Chapter 9
~*Trip to Malibu*~
Loki had no idea why he was going there. He skipped the usual excuse question of where he was going, because he couldn't really pull the card of just heading down the road to clear his head. He had to experience the problem of being a too good lie detector for such things to work. The good old times when he could lie to himself were far gone.
He had some business in Santa Monica, and his hands caught up on him sooner than his ego could yell Stop! His subconscious desperately craved some relief, and the need grew too long and became too urgent. He became too itchy, it was a miracle that he could light that corpse his hands were shaking so much – even now as his knuckles turned white from the force of his grip on the steering wheel.
"Finally a clever decision," sounded the voice of his hallucination from the back seat.
Horny-Tony (Loki decided to call him this way because the bastard-who-is-just-the-creation-of-my-fever was too long even in his head and was just irritating him. Painfully, the name was more accurate than Loki felt comfortable to admit) this time, for some reason, he took the back seat and was lounging there like a cat making faces, singing out loud every time Loki tried to drown his voice out by turning up the volume of the radio and trying his nails on the carpet and the door handle.
"I started to grow worried about your mental well being," Tony went on and finally sat up.
Loki deliberately avoided glancing into the rear-view so that he wouldn't have to acknowledge the bastard.
Worried, my ass. You're driving me crazy in the first place! Loki growled silently, clutching the wheel even harder.
Loki needed to put out the fire devouring him from the inside. The only problem was that the only way to ease his torture was to bring even more. His pride didn't take it well that he had to offer up himself on a silver plate now and then, but he tried to soothe his psyche telling himself that it would be better. It would get better.
That was why the otherwise 35 minutes minimum drive on the coast only lasted something like twenty minutes at the speed he was driving before he turned off the engine on the driveway of his destination.
At least getting closer to the real Tony Stark made the other disappear. The universe obviously couldn't take two of them in the same place and time without collapsing in on itself.
"Fuck you, Stark" Loki growled as he slammed his door shut.
No matter how much he hated that monster in human disguise, he had to give him credit for his taste. The mansion stood at the top of a cliff, with a breathtaking panorama on the ocean, Loki had no doubt. On top of everything it was huge, all sleek curves, moderate and somehow metallic colours, but it didn't make the whole concept cold or too futuristic. He already liked it more than the mansion he grew up in. Not that this one wasn't ostentatious but it had taste. And maybe despite all the boiling hatred that sizzled his brain when he thought about Stark, Loki still liked the owner of this mansion better than Odin and his craze for gold.
Loki walked up to the front door. He was quite sure at least two cameras zoomed in on him, but he couldn't care less at this moment. He felt in his bones – quite literally – that he didn't come here in vain. Stark was here. Now he just had to make up a good enough excuse about why exactly he was here that didn't include the truth.
He stopped in front of the door and squared his shoulders to knock. He honestly expected the door to open up with a creek before his knuckles made contact with it.
To his surprise a butler stood there – his attire perfect, elegant and immaculate, as if he had been just pulled out of the previous century. The butler levelled Loki with a cool, steady gaze then opened the door wider and stepped to the side to let him in.
"Good evening, Mr. Laufeyson," the butler greeted him. British. What was with Tony and British people? And he hadn't used this name ever since he got seriously into hunting… whatever. "I will announce your presence to Mr. Stark immediately. Please, come in."
Loki's grip tightened on the handle of his gun hidden deep in his pocket. There was no guarantee Tony wouldn't try something funny – especially with a hunter dropping by for a surprise visit – in case he hadn't got over Loki's constant attempts at shooting or exorcising him. So, you know. Better safe than sorry.
He stepped in cautiously, senses running on high alert as if he hadn't entered a well lit and rather very friendly hall with a huge window on the side of the living room – could he call it living room when there weren't too many inner walls? – with the suspected beautiful panorama of the twilight sky stretching over the ocean.
The residing demon arrived soon too.
"I smell food~"
Okay that wasn't exactly what Loki had expected. Tony Stark without his usual sass of a greeting? Wow. And he was just being neglected. He wasn't exactly used to that either.
"Exactly, sir," the butler deadpanned turning in the direction of his emerging master. "I thought it was high time you acted like a human being. The blue moon is just about to rise, sir."
A sassy butler, huh?
"You just keep on bothering me with this," Tony finally crawled the last steps of stairs and emerged from his lair, but what a different sight he was from the usual! Loki actually couldn't imagine him any other way but in a suit or naked. It seemed like at home he was more of a jeans and smudgy tank top type of guy.
"You know the saying, sir: 'when in Rome, do as the Romans –"
"Thanks for the unnecessary witty reminder, Jarvis," Tony stretched with a huge yawn.
"Furthermore, I would like to point out, sir, that the body you're currently residing in needs proper nutrition on a regular basis if you still intend to keep it in good shape for a while."
