"It doesn't work that way." He wasn't expecting his captor to show up this soon. It has probably been around three to five hours since he woke up blindfolded and very securely tied to a chair. Or otherwise; he supposes it is one, a sturdy one at that and strangely comfortable. The cushions give away that he's probably not in for torture; it's more of an strategy. However, he cannot tell if it's a strategy to throw him off or to negotiate. Given how the chains do little to allow any movement, he's more swayed towards the former. Either way, he is not to let his guard down. Perhaps he's only found himself in adversity a handful of times, but that doesn't mean he's not more than fully capable of reversing the situation.
Yes, the incredibly snug cuffs around both his wrists and ankles may be an inconvenience at the moment, but they're actually the only he can recognize as one. Getting out of wherever he is won't be a problem. Taking down the organization and the authoritative asshole that just spoke to him as he tried to yank the chains with his bionic arm won't be a challenge. He's done this plenty of times. In fact, he could probably do all that while still chained.
"Good. Those are...special chains. Not even an enhanced mortal like you would stand a chance." He frowns; it was impossible to ignore the scorn in which he said 'mortal' and that surely crosses out a bunch of possible candidates. He could probably list alphabetically (and reverse alphabetically) the villains that could list 'human race eradication' as their utmost goal, but at the top of his head there was a name already. It's only a matter of time before the man reveals who he is. And then he'll find the answer to the little kinks in his escape plan. Escape only, given how he believes killing the asshole will be more complicated than he can fathom.
And actually, now that he considers that his captor could be someone with outer-space resources and unmeasurable strenght, getting rid of the chains may be harder than he first believed. Damn, how he hates mutants and aliens; mortals surely are an easier target.
He feels considerably lighter, meaning he was stripped from all his weapons, both the obvious ones and the concealed ones. His vest remained tight around his upper body like a second skin, which is another sign that the man doesn't mean to harm him just yet.
He's only playing with his head.
The man laughs; it's a low and breathy laugh, a little sinister even. He can hear him pace in front of him, the steps coming consequentially closer. From the lack of any other sounds, he can tell the man is probably not armed and without any sort of armor; cocky of having him (seemingly) successfully immobilized. His over-confidence is also another telling factor, not like he needs any more confirmation as to who it is. It's obvious by now.
"You're really quiet," he points out, significantly close now. If his left leg wasn't cuffed to the chair's leg, he could've easily kicked the man on the knee. It probably wouldn't have gotten him anywhere, but at least the exchange wouldn't be so one-sided. "Is it because your brain is busy trying to plot out ways to escape? Because, allow me to give it a rest. There is no way you are leaving this place. Unless I so command it."
He wants to snort. Or just do anything to show how unimpressed he is. He's lost count of the many times he's been delivered variations of that line; they mean nothing to him, especially after he's managed to make them swallow their words.
Perhaps he's never been this successfully immobilized, but that doesn't mean a thing.
"You probably believe I am...full of shit." He stretches his neck, as if pretending to no longer be interested in whatever the man is saying, and also pretending he doesn't notice the man coming even closer. "And in a way I am but you won't be leaving."
"What am I here for...Loki?" He might as well just cut to the chase for him. It's clear Loki would rather carry on with his belittling comments and the self ego-boosting for still a while longer.
There is a brief silence and he'd have loved to see his expression. "So you do know who I am."
"Know your enemy."
"In your case I believe that means everyone."
"Why am I here?" He asks again, trying to cut short another round of redundant commentary about how much of an inferior being he is compared to him. All bullshit.
"That's none of your concern. You are mine now." Those words mean nothing to him, and the arrogance of his tone, if anything, incite him to keep up with a plan of escape. The moment Loki lets his guard down, he'll be quick to find his weak spot and make his move. "You are quite intriguing. I can't tell if you are a mind of your own or acting on behalf of someone else's mind...or if you're just pretending to be the latter."
