki?”

“Can you imagine what it takes to keep all those souls safe and content? Do you think it’s easy?”

Something is wrong. It’s the same thing Tony felt when he saw Loki for the first time, what made his chest tighten with fear – it’s the reason the lamps flicker and Loki’s eyes seem greener than they should be, sometimes. 

“Your city,” Loki spits the word, “has been eating away at me for a hundred years. Salted earth and poisoned rain, who do you think keeps all that away from you? The sky is still clear in New York, is it not?”

It’s Loki’s voice and not his voice, Loki’s body and not his body. He’s distorting, growing into something larger. The room is dark. Tony’s ears are ringing. 

“Loki –”

“It takes everything I have. The restrictions of this body are ruining me and still I am stuck. And still more and more people come, greedy for everything they could have had if they hadn’t destroyed it all. Your own planet wants to kill you, and on most days I am tempted to let it.”

“Stop! Let go, I –”

The grip on his wrist only tightens, cold as ice. “Oh, but you wanted to understand, didn’t you? You –”

“Red.”

Silence. It lasts a few seconds, stretching out, while Tony stares at a face he doesn’t know – too bright eyes, too many teeth. But then Loki shrinks back into himself, tall and pale as usual, eyes wide and bloodshot. His grip loosens. 

Tony pulls his hand free as soon as he can. He presses it against his chest. The skin is already bruising. 

“Forgive me,” Loki says. His voice is back to normal, just a little rough. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You did,” Tony says. He’s not sure what he means – that Loki did mean to or that he manages. He feels like both are true. 

Loki lets out a breath. He takes a step away from Tony. “I lost control. It won’t happen again.”

Tony’s ears finally stop ringing. His gaze flickers around the room, but everything is like it was before. No darkness or flickering lights. “Uh huh.”

“You can go,” Loki says. “I won’t come after you.”

That’s what a wolf would say, too, Tony thinks. He rubs his aching wrist. “Can you walk?”

Loki stares. “I’m sorry?”

“Can you walk, dipshit. You passed out like five minutes ago, and I doubt that eldritch shit did anything to help. You need to sit down.”

Loki blinks slowly. “I can walk.”

He’s a liar. That much is clear when he takes a step toward the bed and immediately starts swaying again. 

Tony narrows his eyes. “Can I touch you or are you gonna freak out again?”

“You can touch me.”

“Sure?”

“Yes.”

Tony touches him, and nothing happens. He wraps an arm around Loki and helps him to the bed. Under his hand, Loki’s side feels just like always, warm and alive and normal.

“Hey, Loki?”

“Yes?”

“What the fuck.”

*

Loki seems to feel better after a few minutes of lying on his back on the bed without doing anything at all. Tony brought him water and went down to the kitchen to make fucking sandwiches, like everything is normal and fine. Loki needs to eat, though, or he’ll just keel over again. 

Loki eats in silence. One of his hands is still stained red from Tony’s blood, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Kind of disgusting, but Tony thinks this may not be the right moment to point it out. He sits on the edge of Loki’s bed with more than enough space between them. It’s difficult to be scared of Loki while he’s sporting bed head and those ridiculous Pyjama pants, but well. He looked exactly like this earlier, too. Until he didn’t. 

“You can ask,” Loki says finally. 

Tony doesn’t need to be told twice. “Yeah, what the fuck was that?”

“I lost control,” Loki says, again. 

“Yes, you said that. Thing is, when I lose control I smash some plates or something. I don’t do – whatever the hell that was.”

“I am a god, Anthony.”

“You’re an alien. You’re not a god, in the – in the literal sense of the word.”

Loki yawns. “What is the literal sense of the word?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Well, it doesn’t just mean ‘not mortal’,” Loki says. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

Tony stares, waiting for him to continue. He doesn’t. “Okay, so?”

Loki finishes his sandwich first, then he says, “A god is someone the Norns have a certain plan for. If they die before fulfilling their purpose, the Norns simply let them come back alive as someone else.”

Tony frowns. “So anyone can be a god?”

“In theory, yes, but the Norns tend to choose Asgardians. I am one of the few exceptions.”

“Wait, you’re not Asgardian?”

“I only grew up there.”

“What are you, then? Were you human once or something?”

Loki’s shoulders stiffen slightly. “No. I’m a different kind of alien than the others, that is all.”

Tony rubs the bridge of his nose. “And what’s your – purpose?”

“I am –” Loki pauses. “The counterpoint.”

“To what?”

“Everything. I am supposed to initiate the end of the universe.”

Tony lets his hand sink. “You’re shitting me, right?”

“I wish I was,” Loki says dryly. “If it makes you feel better, it will likely not be me. It won’t happen for a very long time, and the chances are high that I will get myself killed long before that. Are you eating that?”

Tony glances down at his plate and hands it over. He only took one or two bites of his sandwich. 

“It’s all very theoretical,” Loki continues. “Old prophecies and such, it hardly matters.”

That sounds much more lighthearted than it should, Tony thinks. “Okay, just so I get this right. You are supposed to end the entire world?”

”Is that so difficult to believe?”

Well, yeah. Because Loki might have some Lovecraftian powers, but he also does funny voices when he’s reading to Tony, and he likes weird smelling tea and cuddling. Sure, maybe he’s a sadist, but not on that large of a scale, right?

”I just don’t get it,” Tony says. “I mean, do they think you’re evil incarnate or something?”

Loki just shrugs. “Perhaps.”

Tony narrows his eyes. He doesn’t like the way Loki is not looking at him. There’s still too much tension in Loki’s shoulders, too much bitterness in his smirk.

Tony doesn’t know what to say. This whole thing is a little too high fantasy for his liking. He clears his throat. “Okay, whatever. Then what’s the deal of –” Struggling for words, he gestures between them. “This?”

”The point is that a god is as much an idea as they are a person,” Loki says, tone careful. “And an idea can’t survive if nobody believes in it. Asgard is the home of gods. It has been suffering for a long time, because of a lack of what you would call worship.”

Tony mulls that over. “If that’s just what I’d call it, what is it really?”

Loki smiles, taking a bite. “Mere energy. It’s something we can’t gain from other gods – that is why we used to share our powers with Midgard, a long time ago. And also the reason we came back.”

It doesn’t take Tony long to connect the dots. He doesn’t know if he likes the pattern that emerges. 

“That’s what you get out of these deals,” he says slowly. “Worship.”

Loki nods. He yawns again. Tony almost feels bad for keeping him up. Almost. 

“Asgard is much like a god itself,” Loki says when he’s done yawning. “Both planet and idea. Without Asgard, we would lose our connection to Yggdrasil and the Norns, so we would also lose our powers.”

Tony is just going to pretend that makes sense. “Okay.”

“The gods keep Asgard alive, but they – we – have been getting weaker and weaker over the last centuries. By now, Asgard is not much better off than Earth. These deals keep us alive, and we in turn keep Asgard alive. It’s a cycle – weak, but steady.”

“And Earth?” Tony asks. “Our cities – how do you do that?”

Loki finishes the sandwich. He doesn’t look Tony in the eye. “I made a deal I cannot break. As long as it is in effect, I act as a link between Midgard and Yggdrasil – a link your planet needs desperately in order to heal. Your entire city feeds on me.”

“On your magic?” 

Loki makes a face and shakes his head. “No, on – my life force, you could say. It is… draining. I spend a lot of time sleeping.”

With a twinge in his chest, Tony realizes that Loki really does just that when he is in his room – he sleeps. That amounts to a lot of hours every day. In the beginning, Loki basically only came out at meal times, and maybe hung out in the library for an hour or two, but the rest of the time, he was in his room. In the last few days, he spent much more time with Tony. Maybe that’s why he lost it earlier; he’s running on fumes. 

“I – I didn’t know any of that.”

Loki lifts a shoulder. “Nobody does. You will not tell a soul.”

That sounds more like a fact than a command. Tony nods, anyway. “Okay. Sure.”

Loki looks at him, waiting. “Any more questions?”

“Only about a million,” Tony says, distracted. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I know.” Loki’s face darkens, he clenches his teeth. “I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you, it was – it will not happen again.”

“I meant my head, idiot.”

Loki frowns. 

“You shouldn’t have healed me,” Tony adds. “You knew it would be too much, right? Shit, of course you knew, the only magic I’ve seen you do is some summoning and vanishing, and you said that was simple stuff.”

“Anthony –”

“No. You don’t do something you know will make you pass out, that’s just basic common sense.”

“Somehow I have the feeling that you have no right to lecture me about this.”

“I have common sense!” Tony says, because Loki does need to know about the bazillion times Tony did something stupid in the workshop while being fully aware that it was stupid. “Just, fuck. Don’t do that again. I would have been fine.”

“You were bleeding,” Loki says, miffed. “How did you manage that, anyway?”

“You’re deflecting,” Tony tells him. 

Loki glowers at him. 

Tony glares right back, but answers, anyway. “I found us an Atari to play with. And Backgammon. And a broken gramophone.”

“Ah. The attic?”

Tony nods. “Ladder broke on my way down.”

“I see. Are you alright now?”

“I’m fine.” Tony grabs the plates and puts them on the floor next to the bed. “Go to sleep, you look like you’ll pass out again any second.”

Loki sighs and rubs his eye, clearly reluctant, and clearly tired as fuck. Finally, he nods. He stands up and pushes back the covers to crawl under them, but pauses when Tony makes no move to get up. 

“Do you want to stay?” Loki asks. Neither his voice nor his face reveal what he thinks about that. 

“I’m staying,” Tony says. 

Loki raises a brow, but doesn’t say anything. He lies down, and after a moment Tony moves to do the same, just on top of the covers. 

“You must be tired, too,” Loki says, voice soft. “Healing magic is exhausting.”

Tony is, but he can’t possibly sleep right now. “I’m okay. Stop fussing.”

“Give me your wrist.”

Tony cradles his hand against his chest and sends a piercing look at Loki. “No.”

“Anthony.”

“I said no. You don’t need to heal it, it’s fine.”

“It is not fine. I won’t repeat myself, so unless you want to –”

“Red, bitch. Go to sleep.”

Loki stares at him for a second, stunned, then shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I don’t think the gramophone was broken.”

“Well, it totally was.”

The lie only makes Loki smile. “Do you trust me or are you just incredibly reckless?”

“Both,” Tony says. Maybe you can’t trust Loki without being just the slightest bit reckless. Or stupid.

Loki is asleep within minutes. Tony lies awake, thinking. It’s fascinating how weird one’s life can become in just twenty-two days. 

*

Loki doesn’t wake up when Tony leaves the room. He steps over the mess in the hallway and takes a shower. When he’s clean and rid of blood, he goes downstairs, because it’s almost six.. More or less on autopilot, he browses the cookbook for something to make for dinner. It takes a while until he notices that he isn’t even reading the pages as he turns them. 

He sighs and rubs his forehead. He has a very stubborn headache that he thinks has something to do with Loki’s sparkly powers. Hopefully Loki didn’t accidentally give Tony brain damage or something. 

Blinking his sight back into focus, he looks down at the cookbook. It would be considerably less of a mess if you put in a little more effort. Damn. 

For once, he doesn’t choose a recipe at random. 

*

He doesn’t really expect Loki to come downstairs. Loki is, as usual, full of surprises. 

He comes into the kitchen a few minutes before seven, looking like – well, like always. Dressed in the usual slacks and dress-shirt, the first few buttons open to reveal pale skin. Pale, dark circles under his eyes. 

“You look like shit.”

“I’m aware,” Loki deadpans, sitting down on a bar stool. 

“By the way, I’m flattered you dressed up for me, but you could’ve kept those adorable pyjama pants on.”

Yeah, if looks could kill. 

“I’m serious,” Tony says, all wide-eyed innocence. “You’d be so much more comfortable.”

Loki doesn’t even reply. 

“Also it was cute as fuck,” Tony adds. 

“I’m aware of that, too,” Loki says coolly. “It smells good in here.”

Tony brightens. “I know, right? Almost done, too. You wanna eat here?”

Loki nods, looking like he doesn’t care much either way. He’s smiling, but it’s frail; Tony feels like he’ll knock it right off Loki’s face with a wrong word. 

“Water or wine?” he asks, summoning up a mountain of self-control to keep from making a Jesus joke. 

“Water,” Loki says, distracted. “How is your wrist?”

“Stop fussing, I said. Why are you so hung up about that?” Tony gets a bottle of water and two glasses. “I’ve done worse to myself in my own workshop. A lot worse. I’m fine.”

Loki’s fingertips tap an irregular rhythm on the countertop. “I feel – responsible for you. When I hurt you, it shouldn’t be –”

Tony doesn’t like it, all that fumbling for words. Loki doesn’t do that, usually. 

“That,” Loki finishes after a too long pause. “It should be on purpose.”

“That’s fucked up,” Tony says, and at the same time he’s shocked because he knows exactly what Loki means. 

There exist two kinds of on purpose, now, apparently. The kind of purpose behind his dad’s raised hand when he’s had one two many drinks and Tony can’t keep his mouth shut, for one. And the kind of purpose behind some face slaps and a cane, controlled, without any malice. Something like this should never come from a place of anger. Tony gets it now. 

“Listen,” he says, pouring water into both glasses. “It was creepy as fuck, not gonna lie. But at least I got some answers I’ve been wanting, right?” He grins and pushes one of the glasses toward Loki. “Don’t do it again and we’re good.”

Loki nods, although he doesn’t seem convinced. He stays quiet until Tony puts a plate in front of him. Tony sits down next to him, keeping an eye on Loki’s reaction.

Loki unceremoniously shoves some pasta into his mouth, then pauses. He chews slowly, gaze flickering from the plate to Tony. He swallows. 

“Anthony.”

“Yeah?”

Loki gestures at the plate with his fork. “This is excellent.”

Tony can’t keep from grinning anymore. “I know. Who’d have guessed, but actually following the recipe instead of reading it once and winging it from there makes one hell of a difference. I even used the right spices. We’re almost out of oregano, though.”

Loki smirks and takes another bite. “I knew you hadn’t been trying very hard. I see that the process hasn’t gotten any less messy, though.”

Tony pointedly does not look at the stove and the mess of used cooking utensils around it. He does not look forward to cleaning that up later. “It’s a learning curve.”

“You did very well,” Loki tells him, achingly genuine. 

Tony blushes right on cue. Loki’s expression turns smug. 

“Shut up,” Tony says. “It does something for you, right?”

Loki blinks. “I’m sorry?”

“The food.”

“Oh.” Loki tilts his head to the side. “Well, yes. The same thing it does for you, I’d wager.”

“Bullshit. It does something for you worship -wise.” Tony continues speaking with his mouth full of pasta. “It was one of the first rules you laid down, cooking for you. I bet you do that with all your sacrifices.”

“Don’t call yourself a sacrifice,” Loki says. “But, yes. You’re correct, as usual.”

As usual? As usual! 

Tony grins. He does like it when somebody acknowledges his genius. “So? I want to know how the whole worship thing works, lay it on me.”

Something like surprise wanders over Loki’s face. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why? I have a right to know what I’m here for, right? Bad enough that you didn’t tell me in the first place.”

“Well.” Loki pushes some noodles around on his plate. “Whether you know or not doesn’t really make a difference.”

Alright. Tony flips the switch from ooooh, new knowledge to getting pissy. “It makes a difference to me. I don’t like not knowing shit, especially if it’s shit I’m directly involved in. And if you’re feeding on me or whatever, I want to know.”

“I’m not feeding on you.”

“Congrats, you just flew about ten miles past the point.”

Loki sighs. “Yes, I – fine. I’ll tell you everything you wish to know.”

“Great. Clock’s ticking.”

Loki takes his time chewing and swallowing his next bite. “Worship can come in many forms. Food offerings are simple, but they usually do the trick.”

Food offerings. Tony has the mental image of himself putting a bowl of undercooked pasta on an altar. Not at all weird. “Even if it’s bad food?”

Loki lifts his shoulders. “Intentions are important. More effort means a more powerful offering.” 

Duly noted. “Okay. And other forms?”

“Of worship?” Loki thinks about it for a moment. “Nearly every positive emotion can work. Fear as well, but it’s not as effective. Acts of service. Sex, of course.”

Tony frowns. “Shouldn’t you feel better by now, then? It’s been three weeks.”

“Three weeks don’t make up for nine months,” Loki says. “But the last few days were incredibly helpful. Usually, I am not any less tired after a whole day of resting, but now it will soon start to actually help.”

“Helpful, huh.” Tony puts his fork down, not hungry anymore. He doesn’t even plaster on a grin; the effort isn’t worth it. “Glad to be of service.”

“No.” Loki leans forward and puts his hand on Tony’s, squeezing. “What we have been doing – I told you, I don’t do that every year. I wouldn’t even want to, I detest most of the people that come here.”

“And, what, you detest me a little less?”

“I like you, Anthony. Very much.”

Tony pulls his hand away. He thinks about Loki following him around, saying I like being around you. That makes more sense now. “Yeah. Enough to make full use of the worship thing.”

“I would lie if I said it hasn’t been on my mind. It’s impossible to forget, if I’m honest. You’ve been praying to me constantly.”

“I – what?”

“Positive emotions,” Loki repeats. “Desire, for example.”

Oh. Oh, no. 

Tony stares at Loki, face going red. “Wait. Do you mean you can tell when I –”

“Yes.”

Fucking fantastic. 

No wonder Loki can read him like an open book. It’s like he turned on google alerts for every time Tony is horny for him. That’s great. Perfect. Not humiliating at all. 

“I can’t turn it off,” Loki says gently. “It’s like breathing air, and I need it just as much. But if it was the only thing I wanted from you, I would have gone about it much differently.”

“What, you’d have made me teach you how to knit?”

Even Loki’s smile looks exhausted. “For example. There are many ways to manipulate someone into adoring you, and to be honest sex is usually the last thing I think of.”

“We haven’t had sex.”

Loki shrugs. “Depends on your definition of the word, I suppose.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Tony says. “Look, I – if this helps you, I’m cool with it. I’m just annoyed you didn’t tell me.“

Loki just looks at him. 

“What?”

“Your priorities fascinate me,” Loki says. 

That doesn’t help Tony get any less annoyed. “What?”

“You’re not at all upset that I threatened and hurt you,” Loki says, “but you are upset I kept information from you.”

“That’s very observant of you. Did you need your sparkly powers to figure that out or was my pissed off aura enough?”

Loki’s mouth twitches. “You’re justified regarding both, naturally. I just think your complete disregard for your own safety is –”

Tony’s arched brow seems to make Loki reconsider his choice of words. 

“Impressive,” he finishes slowly. 

Yeah, that still sounds like worrying. 

“Fine,” Tony says. “Next time you threaten me, I’ll kick you right in the nuts. Until then, tell me how this works and I’ll keep playing along.”

“Like I said, positive emotions –”

“Now, that’s what happens, I want to know how it works. It’s got to be some sort of chemical chain reaction in your body – but then what’s the trigger? Positive emotions, right, but they’ve got to manifest in a way that lets you make use of them, and that’s the thing about emotions, they usually stay inside of the person feeling them. Except – wait, you can’t smell it, can you? Like fear or something? Some animals can smell arousal, right?”

“I’m not an animal,” Loki deadpans, but there’s something different in his voice, too. Something – softer, that Tony can’t place at first. “You would call it magic. It doesn’t adhere to your rules.”

Fondness, Tony thinks. Oh. That’s fondness. Tony does not know how to handle that, so he doesn’t. “Maybe not to mine, sure. Magic adheres to some rules, though, otherwise using too much of it wouldn’t make you pass out.”

Loki accepts that with a tilt of his head. “I’m not familiar with all the details, I’m afraid.”

“But you’re a wizard.”

“Mage,” Loki says. “Do you know how your heart works? Your lungs? People don’t usually pay much mind to their body’s functions as long as they work. I’m no healer, I’ve never studied these things.”

“It makes you sick, though. The lack of – of worship.”

“Yes.”

Tony frowns. If he was sick, he’d do everything to understand the why and how himself, in order to fix it himself. Call it trust issues. 

“Did the –” No. Tony starts again. “You feel better now?”

Loki nods easily, and it must be true, because he doesn’t look nearly as gray as he did before in his bedroom. Still pale and tired, sure, but not like he’s going to fall apart. 

“This helped,” Loki says, clearing the last remains of dinner off his plate. 

Yes, that checks out. More effort. Tony files that away for future reference. Suddenly, the times Loki ate his meals in record time make a lot of sense. 

“I think I have one or two books that cover the topic,” Loki adds. “If you want to know more about how worship works, I can translate them for you.”

Tony scoffs. “I learned French in a week when I was ten. I’ll manage godspeak just fine.”

“Asgardian.”

“Whatever.”

“I’ll find the books for you later, then” Loki says. Suddenly, he grins.  “Oh, you’ll hate them.”

“Yeah, let me guess, it’s a lot of magical mumbo jumbo about flowing energy?”

“It’s merely science you don’t understand yet,” Loki says soothingly. “So I won’t blame you if it’s beyond your comprehension.”

Tony stares at Loki for a second, mouth slack, because Loki has got to be joking. “Beyond my comprehension? I’ll show you beyond my comprehension –”

He stops, because Loki’s grin has come back at full brightness. Tony manages to resist the impulse to throw pasta at him, but it’s a close call. 

“Fuck you,” he says. “I’m not falling for that.”

“You already did.”

Loki’s right, of course, because Tony will read and understand those books out of sheer spite. For the first time today, Loki seems satisfied with himself. 

“You’re such an ass,” Tony tells him, standing up. “Do you want more?”

“Yes, please.”

Tony rolls his eyes at Loki’s polite tone and takes Loki’s empty plate to give him a second serving. 

*

After dinner, Loki goes to the library. Tony doesn’t join him, even though there’s a brief moment where Loki is clearly waiting – hoping – for Tony to follow him and Tony just wipes a nonexistent stain on the counter away so that he looks busy although they both know that he is not. It’s all very normal and not at all awkward. 

When Loki is gone, Tony sighs and tosses the rag away. He lets a few minutes pass before he leaves the kitchen and goes upstairs. He wants to get rid of the mess his tumble down the ladder left behind, but to his surprise, it’s not there anymore – everything has been moved out of the way and put back into the box that is now sitting on the sideboard. Next to box, there’s the gramophone and the backgammon board. The hatch that leads to the attic is closed, the broken ladder pulled in. 

Loki must have taken care of it while Tony was cooking. While Loki should have been sleeping. 

Idiot. 

Chapter Text

23

Things are more awkward than they were when Tony first came here, and he does not like it. They barely talk during breakfast, and Loki looks tired and resigned, and after breakfast Tony has to decide if cleaning the waffle iron is even worth it because at the first attempt he poured so much batter into it that it spilled all over the sides, so in conclusion, everything sucks. 

He just wanted to make some waffles, for fuck’s sake. 

After careful consideration, he cleans the waffle iron instead of just throwing it away, but he’s very pissed about it. Most of all he’s getting tired of the consequences of cooking. Just cooking is fine, he feels like it might even be a little fun, but after cooking, there are dishes. He did not sign up for there to be dishes. 

Twenty-three days. Sixty-four more to go. The thought wasn’t all too bad just twenty-four hours ago, but now, fuck. He wants to go home. 

He goes to the library. Loki is there, sitting at his desk – it’s kind of funny, now that Tony knows what’s going on. Loki likes sitting there looking all regal and important even though all he actually wants is take a damn nap. 

“What are you even doing?” Tony asks, standing in the doorway to the library. “Do you have a penpal in Australia or something?”

“LA,” Loki says. 

“What?”

“Los Angeles. I have a penpal there. Although I wouldn’t call him that.”

“What would you call him, then?”

“Brother, usually.”

Oh. The connection lights up in Tony’s mind, bright neon. “Your brother is Thor.”

Loki doesn’t look very happy about that. “Yes.”

Loki mentioned a brother once, and he also mentioned wanting LA instead of New York. He didn’t mention that his brother and the god watching over LA are one and the same. Thor. He’s a lot more public than Loki, spends a lot of time outside and among people, all bright grins and lightning eyes. Prince Thor, he’d say, then dismiss it with a wave of his big hand, but just Thor is fine. Tony has seen him on the news too many times to count. Asgard’s crown prince.

Tony smells some good old favoritism and sibling rivalry. Thank god he’s an only child. 

“I didn’t know he could write,” Tony says. 

That earns a laugh, at least. “He’s not as dull as first impressions might lead one to believe. Just – genuine.”

“But he doesn’t know how to use a phone?”

“Oh, he does. I’m just pretending that I don’t, otherwise he’d be calling me twice a day.”

Tony raises a brow. He might tease Loki for knowing how to use a TV, but so far, Loki hasn’t actually given him reason to believe that he doesn’t know how to handle Earth tech. He works the stereo in the library just fine, in any case.

“And he buys that?”

“I think he has his doubts,” Loki says. “But I’ll be safe for a few more years, hopefully. Did you want something?”

Right. Yes. Tony shrugs. “Yeah, I – I want to go for a drive. So here I am asking for permission to leave the house like a good little mortal. Can I?”

Loki blinks, and for a moment Tony thinks he’ll say no, but – “If you like. There’s a town about five miles south, about as boring as it gets, but better than going north.”

Because north would mean leaving Loki’s territory. They’re already at the very edge of it as it is, and Tony doesn’t feel like stretching his luck. He nods. 

“I’ll, uh. I’ll be back in time for lunch.”

Loki nods and turns back to his letter. Tony stares at him, waiting, but Loki stays quiet.

“I don’t want to run away or anything,” Tony says, too quickly. 

Loki looks at him again, face blank. “You’re no prisoner here, Anthony. If you want to, you can leave.”

“But then our deal falls through.”

“Yes.”

Tony swallows and nods again, looking away. “Yeah, well. Maybe I’ll bring something nice back for lunch.”

Loki looks like he wants to say something and then thinks better of it. 

*

Tony drives south. The town Loki mentioned is less a town and more a full-blown suburb, which isn’t surprising. While the godless cities have been shrinking, these areas have been growing like mold in the last few decades, huddling close together as near as possible to New York City. That‘s the center of Loki‘s territory, after all, and everyone there is safe, protected. No water shortage, no epidemics, no earthquakes or hurricanes, no poisoned food. Loki‘s blessing spreads like an echo, getting weaker and weaker with every mile until it fades completely. These suburbs aren‘t as safe as Manhattan, but the sky is clear here, too. 

For the first time, Tony wonders if it‘s clear enough to see the stars at night. They‘re barely ever visible in New York; the city is too bright. 

His first stop is a diner downtown. His car is the most expensive one in the parking lot – no surprise there – and people stare at him when he walks in. No surprise there, either. He orders a coffee, the waiter is young, about his age, and they talk cars for a bit before someone at another table demands the guy‘s attention. It‘s not crowded. A few men in overalls, farmers or construction workers, talking quietly and stealing glances at Tony every now and then. Two women and their kids, all of them a little too thin for Tony‘s liking. 

“Can I ask you something?” the waiter asks as Tony pulls out his wallet to pay. 

“Shoot.”

“You’re Tony Stark, right?”

“Live and in color, yeah.” Tony holds up his credit card. “Here’s what’s going to happen now: I’ll give you this, and you’ll use it to pay for every order that came in this morning and give those kids over there two extra stacks of pancakes, and neither of us is going to lose another word about it. Clear?”

“Uh. I – I mean, yeah, thank you, that’s –”

“That counts as another word, technically, but I’ll let it pass. Don’t forget the tip.”

The waiter blinks, but pulls himself together quickly enough. While he spends Tony’s money, Tony finishes his coffee and tries to ignore the stares of the men two tables over that he feels like prickling needles on his back. 

The waiter wants to give the credit card back, but in reaction to Tony’s gesture, he puts it on the table. “You’re living up there at the moment, aren’t you? It was all over the news.”

Tony puts the card back into his wallet. “Yep.”

“What’s he like?”

“He’s alright. As you can see, he hasn’t beaten me black and blue yet.” And that’s kind of a lie, isn’t it, given what Loki did to Tony’s feet. He doesn’t want to know how fast the waiter’s curiosity would turn into actual horror and disgust as he knew. Tony shakes the thought off. “You ever see him around here?”

The waiter shakes his head. “Never. He’s got some sort of deal with the grocery store down the street and I think he orders stuff from the bookshop sometimes, but he doesn’t drop by.”

Of course he doesn’t. 

Tony leaves the diner and walks past his car. The grocery store down the street isn’t a chain, and he gets the feeling it only managed to stick around thanks to Loki’s regular purchases. A lot of people do a double take when they see him, some actually stop and stare, some greet him carefully. Tony grins and waves at them all because he’s good at ignoring how his skin itches from their stares, even though this level is… new. Before all this, people recognized him sometimes, mostly as the son of famous World War Two hero Howard Stark and child prodigy of SI. Now they recognize him as shit isn’t that the guy who volunteered this year and look at him with abashed curiosity, sometimes mingled with honest to god gratitude. Tony likes the attention; he doesn’t like the ball of shame that builds in his stomach in reaction. 

He spots a pub on the other side of the street and goes inside. He orders another coffee and asks around – the men here look like they’ve given up and resorted to solving their problems with drinking ten beers before noon. None of them has ever seen Loki, let alone spoken to him. 

When Tony leaves the pub, it’s raining. He barely even notices, because he’s starting to get angry. At first he doesn’t know why, but he figures it out in the bookshop. 

He’s just browsing, really, trying to give his eyes and hands something to do while he thinks. He spots a small book in the fantasy section, a pretty illustrated edition of The Hobbit that he hasn’t seen in Loki’s collection. He’d like it, though, so Tony decides to take it back to the house. On his way to the checkout, he passes the magazines and newspapers. 

And suddenly he knows why he’s angry. 

*

The bag they gave him at the bookshop reads support your local independent bookstore! Tony grabs it from the passenger seat and jogs through the rain to the house. He makes his way to the library, where Loki is still sitting at his desk. 

“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” he says. “Did you –”

“My turn first,” Tony says and stops in front of the desk, all but slamming the bag down on it. The magazines inside rustle. “See, there’s something I don’t really get, so I’d be really grateful if you could shed some light on the situation.”

Loki, for understandable reasons, looks wary. “I’ll try?”

“Thanks. Have you ever stood in a store and counted just how many gods were on the magazine covers? Because today, I did, and –” Tony pulls one magazine out of the bag at random. “Five. Five gods, today. Look, here’s your brother.”

He turns the magazine and tosses it down on the desk in front of Loki. Loki’s expression goes dark comically fast. Tony doesn’t give him the chance to say something. 

“Oh, here’s that Rio de Janeiro chick,” he says brightly, taking out one magazine after the other. “Freyja, right? And here’s a guy named Fandral in Toronto. Here’s Thor again, and again. I think this is the Dublin one but I always mix her up with the one from Paris. This one’s definitely Reykjavik, though.”

“And what is the point of this, exactly?” Loki asks, teeth clenched. 

“I’m not done,” Tony says, but he drops the cheerful tone. He pulls out today’s New York Times and holds it up. “They’re everywhere in the newspapers, you know. They throw parties. They give speeches. They do charity stuff. Meanwhile, nobody in that town has ever even seen you! You show up once a year at that party and that’s it! The rest of the time you’re here, wallowing in your misery –”

“Anthony –”

“No, this pisses me off. If manipulating people into adoring you is so fucking easy, why aren’t you doing it?” 

“Because it’s not enough,” Loki snaps. “It can never be enough. Look at him, does he seem healthy to you?”

Tony looks down at the magazine Loki picked up and opened – that Fandral guy, blond, pretty. It’s not a picture improved by photoshop, it’s a little blurry, shot by a smartphone camera from too far away. Still, you can see that the guy looks exhausted. 

Tony meets Loki’s eyes again, unimpressed. “Healthier than you.”

“There are a lot more people living in New York than in Toronto.”

“Oh, come off it. There’s a god in Tokyo. By that logic, he shouldn’t even be able to get out of bed, but he’s always out and about –”

“There are twenty of us,” Loki interrupts, voice sharp. “Twenty. We feed your cities and your people, and we keep our own planet and our people alive. There is barely anything left for us. What they are doing – humans don’t believe in us like they used to. This kind of worship is fleeting; it only makes things marginally better.”

“But that’s still something! I know networking sucks ass, but don’t tell me you’re too proud to charm some fangirls into obsessing over you. That’s like –”

“What for?”

Tony stops and stares. “What do you mean, what for?”

Loki crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, stubborn. He jerks his chin toward the magazines. “None of this would give me what I want. I tried; it gets tedious after a decade or two. It’s never enough, there is always something missing – and I can’t leave New York. I can’t use my powers like I used to. It’s likely that I will never be able to again. The others are not any less stuck than I because they smile at a camera every once in a while.”

“So you’re just a crybaby who’s given up.”

Loki gapes. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I bet there’s something you could do instead of hiding all the way out here and –”

“And what would you suggest, pray tell? As brilliant as you are, I’m sure you’ve come up with a –”

Music cuts him off. They both flinch. After a second, Tony realizes that the music is coming from his phone, because it’s a ringtone. And a special one at that. 

Shit. 

“Hold that thought,” he says, fishing his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. He turns away from the desk, accepting the call. “Dad?”

He doesn’t look at Loki while he makes his way to the door. In his mind, he goes through everything that happened today, because there must have been, he must have done something –

“Hi,” Howard says, already sarcastic, as if Tony somehow managed to fuck up the conversation despite only saying one word. “Are you alone?”

Tony pulls the door of the library shut behind him. “Yes.”

“Good. Care to tell me what you’re doing?”

“I’m…” Arguing with a god? No. “Making lunch? Why, what happened?”

Howard sighs. “Tony. What did I tell you? You were supposed to –”

“I know! It’s fine, everything’s under control.”

“Is that why you’re drinking before noon?”

“What are you talking about? I’m stone cold sober, pinky promise. This is practically rehab.”

“There’s a photo of you online,” Howard says with a sigh. “You’re coming out of a pub. Next time, at least check that there aren’t any teens around who’ll post about it.”

Shit. 

“I wasn’t drinking,” Tony says, even though he knows it’s no use. “I had a coffee, for fuck’s sake, I just wanted –”

“I don’t care,” Howard says. “Why were you even out on your own? Did he throw you out?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “No. He let me take the morning off, that’s all. I’m fine, by the way, thanks for asking.”

“We don’t need even more trouble with the press, Tony. Use that brain of yours for once and think. Honestly, sometimes I think you’re doing it on purpose.“

For a moment, Tony can‘t speak. He stares at the wall. “I’m not.”

“Well, thank god,” Howard drawls. “Be more careful, then.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And if he gives you the day off, maybe don’t immediately run away from him. Just a tip.”

“Yeah, alright,” Tony says. He swallows. “Where’s mom? Can I talk to her?”

“She’s not home.”

“Oh. Okay.”

A beat. 

“We’ll see you in two months,” Howard says. “Hang in there.”

He ends the call. 

“Hang in there,” Tony parrots under his breath, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Fuck. 

He takes a breath. Fine. Everything under control. All good. 

He walks back into the library. Loki hasn’t moved from his chair, but he kept himself busy with looking at the other stuff Tony bought. The bag is empty now, and Loki is holding the book Tony got for him. 

“This is pretty,” Loki says, voice even. “Maybe you have good taste, after all.”

“It’s for you.”

Loki looks up, surprised. “For me?”

Tony nods and goes to the sofa to sit down. His anger evaporated, and he’d like to have it back, actually, because it was better than looking at Loki’s too pale skin and tired eyes and feeling sad. 

“I thought it was nice. It’s, uhm. Illustrated. You don’t have it already, do you?”

“No,” Loki says softly and opens the book, stroking over the page with gentle fingers. “Thank you.”

Tony stops in the movement of taking off his sneakers, looking back at Loki. “Wait, does that count as worship, too?”

“Yes.” Loki’s smile is brief. “Gifts always work, some more and some less. Something hand made is usually the most effective.”

Tony huffs. “Well, sorry. I can draw you a picture with crayons if you want.”

“It doesn’t work at all if you don’t mean it.”

“I can draw you a picture with crayons and mean it. But only if you promise to put it on your fridge.”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Your artistic skills.”

Tony manages a lopsided grin. “I’m goddamn da Vinci, just you wait.”

Loki just smiles. Despite the banter, he doesn’t seem relaxed. Waiting for an apology, probably. Well, tough shit – Tony isn’t sorry, and he won’t pretend.

After a few minutes, Loki asks, “Was that the first time your father called?”

Tony thinks he would prefer it if Loki demanded an apology. “Since I’m here, you mean?”

“Yes.” 

Tony shrugs. He kicks his shoes aside, not looking at Loki. “I was in a pub earlier. Someone saw and posted about it, apparently, now dad is shitting his pants. Because, you know. Bad press.”

Loki doesn’t say anything. The desk lamp flickers. Tony goes stiff, frowning at the lamp.

“I wasn’t drinking,” he says, tense. “And I didn’t say anything about you. To anyone. Don’t go eldritch again.”

Something close to horror flickers over Loki’s face, almost too fast to catch. He shakes his head and puts the book down on the desk. “I’m not mad at you.”

He stands up and comes over to the sofa. In reaction to the questioning look on his face, Tony shrugs, and Loki seems to take that as a yes. He sits down next to Tony.

“I have myself under control, usually,” he says. “Yesterday was – an exception. It’s always a little difficult to adjust when my powers first get stronger again, but of course that’s no excuse.”

“So you are getting stronger?”

Loki smiles faintly. “Yes.”

“Because of me?”

“Yes.”

Tony nods and leans his head back, closing his eyes. “That’s a start, I guess.”

Loki hums, and a moment later he’s touching Tony’s still damp hair. Hesitant at first, as if he thinks Tony will push him away. Tony doesn’t. The touch feels nice, even though the gentleness of it makes Tony’s throat tighten a bit. That is terrifying. 

“You should take these clothes off,” Loki says. “They’re wet.”

“You just want to get me naked,” Tony murmurs, not opening his eyes.

“Usually,” Loki agrees.

Tony has to laugh. “You should at least get a dog or something.”

Loki’s hand stops moving for a moment. “A dog? Why?”

“It’d worship the ground you walk on, that’s why.”

“Animals don’t work.” A beat. “And I prefer cats.”

“Of course you do.”

26

They don’t talk about it again. Not about the worship thing, not about Loki’s – is it an illness? Or malnourishment? Withdrawal? Anyway, they don’t talk about it. Tony prefers it this way, because he feels like they would just start fighting again. Tony likes it a lot better when they aren’t fighting, because that means they can act like they’re fighting when they’re actually just teasing, and Loki can keep reading The Silmarillion to Tony and be offended when Tony makes fun of the names or the at times nonexistent plot. Things are almost back to how they were before.

And, yeah, that’s the key word. 

Almost. 

Because things being like they were before also means that there is room for other stuff in Tony’s head again. He still thinks about worship a lot, and about this being a system that was probably flawed from the beginning, but he can also think about other things. Like how Loki really is terribly nice to lean against when they are reading, and he’s good at stroking Tony’s hair or back in a way that makes him melt. His hands are still way too fucking nice to look at. Listening to him talk is a mistake as a whole, because his slight accent is so pretty and Tony can’t stop thinking about what he sounded like in certain other situations. 

