A drunk Tony Stark encounters a certain bored God of Mischief and a night of bad decisions ensues.
Tony glared at the empty glass in his hand, willing it to refill. The bartender looked about ready to cut him off, but even on an empty stomach only a small amount of drunkenness had hit him yet. He let his eyes wander lazily across the hectic room. All around him, enormous smiles pressed themselves onto made-up faces; most basking in the presence of the rich and famous, all plastered out of their minds.
Tony's eyes landed on the opposite side of the room, on bright red hair that sprouted from a rather tall, slightly pale girl's head. A champagne glass balanced elegantly between her fingers as she spoke to a gentleman across from her; Tony watched her lips form themselves around the words she spoke. She smirked as she talked, seeing Tony out of the corner of her eye. It was her companion's turn to speak; the girl's eyes wandered to Tony's as she pretended to listen.
Without taking his eyes off of her, he reached to his right, picking up the glass belonging to the fellow next to him and took a sip. The girl smiled wider as Tony successfully ignored his angry neighbor. She bit her lip slightly and then moved across the room toward Tony, leaving the now confused gentleman behind. As she walked up, Tony took the last sip of his drink.
"Mr. Stark." She took a sip of her champagne.
"You have me at a disadvantage." He spoke effortlessly over the music.
"Well, of course. Who doesn't know you? A rather simple answer, I think."
"And so, I'm not allowed your name?"
"Hardly as important as Tony Stark's, is it? And it's not like you'll remember it in the morning."
"Ah, a bit presumptuous, aren't we?"
"Well, what's a girl to think? All that staring can only have so many ideas behind it."
"Might I ask what your ideas are?" Tony jumped and turned to see Loki standing next to them, a small sound recorder in his hand as he questioned the unnamed girl in front of him. A small look of surprise crossed the girl's face before she composed it into a smile, anger filling her eyes as she took her recorder back from Loki.
"And might I inquire who it is you work for?"
"New York Times." Still smiling.
"Well, Ms. New York Times. I doubt Mr. Stark has any interest in being the next subject of your vapid entertainment blog." A guess, but the vanishing smirk on the girl's face indicated that Loki had hit the nail on the head. "You can be going now." The girl glared at Loki a moment longer before turning on her heel and storming away.
Tony watched the exchange with wide eyes, the alcohol finally, although slowly working its way into his system. That wasn't good; not if it came to a brawl between him and Loki. When Loki was done, Tony looked around.
"I could have sworn I was talking to a woman a moment ago. Why'd you have to scare her off?" Tony almost pouted.
"She was out for scandal."
"You seem to be under the impression that I don't have to deal with the press every day. I've learned how to handle them." Tony paused for a moment. "This isn't Asgard…"
"It would appear not."
"Should I be getting my suit…?"
"I hardly think that's necessary." Loki answered. Tony waited for him to continue. He didn't.
"But I don't get to know why you're here?" Tony finally asked, stirring the ice around his otherwise empty glass.
"It's a party, Stark. People are here to have a good time. Why should my reasons be any different?"
"Maybe because you're supposed to be locked up in Asgard?"
"Well, that was hardly any fun at all. Any mischief to be made there fell completely flat. No sense of humor, those guards."
"Is that what taking over Earth was to you? A stunt to—to entertain yourself?" Tony's words slurred together slightly. Something flashed in Loki's eyes as he took in the man in front of him.
"That's all anything is to me, Stark." A vicious smirk spread across Loki's face. A partygoer passed behind the two, knocking Loki into Tony. The smirk widened as Loki slowly took the empty glass from Tony's hand and reached behind him to place the glass on the bar, his mouth close to Tony's ear. "So why not entertain me?"
"I—"
Before Tony could finish his response, Loki's hand closed around his arm and he was dragged off the bar stool. In his rather confused, somewhat drunken stupor, Tony fell against Loki on his way out to the dance floor. Loki caught him and, as they reached the floor, immediately led him into a spin. As soon as Tony regained his footing, he let go of Loki's hand and stepped away.
"I've no intention of sleeping—or, as it is, dancing—with the enemy, Loki, especially not one that threw me out a window." Tony began to walk back through the crowd, but Loki's hand closed around his wrist.
"And I'm to believe that was your phone I felt when you were back at the bar, Stark?" He pulled Tony close, speaking into his ear again as their bodies touched. "It seemed to me a lot like intent. Besides, the Tesseract incident was not the first time I wreaked havoc on your planet and I can't say it will be the last."
Tony pushed back as the tempo changed. They were moving rather fast through the crowd now as the beat picked up. "So you are up to something?"
"Oh, I certainly didn't say that." Another of Loki's smirks crawled wide across his face. As they reached the far edge of the dance floor, Loki spun Tony again and pressed their hips together, moving them with the beat.
"You didn't not say it either." Tony attempted to put distance between them as he tried to clear his head. The alcohol was certainly affecting him now, not to mention the dancing.
"Hmm, so what are you supposed to think?"
"You understand my confusion."
