Disclaimer: Thor, Iron Man, the Avengers and the characters within belong to Marvel and their respective authors and co-authors. No profit it being made off this story.
Tony loved Pepper Pots. It had become such a common thought in his head, never spoken but always present, that it had practically become a law of science. Every hour thoughts of her would race through his mind, often encouraged by her presence to mould ideas into reality. When they were together he would kiss her, caress her, and they would be there for each other in every way they were capable. The sex was always brilliant. Even after a full day of working a job for Nick Fury or fighting alongside the Avengers, when he would go home exhausted and often defeated, she would be there to touch him, to support him, and give him just what he needed.
As much as she gave him, and as much as he hoped he gave her, and all the love he felt, expressed and contained; it didn't seem to be a limit.
There was a limit to the love perhaps, for the times Tony felt humiliated and small, just a mechanic next to gods and superhumans, and would lash out against his machines and innovations. The times he found himself on the receiving end of Pepper's soft, badly concealed looks of pity, he found himself sinking further just in that moment before he rediscovered his love, but the next time he sank he would find himself in an even deeper, darker pit.
Pepper, through all the love he felt for her and for them together, was not always enough. He would find his gaze straying to the other Avengers and wondering if perhaps there was a reason those in the superhero business were so often single. Thor had Jane, of course, and Steve had loved a girl back in his own time, but neither relationship truly worked. Jane had been in serious danger the first time Loki had set himself upon attacking Earth, and still lay cloaked in that danger now and at every moment. Thor let her down every time he failed to be there, to hold her and love her because he was in the midst of his true calling; battle. For just as Steve had wasted away in the tundra and left his love, Thor abandoned Jane to take part in the fight, and Tony was left wondering if those women were left to fall into a pit of darkness as well. If the heroes threw themselves into the rough to save the human race in its entirety, then where did that leave the individuals?
Tony was an individual just as Pepper was, and as much as they loved each other and desired to be with the other, there would always be that separation in which they would follow their own desires and their differences would tear them apart and dig pits that would come to form their graves.
As much as Tony loved Pepper, which was a love that often enveloped his entire mechanical heart, it did not make them a single, united front. The problem with being with someone else was just that; they were someone else. There wasn't a way in existence to always be with the other, to always crave the same touches, to feel the same emotions, and to desire the same goals.
He loved Pepper more than he could say, but Tony still found himself in this situation and certainly not fighting it.
The warehouse had been abandoned but never properly cleaned out, evacuated without care the moment there was a threat on the lives on those inside. It appeared to be an old newspaper mill, printing presses scattering the large chamber and leaving a residual coating of ink underneath the thick covering of dust. Tony had dented one of the machines on his way in through the previously locked cargo door, breaking apart its side and scattering bits of metal and machinery across the floor. He had since moved to stand alongside the wall opposite, though the semi-darkness did nothing to cloak the flashing of reflections across his own metallic armor. He was an easy target at this point, the armor on his shoulder blown off alongside a small chunk of muscle, hindering his movements and making his eyes flash red with pain every time he was required to move. Blood was soaking in through the space between his armor and his skin now, coating it and making it awkward to try and move his arm beneath the metal without encouraging the realization that he really should have altered the suit's self-cleaning abilities before coming into battle.
It was only a moment he stood there, half using the wall as a support, seemingly unnoticed. Just enough for two shallow breaths, drawing hot air made moist by his own sweat into his lungs just to feel his shoulder twitch and an aching pain to radiate throughout his torso. The first step into the factory was as light as he had come to expect of his enemy, portraying the image of a dancer flawlessly prepared to act out his next move despite there being an unlimited potential of what move it might actually be. Tony had come to see power in that step, to know that beneath the seemingly weak frame there was strength greater than his own and power he could never access or understand.
Behind the foot followed a body, also cloaked in armor though of a different manner, the sunshine outside backlighting him and converging into the image of a half-drawn demon. The figure stood in that spot, still other than the inclination of his head towards Stark as he huddled in the dust and shadows.
"Is that it, then?" The voice asked, slow, mocking, and slightly tainted by a coy disappointment, "I was expecting more of you, Mr. Stark. My brother speaks well of his allies, and from what I had observed in your prior struggles you tried to rather stubbornly earn such a commendation."
Tony felt the urge to spit at his enemy, and might have done so if it were not for the mask blocking any potential for him to actually complete the action in a manner that wasn't just about to backfire.
