Title: Wooing The Trickster.
Author: Teofse
Rating: G
Pairing: Loki/Tony
Genre: Slash. Romance.
Word Count: 5552
Warnings: None. Unbetaed.
Disclaimer: Don't own these characters. No money is being made out of this work.
Summary: "Get ready to be swept off your feet, Loki of Asgard, because my fucking heart has finally found its match, and I'm afraid it's you."
Wooing The Trickster. Chapter 10.
Despite Pepper's well-meaning insistence to the contrary, Tony didn't think he'd ever followed his heart in anything at all before he'd fallen head over heels for the most oblivious, illogically prickly and irritatingly retiring sexy god he'd ever met.
He'd followed his brains, his pride, his dick, his almost daredevil sense of adventure and his not-always-quite-right moral compass to wherever they all lead him at different points in his life, and the miracle that he'd ended up being the richest, smartest and most attractive Avenger of the lot had more to do with the fact that he'd been lucky enough to stumble into the lives of people who'd been worth their weight in gold than with his presumed possession of a goody-goody heart. He'd always been too pragmatic and too selfish to be anything other than bad with a large tendency to worse in the moral-fiber department, and that meant that following Pepper's rather simple romantic advice was a lot harder than it looked.
He dithered for another twenty four hours in which he'd locked himself in his lab and stared obsessively at the new suit, trying to see it through Loki's wary eyes without success, and ended up so messed up in the head about how to show it and what to say when he finally did it, that he'd thrown his favorite screwdriver at the bloody thing in a fit of sleep-deprived frustration at three thirty in the morning before hightailing it out of the room in order to avoid throwing something more damaging at it.
The lift took him efficiently upwards, depositing him in the darkened foyer of the Avengers' common floor and he walked towards the fully stoked bar with the accuracy of a man who'd trod the same path equally blindly a million times before. He turned his back instinctively on his least favorite window and walked right through his now second favorite floor spot in the entire tower, only topped by the small square patch where Loki had sock-slid for the very first time
"I've got it bad. I've got it real bad, man. I can't work. I can't sleep. I can't even get smashed without having that bloody sexy reindeer haunt my thoughts even though he's been giving me the widest berth, ever, since he came back from home." He grumbled under his breath, serving himself a generous amount of Scotch and draining the tumbler in a single go before lowering it once again with the intention of serving himself another.
"If you intend to keep drinking while spouting further mushy nonsense about me in increasingly drunken monologue, I'd rather you abandon that particular course of action right now, if it's all the same to you, Anthony."
His crush's gorgeous voice, coming so abruptly from somewhere near the cluster of couches closest to the unlit fireplace shocked him so much that he'd ended up spilling his precious alcohol all over the surface of the bar when he jumped -manfully, mind you- and failed to squeal like a little girl frightened of the dark, no matter what sort of irrefutable 'proof' to the contrary J.A.R.V.I.S was probably busy encrypting right now.
"Jesus. Fucking. Christ! You've got to give us, mortals, some sort of warning that you're haunting a room before you pull an all-out ghostly speech around us in the middle of the night, bluebell. We have fragile constitutions, you know?" He muttered, grabbing the nearest rag to mop the spilled alcohol distractedly while peering intently into the dark, trying in vain to get his Loki-deprived eyes their first post-Asgard trip glimpse of the most elusive gorgeousness of them all.
"Lights, J.A.R.V.I.S, lights. I'm pretty sure you can do whatever nefarious thing you're currently doing and increase visibility around here at the same time."
"Sorry, Sir. I assumed you'd prefer to have your usual excuse of 'Gosh! It's really, really, dark in here' handy when you pulled your thirty sixth most successful seduction move, ever, on poor, unsuspecting Mr. Odinson and fake-fell into his lap."
Now Tony's shock was so immense that the wet rag he was holding dropped from his startled fingers all the way to the floor with a loud plop. His eyes widened impossibly and he jerked his head upwards and to the left, towards where he knew the closest camera in the room was located, arching a peeved eyebrow at his uncharacteristically treacherous A.I in his most emphatic 'WTF?' expression.
"Giving away that sort of signature Stark move could be considered treason in many countries, Jeeves." He grumbled distractedly even as he tried to keep count of the subtle flashes of color that kept coming from the side of the camera he has so intently staring at. Three rapid reds quickly followed by two long greens was code for 'acted like a dick because Pepper is in distress and I was trying to make her laugh, Sir.' Only Pepper wasn't here and there was no reason at all for J.A.R.V.I.S to implement protocol 567, unless...