In short, Tony is doomed. 

Because Loki knows. Tony figures the google alerts thing is in full action, and now that he knows what’s going on, he sees the signs – a slight smirk when they sit at the table together and Tony hasn’t stared at Loki’s hands or mouth even once but he’s been thinking about it. A pleased spark in Loki’s eyes when they are in the library and Tony realizes that he has been imagining climbing into Loki’s lap for the last five to eight minutes. Loki knows. Tony doesn’t doubt that. He hates it, because there’s a flush of embarrassment every time he thinks about it. It feels like his thoughts aren’t quite his own anymore – it’s not like Loki can’t read his mind or anything, or at least Tony thinks he can’t, but if he still notices when Tony wants him – well, then Tony can’t even want him in secret. 

For some reason, maybe because Tony has always been a bit of a reckless idiot, it’s also exciting. Kind of. Maybe just a little. 

He goes to his room after dinner. Loki doesn’t complain – maybe there’s a flicker of disappointment that makes Tony’s chest feel much too warm, but that’s it. He doesn’t mind when Tony wants to be alone, and that’s good, because Tony thinks that if he had to sit next to Loki all evening, he would explode. 

He just wants some good, old-fashioned make up sex, dammit. 

He takes a shower, even though he already took one after his run in the morning. He’s half hard already, and not even the cold water helps. He wonders if Loki knows right now, too, and how that knowledge manifests. Maybe his skin tickles like it does when someone behind you is staring at you, or maybe it’s some sort of second-hand arousal in his stomach. Then again, he doesn’t get aroused, does he? Shit, Tony should probably ask if it makes Loki uncomfortable, if he enjoys it apart from needing it, but… he thinks Loki does. He remembers what Loki looked like when Tony was on his knees and followed his orders, and in those moments Tony wanted him so much. Loki enjoyed that. He said so himself.

Maybe he would enjoy it now, too. 

“Fuck,” Tony says, turning the water off. He runs a hand over his face, brushing his dripping hair back.

He gets out of the shower and dries himself, trying to ignore the excitement in his abdomen. He fails. He puts on boxers and a t-shirt and settles down in bed with his laptop, intending to get some work done, but he can’t focus. He tries, he really does, because he knows that he shouldn’t be thinking about Loki right now. Or at least not getting horny thinking about him. That’s mortifying, now that Loki knows. 

Fucking gods. 

He holds his breath and looks up when he hears steps in the hallway. Loki doesn’t stop in front of Tony’s door, though, and a moment later Tony hears the quiet sound of Loki closing his own bedroom door. He probably wants to sleep. It’s way too early for Tony to do the same, and somehow the knowledge that Loki is now just three rooms over only makes his heart beat faster. Is distance a factor? With Tony upstairs and Loki downstairs, is the effect of – well – worship smaller than when they are in the same room? Tony has to ask about that, too.

He yanks his eyes away from the door and stares at his laptop. Some minutes pass, then he realizes he isn’t even looking at anything on the screen. He blinks, then closes the laptop and puts it aside.

Fuck it. 

He lies down, shifting around until he finds a comfortable position. Then he holds still, hesitating with his hands on his stomach. Consider it an experiment, he thinks. If he gets off thinking about Loki now, will Loki feel better, if only slightly? Will he mention it at all? The thought makes Tony’s face flush. He could definitely put up a bit of a show and act like he doesn’t mind at all, yeah, I jerked off thinking about you, so what? Don’t let it get to your head. Thing is, Loki would know it’s an act. God knows it’s not easy to embarrass Tony, but Loki seems to have a knack for it.

Tony gives up and palms his hard cock through his boxers. The touch makes him exhale roughly. He squeezes and rubs himself through the fabric, closing his eyes. He feels his face getting hot, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Loki if he tried – every other fantasy or memory pales in comparison. And shit, he doesn’t even imagine Loki naked, or what fucking him would be like. It’s enough to think about Loki being right behind him, an arm wrapped around Tony, his legs spread so that Tony can lean against his chest. Loki whispering into his ear, giving orders, kissing the spot of sensitive skin behind Tony’s ear when he obeys. That’s a nice thought, right there, and not all too far fetched. If Loki came in right now, chances are he’d do exactly that. Maybe he’d be a little mean about it – tease him for being so needy, make him wait and ask for permission. Maybe he’d punish Tony for touching himself without permission. 

Tony bites his lip and pushes his boxers down, struggling to get them all the way down his legs. He kicks them away impatiently and licks his palm a few times – why didn’t he bring lube? He should have brought lube – before he closes his fist around his cock. He takes a deep, shaky breath. He keeps his eyes shut, thinking about what Loki might be doing in his room right now. Resting, or trying to rest, maybe he’s lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling instead, waiting, feeling whatever worship feels like. Tony hopes it’s good; he wants to make it good, he just isn’t sure how. Pain, maybe? Loki likes hurting Tony, that much is clear. Tony doesn’t mind thinking about that. The cane. Or maybe not the cane itself, but Loki’s hand wielding it – the crisp pain of every hit, the lightheadedness in between. A punishment, yes, but if it hadn’t been, Loki might have praised him during.

In the end, Tony isn’t sure what he’s thinking about anymore when he comes. Pain or praise, or both. Either way, it’s Loki.

27

Tony makes pancakes for breakfast again. He hopes they’ll turn out better this time and pointedly does not think about the last time he made pancakes and ended up eating them straight from Loki’s fingers. 

“Good morning.”

Tony flinches and almost drops the spatula. Looking over his shoulder, he sees Loki coming toward him and looking not apologetic at all. Tony points at him with the spatula. “You need a bell.”

“You need to pay more attention to your surroundings,” Loki counters. “Pancakes?”

His hopeful tone makes Tony laugh. “Yeah, obviously. I think I didn’t even mess up the egg to milk ratio.”

“Wonders never cease.” Loki walks up to the counter, gaze fixed on the pot of tea Tony prepared. “And you made tea already, too. Aiming to please, hm?”

Uh oh. The tone is a little bit too knowing for Tony’s taste. Okay, stay calm; he acts innocent and maneuvers the finished pancake from the pan to a plate. “Don’t act so surprised, I’ve been making you tea every morning for almost a month now. You’re bitchy without.”

“I’ve never been bitchy in my entire life,” Loki says in the bitchiest tone known to man. 

“Uh huh. You’re up early.”

“I slept well.” Loki takes a cup and pours tea into it, one corner of his mouth curling upward. “You too, I hope.”

“Uh. Yes. Absolutely.”

“Lovely. What do you think about eating in the library? The sun is shining for the first time in days.”

“Yeah, sure. If you want.”

They move to the library once the pancakes are done. The sun is shining, and thanks to the large windows, it almost feels like sitting outside, minus the cold. It’s November now – Tony was right earlier, he’s been here for almost a full month. That doesn’t sound real, somehow he feels like he’s known Loki longer. 

They eat on the sofa, balancing the plates on their laps, and Tony smears maple sirup all over his shirt because he’s so distracted laughing at something Loki said. He’s so comfortable that he almost forgets to be anxious about what he did the night before. Which is ridiculous, actually, because he doesn’t have to justify jerking off, right? So what if he thought about Loki? That shouldn’t be a surprise at this point. He waits for Loki to broach the topic – because come on, of course he knows – but he doesn’t, not really, he just makes a few comments that could easily pass as innuendos with a smirk that has Tony breaking out into cold sweat. 

Fucking tease. 

After breakfast, Tony brings the plates to the kitchen. When he comes back to the library, Loki has moved to the armchair, legs crossed with a book in one hand. Tony frowns, because, what, are they just going to do normal stuff? Like nothing happened?

“Is something wrong?” Loki asks, concern lacing the words. It sounds genuine, but Tony narrows his eyes nonetheless. 

“Yes,” he says. 

Loki acknowledges that with a lingering look, then he turns back to his book. Why isn’t he sitting on the sofa? They always sit on the sofa. And what’s with the innocent act? Is Loki just playing dumb or does he really not know – did Tony do it wrong? Hell, maybe it was so bad that Loki decides they’re better off acting like it never happened. 

Tony crosses his arms. He doesn’t walk over to the sofa and sits down, he stays standing in the middle of the room, staring at Loki. Loki ignores him. 

“You’re not even gonna mention it?” Tony asks into the silence, a sharp edge to his voice. 

“Mention what, darling?”

Oh, he’s so fucking proud he keeps managing to put Tony off balance, isn’t he? Well, two can play that game. 

“Loki,” Tony says, slowly. Hook, line – “May I kneel, please?”

And sinker. 

At once, Loki’s head snaps up. He stares at him, stunned, and Tony has to bite down on his tongue to keep from grinning. 

Sadly, Loki’s face darkens all too quickly. He huffs, looking down at his book. “No. Not if it’s only out of spite.”

“It’s not just –”

“Watch yourself, Anthony, you’re about to break a rule. No lies. I can tell.”

“You can tell when I’m lying?”

“Your fingers twitch.”

“What.”

Loki looks at him again, oddly indulgent. “Your fingers twitch when you lie, so yes. But I meant that I can tell when you actually want to kneel, and I don’t appreciate you putting on a show.”

“Well, I don’t appreciate you ignoring me –”

“I’m hardly ignoring you –”

“You are! And it pisses me off! If you’re not interested anymore then just fucking tell me, don’t –”

“Alright,” Loki says, loudly enough that it stuns Tony into silence. “Alright, I – forgive me, I didn’t mean to upset you. Yellow, I believe?”

Tony blinks, anger fading. Yellow? Oh. He hesitates. “Uh. Yeah, I guess.”

“Would you like to come here?”

Tony watches Loki put the book aside. He feels ridiculous, suddenly, like a toddler who just threw a tantrum, but Loki doesn’t look like he’s about to make fun of him. 

Tony crosses the room, but instead of following the invitation and sitting down in Loki’s lap – what is he, five? – he sits down on the coffee table right in front of Loki. Loki doesn’t comment on that. 

“I just meant to let you simmer a little,” he says instead. “I’m still interested. If I made you feel like I was just playing with you, that wasn’t my intention.”

Tony scoffs, looking away. “You’ve been playing with me since the start.”

“I’ve been trying to do it in a way you enjoy.”

Well, that’s more than Tony expected he would get in the beginning, he supposes. And it’s true, Loki has been trying. And succeeding, mostly. 

“I finally found those books about worship we talked about,” Loki adds. “We should start reading them, given that you seem to have decided to make use of it.”

His tone is light, teasing again. Tony blushes right on cue. 

“It was a scientific experiment,” he says weakly. He can’t stop himself from grinning a little in reaction to the look on Loki’s face.

“I’m sure it was,” Loki says. “You’ll be happy to hear that it was successful.”

“So I didn’t do it wrong?”

Loki tilts his head to the side. “Were you worried about that?”

“No.”

Loki hums and looks down at Tony’s hands. “If I were you, I’d find something to do with my hands while lying. They do get restless.”

Tony gives him a deadpan look and gives his hands something to do by showing Loki his two middle fingers.

“Creative,” Loki says, unbothered. “What did you do, exactly?”

Tony lets his hands sink. “Last night?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t know?”

“Worship doesn’t open a window for me to watch you through. It’s more a sensation – an echo of what you are feeling at the moment.”

Tony frowns. He was right about that, then. “Sorry.”

Loki blinks slowly. “Why?”

“You’re not into all that – sex, I mean, right? So when I’m, like, pushing it over to you –”

“Oh, no,” Loki cuts him off quickly. He’s smiling slightly. “No, it doesn’t work quite like that. I can tell what you’re feeling, but it doesn’t make me feel the same. Most gods I know get aroused in response, but I’ve never – well. I do not.”

“So you don’t like it.”

Loki sighs in a here we go again way that makes Tony feel a little stupid. He doesn’t like feeling stupid, so he narrows his eyes, prepared to be pissed about whatever Loki says next. 

“I like it,” Loki says firmly. “Very much. It’s never sexual for me, but it’s – exciting nonetheless. It feels good. Apart from the fact that I am in desperate need of it, physically, it feels good.”

“You wouldn’t be in desperate need of it if you went out and found some friends.”

Loki’s expression shuts off so fast that it looks like someone flipped a switch. “Careful, Anthony.”

Okay, so, maybe that was a little too far. It’s true , though. Still, Tony doesn’t like what he saw in that split second before Loki got his face under control – hurt. It’s actually possible to hurt a god’s feelings; who would have guessed?

“Sorry,” Tony offers, meaning it. “I’m fucking this up right now, aren’t I?”

The tension slowly seeps out of Loki’s shoulders. He shakes his head. “No. I already knew you were conflicted last night; I shouldn’t have teased you. Sometimes I don’t know when to stop pushing.”

“What do you mean, conflicted? I wasn’t conflicted.”

“Ashamed.” Loki raises a brow. “And conflicted because shame seems to be tightly tied to arousal these days, doesn’t it?”

Yeah, Tony doesn’t like this conversation. At all. He grits his teeth, not quite managing to keep looking Loki in the eye. “You can tell all that? From –”

“Yes.”

Great. Tony huffs. “Why are we even talking about it if you know everything that’s going on in my head, anyway?”

“Because I don’t,” Loki says, softly. “And because I don’t want you to feel this uncertain all the time. It doesn’t suit you.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “I’m not uncertain, I just –”

“Conflicted?”

“Shut up.”

“Unlikely. Well, lucky for you, I know just what to do to help you be neither.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his hands, and grins. “Let’s lay down some rules, shall we?”

God, not this again.

Chapter Text

27

Five minutes later, Tony is sitting at Loki’s desk. Loki leans over him from behind, swiping various documents aside in a way that will make sorting them out a real hassle later on. Tony catches a glimpse of a letter in a language he has never seen before, then Loki puts the pile aside. 

He places a blank sheet of paper and a pen in front of Tony. Tony is not amused. 

“We’re not doing a dictation exercise, are we? What’s this, student-teacher roleplay?”

“Would you enjoy that?”

Tony stares up at Loki, who is staring back at him, waiting. Tony blinks. “Wait, are you serious?”

“No, I’m asking if you are. I can’t say I see the appeal, but I’d be willing to try.”

He’s insane, Tony thinks. Actually insane. How can someone be so weird and also so achingly genuine? “You just want to hit my ass with a ruler.”

Loki seems to consider that. “I can see the appeal of that.”

Tony has to laugh. “Yeah, called it.”

Loki grins back, leaning against the desk. “I’m happy to revisit this later, but for now, I was more thinking about ground rules.”

“I already have three pages of ground rules upstairs.”

“Special ground rules about the sexual side of things.”

“I thought there was no sexual side of things for you.”

Loki is starting to look exasperated again. “I ordered you to touch yourself several times in the last few weeks. Of course there’s a sexual side of things.”

Tony finds that confusing. 

He’s about to say so and argue, but then he thinks better of it, because. Well, because Loki actually seems kind of excited about this. And Tony doesn’t want to ruin that, because it’s cute. It also dissolves the knot of tension that’s been sitting in his chest for days now, at least a little. 

“Okay,” he says, sighing. “Fine. But if this is going to be another five hour negotiation session, I want a drink.”

“No. No drinking.”

Tony widens his eyes, acting shocked, and picks up the pen. “I know, it’s on page two upstairs.”

“I’m touched you know that by heart. What are you writing?”

“Tony Stark can do whatever the fuck he wants, forever.”

Loki snorts. “There you have rule number one, then.”

“Technically, it’s rule twenty-four,” Tony corrects, distracted by finishing writing the sentence, then lifts his head. “Wait, really?”

“Yes,” Loki says easily, but pauses when he looks at Tony properly. “This stops the second you decide you don’t want it, Anthony. Our deal requires your obedience, but what we have been doing goes beyond that. So, yes, you can do whatever you want, including doing what I tell you.”

Tony looks down at the sentence he wrote, frowning. Slowly, he puts the number one in front of it. “I’m not an idiot, you know. I know what BDSM is. How it works.”

“Do you? You’re not experienced in it, and I doubt you have ever seen yourself in the role of the submissive. Or am I wrong?”

“Is that what I am? Your submissive?”

“For now, yes. At least I would like you to be.”

“Alright. Do I get a badge? Ohh, maybe a shiny golden sign for my desk.”

“You don’t even have a desk.”

“For my door, then. Not like it matters when you’ll take it off in two months, anyway, given that it’s just for now.”

Loki quirks a brow. He doesn’t even seem offended. “My, you do have a sharp tongue. Second rule, please: when you want something, ask.”

“That’s rule number two upstairs.”

“Yes, but since you can’t seem to remember it, you should write it down again.”

Tony doesn’t bristle at that – it’s just bait, anyway – but nods like they’re in a business meeting, writing it down. “And how does this relate?”

“Well, let’s hope you’ll figure it out when the time comes.”

Tony writes down another rule. Loki leans down a little to read it. 

“No,” he says then. 

“I think it’s fair.”

“I’m not going to pay you a dollar every time I’m a ‘smug, arrogant asshole’. Scratch it out.”

“You’re just pissed because you’d have to give me all your money,” Tony says, grinning, but he scratches the rule out nonetheless. “What’s up next, then?”

“Well, let’s see.” 

Loki hops up to sit on the desk, which puts Tony at the perfect level to stare at Loki’s thighs in his slacks. His legs are long enough that his feet still reach the ground, because he’s annoying like that. Tony really wants to get him out of those pants, but he’s not sure if Loki would be into that. Tony could touch him, though, right? No funny business, just. A massage or something. Getting his hands on Loki would be a goddamn dream either way. 

“Praying.”

Tony snaps out of it. “What?”

“You’re praying,” Loki clarifies. “You seem to be interested in the effect it has on me, so I thought I should tell you when it happens.”

“I – bullshit, I wasn’t.” Tony stops, trying to remember if he prattled through a paternoster without noticing. No, definitely not. “Was I?”

“Only a little,” Loki admits, smiling. “But it’s impossible to miss when we are this close.” 

“Ogling you counts as fucking praying? Wait until the Catholics hear.”

“The intention matters,” Loki says. His smile brightens. “I have no idea what you just thought about, but you’re actually quite eager to please, aren’t you?”

Tony looks away and scribbles a few numbers on the top right corner of the page. “Yellow.”

Silence, for a moment.

“Very good,” Loki says then, voice even. “Thank you. What is it?”

“Don’t go digging around in my head. It’s creepy.”

“Ah.” Loki pauses. “I can’t actually read your mind.”

“Yeah, but you can tell –” Tony shakes his head. “Whatever, I – I know you can’t turn it off. I don’t mind that you –”

He stops again. Fuck. This shit is hard. 

“It’s just weird,” he says finally. “I don’t like being the constant butt of the joke.”

“I wasn’t making fun of you. Quite the opposite, in fact. It’s incredibly endearing.”

The praise makes Tony’s face heat up. “Can we just move on?”

“Of course. I’m not sure what kind of rules you would enjoy, but I have some suggestions.” A beat. “Are you doing math?”

Tony shrugs and finishes the equation he started. “Helps me think. And I can take anything you dish out, so. Shoot.”

“Can you?” Loki asks, a little too unassuming. “What if I wanted you to always be naked in my presence? If I made you ask for permission to use the furniture or the bathroom? If I told you to kneel and kiss my feet every time I enter the room?”

Something twists in Tony’s stomach. He can’t tell if it’s horror or arousal, and the thought that it might be both is terrifying. “You – you’d like that?”

“Not constantly,” Loki says at once, soothing. “But in itself, yes, I do enjoy such things.”

“Right, because you’re a god and I’m just a tiny little mortal who should grovel at your feet.”

Loki grins and, for a second, Tony thinks that there are too many too sharp teeth. “I am a god, Anthony. And you are a mortal. I’m not above taking pleasure in that imbalance.” Before Tony can say anything, the grin turns into something a lot softer. “But my being a god doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with it. I don’t want you at my feet because you’re scared, or in awe of my powers. I want you there because you find peace and pleasure in being less, if only for a little while.”

Tony swallows around the sudden tightness in his throat. He starts another equation. “Less what?”

“Less in control,” Loki says. “Or less in status, in worth – there are many ways and reasons you might enjoy it. Some overlap, some don’t, and obviously not every reason works for everyone.”

Tony thinks about that for a minute or two, trying to make sense of the mess in his head. He’s reminded of kneeling next to Loki’s chair for the first time, Loki feeding him. Or about Loki’s hand on his eyes while Tony touched himself. Or, again and again, the cane. All of that has one thing in common – Loki with all the power, Tony with none. And he liked it. All of it.

“Do you like it?” he asks, suddenly curious.

“Switching roles, you mean?” Loki lifts a shoulder. “I usually don’t see the point of following orders when I could be giving them. Relinquishing control is –” He falters briefly, face going blank. “I enjoyed it with some partners, yes. But that was a long time ago.”

Tony gets the message that switching roles is off the table for the time being, and that Loki doesn’t like talking about why. He nods, already distracted by another though. “Me neither. Usually. I don’t know –”

Loki waits for a moment, then says, “You don’t know?”

“I’m really bad at following orders, too,” Tony says, grinning, trying to make a joke out of it even though unease is sitting on his tongue, making it hard not to stumble over the words. “Ask anyone. So I don’t know why I get off on it. When it’s you.”

The last bit is a little too soft, too real, and Tony immediately wishes he hadn’t said anything at all. He clears his throat and avoids Loki’s gaze. 

“Okay. So, uh. Are those your suggestions or…?”

Loki, to his credit, doesn’t prod. “No, I wouldn’t want to implement those things as permanent rules. Or –” He cocks his head to the side. “Well, the one about you being naked in my presence, maybe. I quite enjoy looking at and touching you, so clothes are a hindrance… then again, I would also like to see you in green.”

Tony snorts. “Possessive much?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

The low tone makes Tony shiver. Well, fuck. He swallows, mouth suddenly dry. “You could –”

No. Bad idea. Tony is about to backpedal and say nevermind, any other ideas? But too late, Loki is already looking at him expectantly. 

“Yes?” he asks. “Go on.”

Well, here goes nothing. 

“Choose,” Tony says. “Like – the other day.”

Slowly, a smile spreads on Loki’s face. “You would let me choose your clothes for you?”

The way he lights up at the idea makes Tony melt. Just a little. Fuck. “I guess? I don’t know how we’d go about the logistics and, fair warning, it might get on my nerves after like two days, but we can – uh. Try? I don’t know, is that even –”

“Yes,” Loki says, still grinning from ear to ear. “If you don’t enjoy it, we will stop, of course. For now, write it down, please.”

Tony has to smile a little, too; Loki’s grin is infectious. He puts down rule number two. “I can remember this without writing it down, by the way.”

“I know. We’re writing it down so you can’t pretend that you remembered something incorrectly.”

Yeah, okay. Fair. Tony stares at the sentences he wrote and feels himself blush again. Somehow, Tony Stark can do whatever the fuck he wants, forever and Loki choosing his clothes seem like the biggest paradox in history. He remembers wearing what Loki laid out for him the other day, though. That felt nice. Especially when Loki praised him for it after. 

Shit, what is he getting himself into?

“I would like it very much if you didn’t come without my knowledge.”

Tony looks up at Loki. It takes a second until the suggestion registers. Oh. “Well, looks like you always know about it, anyway, so.”

“Without you telling me about it either before or after,” Loki amends, smiling. 

“Telling or asking for permission?”

“What would you prefer?”

Tony tries to pretend that they are talking about something entirely boring. Like this is an SI meeting about delivering weapons to godless cities, nothing out of the ordinary, just. Normal stuff. 

Judging by the way Loki is smirking at him, he can tell that Tony is failing. He’s never been this flustered in SI meetings. His heart is beating too fast, because admitting all this shit is – god, he likes it better when Loki gives the orders and Tony can pretend he’s offended. 

“You’ve made me ask for permission before,” he says in the end, which doesn’t really answer Loki’s question. 

“Every time, if I recall correctly.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever.”

“If we turn that into a rule, it would mean you couldn’t touch yourself while on your own without asking first.”

Tony tries to decide what would be more humiliating, asking first or telling Loki about it – in intricate detail, knowing Loki – after. Both prospects make Tony think it’s suddenly too warm in the room. 

“Now, I can’t relate to this and I’m certainly not judging, but you seem to do it quite often,” Loki continues, voice still light. “I don’t mind that at all, but if you agree to let me decide whether you are allowed to or not, I will say no now and then.”

Tony puts the pen down and presses the heels of his palms against his eyes.

“Anthony?”

“Just me think for a minute.”

Loki stays quiet. He probably knows about every single shower Tony took since he’s here, the fucker. Tony sighs. Alright. What the hell.

He lets his hands sink. “Okay. Permission.”

“Are you sure?”

Tony is already writing. “Yeah. Next.”

Tony doesn’t look at him, but Loki’s smile is audible when he talks. 

“If I make you wait too long for relief, you will tell me. I’ll try not to let that happen, but these things aren’t always at the forefront of my mind, and I’d hate to leave you unsatisfied in a way you don’t enjoy.”

Tony glances at him. “Are you telling me you just forget about orgasms sometimes?”

“No, merely –” Loki sighs. “I can’t even remember the last time I had one, it doesn’t affect me either way. So sometimes I lose sight of the negative effect abstinence might have on others.” 

Tony is so hung up on Loki not knowing when he last got off that he can only shake his head in awe. They’re wired so differently it’s not even funny. “I’m not the biggest fan of abstinence.”

“Oh, we’ll see. I think desperation will suit you very well.”

Alright, moving on. “Right. What about touching you?”

Loki looks surprised. “Touching me?”

Tony thinks about the data he’s been collecting. “You don’t like it when I touch you below the belt. You definitely don’t like it when I get anywhere near your dick. You like making out, but apart from kissing everything is kind of hit or miss.”

Loki frowns. “I don’t mind you touching me below the belt as long as the belt stays in place.”

Oh. That’s good to know. “Okay, that’s – good.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. I want –”

“Yes? What do you want?”

Tony swallows and starts writing down numbers in the top right corner again. “I want to touch you, too. So far it’s just been you touching me, and that’s – I don’t know. It’s unfair.”

Loki needs a moment too long to answer. “Anthony,” he says then, “I’ve told you before, I don’t –”

Knowing what he’s going for, Tony shakes his head. “No, not – no funny business, just. Hell, you touch me when we’re reading all the time without it being, you know, sex. And you do like kissing, right? So, do I have to ask for permission to do stuff like that, or can I just…?”

Finally, Loki seems to understand. “You can always ask for permission, no matter what for. But you can touch me, yes. If I don’t enjoy something, I will let you know.” He frowns. “I noticed you always waited for me to initiate. I thought you were just shy.”

“Shy? Me? You said I couldn’t touch you without permission.”

Loki stares. “Did I? When?”

“Day ten.”

Loki blinks slowly. “Are you actually counting the days?”

“Uh. Yeah? Three months, remember? I’m just keeping track.”

A complicated expression wanders over Loki’s face, but it’s gone again before Tony can figure out what it means. “Well, I – I remember, but I didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to touch me at all. I’m sorry, I should have made that clear afterward.”

He’s being a little weird, but Tony doesn’t mind; he’s too happy about the thought that he can touch Loki in return without having to worry about being thrown out of the nearest window. 

“No worries,” he says, writing down touching Loki is okay as long as it doesn’t involve his dick. That needs a little more fleshing out, but Tony can do that easily by collecting more data. God, that’s something to look forward to. “What else?”

“How would you feel about kneeling during meals?”

Oh, god. “You mean – always? Every meal?”

“At least breakfast and dinner, yes.” Loki reaches out and runs a hand through Tony’s hair. “If you’re good, I’ll feed you. You like that, don’t you?”

The touch makes Tony realize that he’s been desperate for it the entire conversation. Contact, closeness. It makes this both easier and harder. “Yeah.”

Loki smiles. “Good. If I’m displeased with you for some reason, you’ll have to wait and eat after me. Yes?”

Loki’s voice alone is doing it for Tony. He thinks Loki could be reading the damned cookbook and Tony would get hard. Crap, now that that thought is in his head, listening to Loki read Tolkien will be a challenge. He’s got such a nice voice, is the thing. It’s just unfair. 

“Yes,” Tony says, breathless. “Okay.”

“Write it down.”

Tony does. Loki takes his hand away, which leaves Tony feeling oddly cold. Loki waits until Tony is done writing before speaking up again.

“I would like to sleep with you.”

Tony’s mouth falls open, because that’s the last thing he expected.

“Just sleep,” Loki adds quickly. 

“Right,” Tony says. He has to smile. “You had me there for a second.”

Loki smiles back. “I’m not going to make a rule out of it. I just want you to know that if you want to sleep in my room, you’re welcome to.”

Huh. Tony doesn’t really know what to make of that; he’s never really done the whole cuddling and sleeping together thing after sex. But the one night they spent together was – nice. So maybe… well. 

“Okay, I’ll, uh. Keep it in mind.”

“Excellent. I do want to see you first thing in the morning. Before breakfast.”

Tony looks back down at the list. “So you can – choose my clothes?”

“Yes. And you can help me dress, if you like.”

Tony frowns. “Would you like that?”

“Mh. Yes. I quite enjoy being served, but we’ll see if you enjoy it, too. Cooking for me isn’t too bad, is it?”

Tony shakes his head. He can admit to himself that he’s starting to like it, if only because it gets him that pleased smile. “Before breakfast, so, like, seven?”

Loki wrinkles his nose. “That’s frightfully early.”

Tony gives him an unimpressed look. “I’ve been getting up before seven all month to make you breakfast. You can deal.”

“We could also move breakfast back –”

“No, I said you can deal.” Tony writes it down. “I’m always up early, anyway.”

Loki sighs. “Well, if you are always up early.”

Tony pauses, looking up. “Sorry, do you need – more sleep? I didn’t mean –”

“No, it’s quite alright. I’m always tired, anyway, it doesn’t make a difference. In my room at seven, then.” Loki looks at the list as well, checking it over. “I think that is enough for now.”

“It’s just five rules.”

“Yes. We’ll see if they work for you, and if they do not, we will change them until they do.”

“Can we get rid of the one about asking permission to leave the house?”

Loki studies his face for a moment. “Why?”

“What, the rules upstairs aren’t for discussion?”

“No, you are right, they should be.” Loki still looks displeased somehow, but he doesn’t give Tony a chance to call him out on it. “I’m just asking why. If you truly hate it, we’ll get rid of it.”

“It’s demeaning.”

Loki raises his brows. “Kneeling during meals is demeaning, too, and yet you enjoy it.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it?”

“Well, do you like it or is it just to keep me from running away?”

“I don’t think you will run away,” Loki says. “And I like it, yes. I like having that level of control, but also having you ask is… pleasing. Especially because it’s so difficult for you.”

Wow. “That’s – kind of mean.”

“I am kind of mean,” Loki agrees. “But you don’t have to keep asking if you don’t enjoy it. I’d just like you to at least tell me when you leave and where you go, I would hate not knowing where you are.”

Loki’s tone rubs Tony the wrong way. “Why are you pissed now? I just wanted –”

“I’m not mad at you,” Loki says. “We should have spoken about this sooner. That is my fault; my apologies if you were uncomfortable. The beginning of this was… less than ideal.”

Tony stares at him. “No shit.”

“Is there another rule you want to remove?”

Tony thinks about it, then shakes his head. They worked out all the details at the start, the rules upstairs actually don’t bother him all too much. He’s grown used to them, really. Funny how that works. 

“Alright. Anything else you want to talk about?”

“Uh. No?”

“Very well. Then maybe you would like to go on your run now? I want to have you for myself the rest of the day.”

Now, that sounds promising. Tony has to grin. “Alright, sure.”

Loki smiles back, but it’s too brief. Tony doesn’t like it. He stands up and puts his hands on Loki’s thighs, leaning close. “Hey.”

Loki softens a little, eyes warming up. Tony flashes him a grin. Loki chuckles and spreads his legs, allowing Tony to step between them. He puts his hands on Tony’s hips and pulls him even closer, so close that their foreheads are almost touching. Tony stifles a gasp in reaction to the sudden proximity. 

“Making use of that permission to touch, I see,” Loki says, voice low.

“Do you mind?” Tony asks, breathless. 

“Not at all.” 

Tony lets his hands wander up Loki’s thighs, carefully, trusting Loki to tell him off if he doesn’t like it. “I don’t like it when you get that look.”

“What look?”

“The one where you’re not thinking about how much fun we couldl have but why we shouldn’t.”

“It’s not as much that we shouldn’t,” Loki says, hand moving to Tony’s lower back. “I just wish some things were different.”

“Yeah, well. Join the club.”

He glances at Loki’s lips, being very obvious about it, and of course Loki notices. Tony isn’t sure who leans in first, but they end up kissing, and as far as he’s concerned, the rest doesn’t matter. 

“You are making it awfully difficult to let you go,” Loki murmurs when they break apart, sighing. “Well, then. When you come back, take a shower, then come here and kneel.”

Tony grins. “Sounds good.”

At once, Loki’s hand is on the back of Tony’s neck, locking him in place. “A proper answer, please.”

Tony’s breath catches. “Yes, Loki.”

“Better. Go.”

He lets go of Tony,  and Tony gets moving. He feels like maybe he should be at least a little scared of what’s going, but he’s not, because –

Well, it’s fun. That’s all.

Chapter Text

27

Tony thinks he’ll never come to enjoy running. It clears his head a little, that’s nice, but it’s also fucking boring. He only does one round around the lake, because Loki didn’t tell him to do two, and now that he’s thinking about that it pisses Tony off – Loki kept ordering two rounds as a punishment for not asking for permission to leave the house properly, and now it feels like Tony cheated his way out of that. Which is ridiculous. He pushes the thought away.

When he comes back to the house, he wants to run to the library immediately and demand another make out session. But if he’s lucky, he’ll get one without having to ask if he follows Loki’s orders, so he goes upstairs to take a shower without checking on Loki first. 

He’s about to put a pair of sweatpants on after his shower when he pauses. 

Wait. 

He thinks about the list that is probably still on Loki’s desk downstairs. Tony agreed to let Loki choose his clothes – and wow, that’s a fucking surreal thought now that he’s on his own, but whatever, it’s all well and good, the problem is that they didn’t talk about the details. Stupid. Never agree to anything before knowing all the terms and conditions, that was the first thing Howard told him before shepherding Tony to his first ever meeting, and Tony has been keeping that in mind, which is why the list of rules on his bedroom door is so extensive in the first place. Details. 

So. Loki choosing his clothes, does that mean he’s not allowed to change? Or put on something Loki didn’t choose after a shower? Does the rule apply to only the mornings or every time Tony is naked? Well, Loki is a control freak and doesn’t do things halfway, so it’s probably the latter. And that means that he’s probably rubbing his hands in the library at this very moment, sure that Tony will put on some clothes without thinking.

Tony has no idea if he’s just being paranoid, but setting traps like that is just so Loki. And if he’s right, Loki’s face will be worth running around the house naked. 

He drops the sweatpants and leaves his room. He shivers a little in the hallway, but he’s sure the fireplace in the library will be lit. The door is open, so Tony walks right in. Loki looks up, and his expression tells Tony that god, yes, he was right, Loki is such an ass. 

“Nice try,” Tony says dryly and makes his way to the sitting area in front of the windows so that he can kneel on the rug. 

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Loki says innocently, gaze glued to Tony as he goes down on his knees. 

“Just to make sure,” Tony says sweetly, “we didn’t say I needed your permission to wear clothes, did we?”

“No.” Loki drops the act and grins. “But we did say I could choose them.”

And he didn’t choose the clothes Tony wanted to put on after his shower. He rolls his eyes. “You’re so predictable.”

“No,” Loki says, getting up from his place behind the desk. “You’re just clever.”

He comes over to Tony and cups his chin, tilting it up. Tony holds his breath; Loki looks like he’s in awe. Tony can’t remember ever being looked at like that. 

“You’re perfect,” Loki says, almost all air and no voice. 

Then, to Tony’s disappointment, Loki takes a step back and turns around, going to sit down in the armchair. “Come here.”

Tony moves to stand up, but Loki stops him at once. 

“No. Crawl.”

Tony stares, eyes wide, face going red. Loki just looks back at him, waiting patiently, as if he knows that Tony will obey in the end. There’s a flash of spite in Tony’s chest – well, if Loki wants him on all fours, it’s at least going to be the most fabulous thing he’s ever seen. So Tony starts crawling and holds Loki’s gaze no matter how difficult that is, every movement slow and deliberate. The intensity of Loki’s stare makes it hard to feel ridiculous, because Loki is so clearly pleased that there is a lot of heat in Tony’s belly. 

He stops right in front of the armchair, sitting back on his heels again. Loki leans forward, one hand on the side of Tony’s face, stroking his cheek. 

“Beautiful,” he says. “All that I hoped for and more. Now –” 

His hand slides up into Tony’s hair. A shiver runs down Tony’s spine, making his eyes flutter shut. Suddenly, Loki takes a fistful of Tony’s hair and pulls. Tony hisses in pain and shock, one hand flying up to grab Loki’s wrist. 

“Put your hand down,” Loki orders, voice sharp. “Look at me.”

Tony puts it on his thigh, nails digging into his skin. He looks at Loki, trying to hold still in order not to make the pull on his hair even worse. 

“If you keep behaving, I will reward you for being so good today. But set a toe out of line and you will pay a price. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Loki,” Tony says, breaths already ragged. He hopes that all the blood rushing to his cock at least means he’s not blushing for once. 

The grip of Loki’s hand softens into a caress again. “Good boy. So good, my darling. Come here.”

Tony’s brain is a little slower than usual – he needs a moment to figure out that Loki wants him to sit on his lap. As soon as Loki raises a brow, impatient, Tony moves. His knees feel a bit weak, so that is another reason he is glad when he can straddle Loki’s thighs right away. Most other reasons have something to do with those thighs being very warm and steady, just like Loki’s chest. God, Tony wants him so much he can’t fucking breathe. 

“There we go,” Loki purrs, a hand stroking down Tony’s back and then pulling him closer, until he’s all but pressed against Loki’s chest. “Perfect. Color?”

“Green,” Tony says as soon as he finds his voice. It’s a little too quiet, wavering, but maybe he just can’t hear himself properly over the rushing in his ears. “Can I – touch?”

“If you like.”

Oh, Tony does like. He touches Loki’s chest, fingers sliding over the silky fabric of his shirt. He rests his forehead against Loki’s and before he knows it they are kissing, soft and slow. The arousal steps aside for a moment, making room for something else. Loki is so gentle with him. The contrast to the hair pulling earlier makes Tony dizzy, and he just wants to sink into it all. His throat is tight.

Loki chuckles after breaking the kiss, fingers drawing lazy patterns on Tony’s back. “Such a clever pet, always thinking three steps ahead. I bet you are the brightest person in the room wherever you go.”

Tony looks at Loki, into his eyes, and it’s too much. He can tell that Loki means it, he isn’t just saying shit to get something from Tony. Loki smiles, small but sharp, and his other hand wraps around Tony’s throat, a gentle threat that makes Tony freeze.

“Maybe one day I’ll manage to make you stop second guessing everything and just do as you’re told, hm? You’re so lovely like this.”

Tony doesn’t know how to handle the warmth in Loki’s voice. He squirms, hoping he’s not actually going to cry. “Loki –”

“Quiet.”