He doesn't attempt to clear Loki's doubt and just remains silent once more. He tries to shift on his seat to pop a few joints on his back; he aches to stretch his legs, but the only relief he can find is by moving his feet as much as his heavy boots allow him. Loki doesn't attempt to press him for answers and just continues to pace around him. At some point he begins to hum some tune, which allows him to make further inferences about his surroundings. Given how he can hear the humming behind him and further, it's clear that he's most likely sitting in the middle of a room; and because of the echo of his footsteps, he can tell the room is empty at best. There isn't anything he can smell; the air feels fresh and clean, only when Loki comes too close he can smell his scent, something akin to ozone and leather, with a hint of something minty.
"I can tell you'll be fun to keep around...but I do hope you'll be in the mood to play sometime soon. There's only so much fun you can have while chained to a chair."
"You are implying there's any fun I can have while my limbs cramp from the lack of movement?"
"Perhaps I'll still get more out of it than you." He's a little startled when he feels Loki's hand quickly running across his shoulders. 'You should just accept I do have a clear advantage over you."
"Right now you do."
"I always do."
"Then how about you unchain me and we see in how much of a disadvantage you are?" He wills himself to sound cool and in control, even if what he truly wants to do is give the chains another go and finally break them. "Your alien magic is not a proper indicator. If you know as much as you seem to know about me then you'd know I'm more physical."
Loki doesn't comment on his words and instead continues to walk around the room, rounding him until his steps fall quiet by the time he's standing in front of him. There's a long moment of silence before Loki starts walking towards him and doesn't stop at any point. He swallows hard as Loki is impossibly close, and he visibly stiffens when Loki comes even closer by straddling his left thigh. He feels heavy on his leg, but the weight is the least of his worries. The closeness is an intimidating factor; and the fact that Loki doesn't stop until his chest is pressed to his, so close that he can feel his breath on his cheek only accomplishes to aggravate him. "Is this physical enough for you?"
The hand that runs down the side of his face is cold and rough, in no way affectionate as the gesture would indicate, but only mocking him in his inability to push away the unwanted touch. "Get away from me," he utters before he can think his words through a little better.
"I'll have you know this is the kind of physical I prefer," Loki whispers in his ear. His hand, which had made a halt by his shoulder, now continues to tread lower, very shamelessly feeling his tight and hard worked muscles. "I can appreciate the body of a warrior. It was clearly in my bad judgement to leave you with so many layers when I'm sure you're just as pleasing to the eye." Remaining calm is beginning to turn into an impossible task, especially with Loki baiting him with the right words, belittling him. "Although seeing you at my disposal and so defenseless is quite arousing."
It isn't as if he hadn't considered this outcome before, especially after Loki had so boldly invaded his personal space, but the blatant admission made his blood run cold. It wasn't unheard of, and he wasn't entirely unfamiliar with it. He had been in plenty of missions, some easy successful and some not so easy successful, and in such he'd found himself in similar precarious situations. "I'm not your plaything," he grits out, not wanting to let Loki believe he has the upper hand by saying such statements.
But all he does is laugh. "Yes, you are. Unless you decide to cooperate, you'll remain my plaything. For me to use as I desire." Loki rubs his bottom to his thigh in a slow and short back and forth motion; it's meant to anger him, to bait him to get a reaction. It's something Loki won't ever get out of him. "Hmm…" Loki hums as the motion is emphasized by a stronger press of his hips to his thigh, leaving clear that his need for more is starting to increase. Loki's hand moves back up to hold onto his shoulder and he can already predict from the strong grip that his shoulder will be used for leverage for Loki to continue using his body. It's less invasive than it ought to be, but it doesn't make him feel any less violated. Loki's smell is intoxicating and his breathing is unbearably warm, that's without thinking of how he's desecrating his leg for his own sick pleasures. "I had also come to wonder what your metal arm would feel like. Your hand. Your fingers. Around me. Inside me." It's an image he'd rather not have but the way the words are so sensually delivered in his ear actually manage to stir something in his lower region. After all, he isn't devoid of human base instincts, although he shouldn't be swayed by Loki's unorthodox proceedings. The bottom line is that Loki needs him for something other than sexual gratification, and his first goal would be to figure out why.
