Mischief

"I'm only gone until next Tuesday." Natasha fixed her gloves and checked her belt for the last time.

Even though he had spent inside her twenty minutes earlier - a most powerful and gratifying release - Loki felt faint from desire. He thought there was no vision more sultry than the Black Widow in her catsuit. "Maybe we can reenact our first meeting," he said, pulling her close to kiss the nape of her neck.

"Hm. I think it's time we move forward instead." Natasha pulled him into a deep kiss. "Okay, just a short list of rules before I go."

"Rules!" Loki was outraged.

"You heard me. Don't eat the cake in the freezer – I'm saving it. Don't go into my lingerie drawer. And do not, whatever you do, go to Tony Stark's for poker night."

"Oh." He didn't want to do any of those things. "Is that all?"

"Yup, that's it." Natasha kissed him again, exclaimed at the time, and breezed out of the apartment.

Loki was still trying to acclimate to the new space. Natasha's apartment had a large living room, a tiny dining nook with a proper table, one claw-footed tub in a relatively sumptuous bathroom, and even a balcony where she grew some half-hearted plants in pots. After moving out of his dingy little rooms he enjoyed the cleanliness, the order, the room to spread out. With her gone he had even more space – and he could put his feet up on the sofa without being shouted at.

That lasted until two in the morning. He woke up reaching for her as usual and encountered nothing but sheets. Emerging from a horrifying dream, for one soul-freezing moment Loki thought a bandaged corpse lay next to him. He shot out of the bed and turned on the lamps to reassure himself all was well.

An hour later, the same thing happened. And thirty minutes after that. Finally he took the eiderdown, sat in the middle of the floor, and piled the blanket around him. The truth was he had grown accustomed to another body next to his.

Lack of slumber made him grumpy the next day. Loki yawned over his stultifying job; when lunchtime came he lurched to the refrigerator and eyed the choices. It was then he remembered the forbidden cake.

Slowly he opened the freezer door. He saw it was his favorite kind, with chocolate malted milk balls around the edge.

Resolutely he closed the door, turned back to the laptop. An hour's worth of work seemed to take an age; how he ended up in front of the freezer again he didn't know.

"One of the milk balls," Loki thought. "She will never notice." He hooked his finger inside the box, withdrew the candy, and crunched it.

There seemed to be a wrinkle in time, and when he came to his senses he found he had eaten a quarter of the cake.

With one rule broken, Loki thought he might as well break them all. It had always been his logic – if he was going to be in trouble anyway, he should maximize his fun before getting caught. That in mind, he padded to the lingerie drawer, where an envelope lay with the words DO NOT TOUCH written in red on the front. It was filled with several of the green papers known as Twenties.

Loki sniffed. He had no need of them without Natasha – he would feel ridiculous going to dinner on his own. No, there was nothing he could do with the cash unless he took the money and went to the Stark fellow's place to gamble – but that was silly. He had not even been invited.

"Hell yeah there's a game on!" Tony, a cigar in one corner of his mouth, drew Loki inside, put one arm around his shoulders, and gestured to a man at the bar. "Make my friend here a drink, wouldja? A stiff one. Get it? Stiff one? Okay, come and join the usual suspects."

Bruce, Steve, and a few others Loki didn't recognize sat around a table, cards fanned out in their hands. He watched the play for a few rounds before announcing he was ready to join in.

Either the mischief or the alcohol seemed to do the trick. That night he slept soundly – still in the middle of the floor with only the eiderdown for company.

It wasn't until the following morning that he remembered Natasha would be home shortly. Loki looked around in desperation, wishing more than ever for his magic. Haphazardly he picked up a few of the items which seemed to have displaced themselves: books, more plates, glasses, and a pair of heavy rubber boots that appeared to strap over the shoulders.

Rubber boots! What the Hel…?! And where were his clothes from the night before?

Plates went in the sink. Books were pitched under the tiny dining room table. Loki stacked the glasses in the dishwasher, although it wouldn't close when he tried; finally he put them in the sink as well. As for the boots, he flung them out on the balcony behind one of the plants.

That left the cake.

He felt his stomach sink as he looked at the box in the freezer and found there was one piece left. He should just eat it, he considered, and claim thieves had broken in. Probably there were many cake thieves on Midgard.

And the lingerie drawer – the money was gone. How had he managed to lose it all in one night?

The lock rattled, and Loki groaned. "Hey," Natasha called. "You decent?"

He sidled out of the kitchen, and instantly her face bunched with amusement. "Good day," he said stiffly, his mind whirling with schemes for explaining away all his mischief.

"You look like you've been up to no good." Natasha fisted his collar, drew him down for a long kiss.

Loki thought maybe if he got her into bed perhaps she wouldn't notice the transgressions; he responded to the kiss willingly, although he couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling she was going to find out sooner rather than later.

Natasha pushed him away and held him at arm's length. "Yup, definitely up to no good, you bad boy. What did you do?"