Tony shuts up, looking at him.

“Good boy,” Loki repeats, cupping Tony’s face again. “Gods, I want to hit you. You don’t mind, do you?”

Tony sucks in a breath. The way Loki says that, like he knows the answer and is just asking for show, makes Tony’s cock jump. He shakes his head.

“No,” Loki agrees. “Of course you don’t. Keep your eyes on me.”

Tony swallows hard, but obeys. He sees it coming out of the corner of his eyes and can’t help but flinch even before Loki slaps the side of his face. Loki’s other hand takes hold of Tony’s chin and brings him back into position.

“Do you like that?” Loki asks, almost casual. 

The stinging pain went straight to Tony’s cock. It’s already leaking at the tip, probably making a mess of Loki’s shirt. For a change, Loki’s shirt isn’t dark green or black, but a pristine white. Every stain will show. It takes every ounce of willpower Tony has to not start grinding against Loki in earnest. 

“I asked you a question, pet.”

Tony sends a small glare at him. “Yes, Loki. I like it.”

“Tell me why.”

“I – I don’t know.”

“Oh, I’m sure such a clever boy can come up with something.”

“I – shit. I guess I just like how it –”

Loki cuts him off with another slap, harder than the one before. Tony’s breath stutters, the pain blooming on his skin is a shock like he jumped into cold water. He looks at Loki, incredulous of the fact that Loki actually slapped him mid sentence. 

“Yes?” Loki says sweetly. “You were saying?”

Tony opens his mouth, but doesn’t manage to say anything. Loki chuckles and strokes his cheek again, scratching the burning skin with a nail in a way that can’t possibly be accidental. 

“Oh, I love that look,” he says, quietly, almost like he’s talking to himself. “The betrayal. It’s stunning.”

Well, fuck him, too. Tony would keep glaring at him if his cock wasn’t fucking throbbing. “You’re being mean again.”

“Oh? Am I really being mean when you enjoy it so much? Look at how hard you are, pet. Anyone watching would believe I’m doing you a favor.”

Before Tony can say anything, Loki slaps him hard across the face a third time. Tony gasps. Suddenly, his eyes are wet, burning. 

“Oh, darling,” Loki murmurs, leaning in to touch their foreheads together again. His voice turns both warmer and sharper somehow. “Are you going to cry for me? Already?”

Tony tries to breathe. He shakes his head, but doesn’t get his tongue to work. 

“Shh. It’s just me, Anthony. Just me. Nobody else will know. Alright?”

Tony nods and leans against him. Loki hums softly and pets Tony’s hair. 

“You can, if you need to,” he says quietly. “Cry. I would like that very much.”

Somehow, Tony isn’t surprised to hear that. He grins, crooked. “In your dreams, maybe.”

Loki’s answering laugh sounds delighted. “We’ll see, love. You’re halfway there already.” He glances down between them. “No wonder, of course, given how desperate you are. And to think I get to control how much pleasure you get from now on –”

He kisses Tony again, and now it’s neither soft nor slow; it feels like he wants to devour Tony whole. His hands keep Tony from moving away – not that he would even want to if he could – and Tony is hyper aware of it all, of Loki’s hands on his back and his tongue and his body beneath him, and abruptly, Tony thinks that if he wanted to, Loki could crush him. Even sick he is a lot stronger than Tony, and even sick he is… dangerous. 

That should probably not make Tony harder. 

He whines when Loki pulls away, but Loki shushes him. He keeps touching Tony, his sides, his back, his thighs – and finally his ass, digging his fingertips into the flesh. Tony can’t help but moan. Loki just smiles, all knowing smugness, as usual. Tony can’t take it anymore, he needs to touch himself now, and he’s about to ask when Loki moves his hand between their bodies and curls his fingers around Tony’s cock. 

Tony’s hips jerk. “Fuck.”

“Shh.” Loki grips Tony’s cock tightly, thumb sliding over the wet head. He smirks. “You’ll make a mess of me either way, I might as well try to save my shirt.”

The only reply Tony manages is a rather unintelligent hngg. Loki laughs in a way that makes white hot pleasure explode in Tony’s guts. Loki’s fingers keep moving, playing with Tony’s cock like it’s some goddam fidget toy. It’s brilliant and at the same time not nearly enough. Tony lets out a choked groan, grasping Loki’s shirt. 

“Fuck, Loki –”

“Yes, darling?”

“Please.”

“So needy.” Loki brushes his lips against Tony’s jaw, smiling. “Very well, pet. Move.”

Tony isn’t sure what he means at first, but when Loki’s hand stops moving, Tony’s hips thrust forward automatically, searching more friction. Loki makes an encouraging noise. Tony curses again, but he’s a little beyond caring about being embarrassed, so he starts working his hips and fucking Loki’s tight fist. 

“There you are,” Loki says softly. “Good boy. A little dry, perhaps?”

There’s an odd tingling feeling, then the inside of Loki’s fist is suddenly perfectly slick. Fuck, that’s better. Still, though, does he ever learn his lesson? ”Fucking idiot –”

Before he can continue, Loki’s hand is around his throat again, making him freeze in place. There is a little bit of pressure, this time, and even though it’s not restricting his airway, the threat is there and it’s delicious. He whines, because Loki also took his hand away from his cock. 

“Excuse me?” Loki says, misleadingly soft. “I didn’t hear that correctly, did I?”

“Sorry,” Tony breathes out. “Sorry, please, can you –”

Loki’s mouth twitches, amused rather than angry. To Tony’s relief, he returns his hand to Tony’s cock. “Worry later, Anthony. Just let me take care of you now, yes?”

Tony nods as well as he can with Loki’s hand still around his throat. Hesitantly, he starts rolling his hips again, and Loki doesn’t stop him. He just looks at his face, eyes flickering back and forth as if he wants to take in even the tiniest detail. Tony will end up addicted to being looked at like that. His mouth falls open, panting, not enough air in his lungs. The tight, slick pressure of Loki’s hand around his cock is perfect, but it’s more the knowledge that it’s Loki touching him that makes Tony lose his mind. He wants to come into Loki’s fist and watch him lick it up after like he always does, like he’s hungry for every part of Tony, even the ones others would just throw away. He whimpers; he’s almost there, almost –

“Sweet thing,” Loki says, and his hand starts to move again, finally stroking in earnest. Tony gives a full body shudder in reaction. “Come for me, pet. Give it to me.”

The order makes Tony moan. He moves in time with Loki’s strokes, staring at him even though his vision is getting blurry. 

Loki takes his hand away from Tony’s throat only to slap him again. “I said come.”

Tony does. Everything goes hazy for a few seconds, and it stays hazy even when the pleasure fades. He’s struggling to breathe, but Loki holds him still and tight, and after a short while, Tony’s breaths even out. He blinks; his cheeks are wet. Fuck. So much for that, then.

Loki makes a pleased noise and wipes Tony’s cheek with his thumb, then sticks it into his mouth. Tony is far too lightheaded to be weirded out by that, so he just watches Loki swirl his tongue around the pad of his thumb. His cock twitches tiredly at the sight. He sighs and leans against Loki’s chest, resting his head on Loki’s shoulder. His face still stings, and he’s sure that for a change his cheeks are red from the slaps and not from shame. The feeling is strangely satisfying. 

“Alright, darling?” Loki asks softly, rubbing Tony’s back. “Do you need anything?”

“M’cold.”

Loki hums and leans to the side, obviously trying not to jostle Tony too much even as he reaches over the armrest of the chair. He sighs. “Damn. No, don’t move.”

Tony yawns, quite happy to obey. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see a few green sparks – at first he thinks it’s a trick of the light, but then Loki is holding one of the blankets from the basket that should have been out of reach.

Tony huffs. His voice is much too raspy, but he finds he doesn’t really give a damn. “You’ve got to stop using magic for me.”

“Believe me,” Loki says, wrapping the blanket around Tony’s shoulders, “if there ever is a time I can afford it, it’s now.”

He sinks a little further into the armchair, his hand on Tony’s back under the blanket. Tony feels too good to argue, so he just snuggles close again and closes his eyes. He doesn’t fall asleep, he just basks in the warmth and tries not to think about the – well, everything. It’s Loki who breaks the silence eventually, still stroking Tony’s back. 

“Are you asleep, pet?”

It’s almost inaudible, obviously he’s trying not to wake Tony in case he is. Tony moves a little, pressing his nose against Loki’s neck. God, he could get used to this. 

“No,” he says, then sighs. “I can get up –”

“I quite like having you naked in my lap. No need to move on my account.”

Tony groans, but the annoyance is mostly for show. He’s getting used to that nickname, too. Ah well. If Loki is alright with Tony using him as a chair, Tony is definitely not going to move. He’s far too comfortable. 

They stay like that for a while. Loki plays with Tony’s hair and strokes his back and for once, Tony is happy doing absolutely nothing. That lightheaded feeling fades after a while, and he starts to notice that the position is getting a little uncomfortable. He sighs and stirs, still reluctant to move. 

“Are you with me?” Loki asks finally, soft and very, very pleased. 

“Where else would I be?”

Loki hums. “Did you like that? Or was it too much?”

“Do we have to –”

“Yes.”

Tony keeps his face hidden in the crook of Loki’s neck. “I liked it.”

“The slaps?”

“Fine.”

“And the choking?”

Tony grins against Loki’s skin. “Could’ve squeezed harder.”

Loki chuckles. “It’s quite risky, unfortunately. A little too much pressure in the wrong place can do serious damage. I don’t like to do it with humans, you are so terribly fragile. Let me see?”

“Huh?”

“Your throat.”

Frowning, Tony lifts his head, and Loki puts his hand on Tony’s throat again, this time a lot more gently. Checking for injuries. Tony has to laugh. 

“Lokes, I’m fine. You didn’t really squeeze at all.”

“I know,” Loki says. He glances up at Tony’s face, smile returning. “Still.”

It’s about hurting him again, Tony realizes. On purpose versus losing control. Tony’s wrist is perfectly fine by now, but Tony doubts Loki has forgotten about it.

“I’m okay,” Tony says, more firmly this time. “Honestly. It was – fun.”

“It’s supposed to be.”

“Did you, uh. Was it – good? Worship-wise?”

Loki’s face goes soft. “It’s not just about worship. You know that, yes?” He ruffles Tony’s hair, the gesture so disarmingly affectionate that Tony can’t even be offended. “Your prayers are sweet, but I would want you just as much without them.”

Tony can’t look at him. He fiddles with the top button of Loki’s shirt. It’s open, revealing pale skin. “You said –”

“Yes?”

“You said I’d only get that if I was –” Shit, this is embarrassing. He swallows and pushes through. “Good.”

“Ah. My hands, you mean?”

Tony nods. 

Loki cups his face and catches his gaze. “You were, Anthony, and you are. So good.”

“You don’t have to –” Tony smiles, shaking his head. “You know, lie. I know I’m not –”

“You are quite possibly the most intelligent human I have ever met. You’re brave and witty and haven’t bored me even once so far. You care, so much, and you have a good heart.” He gives Tony a pointed look. “Now, you’re also rude and arrogant and way too belligerent for someone so tiny –”

“I’m not tiny.”

“-- but even so, do try to believe that when I say you are good, I mean every word.” Loki grins, leaning in to kiss Tony’s cheek. “And you are also incredibly beautiful when you blush.”

“Shut up.” Tony pushes Loki away, climbing out of his lap. “I’m gonna go make lunch.”

“Wait a moment.”

Tony sighs, but waits. Loki stands up as well and goes over to his desk to take something that’s been waiting on the backrest of the chair. It definitely wasn’t there yet when Tony went for his run. He narrows his eyes, but when Loki offers it to him, he realizes it’s just a sweater.

Green, to nobody’s surprise. 

“Is this yours?” he asks, unsure whether to be appalled or just amused. He’s leaning towards the latter. 

“I didn’t want to go through your things without your permission.”

His innocent tone isn’t fooling anyone. Tony gives him a dirty look, but takes the sweater and puts it on. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it. You being a possessive bastard has nothing to do with it.”

“Nothing at all,” Loki agrees, seemingly distracted by taking in the sight in front of him. 

“What about pants?”

“I don’t think so, for the time being.”

Tony rolls his eyes. But, fine, if Loki wants him to walk around with his dick out, he’ll get what he wants. The sweater is made of thick wool and, funnily enough, covered in a nordic looking pattern. It’s too big, Tony has to push up the sleeves.

“Pity,” he says. “I’ve never seen you wear this before. I’d rather have something that smells like you.”

Loki’s eyes flash. Before he can say or do anything, though, Tony shrugs and turns away to leave the room. 

“Anything special you want for lunch?”

“You’re a terrible tease, do you know that?”

“Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it, sweetheart.”

*

Tony opens the oven and decides to be cautiously optimistic. It smells good, at least. It looks good, too. Not as pretty as the picture in the book, but at least one step above edible. 

He takes the tray out of the oven and puts it on the counter. He grabs a fork and tries one of the adorably tiny potatoes that appeared in the pantry today – a bit bland, but not bad. Hopefully the chicken is okay. 

He keeps expecting Loki to walk into the kitchen – it’s been a while since he just sat around waiting in the dining room, and Tony misses his presence in the kitchen, sitting on the counter and bantering with Tony like they have been doing it all their lives. That would help against Tony’s nervousness. And isn’t that an odd thought? True, though. 

Somehow, walking into the dining room is more difficult now that he knows what’s coming. There is also real excitement, though, boiling in his stomach. He’s been wearing Loki’s sweater all day, and now he’s going to kneel at Loki’s feet during dinner without even having to ask for it like the last time, so that’s. Good. Or something. 

Loki is indeed waiting. Tony’s breath stutters when he sees the pillow on the ground next to Loki’s chair. Loki grins at him and Tony can’t help but grin back despite his nerves. 

“It doesn’t smell like anything burned,” Loki says, leaning forward to inspect the tray Tony puts on the table. “Miracles do happen.”

“Fuck you.”

“In your dreams, certainly.” 

Tony snorts, realizing that Loki is parroting Tony’s own words back against him. He puts the plates, the glass and the bottle of water in front of Loki. Preparing two plates felt redundant, but he didn’t want to pile two portions onto one, either. He wonders if there is an etiquette for this kind of thing – beyond the one they make up themselves, that is. 

 Maybe that’s the point. 

He kneels on the pillow, and Loki smiles at him. Tony’s stomach flips. Ah, fuck. Somehow, this evolved into a full blown crush when he wasn’t looking. That’s gonna be a problem. 

“Alright?” Loki asks. 

Well, whatever. Tony grins. “Definitely.”

Chapter Text

28

At half past six, Tony knocks at Loki’s door. Nothing happens at first, so he knocks again, a little louder. 

“It’s open.”

Loki’s voice is muffled both by the door and sleep. Tony opens the door and walks right in, already grinning. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

Loki’s head appears from the tousled blanket and pillows on the bed. He reaches for the nightstand to pick up his phone and blink at the too bright screen. He makes a disgruntled noise and drops his phone, lying back down. 

“Didn’t we say seven?”

“We also said I could sleep in your bed if I wanted to.” Not allowing himself to hesitate, he crawls into the bed and under the blanket. It’s blissfully warm. “Problem?”

Loki pulls the blanket over them both and glares at him. “You just wanted to wake me up early.”

“You’re fucking adorable,” Tony says, without thinking. 

Loki sighs and closes his eyes. “I know. It’s a burden.”

Tony smiles and pushes his cold feet against Loki’s legs under the blanket. He gets no reaction, so he pouts. Loki grins without even opening his eyes and returns the favor, only when he presses his foot against Tony’s legs, it’s colder than ice. 

Tony jumps. “What the –”

Loki is already laughing. Tony grabs one of the pillows and throws it at his face. 

“You asshole, what the fuck was that?”

“I’m sorry,” Loki says, tossing the pillow away again. He’s still fucking giggling.  “I couldn’t resist.”

“You don’t sound very sorry,” Tony drawls, but he can’t be pissed for very long because Loki rolls on top of him and kisses the complaints straight off his lips. 

It’s reassuring that even gods suffer from morning breath. Tony doesn’t even mind, he likes having Loki on top of him too much. Sadly, Loki keeps it short, sitting up to stretch after just a moment. 

“Where is my sweater?”

“In my room,” Tony says. “Took it off at some point. Too warm. Don’t tell me that’s not allowed.”

“It is.” Loki’s gaze wanders over Tony’s body, shameless. “You seem quite content without clothes.”

Tony shrugs. He’s never been self conscious about his body; he knows he’s hot as fuck. It’s a little weird, and it would be more pleasant in summer, probably, but it doesn’t bother him. That probably also has something to do with Loki’s reaction – he likes it, yes, and he looks his fill, but he’s not sleazy about it.

“You haven’t lost weight, have you?”

The question catches Tony by surprise. Loki’s hand is on his chest, stroking down to his stomach. “Uh. No, I don’t think so? Might’ve gained a pound or two, actually.”

Loki frowns. “You have been going running every day. More than you should, maybe.”

“Yeah, and I’ve also been eating three meals every day.”

Loki understands at once. “I see. You probably lived on coffee alone before you came here.”

Tony decides not to comment on that. “At any rate, I should probably go running more.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Loki says. “I would like to come along today, if you don’t mind.”

“Running?”

“Yes. Well –” Loki turns his back toward Tony, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Maybe we could just take a walk. I’m not sure if I can run just yet.”

Tony’s stomach sinks. “Yeah, okay. Hell, I’m glad I can skip a day.”

Loki looks at him again, frowning. “You dislike running?”

“Eh, it’s fine. Just boring. I like kickboxing better.”

“You spar?” Loki’s eyes are bright. “Oh, it’s been ages since I was in a good fight. Maybe in a few weeks – how are you with knives?”

Good god. “I’m, uh. More of a gun guy?”

Loki honest to god pouts. He stands up. “Ah, well. Bad taste can’t be helped, I suppose.”

“Bad taste? You haven’t even seen my guns, baby.”

“Oh, I do think I have. Wait here.”

Tony honestly hoped they would kiss – and mainly cuddle, not that he would ever admit that openly – a bit more, but apparently that’s not on the agenda. He’d complain, but he is too busy staring at Loki in his sleeping clothes. He’s wearing those pyjama pants again, and a simple t-shirt that shows off his arms. It’s a little tight around his midriff, too, and Tony feels like a fucking teenager again. He can’t remember the last time he was drooling over someone this badly. 

“Praying,” Loki says, just as he disappears into the bathroom. 

“Shut up.”

“No.”

Loki closes the door. Tony sighs and waits. After a minute, there’s the sound of the toilet flushing. Gods do piss, then. In fact, they seem to function pretty much like humans as a whole, they just have some extra quirks. Tony doesn’t know if he likes that or not – it would be easier to hate them if they were entirely different, powerful beings who don’t piss or shit or pass out after overworking themselves. 

Loki is in the bathroom for a few minutes. When he comes out, his hair is a lot less messy, but he’s still yawning. 

Tony realizes that showing up half an hour too early might have been a dick a move. 

“You should go back to bed,” he says. “Sorry, I’ll – tomorrow I’ll be here at seven.”

Loki waves him off. “Being near you will help more than sleep, anyway.” 

Tony likes that. Oh god, Tony likes that. That’s bad. It’s such a shitty thing to feel, too, because he shouldn’t be glad that Loki is sick, even when it means that he wants Tony around. Fuck, it’s not that he wants Tony around, anyway. Sure, he finds Tony entertaining, but that will stop soon enough. It always does. 

“Are you planning to move at some point today?”

Realizing that he’s been sitting on the bed thinking unpleasant thoughts for longer than he should have, Tony gets up and follows Loki through the door on the other side of the room. It’s a dressing room, and Loki is currently using it for its intended purpose. 

Tony’s brain stops thinking depressing shit and zeroes in on the fact that he can see Loki’s very naked, very nice chest. Sadly, Loki is already in the process of covering it up. Tony watches him close the buttons of his shirt. God, since when is somebody putting clothes on this sexy?

“What’s wrong?”

Tony yanks his eyes away from Loki’s hands to look at his face. “What?”

“You were brooding about something.”

“What?” Tony says again. Maybe this is the reason nobody ever believes he’s actually quite eloquent. 

Loki smirks. “Maybe I should take off a piece of clothing every time you get upset. It seems to be a good distraction.”

“Good idea. Can I help?” Wait. “Hey, didn’t you want me to help you dress?”

“You didn’t seem to be in the mood,” Loki says, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. He arches a brow. “Why, were you looking forward to that?”

Kinda, yeah. Not as much because of the whole serving business Loki was going on about, but because Tony thought he would get to touch Loki again. And see more of him. 

“You could take that off and I could help you put it on again?”

“That eager, are we?”

Tony’s grin is slipping and he can’t stop it. “Yeah, well.”

Loki narrows his eyes. He comes over to Tony and, without further ado, hugs him. Tony goes still, because while obviously it’s not the first time they are this close, it’s the first time they didn’t have sex before. Is it sex? Well, their version of sex, anyway. 

Tony takes a breath. His forehead drops against Loki’s chest, and his hands slowly come up to cling to Loki’s sides. It’s a real, proper hug, torsos touching and everything, and Tony doesn’t even try to remember the last time he got one like this. That would just make him feel even more pathetic.

“I’ve been up since three,” he says, muffled by Loki’s shirt. 

Loki’s hand comes to rest on the back of Tony’s head. “What have you been thinking about?”

“Nothing much,” Tony lies. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

“You could have come to me earlier. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Tony wanted to. But he couldn’t bring himself to wake Loki up in the middle of the night like a toddler who just had a nightmare; Tony Stark just doesn’t do shit like that. He was fine. He is fine. 

He pulls away. “Yeah, okay. Next time, maybe.”

Loki doesn’t seem convinced. He strokes a hand through Tony’s hair, a gesture Tony should be used to by now since Loki does it so often. It still feels fucking good every time. 

“Next time,” Loki agrees. “For now, let’s find you something to wear, hm?”

Tony rolls his eyes and nods. He expects Loki to pull out some of his own clothes, but he takes Tony’s hand and pulls him back to Tony’s own room. The hand holding is new, and Tony tries to convince himself that it feels ridiculous. It doesn’t. 

“I see you have finally discovered what the closet is for,” Loki says, letting go of Tony’s hand to rifle through the few clothes filling said closet. 

Tony shrugs. He lived out of his bag for the first week or two, then he figured he might as well unpack properly. 

“You really didn’t bring many clothes, did you?” 

“Honestly I thought you’d throw me out again after a week.”

Loki looks somewhere between amused and unhappy. “Despite the deal?”

Tony is not going to tell him what Howard said to him before he left. He’s not going to tell anyone, ever. It’s bad enough the words are rattling around in his own head nonstop, he doesn’t need anyone else thinking about them and feeling sorry for him, too. 

“I almost got kicked out of college in my second week,” he says instead, grinning. “And that was despite all the money dad was shoving down their throats.”

Loki pulls Tony’s jeans out of the closet, then boxer shorts. “What did you do?”

Tony does not think about the fact that Loki is choosing his underwear. It’s hard to make a big deal out of it when Loki is acting like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

“They wouldn’t let me enroll in a certain class because they wanted me to take the foundation course first, so I knocked out the system and held a couple of labs hostage for three days.”

“What class?”

Grinning, Tony zips up his jeans. “Advanced computer systems security.”

Loki laughs. He pulls out Tony’s MIT hoodie and hands it over. “And you were fourteen? I’m sure that took some courage.”

“Nah.” Tony puts the hoodie on. “I swear my dad wanted to kill me, but he made sure I could stay, anyway. I knew he would.” He snorts. “He did make me live in the dorms instead of the apartment I was supposed to get. But that’s how I met Rhodey, so. All good.”

“Yes, you mentioned you shared a room.”

“Mh. He hated it at first – I mean, he was eighteen and had to live with a kid, plus I was the biggest little shit known to man. I guess I grew on him.”

“You tend to do that,” Loki says, taking Tony’s hand again to drag him out of the room. “I’m starving. Make those eggs again.”

Tony frowns, going through the stuff he made for breakfast in the last couple of days. “The scrambled ones with mushrooms? Were they that good?”

“They were, yes.”

Huh. Maybe Tony is getting the hang of this cooking thing. 

*

“It’s fucking freezing, you can’t go outside without a jacket.”

“You don’t have a proper jacket, either.”

“Yeah, because I was an idiot and didn’t bring one, you have lots of clothes upstairs, I bet there’s a coat, too. Actually, I saw like, at least three coats this morning. Why do you have so much leather stuff, anyway? Do you have a thing for leather or something? Point is, you’ll freeze your balls off like this.”

Loki is, as usual, completely unbothered by Tony’s rambling. He even pushes up the sleeves of the sweater he put on as if it’s too warm. “My balls will be fine, but they appreciate your concern.”

“Fine. Just don’t come whining about it to me when they fall off.”

“I’ll try to restrain myself,” Loki says. He pauses. “Are you warm enough?”

Tony doesn’t deign that worthy of an answer. He throws up his hands and walks out of the front door. Honestly. His leather jacket might not be suited for the cold November air, but Loki threw a beanie and a thick scarf at him earlier – both green, because Loki must have skipped the day in kindergarten where they got introduced to other colors. At least the gloves aren’t green, but black leather. 

Loki catches up with him easily, thanks to his freakishly long legs. He scowls a little in reaction to the blinding sun. “I wouldn’t want you catching a cold. I fear you’d be insufferable.”

“You’d have to make me chicken soup. Oh, I bet you make a mean chicken soup. What do I have to do to get you to make me soup?”

“Ask, of course.”

Right. Rule number two. And twenty-four. Tony rolls his eyes. “You won’t really give me anything I want if I ask for it, so cut the crap.”

“I won’t? Interesting. Maybe you should conduct another experiment to find out whether that theory is correct.”

“Dude, don’t test me. I’ll make an Excel sheet and everything. Let’s go this way.”

He grabs Loki’s hand and pulls, and, wonder of wonders, Loki follows easily. Tony doesn’t want to walk around the lake clockwise, because the terrain ascends that way around, and maybe Tony worries too much but he doesn’t want to take any risks. As far as he knows, Loki hasn’t even left the house in months. 

“We’ll have the first snow soon,” Loki says, frowning up at the sky. “A little early this year.”

Tony huffs. He doesn’t want to talk about the weather. “Why do you live all the way out here?”

“Because it’s all the way out here, and most other things are not.”

Yeah, Tony isn’t sure why he even asked. “But you have a place in the city, too.”

“Yes. We will stay there over New Year’s.”

Tony nods; he expected that. He knows where Loki’s place is, the press camps in front of the building every year before and after the party. As a kid, before he even went to school, Tony used to press his nose to the window in his bedroom and stare at the caravan of cars heading to the house down the street. Weird, that they never saw each other but were less than a mile apart for a few days every year. 

“I don’t like New York, either,” he says into the silence. 

“You don’t?”

Tony shakes his head. “It’s gonna make me sound like a privileged prick, because of course it’s better than living somewhere godless, but it’s just – I preferred Boston.”

“Because you were away from home?”

That obvious, huh. “Yeah.”

“You don’t enjoy your work, then?”

“I love my work,” Tony says, burying his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “I love – working. In my workshop. I don’t love press conferences or business meetings or… well, all that.”

Loki sighs. “Politics.”

Tony is about to agree when he realizes that Loki actually sounds wistful. “Don’t tell me you like politics.”

“How else is one supposed to enjoy oneself at court?” Loki drawls. “You either learn to enjoy politics or you’ll end up everyone’s laughing stock.”

Tony thinks that does not bode well for himself. “You – you really are a prince, aren’t you?”

“I have the title, yes, but it isn’t worth much in reality,” Loki says. “When you volunteered, I heard Stark Industries was struggling.”

Now that’s a fast deflection if Tony’s ever heard one. Fine, though, if Loki doesn’t want to talk about himself, Tony won’t make him. At least not now. 

“Yeah.”

“Have you found the mole yet?”

“The mole?”

Loki gives him his oh please, don’t act dumb look. “Someone must have been selling your weapons underhand, otherwise they wouldn’t have found so many in that terror cell. I would suspect someone high up in your hierarchy; powerful enough to pull the necessary strings and arrogant enough to think themselves untouchable.”

“There was a whole ass investigation, you know. They didn’t find anything.”

“So that person is very good at what they do.”

Oh, Howard would kill him if he knew Tony is talking about this. Tony can’t see the harm, though; it’s not like he even knows anything that could get them in more trouble. 

“Dad and his partner turned the entire fucking company upside down,” he says. “They didn’t find anything, either. Obviously everyone still thinks we’re covering it up and there’s this big discussion about war profiteering, as if SI hasn’t been doing that since the fucking fifties. People are still buying weapons, of course, but dad –” He swallows down the sour taste in his mouth. “Guess he doesn’t like losing his patriotic hero image.”

“I remember him when he was young. We talked on New Year’s Eve, once, when he was – around thirty, maybe. You look a lot like him.”

“Yeah, spitting image, I know.”

“Except the eyes,” Loki says. “I have to stay away from him on New Year’s Eve.”

“Good luck, that’ll be real difficult. Why?”

Loki is quiet for a long time. “He makes you small.”

Great. Tony’s mood was already at rock bottom when he woke up after like four hours of shitty sleep, and to top it off he can now feel like a loser, too. 

“Yeah, well,” he says, voice tight. “We can’t all pack our things and move to another planet.”

“As it turns out, even that is not a reliable solution.”

“Don’t tell me your father is an asshole, too.”

“I don’t have a father.”

Tony glances at him. He’s pretty sure Thor is the son of Odin, and if Thor and Loki are brothers – then again, Loki said he only grew up in Asgard, and that he was a different kind of alien than the others. 

Now, Tony can’t claim to understand Asgardian family dynamics, but that shit sounds messy. 

“I upset you again, didn’t I?” Loki asks. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, sure you didn’t.”

They walk in silence for a while. It’s not windy, the lake is quiet, the view is perfect. The air is cold, but bearable so, and the beanie is a little too warm, actually, after a while Tony pulls it off and stuffs it into the pocket of his jacket even though that means his hand doesn’t fit next to it anymore. 

He just blurts it out, in the end, without thinking. As usual. 

“Do you think I’m weird?”

Loki looks at him, but doesn’t seem all too stunned by the question, like it’s a perfectly normal thing to ask. “By whose standards?”

Good question. “No idea. Everyone’s?”

Loki watches him, not judging, just thinking. Hopefully. “Is this what you were thinking about all night?”

Tony doesn’t deny it. “It’s just, I don’t – it’s not. Like me.” Ugh. Full sentences, Stark, come on. “I’ve never gotten off on stuff like that before. It’s creeping me out.”

“Ah.” Loki considers Tony for a moment, then he smiles – not one of his predatory grins, just small and warm. “Never? Have I awakened something in you?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “No. Don’t be so pleased with yourself.”

“So not never, after all.”

Well, not with somebody else, at least. Tony, in general, wants to try everything and gets bored quickly, and he has watched his fair share of porn, so of course he’s gotten off to things that weren’t just sweet missionary in the dark. He always liked it a little rough in bed, too. So what if sometimes, in the last few seconds before coming, he thinks about things he doesn’t usually think about? Those last few seconds don’t count, anyway, that’s just common knowledge, right? He definitely never actively wanted to kneel at the feet of someone who hits him and calls him pet. 

Shit, maybe Loki did awaken something in him. 

“My dad already thinks I’m a fuck-up because I’m bi,” he says, trying to turn it into a joke. It doesn’t land. “I don’t know what he’d say if he knew I’m also a pushover.”

“Please. If there is one thing you are not, it’s that.” 

Tony doesn’t reply. Loki takes Tony’s hand and doesn’t let go again, and after a few seconds Tony realizes that they are holding hands . He looks at Loki to see if he’s pranking Tony or something, but he’s not smirking or anything. Insane. 

Tony doesn’t take his hand away. 

“There is no shame in enjoying the loss of control,” Loki says. “It doesn’t make you weaker.”

He sounds completely certain about that. Tony still doesn’t really – well, understand, but Loki knows all about this stuff, right? He has all the answers. Absolutely. 

“And the pain?” Tony asks. “The –”

Loki shrugs. “It’s a sensation like any other, in the end. The way I see it, it doesn’t reflect on your personality in any way. Then again, people have thought I was a degenerate my entire life, so by everyone’s standards, I am probably not the right person to ask.”

Tony takes a second to be righteously angry at everyone who made Loki say shit like that with the sort of lighthearted resignation where the lightheartedness is mostly an act. Then he thinks about what Loki means. 

“So you’re saying that by everyone’s standards I’m weird, but by your standards I’m okay?”

“Precisely.”

Tony can live with that. 

*

“How are you so good at this,” Loki says, watching in stunned horror as Tony makes a move that – if Tony’s guess is correct – crosses at least three of Loki’s plans. 

“I was one of the super cool chess club kids in high school,” Tony says. 

“I have been playing this game for decades.”

Tony rests his elbows on the table, grinning up at Loki. “But never against me.”

Loki folds his hands under his chin, narrowing his eyes at the chess board. They have been playing for nearly two hours now, and Loki isn’t making the mistake of underestimating Tony again. No, he is taking Tony seriously, and if Tony’s honest, that’s a fucking nice feeling. 

Loki wins this match, in the end, but Tony likes to think he at least gave him a run for his money. Tony tidies up the chess pieces and wants to suggest another round, but he’s cut off by a yawn. God, he’s tired. 

“I think that was the sign we should call it a night,” Loki says, amused. 

“You’re just scared because I’ll kick your ass next time,” Tony shoots back. But he gets up from the ground and stretches, thinking that lying down somewhere soft and warm is a really good idea right now. It’s nearing midnight, and Tony has been up since three. He doesn’t feel as bad as he did in the morning, but he’s exhausted. 

“You seem very certain about that,” Loki says, standing up from the armchair. “Would you like to bet again?”

“Sure. But no cheating.”

“I don’t cheat.”

“You moved the pieces two times when you thought I wasn’t paying attention.”

Loki is quiet for a second. “Oh, you noticed.”

Tony rolls his eyes and follows Loki out of the library. Scratch what he thought earlier, Loki is clearly still underestimating him. “Sure did.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was getting bored, anyway, so I didn’t mind making a new plan.”

“You’re not offended?”

Loki looks at him like he’s expecting Tony to throw a fit. Tony raises a brow. “Honey, it’s chess. Low stakes. If it was Uno, I’d be pissed.”

Great, now Loki just looks like he does not get the joke. “Uno?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know Uno.”

“Should I?”

“Uh, yeah? God.”

“Is it something of great importance for your culture, then?”

“Are you messing with me? You are, right?”

They bicker back and forth until they arrive at the door to Tony’s bedroom. Tony stops, hesitating. Loki does the same, but thankfully he doesn’t let the awkward silence stretch for long. 

“Would you like to sleep in my room?”

Yes. Definitely. Tony keeps hesitating. “Are you sure? Because I’m not a very quiet sleeper. I mean, I don’t snore, I just –”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Loki says, stopping Tony’s rambling before he can really get going. “Go and get ready for bed. Wear whatever you wish. Ten minutes.”

Tony huffs, pretending to be annoyed at the string of orders. Loki just smiles and heads for his bedroom. Tony looks after him for a moment, fighting his smile, and then goes to change into his sleeping clothes. He brushes his teeth and takes a piss, and then makes his way to Loki’s bedroom. 

The door is open, and Loki is already sitting cross-legged on his bed, typing on his phone. He looks up when Tony comes in. 

“And your brother really believes you don’t know how to use a phone?” Tony asks, approaching the bed. 

“I obviously do not,” Loki says innocently, finishing whatever he was typing. 

“Obviously,” Tony says. “Did you update your Facebook status?”

Loki smirks and puts the phone on the nightstand. “No. My contact in New York thinks I should attend a meeting.”

“Sounds like you disagree.”

“Passionately.”

Tony sits down on the edge of the bed, unsure what to do. “Fury?”

Loki looks at him, surprised. 

“What?” Tony arches a brow. “My dad’s been working with SHIELD for years. I know Fury is the one handling the, you know, godly stuff. I spoke to him once, I think he wanted to throttle me after like three minutes.”

“Did you get his eye to twitch?”

“I thought he was having an aneurysm.”

Loki laughs. He pushes the covers back and makes himself comfortable. When Tony doesn’t move, Loki gives him an encouraging look, so Tony lies down next to him, keeping some distance between them. It’s quiet. He’s tired, but too tense to even close his eyes. 

After a few minutes, Loki says, “This is not going to work.”

Tony grits his teeth and wants to sit up, because yeah, of course it isn’t, but then Loki just grabs him and pulls him close so that Tony’s back is pressed to Loki’s chest. Tony holds his breath for a second. Loki wraps his arm around Tony’s middle. One of his cold feet is touching Tony’s leg. 

“Better?”

Tony reminds his lungs that they are supposed to be working. He wriggles around a little until he’s comfortable and then, yeah. Okay. “Yes?”

Loki sighs, content. His nose is buried in Tony’s hair, and he makes an odd noise. Tony needs a second to make sense of it, then –

“Stop sniffing me.”

“You’re going to use my shampoo from now on.”

“Right, okay. Do I get a say in that?”

“No,” Loki says, then yawns. “Good night.”

Tony rolls his eyes and then closes them. It’s probably just his imagination, but he thinks he can feel Loki’s heartbeat where he’s snuggled up against Tony’s back. He’s warm, and Tony will definitely overheat at some point during the night, but right now – right now, this is good. Too good, really, a part of Tony wants to push Loki away and get back to the other side of the bed, where he doesn’t have to feel like someone cracked him right open to watch all the loneliness pour out of him. 

“I’ve never done this before,” he says into the dark, just sleeping, he thinks, he’s never done that with anyone before and he’ll be terrible at it, he’ll toss and turn and breathe too loudly and this will be the first and last time he sleeps in this bed. 

Loki doesn’t reply. He’s already asleep, breaths slow and quiet. He must have been exhausted. Tony listens to him breathe and, after a moment, puts his hand on Loki’s. It’s resting on Tony’s stomach, slack, and Tony curls his fingers around Loki’s and holds on too tightly, but Loki doesn’t wake up. 

He sleeps through the night. 

Chapter Text

29

“Anthony,” Loki says, tone light and almost sing-song. “If you can’t hold still, I’ll be compelled to restrain you.”

“I am holding still.”

“Your feet haven’t stopped moving once.”

“Are you shaving my toes or what?”

Loki gives him an amused look before returning his attention to the task at hand. “I would hate to cut you by accident.”

He’s so full of shit it’s not even funny. Tony snorts. “If you cut me, I won’t believe for a second that it was an accident.”

Loki grins, but says nothing. He wields the straight razor like an expert, quick and steady. Tony almost doesn’t feel the touch of the blade as it glides over neck and jaw, but when he touches the skin while Loki cleans the razor, the stubble that was there before is completely gone. And that almost feeling – the closeness of the warmed up blade, the second of holding his breath when it moves over his skin, the way it never cuts the skin but could, so easily – is almost worse than a stinging, bleeding cut. Or maybe better. 

