Healthy and sane individuals would probably have this conversation sitting side by side, exchanging sympathetic glances and apologizing for past wrongs. He and Loki never claimed to be healthy or sane, though, and he knows a reasonable conversation would only last as long as it took Loki to wriggle out of it. So instead Tony jumps in the deep end, and figures at the very least Loki will play along just to see where the hell he's going with this.
"Chained and domesticated." Tony says without preamble, laying sideways on the cot and watching water pool at Loki's feet. His blue boyfriend stiffens under the spray from the shower head, his fingers wound in his tangled hair and attempting to tease out the scabs. He is skilled at hiding his reactions, as a general rule, but not shame. Humiliation has a way of creeping around his masks and shining out of his eyes like a road flare drawing attention to a car crash.
"What?" Loki says tightly, aiming for nonchalance and missing by a mile.
"'You would have me chained and domesticated.'" Tony quotes, "Pretty sure those were your exact words."
Loki doesn't acknowledge that. He shuffles from foot to foot and digs further into the mess between his horns. Tony sits up. Five minutes of flicking through the rolodex of he and Loki's previous attempts gave him a few good leads. Neither of them are ever going to be fully prepared for this, so all in all he doesn't feel too wrong footed. Even if he had a detailed outline, nicely written cue cards, and a goddamn powerpoint he would probably toss it out and improvise anyway.
"That's the most upsetting misunderstanding, for me." Tony continues. "Because I think I've made it pretty clear, like, multiple multiple times, that I want you as an equal."
Loki sighs. Doesn't even look up. Tony's hands find their way to the wrinkled fabric around his knees and he starts to pick at the seams impatiently. He needs Loki to invest some effort into this, but he just hunches his shoulders and stands there like a naked cherub in a park fountain.
"For fuck's sake, will you say something?"
Loki turns the tap off roughly, and the water cuts out. Wet feet slap on the floor as he stalks toward Tony.
"You never complained about restraining me before." Loki accuses, coming to a stop in front of him and crossing his arms. He's dripping water all over the sheets and on Tony's pants. He can't help but feel like he's being provoked.
"You needed it. And we didn't fuck like that-"
"We used to. Before you decided I was unfit." Loki says.
Guilt slices Tony just thinking about it. Rough sex was fun enough with strangers he didn't care about, more so with Loki in the beginning. He was a lot less inhibited when he was doing his whole sexually liberated Bond girl act, and Tony didn't feel particularly guilty about roughing up a war criminal. But then they fell in love, and all that started to feel really risky.
"Maybe I have some regrets about that." Tony hedges, struggling to keep his tone even and his face diplomatic. "Maybe I don't think you'll stop me if things go wrong."
"If your cock is in my ass, I fail to see how anything can go wrong." Loki mumbles under his breath. His cheeks light up a dusky purple, but there's a bold little smirk on one side of his lips that gives Tony hope. Water drips on his bare feet and he decides he can't sit any longer.
Slipping off the cot with a squeal of poorly manufactured springs, Tony pulls the top sheet up with him and folds it in half a couple times. Starting on a rounded shoulder, he runs the sheet down Loki's arm.
"A lot, Loki." Tony sighs. "When no means yes, a lot can go wrong."
"I never said no-"
"Your body did." Tony says.
Taking his hand, Tony turns Loki's wrist over and dries between his fingers, in the valley of his palm, and up to the inside of his elbow. Loki accepts the care with his usual stoicism, but his flushed cheeks soften his blank expression into something approaching openness. He's listening.
"My answer is still no." Tony says, "Maybe later on, when we know what the hell we're doing-"
"What are we doing?" Loki asks, eyeing the improvised towel and Tony's hand clutching his.
"Reparations." Tony says, rubbing the towel down Loki's chest, and lifting his elbow to dry the short patch of fuzz under his arm. "We both fucked up. And I'm hoping by the time we're done making it up to each other, maybe we'll have some ground rules."
"Generally methods of repayment are agreed upon beforehand."
"Then let's negotiate." Tony says. "I want to touch you. Not sex just-"
"I was going to ask for sex." Loki interrupts, his lips pursed and shoulders tense.
"Really? After what just happened, you're really gonna ask me again?"