Shit. Shit. Shit. He'd told his personal butler-cum-companion-cum-best-friend/confidante to follow the parameters he'd set out for Pepper while they were still together for everything regarding Loki until he had enough data about sexy-long-leg's likes, dislikes and emotional triggers to input a new protocol into his system. That meant that Loki was distressed and J.A.R.V.I.S had been trying to make him laugh with that subversive little stunt which, judging by the glaring lack of godly mirth in the air, had failed spectacularly to achieve the intended goal.
"Lights, Jeeves, lights. At 100%. Right now!" He managed to bark through the heavy knot that was trying to take over his throat. His A.I brought the room to full illumination so abruptly that his poor eyes began to ache almost immediately, but a lifetime of dealing with both self-inflicted hangovers and the merciless tough-love approach to helping him trough them that J.A.R.V.I.S so often embraced, meant he was able to focus on his surroundings a lot faster than Loki.
Tony was halfway across the room by the time Frosty, the horned blueberry, managed to reduce the instinctive blinking of his red-rimmed green eyes to one third. And he'd already sat and was staring at the hastily smudged tear-tracks that his crush must have been in the process of drying when the lights came up with something so close to panic that he wished he'd thought of cleaning up his spilled scotch with his own tongue instead of mopping it off with that rag.
"I hope the idea of me falling accidentally into your lap isn't what drove you to tears, peaches, because that'll throw all kinds of nasty spanners into the plans I've made for the next 50 years or so."
Loki flinched slightly backwards, plastered himself against the cushions on the other side of the couch and lowered his gaze to stare self-consciously at his bare feet before whispering stiltedly:
"Let's not talk about that. Please, Anthony."
Something really cold and awfully close to heartbreak settled in the pit of his stomach upon hearing that particularly unwelcome request.
"Does that mean we're putting the conversation off for just now, or do you expect me to keep it under lock and key for good?"
Loki's miserable-looking eyes lifted then, settling over him with a kind of hopeless vulnerability that made every hair on the back of Tony's neck stand on end.
"I can no longer shield you from Heimdall. I can no longer assure us true privacy. I've been placed on a very short leash indeed when it comes to you."
The engineer's confusion increased, making it impossible for him to feel relieved just yet about the fact that Loki hadn't told him that whatever had been between them was already as dead as the Dodo as far as he was concerned.
"Heimdall is the pervy peeping Tom that operates your bridge thing, isn't he?"
Loki's attempt at laughter was a fragile, little sound that resembled a strangled gasp.
"Heimdall is Asgard's gatekeeper. The king's ultimate spy. He has eyes and ears into the personal business of every inhabitant of the nine realms except me."
"There you go, then. You can fool his sight with your mojo, but I can't. Doesn't that mean I've always been victim of his spying tendencies? The guy has been watching me all my life already, yeah? I don't see how that's a reason for you to cry buckets in the dark at bloody three thirty in the morning. It's not like I'm new to crazy paparazzi, mad stalkers and the occasional uber-creepy bodily-fluids collector."
"I have always had the ability to shield those I interact with from Heimdall's sight on a temporary basis, Anthony. He would have been able to watch your interactions with everybody else, but our encounters have been a complete blank to him since I finally realized the nature of your feelings towards me. Heimdall hasn't been privy to any of our dates so far and, since the king's locator runes can only pinpoint my position at any given time, all they've known about them in Asgard is that I was either here, in your tower, or out at the sushi restaurant."
"So your father was trying to get the scoop on us by asking his all-seeing buddy to keep an eye on me. Only things didn't work out the way he wanted because you were shielding me, too. Is that it?" Tony questioned in his most logical tone even though his gut had started churning, already bent on informing him that it had a very bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling indeed.
"He took an interest in the Avengers after Thor's first involvement with them. The allfather likes to know everybody's weaknesses, friends and enemies alike. He wasn't particularly thrilled with what he learned about you, Anthony. He believes you're self-destructive. Impulsive. Uncontrollable. Immoral... He considers you the worst kind of influence for a 'rebellious and troublesome child who is sufficiently weak-minded to have tried to conquer a blooming realm just because he mixed with the wrong crowd.'"
Tony laughed despite himself, startled by the ridiculous picture his mind had just conjured of a one-eyed Howard look-alike giving a sullen Loki the 'you're-being-a-bad-teenager' speech.
"Is that why he called you up so suddenly? To read you the riot act? I must say that was surprisingly sneaky for such a prissy-pants guy. I thought that Hogun-what's-his-name said your mum missed you something fierce and had convinced the old fart to let you visit."