"Now, it's not fair to act on a man's vanity… Oh, hey, Silvertongue! What do I owe the pleasure to?"
Loki glanced around suspiciously for the last time while talking and shot an unreadable look at Tony.
"Just dropped by to see how much paint I'll need for a devil's trap around your lair."
A glance at the butler, just to check how surprised he's or how quick Loki's going to be thrown out, and to Loki's greatest surprise and maybe disappointment Jarvis didn't look stricken at all. On the other hand for Tony it took a bit longer than usual to project the wit and Loki would swear he heard the gears turning in Tony's head.
When his mind finally formed some coherent thoughts Tony frowned slightly back at Loki.
"You know I should warn you that it wouldn't keep me trapped long enough to be worth the effort," he said and stretched like a cat, "but since you never really listen to me," Tony let out a theatrical sigh, "it'd take a lot of energy to draw such a big circle, so why don't you join for dinner? Jarvis…?"
It wasn't either what Loki had expected. But anyway his expectations –the few he had – were blown the moment he set foot in this mansion. As soon as Tony stepped closer and grabbed him by the elbow to drag Loki somewhere his fever recoiled and reached a bearable level.
Loki felt annoyed with his anatomy.
They ended up in the bathroom, Tony pressed up to Loki's back effectively trapping him against the sink with his arms around the hunter.
"What the hell are you doing?" Loki hissed and shot a glare at the demon through the mirror.
Tony hummed softly and reaching out opened the faucet then the very same hand disappeared in Loki's pocket. The one he kept his gun hidden in. With the speed of a striking cobra Loki grabbed Tony's wrist through the fabric and squeezed it hard to make sure he didn't lose his weapon.
"Ouch."
The bastard had the decency to say 'ouch'! Loki was helpless for a moment and didn't know what to do. Should he be surprised or glare at Stark in a condescending way that screamed 'don't fuck with me!' – but Tony just pressed his cheek between Loki's shoulder blades and kept his hold on his gun.
"I'm too tired to play with you Princess," Tony murmured, a small twist of his hand and the weight of the gun left Loki's pocket. "There's a no-gun policy at the dinner table," Tony went on ignoring Loki's growl, "and you should wash your hands. My housekeeper smells gunpowder from a mile and I really plan on getting a bite tonight."
Loki just gaped at the reflection of the mop of hair peaking out over his shoulder. Then when Tony finally lifted himself on his toes to rest his chin on Loki's shoulder he kept on glaring at the demon. Clearly incredulous.
"What?" Tony deadpanned.
"You keep to the rules of your housekeeper?"
"Once you meet her, you'll understand why I do."
Deal done, Tony pressed closer, washing his own oil-stained and slightly burnt hands – the gun mysteriously disappeared– and then as if nothing was more natural, Tony turned on his heels and left the bathroom, leaving a dumbfounded Loki behind.
Tony wasn't telling tales about his housekeeper. Senora Paula was the most terrifying creature Loki had ever come across – If not for anything else than for being the only one who could say no to Tony Stark and reduce the cocky demon into the equivalent of a sulking child. She was a short but round lady in her late fifty and even though Loki had more than a foot over her Paula armed with her spatula was an enemy he never ever wanted to cross.
She introduced herself to Loki by snatching the bottle of scotch out of Tony's hand.
"¡Dios mío!" she cried and stumped away to the trolley with the dinner. Loki didn't even bother to hide his grin at Tony's flinch, "It's no way to start dinner, Mr. Stark! You are late for dinner, dinner cools out and your first move is to drink? Why do I cook for you?"
Tony grumbled under his breath and with a sigh – he sighed surprisingly often tonight – threw himself into a seat and waved for Loki to do the same.
"Because you love me?" Tony tried to save what was left of his hopefully peaceful dinner caught up in the crossfire of Paula's glare and Loki's malevolent smile.
"Hell I don't even know why!" she threw her hands up in the air – without the plates now – and she stood over Tony with her hands on her hips, "I cook to you every day, Mr. Stark and it's a milagro if you eat at all! It is also not nice to announce your guest the last minute! Can't you have normal friends? And no shooting in the diner! The last time…"
Tony groaned and sunk deep into his seat just to sit up straight the next second as Paula flicked the kitchen-cloth and its tip hit the bare expanse of his shoulder with a sharp nip.
This time Paula poured her dismay in Spanish at her employer and Tony snapped back at her in the same tongue. Until he soon realized he was getting nowhere and rather chose to try flattery.
Loki heard the words 'demonio' and 'diablo' being thrown around and wondered what was the exact context. Paula was talking so fast and not even a minute later they tried to talk over each other with Tony so Loki's deficient Spanish knowledge wasn't enough to find out whether Paula was simply cursing at Tony or if she knew who she was serving.
