Date time mother fudgers! WHEEEEEEW!
Lets get some Loki feels on too! Yeah!
I honestly don't even know what happened here; sorry if I fudged it up…
LETS GO! HUZZAH!
Hopefully, enjoy…
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Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god
That was probably the extent of the brain power in the world's most intelligent man, which is pretty bad considering.
Tony Stark, playboy billionaire was strung out; there was this tightness in his chest and this coil in his stomach that made him want to lay down because otherwise it was just gonna crumple his whole body in on itself. He could, for once, feel his heart constricting instead of the steady hum of the arc reactor.
So yeah, that's pretty bad, and when he took a step back to analyse it he shocked himself. Because somewhere over the past months he's stopped looking at Loki like a live wire, even though there's no doubt he is, and started just looking at him. More than that, looking forward to him, if that's something he can say.
He thinks the first clue should have been when he started caring about whether or not Loki was joking about liking him or not. If not then, it should have been when he was reassuring him when he was blue. But he definitely should have noticed by the time he was asking the other out; I mean really, how does that not scream; 'I really wanna know if you like me', which in turn screams; 'Therefore I care'?
Either way that was like, half an hour ago – old news.
Current topic; what the fuck should Tony Stark wear to the date?
He thought it was a prominent topic, but JARVIS, whom was the only one he dared to seek help from, was being entirely devoid of purpose. That is; he wasn't helping. Between telling him that he didn't care and telling him to put on mismatched items, he was throwing sarcastic comments and Tony is pretty sure as hell the AI developed the attitude itself; no way would he have programmed him like that.
Next time (was it bad he was already visualising where they could go next? Probably) he was just going to put the sassy computer on mute before the bugger could even realise what was happening.
As it was he finally (finally) dressed and had somehow managed to make it down to the garage without being intercepted by any of his fellow team members, or a shield agent, or one of his employees, or – well, the list goes on.
He wanted the car to match what he was wearing (and he dressed appropriately; blue jeans, a light red (it's not pink dammit) button up shirt and a blazer) but when he sees the bright green Chevrolet Corvette Convertible he just knows; it's perfect. It's the colour of grass and polished to the state where it looks like it's never been driven. It's sure to bring attention to itself, and that's fine, because he's going to be driving so fast no-one will see them anyway.
He tells JARVIS he better tune out the cheek when he asks for the traffic reports and is glad the AI follows through.
He holds the paper in his hand so he can read the address while he drives through the city; and he refuses to use a GPS – if he gets majorly lost (which won't happen) he has JARVIS anyway.
He has a whole 20 minute drive for his nerves to skyrocket as he makes his way to the address. He sussed it out earlier and knows that they'll get to the restaurant on time, and even if they don't, the place isn't the type to book over the top of others tables. Especially when it's Tony Stark's table.
So he pulls up at the address and is surprised to find just how fabulous this place looks. Because it's not like he thought Loki would live in the dregs, he just thought the god wouldn't go for anything so obvious. As it is, Loki is talking to a woman at the top of the steps; two women actually – one who looks about mid-sixties and the other who looks mid-twenties. He doesn't know what to make of it, because they're all sitting around this wrought-iron table with their feet up; the women's' on little foot stools whilst Loki's are extended high enough to rest on the railing; and drinking what appears to be coffee having a jolly good time.
He doesn't know what to make of it nor how to approach the situation, seen as none of them have noticed him, so he goes for his failsafe; make a scene.
He kneels up on the seat and beeps the horn calling out "Hey babe!" (Because maybe they don't know who he is) and giving a shit eating grin when it grabs their attention.
Loki taps the table and says something to the two before standing and grabbing his jacket before making his way down the stairs – the same way he did in Germany, not that Tony's watched the footage or anything. The leather of the jacket is hanging off his arm as he carries it and it covers the skin of his forearm that his rolled up white dress shirt shows. He makes it almost halfway down the path when the older of the women call out to him; "Loki!" Said god turns in response to his name and it gives Tony a nice view of his black denim clad ass, and yes, he firmly realises and admires the way the skinny jeans fit his figure and decides he's going to get the god wearing them as much as possible; especially if he wears those high top green converses with them, because it brings out the colour of his eyes. Yeah, his thoughts are becoming even a bit high-school teenish for him. "Your phone." The woman says before tossing the object which Loki catches deftly in one hand whilst walking backwards towards the car. He tucks it into his back pocket and holds his hand open in a parting wave before turning his attention back to where he's walking.