"Still no keen remarks or foolish back-talk? Really, Mr. Stark, I hadn't considered you the type to keep your mouth shut in any situation." The figure spoke again, more mockingly this time and with a greater degree of disappointment as Tony still failed to respond.
There was a moment that seemed almost frozen in time; not still, but everlasting. The atmosphere was tense and the stench of Tony's blood was beginning to permeate the musty air. There then came yet another break in the near-silence as that same voice broke the air again, reverberating throughout the dead room.
"Perhaps I just haven't been trying hard enough?"
This was the first time Tony had come face-to-face with Loki, and he had much expected it to be generic; comparable to meetings with old enemies, or instances where he had faced a threat stronger than himself, echoing his first tense assemblies with Thor. As he discovered in this moment, however, the moment was just as painfully indescribable as Loki was himself when you found yourself pressed up against a wall by him. The hand of the Asgardian was encircled around his throat, and though Loki had yet to apply any real pressure, Tony felt as though his suit was already more of a danger than a safety as he realized how easily Loki would be able to snap off a section and drive it right through his throat.
"I'll give this another try, then." This time Loki's voice seemed to echo around the walls and through Tony's head as he found himself unable to process it even before he felt a rush of air before his face. There was a sick groaning of metal against force as Loki pierced his fingers through the armor covering Tony's neck and for a short, indescribable moment he could feel the backs of Loki's fingers pressed tight and surprisingly cool against his heated skin as Loki twisted them for leverage. The moment passed alongside Loki's fingers as they ripped apart the armor, crumpling and decimating it as he ripped Tony's mask from his face.
There was a soft, muted clang as the piece of scrap metal hit the dusty concrete floor and for a brief second Tony's eyes tried to follow the mask's trajectory, but were quickly replaced on Loki's face as that same, unrestrained hand came to lay across his temporarily exposed throat. He found himself gazing directly into his enemy's eyes, for the first time seeing Loki, uninhibited by technology. Loki, in appearance, was as indescribably human as Thor, but the power radiating from him and intensifying with each pulse that jumped from Loki's hand to Tony's throat was entirely inhuman.
"Still no objections, Mr. Stark?"
This time Loki's voice seemed so much more imposing, so close to his ear but spoken only as a breath that wisped across his heated skin.
Tony had heard many stories of the Trickster God Loki, of his treachery and his mischief, but even with this background information adding reinforcement, he was unaware of any adequate way to describe the look in Loki's eyes as he gazed at Tony so close, in the structure of his face as he wove together an expression of which Tony could see every detail.
Often when proposed new discoveries or presented new, unprecedented information the instinctual reaction was to pause; to make no move until the brain could try and rationalize or a proper response could be formulated. As it seemed at this moment, however, the case was different when you were a few inches from a powerful, mischievous god, blood loss was making you lightheaded and the consequences could be damned because this was happening right now.
This is what Tony would later propose to himself as an explanation to why, instead of shoving Loki off and blasting him like any good, rational hero would do to his enemy, he instead leaned forward to catch Loki's lips in a kiss.
The reaction, as one might have guessed coming from a cunning, battle-worn enemy, was rather quick and with quite a bit of well concealed vigor. Tony, still in a daze that had been plaguing him since Loki approached, only watched without a spoken word as Loki leaned back slightly past the previously maintained distance and stared a him with a look that Tony could describe only as 'quizzical' at that moment. This period of observation and questioning seemed to last longer than the kiss itself had, and by the time it began to wane Tony was strongly craving the feel of his heated skin pressing against another's. It was within the following breath that Tony observed a change in Loki's face as his expression advanced from quizzical to confident and his presence seemed to advance on Tony even as he stood mostly still. Though as self-confident and mischievous as Tony had come to expect of Loki's expression, the look he saw there now appeared to have a greater sense of playfulness, and perhaps even a closeness and reality-hinted appearance as though for once the situation wasn't tucked neatly into a corner of Loki's plan and the god was truly and fully present and involved.
It was with this observation that Tony found himself being enveloped in heat and desire, and that alongside the pressing of Loki's lips against his own that he discovered something without limit, something that was not described as any one thing and something that held no predetermined potential or path to follow. This thing here, now, with someone–something–he didn't even know, let alone consider personal potential with, was his escape to the limits that bound him tight, to the titles and capacity that restrained him to himself, and his rope thrown into a deep, dark pit with no saviour or end in sight but the obvious intention of getting him out.