Sweat broke out on his forehead. "Do? Nothing, beautiful lady. I am merely happy to see you beyond all telling."

"Nuh-uh. You never call me 'beautiful lady'. Out with it before your punishment gets worse."

Punishment! Loki swallowed. "Natasha, I ate your cake."

"Mmhm. What else?"

"I went in your lingerie drawer."

"And?"

"And I played poker with Tony."

Natasha whipped out her Widow's Line, flourished it under his nose. "So basically you broke all three of my rules."

He looked sideways at the line. "What are you going to do with that?"

She crooked one finger. "Come and find out."

Natasha knew several ways of tying him down, Loki discovered. He lay with his forearms bound together, the line criss-crossing over his chest and down across his thighs. "I could tie up your hard-on like a salami," she said casually as she stroked his dick, "but I have plans for that part."

"Plans," Loki breathed. "And what are those?" He couldn't remember the last time he felt so lusty.

She ran one fingernail down his length. "Oh, you'll see in time." With one motion she unzipped her catsuit and undid her brassiere, thus allowing those generous breasts to bob free and deliberately flaunted them in front of his face. Just too far for him to lick or nip, of course.

"I am sorry," he began.

"I know you are." Natasha left him there on the bed and started to unpack, deliberately smoothing out each garment before consigning it to the laundry or a drawer. Her movements displayed her taut belly and pink nipples, flashing out of her suit as though by accident.

"Natasha," he moaned.

"The way you say my name," she replied. "It almost makes me want to peel off this catsuit completely, touch myself until it's all wet down there, climb on top of you, let you feel how she's gushing. Almost."

Loki swallowed. "Your breasts – they are as lovely as the lilies of Vanaheim. And your lips, sweeter than any wine I have been offered, ever, including the rare vintage stolen from Idunn, skin soft as the linen gracing the Valkyries themselves…"

"That line of bullshit's not working for me. Sorry, dude." Natasha started to zip up her catsuit.

"I could not sleep!" Loki shouted.

She paused. "What?"

"Without you, I mean to say." His voice faltered, became a whisper. "Without you in our bed, I had to take the blanket and sleep on the floor."

It did the trick. Natasha pulled down the zipper, cast off her catsuit, and climbed on top of him. And she was gushing, just as she had promised.

Sliding her cleft down his erection, bobbing with excitement, Natasha leaned over and allowed him to kiss her, part her lips with his tongue and taste her mouth. The bondage, the knots, and most of all, the feeling of her next to him after what seemed like ages, combined to make his breath steam, hitch in his chest. "Oh, please," he begged. When was the last time he begged? "Please, Natasha, fuck me."

She moved, captured his prick within her folds, and slid slowly down the length of his shaft. They both groaned at the unbearable pleasure. "I won't last long," she whispered.

"Thank the gods. Neither will I."

Natasha brought him a silk robe from the mission as a gift. Loki put it on and admired himself in the full-length mirror, thinking he would wear it later when he attacked her again. Maybe on the sofa, he considered, or on top of the kitchen counters. Or could he talk her into sneaking sex on the tiny balcony in full view of prying neighbors? The robe would be perfect for such an exciting rendezvous; he could take her from behind and out of the windows opposite it would all look perfectly innocent. Somewhat.

The doorbell rang, and he heard her answer it. "Hey, Tony," she said. "Oh, yeah – thanks. I really appreciate the help." There was a rustle that sounded like money exchanging hands.

"Sorry about the boots," Stark replied. "He lost the last round and was out of money, so we made him wear waders home. Pepper will bring his clothes later when they're dry-cleaned."

The realization struck him. Loki waited until the door closed again before he blasted out of the bedroom in a swirl of silk. "You knew all along I was going to disobey you!" he thundered. "In fact, you set up the entire affair, did you not?" He strode up to her, seized her chin, and tilted it up ruthlessly. "And the Stark fellow was in on it as well!"

Unperturbed, Natasha smiled back. "Of course I did. I didn't want you to destroy the elevator systems or reprogram JARVIS, so I left a few other pursuits to take up your time."

"And you just punished me for it, when it was what you intended all along!" He was incensed.

"And you enjoyed every second of that punishment."

That made him stop. "I…this is of no consequence. You tied me down under false pretences!"

Her face did the amused thing again. "You can have that last piece of cake to make up for it."

"Humph." Loki crossed his arms, prepared to hold a grudge and not speak to her for the next two days, before he remembered the balcony and the silk robe. "Actually, I may have remembered a way for you to make it up to me." He bent and whispered his plan in her ear, and she grinned, nodded.

"I have the perfect short skirt and high heels for a balcony scenario – mmm, that's going to be so hot, Loki. However," she added as he grew excited, started to bite her neck and palm the globes of her derriere, "in that case I get the cake."

Loki stumbling around Stark Tower wearing nothing but waders...I'll just let that image sink in. *tiptoes off*