"Understand it? I relish it." Tony closed his eyes as Loki's hand slid around to the small of his back, drawing them together again. "The great Iron Man done in by a few drinks and simple words."
"Is that your plan then? Take the Avengers out individually until you're free to devour our planet?"
"Mmmmm." Loki pulled Tony around to corner into a deserted hallway. Tony was pressed up against the wall, Loki's hands on either side of his head. "I could settle for devouring you."
Loki's lips crashed into Tony's, pressing Tony harder into the wall. Tony's eyes went wide as he unsuccessfully tried to push Loki away.
"Loki! Someone—"
"What? Someone could see? What do you care? You've never been one to bother about what others think, especially these people. I saw your face before; you hate them." Loki sneered. Tony reached up and untangled Loki's fingers from his hair.
"I was going to say," he said gently. "That someone was coming." Tony looked pointedly, albeit slightly sloppily, toward the other end of the hall. Right on cue was the sound of a glass breaking and heels scrambling back down the hall.
"Let's hope that wasn't our lovely blogger friend." Loki smirked. "Also, let's get out of here."
"And gahwhere?" Tony slurred. Somewhere in his mind, something was telling him this was a terrible idea. Unfortunately, and as usual, Tony had no interest in listening to it.
"Someplace more…" The space around them shifted until they were standing in front of a bed – Tony's bed. "Entertaining." Before Tony could fully process the change, Loki was pushing him down into his own sheets.
Tony shook his head, as if to clear it. The room would not stop spinning. Where had the hall gone? And what was he suddenly lying on? He looked closer and recognized his own bed. That last drink had certainly been a bad idea.
As Loki crawled onto the bed – and subsequently, onto Tony – he let his hand drag lazily up Stark's leg. Tony shivered, burying his hands under the sheets to keep himself from putting them on Loki. A deep chuckle sounded next to Tony's ear.
"Why fight it, Stark?" Loki touched a slender finger to Tony's dress shirt. Tony's eyes widened as the fabric slowly dissolved into a faint, green smoke. "Why fight me?"
"I—," Tony's breath hitched as Loki's finger lightly traced the arc reactor. Pale lips curled themselves into a sly grin before lowering to touch the cold metal of the arc reactor. Tony shivered. "I liked that shirt," he finally managed.
An almost inaudibly low chuckle left Loki's mouth. A cold finger traced the reactor once more before sliding down Tony's abdomen and tucking itself into the waistband of Tony's pants. Tony closed his eyes tightly and let his head fall back onto the pillows.
"My my, Stark. I'm almost disappointed in your lack of self-control." Loki's fingers curled themselves around Tony's waist as he brought their hips together. Tony shuddered, involuntarily bucking his hips upward. Loki moaned, his breath cold on Tony's ear. "Almost." Loki's teeth lightly grazed Tony's earlobe as he moved down to kiss the neck below. Tony squeezed his eyes shut again; the room refused to stop spinning. His fist opened and closed on the sheets. Loki shifted his weight, causing their hips to brush together again.
Suddenly Tony's hand was tangled in Loki's hair as he almost desperately pulled their faces together. Loki smirked into Tony's mouth, his hand moving to the small of Tony's back.
Light streamed into the bedroom as Tony rolled over with a loud groan. Dum-E rolled in slowly, a glass of water extended. With a sigh, Tony reached over the empty space beside him and took the glass.
"Thanks, Dum-E. Did the paper come yet?" Tony grumbled as he rubbed his eyes. As the robot nodded, Tony pulled himself out of bed, making an effort to ignore the emptiness it held.
What does it matter? He thought to himself. It's not like he had any obligation to stay. I certainly wouldn't have and I certainly didn't expect him to. He's the God of Mischief for fuck's sake, a wanted criminal. What the hell was I thinking? I mean, I wasn't of course.
His head pounding, Tony made his way to his kitchen where the paper waited on the counter. Sharp, elegant words graced a Post-It note above the headline.
"Word certainly travels fast when your name's involved." the beautiful script read. And smaller, underneath; "Seems our friend moved up in the world…" Tony lifted it, making the headline visible. "Billionaire Playboy Widens the Playing Field – Who is the Mystery Man?"
Beneath, next to the author's name, lay a small photo of the woman Loki rejected for Tony the night before; followed by a lovely, above-the-fold photo of Tony practically being pinned to the wall by an unidentifiable, dark-haired gentleman. Tony remembered the footsteps he heard just before they left the party.
"Dammit, Loki." Tony swore. He knew he had a reputation of doing what – or who – he wanted, but he did still have a company to run; he usually attempted to keep the more risqué encounters somewhat discreet.
He took the Post-It into his hand again as a thought crossed his mind. He glanced at the clock; the paper could have only arrived 20 minutes ago, at most. For Loki to have written this note, he would have had to stay until morning.
Tony was surprised to find a small smile grace his lips before a feeling of dread hit him hard in the stomach. This was Loki he was thinking about. S.H.E.I.L.D.s most wanted villain. What was he doing?
There will be plot after this, I swear.
And tears.
You've been warned.
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