He found his hands to be surprisingly clumsy as he moved one to grasp the back of Loki's neck, tangling his finger's in the other's hair, and the other hand to pull at an edge of the armor that adorned the man's body. Loki's lips were soft against his own but pressed just as strongly, and though it was Tony to push open the other's mouth with his tongue it was Loki who won dominance and grasped at Tony's hair as he pried his head back and forced his own tongue inside the other's mouth. The moment was only long enough for a short, harsh gasp to be passed into Loki's mouth as Tony found himself pressed harshly and bodily against the wall. Another hand joined in his hair as Loki grasped at the back of Tony's neck, forcing the kiss deeper and Tony lost most of his senses as blood started pounding harshly through his body and his armor began to hinder an even greater extent of pleasure. By the time Tony was able to express himself somewhat properly his lips were deep red and his chest heaving to attain breath and it was almost a moment too long as Loki pulled his hands away from Tony's hair and reached towards himself.
"No," was the only thing Tony was able to rasp out as he reached one of his own armor-clad hands to catch Loki around the wrist, "my suit, I need…" He dropped the end of the sentence as he tried to figure out exactly what he did need to get rid of the high-tech suit currently preventing him from advancing in a very basic activity. However, it seemed Loki had figured it out nonetheless as he reached a hand out to lay flat on the centerpiece that was Tony's life support system. For a fleeting second it crossed Tony's mind that his life was held wholly by his enemy in this moment, and that with the simplest twitch of muscles Loki could have him doubled over and dying. However, it was with Loki's next movement that the warning to himself fled his mind as the strange sensation of magic overcame his body and filled throughout his suit as it began to disassemble itself, sections falling dully to the floor and leaving him standing there in a t-shirt and a pair of loose fitting pants that were in no way loose fitting around the groin at that moment. As Tony's mind still reveled in the change of attire and the new variety of sensations he was prone to, Loki's hands found themselves back around Tony's neck and his lips pressed tightly against Tony's mouth, tongue forcing its way inside.
With a low, needy groan Tony pressed himself closer to Loki and joined in the kiss in time with a buck of his hips upwards into Loki, the slight gasp and renewed fervor he received more than enough motivation to continue. As Tony played his part in the sexual encounter he also tried to advance it, grasping at Loki's clothing and armor and wondering how the hell it was intended to be removed. As Loki seemed to ignore his frustration towards tugging at the armor in various places to no effect, Tony tried to force the kiss back on Loki and pressed his hands harder into Loki's sides as he attempted to get the message across that Loki needed to undress. However, as Loki opened his eyes slyly and gazed at Tony with mischief before pulling back a hair's breadth and whispering into Tony's mouth "Figure it out yourself," a feeling of aggravation and dread began to sweep inside his stomach. Loki promptly went back to attacking Tony's mouth and wound one arm tighter around his neck while removing the other and pulling it around the collar of Tony's shirt, just to tear it down and through the fabric, ripping the shirt open and tugging it roughly down his shoulders and arms to fall off him and onto the ground. Tony was almost certain Loki was not the kind of man to act so roughly without reason, and therefore considered the act a show of just how easily Loki was able to undress him. With a growl into Loki's mouth and the thankful realization that his shoulder had stopped bleeding, though blood still coated his arm, he reached out one hand onto each of Loki's sides and began searching roughly for any clasps, buckles, or other means to undo the armor and get it off Loki's body.