Which is nice, Tony thinks, because now Loki's looking at him and he gets to see the emotions dancing in his emerald eyes.
Loki just smirks at the car and doesn't even deign to open the door, opting instead to brace his hands on the seat and frame and jump over it and into his seat. Tony doesn't blame him, he did the same thing to get in too.
"Who are they?" he asks as they pull away from the curb, because he's curious.
"Friends." Loki answers, placing his jacket in the space between the seats.
"Friends?" He asks with a raised brow behind his ever-present-when-in-public sunglasses.
"They're understanding." Loki responds by way of explanation, flipping an arm over the edge of the car and using it as an arm rest. After a few moments he turns to look at Tony and gestures ahead, "Are we going?" he asks and Tony is hit by a flush of embarrassment at the knowledge he'd just been caught checking out the trickster at the stop sign instead of driving.
"You, ah, you look good." He says after a moment and he spares a glance sideways just in time to catch the smile that flickers across the others face.
"Oh Tony," Loki reaches across the gap and taps Tony on the leg. He tries not to find it distracting, "You look good too." Mocking, but that's okay, "Although I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that; countless others would."
"Well it's always nice to hear." Especially from him.
"I'm sure. We wouldn't want to starve your ego now would we?"
"Depends on if it's waiting for something good." How is this conversation coming so easily?
"Fasting before a feast? Good in theory; not in practice."
"And you would know because?" I want to know, it's stupid and means nothing in the long run, but I want to know.
"I tricked Thor into it before an eating competition he challenged me to."
Fascinating. "And did that work out for you?"
"Well I won, but it hardly worked out for me; I ate so. Much. Food. Never again, okay well, maybe again, but never again with boar."
"So I take it we won't be ordering cob roller tonight?" Loki lets out a musical laugh at the comment, leaning forward slightly in his seat and dipping his head slightly.
"No, I suppose not."
The restaurant is a private little thing; where the staff are paid enough to keep their mouths shut and the patrons are desperate enough for their own privacy that they won't bother outing anyone else. Or won't dare. Despite that it's nice, first class setting and service and food to die for; he knows; he's been here before. It's an all-round venue with areas for romantic dining or business get up yet still with a bar and, later on, a dance floor. There are exits in every corner, which, apart from the ability to leave without being hounded by paparazzi, probably also says something about the lawfulness of the business that's discussed here; the place probably hosts a mafia only night every other week, but that's never gotten out so it says a lot about the quality of the lack of digression here.
The staff don't ask questions and the patrons don't spare looks for others, but the greatest thing about being here with it's ridiculous pricing is that he knows he's safe here because he could sell out just about everyone in the place if they even looked at him funny. They all could; cause unending trouble for one another which is why he knows it's all good here.
Unfortunately; that doesn't mean people here don't mingle, because they do, and apparently the fact that Loki is here means he's on the market to every fucking partisan in the place. At least, that's how Tony feels when he's coming back from ordering some of the harder drinks only available at the bar to find Loki absolutely surrounded by people. So surrounded he might just drown if the men and women – and they're mostly men, because this place won't divulge their secrets – don't back away for just a moment.
Apparently he's not the only one who sees the appeal in the god and people are turning away from business to swarm him like he's the last scrap of food on the entire planet. Which sucks for Tony, because he can see a few people in that crowd that even he's jealous of; he, with his sleek lies and playboy front, even he can see the appeal in some of the other men and women here and can see how Loki might just lose interest.
The thought does not sit well with him and begins burning in his chest, heart and head which is, regrettably, missing a certain filter between there and his mouth.