Loki turned deadly pale and rushed forwards in a jerky motion that halted abruptly once he'd brought himself close enough to press trembling fingertips against Tony's shocked lips while whispering rather frantically:
"Mind your words, Anthony. I. Can. No. Longer. Shield. You. Heimdall is watching you now."
Tony's head pounded. It whirled with both frustrated confusion and awakening desire in response to the sudden contact that his usually aloof beloved was bestowing upon him. Not that the reindeer wasn't skittish enough at the moment to put the most highly-strung thoroughbred to shame, but then he'd hardly ever come this close to him of his own free will in the past, let alone bothered to touch him on the mouth while leaning masterfully over him, so... yeah. This Heimdall business was definitely suck-balls bad, but it was also good. Good in the most exciting, toe-curlingly-arousing way, ever.
"OK. The perv's watching me. How is he doing it, though? How come you can't magic me blank anymore?"
Loki's already pale face lost whatever meager color it still possessed and he jerked backwards once again until he ended up siting on his haunches in the middle of the couch. Tony's body followed him instinctively, eyeing him with growing anxiety as he took note of the unbearable dullness that had taken over those gorgeous green eyes before his god lifted a shaking right arm, forcing him to focus on the thin golden band that encircled his wrist.
"The king shackled that spell when I refused to swear never to use it in your company of my own free will. I can no longer perform it, Anthony."
Tony went cold from head to toes, looking at the deceptively innocuous, pretty little bracelet as if it were a poisonous snake rearing its head for attack. He remembered the look of horror that had crawled all over Loki's bruised features when his brother had clamped the magic-dampening manacles he'd brought down from Asgard after the New York debacle. He knew the reindeer had hated them more than being bashed by The Hulk or the muzzle that had robbed him off his voice because Loki, proud sorcerer that he was, couldn't bear to have his magical abilities hindered in any way. Messing up with his mojo was the ultimate slap in the face as far as his reindeer was concerned and Tony couldn't believe the one-eyed cyclops who'd spent two thousand years raising him hadn't realized that already.
"Why would your dad target your magic again? You haven't done anything. What the hell is wrong with the bastard? I thought he was all about second chances, trying his best to do right by you and all that cool, fatherly stuff."
Loki laughed bitterly.
"The king of Asgard is NOT my father. I've told you this many times already."
"And I thought you were being your usual stubborn self about that adoption thing, OK? I assumed you were going for a daddy-themed version of the tantrum you both have every time you tell Thor that he's not your brother."
Loki glared at him haughtily:
"My claim in that respect is not unfounded. It's irrefutable fact that I'm not of Thor's blood and we both know it."
"Sometimes brotherhood isn't a matter of blood but of choice, sweet-pea. Sometimes family just finds us and it doesn't matter at all whether we're from Earth or Asgard or fucking Frostyland."
Loki smiled faintly at his blatant bastardization of his true realm's name and Tony's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly as he came to the shocking realization that he wasn't as bad at this comforting-your-other-half thing as he thought he'd be. He could do this. He was obviously doing it already. He'd keep spouting more ridiculously outrageous nonsense until his sexy reindeer showed signs of feeling better and the awful, bruised look that currently haunted his eyes had abandoned them completely. He'd do it because Loki needed him to do it, and if that brought them even closer than they had been before the heavenly old fart decided to try his hand at breaking them apart, then all the power to them. Tony was swiftly developing a visceral dislike for eternally stupid cyclops and anything he could do to stomp on their ancient bunions until they howled with rage he'd gladly do thrice over, with bells on.
His hand settled on Loki's slender wrist, tracing the thin band of gold with horrified fascination and hating the slight heat it gave off as it rested against Loki's naturally cold skin. This blasted thing must be burning his stoic and gorgeous prince constantly, and the thought that Loki had been carrying it around for almost a week without him being any the wiser was digging a bottomless hole of sheer resentment in his wildly pounding heart.
"How come Thor hasn't said anything about this? We both know he can't keep this kind of secret to save his life."
"The allfather summoned me for a private audience while we were there. Thor was busy sparring with his friends at the time."
Tony's eyes began to prickle with something that could have been either sinking sorrow or overflowing frustration.
"And you didn't tell him what happened? Didn't it occur to you that he could have intervened on your behalf? Or that I'd have loved to be given the chance to figure out how to snap this bloody shit off your wrist?"