Tony is sitting on the counter right next to the sink, still in the clothes he slept in. He glances at Loki, and Loki catches his gaze, still smiling. The contact lingers, and Tony‘s entire body heats up in reaction. He was hard when he woke up earlier, still in Loki‘s arms, but before this, the arousal was a pleasant afterthought, easy enough to ignore. But now Loki is so very close, and his grin was so nice when Tony said, yes, fine, they can try this, and his skill with the razor is just intimidating enough to be breathtaking. Tony‘s cock is straining the shorts he slept in. There is no way Loki hasn’t noticed, but so far he’s pretending that this is a perfectly G-rated situation. Tony is fine with that, at least for now. The buzz of intimacy is enough of a thrill without adding sex to the mix. 

“Stop moving,” Loki says, and this time it’s an order. 

Tony stops kicking his feet. Loki smiles and steps between Tony’s legs, making him spread them a little more. He touches the razor to Tony’s neck again. Loki obviously takes his time, but it still doesn’t take long until he’s finished, and Tony wishes Loki had dawdled a little more. Not that he’ll admit that out loud. 

“A beard would suit you well,” Loki says, handing Tony a towel. 

“You think so?”

“Yes.” Grinning, Loki cups Tony’s smooth jaw and leans in. “Will you let me do this again tomorrow?”

“And the day after that, and the day after that?” Tony says. It’s not a bad thought, but he knows himself well enough; he’d probably get impatient and fed up with it after three days. “No. Once a week, tops.”

“Very well,” Loki says, and then he kisses him. 

It leaves Tony breathless and reeling, wanting more, but when he tries to lean back in as soon as Loki pulls away, Loki chuckles and puts a hand on his chest to push him back. 

“I would like to take a shower before breakfast,” he says. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Tony suppresses a whine out of sheer willpower. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” Loki says, tilting his head to the side. “Why, did you have other plans?”

The innocent tone makes Tony narrow his eyes. “No.”

“Well then, go and get dressed. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Right. Tony hops off the counter, not without tugging his shirt down in a futile attempt to hide his erection. He let Loki touch his neck with a really sharp blade, for fuck’s sake, and he enjoyed it a lot, so Loki’s prayer antenna must already be going haywire, anyway. So what if Tony is a little desperate to feel Loki’s hands on him again? Or more than a little. Fine, maybe a lot. 

He closes the door of the bathroom behind himself, aware that he’s pouting. With any other guy, he would know what to do, but Loki’s disinterest in sex has him feeling out of his depth. Tony knows he can rile Loki up by appealing to his possessive streak, and he definitely likes it when Tony obeys orders, but what is he supposed to do apart from that? Really just ask, like Loki has been going on and on about? Yeah, right. Tony feels just a little weird asking for something he knows Loki isn’t interested in. Sure, he enjoys watching Tony get off, but he’d be fine without it. He doesn’t need it. He probably thinks Tony is some kind of degenerate pervert who only thinks with his cock. 

Tony is still in Loki’s bedroom when he hears the shower in the bathroom turn on. He deliberately does not think about Loki naked in the shower, water running over that chest Tony has only gotten peaks of so far – not at all. Not thinking with his cock, thank you very much.

Loki set out clothes for him while Tony was in the bathroom on his own earlier, and Tony finds them on the bed – Loki’s clothes again today, a green shirt that smells like him and soft pants that are too long; Tony needs to roll them up at his ankles. Underwear seems to be overrated, which Tony thinks is unfair. He already likes wearing Loki’s clothes too much as it is. 

He goes downstairs and makes breakfast. Loki shows up not much later, hair still damp and curling slightly as it dries  – also unfair, what the fuck – and Tony really wants to kiss him again, but he doesn’t. They talk about books instead, and keep talking about books during breakfast, even while Tony is kneeling at Loki’s feet and thinking about sucking Loki’s cock, which he shouldn’t be thinking about for several reasons, but mostly because it’s not going to happen and that’s fine, it’s fine, he’s not going to be an asshole about it. 

That rule about asking for permission to touch himself sucks ass. 

“More?” Loki asks when the plate is empty, his voice low, thumb stroking over Tony’s lower lip. 

Tony shakes his head and then, without thinking, flicks his tongue against Loki’s thumb to lick it clean. He made those scrambled eggs Loki liked again, so the hand feeding got a little messy, but Loki doesn’t seem to give a damn about that, so Tony doesn’t, either. The pad of Loki’s thumb tastes like pepper and basil. Something clenches low in Tony’s guts; his brain shuts off for a second or two. Fuck. He really wishes sucking Loki off was an option.

“Good boy,” Loki says, withdrawing his hand after a moment. “Do you need anything else?”

Tony licks his lips. His throat locks up, he shakes his head. “Nah, I – I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”

He sounds amused, which only makes it worse. Tony glares. “Yep. Can I get up?” 

“If that is what you want, yes, by all means.”

Tony gets up and brings the dishes to the kitchen. He spots his distorted reflection on the surface of the tea kettle – flushed crimson red, of course. He does the dishes by hand only to give his cock a few minutes to calm the fuck down. It’s barely been two days since he got off; he’s gone through dry spells a lot worse than that. Probably. At some point. Maybe when he was fourteen? He’s kind of used to having sex when he wants to, as soon as he wants to. It’s not like there is ever a lack of willing participants; usually he enters a club and is making out with someone pretty five minutes later. 

He could just ask, of course. Hey, I’m really horny, can I please do something about that? Tony feels a flash of shame just thinking about it. He’s not going to get on his knees on permission to jerk off; this is still his body, for fuck’s sake. He can do whatever he wants with it. See fucking rule number one. Tony Stark can do whatever the fuck he wants, forever. Yes. Including what I tell you to do, Loki’s voice says in his head, with that stupid smug smirk of his. And don’t you want to ask? 

Shut up. No. 

“Are you quite alright, pet?”

Tony nearly drops the plate he’s been drying for about five minutes now. Thank god for his good reflexes. “Uh. Yes, sure.”

Loki is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking very well entertained. “You seem a little distracted this morning.”

Oh, Tony wants to throw something at him. “I’m fine.”

“I’m glad,” Loki says. “Are you coming to the library?”

“Yeah, in a moment. I just need to –” Have a sexual crisis for a second here, fuck off. “Get this done.”

Loki hums and, mercifully, fucks off. Tony sighs and puts the plate in the cupboard. God, he’s hopeless. 

31

Okay, so Loki is obviously playing some kind of game. Tony thinks it might be called “let’s tease Tony until he explodes”. The rules are simple. Loki does not initiate any funny business. He still touches Tony whenever possible. He rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt in an agonizingly slow manner that makes Tony’s mouth water. He makes a few innocent remarks that might as well be innuendos. He pretends not to notice that Tony is off the charts horny, even though Tony would be miserable at hiding it even if prayers weren’t a thing. 

And, most importantly, Loki waits. 

He’s not fooling anyone, Tony has seen right through him, he knows what Loki is doing. And what he is waiting for. Thing is, by now Tony has surpassed shame and flown right into spite. If Loki wants to play, fine. 

They can play. 

“I want to go running,” Tony says a while after breakfast, interrupting Loki right in the middle of a chapter about the differences between how various alien races (Aesir? Vanir? Tony still feels like they are reading the fucking Silmarillion) digest worship. 

Loki looks up from the book, surprised. Tony can’t blame him; since they started reading one of the books about worship, that has been the only thing helping him keep his sanity. Loki probably picked up on that, too. “Now?”

“Yeah. Can I go or do we have to finish story time first?”

Loki’s eyebrow twitches upward. “It’s fine. You may choose what to wear. Two rounds.”

That only spurs Tony on further. He gets up from the sofa, rolling his eyes. “Sorry, your highness. Next time I’ll ask nicely.”

“I doubt it.”

Tony flashes him a grin – too sharp around the edges – and leaves the room. Then the house. It’s cold outside, but that’s okay. He stretches his legs a little before he goes running, and makes it about halfway around the lake before he stops. He leaves the path and makes his way closer to the shore of the lake. It’s steep here, water sloshing gently against the stones two or three feet under him. He can see the house from here, smoke rising up into the clear sky; the fire in the library is burning. 

Tony leans against a tree where he can keep a mostly clear view of the house. He takes a breath. Yes, it’s cold, but he barely feels it; heat is already rising to his face, settling low in his stomach. He feels like he’s going to regret this in an hour. Loki might whip out the cane again – not for Tony’s feet this time, hopefully, he really doesn’t think he can take that a second time, not when he knows going in how intense it will be. Shit, he’s a coward. Maybe that’s the problem. 

His thumb is already hooked over the waistband of his pants, but he hesitates. Then he thinks about Loki’s smugness, and the teasing, and he pushes his pants down far enough to pull out his cock. The light touch makes him shiver; touching himself after days of waiting for it is pure bliss. He leans back against the tree, the back of his head colliding with the bark a little harder than he planned. His chest is already heaving. 

He thinks about Loki, of course.

He thinks about Loki very hard. 

*

When he gets back to the house, he tries to convince himself that he isn’t sneaking in. It feels like it, though, like he came home too late from fucking the one guy, and his dad will be waiting right behind the next corner to rip him a new one. The thought makes him shudder. No, thank you.

He quietly takes off his shoes in the hallway and heads for the stairs to go up to his room and take a shower. He looks down the hallway first; the door to the library is open, Loki is probably in there. He keeps peeking over the railing while he takes one step after the other, waiting, expecting Loki to come out of the library with the cane already in his hand. 

“My, you really are scared, aren’t you?”

Tony flinches and looks up, realizing in an instant that he’s been looking in the wrong direction.

Loki is standing on the upper part of the u-shaped staircase, arms resting on the railing. He is not smiling. 

“Fuck,” Tony says, trying to get his breathing under control. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Poor thing. It will teach you to look up next time, hm?”

The condescension makes Tony frown. His heart skips a beat or two, and at the back of his mind, the by now familiar uh oh, this is a predator we do not want to deal with instinct sounds the alarm.

Shit. 

“You’re pissed, huh,” he says, crossing his arms. “What, did you really think I’d follow those rules of yours?”

“I did, yes.”

“Stupid of you.”

“Yes, perhaps. I suppose I just thought you could do well.”

That hits its mark. Tony clenches his teeth and stares up at Loki, stubborn. 

Loki comes down the stairs. Tony manages to resist the urge to take a step back, get away from him, but only barely. He presses his back against the railing, his whole body tense, and stops breathing altogether. 

Loki stops, just three steps away. He looks at Tony for a moment, frowning. 

“Hm,” he says then. “Yellow.”

That throws Tony off track. He sucks in a breath and blinks. “I – what?”

“I do not want you truly scared of me, pet. Am I overdoing it?”

Tony’s brain needs a moment to catch on. Finally, the spike of panic subsides. The pressure in his chest eases, and while his heart is still beating too fast, he doesn’t feel the need to run and hide behind the nearest tree anymore. Loki is still standing right there, but it’s just Loki, the guy who puts too much sugar in his tea and gets excited about clever chess moves. 

“Wait, are you – you can do that shit on purpose?”

“I’m sorry?”

“The – you – the fear. You can –”

“Oh,” Loki says. “Yes, well. Your kind generally do not like things that look human but are not. It’s quite easy to tap into that, if you know how. And I do.”

Tony knows what he means. It’s the feeling Tony has several times before, when he thinks that what he sees isn’t all that’s there, like Loki is more than he lets on. Like the eldritch show in Loki’s bedroom after Tony hit his head, only on a much smaller scale, invisible, but impossible to miss. 

“Oh,” Tony echoes, making himself breathe out again.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Loki says, and now that his tone is soothing Tony realizes how much he’s been waiting, hoping for that. “Never again. Do you believe me?”

Tony thinks about his bruised wrist, long healed by now. He nods.

“Good.” Loki grins. “Then we can continue. Yes?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Loki nods and walks past him down the stairs. “Come along.”

Just like that, the stern tone is back. Tony huffs and rubs his chest, trying to get his shit together. What the hell. 

“Now.”

Tony startles and follows Loki down the stairs and into the library. He’s a little less nervous now, oddly enough. 

“Close the door.”

Tony does. Loki is already standing behind his desk, one hand on the solid wood. The cane is still nowhere to be seen. 

“Come here. Kneel.”

Tony sighs and crosses the room. “Want me to take off my clothes, or…?”

“I don’t care either way.”

Tony almost ducks his head. Loki sure knows how to make him feel like he fucked up royally. He leaves his clothes on and slowly kneels next to Loki’s chair. He doesn’t know what else to do with himself, so he grasps the fabric of his pants to keep from fidgeting. 

Loki sits down and turns the chair toward Tony just slightly, so that he can face him better. The creak of the chair against the wooden floor is too loud in the otherwise silent room. “Tell me what you did.”

“Can’t we just get to the main event?”

“No, we cannot,” Loki says, almost a drawl. “And when we do, it will be my decision, not yours. I won’t repeat myself.”

“You know what I did.”

“I do.”

“It’s not like it’s a crime, I just –”

“Anthony. Last chance.”

Tony swallows. He looks away briefly, shifting his weight. “I jerked off and came. It was really good. Happy?”

“With you? I’m afraid not. Not at all.”

Tony digs his nails into his thighs. “Yes, well. Nothing new under the sun.”

“Oh, darling. I had, and have, every faith in you. It’s you who is so insistent on proving me wrong.” 

Tony doesn’t reply. He stares at a spot somewhere next to Loki’s knee. 

“I don’t mind the obstinacy,” Loki continues. “I don’t mind the spite. What I disapprove of is the dishonesty.”

“The –” Tony looks up again, offended. “I didn’t lie to you.”

“You did. I asked you several times if there was anything you needed, and you said no. Every time. Instead of telling the truth, you broke a rule to get my attention. Did that help, I wonder? Do you feel better now?”

It seems to be a genuine question. Tony’s mind runs and leaps and spins, but can’t find a good answer. He doesn’t feel good, that much is certain. 

“We will discuss this further later,” Loki says, a little softer. “For now, I do think you should be punished, both for lying and touching yourself without permission. Do you agree?”

Tony closes his eyes for a moment. He breathes, in and out. Loki just waits. That is also a genuine question, Tony realizes. Does he agree? If he doesn’t, this stops. At once. Color? He knew he would get in trouble. He did it in order to get in trouble. There are many bad things that can be said about him, but that he doesn’t follow things through isn’t one of them. 

“Yes, Loki,” he says, voice tight. 

“Thank you. Now, to make this clear – I know this is new and difficult for you, and I am not angry. I do not think any less of you. I do think you can do better. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Loki.”

It sounds too much like a question, and Loki pauses for a moment, looking at him. “I mean it.”

“Yeah, I – I know.”

“Good. Get up on your knees.”

Tony’s ass has been resting on his heels until now, but now he lifts himself up, wary, so that his knees carry all his weight. He’s not sure if this is what Loki means. “Like this?”

“Yes. Straighten your back. Hold out your hands, palms up.”

Tony does. He moves his knees further apart a little so that he feels a little steadier. 

“Higher,” Loki says. “Arms straight, please.”

Tony doesn’t think he’s going to like this. Still, he holds his hands up a little higher and straightens his arms. He feels ridiculous, and probably looks ridiculous, too, but Loki seems pleased. 

“Good boy. Stay exactly like this. Do not speak unless you need to call a color. Thirty minutes. I will add five minutes every time you misbehave. Do you understand?”

Tony lets his arms sink. “Thirty minutes? That’s pointless.”

“Yes,” Loki agrees. “Do you understand?”

“Well, yeah, but –“

“Lovely. Thirty-five minutes.”

Wow. 

Tony glares and lifts his arms again. 

“Thank you,” Loki says dryly. “Color?”

“Green. Just start the fucking timer, then.”

Loki raises a brow. Forty minutes? Shit.

“Nevermind,” Tony says. “I’ll shut up.”

“Wise choice.” Loki looks at his wrist watch. “Starting now, then.”

And then he just turns to his desk and starts reading a fucking letter. Tony stares up at him, but Loki doesn’t look at him, not even briefly, not even once. He just reads. 

Tony waits, but nothing happens. He can’t see Loki’s watch, and it’s the only clock in the room. His back already starts to hurt a little. It’s too straight, too stiff. His arms are fine, but he knows it won’t take long until the position gets straining. He can deal with that, though, he can ignore discomfort however long he needs, what he hates is that he’s just kneeling here, ignored, in a fucking stupid pose, because he –

Well, because he fucked up. Within this game they are playing, he fucked up, and he fucked up on purpose. Because he knew it would make Loki progress from the teasing to something more. Tony didn’t really plan on this, though. God, he’s disappointed it wasn’t the cane. He really is. 

The realization makes his head spin. 

“Forty minutes,” Loki says. 

Tony looks at him; Loki is still looking at the letter. “What? I didn’t –”

“Forty-five.”

Tony presses his lips together and tries to kill Loki with a look. It doesn’t work, Loki at least seems to notice, because he finally returns Tony’s gaze. 

“Your arms, pet.”

Tony looks at his arms and sure enough, he has lowered them a little without even noticing. He brings them back into position. Loki nods and turns away again, back to his desk. He opens a drawer and pulls out the nice letter paper he uses. He picks up his fancy mountain pen and starts to write. 

You’re not serious, Tony wants to say, but he knows that Loki is serious, and the only answer he would get would be fifty. So Tony keeps his mouth shut, and waits. His knees start to complain about the hard floor beneath them. He has to focus on holding the position, on keeping his body tense enough that it doesn’t move. His lower back aches. He tries not to think too much, but he is – I do think you can do better – terrible at that. 

Loki’s pen scratches over the paper in a quiet, steady rhythm. He does glance at Tony regularly, checking if he moved, and Tony feels himself perk up every time, involuntarily. His face burns. It’s impossible to ignore why he is doing this. It’s pointless and boring and uncomfortable, and still he doesn’t stand up and walk away. He could, but he doesn’t. He stays, because Loki told him to. He can’t even convince himself that it’s sheer spite, he isn’t just doing this to prove to Loki that he can do this, just you wait, because it’s not only that. 

Loki keeps checking his watch. Tony counts – about every thirty seconds, Loki’s gaze flickers to his wrist. I would lose track of the time otherwise, he said once, and now it’s very clear that he won’t. He’s keeping a very close eye on the time, and he will end this as soon as the last minute is over. He’s not half as focused on his letter as he pretends, and it calms Tony down. He watches Loki check his watch, again and again and again, and even though he could count the minutes very easily, he doesn’t. He doesn’t need to; Loki is doing that for him. 

He breathes. He listens to the soft scratching noises of Loki’s pen. The pain spreads in his back and up to his arms, muscles desperately wanting a change of position, but he tries his best to hold still. He’s starting to feel lightheaded, his vision blurs at the edges; this is a tunnel, and he can do nothing but stay in place and keep his gaze firmly fixed on Loki. Everything else fades, bit by bit. 

“Fifty,” Loki says, voice almost soft. 

Tony swallows around the lump in his throat. He got too distracted by listening to Loki write. He lifts his arms up higher again. 

“Color, darling?”

Talking is annoyingly difficult. Tony swallows again. “Green.”

“Do you want to know how much time is left?”

Tony shakes his head. Loki smiles and continues to write and check his watch. Eventually, Tony only registers that Loki is doing something else because the scratching of the pen stops – at first, Tony thinks the time is up, but Loki just grabs a book from the desk. 

Instead of opening it to read, he places it on Tony’s hands. Tony stares at it. A spark of anger lights up and then fizzles out again. It’s one of Loki’s magic books, thick and heavy. Tony lifts his arms once again, adjusting to the weight. His shoulders protest, and his arms are already shaking. It's difficult to keep the balance. He can’t remember ever feeling every inch of his body like this.

Loki doesn’t say anything. He just picks up his pen again, clearly expecting Tony to just take it – and he does take it. He can, even though he wavers once more, swaying a little too far to the right, arms sinking. It earns him five more minutes.

Fifty-five. 

When Loki sets the pen aside again, Tony expects him to grab another book. Instead, Loki picks the book up from Tony’s hands and puts it back on the desk. Tony can’t suppress a sigh of relief, still pained, he wants to move his arms more than anything. Loki gets up from his chair and crouches in front of Tony, already touching his arms. 

“Let go, pet. You can move.”

Tony needs another second or two to remind his limbs how to, but then he lets his arms sink. The relief is instant, but he’s still aching all over. 

“Good boy,” Loki says, digging his fingers into the tense muscles of Tony’s upper arms. The touch feels so good that Tony fears he’ll burst into actual fucking tears. “Very good, my darling. Are you ready to come up? I’ll help you.”

Tony nods, and Loki just puts his hands under Tony’s arms and lifts him up, like he weighs nothing. He sets him down on the desk and touches him – presses his hand against several points on Tony’s back, massages his thighs, squeezes his knees. Tony gets tired of that after a moment and lets himself drop forward, resting his head against Loki’s chest. Loki chuckles and buries a hand in Tony’s hair, making him shiver from head to toe. 

“Alright? Does anything feel numb?”

Tony shakes his head and wraps his arms around Loki’s middle. His whole body is tingling and sore after being so tense for so long, but the pain is almost satisfying. 

Loki rests his chin on top of Tony’s head and lets him for a while. Tony basks in it, but eventually he gets itchy. He clears his throat – even that is sore – and tries to get his brain to come back online. He feels like he might just fall asleep sitting if he doesn’t move. 

“I wanna take a shower.”

“Of course,” Loki says at once, running a hand down Tony’s back. “How about a bath, hm?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Can you walk?”

“Sure I can fucking walk,” Tony mutters, but his legs do feel a little wobbly when he slides off the desk. Thankfully, Loki is right there to make sure he stays on his feet. Ugh. His knees aged about fifty years in the last hour. 

“You’re fine,” Loki says gently, an arm curled around Tony’s waist. “That was a lot, wasn’t it? What is 78 multiplied by 43?”

“3.354,” Tony says at once, then, “Wait, what the fuck? Why?”

“Just checking,” Loki says, amused, and lets go of Tony only to take his hand. “Come on, then.”

As it turns out, Tony can walk without problems. It helps a lot, actually. Loki doesn’t let go of Tony’s hand until they are in his own bathroom. Tony remembers sitting here and watching Loki pass out. This time, Loki doesn’t look pissed or worried at all. His hands are gentle as he helps Tony out of his clothes. The water is already running. It’s blissfully hot when Tony finally gets in. 

“Would you mind if I came in too?”

Tony stares at Loki, who sat down on the edge of the tub. “Huh?”

“It’s big enough. I can also stay here, of course.”

“Oh. No, you can – I mean, sure. If you want.”

Loki beams and stands up. Too late, Tony realizes that Loki getting into the bathtub very much includes Loki getting naked. His eyes widen when Loki takes off his shirt and tosses it aside like it’s not at all a big deal. Which it isn’t, probably. Tony still looks away, focusing very hard on the mountains of bubbles that are floating on the water. Nice bubbles. Very nice, yes. 

“Move forward a little, please.”

Tony does so on autopilot. Loki sits down behind him, the water rising slightly, and Tony ends up sitting right between two unfairly long legs. Behind him, Loki sighs, then wraps an arm around Tony from behind and pulls him back against Loki’s chest. 

“Are you feeling shy?” Loki asks, amused.

Asshole. “No,” Tony says, stubborn, and makes a point of leaning back against Loki’s chest and putting a hand on one of his legs for good measure. 

Shit, this is nice. 

“Comfortable?” Loki asks. 

Tony just hums and closes his eyes. He decides to postpone freaking out about Loki’s shocking nakedness; he can deal with that later. For now, he just wants to enjoy this warmth. 

Loki chuckles and puts a hand on Tony’s stomach. He keeps petting him – washing him, really – all over, and Tony doesn’t complain.  He’s sore thanks to both his earlier run and the punishment, and the warm water and firm touches are pure bliss. Only when Loki makes a move to start washing Tony’s hair, Tony tenses. 

“I can do this myself, you know,” he says, too late. 

“I know. I want to.”

“Why?”

“I enjoy taking care of you.”

Tony sighs and gives in. He closes his eyes again and lets Loki wash his hair with the shampoo Tony has already been using in the last few days – Loki’s shampoo. Loki is so gentle with him that Tony’s eyes start to burn. He’s really glad that Loki is sitting behind him. 

“It’s getting longer,” Loki says when he’s done, brushing Tony’s wet hair out of his face. “I can cut it for you, if you like.”

Tony really doesn’t care about the length of his hair right now. “Maybe.”

“How do you feel?”

“I’m fine.”

“Yes?” Loki pulls Tony close again, leaning back against the bathtub. “I’m proud of you. You did very well.”

“I didn’t. That’s why you made me play tin soldier for an hour.”

“Well, yes, but I know that was difficult to do, and you accepted it beautifully. I thought you would fight a little more.”

Tony’s hand returns to Loki’s knee, thumb drawing circles on the pale skin. It’s nice how solid Loki feels, how real. 

“I didn’t want to,” Tony says. 

It’s true. After days of wanting to be close to Loki and not knowing how to go about it, even the punishment was a relief – because he did feel close to Loki the entire fifty-five minutes, intimately so. Even though Loki didn’t even touch him. 

“No?” Loki prods. Wanting to hear more. 

Tony thinks he can tell him more, at least as long as they aren’t face to face. “It felt good. The attention. The – correction. I guess.”

“I’m glad.” Loki nuzzles the back of Tony’s neck. “I noticed you went down.”

“Down?”

“You call it subspace. It has happened before, as far as I can tell, but not quite this intensely, considering I didn’t even touch you.”

Tony frowns at the bubbles. There are less of them than when he got in, but the water is still hot. He feels like Loki might be making sure of that with magic. When he thinks about it now, the fifty-five minutes are blurry. He remembers feeling floaty despite the discomfort, time losing all meaning. He didn’t even get bored. Subspace. That’s a joke, right? But Loki doesn’t sound like he’s joking, and it doesn’t feel like one, either. Because, yes, Tony has had the same feeling before, hints of it – especially during the stunt with the cane, and the time Loki’s hand was over his eyes while he touched himself.  

He hesitates. “Is that – good?”

“It’s lovely to watch,” Loki assures him, voice warm. “I feel a similar thing sometimes – it scared me a little in the beginning, I must admit.”

Wait, what? “Scared? You?”

Loki laughs and starts petting Tony’s chest again. A few seconds pass until he speaks. “I was young. My lover at the time – my first – liked it quite rough, at least now and then. I was horrified when I noticed that I only actually enjoyed myself when I could hurt her.”

Tony needs a moment to unpack that sentence. “You – slept with her?”

“Oh, yes.” Loki snorts. “Did you think I was a virgin?”

“Uh. I wondered?”

“I’m not. I was curious to try everything, but the more I tried, the less I understood why everyone liked it so much. At first I thought it was only because I wasn’t attracted to women, which would have been bad enough already, but I didn’t enjoy it when I found myself a man, either. At least not like he did. I ignored it for a long time.”

Tony’s stomach sinks. It’s hard to imagine a younger Loki, confused, scared. He remembers what Loki said once, where I’m from, my preferences are less acceptable.

“That must have –” Tony tries to come up with something comforting to say. “Sucked.”

Yeah, he’s not good at this.

“Quite,” Loki says. “But I started to explore a little more, and by pure chance I found someone who enjoyed being hurt. The first time I whipped him, I felt high for weeks after. I came to the logical conclusion that I must be a monster.”

Woah, hold on. Tony nearly breaks his neck trying to look at Loki properly. “You’re not a monster.”

Loki shrugs. “It was not – acceptable. I knew that I –”

“Fuck, no. Don’t tell me you give a damn about acceptable. You’re not a monster. You’re a weird god and a bit of an ass sometimes, but you’re not – no. He enjoyed it, right? The whipping?”

“Very much.”

“See? So there wasn’t anything wrong with it. With you. Fucking hell. You know, I’m really starting to think that Asgard just sucks. That’s why you all came down here, to get away from there and live out your funny little kinks. Good for you, honestly.”

Loki wraps his arms tightly around Tony’s waist and pulls him even closer, kissing his cheek. Tony blushes in a way that has nothing to do with the heat of the water.

“What?” he asks. Not like he’s complaining about the show of affection, but still. 

Loki shakes his head and doesn’t explain. Instead, he says, “I did figure things out, eventually. I made my peace with the fact that sex wasn’t for me, but I could enjoy other things – control, intimacy. Inflicting pain, when it was wanted. It wasn’t that bad.”

“It sounds bad,” Tony says, stubborn. 

Loki hums. “Yes, well. I lost sight of such things for a long while, anyway. When I came to Midgard, I did realize that my preferences weren’t all too unusual.” He pauses. “But I know it can be scary, that is all I meant to say.”

“I’m okay,” Tony says. “Seriously.”

“Good.”

They are quiet for a while. More bubbles disappear. 

“Anthony,” Loki says finally.

“Mhh.”

“I do want you to ask when you need something from me. I’ve been waiting for you to ask for days – or to call red.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “You knew what I wanted. Could have just given it to me.”

“That is not what we agreed on, is it?”

“I don’t know why, but I’m pretty sure you only stick to rules when they suit you.”

“Naturally.” Loki’s lips brush Tony’s cheek again. “Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Tony says. “I guess I felt – too needy.”

“Oh, but I like it when you’re needy.”

“Do you really?”

“Of course.”

Tony is silent for too long. Of course Loki connects the dots. 

“Were you worried I wouldn’t?” he asks, surprised. 

Tony makes a face. “I’ll ask next time, alright?”

“So you want to keep the rule?”

“Yeah. I can –” Do better. Tony’s throat closes up again. “It’s fine. You really wouldn’t have minded?”

“Not at all,” Loki says, his smile audible. “I also didn’t mind it when you asked for permission to leave the house. Although we did get rid of that rule.”

Wait. No. What?

“I didn’t –”

“You did.”

Can I go or do we have to finish story time first? Shit. He did. 

“Okay, don’t be smug about it,” Tony says. “That was just – habit.”

“Ah, of course.” Loki lowers his voice. “And here I thought you enjoy the lack of control very much. When you let yourself.”

“Shut up.”

Loki chuckles, but lets it go. He stays quiet, just holds Tony for a while, and it’s easy to sink into. The water is still hot. Loki is probably exhausting himself to make sure of that. Idiot.

“We should get out. We’re gonna be all pruny.”

“A little longer,” Loki says, burying his nose in Tony’s hair. “If you don’t mind.”

Tony doesn’t.

Chapter Text

32

Tony’s phone vibrates. It’s on the nightstand next to the bed, and it doesn’t stop vibrating, which, after he’s gotten over the initial shock, makes him realize that he’s getting a call. 

He groans and sits up straight, setting his laptop that has been resting on the knees down on the bed. In the process he manages to ram his elbows into Loki’s rip, making him let out a surprised oomph noise. 

“Sorry,” Tony says, already leaning over to look at his phone. He sighs; it’s just Rhodey. He takes the call. “Yeah?

“God, I already thought you’d died,” Rhodey says, sounding genuinely relieved.

“What, because I didn’t pick up after the first ring?” Tony leans back against the headboard again, closing the laptop with his free hand. “I’m a busy man, you know.”

“You didn’t reply to my texts! I thought he killed you and left you in a ditch somewhere.”

Tony swallows hard and grins around the flash of unease. “Stop motherhenning, I’m fine. I was just – uh. Busy. The last few days.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Rhodey says, still pissed. Then he sighs. “So he’s still treating you alright?”

“Yeah, he’s –” Tony glances at Loki and, oh, oops. Right. He’s right there.

Loki stares back, slowly raising a brow. 

“Uh,” Tony says. “Right here, actually.”

“What?”

“We’re just,” Tony stops for a moment, “chilling.”

Loki’s second eyebrow joins the first. Tony widens his eyes and lifts his shoulders. What the fuck is he supposed to say?

“Wait,” Rhodey says. “He’s – are you kidding? You’re kidding. Can he hear me?”

“Probably?” Tony says. Loki nods. “Yep. Godly ears, you know.”

“It’s fucking midnight where you’re at,” Rhodey hisses, trying – and failing – to whisper. “God, I knew you were fucking.”

“We’re not fucking,” Tony says. Loki gives him a dry look. “What? Some making out and a handjob doesn’t count.”

“Of course that counts,” Loki and Rhodey say at the same time – Loki is amused, Rhodey sounds like he needs to watch his blood pressure. 

“You’re a traitor,” Tony tells Loki, because, honestly. He could at least try to have Tony’s back. 

“I didn’t tell him about the handjob,” Loki says. “And besides, that is not nearly all we have been doing. Should I leave the room?”

“What? No, it’s fine. This is your bedroom.”

“Oh, it’s his bedroom,” Rhodey says, exasperated. “Of course it is.” Then he seems to catch himself. “Listen, Mr. – uh. I mean no offense.”

Great, now he’s scared. Tony sighs. “He’s not offended. We’re really just chilling right now, Rhodey, get your shit together. I’m working, he’s reading. I still have all my limbs. Sorry for not responding to your texts, I just haven’t been on my phone a lot.”

“Uh huh. Listen, maybe – call me tomorrow?”

“You just want to rip me a new one when Loki isn’t listening. I’m fine. I swear.”

“Okay. Still. And call home, too.”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

“Not to talk to your parents, Tones. Seriously. And stop working, I swear to god.”

Tony bites his lower lip. Fuck. “Okay, Jiminy, I think that’s enough for tonight. I need to get my beauty sleep.”

When he hangs up a few seconds later, Loki is concentrating on his book a little too hard. 

“How good are your ears, anyway?” Tony asks. 

“Very.”

Great. He probably heard everything the time Tony spoke to his dad, too. Tony puts his phone back on the nightstand. 

“What are you working on?” Loki asks, catching Tony by surprise.

“Oh. Well, we’re working on a new drone, and there’s not much I can do from here other than write the program. Dad needs it done by the fifteenth, so.”

Loki looks at him. Slowly, he closes the book. “Your father makes you work even though you are here?”

“Well, it’s not a vacation, is it?” Tony grabs the laptop and puts it on the ground next to the bed. “And I like working on this, so it’s not an issue. Don’t start like Rhodey.”

“What does he think about this, then?”

“That my father is an ass who won’t stop using me as a cash cow even when I’m stuck in the lair of a creepy alien.”

“I like this friend of yours more and more.”

“He called you a creepy alien, baby. Raise your standards.”

When Loki doesn’t get offended by Tony calling him baby, Tony realizes that he is serious. 

“Okay, both of you need to stop bugging me about it ,” he says. “It’s fine. I like it.”

“So you keep saying.”

“Then how about you start believing me, huh?” Tony flops down, ending up with his head resting on Loki’s thigh. “Is it past your bedtime? Is that why you’re cranky?”

Loki rolls his eyes, but sets his book aside to put his hand on Tony’s chest. “I am not cranky, but yes, I have been awake for quite a bit longer than I’m used to.”

Oh. Yes, he does look surprisingly awake for the fact that it’s nearing midnight, and he didn’t even take a nap at some point during the day. They have stayed up late together before, but then it always became noticeable that Loki was out of energy. 

“You okay?” Tony asks. “Want to go to sleep?”

“I’m fine,” Loki says, smiling. “Tell me about your favorite thing you have ever built.”

“Loki, I’m serious, drop it. It’s my work, I can’t just –”

“I am not trying to make a point,” Loki cuts him off, stroking over Tony’s chest. “I’m just curious.”

Well, that’s still suspicious, but Tony narrows his eyes and gives Loki the benefit of the doubt. “Dum-E.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Dum-E. He’s my favorite. I built him in college, he’s big and clumsy and fantastic.”

“What does he do?”

“He learns, mostly.” Tony shifts, putting his hand on Loki’s without thinking. “He rolls around and knocks stuff over and watches everything that’s going on. When he’s gathered enough data, he tries to do things himself. Usually it takes a few tries, and it’s always messy, but he knows how to use a mop by now, so that’s great. He helps me in the workshop.”

Loki looks a little confused. “A robot, then?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s pretty tall, and he has this – wait.” Tony sits up again and grabs his phone before lying back down. He flips through the photos until he finds one of Dum-E in the workshop. Tony turns the screen toward Loki. “Here.”

Loki leans forward, taking his time to examine the photo. “Ah, I see. Is that – what is he sitting in?”

“He spilled a smoothie. He’s figured out how to use the mixer, but he’s still unclear about what goes in and what doesn’t. I think he used cheese and peanut butter for this one.”

“Oh. Delicious.”

“Right? He’ll get there. He just needs a little time.”

Loki grins. He’s still looking at the screen. “Is this your workshop, then?”

“Yup. I’ve got just about the whole basement of SI in New York. It’s great.” You should come visit sometime, it’s on the tip of his tongue, so eager to slip out. He swallows it down and turns his phone back around, looking at Dum-E’s tilted claw. “Yeah, well. He’s my favorite. I’ve been thinking about building him a sister, he always – he gets sad when I’m not there.”

His voice is a little too quiet there at the end. He clears his throat and doesn’t look at Loki, puts his phone aside, pushes it under the covers. He doesn’t want to think about Dum-E right now, all alone in that windowless basement, rolling around and waiting by the door. Tidying this or that work table for the seventh time. Making smoothies nobody will drink. 

“You could drive down to the city, if you like,” Loki says softly. “Tomorrow. I could –”

“No,” Tony says. Shit, of course Rhodey is on the other end of the fucking world right now. He should have asked someone else, even some random SI intern would have been better than no one. He forgot. He’s such an idiot. “No, dad would lose it. It’s fine.”

“I do not care about what your father would say.”

“I said it’s fine.” Tony sits up again, rubbing his eyes. “It’s my fault. I thought I’d be back soon enough, and then I – I forgot. I’ll call someone tomorrow.”

Loki moves, and a moment later he’s wrapped around Tony from behind, his arms tight and warm around Tony’s chest. Tony puts a hand on Loki’s forearm and almost pushes him away, but it feels too good. Loki’s chest is warm and solid, pressed against Tony’s back, and he feels Loki’s lips on his jaw, then his neck. After a while, he snorts.

“Are you trying to distract me with sex?”

“Mh. Is it working?”

“Dunno.” Tony tilts his head to the side, closing his eyes when Loki kisses his neck right away. “Depends on what you’re offering.”

“I would love to offer you to skywalk you to your workshop, but I’m afraid at the moment I am still useless.”

“Skywalk?”

33

“Yes.”

“Is that teleporting in Loki-speak?”

“Yes.”

“Woah.” Tony’s brain catches up with what Loki said. “You’re not useless.”

Loki chuckles. “When it comes to that, yes, I am.”

Now Tony does wriggle out of Loki’s embrace so that he can turn around and push at Loki’s chest. Loki is like a solid fucking rock, doesn’t move an inch, at least not until Tony makes an impatient noise and pushes harder. Loki gives him a grin and allows it, lying down just like Tony wants him to. Tony follows right along, straddling him, and returns Loki’s grin when his hands come to rest on Tony’s sides. 

“Sounds like I need to amp up the worship,” Tony says. “I need to see that skywalking shit.”

“I haven’t been able to do it in a long time,” Loki says, dismissive. “And you already do enough. More than.”

There’s a light flutter in Tony’s chest, reacting to the warmth in Loki’s eyes. He shifts a little, making himself comfortable, his hands on Loki’s chest. His breath stutters a little, god, he likes this. Then he realizes that he’s all but sitting on Loki’s cock – they’re both dressed, so it’s fine, probably, but still. Tony is already getting hard. Loki is not. 