And there's a remarkably attractive guy leering at the god currently, and Loki, looking entirely comfortable in the situation is declining, but the guys keeps pushing. This is the exact situation he's talking about where the brain to mouth filter would come in handy.
"Hey," he says, grabbing the guys wrist which was about to make contact with Loki's arm; not on his mother fucking watch, "He said 'no'." and then to the rest of the crowd that's gathered; "Go find someone else to drool over; this one's mine." Loki's eyes snap to him and he can't help but see the appreciation that runs through them. The crowd thins with a few jeers and 'find me if he bores you's, but that's fine, because Loki is his again.
And Loki is giving him a look that's entirely too filthy for the situation.
"So you dig the protective thing," he says, relaxing back in his seat, "Honestly? Didn't expect that one." Loki crosses his arms on the table and leans over them before replying.
"In my situation," he begins, "How often do you think I come across someone willing to do so?" Interesting, if not a bit heartbreaking.
"Hmn, so that translates to being a thing?" he asks still a bit dubiously and Loki leans back in his seat, one arm falling into his lap while the other is still on the table.
He taps the cloth with his finger and says; "Very much so." With a look that gives Tony no doubt.
"So I could lose you to any idiot in this place that likes to makes things his?"
"Protective, not possessive; there's a difference, and I will certainly not take being treated as an object well. I'm sure you can image how that would turn out." Bloody. It's that moment that their drinks are delivered to the table and someone comes to take their order.
"What do you want?" Tony asks, because he's trying to be the gentlemen he rarely is.
"I don't know." Loki says flippantly, not even sparing the menu a look.
"You can have anything; I'm rich, I can afford it." He says, trying to coax and opinion out of the other.
"Yes, but I simply don't know." He puts emphasis on his lack of knowledge and Tony understands this is because Loki actually doesn't know; the food would be different where he came from, and he doubts food endeavours are really on the gods 'to do' list when it comes to learning things about the earth.
Tony orders Veal in ash with polenta and osso-bucco vinaigrette, and Spinosini: Manilla clams, calamari and hot chillies with pasta. He doesn't know what either of them really are, so he figures they're on fairground now; and if Loki doesn't like whichever dish he receives he's fine with swapping or simply ordering again.
"…You're being very open." He says after a moment, because high-and-mighty Loki would never admit to a lack of knowledge, "I mean, you gave me your address." He stresses.
"I don't live there." Loki says with a smile, "You think I would give you my actual address? You could be playing me, and then where would I be? I'd be in a trap is where I'd be."
"But you were the one playing me, you said so yourself."
"And you just said so too; were. Were; that is the operative word here." He honestly doesn't know how to respond to that.
"Still; very open."
"I don't imagine we'd be getting anywhere if I wasn't."
"Well, alright; if we're being open, can I ask questions?"
"I don't imagine I could stop you." Loki raises his eye brows, "But I do know a fair deal more about you than you do I, so I suppose it only fair."
"Yeah, coz fair is the first thing I think of when I think god of lies."
"I'll have you know I was given that title not because I lie a great deal, but because I can discern the every falsehood." Loki points his glass at him amusedly.
"Great to know. Note; never lie to Loki; it's futile."
"Hmn," Loki hums his agreement before bringing the glass to his lips and turning his attention across the space.
"You have a phone; what's your number?" he asks quickly, grasping at the first thing that comes to mind because he wants those eyes back on him. Loki looks to him out of the corner of his eye and turns back to him slowly.
"I give you free reign on questioning and that's the first thing you think of?" He asks, but Tony notices that his hand is reaching back to pull his phone out of his pocket, "Such a prominent method of tracking," well he hadn't really thought of that, but he supposes it's true, "I can only assume a trade would be fair." He slides his phone across the table with deft fingers.
"Uh yeah," Tony replies smartly, handing his phone over. He picks Loki's up off the table and begins running his fingers over the keys to save his number as a contact. He can't resist the urge of scouring the list to see who else the god keeps in contact with. It's longer than he thought it would be, but nowhere near as long as his own. "Hey! Why do you have JARVIS as a contact?" he asks abruptly and can see Loki smiling from behind his phone.