"There is nothing you can do. Fighting mighty gods and magic is above your considerable skills, Anthony." Loki pulled his arm away sharply, no longer willing to accept the small comfort of Tony's curious fingertips, and the inventor forced himself to take a deep breath and count to 500 before he even moved a muscle, lest he tried to grab the stubborn bastard in order to shake some sense into him while the guy was in the process of trying to preserve his precious dignity by closing himself off behind an emotional barricade that could put the Wall of China to shame.
"Let's ignore for now the fact that I once managed to defeat mighty magical you and your band of alien lizard minions, then. Thor is used to fighting gods and sorcerers, though. Why your mother, herself, has kicked that kind of ass for fun plenty of times as well. Why didn't you go to either of them? I'm sure they'd have helped you, Loki."
"Thor has never chosen my side against his father's and mother wouldn't have chosen it, either. I am alone in this, just as I've always been."
Tony wanted to hug him fiercely enough to break his bones then, but he knew such action wouldn't be seen as the comfort he wanted it to be. No. Loki would think it patronizing, a contact born of pity instead of love. And he couldn't afford that. Not right now when it was obvious that his sorcerer was a single green puff away from magicking himself into total retreat once again.
"It just doesn't make any sense for the old bastard to mess with that particular spell. It's not as if he's forcing you into the perv's view too. I mean he's already on shaky enough ground with you and he knows it. Why would he risk upsetting you this much for the dubious pleasure of hearing me whisper mushy sweet nothings in your ear?"
Loki eyed him warily, wriggling on the couch until he'd managed to sit himself back on his ass and bring his knees up between them, a physical barrier to add to the invisible one that already separated them. Then he placed his sharply defined cheek atop his bony knees and stared blindly into space, making Tony's hand just itch to breach the distance between them and card his fingers through that long and silky dark hair, loop a slightly curling lock around a pale ear, let him know that he could try to build as many walls as he wanted between them and they still wouldn't be enough to keep him away for good.
"Talk to me, bluebell. The bastard already knows he's pissed you off. What harm can putting your thoughts into words do at this point?"
Loki sighed, clearly exasperated, but his lips opened willingly enough, offering a quiet explanation.
"He knows I hate it when he looks at me. He knows his scrutiny makes me uncomfortable enough to... retreat. He's counting on my natural inclination to shy away from giving him the show my current inability to shield you could provide him with to put a stop to what he considers a 'less than desirable' association."
Tony laughed, chuffed despite himself by the fact that a mighty god was actually having the daddy fits to end all daddy fits over his 'association' with his youngest child. That pushed his bad-boy vibe to a whole new bad-ass level in the best possible way. He suddenly felt sexy, cocky and impossibly powerful. He felt one-thousand per cent James Dean material and that'd have been awesomely cool if it wasn't for the fact that Loki had been forced to pay such steep price for the compliment.
"That just means poor dear old fart's remaining eye isn't working as well as it should, otherwise he'd have already noticed that I haven't been 'less than desirable' since I left diapers behind. I'm Tony Fucking Stark, man. I'm the definition of Desirable with a capital D and every letter emblazoned in diamond encrusted gold at least five inches thick."
Loki's somber gaze lightened with reluctant amusement and he shook his head from left to right, obviously stumped.
"Your bold daring never fails to astound me, Anthony. You disrespect the allfather himself while fully aware that he's probably listening in on this very conversation, and you do it without a single flinch of fear for the consequences. Your courage is probably only matched by whatever madness prompts you to behave so recklessly."
Tony swallowed past the huge lump trying to move into his throat as he finally decided to send caution to the wind and recaptured Loki's hand, curling his work-roughened digits around the sorcerer's slightly trembling ones and holding onto them for dear life as he whispered quietly, but with feeling:
"I will place myself on the opposite side of whoever doesn't have your back, reindeer. And if that means facing off against your dad then I'll go toe to toe against him and find a way to win."
"He's not my..."
"Yeah, he is. He's doing this because he cares, even though it's a pretty shitty thing to do and he probably just added another thousand years or so to the proverbial doghouse you already had him stuffed in, but then I'm pretty sure I'd forbid my own daughter from 'cavorting' out of sight with a ruffian like me, so yeah, I get why he's gone this far even though I think it's pretty dumb of him."
"Don't defend him. He's trying to ruin this."
"He can't ruin it if you don't let him. I've got you, buttercup. I swear I've got you. This isn't only about that insane shyness of yours, is it? This is about your conviction that no one would ever pick you over him. This is about you thinking you know what the answer to your request for help will be, and being so terrified to be proven right that you can't even bear to ask."