"Not like that." Loki crosses his arms and looks down, "At this point I would settle for nearly anything."
"Settle? We do stuff all the time."
"We sit on the couch and watch television. If I am quite lucky you might look at me once or twice before falling asleep on your tablet."
"I haven't been in the mood-" Tony mumbles.
"Am I displeasing?" Loki demands, motioning to his naked form, "Has something changed in my appearance which repels you? Two days ago you turned down even my mouth-"
"Because you hate giving blowjobs-"
"Well I hate this more!" Loki huffs, "One day you want to discuss marriage, the next you are turning yourself into a weapon, and now here you are clinging like a child with a doll. Do you not desire me beyond the comfort you take at my presence?"
"I've been busy!" Tony says, running a hand through his hair in frustration, and tossing the folded up sheet on the bed. "I've been flying all over the world trying to fix what I screwed up. I've had my name raked through the mud, and…"
Loki's hands clench at his sides, and Tony counts the number of times he just said I. He cringes, pinching his nose.
"...and I owe you." Tony says. "But you really should have told me. That's our only rule, you're supposed to tell me."
"And you were supposed to leave the Aether in the Tesseract. And I was supposed to stop my advances after you used our safeword." Loki says, his hand making a circular motion as he follows the flow of their actions. "Don't you see there is no right here? We may go back and forth adding tallies upon one another's record, but no amount of apologetic gestures would wipe it all out."
"Then maybe we don't keep score." Tony says, bending stiffly to pick up the folded sheet and holding it open in front of him. Relaxing his face, he allows hopeless optimism to show and pleads with his eyes. "Come here."
Loki could make the simplest concession look like a marathon. The man was born to bicker and nitpick, and Tony can see what it costs him to be a little less obstinate right now. Genuinely, Tony wishes Loki didn't have to compromise his personality, but he isn't a saint. He can't do this with someone that only loves him when he's naked. He knows that's not the case, can see it in every awkward, forced truth that comes out of Loki's mouth and in the stilted way he says goodbye like he'd rather skip the sad part and go straight to pining. But at times like these, it really wouldn't hurt to hear an I Love You.
Bowing his head, Loki shuffles between Tony's outstretched arms and allows him to wipe the water from his face and neck. He wraps the sheet around Loki's damp shoulders when he's finished, wrestling with a strong urge to comfort him, or maybe himself. Running his hands up the curve of Loki's stomach and cradling the slight mounds of his breasts, he supposes Loki has gained some weight since his brush with death. It's only natural, what with him eating and sleeping the proper amounts. If anything he looks closer to healthy than Tony has ever seen him. Peppering kisses across the plane of Loki's chest, he circles his thumbs around those cute little nipples and ghosts his breath over the sensitive skin. Goosebumps raise over Loki's chest and he grips Tony's shoulders, sighing.
"I'm sorry I betrayed your trust." Tony says, cupping his hands around Loki's jaw and tugging him down into steady, reassuring kisses that stick to their lips like dripping molasses. Loki returns his hesitant pecks, long arms wrapping around Tony and holding him there. The inhuman heat of his body is like a thermal blanket, permeating through thin clothes and warming him from head to hip. At the first tentative brush of tongue he sucks Loki into his mouth and encourages him to take over with a rumbled groan.
The kiss morphs under Loki's direction, turns intense, devouring, and as unpredictable as the man giving it. Tony burrows into his embrace, gripping his jaw with both hands while they lose themselves. His hands find their way into Loki's wild hair and he winds his fingers in to the roots and uses it to anchor those thin lips against his. His head goes pleasantly vague from the lack of oxygen, but he drags it out as long as he can. They break away breathless and soft, swollen lips travel down Tony's beard to suck at the spot below his ear that never fails to get his blood pumping. He allows it, lays his head on Loki's arm and luxuriates. Nobody kisses like Loki, nobody.
Playing absently with Loki's hair, Tony slips the sheet off his shoulders and brings it around to finish the job. Starting with his arm, he repeats the process from earlier, drying between his fingers, then scruffing up the faint black hairs on Loki's knuckles and over his bony wrist. This time when he lifts the elbow to dry his underarm, a corner dips into the hollow of one of his ribs and he giggles, reflexively angling his torso away. The dumbest smile spreads across Tony's face.