"Sometimes I have the express need to tell Thor just how much of an idiot he is." Tony watches him for a moment but realises he'll get no other reply. He also realises Loki doesn't seem too perturbed at the fact he's scrolling through his contacts.
"Who's Stephanie?"
"A reporter." Loki's tone is dull here; he gets the feeling he doesn't like her. Good.
"Dave?" this time the answer is more enthusiastic
"Heh, a barista I enjoyed making flush." He smirks mischievously but his eyes are still concentrated on the screen in his palms, "But he was far too expectant. And an idiot. I took his number just so he didn't get what he wanted for once," now Loki's eyes flick up and he can see the roguery burning deep within them while the smirk turns sharper, "and trust me; he really wanted." He waves his hand absently and the number disappears off the screen before him.
"Uh, okay. What about June?" Loki sighs and holds his hand out for his phone back, placing Tony's on the table.
"Is this all you truly wish to speak of? She was the woman you saw earlier; the older one. The younger's name is Bethany and yes, I have her number too." Loki types a lot when he gets his phone back, fingers flying and it only takes a few moments. "The heart is a nice touch." He speaks when he apparently finds Tony in his contacts.
"What are you doing?"
"Oh you know; there's no such thing as too much knowledge."
"Did you… memorise the others' numbers?" he doesn't need to reply, the slight tweak of his lips is enough, "Great – you didn't get them from me okay?" he says, finally picking up his own phone to look through and find Loki's contact. There's no last name, but knowing the family history he understands why. "Awesome, now I just have to get you to smile."
"Why?" Loki asks, phone long forgotten and back in his pocket.
"So I can get a contact image. Don't suppose you'll give me that for free?"
"No."
"You'll make me work for it?"
"To make up for all the things you don't have to work for."
Their food arrives and Tony's happy to find Loki likes it; he's doubly happy to find he likes it too. He spends a great deal of time finding out trivial things about the other, like what coffee he likes, and then, when it turns out coffee gives him side effects, what type of side effects they are (read: way too much magic energy to be healthy). He finds out which foods Loki knows he doesn't like (celery, Turkish delight, brussel sprouts (and joke about how they are universally evil)) which foods he knows he loves (mango, chocolate, fairyfloss) and what music he's come across that he likes (basically everything bar songs like 'Friday' and the like, which he can appreciate). They talk about Dr Doom is and which of them would rather kill themselves as opposed to listening to him monologue again. They talk about how Steve is a tight ass and can be pleased and how Thor is an absolute dolt who can't grip the basics of anything.
He manages to take a photo of Loki when he's smiling at something that's been said, and the god doesn't protest and lets him set it as the contact picture.
Finally, he manages to work up the courage to ask the question that, while it will probably ruin whatever mood they've got going, is something he really wants to know; "So, with the taking over the world thing; why'd you have to do it?" Loki sighs and Tony quickly back pedals, "If you don't-"
"No, it's fine." Loki assures, "It was inevitable; I had wondered when you would ask." But he doesn't look angry, so that's nice. He's about to start speaking when desert arrives and Loki just looks at the sundae before turning his eyes to Tony. After thanking the waiter he directs his attention to his date, "Just because you can afford the ridiculous doesn't mean you must have it." Loki gestures to the + $1000 ice-cream.
"Anything for you, honey." Tony says in a sweet voice and Loki gives him a tired smile in the light of the conversation they've yet to have.