As dinner finally got started and went on – with the occasional interruptions of Paula's grumbling and Tony's attempts at soothing her – "I have to get back onto her good sides," Tony said, "She's cooking for me and I'm not really good with poisons." which only made Loki laugh harder – it turned out that both the butler and the housekeeper knew that Tony was a demon. It was only Happy left in the dark.
"It's better for him, you know," Tony explained when he was more collected with some food in his belly (after two days on smoothie diet), "He has enough troubles driving me around, guess what he'd say if he learnt I'm a demon! His world would crack… or maybe not. Maybe he'd just wonder if I finally had my mental breakdown."
So these people – humans! – were serving him by their own free will?! That was too hard to comprehend. But he sensed the joke when Tony's explanation included whips and dungeons and torture when either Jarvis or Paula was doing something he didn't like. It was enough to take a look at the interactions between them. Both employees talked back – without any anxiety or trembling – to the Merchant of Death when it would only take a flip of the hand for him to blast their heads in a second.
Jarvis had been a fundamental part of Tony's life, he played a major role in bringing the young Stark up, so he was made aware from the very beginning that Tony was possessed. Even if he wasn't told face to face, the old man – as Tony referred to Howard Stark – spoke and cried enough in his drunken state for the whole mansion to know. Paula had been employed after Howard died and she had never given up so far on giving Tony some basic manners.
Loki's head pounded with the amount of questions that rose after each piece of information he received. How can there be people who ignore such facts as working for a demon?
They slowly moved to other random topics – Loki carefully avoided any questions and answers concerning his mental and physical well-being – and Tony's foot sneaked over to rub along Loki's calf. Loki sent a glare at Tony – now over his wine glass, but the feeling was actually very nice. Not that he'd ever admit it but the physical contact soothed his inner turmoil and he felt the fever drop. When Tony's foot finally settled on top of Loki's knee and hooked the other just behind Loki's ankle the throbbing headache ceased enough so that Loki could concentrate on Tony's newest investment in green energy.
"Is it some kind of fudge?"Loki raised his eyebrow in question. "Do your generators create some toxin meanwhile to poison the environment?"
"They are called ARC reactors, and they guarantee the purest way of creating energy…" Tony sighed dramatically and waved away, "You just don't get the whole point of being a demon – and unfortunately you're not alone… lots of other kins don't either."
"Which point is…?"
"We – or at least I in particular don't want to destroy Earth. Or humanity in this matter. How would I have fun without all your cute petty cruelty?" Tony knocked back his third Scotch and refilled his tumbler. "Without you who would I sell my weapons to? I'd go crazy with all the new designs bursting my head.
"It's only you, humans, who don't care for your own future planet as long as you die first, and I'm quite sure a good part of you hopes that some Apocalypse will arrive before Earth finally gives in. If anything, I want to preserve this dear planet."
"Then what about The Apocalypse? The classical version with fire and agony and grinding teeth. The one the angels want to bring forth so much."
What? Loki knew about angels. The fact that he hadn't come across one and that he spent most of his time between cases suffering from high fever in his bed didn't mean he didn't read up on what's happening around the world.
Tony seemed to know as much too.
"Weren't you listening to the part where you can't go for a few months without another "the end is nigh" theory surfacing? We don't want to create another Hell. Damn, we go through enough trouble crawling out of that dam. I don't want to go back. So, you know, give and take. I know it's not a really common thing among humans, but some of us, the smart ones are familiar with this term."
"Hence you now and then command me to kill some demons."
"And not just you, Princess. I sometimes leave hints for other hunters too. Now and then I work as a supernatural-consultant. Why do you think I still have such a nice house without a devil's trap around it?"
For Loki it only seemed an appealing idea for a few fleeting seconds. Of course with the technology at his hands and with the humans working for him – he still tried to process this information – they would let him out in a matter of hours. So it would be futile until he knew exactly how to kill Tony. Trouble. Always trouble…
"Penny for your thoughts?" Tony swirled the amber liquid around in his tumbler with an amused glint in his eyes.
"The Apocalypse is happening now – " Loki started cautiously. Tony just quirked an eyebrow to inquire for more. "Why aren't you there? Stopping it if it's something you so much don't want to let happen? Afraid it'd put you on the side of angels?"
Tony answered with a snort.
"Hell, no. The angels want the Apocalypse to happen. Lucifer is an angel, just to remind you, oh, high-and-mighty specialist of mythology and lore. Along with some delusional demons. So it'd rather put me on the side of the hunters, I suppose."
"From which you'd also distance yourself I presume."
"Correct. I'm a futurist. I'm on the side of the future."
"Then what? You're so afraid of the angels that you'd rather risk the end of the world than to contribute to the efforts of the Winchesters to stop it? I thought you liked them, based on how much you wanted to hook me up with one of them the last time."
"Don't bother your pretty head over it; angels won't help you get rid of me."