"Ticklish?" he teases.
"No!" Loki snorts. Feeling devious, Tony grazes his other hand up Loki's side, just barely tingling along his ribs, and Loki laughs uncontrollably.
"Stop it-" he gasps, but Tony doesn't. He drops the sheet on the bed and goes at it with both hands, laughing at the way Loki twitches and tries to slap his hands away.
"Tony, come now-" Loki doubles over, protecting his sides with his arms and composing his face into a stern glare with a lot of effort. It doesn't reach his eyes, which are glittering with mirth and surprise. "You're being ridiculous."
Tony chuckles, throwing an arm around Loki's back and kissing the top of his head. Between the horns, like he always does. It feels right, despite the leftover wariness and guilt.
Strangely settled in this precise configuration of he and Loki, he takes notes. The way he has Loki under his hand, the relaxed quality of both of their bodies, the quiet thrill of his touch earning a visceral, involuntary reaction. It's authentic in a way that rope harnesses and riding crops never felt, this feeling of Loki entrusting his very breakable heart to Tony.
Walking behind Loki, he drapes the sheet around his head and ruffles it through his wet hair. Pressing his luck, he gathers up a corner and pats gently around the base of the horns.
Loki shudders. "C-Careful-"
Nodding, Tony continues lightly circling the intersection of horn and skull, following the coarse fabric with a soothing graze of fingers.
"Stop-" Loki gasps, "I can do it."
"Shh, let me." Tony whispers, massaging Loki's scalp and slowly continuing his work.
The horns emerge at an angle, and thanks to Fen's abysmal hygiene he's learned that Jotun can get awful rashes if the skin isn't dried all the way. It's a very sensitive area, even a light touch rides the line between nice and painful, and Tony gives the task his full attention. Once it's done he buries his nose in messy hair and presses dainty kisses to the horns, enjoying the fragile exhales that escape Loki's mouth and the musky person-smell that he can't normally detect under scented shampoo.
He flattens his hand on Loki's chest and guides him to stand up straight. The sheet slips down around his shoulders like a shawl and Tony takes a moment to appreciate the sight of his back. Running both hands up and down, he dries and massages Loki through the sheet. He's a tower of whipcord muscles and stiff joints, so much so that Tony can barely pick out the bones from the soft tissue. He squeezes Loki's tense neck, thumbs deep circles under his bird-like shoulder blades, and strokes all the way down to squeeze at his butt.
Loki's ass makes an excellent stress ball. Tony feels pretty calm with Loki leaning against him and silently accepting his touch. It makes him a bit contemplative. There's still a long list of questions that need to be shared, and maybe he will be better at answering if Tony demonstrates the practical application. Gives him a hint at how much better the sex will be if he just gives Tony a clue. He has to stand on his toes and angle his chin up to whisper in Loki's ear but it is well worth the trouble to feel him shiver.
"You've been saying a lot of interesting things lately." Tony murmurs in a casual just-business tone, his hand coming to rest firmly around Loki's hips.
"Have I?" Loki asks.
"Oh yeah. Very interesting."
Moving his right hand to Loki's front, he grazes his fingers up his belly and dances them between his breasts. Loki hums at the feather-light touch and grinds his ass against Tony's stiffening dick. He wonders if Loki is getting hard yet but he doesn't check, doesn't want to kill the anticipation. There's a definite thrill building, a hunger that's not entirely the same as normal sex but not totally different. Loki sucks down a deep, measured breath that comes back out as a whine.
"For example," Tony says, abruptly wrapping his hand around Loki's neck and reeling him down until his back touches Tony's chest and his lips brush the back of Loki's ear. "'Please, sir.'"
He doesn't really choke him, it's purely symbolic. A test of trust. Loki allows it, hell he's turned on by it, his body quivering against Tony and melting into him. That's surprising. He didn't think Loki would be comfortable with that.
"You caught me off guard with that one." Tony admits, "I don't really go for titles, wasn't expecting it."
"Your A.I.-" Loki starts, his body tensing like a bowstring.
"Modeled after a real person. Employed by my father."
"Oh-" Loki says, his eyes fluttering open in surprise, "I didn't know."
