Eleven words; a paragraph per word. After I got the words, the story just poured out. Thank you for reading. Rating for language and smut. Superhusbands with a side dish of Loki.

Words.

Fondue.

Steve watched Tony quietly and tried to fathom that there was a time where they weren't in love. Tony grunted and mumbled to himself as he worked on a faulty mechanism in the suit's helmet, his skin flushed and slicked with oil and sweat. "Tony..." The brunette wiped his forehead with a forearm and looked up at his clean-cut husband. "What's up, Rogers?" At first he was sure that Steve was smiling crookedly at the nickname he just wouldn't drop, but all doubts were pushed from his mind as Steve licked his lips. "I'm in the mood for fondue."

Blue.

His gasp was sharp and reverberated against the walls. "Loki?" Steve spun around to face him, and sure enough, the god was in the bathroom. He unconsciously clutched at the towel swathed about his hips as he took in Loki's nudity and apparent arousal. "My captain," he purred. "I was hoping you could... help me." Loki sauntered over to Steve, whose breath caught in his throat. Loki's skin flushed through with blue, threads of raised bumps making patterned decorations. His voice was smooth and low. "You see, Steve, I am also of the ice."

Water.

Tony immediately took notice when his husband began to get clumsy. Steve was never clumsy; he was the order to Tony's chaos. He rushed to the kitchen after hearing glass shattering, and walked in on Steve staring helplessly down at a shattered pitcher. Ice cubes slid across the linoleum on rivulets of cold water. Tony tried to read the troubled lines of Steve's face, but it might as well have been a foreign language. "Babe, what's going on?" Tony murmured, his warm and calloused hand making soothing circles over his lover's shoulder blades. Steve just shook.

Wine.

Steve had gone through great lengths in the beginning of their marriage to wean Tony off his alcoholic playboy lifestyle. Tony found that it wasn't hard when somebody like Steve filled that void with his warmth and enthusiasm for life and love. Now that Steve had gone catatonic on him lately, he found his fingers itching for a bottle. Wine was all they had, for special occasions, and in a couple hours Tony had ingested two bottles and made to finish off a third.

Plate.

Loki stroked a long finger down Tony's chest, fingertip squeaking over the surface of the arc reactor. "Even underneath all of your armor, your metal plates and electronics, you are still adorned with parts." Tony hissed as the god's other hand squeezed and stroked lazily at his aching length. Loki was nude, where Tony still wore a dirty pair of jeans (if pants around the ankles counted as 'wearing' in the first place). Loki nipped at Tony's neck as he thumbed a bead of pre-cum over the head of his cock. His efforts earned him a shaky moan from Tony, who bucked his hips into the willing hand.

Goose.

Tony slipped into the shower just as Steve was massaging shampoo into his hair. "Tony -wha-" Tony crashed his lips into Steve's. He turned the soldier with rough, persistent hands, pressing his chest against the shower wall. "I want you, Steve," Tony mumbled, hands making purchase on Steve's muscular ass. He squeezed and lingered, probing suggestively. He circled the tight, heated muscle in the center and pressed an inquisitive thumb inside. Steve yelped, further fueling Tony's need. "T-Tony, please - stop, you're hurtingme!" In a blur of motion, Tony found himself being shoved against the opposite wall, hard enough for the air to be forced from his lungs. Steve stared at him with wide, fearful eyes before turning and leaving him there.

Convenience.

Steve had not taken a joint shower with Tony for days. Tony understood, and kept his distance. He fought between fantasies of a certain lean, white god and feelings of crushing guilt. He couldn't bring himself to really face Steve. They spent most of the time during the day apart. Steve didn't visit Tony in the lab anymore, and Tony started hoarding bottles down there. They faced away from each other in bed. Tony stared at the shower wall, cooled water cascading down his slumped form. The place he'd tried to reclaim Steve, beat down the shame. He forgot how to be a husband. When the air turned frigid, and Tony's skin prickled with goose-bumps, he closed his eyes. Cold fingertips stroked his cheek, and he didn't flinch or pull away. "You wait for me now. How incredibly convenient," Loki purred.

Shudder.

Almost every night now, Loki visited Tony. Once or twice, Tony cried as he let the god have him - in his hands, topping him, underneath him, being inside of him and having him inside. They fucked every and any which way, whatever Loki desired. At this particular moment in time, Tony was inside Loki's throat. Tony groaned and snapped his hips up every time Loki hummed. He thrilled at the feeling of hitting the back of his throat, that a god would be interested in swallowing his length. The thought made his toes curl.

Authorize.

Steve wasn't an idiot. He knew his marriage was falling apart. He ached every day for the man he'd married; his near-infidelity and consequential guilt was weighing him down. It was making him on edge and unable to normally function. Hell, he couldn't even make love to Tony - he shuddered at the shower memory. Of course Tony had come on strong. Steve felt his stomach flip with unease as he made his way down a few levels to Tony's lab. He needed to make it right. He practiced what to say in his head as he approached the retina scanner and leaned down for authorization. He entered the room purposefully, launching immediately into his speech so as not to chicken out. He faltered and his words died midair as he rested his eyes on his husband, lounging in his chair with Loki working between his legs.

Long.

The look on Steve's face - his achingly beautiful face - was burned into Tony's mind forever. No amount of heavy drinking over the next week or so could drown out his features twisted in such pain. Loki had primly gathered his hair back as he stood, greeting Steve before vanishing into the air. Of course they'd fought. Steve screamed until his words bled into sobs. Tony took it all as he stared at the floor, shaking with the force of Steve's anger and hurt. He didn't know why he didn't think Steve would find out - of course he would. He wished Steve would throttle him senseless, but he didn't. He knew he wouldn't. Steve was a good guy like that. Tony slid further and further into himself after Steve left the tower. When he finally mustered the strength to leave the lab, he was faced with Steve's ring on his pillow - on the bed they once shared.

Reflection.

It took a solid month before Tony began to pick up the pieces of his life. He could not keep tinkering and crying and drinking - if he ever hoped to even talk to Steve again, he would have to be the man Steve deserved. He did his best to clean himself up, and what he couldn't manage to do, he asked Pepper to help with. He wore their rings on a light chain, always next to his reactor. Every morning when he faced the bathroom mirror, and fingered the jewelry, letting it clink lightly back against the bright blue; just like Steve's eyes. It was only fitting for the things that saved him to lie next to each other.