This is for Kazulallan: I appreciate your enthusiasm! And do not worry! I have this ALL written out, just needs to be typed up, so be prepared for me bombing up your email/phone/other message receiving device! ;P

Did I put in a warning for language? No? Well, language gets bad-starting...now! (almost M level-does 3 F-bombs up it like R movies...?) Also, cheesy chapter titles are cheesy from this moment on. So beware. E&R!

Chapter One: Getting Into the Swing of Things

Tony was puttering around with a few toys after their most recent encounter with Loki, god of making his life interesting. He hated to say it, but he was actually really enjoying the stupid game they were playing and it certainly felt odd saying it-even if it was in his head. Although, now that he was starting to enjoy it, his team was beginning to ruin their fun. Hence, his slightly more harsh handling of the mechanical objects in front of him.

"Shit," he muttered as the darn thing exploded its oil fluid insides all over him and his bench. Thankfully it was a rather small burst and mostly dirtied his hands and tools. He swiped a white towel he kept nearby to clean up.

"I must say, I was quite disappointed with your warrior-troop showing up as they did," said the silky voice whose body was mysteriously forming out of shadows of his working lab area in the Avengers HQ. "Things were just getting...fun," the now fully formed body of Loki spoke, practically echoing everything the human had just thought.

"Sir, I am sure it has not escaped your notice exactly who has appeared. Shall I sound the alarm?" Tony casually put down the tools he was cleaning and wiped his hands free of mechanical juices.

"Actually, Jarvis, so long as he's in the as me room as me, Loki's a guest. Just make sure he's not accessing the mainframe at any time," he added, just to be safe.

"If you say so, sir," his AI butler merely said and signed off vocal abilities.

Loki mused appreciatively. "Clever. But did you really believe that I would try, if that was what I was after, and let you stop me?"

Tony pretended to think about it. "No, not really. Of course, that's merely a precaution since your presence has gotten much more tolerable as of late," he finished with a little grin.

"I'm flattered," his guest, if one was allowing such a liberal use of the word, dead-panned as he wiped a finger over the metal workbench and slowly circled his way to Tony. Everything about him was radiating mischief. And Tony was intrigued by it.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked, ever the hospitable host, trying to rein in his urge to brush a loose lock firmly behind the god's ear. It was an old habit of his; throw some witty words, splash a little alcohol, maybe flash his money and/or fame, make the hair move and, bam, whoever it was was his for the taking. Sharp eyes caught his focus.

"Please, you owe me owe since our first encounter on a true battlefield anyways," he said elegantly. It would make sense, after all, he was a Prince of Asgard.

"That is true," Tony agreed. "Although, I'm sure that I should be pointing out that it was a rhetorical suggestion at best, stalling technique at worst, so I'm afraid my offer was entirely insincere. Do you have a preference?" he asked lifting the three bottles he had stashed around here and Pepper hadn't found. Yet.

"And I was beginning to think you liked me," Loki said, making himself comfortable on the edge of his workbench. Apparently chairs were too commonplace. But at least Tony looked in time to see a glimpse of that pale, lithe, toned body hidden under all those layers stretch languidly with a sigh out of that mouth of his. He swallowed. "I'm sure you have nothing I am accustomed to, so do not try yourself too hard at pleasing me with your concoctions," he continued with only a hint of arrogance as if nothing had happened in that space of time.

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, pouring a scotch for himself, after a beat.

"No," Loki chuckled. It was a warm, dark sound that seemed to be stuck in his throat. Much milder than any supervillian's he had seen portrayed on TV. But then again, they were cartoons and this was real life. If he wasn't dreaming this all up, again. Loki liked to invade his dreams and pull shit like that. He couldn't look at oranges the same again. Or horses. Not that he had been a big fan of them before. "You love them too much and I do not fancy becoming inebriated tonight. I'll have whatever you're having,"

Tony smirked, filling another glass of the same to bring over. "I only aim to please. Ice?"

"I am quite aware of that," he drawled, eyes sparkling with amusement. Tony suddenly felt hot as he handed his guest his drink. "And, no. I prefer mine...chilled," His fingers slid over Tony's as he accepted the container, brushing the human's skin softly with an icy chill; it was like a feather of snow drifted across. He shivered, shutting his eyes as the cracking of the abused glass echoed in the room from the sudden coldness.

"And you, Stark? How do you like yours?" his smooth voice was now at his ear, icy breath inside numbing it. God, if that was true, why did it feel like the hottest part of him, then? This wasn't supposed to be happening, not like this, and he had-

Loki's fingers curled around his jaw, pressing into the bone the coolness of his touch. He opened his eyes to the allure of his enchanting green ones. "I only aim to please," he simpered in a half-mocking tone. "But it is your turn, after all, I must follow your advances," he leaned in even closer and how the hell could that be true? Tony gripped the hip bones of the body practically melded against him with his free hand for some support to stay upright, damn his knees.

"This may be the only time you shall find me so subservient to you. I suggest you take it," His words were a whispered promise full of sweet and delicious things if Tony would only say yes to him. But what was the price of the god of mischief's pleasure? His soul? His mind?

His heart?

"Oh, I know, and I will," he quickly assured him-what could he say, he was an impulsive man-turning to brush his nose against the skin of his cheek. "Believe me, I will, but let me savour this for a moment,"

"I thought Ironman was a man of action," Loki murmured, locking eyes with him in challenge.

Well. If that's how he wanted to play.

Tony wiped his workbench clear of scattered diagrams and pieces of scrap metal, dropping his scotch with a satisfying crash on the floor in favour of plopping the god back on it forcefully. There will be more tumblers, and even more vintage scotch, but Loki was not so frequent a commodity. "I can do that," he grinned over him, turning unabashedly into a pleased semi-leer. "Would you like my action to take place here or in the comfort of my bedroom? I don't imagine metal workbenches are that luxurious, even for a god,"

"You are offering me a choice?" Loki gasped, blinking with a strange intensity. Tony found he didn't like it. At all.

"I don't know what you've heard, but I have a rep for mutually, kick-ass awesome, consensual sex and nothing less," he said with minimal frowning. Loki still looked like he suspected Tony of pulling the rug from underneath him any minute now. His frown deepened to very unhappy levels. "Loki, tell me that no one forced you-"

"Never," he hissed venomously. "As if there was one such being to force a god to do anything he did not want, much less me. I am the one forcing others to do my bidding. Perhaps you have heard tales of my silver tongue?"

"Oh, yes," he joined the sorcerer on the table, pining him there beneath him. "I look forward to witnessing it first hand,"

"Mm," he breathed, raising his hands to above his head in a very submissive gesture. Tony found it very pleasing to see. "You won't be disappointed,"

His tongue in question flickered out playfully across his lips. "I'll have you know, it isn't the only...flexible thing about me,"

"Oh, god," Tony whimpered, brain torturing him with all the visual ways he processed that information, muffling his face into Loki's chest.

"Praying to me already?" he tsked. "What little stamina you have, and we haven't even started the really fun part yet,"

Tony picked his head up at that. "Since, by the time I finish my tag of fucking you senseless, we both won't know how many points we've got, I'll give you 125 now for participating; 5 for me for declaring my tag, 50 for upping the stakes and 200 for my awesome sex skills underneath everybody's noses,"

"Fair enough," he shrugged, willing to expedite the process by not quibbling over the details.

"Now, you have five seconds to make your choice: here, or there?"

Loki pulled Tony by the hips into his groin, rubbing against his erection like he was in heat. Tony groaned pleasantly. "Here. I want you to fuck me hard over this surface,"

"I like the way you think," Tony purred half-delirious with lust.