"With the... taking over the world ploy, well… your Elizabethans understood it better. I am the God of Chaos amongst other things, as I'm sure you're aware." Tony nods even though Loki's not really looking and is more busy twirling the spoon and playing with the ice-cream, "My job, as God of Chaos, is to cause Chaos. Astounding, I know, but the title and the tales make it sound a lot more… uncouth than it really is. Just," he's having a hard time searching for the right words, but Tony gives him time, "The concept your predecessors believed was that if there was disorder then chaos would ensue; if someone was usurped or unrightfully punished then trouble would befall. In these cases, they believed the chaos came to balance it back to an order; that is my duty. If something goes awry then I am to come in and shake things up until they fall back into a semblance of hat it must be for the universe to continue. So many things hinge on the seemingly unimportant details, and so without intervention things would run off track, which is where I come in. I have made regiments fall, I have had kingdoms trade their trust of one to another and had individuals betray their leaders only so the outcome matches what needs to happen. It is why I am so disliked; there is pain and so I arrive – it is easy to blame what seems out of place, especially when only my actions are seen. But it is all for the same goal; to keep the balance and order, it just so happens that I get the end that sucks." He finishes, eyes still firmly averted and waiting for the disbelief and anger; waiting to be untrusted again. He's stopped toying with the spoon and is instead wringing his hands.
"So like in Macbeth and Hamlet and Shakespeare's other stuff?"
"I-yes." He looked shocked at the response, like he was expecting something entirely different and not something so articulate.
"So, you tried to take over the world to put a balance in place?" he asks and Loki furrows his brow n such a manner that it displays his shock at the response.
"…Yes, I… My attempt was planned to fail from the beginning; you needed the motivation to draw yourselves together in the light of what's passed and what is to come. Imagine I had properly developed plans; there would have been no way your team could have responded effectively – now you can respond to any threat with the ease that comes with training, past experience and knowledge of one another."
"Oh. Okay." He says, and he does it so flippantly just to see the reaction he'll get.
It's a good one; Loki's head rips up and he locks him in a soul searching gaze and all of his defences have been cleared through sheer shock alone meaning Tony can see everything, and he can see it's no lie.
"You- why do you believe me?" his voice is softly rattled and displays the depth of how weird he finds the situation.
"Thor told me our people wouldn't understand; that sounds like just the thing we wouldn't get. Besides, I trust you." He sees the swell of relief that washes over Loki, "So I take it June and Bethany believed you too."
"Yes but- do you not think of all the deaths? Not only to your own people, but the Chitauri?"
"Well if you said it needed to happen then I believe you; I mean, it sucks yeah, but I saw how torn up you were over it. Sometimes bad things happen; sometimes you have to make the sacrifice." Loki gives this emotion draining smile, like he's found the last star in all of time and Tony wonders if that's what he looks like every time someone understands him, because it's totally disarming and he just wants to hug the bugger and keep him safe from the horrors of the world.
"And if you didn't try to take over the world?"
"It would be destroyed either by now or in the very near future. How many battles have you had since I that were a close call? Imagine if you weren't co-ordinated."
"So, you stopped the apocalypse?"
"Heh, Ragnarok? I don't bother myself with such tales." He scoffed at it actually.
"You don't believe in Ragnarok? That's a bit disconcerting, gods not believing in their own end."
"Why should I? All cultures have the same end; death and fire and nothing to stop it, but the consistency doesn't prove it true. The tale weavers of old gave the prophecies and thought: 'This is a story and all stories have to end' so they bring about the end of everything. And the figure; Loki is the chaos god, so it's only fitting he brings it about. But the world is life, and life, no matter how hard you search for it doesn't have meaning. Why should it; can you not be content with the chance to live? Why should there be an alternate which means an end must come? My life has meaning, this is why I'm a god; I must do my duty or the worlds are ripped apart, but you, you are blessed with freedom and a future of your own making – any effects of the choices you make must be dealt with by the likes of me. Your life, the life of the world, the universe; it has endless possibilities and therefore is endless in itself. I have no worries for Ragnarok, for it will not come, and if it does, it most certainly will not be in the form of finite destruction." For some reason the words resound in Tony and he realises that Loki is old; not that he looks it, but he's lived it.
"So I don't have to worry that the Mayan calendar says the worlds gonna end on the 21st of December this year? Because I don't wanna buy Christmas presents for people if they aren't even gonna get them, I mean, all the time spent thinking; it's just not worth it." Loki just gives one of his soft smiles that would have the world melting if he truly wished to rule it. "So does this mean you're all soft and cuddly inside?" he asks in a sickly sweet voice.