Why Loki needs him so badly that he's willing to go through the whole 'breaking him' process until he decides to cooperate. Well, 'cooperate'. Because he is not going to change his mind, not even if Loki's game lasts years.
But then Loki stops moving, and once again presses his body closer to his. The feeling of Loki's erection pressed to his stomach makes him grow uneasy, wondering why Loki thought of this as the right moment to stop. "You really aren't going to give in any moment yet, are you." He places a soft kiss right below his ear. "But is your body?" His hand moves lower than before, shamelessly reaching for the front of his pants. "I'm impressed." It takes all of his willpower to not react at all when he detects that tiny note of disappointment in Loki's voice. "I must work harder then."
For a moment he thought this would be it, that Loki would get up and come back another time with a more consistent game plan (that would still fail as much), but Loki stays where he is. And so does his hand. He tenses again when his hand touches him as he pleases, pressing hard and then soft, teasingly, slowly, while he resumes rocking his groin to his thigh. It's going to work for Loki eventually, and he knows it. He also knows that Loki is going to wait until he's hard and uncomfortable, and he certainly dreads what would happen after that. How Loki would proceed then.
"This would work much faster if I got these off." And that is something he really doesn't want. "If you could feel my skin against yours." He places another mocking kiss to his neck, not bothering to silence a pleased groan. "And you know I could easily do that, with some magic...Now I'm just wondering why I'm not doing just that." It's a threat, he can tell through the breathy whisper, and yes, this is what he was trained to do, to show no fear under any circumstance. "I love the way your pulse is speeding up. Fear, isn't it?" He takes a long deep breath to try to keep his body calm, not bothering anymore to pretend he actually is calm. Loki can easily see through it, especially since the circumstances do favor him and only favor him even more with each passing second. "Soon it'll be arousal, don't worry."
His hand stops teasing him through his now uncomfortably restraining pants and for a moment he feels relieved, especially when Loki's hand starts sliding up, hopefully aiming for a safer spot like his chest or shoulders. Or even better, off his person, but he knows that's wishful thinking. And when Loki's hand moves lower again, this time to start undoing his belt he knows that he was a fool for thinking this was finally over. Loki is not stopping yet, not when he has managed to break one of his flanks, one he has no control over. And perhaps he has to hand it to Loki for using this method to deal with him, rather than to fight him like most normally did. Loki saw his weak spot, saw beyond the killing machine he was turned into and reached for his humanity and his even weaker human instincts.
Yes, weak human instincts that dare react in a positive way when Loki's cold fingers wrap around his erection.
He presses his lips tighter together to stop any sound from coming, although he knows it's useless given how Loki is most likely inspecting him from up-close, and clearly doesn't miss the effect his touch had on him. "You are awfully quiet now, and it's not because I've put your mouth into good use." Loki's other hand moves to grip his chin and as a reflex he pulls on his restraints, but to no avail. "But that'll be for later. I don't want all the fun right now."
Loki gets up, still not letting go of his chin, but the motion does make relief wash over him. Not because he dreads what comes next, but because now he'll have time to be ready for whatever Loki tries the next time, now that he knows how low Loki is willing to go. Both literally and figuratively.
"Hopefully you'll be more cooperative next time." Loki pulls down his blindfold and he winces from the extremely white lights, and it doesn't help that the room is white as well. It takes him a few attempts to finally keep his eyes open for a couple of seconds at a time, catching a glimpse of Loki's smug expression each time. At last he finally lets go of his chin, allowing him to look down to shield his eyes from the direct light, but his stomach tightens when notices the distinctive white spots and smears contrasting with the black fabric of his pants. "See you soon, soldier."