Loki does a lot of things designed only to surprise. Tony, therefore, isn't sure why the god of mischief appearing suddenly in his workshop is far less nerve wracking than it should be. He tells himself it's because if Loki wanted to get the drop on him, he would never have appeared so conspicuously near a mirror Tony could see his reflection in.
"Good Evening, man of iron. Have you any time in your busy schedule for a god?" Loki asks, mouth twisted in a side ways smirk that is at once attractive and unnerving, teeth far too sharp, eyes far too calculating. He crosses his legs, arm draped loosely over the back of a sofa that has seen far better days, and probably one flammable experiment too many.
"Normally I'd have you call in to Pepper first." Tony shrugs, going over to his mini fridge in the corner, purposefully casual, shoulders rolled back, aware that Loki is not "Silvertongue" and "Liesmith" for no good reason. But what's a front, between two liars? "But what the heck, I was gonna take a break anyway. Beer?" he reaches into the mini fridge and pulls out two anyway, popping the top off both. He moves lazily, handing the Norse god the bottle slowly, before retreating closer to his work space, leaning against a counter, crossing an arm over his chest.
Loki smiles thinly, as sharp as a knife, and raises the bottle to him, tipping his head back to take a swig. Tony watches the pale line of his throat, his adam's apple moving up and down. He glances away, sipping his own beer far more delicately than Loki, swallowing thickly. He doesn't see green eyes watching him over the beer bottle. "This ale tastes like muddy water." Loki grumbles with distaste, setting the bottle on the floor.
"Sorry my beer doesn't meet your high standards, oh mighty one." Tony retorts lowly, before he can filter it, stop himself from goading a god who moves like air, could stab him right through with his glowing pimp stick like he was so much butter. He doesn't have his suit on, and Loki's temper is easy to flare.
Loki merely chuckles at him, deep and slow, the sound breathy. "I like that." he says. Tony quirks an eyebrow at him, not trusting himself to open his mouth again. "Mighty one. I like that a lot." he stands with a flourish, sweeping his cape back, staff held in a loose fist. He steps closer, each footfall measured and precise. "I'd like it more if you bowed while you said it." his voice is just as low and breathy as his chuckle, and Tony can't suppress his shudder.
"Yeah well. Don't expect that from me. I've never been the grovelling type. Not my style." Tony claims, one palm up, taking another sip of beer to ward off the sudden dryness in his mouth. The smile Loki gives him is small, devious, and more threatening than any of his previous ones.
"Would you like me to make you?" Loki asks lowly, and for a moment Tony thinks he could feel the god's breath across his lips, the faint brush of his fingers on his hips. His eyes are far too green from this close, far too hypnotic. "I think you would look quite good grovelling. Though, any activity done on your knees seems good for you. I could help you discover a talent for it." he can see every strand of Loki's thick dark eyelashes, his gaze lowered deviously, looking down on him.
"Nah. I'll pass." Tony murmurs, hardly daring to speak any louder when Loki is right there, watching his mouth, following the shape of it as he speaks, unabashedly staring, his own mouth twitching up just slightly at the corner. "Maybe next time?"
Loki steps back and hums, their thighs brushing, hair falling coyly into his face, just as intentional as every other movement he's made in these past fifteen minutes. "Next time." he repeats. "I will not be required to schedule an appointment with Miss Pepper?" he asks, grinning.
"I think all involved parties would prefer it if you didn't." Tony rumbles, able to breathe now that Loki has backed off to a safe distance, farther from him. Less of a walking sex toy of the kinkiest kind. Loki nods. Aware of what he's been doing to him. Aware that Tony's never felt so conflicted and that he doesn't appreciate the feeling at all.
"Next time then, Man of Iron." Loki looks over his shoulder at him, and winks. "And then perhaps, I can help you practice your grovelling."