"Hardly. I still tried to kill Thor you know, and while it would have given order it was hardly a part of my duties."
"Okay, so no fluffy unicorns for your present then?" he teases, because he already knows the pain of being the overshadowed one and he understands it, probably not in the full capacity, but enough that he's over looked it before and he'll do it again now.
"No. If I do get one," he spins the spoon in Tony's face, "you will know pain."
"Alright then, I'll think of something better."
"I'm sure you will." The statements loaded; full of thoughts of the future, but he loves it. Loki picks up the gold leaf left over from the sundae they've decimated, holding it aloft between his middle and pointer finger. "You eat it." Tony supplies.
"Why would I eat gold?" he says it like he's above the action, which is weird because it's eating gold.
"I dunno, it's just something people do." He shrugs and waits for Loki's reaction. It comes in the form of a smirk and the extension of his arm towards him.
"Well then you'd better eat it Stark, for I already have a silver tongue and you can't beat that."
"But gold's better than silver."
"To you. But gold is malleable; it twists and distorts easily. Silver is much stronger and smoother."
"But your helmets gold."
"But it's not made of gold. Colour isn't everything you know." He holds the gold leaf closer, waiting for Tony to take it.
"Says the guy who just said silver was better."
"Substance, not colour." He's still holding the sheeting out, so Tony takes it; with his mouth. He makes sure to lick Loki's fingers as he does so, but the god looks amused more than anything. "Besides," he starts again once the leaf is gone from his hand, "Silvertongue sounds so much better than goldtongue." He has to agree.
It's the middle of the night when they leave; which means that only the drunks are littering the streets and that's fine because if any of them recognise who they are, chances are they'll forget by morning and won't have the foresight to take a picture.
It takes one too many drunken passes at the god by random citizens before he backs the other up as best he can and works his tongue into the others mouth. Loki ends up in a seated position which reverses their height difference and Tony finds himself looking down on the god for once. Loki doesn't seem to mind, just curves his head up to meet Tony's lips.
Surprisingly it's Loki that closes the space between them, scrabbling to get a grip on Tony's shirt and using his ankles in the back of Tony's knees to push him forward. His hold is tight and Tony doesn't think he could get away if he wanted, but still he has to know.
He has to.
"Wait, Loki," it's hard to get their lips separated long enough to get out a word, "Why are, mmph, why are you doing this?" he asks softly and it causes Loki to pause, "Thor told me that you're a smooth talker to rival all smooth talkers."
"He did, did he?" he asks, voice flatter than it's been all night.
"Yeah, so uh, if you… I don't even know – I just don't understand." He takes a small step back, "I mean if you wanted this, you'd already have it; so what are you doing?" he takes another step back, establishing a space because, don't get him wrong, he's all up for it; but not if the other doesn't want it. He won't be that person. A panicked look crosses Loki's face in that moment and the god reaches out to stop him moving further away.
"No don't" he tries to stop his retreat and assure him at the same time. He looks like he's fighting with himself, with what to say, so Tony takes the initiative.
"What is it then?" he puts on his best pout, which he knows isn't great, but coupled with genuine confusion it does the trick and Loki just starts blurting out his words.
"Smooth talk can only get you so far; you know this, but I…" he loses himself for a moment, mouth working as he tries to figure out whatever is moving through his head. Their faces are close, incredibly so and Tony's only option is to look into his eyes. Soon the torrent of words start, and he can't stop it, "You listened to me. You listen to me; I have walls surrounding me miles high but you take one look and plough them down, faster than I can rebuild and when you see what's there you don't run, you don't scream or fight or yell or try to kill me. I hate it, I hate everything that you see and I fight it – I fight everything you say; I don't want to like it but you know I like it. And you say things, anything, the first thing that comes to your mind and despite how hard I try it gets to me. I thought – I thought I was untouchable. I thought no-one would ever be able to get through again, because I hid myself in the memory of sheer pain, but you just barge right in and you don't even know it, and it's the stupidest thing, but I want you to know it. And you fight for me; I've only ever been seen as the enemy, but you fight for me. That's ridiculous, to be fought for – all of them other boys can walk away; they aren't even in the game. I just – you have this swag and attitude and you don't listen to my half formed protests. I just, I want to hear you say my name. I-" he's run out of things to say, his mind is just reforming the same things over and over again and he feels so dumb, because this is Tony Stark, playboy billionaire he's pouring his words out to and he has this useless semi-hope that Tony wont hate him for it.