"I know, don't worry about it." Tony says, lowering his hand to Loki's collarbone and patting him in a soothing cadence. "But uh, that does it for you? The name game."
Loki purses his lips, his nostrils flaring in embarrassment. Tony can practically see his mind tying him up in knots. His damp hair is plastered to his skin, so it's nothing for Tony to loop a handful around his fingers and jerk him back to the present. Damn, but Loki really goes for the hair pulling. One sharp tug and his eyes flutter shut again.
"Don't overthink it, just say yes or no."
"Y-Yes." Loki gasps.
"What do you like about it?" he asks, sucking on Loki's neck with loud, wet noises that make him blush even darker
Loki bites his lip, swallows. "The formality is appealing."
"Formality. Interesting." Tony repeats, his mind flicking through the options. There's got to be something Loki can call him that won't make him cringe, laugh, or both. Master, cringe. Lord, lame. Daddy, ick. Boss… possible. Very possible. Still, he doesn't really see what's wrong with just using their names. He's certainly not going to call Loki a dirty little slut anytime soon. He's pretty sure he couldn't deliver that line with a straight face.
"Shall I come to dread the word interesting?" Loki muses, and Tony figures he's let the mood lapse a little too long. Releasing Loki's hair, he pries a hand between them and tugs the wet sheet off of Loki's back and sends it slapping onto the floor. Loki shivers at the sound and the loss of coverage, instinctively curling inward, and it ignites a warm jolt up Tony's spine. The feeling surprises him.
For months the two of them have been fumbling at this puzzle, trying to jam pieces together and make them fit, and Tony supposes he's been looking at it backwards. Maybe he's been too focused on trying to fit Loki's pieces together when he should have been digging around in his own bin, figuring out what he wants out of all this.
It still isn't clear what exactly they are doing, but it seems like he gets off on Loki's reactions. Makes sense. He's always been an empathetic partner. Always enjoyed whatever activity got his partners hot without much thought to his own interests, but this is more than that. This is closer to a need, a hunger to see Loki shed all that stodgy Asgardian dignity and just enjoy himself without shame holding him back. With that in mind, he drags his hand over Loki's chest and down the crease of his leg, neatly avoiding his cock and grinning at the meal of protest it earns him. He pinches a soft spot on his inner thigh and Loki twists in his arms. The zing of satisfaction in his dick affirms the theory well enough for him.
Loki looks like a scarecrow after the loss of the sheet, a bundle of awkward limbs below an uncertain face. Tony places his hands on the slopes of his shoulders and adjusts them, moves them down into a relaxed position that doesn't hunch Loki's chest inwards. Placing one hand on his lower back and the other on his chest, Tony nudges them until Loki's posture is better and he nods, looking him up and down. Walking around to the front, he catches Loki's perplexed eyes.
"Formality." Tony repeats thoughtfully, "It is easier to admit secrets to strangers sometimes, isn't it? You don't care as much about rejection."
Loki casts his eyes around, and Tony snaps a finger in his face.
"Eyes on me. When we're talking I want your full attention."
Loki stands up straighter, automatically, his eyes sharp and vulnerable when they meet Tony's. He seems surprised by his own reaction, and that's kind of cute. It makes up Tony's mind.
"In that case, you can call me Mr. Stark." he says, spreading his mouth in a lazy smirk.
Loki's breath hitches, his red eyes closer to black from his blown out pupils. There aren't words for how it affects Tony, the way his response feels transmitted and amplified by the eye contact.
"Go ahead, try it out." Tony grunts, putting his hands in his pockets and tilting his head expectantly. "Let me hear my name in that posh accent."
"Yes, Mister Stark." Loki murmurs, smooth and sophisticated as champagne. His lips look lovely forming the letters, crisp annunciation doing the sharp consonants justice while elongated vowels soften the normally harsh word into something gentle and cultured. He instantly loves it, wants to hear it again and again. Loki's wide eyes dart down after he says it, and Tony follows fast enough to catch Loki's dick twitch against his stomach.
"Perfect." Tony rasps, taken off guard by his mirrored arousal and the twisted way the words make him feel safe. Like he finally has a grip on this situation.