"I've asked many times, Anthony. I've asked again and again, for centuries. I kept asking until I had no other option but to accept that the answer wouldn't change."
"You've never asked me, though. And you should have, because I. Choose. You, Loki. I will always choose you."
Loki's pale face turned bright pink and he blinked like a startled little kitten, staring right at him with incredulous, wide eyes.
"That's... not possible."
"It is, and I can prove it right now. All you've got to do is follow me down to the lab and feast your eyes on the unequivocal proof I've got waiting for you there. This is great timing, bluebell. Great timing indeed. I did this before this ugly shit-storm hit my shore and now you'll always know I mean it for real."
Loki looked at him askance, elegant eyebrows coming together in that adorable expression of complete and utter confusion that never failed to melt Tony's foolish heart.
"I'm not sure I understand." He whispered finally and that was all he needed to say before Tony leaped to his feet and pulled insistently on his hand.
"That's alright. You'll understand soon enough. Come down to the lab with me, babe. I've got something epic to show you. Something way better than sushi and mangled bunny sticks, I swear. This is even better than sock sliding, and I thought that one was awesome, so... yeah."
Loki followed him easily enough. Newborn curiosity raising it's wary head in the depths of his green eyes as he stepped off the couch and walked across the floor and into the lift with uncharacteristic docility, watching him press the button that would lead them down to the lab before he bothered to point out:
"That's the least straightforward clarification I've ever heard, and I've dealt with enough of Vanaheim's senior ambassadors to have heard plenty of those."
Tony tried his best to match his sorcerer's playful tone, aiming to keep this fragile lighthearted moment for as long as he possibly could.
"What can I say? My mind is a dark and twisted place, pumpkin. Most people can't get anything out of me unless I want to give it away, least of all the truth. I'm all about smoke and mirrors, sweet-pea. Smoke and mirrors."
"What have you done, then? What smoke and mirror trickery have you devised in my absence?
"There's no trickery here, Loki. Just the truest truth I've got, spelled out in plain sight for everyone to see, even though I haven't explained what it means to anyone at all because this is nobody's business but ours. This is my shout from the rooftops, audible to all but spoken in a language only you will fully understand because only you have to, reindeer."
"Such convoluted riddle greatly intrigues me, Anthony. I hope the object in question proves worthy of the praise you so generously heap upon it." Loki whispered, eyeing the obscured laboratory door with barely concealed trepidation.
"You have nothing to fear, bluebell." Tony vowed as he punched in the code and waited for the doors to slide apart before dragging Loki in with as much determination as his suddenly pounding heart allowed him to fake.
"It's there, on the last stand to your right: The Iron Man Suit, Mark X."
Loki snorted upon hearing his quiet introduction, shaking his dark head from left to right in a show of almost Pepper-like disparaging amusement.
"Only you would boast so much about an object of your own making. How can you claim your suit holds a truth only I'll be able to unveil when there's nothing about it that can possibly...? Oh!" Loki's words halted as soon as his eyes settled on the suit. His gaze widened and his milky-white complexion acquired the most lovely shade of red Tony had ever seen as he stood rooted to the spot and stared at the new design etched around the arc reactor with crystal clear disbelief.
"That's my rose, isn't it? You've painted the rose you gave me around your suit's energy source." He whispered shakily after a veritable eternity of shocked silence spent studying the suit in question through overwhelmed, tear-bright eyes.
Tony's lips released the breath they'd been holding and his hand sought Loki's own once again, grasping the god's trembling digits in a small gesture of reassurance.
"Yes. I've painted my rose -and that's definitely you, Loki- around the only heart I've ever had. I've branded your image upon my greatest creation, upon the one thing that defines me. Upon the only achievement of mine that means something pure and good and... self-less... to me. And I'm seriously freaking out right now, babe. Because I've done this and, although I honestly think you need someone to do this sort of thing for you, I'm not completely certain you want that someone to be me, so... oops! Please don't let it overwhelm you. I don't want to spook you or anything. I just... It really meant a lot to me when you wore that scarf with my colors and it made me realize that I've only offered you fun and sushi so far. I want so much more than that, peaches. I want everything. And I know that makes me sound like a fucking greedy bastard, but then I've always been a greedy bastard and..."
"You realize Heimdall is listening in right now, don't you, Anthony? You realize the allfather's spy has now seen this blue symbol and been told exactly what it means? You realize the king of Asgard is now privy to your most intimate feelings and they go against his every design for whatever future he has in store for me?"