Loki gritted his teeth upon that self-assured smirk. His own eyes ablaze, knuckles white around his glass – even though his inner heat had subsided to endurable he still had issues with his temper at times like this. The thought barely surfaced in his mind and Tony had to shoot it down immediately!
"Angels are douchebags. All of them. And note it in your journal: you'd find more empathy in demons than in those winged-monsters. They are programmed to follow orders, and among the first orders they got is to smite every demon in their way. They've never been one to ask questions. That would imply the need of actual thinking. And unfortunately for you – you're radiating demon-whore from miles away."
"You've planned it out, haven't you?" Loki asked, the edge of his mouth twitching irritated.
"Sort of. Yes. So do yourself a favour, and stay 'round New York for a while. You'll have enough job to get done, don't worry, and you'll hopefully avoid facing any angel."
"If the next lecture is going to be about how the demons are the good guys, I'm skipping."
Tony just laughed and rubbed his foot along Loki's shin.
"Having troubles with sleep, Silvertongue?" he hummed thoughtfully.
"What makes you think so?" Loki quirked his eyebrow in his usual manner.
"Takes one to know one."
Loki probably got too used to the dark circles and the haunted look in his eyes.
"Maybe I have too much energy at nights," he smirked suggestively.
He needed to put off the fire so that he could go a few days without a fever and the hallucinated replica of this abomination.
"Should I be concerned about your eagerness?" Tony answered with the mirrored version of Loki's smirk. "You're not planning again to stab me in my sleep with another blood-bathed horn or something?"
Loki flinched a bit at the memory. That didn't end very well on his part – but again which one of his attempts did?
"You'll never know. Maybe I came up with something better this time."
They locked eyes for a while, both trying to read the other's real intentions, Tony probably wondered if Loki really wanted to try something funny – again – then he pulled back to his own chair and stretched after downing the last drops of his scotch.
"Wanna sleep here or do you have a lonely motel room somewhere in LA you must go back to?" Tony called back for him standing in the doorway. He leant with one hand against the doorframe and cocked his hip out on a way that displayed the delicious curve of his ass perfectly along with the arch of his spine, eyes burning dark and hooded lazily.
Loki had never tried undressing someone while stumbling on the stairs, but even despite Tony's previous comments about being tired and that he just wanted to get some sleep they ended up in bed quite quickly.
"Fuck, I'm so lucky you have no claws yet," Tony panted into the crook of Loki's neck and moved his lips to nibble at the tendons in his throat. "Damn, wouldn't you enjoy that? Even more than me fucking the heat out of you, hmm?"
Loki moaned. Yes – yes claws would be great. He arched his hips and just in case Tony didn't know exactly how much he could make good use of such body parts he pressed his blunt fingernails into Tony's back, dragging them along from the ribs' base next to the spine down to the demon's sides.
He would rip the flesh off the bones, would dip his hands in the bloody mass and crack ribs and break the vertebrae apart and tear off the spinal cord. Dip his fingers into the lungs, reach past them and squeeze that rotten heart in his bloody hands…He would enjoy it so much. And he would watch with a sadistic smile on his face as Tony would fall apart, tasting the blood on his lips, sucking it off his tongue –
Eyes burning red like fire balls, like blazing rubies as the shadow of lust darkens them – a flash of white, a snarl of teeth above him –
That's it – that's it – There! Just a little harder –
As he came down it was now liquid fire that washed the shores of his conscience. But momentarily he couldn't care less. He reached the point in Tony's arms that the flames lapping at him and tasting him felt almost cool if he didn't pay them enough mind.
There were other things too he was happy about but he was too lost in the post-coital bliss to recognize. Like the lazy flex of biceps muscles now and then under his head or the deep breathing fanning the sweaty hair on the back of his neck. Tony spooned him from behind, his chest pressed to Loki's back, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, ankles tangled. They didn't need the sheets. Loki was very grateful for the cool right now.
It seemed their body temperatures were balanced. Loki didn't feel feverish anymore. Sweat finally wasn't beading but cooling on his skin, while at his back Tony was radiating warm again.
Tony drew different things on Loki's hip thigh and side. He wondered if he were ticklish would he be able to squirm away. But right now his mind bristled a bit as he recognized a few symbols on the canvas of his skin and it just wasn't nice that after they just had sex Tony's mind was already drawing up equations and he was writing them onto Loki. As if he was just a tablet or something.
As if on cue feeling the bristling tension growing in his shoulders Tony snuggled up to Loki's back, pressing a small kiss between his shoulder blades. Tony chuckled as Loki huffed irritated and made an attempt at shrugging the demon off.
It didn't work of course and Tony's fingers didn't stop in their ministrations either. They were a constant caress, perfectly fine for Loki to drift off to sleep under them.
Sleeping in a demon's house – in a demon's bed, moreover in his arms –
He really had to look for another job soon.