“Is this okay?” Tony asks. “I don’t want –”

“I’ll speak up if something bothers me,” Loki promises, then reaches up to cup the back of Tony’s neck and pull him down into a hard kiss.

Tony groans into it, mouth opening for Loki’s tongue. Loki’s hands slide under Tony’s shirt, touching everything he can reach. Tony loses track of the time as they kiss, gets lost in it, but he does notice when Loki starts tugging at his shirt. Tony gets with the program and pulls the shirt over his head to toss it aside. Loki is already opening Tony’s pants, so this is a team effort, and Tony has to laugh. Loki grins up at him, and then he flips them over. 

Tony winces when he lands on his back a little too hard. Loki’s smile slips. He sits back on his heels between Tony’s spread legs. 

“I’m good,” Tony says before Loki can even open his mouth. “Still sore from yesterday. Your fault.”

“My fault? Anthony, if you had just told me you wanted me to touch you,” he leans over Tony, predator grin back in place, and puts his hands on either side of Tony’s head, trapping him in place, “you would be sore for an entirely different reason.”

There’s the by now familiar rush of arousal mingled with fear. Tony still manages a grin, his heart somewhere between his throat and tongue. Before he can say anything, something tingles along his legs and gives him pause. He peers down at himself, which is a little difficult with Loki on top of him. 

“Did you just make my pants go poof? I know everyone’s always impatient to get me naked, but if you pass out on me now –”

“You worry too much.”

“Well, someone has to, apparently. And for the record, I can’t believe it’s me. I’m not usually –”

Loki kisses him again and yes, fine, Tony doesn’t know why he’s still talking, either. He buries his hands in Loki’s hair, delighted when Loki just lets him. Makes a pleased sound low in his throat, even. Tony dares to take it one step further and wraps his legs around Loki’s hips, arching up against him. If he ends up grinding his cock against Loki’s hips a little, well, he can’t help it.

Loki laughs against Tony’s lips and pulls back a little. “You really are an impertinent little thing, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call me little.”

That earns him another snorted laugh, and he likes it a lot that he can make bad jokes and startle Loki into laughing even when he’s busy mouthing at Tony’s neck. Tony is still grinning even as sparks of arousal make most coherent thoughts puff out. Loki is licking him again, a broad stripe of his tongue down Tony’s throat, and maybe it shouldn’t feel this good, but it does. Especially when there’s a hint of teeth, and that hint turns into –

“Shit,” Tony gasps, bucking his hips involuntarily. The pain travels from where Loki bit down into every inch of his body, heated and tingling.

“Too hard?”

Tony tries to catch his breath and fails. He’s panting, unsure what part of Loki he wants to cling to. “No, no, it’s –”

Tony trails off because Loki licks the skin he bit, and Tony can feel his tongue sliding over the sensitive imprints his teeth left behind. God, this is what he wanted, what he’s been waiting for the last few days; the quick jerk off session at the lake was nothing in comparison. He runs a hand up Loki’s back, still clothed, but his skin is warm underneath the shirt he’s wearing, and Tony’s mouth is dry. Loki kisses his way up Tony’s throat again, teeth sliding over the skin.

“Again,” Tony demands, tugging at Loki’s shirt.

Loki grins; Tony can feel it. “Say please, dar –”

“Please. ”

The noise Tony hears is an actual fucking purr, something that started deep in Loki’s chest. Loki moves away, though, and Tony whines in protest, propping himself up on his elbows – or trying to, because immediately Loki’s hand is on his chest and pushes him back down. Tony can’t even try to resist, Loki is too strong. Tony’s cock jumps. 

“Stay,” Loki says. He straddles one of Tony’s thighs, pinning him to the mattress as if the word alone is not enough – even though it is. Tony doesn’t think about moving. Loki flashes his teeth at him. “Good boy.”

He bends down again, kissing him for a long while, and oh, now Tony realizes why Loki moved – his thigh is pressed right up against Tony’s cock like this, perfect to grind against. Tony does so automatically, desperate to find an angle that works.

“Look at you,” Loki says, kissing Tony’s jaw. “Did I say you could? You can’t control yourself at all, can you?”

Tony grits his teeth and makes himself stop moving. His hands are clutching Loki’s waist now, he needs him closer.

“Oh, no need to stop on my account. In fact, I’d like to see you come from humping my thigh."

He bites Tony’s neck again, harder this time. Tony moans, hips twitching. 

“Like the needy pet you are, hm?” Loki adds, voice low. “Go on.”

Tony would like to be offended by being talked to like that, but he’s not; it just makes the arousal burn hotter. It requires a little work, he doesn’t have enough leverage to thrust properly, and he’s sure he looks pathetic doing it, but he feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t. 

“That’s it,” Loki murmurs when Tony starts rubbing his cock against Loki’s thigh as well as he can. “Good boy, just like that.”

His teeth again, on Tony’s shoulder, a sharp sting. He somehow manages to catch both of Tony’s wrists in one hand and bring them up over his head, pinning them to the bed. 

“I should tie you up,” Loki says with a sigh, wistful. “You would look beautiful. But for now, this will do, yes?”

“Green,” Tony says, realizing that Loki is checking in with him. He’s getting the hang of this shit. 

“Good. Don’t stop.”

Tony keeps working his hips, already out of breath. The pressure against his cock is heavenly, and it only gets better when Loki kisses him again, roughly, teeth catching on Tony’s lower lip. Tony’s entire body is too hot, he can’t fucking think. Not that he wants to. Loki over him, all around him, that is all Tony wants right now. 

“Do not move them,” Loki says when he lets go of Tony’s wrists. 

Tony nods quickly, really not caring what position he’s in as long as Loki doesn’t move his thigh. He’s found a rhythm that works, it’s good, this is good. Loki laughs, tinged with warm cruelty, and Tony can’t keep a desperate sound from slipping out. Loki keeps a hand on the bed next to Tony’s hand, but the other one touches Tony’s chest, stroking and petting and pinching a nipple hard. Tony gasps. He feels Loki’s mouth on his neck again and even though he knows what’s coming he tenses up – it hurts more this time, but it’s not enough. He moans and thrusts up against Loki’s thigh, his muscles almost too tense to move properly, an ache spreading in his stomach. He doesn’t care, it feels too good. 

“Harder, come on,” he says, barely able to get the words out. He grasps the pillow over his head, back arching, trying to chase Loki’s touch. 

“I would draw blood, love.”

Tony whines. “So? Please.”

Loki sighs again. “The things you do to me.”

Oh, Tony is fully prepared to argue his case, he just needs a moment to get his brain to work – but then he doesn’t need to do that, thankfully, because Loki leans down again and bites down on Tony’s shoulder. Something is off, Tony can feel it, can feel that the tips of Loki’s teeth are too sharp. The skin opens up for them too easily.

“Fuck, fuck –” Tony gasps for breath when Loki pulls back and the pain arrives in Tony’s brain, turning everything white for a second. The skin burns, Loki licks the bite for good measure, oh, Tony is going to fall apart. 

“Close, aren’t you?”

Tony only manages a strained uh huh and Loki straightens, one hand gripping Tony’s shoulder. His nails dig into the fresh wound, then the pressure eases and he cups Tony’s chin instead, forcing Tony to look at him. His fingers are wet. Tony stares up at him, the red on Loki’s lips; he feels like a rubber band that’s stretched too far, a bit more and he’s going to snap.

“Come for me, darling.”

Tony does. It punches the air out of his lungs. For a second he can’t hear anything over the rushing in his ears, then the world slowly shifts back into focus. His breaths are ragged. The tension seeps out of his body, leaving him limp. 

“Fuck,” he says, drowsy. 

“Good?” Loki asks, hands warm on Tony’s chest.

“Yeah.” Tony blinks his eyes open. Loki is still sitting on Tony’s thigh and yup, his pants are ruined. Tony shivers. “Good.”

Loki smiles and sits back, then licks his fingers. Tony watches, somehow not at all shocked. The blood looks good on Loki’s pale fingers, tongue flicking out to catch every drop. Despite his efforts, his hand is still smeared red when he’s done. His lips, too. Come to think of it, Tony’s shoulder feels that tingly kind of numb that he knows from cutting himself in the workshop. In a bit, the skin will become sore and tender. 

“Move your arms, pet,” Loki says, leaning forward again to run a hand over Tony’s arms as if to loosen up the muscles. “Do you want to sit up?”

Tony nods, even though what he really wants is to pass out, preferably in Loki’s arms. But he sits up when Loki moves and looks down at his shoulder. He can see the edges of the bite, a perfect imprint of sharp teeth. Huh. He wants to touch it, but Loki gently pushes his hand away.

“Let me clean it,” he says and gets out of bed. “I will be right back.”

Tony lets his hand sink. Loki disappears into the bathroom. Tony can hear him wash his hands, then rummage around a bit. He returns quickly and sits down next to Tony again to dab at the wound with a sterile wipe that Tony bets Loki keeps in his bathroom for this exact purpose. He even brought more alien medicine, a salve that burns like a bitch at first but then soothes the pain. 

“Don’t make such a fuss,” Tony tells him. “It’s fine.”

“I shall make whatever amount of fuss I like, thank you.”

Tony chuckles. It’s not like he really minds. Actually, being fussed over feels… kind of good. He leans against Loki, his forehead resting on Loki’s shoulder. Loki chuckles and finishes treating the wound, then scratches the back of Tony’s head. It’s soothing, makes Tony want to fall asleep right here and now. Lying down would still be better, though.

“Do you have one of those Captain America patches?” he asks, muffled by Loki’s shoulder. “I always got them as a kid.”

“I’m afraid not,” Loki says. Tony can hear his smile. “I think it will be fine without one. It’s stopped bleeding.”

“Mh. You’re not venomous, are you?”

“However did you get that idea?”

“Well, pretty sure your teeth were sharper than they should be for a second there, so it’s not that much of a stretch.”

Loki just grins with his perfectly normal looking teeth. Creepy bastard. Tony straightens again when he has to yawn. Loki wipes at Tony’s shoulder a little more, then at his jaw, getting rid of the blood. Tony would tell him he could just lick it up if he wasn’t so comfortable doing absolutely nothing. 

“Sleep,” Loki says when he’s finally satisfied. 

“Sleep,” Tony agrees. 

It’s almost routine, now, to lie down on his side and let Loki attach himself to his back. Tony can tell that Loki is taking care not to aggravate Tony’s shoulder. 

“Does it hurt?”

“Mh,” Tony says, eyes already closed. “Bet you’d love that.”

“Not if you didn’t enjoy it. I will heal it if you want me to.”

Yeah, right. “No. No healing.”

“I promise not to pass out.”

“I like it. Want to keep it.”

Loki hums and holds Tony a little tighter. “Anything you like.” He’s quiet for a moment, then he starts to move. “Oh.”

Tony does not want him to move. “What.”

“I forgot to change my pants. Let me just –”

This man, honestly. As if Tony cares about some wet spots right now. Tony huffs and grabs Loki’s arm, wanting to keep him as close as possible. “Don’t care. Stay.”

Loki stays.

*

Tony closes the door of his bedroom behind himself, already holding his phone. They are a little off schedule because they slept in and missed their usual breakfast time, but he has more than enough time before lunch to make a call. 

He goes to the window and tells himself that being nervous would be ridiculous, so he’s not. Easy peasy. 

He finds the right contact – home – and calls. It’s lunch time, so his parents are probably out at work or networking somewhere, but even if they are home, they never pick up the landline. There’s usually only one person who does. 

Tony doesn’t need to wait long at all. The line clicks after the second ring. 

“Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah.” Tony smiles; he hasn’t heard that voice in a month, and it shouldn’t be a surprise that he missed it. “Hi! How are things without me, huh? Do you miss not having to get up at three to let me in?”

Jarvis lets out a relieved breath, quiet but audible. “Terribly. I considered losing my own keys to replicate the experience, but it wouldn’t be the same. How are you, sir?”

The concern is also quiet but audible. Tony’s smile fades a little. 

“I’m fine. I should have – it’s been a lot, that’s all. You didn’t worry, did you?”

“About you?” Jarvis says dryly. “Always. What can I do for you?”

What do you need? Are you hurt? Angry? Unhappy? I’ll listen. The same song, as long as Tony can remember. It’s good to hear it again. 

“There’s no need to hide a body or anything,” Tony says. “Don’t get excited.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. How is the weather upstate?”

“A lot better than expected, actually. You could almost say I’m into it.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” Tony pauses. “I like him.”

It’s heavy, the way he says it, and Jarvis picks it right up. 

“I see,” he says. “Does your father know?”

“No. He’s got nothing to do with it.”

He doesn’t need to say that he wants it to stay that way. He’s pretty sure Jarvis would rather cut off his right hand than tattle to Howard. 

“Well,” Jarvis says, thoughtful. “I’m glad you are enjoying your time away, after all.”

“Yeah, me too. How are you? And Ana?”

“We are both fine, thank you. The house is a little quiet without you. It’s fascinating how many things I get done.”

Tony grins. “Yeah, I can imagine. Hey, can you do me a favor?”

“That is quite literally my job, sir.”

“It’s about Dum-E. He’s been all alone, and I don’t – well, either he’s dismantling my workshop or planning world domination by now, you know how he gets. Can you check on him? Just once. It doesn’t have to be for long.”

Jarvis is quiet for a second too long. 

“Jarvis?”

“I visited him last week,” Jarvis admits, lowering his voice a little. “He seemed to be doing well. A little lonely, maybe. I put on some music for him.”

“You – really?”

“Yes. I hoped you wouldn’t mind.”

“Are you kidding? Of course I don’t, that’s – thank you. Seriously. How did you –”

“I pretended to need to fetch something from your workshop. Well, that was two weeks ago. Last week I said I had to bring it back.”

Tony shakes his head. He should have known that Jarvis would be meddling, it’s what he’s best at. “You should quit, you know. You’re too good for our house.”

“Well, I suppose it grew on me.”

Ten minutes later, Tony goes back downstairs. Loki isn’t in the library for once, but in the rarely used living room, sitting cross-legged on the low sofa with the remote in his hand. 

“I want to watch a bad movie,” he says in reaction to Tony’s surprised look. 

“Specifically a bad one?” Tony grins as he drops down next to Loki. “Why’s that?”

“Then it won’t matter that much if we get distracted.”

Tony takes one look at Loki’s sharp grin and has to laugh. “Yeah, okay. Anyone ever tell you you’re a shameless flirt?”

“Not in those exact words. How did it go?”

“Oh. Jarvis has been checking on Dum-E, so. That’s good.”

Loki’s grin turns a lot softer. “And your friend?”

“Didn’t pick up.”

He does not mention that he purposefully called at a time he knew Rhodey wouldn’t be able to take the call. 

“You should try again tonight,” Loki says, zapping through the channels. 

“Yeah, maybe.”

Loki looks at him. 

Tony hesitates. “I… really don’t want to have that conversation.”

“Why not?”

“Uh, I don’t know, because he’s a nosy bitch? He’ll want to know everything, and I –” Tony huffs. “Well, what can I even say? ‘Oh, it’s something casual, you know me. I just let him choose my clothes and decide when I get to come and sometimes he bites me until I bleed.’ Yes, that sounds good. Real casual. Don’t look so fucking smug.”

Loki does not stop looking so fucking smug, but he reaches out for Tony, curling an arm around him and pulling him close. “There is nothing wrong with any of that.”

Tony wants to snap at him, easy for you to say, all that jazz, but then he thinks that it’s probably not. None of the stuff Loki said in the bath about being a monster sounded easy. 

“It’s a little weird,” Tony says eventually. “What with – you know. The deal.”

“Do you think he will disapprove?”

“I think he’ll yell at me for not being able to keep it in my pants even when it could get me killed.”

“We are not allowed to kill humans.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Yes, officially. We both know not all of us come back after their three months.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Anthony.”

“Yes, well, Rhodey doesn’t know that. And I’m pretty sure under all the yelling he’s just worried I’m not into it.”

That makes Loki shut up for a while. He stops looking for something to watch, and within half a minute Tony gets so bored of the news the TV is showing – ohh, more wars between godless cities, more acid rain, more dying fish, what a surprise – that he snatches the remote from Loki’s hand and changes the channel. 

“But you are,” Loki says finally. 

“What?”

“Into it.”

Tony glances at him, then back at the TV. “You know I am. You also know that I couldn’t do anything about it if I wasn’t and you decided not to give a shit.” 

Loki’s face is blank. Well, that he doesn’t like thinking about this doesn’t make it any less true. That Loki could do anything to him is only hot because Tony knows that he won’t. It’s stupid, probably, to trust Loki this much after just a month, but it’s how it is. 

“All in all, you’re a pleasant surprise,” Tony says. “Shit, that looks really good.”

Loki follows his gaze. “Cake?”

“Not cake. Cupcakes. Oh my god. I want one. Or five. Can we order some? Wait, do they even deliver food all the way out here?”

“No, they do not,” Loki says, sounding like he would kill everyone who dares to approach the house. “You could make them yourself.”

Tony snorts. “Yeah, sure.”

“Is that funny?”

“Do I look like I can bake? I’d set your kitchen on fire.”

“A month ago, you couldn’t cook.”

Tony frowns. That’s – huh. Not not true. He can follow a recipe, at least, even though the kitchen is still always a mess when he’s done and some things just keep going wrong. All in all, he managed to go from barely edible to a bit more than okay, right?

So maybe cupcakes aren’t out of the question. 

“I’m gonna make cupcakes,” he announces. 

Loki grins. “I want to watch.”

“No.”

“Yes. Now?”

Tony hopes that if he snuggles closer to Loki now and distracts him for a while, he’ll forget about wanting to watch. “No.”

Loki sinks a little further into the sofa cushions, so the plan must have worked. Tony’s brilliance strikes again. 

They watch the cooking show for a while. Two minutes later Tony almost has a hysterical laughing fit because he is watching a cooking show with a god and it doesn’t even feel weird. He’s never just sat around and cuddled with someone before. He doesn’t sit around much, full stop. Well, except during car rides between meetings or parties. Mostly parties. 

It’s nice. 

The cooking show ends at some point, but there’s a second episode on right after it, so Tony doesn’t change the channel. He should probably start making lunch, but god he does not want to move, and also this gives him a good chance to think.  He also wants to learn how to bake bread. He bets if he made bread himself Loki would be really impressed. 

Loki’s fingers have found their way to Tony’s shoulder by now. Tony doesn’t really notice, at least not until they brush against the marks Loki’s teeth left behind. Accidentally, he thinks, but then it happens again. And again. Loki even applies pressure. Tony’s sweater separates Loki’s fingers from Tony’s skin, but it still hurts. 

“Ow,” Tony says flatly without looking away from the TV. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England. Stop fingering my bite wound.”

Loki stops, but his fingers stay on Tony’s shoulder, shy of the edges of the wound. “I should put the salve on it again. It will be healed in a day or two.”

“Really? Guess you’ll just have to bite me again, then.”

Loki stills. “Do you mean that?”

Tony yanks his eyes away from the TV and looks at Loki, who is staring at him with unveiled excitement in his eyes. 

Tony flushes and looks back at the TV. “I mean, it doesn’t hurt that much. And you like it, so.”

“Yes, but do you?”

It was pretty fucking hot, yeah. He wouldn’t really have put being bitten by a god on his list of kinks a day ago, but now it’s somewhere in the top twenty. Go figure. 

“Yes,” he says. “Maybe we can turn it into Dracula role play. You’ll be Tall, Dark and Undead and I can lie around all day and be pretty. And die of blood loss, but that’s irrelevant. What’s with the bodily fluids, anyway?”

“You deflect.”

“Well spotted, Blue’s Clues. I asked you a question.”

“Yes, bodily fluids. I don’t know what you mean.”

“Now who’s deflecting?” Tony looks at Loki, unimpressed. “Do you think I haven’t noticed that you lick up my jizz every time? So, I’m not kink shaming, but considering that you also licked up my blood last night, there’s probably something more to it, right? So, yes. Bodily fluids. Spill. No pun intended.”

Loki grins, lopsided. “Pun very much intended, knowing you.”

Tony grins back, but otherwise just looks at Loki, waiting for an answer. 

“It’s an offering,” Loki says finally. “A sacrifice. There are correlations to blood magic as well, but I can’t make use of that at the moment, so it hardly matters.”

Tony thinks about the books they have been reading – there is a passage about sacrifices, complete with a description of altars and what you should or shouldn’t put on it. Or kill on it, in the case of gods who are into a little murder and/or dead animals. Is he an actual sacrificial lamb now? Because he doesn’t like that one bit. 

“So it’s not a kink?” he asks, resigned. He really hoped it’s just a kink. 

Loki lifts a shoulder. “It is, but it’s also a little more.”

“Yeah, okay. What if I pissed on you?”

Loki stares at him. “Excuse me?”

“Well, that’s also a bodily fluid.”

“It’s waste.”

“So I can’t worship you by pissing on you?”

“No, and even –” He pauses, scowling. “Well, it depends on your intentions behind it, I suppose. But even if you could, I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Okay. Do you want me to come on your food instead?”

Loki scrunches up his nose in an adorably offended manner. “You’re disgusting.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who needs my magical healing sperm to survive.”

“Please never say those words in that order again,” Loki says, tugging at Tony’s hair, the gesture more playful than admonishing. “It’s not about the fluid itself. All worship in it comes from the way you let yourself go for me – giving yourself over to pain or pleasure, or both, that is the sacrifice.”

“So you don’t feed on the blood, but on the energy in it.”

“I don’t feed.”

“Whatever you say, Colin Robinson.” Tony leans his head back against Loki’s arm. “You can do it again.”

“I didn’t plan to,” Loki says, voice soft. His fingertips wander back to Tony’s shoulder, feeling the crusted incisions through the fabric of Tony’s shirt. “Last night. I wasn’t supposed to…”

He trails off. Tony looks at him, waiting, but Loki doesn’t continue. 

“No? What did you plan?”

“Hmm.” Loki smiles, but it seems distracted. “I meant to suck your cock and have you tell me all the things you thought about when you touched yourself.”

Suck your cock, Tony thinks, like the words are in a different language he can’t make sense of. It takes a moment until they sink in, until he realizes that Loki actually said that, and then he gapes at Loki. “Wait, you – really?”

“It was supposed to be a reward.” Loki looks at him, smile slipping away. “You keep averting my plans.” He shakes his head. “Another day, yes?”

“Yeah, sure, but – you’re into that?”

Loki arches a brow. “It’s not that different from using my hand, is it? And besides, I’m sure you would make the loveliest noises. Yes, I would enjoy it.”

More data. Tony frowns. He’s been trying to add all of Loki’s likes and dislikes together, assuming he’ll end up with a big picture that makes complete sense, but he’s always missing something. The solution to that is collecting more data, obviously, but it’s not like that has been working out so far. He’s still fucking up all the time. 

Ugh. At this point he should probably just ask. 

Chapter Text

35

“I must admit I’m surprised. These look much more than edible.”

“Shut up. I need to focus.”

Loki shuts up. Wonders never cease. Tony squeezes the makeshift pastry bag and does a slow but by now practiced swirl – the frosting ends up looking perfect, because he’s a genius and his talent is unsurpassed.

“You have steady hands,” Loki says.

“I build bombs.”

“Fair enough.”

Tony finishes the last four cupcakes without any accidents – one or two of the twelve he made look a little awry, but all in all, they look… yeah, pretty great, actually. Now that the frosting covers the slightly burned cakes underneath, anyway. 

“I really thought this would go worse,” he says, then looks at the still half full bag of frosting. “I made too much.”

“Give that to me,” Loki says, already taking the bag. He grabs a bowl and squeezes the rest of the frosting into it. 

“You’re not going to –”

But Loki is already holding a spoon and hopping onto the counter. He digs into the frosting and eats it pure. 

“Yeah, of course you are,” Tony says. Well, it’s not like it’s illegal. “Good?”

“Interesting,” Loki says. That sounds discouraging, but the taste doesn’t stop him from shoving another spoonful into his mouth. “What is this, coconut?”

“I like coconut,” Tony says, defensive. He spent like two hours googling for a recipe yesterday because Loki doesn’t own any baking books. Maybe he should have picked the classic – boring – chocolate frosting to match the cakes themselves. 

Loki smiles, eyes bright. “It’s good.”

Tony nods, stifling his happy grin, and looks around the kitchen. It’s a mess. He needed three tries to get the frosting right, and there’s splattered batter everywhere. “Well, good, because I’m never doing this shit again.”

Baking, honestly. What was he thinking?

“You did an excellent job, as far as I’m concerned,” Loki says, scratching the last remains of frosting out of the bowl. He’s already eyeing the finished cupcakes. 

Ah, right. Impressing Loki, that’s what he was thinking. Tony makes a face and starts to clean the kitchen. He’s pathetic, but what else is new?

“We literally just had lunch,” he says. “You can’t eat ten cupcakes right now.”

“Why not?”

“Because – shit, I don’t know, I think I just aged twenty years. Forget it, go wild. But leave one for me.”

Loki hops off the counter and gathers the various bowls and spoons that have been sitting in their mess on the kitchen island. Tony stills and watches, suspicious of this new development. 

“Are you actually going to help me clean the kitchen for once?”

Loki grins and keeps doing just that. Tony is pretty sure Loki is only doing it to speed up the process and get closer to the Eating Cupcakes part of the day, but he’s not about to call him out on it. Seeing a god rinse dishes before putting them into the dishwasher is far too entertaining. Apart from that, he’s getting the feeling that Loki is just hungry. He basically licked his plate clean at lunch, same as the meals before. Maybe Tony needs to cook bigger portions. He likes that Loki is hungry, and that he doesn’t need to sleep as much as he did in the beginning. It means that he is getting better. 

He likes it. He does. 

What he doesn’t like is the reminder that this is the only reason he’s here. To make Loki better, and then leave. 

He pushes that thought away as soon as it crosses his mind. No use in getting upset about something he can do jack shit about. 

They eat cupcakes sitting on the kitchen counter. They’re pretty good for a first try. 

*

In the evening, Tony is alone in his room. Working, at least with sixty percent of his brain power. The other forty are busy thinking about Loki, who didn’t complain when Tony announced that he wanted to sleep in his own room tonight. There was a touch of disappointment, yes, a brief pause in the oh before the yes, of course, but it was fine, and then they each went to their own rooms and it‘s still fine. Tony only wanted to prove to himself that he absolutely does not need to spend every waking minute close to Loki, and he doesn‘t. It‘s nice to be alone for a while, actually. 

But when he puts the laptop aside and lies down to sleep, he can‘t. And instead of lying awake all night, he gives up after an hour. 

Barefoot, he leaves his room and walks down the hallway. In front of Loki’s door, he stands still for a few seconds, listening. Nothing. He opens the door a few inches. It’s pitch black inside. 

“Anthony?”

Still awake, then. Tony swallows. “Yeah. I changed my mind, can I stay here?”

“Yes,” Loki says at once. “Always. Come here.”

Tony shuffles into the room. As soon as he is on the bed, Loki reaches for him and pulls him close. They end up spooning like usual, and it’s frightening how fast Tony got used to it. To wanting it. 

He‘s much more comfortable now, at ease, and still his eyes won‘t close. He stares into the darkness, listening to Loki‘s breaths, enjoying the way Loki‘s fingertips lazily pet Tony‘s stomach. He‘s thinking about the fact that Loki was already in bed, too, but not asleep. Maybe he couldn‘t. Because Tony wasn‘t there?

Yeah, right. Tony is not the type to give himself over to wishful thinking, so he stops. Tries to, anyway. 

“What is bothering you?” Loki asks, voice soft. 

“Nothing.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m fine, just – thinking.”

“About?”

Tony squirms. Loki lifts his arm, giving him room to move and find a more comfortable position. When he’s found it, Tony goes still again. He waits for Loki’s hand to go slack and his breaths to even out – he doesn’t snore, just makes quiet, adorably regular huffing noises – but it doesn’t happen. Loki stays awake. Waiting. 

Well, whatever. 

“Can I ask you something?” Tony’s voice is more brittle than he would like. Uncertain. 

“By all means.”

“Do you get horny? Like, ever?”

Loki is silent for a moment, but his body doesn’t tense up and he doesn’t stop petting Tony, so Tony thinks he didn’t mess up just yet. 

“No,” Loki says finally. 

Huh. 

“Never?” Tony presses, stunned. 

“I take it you find that difficult to believe.”

“Well, yeah, I –” A little late, Tony picks up on the tightness of Loki’s voice. He deflates. “I don’t know. I just don’t – I mean, I’m horny all the time.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed.”

“So, never? Really?”

“Believe it or not, you are not the standard for everyone else in the universe.”

Damn. Yes, there it is; he messed up. “No, I know, I – I’m not trying to be a dick, I just want to understand. I’ve never really thought about it before I met you. I mean, I know how it works, in theory, the whole ace thing. I looked it up.”

Now Loki’s hand does stop moving. “You did? When?”

“Uh. Yesterday. While you were in the shower.”

“You –” Loki pauses. “You have been thinking about this.”

“Yes? I know I fucked up that one time, and I don’t want to repeat that, so. I’ve been trying to make sense of it, but online it said it’s a spectrum, and I don’t know – I’ve gotten a good idea of what you’re into, I’m not stupid, but – you know, I didn’t think you sucking me off was on the table, but it is, apparently, and that’s cool, obviously, I’m game, but it’d be fine if it wasn’t – on the table, I mean – and I don’t want –”

“Hush,” Loki says and moves his hand up to Tony’s chest to let it rest there. “I’ll explain. Yes?”

Tony takes a breath and nods. He waits. Behind him, Loki is quiet and, yes, a little tense now. 

“I,” Loki says, at length, “have not had this conversation before.”

Tony frowns. “What?”

“With a – a lover, that is. I haven’t – well. It hasn’t come up.”

Lover? Is that what they are? Tony doesn’t want to ask, and he’s so startled by Loki’s stammering that he forgets about it quickly enough. Loki doesn’t stammer, full stop. 

“How can it not come up?” he asks, confused. 

“Well,” Loki says slowly. “I kept it to myself in Asgard. When I came to Midgard and started visiting certain establishments, it was… easy enough to keep these things out of the equation. You would be surprised by how many people are looking for domination and pain without sex.” He snorts. “Some got even more excited when I wouldn’t let them touch me.”

Tony mulls that over. “I’m simultaneously having a hard time and a really good time imagining you in a BDSM club. Did you wear leather?”

“You’ve seen my closet.”

Not quite the kind of leather Tony was imagining, but yes, he thinks he can work with those leather pants and complicated jackets. He has yet to see Loki wear them, though. Oh, that would be something. 

“A lovely demonstration,” Loki says, amused. 

“What?”

“A really good time, you said?” Loki’s voice drops another octave, which is just not fair. “When you’re aroused, your breaths get shallow and your eyes dark. You blush. And you get hard, of course. I wonder –”

His hand creeps lower, but Tony quickly grabs Loki‘s wrist and keeps him from reaching where Tony‘s cock is definitely not taking an interest in the proceedings, thank you very much. 

“Get your mind out of the gutter, we’re having a conversation here. And you can’t even see me right now, so you don’t know –”

“Oh, I know.” Loki chuckles and returns his hand to Tony’s chest. “And I have seen your reaction often enough by now, I know what it looks like. It’s very pretty.”

Tony huffs, but before he can complain, Loki continues. 

“My point is that I do not experience that.”

Tony forgets about being offended – pretty, really? – and thinks about that. “Not at all?”

“No. I know hunger for closeness – for touching and being touched, and I know finding someone so beautiful I can’t look away from them. But sexual attraction is foreign to me.”

“Okay,” Tony says slowly. “So when you had sex, was it – didn’t it suck? Because I wouldn’t want to fuck someone I’m not attracted to.”

“There is a reason I prefer not to be on the receiving end. I do not hate it, but I can’t say I like it very much. I don’t feel strongly about it either way, it’s –“ He stops briefly. “Well, it’s something that simply… happens. It can be relaxing, I suppose, but usually it’s underwhelming.”

He sounds frustrated, causing Tony to wince. “Listen, if you don’t want to talk about this, we don’t –”

“No,” Loki says, burying his nose in Tony’s hair. He sighs. “I don’t mind, I simply don’t know if I am making sense. Am I?”

Tony doesn’t bother suppressing his smile; it’s not like Loki can see it. It’s kind of cute, listening to Loki fumble for words, unsure how to explain himself. That hasn’t happened before. He hates it, that much is obvious, so Tony won’t tease him for it, but still. Cute. 

“No, yeah, I think I get what you’re saying. But you –” He pauses. “I won’t ask you if you enjoy what we do, because –”

“I do. I told you.”

“Yes, that. Just. Would you be fine without it? Would you prefer it if I didn’t…”

Seconds tick by. Tony swallows, his throat suddenly tight. 

“If you decided that you didn’t need or want it anymore,” Loki says finally, his voice soft and warm, “I would miss it. Watching and touching you both.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Loki’s hand slips under Tony’s shirt, not for any apparent funny business; it just rests on his chest, skin to skin. “I enjoy being close to you, Anthony. I like giving you what you need, especially if it’s pleasure.”

Tony closes his eyes. Loki sounds like he means it, and that’s – well. How is Tony supposed to deal with that?

He rolls onto his other side so they are face to face, barely an inch of space between their noses. Tony’s eyes have gotten used to the darkness by now, he can see Loki’s eyes, albeit just barely. Loki touches him again, a hand on Tony’s side. Tony plays with a strand of Loki’s hair that’s on the pillow between them. 

“So you don’t mind that I – that we’re different? Because I can’t really stop wanting stuff that you don’t like.”

“I never said you should,” Loki says. “And no, I don’t mind at all. In fact, I want to hear about all that stuff in detail.”

Tony remembers Loki saying that he wanted to make Tony tell him all about what was on his mind when he touched himself. He has to smile. “You do, huh.”

“Yes. If you’re alright with the fact that I won’t ever be able to give you some of those things, that is. There might be days I’m willing to go further than others, but I will never want them in the same way as you.”

“Of course I’m alright with that.”

“You weren’t in the beginning.”

Tony opens his mouth to argue, then closes it again. It’s true, he supposes. He wasn’t fine with it. But it wasn’t because he felt like Loki was somehow lacking , it was the other way around. He freaked out because it was him who wasn’t enough – hot enough, interesting enough, whatever – and well, maybe he still feels like that. It’s not like he has been freaking out the last few days because he’s pissed that Loki doesn’t want to fuck him like others do, he just can’t stand not knowing what’s okay and what isn’t. He’s not sure at what point pleasing Loki got so important. It’s probably Loki’s fault; the way he smiles when he’s happy is just too damn good. So, whatever. Tony knows that this may be a fun three month situationship that Loki won’t give a damn about as soon as the time is up, but. Until then, maybe he can do this right.

He presses his lips against Loki’s. It’s sweet, and Tony has never done sweet before, but it feels good here, in this pretty house upstate that is miles away from everyone else. It feels even better when Loki kisses back. There is no heat in it, just warmth. 

“I don’t mind,” Tony says, pulling back. “I just don’t like – feeling out of my depth.”

“I have gotten that impression.”

“I’m just not used to it.”

“Ah, yes. The trials and tribulations of being more intelligent than everyone else.”

“Exactly. I know you’re not familiar with that feeling, but – shit, no, get your cold feet away from me, fuck.”

Loki makes a sound that can only be described as a giggle, but he stops shoving his icy feet against Tony’s legs. Tony tries to act annoyed, but Loki’s laughter is contagious. 

“Bastard,” Tony says, making himself comfortable again. 

“Possibly, yes,” Loki says, unbothered. “It also depends on the person, you know.”

“Hm?”

“I have been with people – lovely submissives, truly – that I never felt the need to touch like I’ve touched you. But people I –” Loki touches Tony’s face, thumb brushing over his jaw. “Well. Others I wanted to know inside out.”

Tony swallows. He’s pretty sure what category he belongs in, and he’s not sure he wants to deal with that information as long as Loki’s face is inches away from his own. So he just kisses Loki again, and then they settle down to sleep. Easy.

36

Tony is so busy thinking about blowjobs that he trips over his own feet and lands on his face. 

Typical. 

“Fuck’s sake,” he mutters, groaning as he gets up. 

His knee hurts like hell; he landed right on a stone, and his sweatpants are torn and bloody. His palms are a little chafed from catching his fall, but the knee is worse. He huffs and brushes dirt off his clothes before he finishes his run. 

Loki is waiting on the veranda when Tony comes back to the house. He does not look happy. 

“Did someone die?” Tony says as he walks up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. “Or are we just out of tea?”

When Loki doesn’t reply immediately, Tony falters. 

“Wait, did someone die?”

“No,” Loki says finally, looking Tony up and down. “What happened?”

“Uhm.” Tony glances down at himself, then shows Loki his grazed palms. “I fell. No big deal, except that I ruined my only pair of sweatpants.”

Loki’s mouth twitches downward, but the expression quickly makes way for one of amused resignation. “You get injured a lot, don’t you?”

Fishy. Tony narrows his eyes. “To be fair, more than half of the times I got injured here was you injuring me, so.”

“I assume you’re not counting all the times you cut or burned yourself while cooking?”

“That’s just collateral damage.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “Of course. Go and take a shower, I’ll be right with you.”

Tony snorts and goes upstairs, ignoring the pain that shoots through his knee at every step. In his bathroom, he throws his clothes into the hamper – he doesn’t think the runes handling laundry will do anything about the torn pants, but one can hope – and takes a shower. He left the door to his bedroom and the one to his bathroom wide open, hoping Loki will take it as the invitation it is. Somehow, Tony is still surprised when he gets out of the shower and sees Loki leaning against the doorway. Whatever pissed him off earlier, he seems to have gotten over it – or at least he’s hiding it better now. 

“You didn’t have to keep running,” Loki says, gaze fixed on Tony’s bruised knee. 

Tony shrugs and grabs a towel to dry his hair. “It’s really not that bad.”

Loki hums, watching as Tony dries off. Tony waggles his eyebrows at him with a lewd grin. Loki smirks and finally comes inside to unceremoniously grab Tony by his waist and lift him onto the countertop next to the sink. 

“I’m not a rag doll, you know,” Tony complains, even though the casual display of strength sent a flash of arousal through his guts. 

“No?” Loki pulls a familiar tin out of his pocket. “Then I suppose I should not treat you like one. Unless you enjoy it?”

“Do you have a thing for playing doctor?” Tony asks, expertly changing the topic. He watches as Loki smears salve on Tony’s knee. “Because I think you’d look great in a nurse costume.”

“I don’t want you in pain,” Loki says, not looking at him.

“Liar.”

Loki’s smile returns, just briefly. “Pain I did not cause.”

“Yeah, okay. What’s up?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re acting weird. Something’s up.”

To his credit, Loki is really good at this. His face shows the exact right amount of surprise, not too much, not too little. “Nothing is up. I’m fine.”

“Uh huh. Is that why you were waiting outside earlier with that look on your face?”

“What look?”

“Like you’d just bitten into that way too sour risotto I made you eat once,” Tony drawls. “You knew I’d fallen, right? You were waiting for me.”