"Thank you, Mister Stark." Loki says, pleased and flustered. This time when their eyes meet there's a wonderful burning need. Under normal circumstances Tony is pretty abysmal at eye contact. His mind operates at two hundred thoughts per minute and he doesn't usually care to get glimpses of people's souls or whatever the superstition is. It's not so hard with Loki, silently begging as he is. He steps into his space and cups his face, leans in as though to kiss but hovers out of reach.
"And what about you? Who do you want to be?"
Loki licks his lip, ears glowing a dark indigo.
"Yours." Loki whispers, his mouth tight with discomfort but trying so hard to open up. He can see the war in Loki's eyes, the yearning to pour his inhibitions into Tony's hands but also the fear, the certainty that he will be found perverse and disgusting.
"In what way? Mine like an object?"
Loki shudders. "Like a consort. A… most trusted advisor."
Held in retainer Tony recalls. It is a high honor to serve a respected person. Scorching affection burns up Tony's back, lights up his imagination as he finally pieces together what Loki tried to tell him. He wasn't referring to ownership at all, he was talking about service. About being valued and valuable in Tony's eyes. Touched, he draws Loki in and holds their foreheads together, eases one hand around the back of Loki's neck and brushes the tips of their noses.
"My consort. My special one." He says into the secret space they've created between them, trying it out. He's doubly rewarded by the unexpected moan Loki croaks out and the deep flare of possessive energy it sparks in him. Saying it out loud feels powerful, like the word transforms them. A suppressed desire finally named and acknowledged.F
Sliding his right hand the rest of the way around Loki's neck, he claims his lips in a kiss that feels like diving underwater, like the pressure in the room rises higher and higher the deeper he plunges into his waiting mouth. Loki surges under him like a riptide, sliding to his knees and pulling Tony down with him. He stays on his feet, enjoys the heady sensation of being taller for once, of looming over him and invading his mouth from above. Loki follows him when he begins to separate, stretching as high as he can on his knees and whimpering when Tony relents and gives him one more sensual scrape of teeth along his bottom lip. At this rate he might never come up.
"Thank you, thank you-" Loki says breathlessly, his skin hot on Tony's lips. A pang of desire spikes in Tony's gut and he doesn't question it, doesn't try to cut it apart and analyze it. He just accepts that for some reason he wants to hear his shiny new pet name flowing out of those tender, kiss-swollen lips.
"Thank you, what?" he growls, squeezing the back of Loki's neck. Molten red eyes flicker shut, and Loki pants. His mouth slacks open and a look of helpless surrender comes over his face.
He stutters, has to start it twice before it comes out smooth. "Thank you, Mister Stark."
"Fucking perfect." Tony says, shuddering around his own overwhelming arousal. The sudden fascination with Loki's lips doesn't abate, and he finds himself pressing his thumb into them, feeling the way the soft flesh gives way to a warm, wet mouth. He drags his finger down Loki's chin and enjoys the stretch, glides back inside and groans when Loki's tongue swirls around his knuckle.
"Oh don't do that, you're giving me ideas." Tony groans. He can't help but imagine his dick sinking into those lips. Loki pulls off and looks up at him with a wary expression.
"You do it for me all the time." Loki says, fidgeting under Tony's scrutiny and chewing the inside of his cheek. "I owe you."
"Not if it grosses you out-"
"It's not-" Loki sighs. He sits back on his heels and clasps his hands in his lap, thumbs looping around each other in a restless tick.
He regrets bringing it up, but it's also kind of shameful that they've been together this long and he still doesn't know. Loki went down on him a couple of times, way in the beginning. Like, way way in the beginning. The first night and the morning after. It was good, as expertly performed as his kissing, but halfway through the second time Loki ran to the bathroom and they never talked about it again. If Tony could go back now, he'd run after him. Would hold his hand and talk through it. But he can't go back, and he didn't do it then, so now they have to clear these landmines, all the stuff they were too chicken shit to talk about when it happened. A bath water warm hand wraps around Tony's ankle and he looks down at Loki's curled up form.
"It is a memory issue." Loki says, turning his head to look at Tony properly. "One that I wish did not trouble me still."
"Long time ago?"
"Very." Loki nods, nuzzling his nose into Tony's hip.
Tony draws his hand down Loki's hair. "You have a lot of those, don't you?"