"Don't think about them, cupcake. This isn't their moment, but ours. That fucking asshole can't choose your future for you, no matter how hard he tries, because that's all yours, Loki. Yours."
Loki's gaze softened at once, gorgeous green eyes brightening as they settled over him with a focused intensity that took Tony's breath away. Long, pale fingertips framed his stubbed jaw, holding his reddening face captive as his god studied his features further, drinking in his every blink and nervous gulp as he remained trapped there, willing captive of those hands and those eyes and the beautiful shy smile that was blooming ever so slowly across his trickster's pale lips.
"You should have been a poet, Anthony. You tell me the most beautiful things, even though you often wrap them in uncouth language and defiant bravado."
"Loki..."
"You have chosen me. You have branded an image of me upon your suit. You have named yourself mine of your own free will and now... Do you still want me like this? Would have a sorcerer whose magic has been crippled?" He questioned raggedly, lifting his shaking right arm to expose that awful bracelet once again and Tony growled with renewed rage when his eyes settled over it, hating the sight of it against his reindeer's skin all over again. Hating the terrible vulnerability its very presence had carved in Loki's heart.
"You are not crippled and I'm gonna get it off you, gorgeous. I swear it."
"Do not promise me sweet boons you can't possibly deliver. All I want from you is the truth. Your honest, unadorned truth."
"My truth is right here, Loki, painted on this suit for all to see."
"Then your truth pleases me, Anthony. I hope you find mine equally pleasing." Loki whispered and Tony didn't have enough time to ask him what that meant before the fingertips that held his face tilted it just so and his crush' gorgeous mouth fell upon his, claiming his entire being for himself in the most heart-pounding, toe-curling, honest to goodness hottest kiss he'd ever received. Tony groaned under the onslaught of Loki's devouring lips and his sexy god took the hint and entered his mouth with all the knee-weakening self-assurance of the conquering viking he'd been raised to be.
Tony went limp with sheer shock before coming back to life with a vengeance. His hands caught Loki's slender hips and gripped them tightly enough to make sure this wasn't some sort of wild dream, and his breath hitched with unashamed arousal when his prince moaned against his lips and wriggled slightly in his hands, rubbing those maddeningly sexy hipbones against his calloused palms as he took a step closer, plastering their bodies together all the way from lips to knees.
Tony's mouth tingled as Loki's lips plundered it mercilessly and he allowed himself to go soft and pliant, surrendering to the asgardian's ministrations with a willingness to give he'd been reluctant to gift anyone else. Loki licked and nibbled his way inside his mouth and Tony let him tangle their tongues together in a teeth-clanging mess of increasingly heady desire, unable to do anything but bask in the incredible heat of it all, in the swoon-worthy passionate intensity that seemed to have turned his usually skittish beloved from shy maiden to seductive vixen in the space between one blink and the next.
Loki kissed him as if they both were dying. As if there would be no tomorrow. As if he honestly believed he had to spend all his lust in this one caress, because he'd never be granted another. Tony wanted to reassure him, tell him to be gentle, to take his time and relax because they'd have an entire lifetime full of kisses just like this one, but he couldn't speak at all with a mouth full of Loki. Then the reindeer arched him slightly backwards and plastered their bodies so very close to one another's that Tony could feel every single ridge of the asgardian's ribs dig slightly into his abs. He became hyper-aware of how incredibly close their bodies were, separated by no more than two flimsy sets of clothes that would be oh-so-easy to discard, and he could do nothing but moan and growl and want so much that he burned from the inside out, like a gas fueled stove.
Lack of air eventually forced them apart and they stared at each other in complete silence for a tension-filled moment. Loki's green eyes looked fierce and terrified and so adorably self-conscious that Tony couldn't comprehend how the hell the passionate firebrand who'd just liquefied his brains and sucked them out through his lips could possibly be hiding inside such outwardly shy and reserved creature.
"Woa! That was, without a doubt, the most awesome first kiss, ever, cupcake, and I sincerely hope you're not planning on making it a one-time thing, because failure to repeat it until our lips fall off from overuse would be the most terrible tragedy." He managed to whisper in the end and could have floated off the ground all on his own -no metal suit required for this feat, thanks- when the beautiful sound of Loki's twinkling laughter curled around his intoxicated senses, making the moment brighter, bigger and about a trillion times better than it had been until then.
"Then I shall strive to kiss you more often. For I'm now determined to choose you for as long as you choose me, and that... That is my truth, Anthony."'
TBC