Story: A Lust for Being Bad
Chapter 1: Sentimental God
Word-count: 2,789
Characters: Tony Stark, Thor & Loki
Summary: Tony's questionable behavior has a conflicting effect on Thor. Thor finds small comfort in his brother, who finds the situation most amusing.
Warnings: Strong sexual themes, alcohol consumption
A/N: So I've just seen the Avengers movie, and since then I've been toying around with a few ideas in my head, I figured there'd be no harm in giving this a shot, so here's my first slash fic done outside of anime and collab work with a fellow writer. Again, this isn't really meant to take *seriously*, it's more of a crack-drama. Hope you all enjoy.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything.
"Weren't you ever taught to put your toys away when you're done playing with them? Or in this case, it?"
Thor Odinson was kneeling at Tony Stark's feet. Fingers were still tangled in his golden tresses, holding him before the now-flaccid member that he had just been pleasuring. His eyes, blue and bright, inquisitively darted upward to meet warm brown ones, glossed over from alcohol consumption. The realization that he had clearly been used struck him, and yet he found himself obeying, but not before snapping the waist-band of the over-priced boxer-shorts against bronzed flesh, stinging the skin.
The dark-haired man arched an eyebrow at the irritable gesture and then smiled; obviously the prideful god of thunder expected more, but was sadly made disappointed. "Wanna pick up my pants while you're at it, your godliness?" He asked, smiling superiorly.
Thor's eyes flashed dangerously at the comment, his face flushing quickly with anger and humiliation. "You…"
"Hold your praises," Tony interrupted, knowing well enough that Thor was nowhere close to complementing him, "I think your mouth's done enough good for the time being." He grinned once more, stroking the thick tresses his hand rested upon, as if the god at his feet were a mere house-pet.
Anger radiated through him once more, and for once Thor had no eloquently-spoken words of retaliation. How he could he become so easily manipulated as if he were another one of Tony's dates he brings home after a night of drinking. At this thought, he shot up, face-to-face with the source of his sudden wrath.
"By the gods I am an Asgardian, not a common tramp!" He spat, glaring furiously into Tony's mocking, unaffected gaze.
"I'm so happy that you've come to this sudden revelation, but it doesn't solve the problem of my pants around my ankles, when they should be at my waist, or the fact that my back is now digging uncomfortably against the side of this kitchen island."
Before he could act upon the impulse to turn the man known as Iron Man's head into his hammer's next victim, he tore himself away. He heard Tony start to chuckle. Without looking back, he stormed out of the dimly-lit kitchen, his long red cape barely catching in the door as it shut behind him.
He couldn't believe the sheer nerve of that self-absorbed mortal making a joke out of him. Everything had to be a joke when it came to Tony Stark, and it pissed him off. What made it worse was that he fell for it! What a fool he was!
His forward path through the lofty corridors led him to the enormous, futuristic helicopter landing that jutted from the side of Stark Tower. He inhaled the warm, thick night-time summer air; his ears were filled with the noises of the brightly-lit city far below him.
Gripping the banister, he wondered why he felt so compelled to wander through the building's living quarters. If he had just stayed in the room assigned to him, he wouldn't have gotten himself into such a mess. Unfortunately, thinking of the if's and could-have-been's didn't change the fact that the two of them had a moment, however one-sided it was.
The question of why still plagued him. He did not remember starting; only finishing. However, it was very clear that something was off about Tony. As he wracked his brain for some sort of an answer, he allowed his mind to go back. As if an outsider, he pictured himself quietly stepping into the kitchen, walking in on the half-hidden bent figure that was Tony, who happened to be rummaging around in the open refrigerator. His presence didn't go unnoticed.
"Don't you gods have a bedtime?" Was the greeting Thor received.
"I could ask you the same." He replied coolly, folding his arms over his armored chest, "But I wouldn't want to give you the ego-boost of calling you a god."
Tony laughed and finally shut the refrigerator; in his hands he held a plate with what seemed to be more or less of a quarter of cake with white icing and what looked like caramel running down the sides. "I think you've all made it quite clear that I don't need one of those." He let out another laugh and set the plate on the kitchen island. As per usual, a decanter and tumbler were within arms-reach, and Tony helped himself to a drink.
"You want?" He offered, indicating the brown liquid in the intricate glass container; Thor shook his head, declining the offer. The dark-haired man merely shrugged and took a long draw from his own glass.