Loki sighs and turns away to wash the remains of salve off his hands. “You suddenly stopped praying. I worried.”

Tony looks at Loki, skeptical, but when Loki returns his gaze, he looks sincere enough. Maybe he’s just not used to worrying about someone else. Hell, Tony isn’t used to someone other than Jarvis or Rhodey worrying about him.

“I just fell on my face because I was distracted,” Tony says. “I think I’ll live. You can kiss it better if you want.”

Loki takes Tony’s hand and lifts it up to his lips to kiss his palm. Oh. When Loki lets go of his hand, Tony clears his throat and hops off the counter.

“Did you bring me clothes? It’s freezing, I can’t run around naked.”

“I could warm you up.”

Tony laughs. “Yeah, I walked right into that one.”

Loki grins back, but takes Tony’s hand again to drag him out of the bathroom. He put clothes on Tony’s bed, and Tony doesn’t hesitate to put them one. It’s one of Loki’s sweaters, for a change black instead of green – the sheer variety of colors in Loki’s closet is truly impressive – and a shockingly human looking pair of sweatpants. 

“Do you like wearing my clothes?” Loki asks, coming close to Tony again to tug at the sweater.

“Is that a trick question?”

“No,” Loki says, but judging by his grin, he could turn it into a trick question very easily. “You’ve taken to letting me choose your clothes very well, that’s all.”

Tony shrugs. He doesn’t want to admit that wearing clothes Loki chose feels good. Apart from that, it’s handy. Considering how few clothes Tony brought, it’s good that he doesn’t have to worry about wearing something nice. 

Not like he cares about what Loki thinks, anyway. 

(Convincing enough? No? Crap.)

“It’s okay,” Tony says lamely, distracted by Loki’s hand that has found its way under the sweater. 

“What a relief,” Loki says, amused, and leans down for an almost kiss, making Tony hold his breath. “You don’t want to go back to deciding what you wear yourself?”

“Uh, no.”

Loki traps Tony’s chin between the index and thumb of his other hand, keeping him in place. “You should start asking me nicely, then, instead of expecting me to bring you clothes when you have need of them.”

Tony swallows. The proximity makes it difficult to focus, and Loki’s voice is not helping. Loki sounds like Tony should be on his knees right now, and Tony… doesn’t disagree. He can’t help but lean into Loki’s touch.

This is probably the moment where he should say something cocky. Unfortunately, he’s too breathless to make it work, and he feels like he can keep more dignity by shutting up than opening his mouth right now. It’s a futile attempt, probably, because judging by Loki’s smirk, he knows exactly what he’s doing to Tony. 

“Well?” Loki’s thumb draws a line from Tony’s lips to Tony’s throat, coming to rest just below his Adam’s apple. “Speak.”

So much for keeping his mouth shut, then. Tony gulps, in part only to feel the press of Loki’s fingers against his throat. 

“Okay,” he says, sounding way too excited.  “Yeah, I’ll ask.”

“Yes?” Loki says, pointedly. 

“Yes, Loki. I’ll ask.” He looks at Loki’s lips, still smirking, and squirms. “Loki –”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

Tony nods and tries to lean in, but Loki’s grip on his throat tightens, keeping him from closing the distance. 

“You know what to do,” Loki says, low and teasing, like they are playing some sort of game.

And they are, of course. Tony gets that now. He still needs a moment to get his tongue to work, to give in and ask – before Loki, he has never begged anyone to kiss him before. Why would he? People kiss him all the time. Most of them don’t even check if he’s into it first. He’s Tony Stark, after all, known slut; of course he’s into it.

“Please,” he says, finally. “Kiss me?”

Loki does. At once. He cups Tony’s face and kisses him until Tony is dizzy, like he’s been hungry for it, too. Without breaking the kiss, Loki pushes Tony toward the bed, until the back of Tony’s knees hit the edge and he loses his balance, falling backward. Loki lands on top of him, finding his mouth again with ease. For someone who doesn’t even want to get off, he kisses pretty dirty. Not that Tony is complaining. Tony squirms under him, spreading his legs, one hand stroking over Loki’s back and rucking up his shirt. He shivers when he feels bare skin, god, he wants to touch. So bad. 

Loki pushes himself up on his hands, looking down at Tony. His lips are red, eyes bright. “Do you want something, darling?”

Staring at Loki’s mouth makes Tony think about blowjobs again. Fuck. He can’t, though. Ask for that. Can he? Or for something else. Loki said it, sure, said I like giving you what you need, all sincere and shit, but Tony – well, it’s not like he didn’t believe him, it’s just. Maybe he’s too proud. To ask, to beg. A kiss is one thing, but begging Loki to touch him – or suck him off, god forbid, or even for permission to touch himself – like he needs permission at all, come on. What was that about keeping his dignity? He can watch it go down the drain right this second. 

“Hmm.” Loki's smile is softer now, less playful. “Not quite there yet, are you?”

Tony doesn’t know what to say. Loki sits back on his knees between Tony’s spread legs. He touches Tony’s thighs, his hips. His hair is a bit of a mess; he’s so gorgeous that Tony’s breath catches in his throat.

“That’s fine,” Loki says. “We have time.”

“Yeah,” Tony agrees, voice tight. “Fifty-two days.”

Loki’s hands stop moving. He looks at Tony, expression turning somber. “Yes.”

Yes.

Tony huffs and hooks his feet around Loki’s lower back, using him as an anchor to pull himself up. Loki doesn’t move an inch; Tony’s weight doesn’t bother him at all. It’s a bit of a ridiculous thing to do, but the surprise on Loki’s face is worth it when they end up chest to chest, Tony’s legs still wrapped around him. 

“You’re bendy,” Loki says, curious. 

Tony snorts and touches Loki’s chest, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. “Yeah. Do you want to know a secret?”

“Please.”

“I took a ballet class once. In Boston.” In reaction to Loki’s blank stare, Tony widens his eyes. “I know, right? It was a bet. Rhodey’s fault. The teacher said I was pretty good.”

“Did they?”

“Yep. Natural flexibility. And my ass looks really good in leggings. Want to know another secret?”

Loki hums in affirmation, reaching up to cup Tony’s cheek. Tony wants to lean into it, close his eyes. 

“I liked it. I went all semester, every Tuesday night. Not even Rhodey knew.” He pauses. “If you tell anyone, I’ll end you.”

“I have nobody to tell,” Loki says flatly. He leans closer, touching their foreheads together. “Why did you stop going?”

“I don’t know. I went home for spring break, and – well. Stuff like that doesn’t hold my attention for long, really, so. I didn’t miss it.”

“You didn’t bring leggings here, did you?”

Tony does a double take. “Did I – no.”

“Pity.”

Tony laughs and pushes at Loki’s chest. “Yeah, I bet. Can we go downstairs now?”

“Yes. Chess?”

“Backgammon.”

Loki makes a face. 

“You just don’t like it because I’m better at it than you.”

“You are not.”

“Prove it.”

Loki tries, and fails. It’s adorable.

37

He asks, in the morning. He wakes up in Loki’s arms, which is familiar by now but still unbelievable, and when they are both somewhat awake and Tony has shuffled to the bathroom and back, he stands next to the bed, bouncing back and forth on his feet, and asks. 

“Can I, uhm. Have some clothes? Yours.”

Loki stops rubbing sleep out of his eye, perking up. “Yes, of course.”

Tony watches as Loki gets out of bed and goes into his closet to get some clothes. He comes back with similar clothes like the day before, and Tony takes them, wary.

“That’s it?” he asks. “No catch?”

“What sort of catch did you expect?” 

“I… don’t know?”

Loki smiles. He cups Tony’s face and kisses his forehead. “No catch, darling. Get dressed. I’ll take a shower, and then we can have breakfast, yes?”

“I – yeah. Okay.”

“Good boy.” Loki pulls back, looking at him. He arches a brow. “Alright?”

“Yes, yeah. Sure. Go and shower.”

He smirks, knowing, but doesn’t tease. He disappears into the bathroom, and Tony clutches the clothes against his chest for a moment. They smell like Loki.

*

The pillow is always there now, in the dining room, next to Loki’s chair. It’s Pavlov’s bell and Tony is the dog; he gets really excited when he sees the damn pillow. To be fair, he’s been excited all day, since yesterday, since before yesterday, okay, fine, maybe he’s just really horny. 

God. 

“I made soup,” he says when he stops next to the table, scowling. “Idiot.”

Loki is already seated, in the process of pouring himself a glass of wine. He looks at Tony, surprised. “Me?”

“What? No, not you, me. Just, soup. You know?”

“Oh.” A light goes on in Loki’s eyes. “Yes, I see. I could put it on the ground for you.”

“Very funny.”

“I would like to watch that. You would be incredibly embarrassed.”

“Haha, yes, absolutely. Red. I’ll get a spoon.”

Loki tilts his head to the side in acceptance. He’s sipping wine when Tony returns from the kitchen, holding up a spoon triumphantly. Loki smiles and takes it from him.

“I just wanted to make pumpkin soup,” Tony says sourly as he drops to his knees on the pillow, wincing even though the pillow is pretty soft. “It looked so good.”

“It does look good,” Loki says, soothing, and pulls one of the bowls closer to himself. “I’d let you lick it off my fingers, but that would be terribly messy.”

That finally makes Tony realize that he is disappointed because Loki can’t hand feed him soup, and that’s a really weird thing to be disappointed about. He flushes. Loki grins. Asshole. 

“You’re so very sweet,” Loki says, reaching down to ruffle Tony’s hair. “Color?”

The praise feels too good. Tony sighs. “Green, I’m fine.”

“Change positions, please. I don’t want you on your knees.”

“What? Why?”

Loki gives him a dry look. “Because your knee is still bruised.”

Oh, right, that’s why getting down on his knees hurt just now. Tony shrugs. “It’s not that bad.”

“Still.”

Tony shifts, sitting cross-legged on the pillow. The position is easier on his knee, that’s true. His stomach warms up in reaction to Loki – well, caring. Tony watches as Loki gathers a spoonful of soup and brings the spoon to Tony’s lips. He doesn’t spill a drop, but holds his other hand under the spoon just in case. Tony snorts, because this is ridiculous, and closes his lips around the spoon. The soup is good, which momentarily distracts him from being embarrassed.

“Oh, this is good,” he says before he even swallows, surprised. 

Loki smiles widely and tries it himself, then nods. “Yes, it is.”

“You like it?”

“Yes. Well done.”

“Huh. That’s wild.” Tony’s exhilaration fades when Loki moves to give him another spoonful. “Let’s, this is annoying, I’ll just get another spoon.”

Loki raises a brow. “Is it that different now that we are using cutlery?”

Probably not, no. Just awkward. More awkward. Tony tries to get up, but immediately Loki’s hand is on his shoulder, holding him down. 

“I don’t think so, pet,” he says. “After all, you’re exactly where you belong, aren‘t you?“

Tony‘s mouth is dry. He doesn‘t know how he got addicted to that tone of voice – condescending, like he really thinks Tony is less, someone who needs to be watched and directed and kept. Tony should hate that. He does, in a way; there is outrage boiling in his stomach, his throat, shame so sharp he can taste it. It feels good, though. He doesn’t know why, but there’s a staggering relief that comes with the shame. Maybe it’s good, being kept.  Tony doesn’t want to get up.

He looks at Loki, and Loki looks back, gaze steady. When Tony speaks, his voice comes out weaker than he would like. “At your feet?”

“At my feet,” Loki confirms, hand moving from Tony’s shoulder to the back of his head, scratching lightly. “Do you want me to keep feeding you?”

Tony glares up at the table. Damn soup. “Not with the spoon. I’m not a fucking toddler.”

“Alright.” Loki strokes through Tony’s hair one more time before he takes the spoon and brushes over it with his other hand, and then –

Two spoons. Huh.

“You’re not supposed to use magic,” Tony tells him.

Loki puts one of the spoons into the second bowl, looking mildly exasperated. “That was child’s play, Anthony. I’m feeling more than well enough for that. Stop worrying.”

“I really didn’t like it when you passed out.”

Loki is quiet for a second. “I know.” He takes the bowl from the table and offers it to Tony. “Here, then. Careful, it’s hot.”

Tony keeps glaring, but takes it and puts it on his legs; the sting of the heat is good, it clears his head. He eats, and Loki does, too.

“Why do you like it so much?” Tony asks, not looking at Loki. “When I’m embarrassed.”

“Why do you like it?”

“Do you have an Uno reverse card? If not, answer my question.”

Loki smiles. “You clearly enjoy it, so much, but you’re so stubborn. So it is even better when you finally give in. It’s fascinating to watch.”

Tony thinks that over. “That… doesn’t answer my question.”

Loki gives him a sharp look that makes Tony think that Loki hoped he wouldn’t notice. Unimpressed, Tony stares back. Yeah, that won’t fly.

“Well,” Loki says, relenting. He eats more soup, takes his time swallowing. “It’s the power, certainly. Taking someone else apart makes me feel in control. I like making you blush, and squirm, and cry. I enjoy being cruel, as long as –”

He stops. He eats. Oh. He is embarrassed now. Tony looks up at him, waiting; Loki’s face is too blank. A good mask, but Tony isn’t fooled.

“As long as?” he asks. 

Loki glances at him, smiling. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “As long as I know I will get to fix it, after. If I bring you low, I can put you back together again. After.”

Tony swallows. He holds up his bowl of soup. “Here.”

Loki frowns. “Are you finished?”

“Yeah, I’m full. You can have it. There’s more, too.”

Loki hesitates, but then he takes the bowl and keeps eating. Hungry, yes. Tony scoots closer to Loki’s chair and leans his head against Loki’s leg, closing his eyes. Loki freezes and then, after a moment, his hand is in Tony’s hair again. 

“Anthony?” he says, alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Tony says, even as he thinks, I like you, shit, I like you so much. His throat is tight. “Just. Getting comfy. Don’t mind me.”

Loki hums and strokes Tony’s hair. “I’ll be done in a moment, and then we can – a movie, maybe? Would you like that?”

Tony shifts, cheek rubbing against Loki’s pants. “Yeah. We can – we should watch Lord of the Rings.”

“Oh, yes. You don’t want to read the books first?”

“Loki, I’m a twenty-two year old nerd. I’ve seen the movies.”

“Oh.”

*

They don’t watch the movie. Well, they do, as in, the movie is running while they are in the room. Tony hasn’t looked at the TV in a while, because Loki is doing the whole kissing him senseless thing again, so, sorry, Frodo, but this is so much more interesting than that ring of yours. 

Loki is heavy. Heavier than he looks, even as tall as he is; he always keeps a hand on the sofa in order not to crush Tony with his weight. Tony feels like goddamn putty under him, he can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t think – can only lie there and cling to him and kiss back. 

“What do you want?” Loki asks, kissing Tony’s neck, giving him a chance to breathe. “Oh, darling, you’re so hard. Tell me.”

Tony whines, frustrated. He rolls up his hips, trying to grind against Loki. It’s been days, and he’s been keyed up for ages, he just wants some relief.

“Stop that.”

It’s so sharp that Tony flinches, and stills. He stares up at Loki, shocked. Loki lifts his head, then sits up, his hands on Tony’s thighs. Tony is still wearing the pants Loki gave him this morning, but he can feel Loki’s touch through the fabric, firm and grounding. 

“Ask,” Loki says.

“I don’t –” Tony tries to think, god, his cock is throbbing. “You know.”

“I know what, pet?”

“What I want, you know –”

“Of course I do. You’re not exactly subtle. Do you know how often you stared at my mouth today?”

That obvious, huh. Shit. Tony winces and tries to sit up. “Don’t act like I’m  – you brought it up in the first place.”

“I did.” Loki simply grabs Tony and pulls him close, setting him down on his own thighs. His arms are like iron around Tony’s waist; he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. “You’ve been thinking about it ever since, have you? Just like I wanted. What do you think about, hm? Fucking my mouth? Coming down my throat? Tell me.”

“Not fair,” Tony gasps, because Loki’s hand is on his ass, squeezing and pressing him close against Loki at the same time. He holds Tony up easily, trapping his cock between their bodies.

“I don’t play fair, darling. Ever. Well?”

Tony squirms. “Let me –”

“No.”

Tony swallows a frustrated moan just in time. Arousal throbs in his belly and he keeps trying to get away, but it’s half-hearted, and Loki just keeps holding him, unimpressed. 

“Fine,” Tony spits. “Can I go upstairs and jerk off? Please.”

Loki sighs, long-suffering. “No.”

Tony stops squirming. “What do you mean, no?”

“No, you may not.”

“What? Bullshit, you said I only had to ask –”

“No, I told you to tell me what you wanted. That is not what you want.” One of Loki’s hands comes up to grip Tony’s jaw, he catches his gaze. “Why is this so difficult for you? Do you still worry I don’t want it? I do.”

Tony shakes his head. He tries to look away, but Loki won’t let him. He presses his lips together for a moment, willing the words to come out steady. They don’t. “I don’t know.”

“You are not at all used to asking for what you want, are you?“ Loki asks softly. “I wonder, is it because you usually get what you want without having to ask, or because you don’t, and you have decided that there is no point in asking at all?”

Tony grits his teeth. “No, that’s – no.”

“No? When was the last time you asked a lover for something you wanted, Anthony? Before me.”

Tony draws a blank. 

He thinks, dimly, that that’s probably not good. 

“I,” he says. “There’s, well, there’s not a lot of talking, usually. And I don’t – I don’t beg.”

“You have begged me before.”

“That’s – you – it’s different.”

Loki sighs. He’s getting frustrated, probably. Annoyed. There is a pang in Tony’s chest, he looks away, shutting off. He’s being too much of a mess, obviously. He doesn’t know why he can’t just – well. Be less of a mess. 

Loki hushes him and kisses his cheek, soft, soothing. “Don’t. You think too much, pet. Let’s see if I can help you stop, hm?”

“Do you want to give me a lobotomy?” Tony says flatly. 

Loki scrunches up his nose. “Gods. No.”

He wraps both arms around Tony again and lifts him up, getting off the sofa. Tony makes a panicked noise and slaps Loki’s chest. 

“No. No carrying, Christ, put me down.”

Loki chuckles and lets him put both feet on the ground, keeping a hand on his arm to steady him. He takes Tony’s hand, then, and pulls him out of the living room. 

“Where are we going?” Tony asks. 

“Upstairs. I want to show you my toys.”

“That’s cute, honey, but I don’t want to play with your model railway right now.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “Sex toys, Anthony. Keep up.”

Oh. Oh, okay. 

Chapter Text

37

“You know,” Tony says, “for someone who’s not into getting off you have a lot of stuff that’s meant to get people off.”

“I never claimed to be a nun,” Loki says, distracted, opening another drawer. “Hm. I wonder –”

He trails off. Tony just watches, because Loki is pretty hot when he thinks, hair messy from their earlier make out session, lips still red and swollen. 

“You’re not supposed to look at me, darling,” Loki says, without even looking at Tony. 

Tony, of course, blushes. His arousal has faded into a not awfully distracting background throb, but it makes itself known more insistently as he looks at the contents of the drawer Loki just opened. They are in Loki’s dressing room, and until now Tony thought that Loki kept stuff like watches and cufflinks in these slender drawers, but nope. Loki is too freaky for cufflinks, obviously. What was Tony thinking. 

“That’s a lot of whips,” he says blankly. 

Loki looks at the drawer, too, like he considers if it’s something worth being shocked by or not. In the end, he shrugs. “Not only whips.”

True. Just three, which is already more whips than Tony has seen in one place before. He’s not sure if he’s ever even seen a single one before, outside of porn, that is. They all have a different amount of tails, and there’s one that looks a little like a riding crop – Tony doesn’t know if that counts as a whip, too, he’s out of his depth here – and another cane thingy, and several paddles, wood, leather, with and without painful looking studs. All neatly laid out in the drawer with an inch or two of space between them, so that it’s easy to find and grab what you’re looking for. Tony has an eye for expensive shit; he may not know his way around this stuff, but he can tell that not a single thing in these drawers came cheap.

“I liked the first drawer better,” Tony says, meaning it as a joke. 

Loki, however, brightens. “Did you? Would you like that, then?”

Tony thinks about the dildos and plugs in the first drawer and swallows. “Uh. Not – I don’t know. Not now?”

That doesn’t dampen Loki’s smile at all. If anything, he seems happier. “Very well. I could whip you, certainly, that might take the edge off, but I’m not sure if it’s what you need. Is it?”

Tony stares at him. Is he supposed to just know, or what?

“Not tonight,” Loki says finally, making the decision himself. “No beating. Clamps, maybe? Would you like something simple or elaborate?”

That doesn’t clear anything up. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tony tells him, because he’s not sure if Loki is aware of that, and Tony doesn’t enjoy being out of the loop. 

Loki doesn’t seem annoyed. “We could continue what we started earlier. I would kiss and talk to you, tease you, and eventually, you would ask. I know you would, when you get desperate enough.”

“Can’t we just skip the asking?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you need to learn to ask,” Loki says, softly. After a pause, he adds, “And I like being asked.”

“I’m already plenty good at asking, thanks.” Tony crosses his arms, defensive because they both know it’s a lie. “I asked you for clothes this morning.”

“You did, and it was very good of you.” He looks at Tony for a second. “And there was no catch, was there?”

Tony clenches his teeth. It’s not his fucking fault that he expects there to be a catch; there always is. People always want something in return; if he asks for anything at all, the answer is and has always been, yes, sure, but only if you… Yeah. Only if you. 

“You know what to say if you want to stop,” Loki reminds him, gently, “and skip the asking, that is.”

Tony shakes his head. “That’s the simple option?” he asks, stubborn. “No gimmicks.”

“Exactly.”

“Right. And the other option?”

“That is what I am trying to figure out right now,” Loki says, a little dry. “I would like to take you deep. You would forget all about being embarrassed, eventually.”

He sounds confident, absolutely certain that he’s the best lay in the world, or something. He hasn’t given Tony reason to doubt that, really, just. 

“How?” Tony asks. 

Loki smiles. Patient. “I would tie you up, I think, and make you wait. Suffer, a little. Simple rules: when you beg me to suck you, I will. Until then, I can do with you what I like.” He grins. “Within reason, of course.”

“Of course,” Tony says, feeling hot. 

“What do you think, then?”

“What?”

Loki looks at him, raising a brow. “I’m asking for your opinion. Would you like me to tie you up? Do you have any ideas? Wishes, fantasies?”

Tony stares, unsure. Loki sounds so genuine, like he really wants Tony’s input. That’s not a new development, considering the many hours they spent negotiating that stupid list of rules, but it’s – well, so far, it has mostly been Loki’s show, right? But he also thinks about what Loki said the other night, I like giving you what you need. That’s what Loki is trying right now, Tony realizes that. 

Tony rubs the back of his neck, looking at the drawer. “I’ve got lots of fantasies, that’s not – Loki, I’ve just never used any of this, this stuff before. I don’t know.”

“That’s fine. I merely want to hear your thoughts. Is this too much?”

“No, I – no.” 

The drawer is still open, and Tony touches the whip closest to him, needing to fiddle with something. It’s good leather, the tails feel soft under his fingers, but god, he’s sure they would sting like a bitch. He’d like to try that, he thinks; no punishment this time, just him and Loki and a whip, that would – that could work. But tonight? No. He’s tired. He wants to stop freaking out all the time. 

“Tie me up how?” he asks, not looking at Loki.

“Well, let’s see,” Loki says, easy. He moves to close the drawer. “May I?”

Tony lets go of the whip, watches it disappear. Loki opens another drawer, and the first thing Tony sees is a set of cuffs. Four of them, thick leather, padded; they look almost comfortable. Chains. Leather straps with buckles and hooks. There is rope, too, whole bundles of it, and something that looks suspiciously like green silk.

“I don’t know what I expected,” Tony says, grin crooked, and lets the silk glide through his fingers. “You’re so predictable.”

“It’s pretty,” Loki says, defensive. 

Tony laughs. “Yeah. I mean, yeah, it is. That’s what you want, then?”

“No,” Loki says. His smile returns. “I was thinking rope, actually. The chair downstairs, at my desk. Your legs spread, I could kneel between them.”

Oh. Tony feels the tips of his ears heat up. “Right. So, this?”

He touches the rope – black, surprisingly soft. Not at all like the coarse stuff Tony keeps in the workshop just in case he needs to secure something in place.

“It’s soft enough,” Loki says, as if he read Tony’s mind. “But it can still chafe. You could keep your clothes on, if you like. Or would you prefer the bed? We could use the cuffs. That would be more comfortable than the chair.”

“I don’t mind being uncomfortable,” Tony says.

“I know.”

Tony lets his eyes wander over the contents of the drawer. He spots a blindfold in the right corner, thick, soft fabric. He imagines it at once; tied to a chair, unable to see a thing, Loki’s hands on him. Loki’s mouth on him. 

Tony swallows and points. “What about that?”

“The blindfold?”

“Yeah. I – I liked that. When. I mean, that girl I was with, she used my tie and it kept slipping, but. I’d like that.”

“A lovely idea,” Loki says, taking the blindfold and putting it on top of the dresser. “And the rest?”

“The chair. And, uhm, rope.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah.”

Loki studies him for a moment. “Because it is what I suggested? Or because you want to?”

Tony clears his throat. He fiddles with the rope again and, after a second of hesitation, takes a bundle out of the drawer and puts it next to the blindfold. “I want to. It’s – yeah.”

Loki smiles and picks up another buddle to add it to their selection. He closes the drawer. “You’re nervous.”

Tony wants to lean against him and bury his face against Loki’s shoulder, but he doesn’t. “Well, sue me.”

“We don’t have to, darling. We can try it another day, or not at all.”

“It’s not,” Tony says. “I’m – it’s good nervous. I think. I don’t know. You said –”

“Yes?”

“Clamps?”

Loki smirks and opens yet another drawer. Tony sighs, because he’s starting to wonder how often Loki uses this stuff, has used it on other people, and Tony doesn’t like thinking about that. Loki may have said that he doesn’t do this with his guests every year, but this sure looks like he has someone tied to his bed every weekend.

Loki takes out what looks like a fancy metal clothespin, padded with rubber at the tips, and offers it to Tony. Tony takes it and then has no idea what to do with it. He ends up pinning it to his thumb. It doesn’t do much. He looks at Loki, raising a brow.

Loki is smiling, amusement clear in his eyes. “Your nipples, I thought.”

“Oh,” Tony says. Well, that makes sense.

“No?”

Tony hesitates. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried it.”

“Do you want to?”

Tony adds the clamps to the image in his mind. He’s not sure about them, but – curious. He clears his throat and takes the clamp off his thumb. “Yeah, sure. What are those?”

Loki takes the clamp back and picks up two more, gaze following where Tony points. He grins. “My favorites.”

It’s a sleek wooden case, holding a set of small but sharp looking knives. Loki picks one of them up and frowns, running his thumb over the blade. 

“Dusty,” he says, displeased. “I need to clean them.”

His hand does something complicated, the knife spinning between his fingers before he slips it back into the case in a practiced movement. Tony isn’t sure what he just saw, but he thinks that if he tried it, he’d end up with several cuts. 

“Show-off,” he says, stunned. “You – really? You cut people for fun?”

“That is one way to put it, I suppose.”

“We should try that.”

Loki stills, looking at him. He blinks. “You – would want to?”

Tony flushes even more under his gaze. He tries to gather up the pitiful remains of his bravado and grins. “Why not? I bet you’re pretty good with them.”

The pleasure in Loki’s eyes is obvious, his smile almost giddy. He closes the drawer, though. “I am. But not tonight.”

“Aw. Why not?”

“It would be too much,” Loki says decisively. “Another time, when you have had some time to consider it. Which reminds me –” He puts the clamps next to the rope and the blindfold. “We do not have to do this tonight. Do you want to think about it first?”

“What’s there to think about? No. I’d just –” God, he would drive himself crazy. “No, let’s do it now. It’ll be –” He hesitates again. “Fun. Right?”

“Yes,” Loki agrees at once, pulling Tony close. He kisses his cheek. “It will be. Are you still nervous?”

It’s better, now that Loki is touching him. “I’m fine.”

“Hmm. It is fine if you are. As it turns out, you do have a functioning self-preservation instinct. I’m amazed.”

“What made you think I didn’t have one?”

“Do you have WiFi or are you too high and mighty for that?”

Tony blinks, because Loki switched accents. He usually sounds weirdly British for someone from outer space, but that just now was blatantly American. 

“Hey,” he says, realizing that Loki is making fun of him. “What the fuck.”

“That is what you said to me, a god, two minutes after promising me obedience.”

“Okay, can you talk normal? That’s creepy, stop it.”

“I have been thinking about going native,” Loki says, but thankfully he’s back to weirdly British. He throws the rope over his shoulder and grabs the blindfold and the clamps. With his other hand, he reaches for Tony’s and pulls him out of the room. 

“Don’t,” Tony says, flat. A thought crosses his mind. “Wait, don’t tell me you’ve been putting on an accent the whole time. What do you really sound like?”

“English isn’t my first language, Anthony. Do you need to use the bathroom?”

Surprised, Tony shrugs and heads to Loki’s bathroom, just to be sure. He has heard Loki speak Asgardian while they were reading, but when he speaks English, he sounds pretty much like he grew up in the posh side of London. His American accent sounded pretty convincing, too, though.

Tony snorts and washes his eyes, raising his voice so that Loki can hear him through the door. “I’m getting the suspicion you only have a British accent because you think it’s fancy.”

Loki pretends he didn’t hear him, even though he must have, considering his alien ears. Tony smirks. Busted.

*

“Do you want to keep on your clothes?” Loki asks as he puts the rope and everything on the desk. 

He gives no indication what he would prefer, but Tony can figure that one out himself. Loki likes it when he is naked, in general, and Tony isn’t afraid of a little rope burn. 

“No,” he says. “It’s fine.”

Loki smiles, beckons him closer. “Come here.”

Tony goes. Loki kisses him, slow, lingering, his hand under Tony’s chin. Tony’s nervousness doesn’t disappear, but it heats up and becomes pleasant, a tugging low in his stomach. Loki pulls back and takes off Tony’s shirt, pulling it over his head. Tony feels like he should say something, but doesn’t know what, and it’s not like Loki seems to expect him to. He just lets Loki undress him, slowly, with gentle hands. He folds Tony’s shirt and puts it on the desk. Tony’s pants get the same treatment, and when he is naked, Loki takes a moment to look at him, gaze wandering over Tony’s body.

“Sit down,” he says then. Well, orders.

Tony sits. It’s a fancy chair, wood, an ornate backrest. Of course Loki can’t have a normal desk chair, even if it would probably be better for his back. Tony doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he fiddles with the rim of the cushion under his thigh. 

“Hands on your thighs,” Loki says, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, one after the other.

Tony looks at Loki’s forearms for a second too long, probably, but then he puts his hands on his thighs. Loki smiles. Tony starts tapping a rhythm on his thighs. 

Loki takes the rope and comes to stand behind the chair. Tony expects him to get going at once, but when he looks over his shoulder, he sees Loki drop the rope. Tony frowns, but he feels a little more at ease when Loki puts a hand on his chest from behind.

“Now, let’s see,” Loki says, tone light. “I would like to tie your upper body to the chair, like this.”

“Mafia style, huh? You gonna let me live if I tell you where I hid the money?”

“That depends. If you keep running your mouth, I might not be that lenient.”

Tony’s breath stutters. He shifts, restless. “Death threats aren’t sexy.”

“No?” Loki chuckles. His thumb brushes through Tony’s chest hair. “I could tie your wrists to the chair separately – here, like this.” He takes one of Tony’s hands and guides it down to press it gently against the outer brace of the backrest. “I could also only tie your upper arms, then you would still be able to move your hands.”

Tony turns his head and looks up at Loki, who is watching him closely, waiting for a reaction. Tony can’t make himself look away from Loki’s eyes now, which is bad because Loki can probably see how much Tony wants.  

Ah, well. 

“Maybe I don’t want to move my hands,” he says, relieved when his voice sounds even.

Loki smiles. He squeezes Tony’s wrist before letting go of it. “And your legs? I could tie them to the chair, so you wouldn’t be able to close them. Too much?”

Tony thinks about it. Depending on how tight Loki ties him, he won’t be able to move at all, full stop. His breaths are already shallow. He is getting hard just from this, sitting naked on a chair in front of Loki, who is fully dressed and poised as ever, rope within reach. Maybe it shouldn’t feel so good, being at the mercy of a god who could quite literally snap him in half. It’s fucking exhilarating, though.

“Green,” Tony says, a little too quiet. He clears his throat.

“Lovely. I will put the blindfold on after, yes? So you can watch.”

Tony nods. That’s good. He thinks. “Okay.”

“Your safewords, Anthony?”

“I know them.”

“Indulge me.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Red for stop, yellow for pause. Green for go.”

“Thank you.” Loki’s hand returns to Tony’s chest, applying a little pressure. “Move back a little, darling.”

Tony scoots back on the chair so that his back is flush against it. He presses his arms against his sides, holding onto the edge of the seat with his fingertips. 

Loki touches Tony’s shoulder, fingers digging gently into the tense muscles. “Relax. Breathe.”

Tony lets out the air he didn’t even notice he was holding. He breathes in, and out. His shoulders slope a little, he squirms around a bit until he’s comfortable. Loki doesn’t comment, so maybe it’s okay to slouch a little.

“Lift your arms,” Loki says, and it’s clearly a command, but there is no sharpness in it – like he thinks there is no need for it, because of course Tony will do as he’s told. Why wouldn’t he?

Tony lifts his arms. He cranes his neck, watches Loki lay the rope around Tony’s abdomen and tugs until it sits snugly. Tony hears the soft rustling of the rope as Loki makes a knot behind the backrest. Tony wonders what it looks like; it’s probably something nice and elaborate. Pretty. Loki has a thing for pretty. 

Loki slides a finger underneath the rope, at Tony’s hip, his stomach. 

“You can make it tighter,” Tony says, hesitant. 

“No, this is fine,” Loki says. Tony can hear his smile. “It might press against your bladder – if it gets uncomfortable, tell me.”

Tony nods. 

Loki puts his hand on the side of Tony’s neck, fingertips pressing slightly against his throat. “Words, pet.”

Tony sighs. “Yes, Loki. I’ll tell you if I suddenly need a bottle to piss in.”

The hand disappears. Loki loops the rope around Tony‘s chest, once, twice. 

“What,” Tony says, breath catching in his throat, “no bitching about my attitude?”

“You will lose it soon enough,” Loki says, unbothered. “Take a deep breath.”

Frowning, Tony does, chest rising. Loki hums and pulls the rope snug before he makes another knot. He maneuvers Tony’s left arm where he wants it and ties it to the backrest. Tony feels the rope slide around his upper arm, and suddenly he gets very aware of how it feels around his stomach, too.

He squirms. Loki shushes him. He bends Tony’s arm back slightly so that he can wrap rope around the lower half of his forearm, shy above his wrist, and tie it to the backrest as well. 

“Comfortable?”

“Uh.” Tony arches his back a little as he tries to move his arm, only to find that he can’t, really. He can turn his wrist and wriggle his fingers, but that’s about it. The position will likely become uncomfortable after a while, but it’s not too bad. “I – yeah.”

Loki repeats the process with Tony’s other arm. He works slowly, methodically; the slide of rope against Tony’s skin tickles a little, but it never burns. Tony tries his best to keep breathing evenly, even though he’s so turned on by now that he can barely hold still. He knows what he looks like, naked, tied to the chair, with his cock so hard that it’s jutting up against his stomach, almost brushing against the rope. 

“There we go,” Loki says, voice low, his hand on the back of Tony’s neck. “How does it feel?”

Tony’s throat feels dry. He swallows. Good, shit, it feels good. He moves a little, testing the give of the rope – it’s not too tight, really, if he keeps wriggling and making the right movements, maybe he could get free. Maybe not. Loki’s thumb rubs soothing circles against Tony’s neck, and Tony shivers under the touch. 

“Okay,” he says finally. Understatement. He exhales. “It’s good.”

“Does anything hurt? Tingle?”

“No.” Before Loki can even say it, Tony adds, “I’ll tell you. If it does.”

“Good boy,” Loki says, squeezing the back of Tony’s neck. “Very good.”

He comes around the chair and Tony’s face heats up even more. It was easier when Loki was standing behind him, still close, but not – seeing everything. He looks at Loki, sees Loki look at him in return, at his chest and arms, his cock. Loki smirks, but doesn’t comment. 

He takes the other bundle of rope and gets down on one knee. Tony frowns and peers down at himself – two lines of rope on his chest, his nipples in between, god, Loki definitely placed the rope like that on purpose. Then around his abdomen, and his arms and wrists –

“Wait, how – how many pieces of rope did you use?” 

“Just the one,” Loki says. His hands are warm on Loki’s leg, tucking his ankle against the chair leg. 

“Bullshit. Really?”

Loki smirks up at him and Tony realizes, far too late, that Loki has done this before. Well, of course he has, since he has the rope and everything, but. He’s good at it. And the rope is long, sure, but that was still – fiddly. Right? And it doesn’t cut into Tony’s flesh anywhere, just sits snugly against his skin, the same amount of pressure in all places. It’s comfortable, in a weird way. Easy to sink into. 

Loki wraps the rope around Tony’s calf. Ties it to the chair. Tony can watch, this time; the way Loki’s hands move, steady and sure. He uses just one length of rope for Tony’s legs, too, loops it to the other side easily, a knot in the middle that Tony thinks is only there for aesthetic purposes. Loki brings Tony’s other leg in position and repeats the movements he already did on the other side. Tony can’t yank his eyes away. Even when Loki is done and stands up, Tony keeps looking down at himself. He tries to move his legs, but there is barely any wiggle room. The black rope looks good against his skin, he thinks. 

“Color, darling?”

Tony looks at Loki. He needs a second to understand the question, then he blinks and shakes his head at himself. “I’m fine. Green.”

Loki’s smile is sharp. Tony’s belly flips. Loki cups his face, strokes his cheeks, and Tony almost closes his eyes and rubs his face against Loki’s palm like he’s a fucking cat. Loki’s touch feels so good, that’s all. He lets out a shuddering breath and shifts slightly. Or tries to. The realization that he can’t move much at all dials up the heat in his stomach. 

“You are beautiful like this,” Loki says. It sounds earnest. “Perfect. Do you like it?”

Tony nods. Loki grasps a fistful of his hair and pulls, making Tony hiss. The pain makes everything sharper, especially since he can’t even try to move away. 

“Words,” Loki says, casual. Almost bored.

“Yes,” Tony gets out, breathless, then catches himself. “Yes, Loki. I like it.”

The grip on his hair softens to a caress. Tony holds his breath, waits for the good boy or something, anything like that, but it doesn’t come. It’s in the way Loki strokes his hair, maybe, but Tony still itches to hear it. 

Loki steps away to reach for something on the desk. Tony shivers, unsure whether he feels hot or cold. He tugs a little at the rope that ties his arms to the chair, but it doesn’t budge. He feels vulnerable like this, open, like – like Loki could do anything to him, and Tony couldn’t do a single thing about it. Worse, he’d probably like it. As long as Loki keeps touching him. 