"Yes, Mister Stark." Loki whispers, subdued and quietly sad.
The title sounds like a request, in this context. Like he's asking Tony to get back to turning off his brain instead of picking at his scars.
He cups the back of Loki's head, skimming through his damp hair. "Would you like to make that a goal? We can work up to it."
Loki squeezes Tony's ankle, and nods against his leg. So sweet, he didn't know Loki could be like this. Even with enhanced strength it isn't easy to pick up a six foot two Jotun, but Tony manages. He lifts him up around his waist and Loki goes along with it, flushing down to his neck and squeezing his legs around Tony's waist. The warmth of those slender limbs encompassing him is scorching, and he buries his face in Loki's neck while it lasts.
Tossing him on his back, Tony ditches his scrubs and crawls on top. Twining their fingers, he places Loki's arms on the mattress above his head and lays a trail of exploring kisses across his chest. Loki sighs in pleasure, but his dick is limp between his splayed legs.
"We can stop, you don't have to-" Tony says.
"I want to. Please." Loki begs, squeezing Tony's hands, "Make me yours."
Tony lays his lead on Loki's chest. He can hear his heart thumping in there, fast and shallow like the beating of a moth's wings.
"It isn't something that I take, it's something you give to me." Tony says, sucking a dark hickey onto Loki's neck.
"Then let me give it." his partner pleads, rutting up against Tony's cock and clamping his legs around his hips. "Whatever you wish, let me give it."
"And what do you get out of it?" Tony asks, "I'm supposed to be repaying you."
Long pianist fingers press hard into Tony's knuckles. Loki's voice is weak.
"Proof." he says weakly, "Proof that I am pleasing to you. That you desire me."
Tony pulls Loki's hands together so he can hold both wrists with one hand and puts all his weight on them. Loki melts at the restriction, visibly revelling in the loss of agency and Tony sucks on his nipples. For long minutes he licks and grazes his teeth over deep purple buds simply because he wants to, because it breaks down Loki's walls like nothing else.
Loki thrashes, keening and whimpering under Tony's mouth and he grows impatient. Grabbing one knee at a time, he throws Loki's legs over his right shoulder and lines himself up. It isn't anything close to fucking, could not possibly replace the sinful tightness of Loki's most intimate places clenching around him, but it's good. Loki moans at the first brush of Tony's cock along his seam, the teasing slide firm enough to spread his lips but not enough to pleasure him.
It's an utterly selfless kind of sex, doesn't give Loki anything in return and that's why Tony chose it. Loki's eyes go glassy as he realizes his body is being used, turned into a tool for Tony's pleasure, and he clenches his thighs. The added tightness sings down Tony's dick and tears a groan out of him, makes him fuck the wet channel of Loki's folds in longer, harder thrusts. Mouthing at the knee slung over his shoulder, he releases Loki's wrists and shoves his legs sideways into the cot.
"Keep your hands up. Don't let them move." Tony says.
"Yes, Mister Stark." Loki moans, still squeezing his legs as tightly as he can. He looks beautiful, his body twisted by the position in a way that makes his breasts jut out proudly and quiver with every breath. No, beautiful isn't adequate, even if he's called him so in the past. It's too precious, too soft. No part of Loki should be described like flower petals or fine china. He's strong, graceful, built of giant's bones ratcheted together by imperious Asgardian pride. The paths of his brain are a tangled mess but Tony understands the function of Loki's dysfunctions. Ordinary neurons could never hope to contain Loki's indestructible heart or his vicious, punch-drunk soul and that's fucking perfect. Tony loves that. He doesn't have time for anything less than extraordinary.
Loki's face is placid, brows drawn with concentration as he times his contractions to Tony's thrusts. Extraordinary. He thinks he could come from that expression alone, from Loki's clear intent to give, and to receive nothing in return. Again he's caught off-guard by this secret generosity, the gentle soul he never knew was there.
His strokes turn brutal when he realizes there's no reason to hold back. He can't hurt Loki, he can't, it's safe. Abandoning restraint, he slams his hips into Loki's thighs and enjoys the filthy, wet slap of his balls on Loki's ass. The trembling gasps Loki makes are maddening and intoxicating. He moans out every breath as though he's actually getting fucked like an animal and just for a few minutes, in the privacy of his mind, Tony imagines that he is.