"So what are you doing up this late, welcoming yourself to a private tour of my living quarters?" He asked, his eyes now back on the cake. He swiped a finger through the buttery icing.
"I am not quite as dependent on sleep as you mortal humans are," Thor said haughtily, watching as Tony tasted the icing. The younger man showed no inclination of paying a bit of attention, though he was the one who asked.
Tony gave a low hum, "This is so good," He said, running his finger through the icing again, this time getting a fair amount of caramel.
The god's eyes rolled to the ceiling; of course it's got to be all about him. Ready to make his exit, he switched his gaze back to the room's original occupant, only to find that he had moved far closer. They were at arm's length of each other now.
"Why don't you try some?"
"Try-?" But before Thor could question the motive behind the suggestion, a taste so sweet filled his mouth, it made his jaws ache. Tony had shoved his icing-coated finger in his mouth!
"What do you think you are you doing?" He demanded, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
"Letting you try dulce de leche," Tony replied simply, "It's great, don't you agree?" When he didn't receive an answer immediately, his head cocked slightly, observing the outlandishly dressed man before him as if he were a mere curiosity. "What happened to all those pretty words you like to string together so eloquently? Have my charms left you speechless?" He leaned back enough to grab his drink up and down the rest at once.
So many questions from a man who claims to know so much. Thor thought as Tony took a step toward him, smiling dashingly. He stood frozen on the spot, unable to reason why he was allowing this inappropriate and intrusive closeness between the two of them; why he dealt with the heavy scent of alcohol to take over his sense of smell; why Tony brushed against his lips and got away with it; or why a tongue had pushed into his mouth without so much as a bite in retaliation.
Thor felt the faint, vibration from Tony humming lowly against his mouth; it was a very curious sensation. His muscles relaxed and he gingerly placed his hands against the other man's tightly-shirted lower back. His own tongue now pushed back on the other, intensifying the kiss. The deity inhaled sharply at the place his hand was moved to and pressed firmly against.
"I know," Tony muttered, flexing himself, "It's quite impressive."
Thor began to roll his eyes when pliant lips were pressed urgently against his once more. The enthusiastic gesture didn't last long; Thor parted his mouth, letting his tongue dart out expectedly, only to find air. He looked quizzically in roguish dark eyes.
"Have I mentioned you taste incredible?" The billionaire practically purred. "How about you get on your knees and find out how incredible I taste?" He glanced downward where the hand was pinned, then back into Thor's stunned expression.
The god didn't give himself time to think; his eyes darted around before he sank to his knees…
"Gods be damned," Thor snarled toward the breathtaking, multicolored view below him, shaking himself from the covetous thoughts of Tony's shallow breaths and occasional pleasured moans; the hand clenching his hair coaxing him further downward. The mental images caused his pulse to quicken, rushing blood to places it ought not to go.
"Aw, that's not nice, brother," Said a cool, silky voice from nearby, "To damn a god."
"Loki," Thor said, "What are you doing outside Asgard?"
"Please, dear Thor, you know that I cannot be contained. However, you reek of arousal and regret, and I had to find out what that was about." Loki moved forward, grabbing his brother's chin between his thumb and forefinger, "Don't lie to me." He demanded.
Thor stared into flashing green eyes, his naivety taking over. "I—It was Tony Stark…" He muttered, feeling foolish for divulging him in such personal information; he looked away. "He seduced me."
"Look here," Loki whispered, locking eyes with the golden-haired god. He stared deeply, drinking in the shame they held. "Did he give you a reason?"
Thor felt uncomfortable under the unyielding gaze; he shook his head and whispered, "He did not. He…placed his lips upon mine." He would not tell about the icing, or what happened after the kiss. Loki did not need to know.
The god of mischief was rapt with attention, loving the agony. Thor seemed to notice this and pulled out of his brother's grasp. He turned away, disgusted with himself; he was a god, and yet here he was sniveling like some mawkish woman in front of Loki of all people. "I do not wish to speak about this any further."
Loki appeared before him, looking rather put-out, "Are you going to sit in stoic silence?" He asked, unable to drop the subject, "Will you not retaliate?"
"Perhaps," He finally answered, turning back toward the door. He did not see the broad smile stretched across his brother's face.