Loki holds up the blindfold. “Color?”

Tony swallows thickly, his throat aches. He wants it so badly his head is spinning with it, wants more. “Green.”

It comes out hoarse, unsteady. Loki frowns. “Are you sure, pet?”

“Yeah.” Tony tries to clear his throat. “Yes, I’m fine. Green, seriously.”

Loki’s eyes soften. He turns back to the desk, and now Tony is grateful they made a detour to the kitchen on their way downtown to get a bottle of water. Loki pours a glass and steps close, between Tony’s legs, to hold the glance against his lips. 

Tony glances at him, then drinks. He stops when the glass is half empty and licks his lips. That helped, actually. “Thanks.”

“I want you to tell me when you need something,” Loki says, only slightly admonishing. “More?”

Tony shakes his head. Loki sets the glass back on the desk. He walks around the chair again to fasten the blindfold around Tony’s head. He does it slowly, so Tony knows that it’s coming, but his breath still catches when the fabric settles over his eyes. It doesn’t let in any light. He hears his blood rushing in his ears. Loki’s hands disappear. 

Tony hears steps, and panics. 

“Don’t go,” he says, too fast, voice cracking. “Loki?”

“I won’t,” Loki says at once, and his hands come back, thank god, he’s standing in front of Tony now, hands on Tony’s shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t go.”

“I won’t,” Loki repeats, patient. “I’ll stay with you. I promise. Steady, darling. I’m here. Take a breath for me.”

Tony does. In and out, in and out. Loki strokes his hair and pets his face, his throat and shoulders, just touches him. Slowly, breath by breath, Tony calms down. His heart stops trying to burst out of his chest. He’s so aware of every single stroke of Loki’s fingertips, hungry for more. But now that the sudden fear is gone, shame makes an appearance. Begging Loki not to go like he’s a child afraid of the dark, what was he thinking?

“Sorry,” he says, faintly. 

“No need.” Loki brushes Tony’s hair out of his face. “Would it help if you could see me? We can take the blindfold off.”

Tony leans toward Loki as well as he can. The thing is, the blindfold – it’s safer, almost. Like he doesn’t have to watch what his face is doing as much. And it’s exciting, not being able to see what Loki is doing. Difficult, but exciting. 

“No, I –” He swallows, forces the words out. “I like it. It’s just.”

“A lot, hm?” Loki says when Tony doesn’t continue. “I understand. It’s hard, I know. You’re so brave. Such a good boy.”

It could sound condescending, sarcastic even, but Loki says it like he means every word. Tony wants to melt into him, into those words; nobody ever thinks he’s good. Even Rhodey is pissed at him a lot of the time, even Jarvis – well. Loki is the first. 

“There you are,” Loki says, smile audible. “You like to hear that, yes? You like it when I tell you how good you are.”

Tony lets out a sigh, shivering when he feels Loki’s nails scratch over his scalp. “Maybe?”

Loki snorts, and Tony feels his mouth twitch in reaction. He feels better now. Quiet. He can hear Loki’s breaths. 

“Well,” Loki says softly, “you’re being very good for me, Anthony. Marvelous. I am a liar, but not about this. Never about this.” 

His hands slide down Tony’s neck to his chest, gentle but firm. He follows the rope with his fingertips, brushes over a nipple. He strokes down Tony’s side, the touch too light; Tony flinches away. Loki chuckles, but doesn’t say anything. He keeps touching Tony, and maybe it would feel innocent if Tony wasn’t still rock hard. Under the blindfold, he closes his eyes, enjoying the warmth of Loki’s touches, the goosebumps that follow his fingertips everywhere they go. Now and then, Loki’s fingers slide over the almost healed bite wound on Tony’s shoulder, and every time Tony shudders. He relaxes against the chair, now and then pushing against the rope just to see if he can. Or maybe to remind himself that he cannot. 

“Tell me the rules.”

Tony feels drowsy. He swallows, tongue heavy in his mouth. “Hmm?”

“The rules, pet. I told you. Do you remember?”

Tony turns his face toward Loki, or toward where his voice comes from, anyway. He remembers. It pulls at something in his guts, hot and aching. “You… if I ask, you’ll – suck me.”

“I will,” Loki agrees. He plays with Tony’s nipple, rubbing the nub between two fingertips. “And?”

“You can do what you want. Until then.”

“Precisely. Good boy. So clever. As soon as my mouth is on you, you have my permission to come.”

God, Tony feels like he’s either going to explode or melt, torn between impatient arousal and the odd urge to just lean back and let Loki do whatever he wants. Especially if it involves his mouth on Tony’s cock. Maybe the blindfold was a bad idea, after all, when it means that he won’t get to watch Loki sucking him off.

If he asks at all, that is. He’s still unsure about it – it’s not like he never encouraged somebody to give him a blowjob before, but the usual c’mon, baby, suck my cock dirty talk would feel weird, considering that it’s Loki. And so far, Tony has only ever babbled like that when his partner was already in the middle of it – he has never really had to ask before. 

“Are you ready to beg?” Loki pinches Tony’s nipple, hard, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Or do I have to help?”

Tony almost whines. He’s so hard, has been for so long; he just wants Loki to touch him. He bites down on his lip to stifle any noise that might want to slip out. 

“Sweet thing,” Loki says. His fingers tug; Tony grits his teeth. “So helpless. I’m sorry, am I hurting you?”

Tony squirms, but doesn’t even know whether he is trying to get away from Loki’s touch or arch into it. “Yes – yes, Loki.”

“Good.” Loki finally lets go of Tony’s nipple, rubbing over it with his thumb. “Let’s make it worse, shall we?”

Tony knows what’s coming now. He tries to shift and, surprise, still can’t. His breath quickens. Loki’s hands are gone, but his leg is pressed against Tony’s knee, and Tony is glad for even that small amount of contact. Tony listens so closely for every noise, every movement – nothing else is as important as the next touch, the next command, and with that feeling comes an intimate buzz in the air. Just Loki, nothing else.

“This will be a little cold,” Loki warns softly, and then something cold and hard does indeed touch Tony’s chest. He tenses up, but relaxes again when he realizes that Loki is just running one of the clamps over his skin. “Give me a color, love.”

“I can take it,” Tony says, focusing on the feel of the metal on his skin. 

“I know you can. Do you want to?”

“Green,” Tony says, at once. He’s desperate for it, suddenly, desperate to feel something more intense than those sweet touches, he wants – god, he wants. “Don’t – don’t make me wait, come on, I –”

Loki grips Tony’s chin and turns his face, fingertips pressing hard into his jaw. “Stop. My pace, not yours. Is that clear?” 

The tone of voice goes straight to Tony’s cock. He bites his lip again. 

Loki lets Tony feel his fingernails. “Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Tony says, quickly. “Yes, Loki.”

Loki lets go of his jaw. Tony opens his mouth even though he doesn’t know what to say, but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything, anyway. Something pinches his nipple hard and stays there, and this time, it’s not Loki’s hand. He hisses, more in shock than anything else – the pinch hurts, sure, but after a moment it fades into a dull throb that stings only when he moves and jostles the clamp. It hurts, but it hurts so good. 

Loki makes a soothing noise and runs his thumb along Tony’s lower lip where he is biting down again. “Stop that. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Tony lets out a shaky breath. “Ass.”

Loki laughs, delighted. “I was planning to take it off gently, but just for that, I think I’ll pull it off instead.”

Tony shudders. He tugs at the ties, trying to move his hips. Rope brushes against the tip of his cock, and Tony feels hazy. “Loki –”

“Oh, I know, I know.” Loki’s fingers trail down the middle of Tony’s chest, over the rope. Tony holds his breath, hoping Loki will touch his cock, but Loki’s hand stops a few inches above. “You haven’t gone softer at all, have you? Look at you, making a mess. You’ll leak all over my rope like this.”

And then, he does touch Tony’s cock, just for a second to stroke over the swollen head, too quick and light to bring any relief. Tony’s chest hurts with a sob that wants to get out. 

“Open your mouth.”

Tony does. He can’t stop the surprised noise in time when Loki puts two fingers into his mouth, on his tongue. They are smeared with Tony’s precome, but he sucks them in greedily, anyway, because he thinks, hopes, that that’s what Loki wants. 

“Enough,” Loki drawls after a moment, pulling his fingers out. It leaves Tony panting. “Do you want the other clamp, pet?”

Tony nods before he can even think about it. He waits for it, aching, but Loki just sighs and says, “Stick out your tongue.”

Frowning under the blindfold, Tony obeys. Slowly. He flinches slightly when Loki touches his tongue, holding it between what must be his index and thumb. Tony would like to say what the fuck, but that would sound ridiculous, so he just makes an offended noise. 

“The next time you fail to answer a perfectly simple question, I will put a clamp here.” Loki tugs slightly at Tony’s tongue. “If you want to use it only to insult me, you won’t get to use it at all.”

Tony tries to swallow and can’t, not without closing his mouth. He whines when he feels drool form around his tongue, mortified at the thought that Loki might make him drool all over his chin. Thankfully, Loki lets go of Tony’s tongue after a long moment. 

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, Loki,” Tony says, quickly, too quickly, but god, that voice makes him weak. 

“Excellent. So, again: do you want the other clamp?”

“Yes, Loki.”

Loki rewards him with a hand in his hair while the other one puts a second clamp on Tony’s other nipple. Tony makes a soft, pained noise; the sting of it shoots through his entire body and he doesn’t know what to do with it, where to put it, he can’t just swallow it all down anymore. He shudders and struggles against the rope, feeling it press into his flesh; he can’t move, he can’t do anything. 

“I can’t,” he says, voice wet and breaking. “I can’t, Loki, I –”

“Do you want to stop? Anthony, do you want to stop?”

God, that would be even worse. Tony shakes his head wildly. “No, no, just, I need – god, I – touch me, c’mon, just touch me, please –“

“Shh.” Loki cups Tony’s face and pets his cheeks below the blindfold. “I will, darling, I will. You’re so beautiful like this, taking the pain for me. So good.”

His hands sweep down Tony’s chest and Tony groans when they brush the clamps, but they don’t stop there. Loki reaches down, down, down, and Tony moans and tries to buck his hips when he feels Loki’s hand on his balls, fondling gently. His other hand strokes Tony’s inner thigh, making him twitch. 

“So tight,” Loki murmurs. “Poor thing. Would you come within seconds if I let you?” He strokes along the underside of Tony’s cock with just a fingertip. “Even though I’ve barely touched you? I feel like you might.”

Tony pants and tries to push his cock against Loki’s hand, but the rope won’t let him. He whines, then sobs when Loki takes his hand away. “No, no, come on –”

“Are you sure that’s what you want, pet? My hand?” Loki flicks one of the clamps; Tony can hear the click of Loki’s nail hitting the metal as the sting of it gets worse. “Because I would much rather give you my mouth.”

He keeps playing with the clamp, and Tony can’t think . The pain feels too good, like liquid heat. 

“No?” Loki says, mock surprised. “Pity. It has been a long time since I wanted to do this for someone. You remember what I said, yes? That you only get my hands if you’re good?”

“Uh huh,” Tony gets out, remembering just in time that he’s supposed to use his words. “Yes, Loki.”

“Good boy. Then you can imagine how good someone has to be to make me want to use my mouth on them – and you are, darling, you’re that good. Astonishing.”

Tony’s entire body flushes even hotter at the praise. His eyes sting. 

“I have been thinking about it, you know,” Loki continues, voice much too warm. “Imagining how your pretty cock will feel on my tongue, hot and heavy. What lovely sounds you will make. I want to taste you, pet. Won’t you let me?”

Tony can’t get the words out. He sobs instead, and Loki shushes him and strokes his cheek. 

“We’ll take the clamps off first, then,” he says. “I want you to count down from three to one. I will pull it off on one. Can you do that for me?”

Tony sniffs and nods, pressing his cheek against Loki’s hand. “Yes, Loki.”

“Good pet.” Loki tugs slightly at one of the clamps, the first one he put on. “Count.”

“Three,” Tony says. Swallows. His tongue feels too thick in his mouth, sluggish. “Two –”

He flinches, expecting Loki to pull earlier for some reason, but Loki doesn’t. He just waits. Tony takes a breath. And then another, but the last number doesn’t want to pass his lips just yet. It will hurt, he knows, and even though he’s not scared of pain, he shakes. Loki keeps waiting, a steady presence right in front of him even though Tony can’t see him. Finally, the waiting gets impossible to bear.

“One,” he blurts, and as soon as the word leaves his mouth, Loki pulls. 

The anticipation was worse than the actual pain, but Tony still cries out and thrashes, tears now running over his face. Loki makes a low, pleased noise and rubs Tony’s sore nipple until the pain eases. Tony’s stomach clenches; he feels so close, somehow, teetering on the edge even though he can’t possibly come untouched. He feels fucking high. 

“Again,” Loki orders, already touching the second clamp. 

Tony counts again. Three, two, one. He cries, and it feels fantastic, and there is nothing else than this. Loki‘s hands on him in the darkness created by the blindfold, the stinging pain, the need thrumming in his guts. 

“Please,” he begs between gasping breaths, toes curling against the wood. “Please, I need, I –”

“Yes, pet? Tell me.”

“Your mouth, fuck, please – can I – can I have it? Please, Loki, please –”

He stops because there is an odd noise. Only when he feels Loki’s hands stroke up his thighs he realizes that that dull sound was Loki’s knees hitting the carpet. 

“Oh fuck,” he says before Loki’s tongue even touches his cock, and then it does. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.”

Loki chuckles softly and closes his lips around the head of Tony‘s cock, tongue sliding over the underside. The sound Tony makes isn’t quite human. His brain short-circuits; it feels too good, the wet heat of Loki’s mouth, the white-hot waves of pleasure rolling through Tony’s abdomen. Loki takes his time, teasing the head of Tony’s cock with a clever tongue, sliding his lips further down slowly while his hands knead Tony’s thighs. Tony gasps and moans, maybe babbles out some more curses, he isn’t sure and doesn’t care. Loki swallows around Tony’s cock, takes it deeper; Tony thinks he hits the back of Loki’s throat. His stomach clenches, he’s close, he’s already so close, but Loki doesn’t give him a chance to draw this out, and Tony is beyond worrying about that. 

He comes hard and fast, in the end, while Loki swallows around him, nose pressed into Tony’s pubic hair. Tony’s hips keep twitching for a while, and when the orgasm subsides he’s still dizzy, desperately trying to catch his breath. Loki’s tongue slides over the length of Tony’s now softening cock once more and Tony whines, too sensitive. 

Loki pulls back and coughs quietly. His clothes rustle as he stands up. 

“Was that – did you like that?” Tony asks, out of breath, voice shaking. “Was it okay?”

“More than,” Loki says immediately, warm and reassuring. His hand returns to Tony’s hair. “I liked it very much. You did so well, my darling. Exactly what I wanted. And now I want you to lean back and relax while I untie you, hm?”

“Okay,” Tony murmurs and turns his head to the side when Loki strokes his cheek, pressing his nose into Loki’s palm. He smells nice. 

“Good boy. I’m so proud of you, pet. I will do your legs first.”

Tony hums in acknowledgement, too blissed out to speak now that he knows Loki is pleased. Loki moves again, and after a second starts undoing the rope around Tony’s legs. Tony just lets it happen, breaths evening out. He barely even notices when Loki moves on to his arms. They feel pleasantly sore; Tony absentmindedly wriggles his fingers of one hand while Loki runs his hand over Tony’s other arm. 

“Can you stay sitting up?”

He’s right next to Tony, so Tony mutters something that’s supposed to be yeah, sure and leans against Loki as well as he can, resting his forehead against Loki’s stomach. Loki chuckles and pets his hair. He somehow manages to loosen the rest of the rope enough that it falls to the floor when he squeezes an arm under Tony’s knees and picks him up. Tony holds onto Loki instinctively, but doesn’t protest. He really doesn’t want to walk, anyway.

Loki carries him upstairs. He sets Tony down on the bed and lets him lie down. Tony stretches out like a content cat and stares at the ceiling, too relaxed to do anything at all.

“How do you feel?” Loki kneels next to Tony, running two hands over Tony’s calf. “Does anything hurt?”

Tony shakes his head. His nipples are sore, but it’s not too bad. He gives Loki a lazy grin. “Really good. I feel really good.”

“I’m glad.”

“Like, really good.”

“Well, then I am really glad. There is a bit of rope burn, but nothing worrying. I would like to put some lotion on it, anyway.”

“Knock yourself out.”

“I’ll be right back,” Loki says and stands up.

Tony props himself up on his elbows, frowning, but Loki just goes to the bathroom. He leaves the door open; Tony can still see him opening the cabinet and rummaging around. Mollified, Tony looks down at himself. He blinks and sits up, flexing his feet. The rope left imprints in his skin, but there are barely any grazes. It looks good. He likes it.

Loki returns after a minute with a tube of lotion that looks decidedly Midgardian. He shows it to Tony before he even opens it, and Tony shrugs, not really caring. He sighs when Loki starts putting the lotion on his legs, fingertips digging into the muscles just perfectly. He does Tony’s arm and chest, too, paying a little more attention to Tony’s wrists. 

“Would you like to have some of my clothes to sleep in?” Loki says. “Or would you rather stay naked?”

Tony doesn’t really want to think right now. “You choose.”

“Clothes or no clothes, darling?”

Tony frowns, but makes a decision after a moment. “Clothes.”

“Very well.” Loki puts the lotion aside and stands up again, this time to go into his dressing room. He comes back wearing other clothes himself and carrying a simple t-shirt and pyjama pants. “Put these on, please.”

Tony groans, but grabs the pants and wriggles his way into them without standing up. The shirt is a lot easier to deal with. 

“Do you want water or something else? Maybe something sweet?”

“Just water’s fine.”

Loki procures a glass of water for him and hands it over. Tony drinks and then lies back down, wanting that nice hazy feeling to come back. It’s getting out of reach now, though; leaving him relaxed and happy, but a lot more aware of his surroundings. Subspace, he realizes. Right.

He yawns. “Please don’t make me do math right now.”

“I won’t,” Loki says, chuckling, and finally gets into the bed with Tony properly. “Do you need anything else? Or straight to sleep?”

“Sleep sounds good.” Tony tucks himself against Loki’s side, putting a hand on Loki’s chest. “Was that really okay?”

“It was perfect. I enjoyed it very much.”

Tony hides his face against Loki’s shoulder. “Me too.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah. Just, you coughed.”

Loki snorts. “You notice everything, don’t you? Stop fretting. I’m dreadfully out of practice, that’s all.”

“You didn’t have to swallow.”

“I wanted to.”

Tony sighs. Loki starts playing with his hair. After a while, Tony says, “Loki?”

“Yes, pet?”

“Did you get a lot of worship out of that?”

There is a pause before Loki answers. “Quite a bit, yes. But that is not why I –”

“I know,” Tony hurries to say, even though he doesn’t, really. “Just curious.”

Loki hums. Tony keeps his eyes closed, but sleep doesn’t come. Loki seems to notice, because he offers, “I could read to you.”

Tony nods, and Loki magics a book into his hand. Good old Tolkien. Tony is out like a light within minutes.

Chapter Text

38

Tony wakes up still tucked against Loki’s chest. Loki’s even breaths brush against Tony’s hair, he’s still sound asleep. Tony disentangles himself carefully and pads to the bathroom as quietly as he can. Loki is still sleeping when he comes back, but he stirs slightly when Tony lies down next to him again. Tony stops moving, and after a few seconds Loki relaxes again, drifting deeper into sleep. 

Tony watches. He’s awake now, sleep way out of reach, and this is usually the point he leaves someone’s bed for good, because there’s no point in lying around next to someone doing nothing. 

He doesn’t want to leave right now, though. He wants to stay. 

And when he realizes that, his stomach plummets. 

*

“I still think this is a bad idea.”

“Yeah, well, I think it’s a brilliant idea. Shit, tell me again why you don’t have a garage.”

“I don’t have a car,” Loki says, annoyed. 

Tony sighs. His skin feels too tight. He brushes more leaves off the roof of his car that has been standing in front of the house for more than a month. What mansion in upstate New York doesn’t have a garage, honestly?

“We could have lunch here,” Loki says. 

“I told you, you don’t have to come along.”

Loki crosses his arms. “I know.”

“Okay, cool, so either come along or don’t, but stop being a bitch about it.”

For a second, Loki looks thoroughly stunned. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Tony pauses, his hand already on the car door. “Loki, come on. You said I could go.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

“No, you’re just being all sad and mopey to make me stay. And it’s fine if you don’t want to go, but if I have to look at all these trees for another day, I’ll lose my mind. It’s been three weeks since I saw concrete and miserable people, I’m going crazy. Okay?”

Loki shrugs, indifferent. It’s most definitely an act. “Fine.”

“Fine,” Tony parrots and opens the car door, expecting Loki to walk back to the house with that stony expression that is his version of a pout. They have been going back and forth on this all day; Tony itches to leave the house and see faces that aren’t Loki’s or his own, but Loki seems to have no such needs. He’d rather stay in all day, read and cuddle and talk and – well, fine, that doesn’t sound too bad, but still. Tony can’t do that right now, he’d end up feeling alone with his thoughts, and his thoughts are incredibly annoying right now. 

Loki sits down on the passenger seat, stony pout in place. Tony blinks at him. He didn’t really expect Loki to come along when he suggested it, because it’s pretty clear that Loki never hangs around the town he technically lives in. And now he does want to come along? And have lunch? In public?

Loki looks at Tony, unimpressed. 

“Seatbelt,” Tony says blankly, because he feels like anything else would scare Loki off again. 

Loki keeps looking unimpressed. 

“Seatbelt, come on.”

Loki rolls his eyes and buckles up. Tony rolls his eyes right back and starts the car. 

Fucking gods. 

*

Loki’s eyes are glued to the window the second they enter the town. He looks out of place in this car, surreal – Tony spends half the drive wondering if his brain didn’t just photoshop Loki in while the real Loki is still in his house, reading and ignoring the world he despises. 

“This is bigger than I remember,” Loki says, distant. 

Tony frowns. “You come through here every year on your way to New York, don’t you?”

“I never paid attention.”

Yes, why would he. 

“I knew, of course,” Loki adds, and Tony would like to think he noticed how callous that sounded to human ears, but Loki still sounds distracted. “Rationally. But it was such a small town when I came here – of course, that was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, well.” Tony glances at the buildings passing them by; several stories high, squeezed into every open spot. “New York is full. For a lot of people, this is the next best thing.”

The only sign that Loki heard is a quiet hum. 

“I bet the rent is off the charts,” Tony says, pushing, always pushing, only this time it’s not out of mere spite. The anger is a surprise, honestly. 

“Why? It’s not very pretty, is it?”

Tony grips the steering wheel a little tighter. Because you live here, jackass, he wants to say, you, a god, five miles away from here, fuck, what kind of question is that? He’s not that blind, is he? Does he think people just know that the deal he renews every year is a lot weaker here than in the city itself? Does he think they care? Everyone Tony met in Boston sooner or later begged him to find them a place in New York or the suburbs, no matter if they’re pretty or not. When you grew up godless, every sliver of blessed land is worth dreaming about. 

“No,” Tony says. “It’s not pretty.”

Loki looks at him now, Tony can feel it, but he keeps his eyes on the road. He’s suddenly not very hungry anymore. It’s a little early for lunch, anyway. 

“Let’s get milkshakes or something,” he says. “We can take a walk.”

“If you like.” Loki looks out of the window again. “I don’t think I’ve tried milkshakes before. If I have, I don’t remember.”

Tony takes a breath. Reminds himself that Loki is the only reason this part of the world is so much more inhabitable than the rest. And that a couple weeks ago, Loki was too sick to stay out of bed all day, let alone leave the house. The whole thing is a mess.

They stop in a drive-in of a restaurant Tony passed on his first trip downtown. He orders two milkshakes – he tries to convince Loki that vanilla is the best flavor even if it sounds boring, but Loki is set on strawberry. The cashier’s customer-service-smile freezes as soon as she looks through her window and spots Loki in the passenger seat. She doesn’t seem to be aware of much else as Tony pays.

“What, never seen a god before?” Tony says. “Give him his milkshake or he’ll smite you.”

She flinches and hands him the milkshakes. Tony winces and pushes them in Loki’s direction right away, who takes them and looks at them warily. 

“They’re not poisoned,” Tony says, driving away. “Probably.”

Loki sighs and looks out of the window again. Tony parks the car as soon as he finds a spot. It’s cold as fuck; it won’t be long until he’ll be shivering in his leather jacket despite of the thick sweater he’s wearing underneath. Loki’s, of course. (Tony put his foot down when Loki wanted him to wear one of his own coats; Tony would have looked ridiculous.) The sky is dark and clouded, not exactly the ideal conditions for a walk. Or for cold milkshakes. 

He walks around the car to join Loki on the sidewalk. Loki hands him one of the milkshakes, and Tony frowns when he notices it’s the pink one. 

“I prefer this one,” Loki says, holding the vanilla milkshake close to his chest as if he expects Tony to yank it away from him. 

Tony rolls his eyes, but can’t keep from smiling. If the girl at the drive-in had known that the scary god was also fucking ridiculous, she would have been a lot less scared.

“We should’ve gotten hot cocoa or something,” Tony says, drawing up his shoulders as if that will keep him warm. “There’s a park somewhere over there, I think.”

Loki doesn’t seem to care much either way. As they cross the street, a man on the other side nearly walks into a lamp post staring at them. Loki glares at him, and the man flees.

“There is a reason I never come here,” Loki says, then slurps his – well, Tony’s – milkshake, still glaring.

“They’d probably be less terrified if you weren’t so grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“You’re Oscar the Grouch through and through. He’s even your favorite color.”

Loki looks suitably offended. Tony drinks his milkshake, satisfied. They find the park after a bit, it’s tiny and all the trees look miserable. They don’t talk. The silence is uncomfortable, but Tony doesn’t know what to say. The park is empty except for them and a woman walking her dog who looks at Loki like she isn’t sure if he is who she thinks he is. Loki smiles at her, which somehow isn’t better than him being grumpy. Tony wonders when he started finding Loki’s smiles charming instead of unsettling. That kind of familiarity feels weird here, out in the open, where everyone else only sees Loki as this strange being from outer space, someone who inspires fear and awe but never fondness. Maybe they should have stayed in the vacuum of Loki’s house after all. Tony doesn’t like this reminder that the outside world still exists. 

It starts to snow. Their milkshakes are long gone, they left the park, the streets are gray and empty. 

“We should get you somewhere warm,” Loki says. “Shall we go back to the car?”

“I’m hungry,” Tony says, even though he’s not, really. 

“Would you like to eat here?”

Tony looks at Loki – he’s been tense the whole time, wary, he should have stayed home. He wanted to stay home; it’s just that he wanted to stay with Tony a little more. There is too much warmth in Tony’s chest. Shit. This is bad. This is really bad. 

“No,” he says. “Let’s drive back. I’ll make us something.”

*

They have lunch in front of the windows in the library, watching the snow fall. It’s quiet. Loki keeps looking at Tony like he wants to say something and doesn’t know what. Tony tries not to look at Loki at all. 

Now that they are back in the house, his thoughts return to what they were obsessing about all morning – the day before, the blindfold and the rope – it was fun, that’s not the point. It was a lot of fun. He still feels high on it, but it turned into restlessness at some point, skin itching, doubt sneaking in. The trip downtown only made it worse. He just wanted a distraction, something normal, and hell, when he asked Loki to come along – well, that’s normal, right? Dates are normal. Tony wouldn’t know, he’s never actually dated anyone before, but still. Normal.

Stupid, that’s what it was.

He brings their empty plates to the kitchen. When he rinses them off before putting them in the dishwasher, his phone vibrates. He put most apps and contacts on silent, so there aren’t many options – he guesses it’s Rhodey, which is why he almost drops his phone when he sees that it’s his dad. 

Two messages, a link to some news site, and a text. Just two words, good move. Tony taps the link and stares at the picture on the top of the page – himself and Loki in the park, walking close to each other. 

Tony takes one look at it and then puts his phone screen down on the counter, trying to figure out why his stomach is doing fucking somersaults. He realizes that he’s going to puke just in time to bend over the sink. 

There goes lunch. 

Shuddering, he wipes his mouth and turns on the water. 

“Anthony?”

Fuck. 

“Yeah?” Tony says, trying to sound normal. His voice shakes. He cleans the sink, moving too quickly, like a child trying to hide the mess they made before mom comes in. 

Loki is already in the kitchen, coming too close. “I thought I heard –”

He cuts himself off. Damn him and his alien ears. 

Tony clears his throat and leans down to close the dishwasher with too much force. “I’m fine. All good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

Loki does not seem sure. “Did you –“ His gaze wanders to Tony’s phone. 

Tony grabs it and puts it into his pocket. Loki frowns. 

“I know I upset you earlier.”

“You didn’t.”

“I suppose I’m not used to – being outside,” Loki says haltingly. “In the last few years, I only left the house for –”

“New Year’s Eve.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah. It’s fine. I shouldn’t have dragged you along, it was – my fault.”

“No,” Loki says quickly, gently. “No, not at all. I shouldn’t have –”

“I said it’s fine,” Tony snaps. “Let’s just – forget it. Alright?”

“Do you want to go home?”

Tony stops short. To give his hands something to do, keep them from shaking, he grabs a towel and dries them even though they are dry already. “What?”

“To New York,” Loki says. “Manhattan. The drive isn’t too long. If you miss the city, you could –”

“Yeah,” Tony interrupts, voice tight. “Sure. Maybe. I’ll just – I need to get some work done, so. I’ll be upstairs for a bit.”

He tosses the towel away and grabs his phone. Loki doesn’t say anything, not even when Tony leaves him alone in the kitchen without looking back. He takes two steps at once on the stairs and locks the door to his room when he’s inside. He goes to brush his teeth; he feels disgusting. 

After, he sits on the closed toilet and stares at nothing. 

That’s what he is supposed to do, then, after this? When the eighty seven days are over? Just go home, back to his father who only ever sees him as just another one of SI’s assets, faulty, useless unless kept in line. Back to his mother who didn’t once call to check if he was alright. To his workshop, sure. That’s something he can return to, always, to build things until he’s dizzy and his hands are bruised and bloody, but what for? Another missile. Another presentation where people either belittle him because he’s way too young and messy or applaud him because he’s such a fucking prodigy, you must be so proud of your son, Mr. Stark, what a mind! 

Tony’s going to be sick again. He forces it down, leans forward with his elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. Closes his eyes. Thinks. 

It’s cruel, giving him something to want and then expecting him to leave and move on when the time is up. Do you want to go home? Yeah, sure. Where else can he go? This thing he wants, it won’t survive out there, anyway. Their trip downtown proved that well enough. Milkshakes, honestly, what was he thinking? Loki barely looked at him. And why would he? He will stay here in this house of his, where it’s quiet and lonely and pretty, and next year he will have another guest he can play with until he feels better. Three months, that’s the deal. And that’s fine, Tony can keep going like he did before, if he can – erase this, somehow. Enjoy it while it lasts and then stop thinking about it, it’s no use, anyway, it’s not real – it’s not his. If he thinks he’s in love, it’s just because they’ve been together nonstop for nearly a month and the sex is pretty good, so his body is just overreacting. Yeah, that’s it. Chemical overreaction. Problem solved. 

Fuck. If his dad knew –

No. No, that doesn’t matter; because this will end the second Tony leaves here. And as to the aftermath, If he can just stop wanting, he’ll be fine.

He snorts and rubs his eyes. At this point he might as well try to stop breathing. He lets his hands sink; what now? The nausea is gone, at least, replaced by exhaustion. God, if Rhodey could see him now, he’d never hear the end of it. 

After a while, he stands up. He almost goes straight to bed, wanting to curl up under a thick blanket and think about how fucked he is, but he forces himself to leave the room and go back downstairs. The kitchen is empty. Tony goes to the library and sure enough, Loki is there on the sofa, looking oddly forlorn without a book or cup of tea in his hands. He perks up when Tony comes in, like he’s been waiting. 

“Better?” he asks, because of course Tony was not subtle at all. 

He shrugs and lets himself drop down on the sofa. After a short moment of hesitation, he lies down and rests his head on Loki’s thigh, face turned away from Loki so he doesn’t have to look up at him. 

“I’m just tired,” he says. Yeah, best excuse ever. 

“I see,” Loki says, clearly not buying it. “Because of last night?”

“Last night?”

“You enjoyed what we did, didn’t you? It felt good.”

What sort of question is that? Of course it felt good, that’s the whole point. Too good. Being with Loki feels too good. He sighs. “You know it did.”

Loki hums. He touches Tony’s hair, carding his fingers through the strands. “Yes. When the high of subspace fades, there sometimes is a low. That may be the reason you have been so restless all day.”

Now Tony does turn his head to look up at Loki. He doesn’t like what he sees in Loki’s eyes, can’t tell whether Loki is being earnest or just giving him an out. Whatever. That explanation is better than the truth; that Tony has gone and fallen in love with a god of all people. 

“Yeah,” he says quietly, closing his eyes. “That’s probably it.”

Loki keeps stroking his hair. After a while, Tony reaches up and catches his hand to entwine their fingers. He likes feeling Loki’s hand against his own, longer fingers, less calloused. Loki says nothing, but lets him, even squeezes back slightly. Tony’s heart does something funny. 

He keeps his eyes shut. “Hey.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s pretend we’re snowed in until New Year’s.”

A beat.  “Alright.”

In love, honestly. Who even does that these days?

40

He looks for distractions. He wakes up long before sunrise and works on some coding, ignoring Loki’s grumbling next to him – it fades soon enough, anyway, and Loki falls back asleep with his nose pressed against Tony’s thigh in a way that can’t possibly be comfortable. 

After breakfast, he goes running, two too fast rounds around the lake. He makes an elaborate breakfast and an even more elaborate lunch, both of which go awry just slightly. He’s thankful for the excuse that Loki is just so damn hungry now that he’s healing, that way he can make mountains of food without it being too obvious that he’s just trying to keep his hands busy. He even scrubs the kitchen clean after lunch, because his fingers are itching and he can’t build anything here, so what else is there to do? And then he bakes a cake, because they are out of muffins and Loki liked them so why shouldn’t Tony bake a cake as well, but it ends up too dry and burned and just all together terrible so he throws it away immediately. He almost starts a second attempt but then decides that that would be even more pathetic; who even needs two attempts to bake a perfectly simple vanilla cake?

Loki follows him around all day. He’s not very obvious about it, but Tony notices all the same. Loki lets him do what he wants but keeps an eye on him, like he expects Tony to blow up any second. Tony would like to put an end to the waiting by screaming his lungs out, but what’s there to scream about, really? Forty. Forty. The number keeps rattling around in his brain, this is day forty, so that means there are forty-seven days left, and that doesn’t feel like enough. Maybe he should ask to stay – maybe Loki wouldn’t say no, maybe he would let Tony live here for a while longer, a few weeks, months, whatever. And Tony would be, what, a god’s live-in boy toy who cooks and cleans and does everything he’s told? Hardly. 

If he asked, he’d probably make a fool of himself, anyway.  

They spend the afternoon playing video games. They try out the old Artari Tony found in the attic, and then he gets his laptop from upstairs and lets Loki discover something newer. Loki’s reflexes are insanely good, so he doesn’t fumble quite as much as Tony hoped, but it’s still fun. He picks at his nail beds, wishing he had brought a controller. Somehow he didn’t expect to have any time to play video games. 

“Why do you keep making that noise?” Loki mutters, adorably stressed. “How do I make her stop?”

“You don’t,” Tony says. “Well, you beat her, then you don’t have to hear it again for a while. When she throws her needle – yeah, that needle you just ran into. Maybe try not to do that.”

“Thank you, I had not considered that.”

“You’re welcome. Try to get behind her and – don’t jump right into her when she does that swirly thing, either.”

“Your advice is truly indispensable.”

Tony nods and sticks the tip of his ring finger into his mouth. It’s bleeding. “You’re really bad at this.”

“I am not.”

He’s right, but Tony can’t help it, teasing him is too much fun. “I beat her in one try.”

“You did not,” Loki says, but he’s distracted. “If you keep doing that, I will tie your hands behind your back.”

Tony frowns. “What?”

“Your fingers,” Loki says without looking away from the screen. 

The frown turns into a scowl. Tony looks at his finger; it’s not bleeding anymore. He lets his hands sink. “Bad habit.”

“Clearly. Would you stop that?”

Tony thinks Loki means him, but apparently he is just talking to Hornet again. She yells at him again. Loki makes a frustrated noise, but after a few more seconds, the fight is over. He lost a second time, unfortunately. 

With a huff, Loki pushes the laptop away. “Time for dinner, I think.”

“Quitter,” Tony says. 

Loki looks at him. 

Tony raises a brow. Loki glances down at Tony’s hands. Tony does the same and realizes that he is picking at his nails again. He sighs and stops. 

“What, you gonna tie me up now?”

Loki makes a noncommittal noise. “I’d like something simple.”

“What?”

“For dinner.”

“Oh. Okay? What do you want?”

Loki gives him a sharp grin. “I’m sure you will figure it out.”

Tony squints. Fishy, but okay. He takes the laptop to save and end the game for now and then heads for the kitchen. Loki stays behind, so he probably won’t keep Tony company while cooking. Also fishy, especially after Loki kept his eyes glued to Tony all day. 

In the kitchen, Tony immediately spots something that wasn’t there when he made tea earlier. A rather weird looking loaf of bread on the counter, dark, but soft to the touch. He recognizes it as Asgardian pretty quickly. Frowning, he opens the fridge, and sure enough, there is also a lot of stuff in there that wasn’t there when he made lunch. Loki must have sneaked it in somehow at some point in the afternoon. 

It’s easy enough to go from there. 

*

“Ah, I see you did figure it out,” Loki says brightly, closing his book when Tony puts two plates on the dining table. Tony notices the blindfold and the silk ribbons at once; they are impossible to miss, Loki put them right there on the table for Tony to see. 

“I’m not stupid,” Tony drawls, yanking his eyes away from the green silk. He nods at the food. “Where did all of this come from, anyway?”

“I called the store while you were out on your run.” 

“Really?”

Loki nods and puts the book aside to inspect dinner – Tony cut the bread into slices and arranged the weird fruits and cheese and sausages (?) in a way that only vaguely looks like the nucleus he intended it to look like. Maybe he should have gone with his first idea, which was a simple but timeless cock and balls. 

“This is lovely,” Loki says, smiling. “Well done, darling.”

“I just sliced some stuff,” Tony grumbles, getting on his knees next to Loki’s chair. It’s insane how warm he feels in reaction to Loki’s sincere praise. It sounds sincere, anyway. Tony hopes it is. 

“Still.” Loki stands up, reaching for the silk. “Give me a color, then.”

Tony shrugs. “Green.”

“Hands behind your back, please.”

Having expected that, Tony complies easily. Loki crouches behind him and ties his wrists together. The silk feels a lot softer, but Tony thinks he prefers the rope. The softness feels out of place somehow. 

He turns his head to the side. “You keep your promises, don’t you?”

“I deliver on threats.”