After the end of that kiss as well as of another, Tony had finally succeeded in finding and undoing the clasps of Loki's armor and let it fall to the ground in what he found to be a celebratory 'thud.' Loki's clothes were significantly easier to remove, but by the time he had Loki shirtless and had finally achieved access to bare flesh, Loki had already snuck his way down to wrap his lips around Tony's jugular and a hand creeping into the waistband of his pants. Tired of the pace, which his throbbing cock announced was much too slow, Tony removed one of his own hands from Loki's side and grasped the man's bare wrist and hand, shoving both their hands roughly into his own pants. It was with great gratification that Loki's hand bumped his head and the man grasped him by the shaft, his body reacting by greedily bucking into Loki's hand and body. For a moment he left his hand grasping Loki tightly by the wrist and the other clenched onto the man's chest, but he soon found them both on the man's nipples massaging in a manner that, based on the needy groans Loki released into the crook of his neck, was pleasing. As Loki's hand began to pursue a rhythm he shoved the man's chin up and pried his thumb inside the other's teeth, forcing his mouth open as he pulled in for yet another deep kiss. With one hand around the back of Loki's neck, and Loki's own hand mimicking him as he wrapped his arm tighter around Tony's neck, drawing him in closer, he forced his other hand down onto the waist of Loki's trousers. Shoving them roughly down and exposing Loki fully he grasped his own hand around the other's shaft, pumping in a rhythm intended to match that the other used on him. Loki's hand left its position for a brief moment to shove Tony's pants down more fully as well, leaving both exposed, gripping each other and bucking as they advanced. The kissing ended clumsily as all attention was directed elsewhere, and as their muscles tensed and the pace increased they forced their bodies even closer, as though trying to mould themselves together to achieve as much pleasurable contact as physically possible. Loki, despite not having been worked on as long, came first into Tony's hand and onto his front with a shuddering of muscles and bucking of hips, but maintained his pace and had Tony coming as well quickly after the fact.
Loki, caught in the swell of chemicals and the euphoria of orgasm, pressed himself against Tony, leaning on him as they both relied on the wall as a support. They stood there, just like that, for a period of time Tony hadn't bothered to properly track, before he shifted himself to squeeze his hand a little tighter against Loki's backside and get more of a feel for it than he had bothered to with Loki's body during the majority of the encounter. It was at this that Loki pressed his hand a little harder against Tony's hip in a manner that at first appeared to be a reciprocation of Tony's action. However, as he leaned back, away from Tony, and balanced his weight not on Tony's body but his own feet it became clear that this was the conclusion of the incident. Loki unwrapped his arm from around Tony's neck, though he trailed his fingers faintly across Tony's neck and a freshly emerging hickey he had created there. Still naked from the knees up, Loki gazed silently at that mark as his usual aura of seclusion from reality began to envelop him once again. It was then, for the first time in a while that either of them spoke a properly formed sentence, that Loki asked absently "You have a girlfriend?"
Tony nodded responsively and muttered "Pepper," while his thoughts tried to escape the fog of orgasm and for his mind to function properly. Again Loki's fingers prodded softly at the forming bruise, and with a moment of tingling and the passing of energy from the magician's fingers into his skin, the bruise began to fade faster than it had been forming. It was the first time Tony found reason to be truly speculative about Loki's actions, for though lust, curiosity and mischief all seemed fine explanations for the other's actions up to this point, Tony's scattered mind couldn't come up with a reason for such a response. To express concern about leaving a mark on Tony that clearly spoke of a sexual encounter, and would therefore resolve in the obvious conclusion from his girlfriend of Tony's cheating and subsequent misery when she ended the relationship, such an expression suggested that Loki felt compassion for him. However, this idea was so absurd that Tony couldn't even properly form the notion in his mind, leaving him straggling and searching for loose ends and possibilities. As Loki looked him over for any other irremovable signs of the encounter, Tony's mind tried and failed to discover any possible reason for Loki's concern. Therefore, as Loki completed his analysis and returned his gaze to Tony's face, he couldn't help but bluntly asking "Why do you care?"
The spoken words hung in the air, received but not responded to as Loki waved absently towards his clothes and armor where they lay discarded on the ground. With magic they rose to re-ascertain themselves upon his body as he gave himself a look and preformed another vague wave towards himself to be cleaned up. Still silent, Loki adjusted his sleeves and armor manually before glancing back up at the man standing not a foot from him to give him a quick mischievous smile before turning sideways and leaving to walk contentedly away. At the doorway where the orange-tinted light of near-dusk still shone through, he stopped and inclined his head towards Tony once more.
"You surprise me, Stark. I'd like for you to have the chance to do so again the next time we meet." Loki said simply, standing still like a half-drawn figure that one would never be able to properly discern until the painting is complete, before stepping silently out into the light and disappearing from view.
Tony loved Pepper Potts with his whole heart, but that love was not a limit on him as an individual. And that night, when he returned home to the love she felt for him, and to the pity she expressed for his weakness when she saw his trashed suit, Tony found himself wishing he could grasp the rope hanging above his head and climb out of his deep, dark pit.