"You know," Loki called, "You used to be much more careless. When's the last time you've given into your desires?"
The question went unanswered as the tall, glass door swung shut behind the fleeting red cape.
Thor's sleep was restless as forbidden thoughts plagued his mind. He felt Tony's mouth molded against his once more, their tongues pushing and rolling. The odd combination of cake and alcohol conquered his sense of taste; sharp intakes of breath and hands sliding on flesh filled his ears. His body began to betray him as the mental image triggered the actual sensation of their exquisite kiss. He tried to tell himself that he was being used, that he wasn't meant to enjoy it, but he would have been a liar to admit that he didn't.
His eyes closed and a hand absently ghosted across his bare torso, causing gooseflesh to rise. He wanted to stop himself; to turn his mind off, but his awareness of how alone he was in the darkened bedroom was too much of a temptation. In that instant, his brother's final words started to make some sense. No one would know. No one could see his thoughts.
His hand slid further downward, feeling the ridges of his abdominal muscles hidden by sheets. He pictured Tony's mouth following the trail his hand made, the bristles of facial hair scratching against his bare flesh, a wet tongue dipping into his navel.
The god's breath hitched in his throat as the discomfort in his groin intensified. His fingertips brushed delicately against his warm, moistening tip and he bit down on his lip in anticipation. Another pulse of heat radiated through his core and he gripped himself. His mind's eye resumed its fantasy with Tony's mouth replacing his hand.
Thor's jaw dropped slightly, allowing heavier breaths to be taken. The pleasure he gave himself intensified. He stroked himself firmly, evenly, while picturing a dark head of hair slowly bobbing between his legs. A throaty moan escaped his lips; the toll of going as long as he has without having any sort of sexual encounter was definitely showing from how sensitive to his own touch he was.
His back arched upward and his hips began to slowly rock against his hand. His focus on his thoughts of Tony was fading, his mind becoming clouded with pure lust. He raised the back of his wrist to wipe his brow, but left it up there instead, too focused to do much else. Once more, his voice gave away his actions.
The god's heart was racing, pounding heavily against his chest. He felt alight with such sin, that he failed to realize the door opening then shutting quietly.
"My word, what a commotion you're causing!" A mockingly-astonished Loki said, quickly jerking Thor back to his senses. The startled god sat bolt upright, desperately gathering the sheets around his lower-half.
"What in all the hells is the meaning of this?" Thor demanded, highly angry, but also grateful the darkness hid how red his face had to be. "What brings you in my presence once more?" He asked, slightly less edgy, but his teeth stayed clenched as he spoke.
"I never left the tower," Loki replied calmly, smiling amusedly at how shy Thor had become. "I sensed something going on with you, and as a caring sibling, I decided to find out what it was."
"Caring?" The thunder god spat, as if the word was pure venom in his mouth, "I would say meddlesome better suits."
"Do you really believe this to be true?" The dark-haired man asked in barely a whisper, moving forward, "I could easily delve further." He was leaning over the bed now, pulling the sheets away. "And you wouldn't object." His fingertips grazed over Thor's exposed nude form, bright, curious eyes taking every bit of him in.
"You want this," He continued, stating it as a fact. He slicked his tongue along his hand before grasping his brother, taking over. He leaned forward further and placed his icy lips upon Thor's, not wasting any time to push his tongue inside.
Thor leaned back onto his forearm, while his free hand dug into Loki's dark locks, pulling the slighter form closer. He felt insane with desire, drunk on the rush of hormones, and it was like he couldn't handle another moment. His free hand left the hair to steady the hand gripping him, holding it in place as his body shook from the intense wave of pleasure. Every aching throb brought on thick, warm fluid spilling onto his hand.
"By the gods…" He breathed out, body losing its tension. He finally removed his hand, becoming aware that he was, indeed, still very much alone. He lay on the bed, breathing deeply, arms thrown out to both sides of him. It really had been a long time; the powerful orgasm had spent him of what energy general fatigue didn't already rob him of.
One thing was certain, though; he not only had sinful thoughts of Tony Stark, he was also fantasizing about Loki, which couldn't be any more inappropriate. With the come-down effect of his high passed, he started to think twice about making up scenarios with two unlikely people. He felt so wretched for making himself vulnerable and giving in to such a dark urge.
A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this. Any and all criticism and compliments are accepted!