Tony smiles. Yeah, okay. Loki stands up again, running a hand through Tony’s hair before he sits back down. Loki picks up the blindfold and looks at Tony, raising a brow. Tony nods. He closes his eyes before the blindfold settles over them. He’s not sure what the point of this is, but he’s eager for anything that will shut off his brain for a couple minutes. 

Tony hears Loki’s chair scratch over the wood as he moves it. Something that might be the side of Loki’s foot presses against Tony’s leg; Loki must have turned toward him. Tony is glad for the contact. 

“Alright?”

Tony nods. 

“I’m sorry?”

Tony would roll his eyes if it weren’t for the blindfold. “Yes, Loki.”

“Good. Have you had something like this before?”

“Asgardian fruits? Well, they’re expensive, so.” Tony lifts a shoulder, grinning. “Yeah, obviously. We serve them at parties and stuff.”

“Do you have a favorite?”

“Mh. I like the pink berries.”

There is a brief pause, then Loki says, “open your mouth.”

Tony does, and a second later Loki holds something between his lips. Tony quickly recognizes it as one of those pink berries when the peel pops under his teeth and the slightly sour taste spreads in his mouth. Loki gives him enough time to chew and swallow, then tells him to open his mouth again. It’s a different fruit this time, a lot sweeter. After that, there’s a bit of cheese and bread. Tony finds out that he does not like the sausage and tells Loki so. All of this – everything from Loki choosing what Tony eats to licking a few drops of juice off Loki’s fingers – is familiar by now. But not being able to see what Loki is doing makes it more… quiet. Tony concentrates on what he hears and tastes; he opens his mouth when he’s told and drinks when Loki holds the glass against his lips. Tony is calm for the first time in days. 

When Tony is full, he shakes his head, and Loki stops offering him food. He doesn’t untie Tony, though – Tony thinks Loki is finally eating something himself, but he’s not sure, and honestly he doesn’t care much right now. He leans forward, resting his head against Loki’s leg. Loki doesn’t comment, but he starts stroking Tony’s hair. 

“I’m going to take the blindfold off now,” Loki says finally, voice soft and quiet. 

Tony is almost disappointed, but he nods, and a minute later he’s squinting against the light even though it’s dim. Loki puts the blindfold aside and stands up only to crouch behind Tony and loosen the silk. 

“You look breathtaking in green,” he says, low; it sends a shiver down Tony’s spine. 

He smiles, faint. “Never thought it was my color.”

“No, it’s mine, which is why I like it on you so much.”

“No kidding,” Tony says; playing it down, but he can’t pretend the heat in his belly isn’t there. You have to like something to want to mark it as yours, right? Yeah. 

A hint of shame accompanies that thought, because hell, this is pathetic. He’s like a shy middle school girl fawning over her crush who’s three years older, captain of the football team and gay, read: out of reach. Only he’s even more ridiculous because there is something going on between him and the captain of the football team, but he had to go and make it weird by falling head over heels for the guy even though he swore he wouldn’t, as if there wasn’t a giant use-by date plastered all over it. 

“You’re brooding again,” Loki says, standing up. He puts the silk on the table. 

“I’m not.”

Loki gives him a flat look. Tony can’t hold his gaze. He rubs his wrist and wonders if Loki can tell. Positive emotions, he says. If he can tell that Tony is horny for him, he probably knows about Tony’s little crush, too. Great. 

“I’m not,” Tony says again. “Can I stand up?”

Loki’s eyes soften. He offers Tony a hand and pulls him to his feet. Tony doesn’t want to let go of Loki’s hand but he does, anyway. 

“Are you done?” he says, looking at the table; there is still some food left. 

Loki nods. But when he helps Tony carry everything into the kitchen, he helps himself to a berry or two, and while Tony rinses the dishes and loads the dishwasher Loki eats another slice of bread with cheese. 

“This reminds me of when I was younger,” he says, not looking at Tony. 

“Wait, you used to be younger? And here I thought you came armored and sassy out of your dad’s forehead.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “My brother and I used to go on hunting trips,” he explains. “Sometimes his friends would come along. When they did, we mostly just drank and told stories of the great battles we had fought in. Well, they did, anyway.”

Tony doesn’t tease him any more. He can count the times Loki talked about his life in Asgard on one hand. 

“We usually brought food just like this from the palace and spent a night or two in the mountains. When I got tired of their company, I would go and catch some fish or game.” A pause. “I was always the only one who could eat them raw without any issues. It was the best thing to do right in front of them when they woke up hungover and were already close to vomiting as it was. I –”

Loki cuts himself off. Tony would like to make a comment about being grateful that Loki waited with this story until Tony was done eating, but something in Loki’s voice makes him keep his mouth shut. 

“I preferred it raw, actually,” Loki says finally, too casual. 

Tony slowly closes the dishwasher. “The meat?”

“Yes. At least when I was a child. My – where I was born, there is no fire unless you have access to magic, and not everyone does. The people have evolved accordingly.” Loki smiles, but it’s short-lived. “I didn’t know that as a child, of course. I simply preferred the texture.”

Tony blinks slowly. “The texture of raw meat?”

Loki shrugs and takes the tea kettle to fill it with water. He doesn’t meet Tony’s gaze. “I was a strange child.”

“You’re a strange adult. Good strange, but, you know.”

This time, Loki’s smile looks much more sincere. “Yes, perhaps. Tea?”

“Sure,” Tony says, because usually Loki still makes him handle the tea, so he has the feeling that Loki is just looking for something to do while he talks. 

Loki grabs a second mug. “Odin didn’t hit us, in general. He resorted to other forms of punishments, such as making us compete against someone too strong in the sparring ring.”

Tony is not sure if that’s better or worse. 

“I remember only three instances where he did raise his hand,” Loki continues. “Once against Thor after he had driven our governess to tears. Twice against me.”

It’s weird to imagine them as boys with a governess; the picture in Tony’s head is so human. Suddenly he’s dying to see baby pictures. He would make a joke about it if Loki’s shoulders weren’t so tense. 

“What did you do?”

“Well,” Loki says, gaze fixed on his collection of teas. “There was a delegation of dwarves visiting. I played a prank on them, and they were so offended they left early. The other time I asked the cook not to roast my meat for dinner.”

That’s what Loki has been getting at this whole time, then. Tony frowns, looking at Loki’s profile. “How old were you?”

“Four hundred or so.”

“Right, and what’s that in human years?”

“Seven or eight. Thor had special wishes regarding his food all the time, so I didn’t understand why I couldn’t. It made sense when I found out that I – wasn’t born in Asgard.” Loki shakes his head and tugs at the tea bag he picked, watching it bounce in the water. “My point is that I have never been what my father wanted, either.”

Oh. Oh, thank god. Loki thinks Tony is upset because of Howard, not because he’s lovesick or whatever. And he’s not even wrong, Tony is usually upset because of Howard, and since he’d rather give himself the bullet than have a heart-to-heart about feelings and whether or not they are reciprocated, Howard is the best possible excuse. 

“Are you suggesting we open up a bad dad club?” Tony says. “Or is it more like a competition? Because Howard sucks, but I’m not sure if I can take it up with a thousand years worth of dad-related bullshit.”

“Yes, I would most certainly win.”

Loki’s tone is teasing, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Tony comes to stand next to him and bumps Loki’s shoulder with his own. “I’m fine. He just sent an annoying text. I guess I’m not looking forward to, you know. Going back.”

Loki looks at him. Tony wishes he would say something – stay a bit longer, then, maybe, or a simple fucking me neither. Loki stays quiet, though, and turns back to his tea. 

Right.

Chapter Text

42

Tony settles back into his own skin, somehow. He’s never been prone to freaking out, so this is out of character, and he manages to make it stop after a while. When there is a problem he either fixes or ignores it. This can’t be fixed, so denial it is.

It is what it is, or whatever. And what it is is good, at least for now. If Tony aches a little every time he looks at Loki, well, nobody has to know. If he wants these slow, quiet days to drag on and on until the entire damn planet explodes, that’s his own business; nothing to see here, move along.

“Do you like sushi?” he asks, drowsy, eyes still closed. He’s not sure how long it’s been since he woke up with Loki’s hand already under his shirt, petting him gently. When Loki noticed that Tony was awake, it didn’t take long until that hand moved further down to cup his cock.

“I do.”

“I bet I could make sushi.”

“Of course you could.” Loki nips at Tony’s ear. “However, I’m not sure why you are thinking about that now.”

Yeah, Tony isn’t sure, either. It just crossed his mind. He grins. “S’because you’re not hurrying the fuck up. I’m bored.”

“Always so impatient,” Loki murmurs. His hand doesn’t speed up; he continues the soft, slow strokes he’s been teasing Tony with for ages now. “If I want to take my time with you, I will. Take it or ask me to stop.”

“Don’t stop.”

Loki chuckles and brushes his lips against the skin behind Tony’s ear. Tony shivers and presses back against Loki’s chest, wishing both of their clothes were just gone. He‘s too lazy to move, though, and he figures if Loki was bothered by the clothes he would have gotten rid of them by now. This is simple, slow, the pleasure simmering in a way Tony isn’t used to. He can’t remember ever being this relaxed while someone was actively jerking him off, but he’s not complaining. It feels nice. Loki pushed Tony’s shorts over the curve of his ass, and now and then he lets go of Tony’s cock to give said ass a squeeze or stroke his thigh. Every touch is golden. Tony works his hips lazily, moving in time with Loki’s teasing strokes, and lifts his chin to give him better access when Loki kisses the side of his neck from behind. 

“You’re so perfect like this,” Loki says softly, fingers curling around Tony’s cock. “I love how you feel in my hand, I can feel you throbbing. And how wet you get – so charming. Does it feel nice?”

Tony breathes out and nods, squirming, unsure whether he wants to thrust into Loki’s fist or just let Loki do what he wants. He blindly reaches for Loki’s arm and holds onto it; Loki’s skin is cool, soothing. He has to laugh, breathless. “Yeah. Really nice.”

“Good boy,” Loki says, grinning as well; Tony can hear it. “Oh, I could do this for hours.”

“Mh. I think it’s been an hour.”

“Probably,” Loki agrees, kissing Tony’s jaw. “Time for breakfast, isn’t it?”

He stops stroking and pulls Tony’s shorts back up over his ass – and rock hard cock, by the way, which Tony finds rather rude. . He whines in protest right away. 

“Hey –”

“Yes, darling?”

Oh, Tony knows that tone. He huffs. “I’ll make breakfast, but at least get me off first.”

“Of course you’ll make breakfast,” Loki says, sitting up. “And of course you know that that is not how you beg for an orgasm.”

The tips of Tony’s ears are burning. “Loki, come on.”

“I’m afraid that’s a also not –”

Tony grabs the pillow under his head and hurls it straight at Loki’s face. Loki doesn’t even try to dodge, so it makes a very satisfying noise. Before Tony can grin and enjoy the stunned look on Loki’s face, Loki pulls at Tony’s ankles and makes him land flat on his back. Tony yelps because fuck, why is Loki so strong, but he’s already laughing when Loki crawls over him, pinning him to the bed. 

“Am I in trouble now?” he asks, running his hands up Loki’s arms. 

“I have the feeling you want to be,” Loki says, smirking, “because you think it will make me finish what I started.”

“Won’t it?”

“Oh, of course.” Loki kisses him and then kneels back between Tony’s legs, grin sharp. “Because I started wanting to make you wait until tonight at least.” 

“You’re kidding.”

Loki gives Tony’s thigh a squeeze and moves to get out of bed. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“You look like an ass,” Tony says and grabs another pillow. 

Unfortunately, when he throws it at Loki, there is a bright flash of green, and then the bed and the floor in front of Loki are covered with feathers. 

They both stare at the mess for a few seconds. 

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Loki says then. He sounds tired. 

“What did you mean to do?”

“Throw it back at you, of course. I’m out of practice.” 

Tony sits on the edge of the bed amidst all the feathers. The pillow case is nowhere to be seen. He’s kind of terrified that Loki will pass out again, but. “Want to try again? I don’t mind throwing things at you until you figure it out.”

Loki snorts and waves his hand – all the feathers disappear in a green shimmer. Loki watches, satisfied, and then suddenly, he grins from ear to ear. 

Tony raises a brow. “Yeah, uh. Well done?”

“No, I –“ Loki puts one knee back on the bed and leans forward to kiss Tony again, making Tony feel fucking butterflies because yes, he is a lost cause, thanks for asking. Loki is still grinning when he pulls back. “I think I can start practicing more difficult spells.”

“That’s – great?” Tony says, mind reeling; he wants another kiss but Loki’s giddiness is contagious. “Can I watch?”

Loki falters just briefly, but long enough that Tony notices. Loki catches himself quickly, though; the surprise on his face is gone again in an instant. His hand is still on the side of Tony’s face, he strokes Tony’s cheek. “If you want to, yes.”

Tony can’t hold his gaze. It’s too soft, too – well, just too much. Loki is excited about his magic getting better, that’s fine, that’s great, but Tony knows it’s because of his… prayers, if that’s actually the word they’re using. He doesn’t want to know how much this stupid crush of his plays into that. 

“Are you alright, darling?” Loki’s thumb brushes over Tony’s cheek again. “Do you want to come?”

Tony looks up at Loki again, surprised. “Is that an offer?”

“No. Merely a question.”

Tony shrugs. He’s still horny, so, yes, sure. But something about Loki just stopping when he seemed to have fun teasing Tony for an hour rubs him the wrong way. “Did I fuck up?”

Loki tilts his head to the side. “No. Why do you ask?”

“Uh. You said you wanted to make me wait, anyway, so.”

“Not as a punishment,” Loki says. He takes Tony’s hand and pulls him up onto his feet. “Just for fun.”

Tony lets Loki pull him into the dressing room. “Your fun or my fun?”

“They shouldn’t be mutually exclusive, pet.” Loki lets go of Tony’s hand, but only to put his hands on Tony’s hips and pull him close. “I have been told it feels nice. The anticipation, the constant background buzz. We will stop if you don’t enjoy it, of course.”

“But you want me to give it a try.”

“Being open to new things is an excellent mindset.”

Loki’s voice is so serene and so full of bullshit that Tony has to laugh. 

Loki immediately drops the act and grins back. His hands slip under Tony’s shirt and wander up his sides. “I mean it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“It’s your decision. You know what to say if you wish to stop.”

Tony nods and fiddles with the hem of Loki’s shirt – it’s all wrinkly since he slept in it, his hair is a mess, he looks tired. It helps a little to know that he’s a god and can be fucking terrifying; that way Tony doesn’t have to feel quite so pathetic for wanting to do whatever Loki wants. He’s not sure if Loki being a god makes wanting him to control when and how and if Tony gets off any more reasonable, but who cares, he will blame it on the godhood. So much for being an atheist. 

He clears his throat. “So, can I have some clothes, or…?“

Loki grins. He undresses Tony himself, cool hands making Tony shiver every time they brush against his skin. His cock is hardening again, and he expects Loki to just ignore it, but he doesn’t. When he sees it, his smile widens even more. He picks one of his own pants and helps Tony into them; Tony is about to protest that he’s not a kid and can dress himself, thank you, but he likes the attention too much. He likes how Loki looks at him when he pulls the pants over his cock, smug and fond at the same time. 

“I’m not letting you out of my sight today,” Loki murmurs when Tony is fully dressed. He’s still touching him, hands on Tony’s waist like he can’t keep them away. “And if you hold out until tonight, I’ll make it worth your while, yes?”

Well, that’s an idea Tony can get behind. 

*

“Are you telling me I have been killing sick people this whole time?”

“I don’t think they’re alive in the strict sense of the word, so it’s not killing them, really, just putting them out of their misery.”

“They look fairly alive to me,” Loki complains as the husk throws a spear at him (again) and hits him (again). 

“They’re zombies or something,” Tony says. “Bug zombies. Zombie bugs.”

Loki makes a face and kills said zombie bug with a slash of the ghost’s nail. “This game is quite depressing, isn‘t it?“

“Yeah, well.” Tony rests his head on Loki’s shoulder. “It’s a dying world.”

Loki hums. Tony watches him play, teases and gives tips now and then, and the afternoon flies away somehow. They took a walk after lunch and it was freezing cold, so it’s nice to laze around in the library all day, close to the fire, basking in the warmth of Loki’s body. Tony has never been much of a cuddler, but he’s starting to see why people love it. Maybe it’s just because he likes Loki so much, but if he could get away with draping himself over Loki’s lap and demanding pets like a spoiled cat, he would. He sees his chance coming when Loki closes the laptop and puts it on the table, but unfortunately, Loki stands up right after, stretching. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says, which probably means he has to use the bathroom.

Tony nods and tries to be subtle about watching Loki leave the room. He does have a very nice ass. And waist. And legs. And everything, really. Tony still wants to get him naked, but he still feels like Loki prefers to stay dressed. He probably doesn’t trust Tony to keep his hands to himself. Maybe he could ask for a shared bath again, but he can’t really do that just to get a chance to ogle Loki. The last time he wasn’t brave enough to do that, anyway. And isn’t that ridiculous? Tony Stark, not brave enough to ogle someone. 

Tony huffs and yanks his eyes away from the doorway – Loki is long gone, anyway. It’s gray outside. The snow settled. It’s not that bad, but the road to Loki’s house isn’t cleared, so pretending that they are snowed in isn’t as hard as Tony expected. November is more than half through; it’ll be Thanksgiving in a couple days. The first time he won’t sneak away from a stuffy party to attend a less stuffy party. He doubts anyone will miss him. He can practically see Howard’s brave smile and hear the firm assurance in his voice, as far as I know, he’s fine, thank you. We spoke on the phone just last week. Of course we can’t wait to welcome him back home, but he’s doing a good thing. Yes, of course I’m very proud. He doesn’t even need to practice that shit in the mirror; he’s a good actor. Tony learned it from him. 

“Is something wrong?”

Tony looks up. The sofa dips slightly next to him as Loki sits down, holding a book. Tony shakes his head. “No, all good. Hey, do you do Thanksgiving?”

Loki raises a brow as he makes himself comfortable in the corner of the sofa, pulling up his legs. His feet are bare; Tony’s would probably freeze off despite the fire, but Loki never seems to be bothered by the cold. “I do not. But if you want to do something special, we can.”

“I could make sushi. Or try to.”

“You’re very obsessed with sushi today. Wouldn’t a turkey be more appropriate?”

“I thought sushi because, you know, raw fish.”

Loki stops bullying the cushion behind his back into a comfortable position and stares at him. Slowly, the tips of his ears turn pink. “Oh.”

“You said you liked sushi. But I guess I can also just do a bunch of sashimi for you and sushi for me. I can call the store, right? They don’t really send us anything I’d need for that.”

“Of course you can,” Loki says. “Order anything you like. Come here.”

Grinning, Tony scoots over to sit between Loki’s invitingly spread legs, leaning against his chest. Loki wraps an arm around him and pulls him closer. He keeps that arm where it is and opens his book with his free hand. Tony sighs, disappointed because he thought Loki might want to do something other than read, but at least they’re keeping up the cuddling. Loki’s fingers draw absentminded circles on Tony’s stomach, he can feel Loki’s breath brushing against his ear. Tony can see Loki’s book, too; it’s in French, fiction. He tries to read along, but he’s too distracted by Loki’s touches, however innocent they might be, and also by the fact that the pages are turning by themselves, because it’s so frustrating that magic can just make the basic laws of the universe go poof. The Force being real is all fun and games until it messes with physics. 

Loki’s hand slips under Tony’s shirt. The skin to skin contact makes Tony sigh. His body reacts embarrassingly quickly, the frustration of being left hanging this morning rearing back to life. He bites his lip to stifle a gasp when Loki’s hand wanders further up to tease Tony’s nipple. Loki just keeps on reading like nothing else is going on. Tony doesn’t know what to do with his hands anymore; one of them ends up on Loki’s thigh almost by accident, probably gripping a little too tightly. Loki ignores that, too. Teasing bastard. Tony doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t want to give Loki the satisfaction because he’s quite sure his voice would be shaky. He can’t keep from getting hard, though, a pleasant ache between his legs that only gets worse with every light touch. Somehow, Loki being so blasé about it only turns him on more. Loki is still focused on his book, he’s only using Tony to give his hand something to do. Tony thinks he shouldn’t like that feeling as much as he does. 

He can‘t stop himself from making a noise when Loki finally palms his cock. Loki shushes him. He rubs Tony‘s cock through his pants, and even though Tony wishes the fabric wasn’t in the way it feels good. He squirms, hips trying to push up against Loki‘s hand to get more friction. 

“You’re being distracting, pet,” Loki says, a hard edge to his voice. “I’m trying to read.”

“As if it’s my fault,” Tony grumbles, and at once Loki squeezes his cock a little too hard to be comfortable. 

“Of course it’s your fault if you can’t keep quiet. But if you can’t manage, I can help you with a gag.” Loki lets go of Tony’s cock to  stroke up Tony’s stomach and chest to his throat. “Or just push my fingers into your pretty mouth. You like that, don’t you?”

Tony automatically opens his mouth when Loki’s fingers brush against his lips, but Loki just chuckles and lets his hand come to rest on Tony’s chest. After a moment, he rucks up Tony’s shirt and strokes his bare skin underneath, then plays with his nipple. Tony’s cock jumps. He turns his head to hide his face against Loki’s neck and breathe him in. He feels flushed, hot, a part of him just wants Loki to keep talking. And touching, however long he likes, even if the slow tease of it is torture. 

“There’s no need to get so excited,” Loki says softly. “We agreed you wouldn’t get any relief until tonight, didn’t we? You should be grateful I’m playing with you at all.” 

“Yeah, thanks a lot.”

“Good idea, darling.” Loki’s hand slides down again, gripping the tent in Tony’s pants. “Try that again. If I think you don’t mean it, I’ll stop.”

Tony wants to roll his eyes and complain, but instead he presses his lips together to keep from moaning. He is grateful for Loki’s touches, is the thing. He likes being played with, feeling like putty in Loki’s hands. He felt so good this morning, having to do nothing but let Loki do what he wanted. He’s having fun. Pride is a tough pill to swallow, but he thinks he’ll manage. 

“Thank you, Loki,” he says, short of breath, and is immediately rewarded by a pleased noise low in Loki’s throat. 

“Good boy.” Loki kisses Tony’s temple. “You pray so sweetly. Strip.”

Tony needs a moment to register the order. His stomach flips because he knows this won’t end with him getting off. When Loki says tonight, he probably means right before sleep, or at least after dinner. Tony jumps at the chance to get out of his clothes, anyway, because he’s desperate for more. So he gets up and takes off his — well, Loki’s – shirt and pants and socks. 

When he is naked, he immediately jumps back on the couch to sit between Loki’s legs again. Loki laughs and wraps his arms around Tony, kissing the side of his neck. 

“Yes, that’s better, isn’t it? Are you cold?”

“I’ll live,” Tony says, wriggling to turn Loki’s attention back to the matter at hand. “Can you –”

“Yes?”

“Touch me? Please?”

Loki runs his hands over Tony’s chest. “No.”

“Oh, come on, I even said please.”

“I know, I heard,” Loki says, amused. “Very pretty. Still, no. You may ask for permission to touch yourself, of course.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “And you’ll say yes?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Tony sighs. He puts his hands on Loki’s thighs again; Loki’s pants are thin, Tony can feel the warmth and strength of Loki’s legs well enough. Loki doesn’t protest. He just waits and keeps petting Tony, stroking his chest and stomach, his inner thighs. Tony is melting against Loki’s chest, and it doesn’t take long until he loses his patience. 

“Can I touch?” he asks, unable to keep his breath from stuttering. “Please.”

“Spread your legs.”

Tony does, throwing his right leg over the backrest of the sofa. Loki shifts a little, pulling Tony along, so that he can comfortably put his chin on Tony’s shoulder. 

“You may,” he says. 

Letting out a sigh, Tony reaches for his cock. The relief is imminent and still it only spurs him on; it feels perfect. Maybe it feels even better because it’s on Loki’s command. 

Loki watches for a while, alternating between teasing Tony’s nipples and feeling his tense stomach muscles. Tony presses back against Loki’s chest and up into his hands, trying to get more of his touch. 

“I think I’ll keep you like this,” Loki murmurs, close to Tony’s ear. “Naked for easy access, and denied so you are eager to please. What do you think, hm?”

Tony thinks yes, please but he can’t just say that, can he, so what comes out instead is, “yeah, okay,” which really isn’t much better. 

Loki laughs again and kisses Tony’s flushed cheek. His hand wanders over Tony’s body, across Tony’s inner thigh to between his legs, cupping his balls. Tony’s hand stop moving, he thinks maybe Loki wants to take over, but Loki only reaches lower to rub Tony’s perineum, fingers brushing against the rim of his hole now and then. Tony whines. 

“Did I say you could stop?” Loki asks, curious. 

Tony starts stroking again, a little rougher than before. 

“Not so fast, darling,” Loki says. “You’ll come if you keep that up.”

“That’s the goal,” Tony mutters, trying to roll his hips into Loki’s touch. 

“Oh, is it now. Remind me, are you allowed?”

The frustrated noise Tony makes sounds more like a moan. “No?”

“Good boy. No, you’re not.”

Tony curses under his breath. Loki kisses his neck, sucks at the sensitive skin, maybe – hopefully – leaving a mark. Tony tries to get his tongue to work. “Do you – if I do, will you – punish me?”

“Of course.”

“How?”

“Is that what you want to hear about while you touch yourself, pet? How I would punish you for misbehaving?”

Tony nods quickly, cock throbbing in his hand. He’s close. 

“So many options,” Loki murmurs, rubbing a fingertip over Tony’s hole. “I would pour out some rice on the veranda and make you kneel on it. With your hands tied, naturally, since they can’t be trusted.”

“It’s freezing cold outside,” Tony says, gasping. 

“Is it? How unfortunate.” Loki presses his grin against Tony’s neck. “After, I’d get you a collar and leash, to keep you from straying. I couldn’t let you out of my sight anymore, could I? My sweet pet, so eager, but such terrible self control.”

Oh, god, Tony’s there, he’s almost there, just a little –

Loki laughs. “Stop, love, before you get yourself into trouble. I said stop.”

More. Tony whines in protest, but stops touching, hand twitching by his thigh. Loki catches it in his own and entwines their fingers, pinning Tony’s hand to his stomach. He makes a soothing noise, lips brushing against Tony’s temple again, and just holds him for a while, until Tony calms down. 

He listens to Loki’s even breaths. Desperation is simmering in his stomach, he’s still hard, but he doesn’t attempt to escape Loki’s hold. It’s comfortable, for one thing, and it feels – safe. Tony sighs and closes his eyes, melting into Loki a little more. It’s ridiculous, seriously. He’s been cockblocked before, but never like this, and he certainly never enjoyed it. 

“What do you like about this?” he asks finally, voice soft. 

“Telling you no?”

Tony hums and turns his head, looking up at Loki. “I’ve always liked getting people off.”

“I do, too,” Loki says. He smirks. “I suppose I like it even more when it’s on my terms.”

Tony snorts. “No shit.”

“I like having that control over you,” Loki adds. “And I like watching you suffer.”

Turning that on its head, it means that Tony likes letting Loki control him like that. And that he likes suffering. Recent evidence suggests that both things are true, but that doesn’t really explain why, does it? It’s a kink, okay. Tony probably shouldn’t psychoanalyze himself about it, that’d just be depressing. 

Loki moves, pulling Tony out of his thoughts. He frowns, but sits up so that Loki can stand up. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” Loki goes over to the armchair to grab a blanket, then comes back to Tony. “You’re shivering.”

“Oh.”

“Would you like anything else?”

Tony pauses at the polite inquiry, wondering if it’s really just that, a polite inquiry to which his answer should be no, or a honest offer. Judging by the way Loki raises a brow after moment, Tony thinks it might be the latter. He takes the risk. 

“I want a hot chocolate.”

Loki blinks slowly. “Alright.”

“Wait, really?”

Loki just rolls his eyes and heads out of the room. Woah.

“There’s a bag of those tiny marshmallows in the pantry,” Tony calls after him. “I want them on top.”

As it turns out, Loki makes a mean hot chocolate.

*

After dinner, they play Backgammon. Tony loses because he can’t concentrate, so he tries to convince Loki it’s not a real win, but Loki just starts teasing him about being so needy he can’t focus on a simple game, so that’s bullshit. Tony pouts until Loki laughs and finally, finally, drags him upstairs.

“Can I get off now?” Tony asks on the stairs.

“I hoped we could manage a little more than two minutes.”

“I wouldn’t come in two minutes. I’m not that pathetic.”

“No?”

“Five, minimum.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Tony sighs. Loki probably will hold him to it. Thankfully, five minutes are absolutely doable. 

In the bedroom, Loki lets go of Tony’s hand to close the door. “Kneel before the bed.”

Having expected something like that, Tony goes and kneels on the floor. Loki had him undress again when they went back to the library after dinner, so he’s still naked, and it’s colder up here than downstairs, but he barely notices, he’s so excited. 

“You have been very good,” Loki says, crossing the room. “You may ask for something, if you like.”

Tony stares up at him. He doesn’t want to go all deer in the headlights, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t know if he feels up for the whole teasing you until you finally ask for what you want thing right now. “Uhm.”

“Imagine it’s not me, that might help.”

Tony frowns. “You want me to think about someone else?”

“Well, no. But if you were here with one of your usual conquests, what would you ask them to do? What would you want?”

Tony flushes right on cue, because he knows what type of hook-up he’d be looking for. “Oh.”

“Good. Now say whatever you just thought of out loud, would you?”

Tony shifts around on his knees, restless. “Uh. I’d probably want them to – fuck me. But I know that’s not – listen, I don’t want you to feel like –”

“Hush. Fuck you how?”

“Er.” Tony looks at Loki blankly for a moment. “Hard?”

Loki’s mouth twitches. “Charming. Are you experienced in that, then?”

“Huh?”

“Anal sex, Anthony. You’ve done it before?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

“And you like it.”

Tony swallows again, or tries to; his mouth is dry. “Yeah.”

“That’s settled, then. Are you alright with me choosing a dildo or would you prefer to do it yourself?”

“I –” Dildo? Dildo. Oh. “No, you can. Yeah. Go ahead.”

Loki beams and vanishes into his dressing room. Tony hears him open a drawer. His heart beats so loudly he’s sure Loki can hear it even from the distance. Shit, maybe that’s not even hyperbole, who knows with Loki and his fucking alien ears – oh, wait. 

“But not one of those big ones!” Tony yells, the images of what he saw in that drawer flashing through his mind. One or two of them really were scarily big. 

There is a brief pause. 

“What do you consider big?” Loki asks then. 

“Everything that’s as long as my fucking forearm.”

“Ah,” Loki says, and after a few more seconds he appears in the doorway, holding up a dildo. “This?”

It’s big, but not scarily so. Apart from the dark color, it looks like some dicks Tony has had up his ass, so he thinks it’ll work just fine. He doesn’t trust his voice, so he nods. He looks at the other toy Loki is holding. “And that?”

It’s also a dildo, but shorter and thinner and, making Tony laugh, poison green. Because of course Loki even owns green dildos. 

“We will work our way up,” Loki says. “I also have some with bumps or perhaps beads if that –”

“No, no, that’s, these are okay.”

Loki smirks and lays the toys out on the bed. He also brought a bottle of lube. Tony looks at them for a moment, determined to not seem like a blushing virgin about this; he didn’t lie, he’s done anal. Lots of it. This is Loki, though. That makes it important. Tony’s stomach sinks a bit. He doesn’t like what that thought says about all the other times he slept with people. That’s probably not how it should be. Should have been. Whatever. 

“Get on the bed.”

Tony shakes his head – he’s not thinking about shitty things right now, he’s not – and stands up to obey.

“Elbows and knees.”

Tony assumes the position in the middle of the bed. He arches his back; this is familiar, he’s good at this. The mattress sags slightly as Loki gets on the bed as well, coming to kneel next to Tony. A hand strokes down the bumps of Tony’s spine and squeezes his ass. It disappears again for a second, and the smack comes out of nowhere – it’s the shock more than the pain that makes Tony gasp and look over his shoulder at Loki, who is stroking the cheek he just hit. 

“From now on, you will give me a proper answer when I give you an order,” he says, way too calm. “To show that you heard and understand. Is that clear?”

Tony’s breaths are already ragged. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Loki.”

“Good. Eyes on the bed.”

Tony looks back at the mattress under him. Loki spanks him again, Tony grits his teeth. “Yes, Loki.”

“Good boy. Spread your legs.”

Tony does so without saying anything, which, sure enough, earns him another smack. He groans. “Do I – really, for everything?”

“I’m starting to think you do not want to come that badly, after all. Maybe we should wait until tomorrow?”

Ugh. “No, thanks.”

“Yes, so I thought,” Loki drawls. “Stay in this position until I say you can move.”

“Yes, Loki.”

“Ah, so you are teachable.” Loki cups Tony’s ass cheeks with both hands, then runs them over his back. “Good boy. Look at you, you’re lovely. And hard already, too. Perfect.”

The praise, the warm tone, makes Tony want to melt into a fucking puddle. He sways his hips a little, mostly because he’s bad at holding still, partly because he wants Loki to get on with it. Loki chuckles and, apparently willing to show mercy, reaches between Tony’s legs to stroke his cock. Tony moans quietly. All of a sudden, he’s not so sure if five minutes are doable. Fuck. 

“You may beg for permission to come when you get close,” Loki says, his voice dropping lower. “And do not come before I grant it.”

“Yes, Loki.”

“Such a good pet.” Loki’s other hand pets Tony’s inner thigh for a while, but finally returns to his ass, thumb rubbing over his entrance. “Do you know that you have an unfairly nice backside?”

Tony laughs, breathless. “I’ve been told.”

“I’m sure of that. Very inviting.” Loki pushes the tip of his thumb in dry. “And so tight.”

Tony shivers, his head starting to feel clouded with need. It’s been ages since somebody fucked him, and Loki makes it feel brand new. He misses the slight, promising stretch of Loki’s thumb immediately when Loki withdraws his hand. But soon enough, Tony hears a just as promising sound; the bottle of lube. 

When Loki’s fingers return to his hole, they are slick. He pushes one of them in slowly, but without hesitation, pulling it out again before every digit is even in – teasing Tony with it. Tony sighs and tries to relax like he knows he has to. He’s panting by now, and whines when Loki stops playing with Tony’s cock. 

“No, don’t –”

Loki interrupts him with another slap. “You asked me to fuck you, pet, so stop complaining and let me do it.”

Tony wants to point out that technically, he didn’t ask Loki to fuck him in those exact words, but the thought sizzles out when Loki starts fucking him with his finger in earnest. It’s not exactly bringing Tony close to the orgasm he really, really wants, but it feels good nonetheless. It feels even better when Loki adds more lube and then a second finger, pushing them in deep, scissoring them slightly inside. When he brushes against his prostate, Tony lets out a choked groan.

Loki chuckles. “Is that it?”

“Uh huh.”

“Proper answer, please.”

“Yes –” Tony loses track of the sentence for a moment when Loki unerringly rubs against his prostate, making that fucking good feeling Tony loves so much build and build. “Yes, Loki.”

“Good boy,” Loki says, voice dripping warmth. “There you are. That feels good, doesn’t it?”

Tony laughs again. “Yes, yes.”

“I know.” Loki pulls his fingers out, and laughs when Tony whimpers. “Patience, pet. I know you’re not good at that, but you’ll have no choice but to learn.”

Tony huffs. The frustration doesn’t last long, thankfully, because after a few seconds he feels something else press against an entrance. The smaller dildo, probably. Poison green. Tony grins, crooked. 

“Y’know, I’ve never really thought of green as a sexy color.”

“It’s mine,” Loki says simply. 

“Yeah,” Tony breathes out, enjoying the feeling as the toy, wider than two of Loki’s fingers although not by much, stretches him. “Yeah.”

Loki pushes the toy in the rest of the way, until it bottoms out. Tony can feel Loki run a finger over the base, pressing against it. He leaves it there and squeezes Tony’s ass, spreading the cheeks apart. Tony lets his head hang low, wanting to hide his face. Loki hums, pleased, a sound that goes straight to Tony’s cock, makes it jump. Loki doesn’t touch it again, instead he pulls the dildo out again only to push it back in. There’s the drizzle of something cool as he adds more lube. Tony starts panting again. He gets adjusted to the girth after a while, and it stops being enough. 

“Loki,” he says, aware that it sounds pleading. He’s done with giving a fuck about that. “Loki –”

“Yes?”

“The other one?”

“Oh?” Loki’s voice is silky sweet, edging into condescending. “Are you sure you’re ready? It’s quite a bit bigger.”

“I’m ready,” Tony says between shaky breaths. He knows Loki is just toying with him; he knows he’s ready. Asshole. 

“Let me be the judge of that.” Loki almost shoves the toy in at the next thrust, making Tony moan. “You may just be saying that because you can’t wait to be filled up.”

Tony digs his fingers into the mattress and pushes back against the dildo; god, he wishes it were bigger. “Loki, please.”

“Oh, alright.” Loki pulls the toy out and tosses it aside, but doesn’t grab the next one right away. Instead, he spreads Tony’s cheeks with both hands again. A fingertip brushes against the edge of Tony’s hole. “You do look like you can’t wait, however. Lovely. Tomorrow, you may pick your favorite plug in my collection and start wearing it around the house.”

Tony pushes back against Loki’s hands. “If you want me to, Loki.”

That makes Loki bark a laugh. “Oh, you’re learning. Excellent.” 

Tony has to grin as well, exhilarated despite his frustration. He likes hearing Loki laugh. His grin fades when the thicker head of the other toy touches his hole. He tenses up slightly, instinctive. Loki makes a soothing noise and adds more lube. Tony feels it dripping down his inner thigh. He breathes out and relaxes, and the dildo slips in smoothly. It’s a lot thicker than the first one. He groans at the feeling, shuffling a little on his knees as Loki starts fucking him, slow and steady, until the toy is buried as deep as it can go. 

“You’re dripping on the bed, sweetheart,” Loki says, flicking a finger over the head of Tony’s cock. “You barely even got soft, did you? Put your hands on your back.”

Tony does so without thinking, pressing his shoulders and the side of his face against the bed. Loki sighs and grabs his wrists, adjusting their position on his back – and then a hand is in Tony’s hair, its grip hard and unforgiving. Loki pulls Tony’s head up with a painful tug. Tony automatically lifts his upper body, too.

“What do you say?” Loki says calmly.

“Yes,” Tony gasps out. “Yes, Loki.”

“Indeed,” Loki says and lets go of Tony’s hair, letting him drop back down. “Stay like this.”

“Yes, Loki.”

Loki keeps his hold on Tony’s wrists, rendering him unable to move them even if he wanted to. The dildo in Tony’s ass starts moving again, fucking him, a little faster than before. He squirms and groans, wishing he could touch his cock. Loki is pinning Tony’s upper body to the bed, he can’t even try to fuck himself on the dildo properly. Loki’s other hand strokes through his hair, then down his shoulder and arm, touching whatever he can reach. Tony squeezes his eyes shut and breathes through his mouth, not really caring if he ends up drooling on the bed. He’s too –

Wait.