"So you like me because I listened to you?" Tony asks through the spinning haze that is his head right now. Loki's saying all these things and he's right; he didn't even know he did even a fraction of those things and he's caught between believing the words and being the giddiest he's been in a long time or taking it as a play and wanting to believe it anyway. Because damn it to hell if this isn't the closest he's been to feeling since Pepper.
"No, I have June for that," he reassesses his statement, "I like you because you're arrogant and selfish and intelligent and beautiful and snarky and imploring and enthusiastic and stupid and brave and… damn it to hell Tony." The gods forehead falls forward to rest on his and the lids to those green eyes fall shut. He only gets a moment to reflect on the fact that Loki said his first name before the trickster's speaking again, "Look what you did to me, you idiot," he gets slapped in the chest softly which matches the words used; basically a flow of breath.
"… so you like me?" he can feel his lips curving up, but Loki, with his eyes still closed won't notice, because Tony kept his voice as free of inflexion as he could.
He, however, can feel the way Loki's brows draw together and it looks as though the answer is being physically ripped from him; "yes."
"Well then I hope you meant it about those other guys not even playing; because I don't share." Loki's eyes snap open with surprising clarity at the sentence, searching and scouring him as they always do; taking in the information there, looking for the hints of falsehood he can detect so easily. He doesn't care and pushes his lips to the gods instead of waiting for him to finish his in depth assessment.
Loki drinks from his lips like nothing else, legs tugging him closer and arms racing over his arms, hair, neck, face, stomach. Tony accepts it easily; one hand coming to rest in raven hair while the other takes a firm grip of his hip. It's only when Loki's hands slip inside his shirt leaving blazing trails of goose bumps that he gives pause and laughs; "Loki, we're still in public." He mutters against his lips, moving his hands to grab at the ones that won't stop their relentless search. Somehow, Loki manages to get a leg between his and slides it up his thigh and he knows exactly where it's headed, so he drops one of Loki's arms to intercept it instead. And so Loki's arm picks up the search again; dammit he does not have enough limbs to stop this deviant. "Seriously Loki, this is going over the PDA acceptability line and venturing into public indecency." He tries to step back but Loki just follows, standing and using his new height to his advantage, crowding over Tony, lips not leaving his mouth or skin. "Loki we, hnng," that high pitched whine is definitely on his list of 'most embarrassing things ever' and it only serves to spur Loki on, making it harder for him to form coherent sentences, let alone deny the advances. "We need to get, unh, off the street."
For a terrible, horrid moment he can't feel Loki anymore, his touch or his breath or anything, but it's back in the next and he opens his eyes to see garden and stone and one very memorable wrought-iron table.
One of Loki's hands move back behind him to twist the door knob and then Tony is following as Loki walks backwards into the house, still not ceasing his affections.
"I thought you said you didn't live here." Tony says, a little weirded out by the change in scenery; the place is huge.
"It is not my only place of residence." The god amends, pulling him to the stairs and grabbing his hand to lead him up them, giving Tony space to breathe and think.
"Are you sure we should-" Tony starts, still marvelling at the sheer size of the place as they pass door after door.
"They are the ones who invited me to stay; they know what they were getting into." Loki is still leading him with determination.
"But should we really-"
"The walls are soundproof." He says with a quirk of his lips as he finally pushes open one of the furthermost and highest doors.
"Are you-"
"I'm sure." Any further concerns for the patrons of the household are demolished as Loki pounces on him; touching him like sin itself had possessed his bones.
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So, I have no excuses lol.
Loki is the way he is because he needs the loves ^x^
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Stay tuned and stay awesome