Story written for the Italian pOrnfest7 with the prompt 'Loki/Tony Stark, in the dark'.

Also, I'm not a native speaker and this story is un-betaed, so please, forgive me for the mistakes. I hope there aren't too many of them.


Fading into the darkness

In the dark, the only light is the one which belongs to his Arc Reactor and Tony feels exposed like he were a target.

In the dark, Loki is a shadow just a little lighter than night, is a glimpse that Tony's eyes can barely catch, is a ghost of a kiss on his ear, the tongue that licks his earlobe, making him shiver and disappearing one second later, before Tony can catch him and throw him onto the bed were he would fuck him until he couldn't think anymore and until all Tony Stark is would fade in the purest of pleasures.

In the dark, he doesn't have to see his guilty reflection when he stares into his enemy's eyes, moaning and panting at every thrust, for every touch of Loki's deft fingers, for every malicious smile Loki gives him, a smile which shows him how simply beautiful are his mistakes. But he is always aware of who Loki is: Loki is a killer, is a king wanna be, is a crazy god with dangerous powers. And this thought has always a hint of fear with it, which emphasizes his arousal, which makes him wonder if the hand that is caressing his body, with the fingers sliding almost casually on his Arc Reactor, will abruptly rip it from his chest, just so that Loki could see him die with the same smile he has when he sees his orgasms – because Loki can see perfectly in the dark, and something makes Tony think that, for the god, this dark isn't anything more than a reassuring sunset, in comparison to the darkness that tainted his green eyes with a crazy shade.

In the dark, he doesn't have to think and can lose himself in the sensations he's feeling, without remembering how all of that began – Loki who had waited for him still covered in blood after the last fight where the two of them had bantered and flirted with offenses and provocations, while the other Avengers had been the third wheel; Loki who had tossed him onto the bed while their mouths searched each other and they kissed and bit and drew blood, and "What are you doing?" "Do you really have to ask it, Stark?" "Yep, I'm calling Bruce right now" "No, you will not, because you want it too", and Loki that made their clothes vanish, before straddling him and lowering on Tony's full erection in one go, and a moment of crazy, burning pleasure, while his hurting body was arching, trying to get more, even more pleasure, without thinking of how wrong it was...

In the dark, his moans are louder and truer, and it's like they're trying to tear the darkness apart with the burning pleasure that is making his nerves sing, while Loki's tongue slides down to his chest and his abs, drawing runes on his skin until it reaches his erection. And he wants to grab at Loki's hair and to press him against his crotch to have more, to feel more, to feel Loki's mouth on his cock and to come into his throat, but the invisible ropes that are binding his wrists behind his back are making him helpless, so Tony can only moan and writhe, and then his pleasure suddenly grows and he screams when the god finally grants him his silent wish.

In the dark, it's too difficult to reach the bottle of scotch and alcohol is the last of his thoughts, when Loki withdraws in the exact moment when he was about to climax. But he doesn't protest because in the same moment his arms return free, so he can grab at the god's hair and pull him into a kiss and then he searches for Loki's erection with his free hand and begins to stroke it, shivering for the sound that the god can't bite back – a whimper which is almost a moan, a mix of surprise and pleasure that Tony devours with the same urgency he shows while he's devouring his mouth.

In the dark, the questions that tortures his mind disappear, replaced by Loki who allows to be pushed towards the bed, and then there's the god's hand tracing a line with delicate fingers from his neck to the Reactor, to his stomach, until it's on his cock, grabbing it for only one instant with a murmur of foreign words. A smile brushes against his neck just before becoming a hard bite, and Tony moans again, in pain and pleasure, and he knows he'll have the sign of his bite for days – and Loki knows it too, and Tony would swear that this is just another mischief, another way for the god to have fun when he'll have to bear his friends' gazes and questions about the bite; but there's a part of him, too stupid and foolish to trust it, that likes to think of the bite as a proof of possession. He doesn't ask himself what he is doing, he doesn't ask himself anything while he keeps on fucking an enemy, with his cock already lubricated by one of Loki's spells and his hand keeping the god's wrists trapped above his head – and it's silly even hoping to represent a fight for the god's strength or to be able to keep him down if Loki didn't want it too, but for now, Loki is pretending to let him be in control and it's fine like this.

In the dark, they are two broken souls devouring each other and the loneliness that has always been with him it's so far away Tony can barely feel it, now that there's Loki savoring his moans and whimpers, savoring each one of the sounds he is making, each one of the silent prayers that don't pass his lips – because Tony Stark is too proud and doesn't beg, but Loki makes him beg every night.

In the dark, he's not alone anymore, while he lets an enemy cover the void that's in his chest where his heart should be – because you can't fill that void, no one can, not even Pepper, not even his friends, and Tony has finally understood it and he just needs not to see it and not too feel it, he just needs to forget that void pressing his body against Loki's, hiding his face against the god's neck and biting him until he tastes blood, thrusting into him without pause, trying to hurt him and to be hurt and to feel pleasure and to feel him melting in pleasure under his own body.

In the dark, he can only imagine the arousal in the god's expression, but he can hear him breathing too fast and less controlled than usual, he can feel his whole body shivering and pressing against him and there's still the surprising sensation of Loki's wrists in his hand, which are tensing and trembling but continue to allow him to keep them trapped. And then he lets them free and there are Loki's nails raking red paths on his back, and they are so delicate in comparison to what the god could do to him, and "Touch me, Stark", and it's a order, not a prayer, because Loki orders, he suggests, he provokes, he defies and he mocks, but he doesn't beg. And Tony obeys without even thinking, because he wants more. He wants to hear him, he wants to feel him, he wants to possess him, to take his control away.

In the dark, he hates him, he desires him and he wants Loki to be his.

In the dark, the time loses its meaning. Some minutes pass, they are ten or twenty or a hundred when he feels Loki's orgasm wetting his hand. His climax comes soon after, with a wordless growl, while the pleasure explodes in his nerves and erases the fire that Loki's fingers and mouth had arose under his skin.

In the dark, Loki allows Tony to spoon him, pretending to be too tired and satisfied to push him away; and Tony can pretend that the slender body in his arms belongs to one of his faceless lovers and not to the enemy that during the day laughs while he tries to kill him and the other Avengers – but no, he doesn't try to kill him, not anymore, just the others.

And Tony knows that they are both broken, that sooner or later they'll destroy each other and maybe they've already begun to, with these moments stolen from the night that are the testament of how wrong they are; and maybe they both know it and neither of them cares. But in the dark, that soft, comforting black that turns off every thought and tastes like sex and like Loki, Tony Stark can lose himself and lets his conscience fading away.