It feels amazing to cut loose, to push every ounce of his strength into the act and feel Loki take it, love it, love him. When he comes he doesn't expect it, he's just plowing Loki's ass and chanting mine mine mine into his shoulder and then he's shooting all over Loki's abs. It's the most primal, visceral orgasm of his life and it leaves him reeling.
Releasing Loki's legs, Tony waivers over what to do, to say. As his better judgement returns his gut starts to roll like a boiling pot and he presses cautiously at stiff joints, checks Loki's impossibly long legs and finds finger shaped bruises appearing around his knees.
"Oh god, oh god, are you alright? Did I hurt you?"
"Shut up, shut up." Loki complains, spreading his legs so Tony can lay between them and drawing him into an embrace. Soft lips chew and suck on Tony's ear while Loki humps his leg, sighing and carding his fingers through Tony's hair.
"Don't ruin this." Loki whines, "You stupid oaf, don't you dare ruin this before I come."
All the fear and doubt they chased away comes flooding back, and Tony feels like he belongs in this cell. Like he's a single loose screw away from being one of the fucked up degenerates that he hunts down as Iron Man.
"Anthony." Loki growls in his ear, and it startles him. Shakes him out of his mind.
"What the fuck, Loki, what the fuck." Tony whispers, his pulse skyrocketing as he works himself up to a panic. Loki reads his face and scowls.
"Oh Norns, you are the worst." Loki says, throwing his head back on the mattress and kicking Tony off him, shoving him into the wall. Tony stares at him, feeling even worse. Loki is pissed, glaring at him in frustration and tugging half-heartedly on his cock like he doesn't much care about it anymore.
"Sorry-" Tony says automatically. It just slips out after a lifetime of disappointing people. The look gives Loki pause and he rolls his eyes, shuffling to the edge of the bed to make room. Grabbing Tony by the scruff, he yanks him onto the cot and straddles his waist. His sharp nailed fingers hold Tony firmly by the chin.
"You imbecile, you've done nothing wrong beyond ruin a perfectly good orgasm."
"I don't know what just happened." Tony says, wide eyed.
"You enjoyed yourself immensely and no harm was done." Loki replies, "I am well, you are well, it is fine."
"Shit you're mad a me again. I'm already screwing this up."
"And you will again in the future. I pardon you on both counts." Loki sighs, his free hand coming to jerk lightly at his dick, "Now get me off, won't you?"
Tony can't help but laugh at Loki's irreverence, at his pendulum swing from paralyzing inhibition to frustrated profanity. Changes in behavior he thinks, and nudges Loki to sit on his face.
The scent of him invades Tony's nose and he groans, laving wide licks over his folds and inviting Loki to seat himself with a touch to his ass. The sensation of being surrounded by Loki settles him, and the practiced motions of eating out give him something else to focus on while he absorbs what just happened. It takes a few toe-curling licks for Loki to start rubbing in earnest, but when he does everything gets more intense and more enthralling. Loki makes all Tony's favorite noises and trembles when he circles his cock with his fist and strokes his leaking slit.
"Oh, Tony-" he moans, undulating wildly as his body tenses and arches. "Norns, I'm close."
Do it, come for me he would say, if he wasn't happily suffocating. Instead he jerks rough and fast at the cock in his hand and holds his breath while Loki clenches and yelps. When the final waves of orgasm settle, Tony feels gloriously filthy. Licking at the mess he made of Loki's entrance, he sucks at the base of his cock just a bit longer and hums into the skin. He can't explain it, but he never feels more intimate with Loki than this, not even when other parts of him are buried inside. Loki pets him fondly and separates himself, grimacing at the glistening sheen he leaves on Tony's cheeks. He grins up at him.
"What do you think, are we even?" Tony croaks.
"Just so." Loki whispers, trailing his fingers down Tony's face and hesitating before continuing down to his beard. He wrinkles his nose but stays there, considering.
"It seems we are more perverse than even we knew." Loki drawls. His lip twists, and Tony wonders why. Then he bends forward and kisses Tony, very quickly but with sincerity, pussy juices and all. Tony thinks he might keel over and die right there.