When Tony opens the door for room service and it takes four guys holding two trays each to bring it all in, and he watches them while sprawled in a purple wing back chair in an ill fitting turquoise vest smoking one of Loki's cigarettes, it occurs to Tony that this isn't how one night stands are supposed to go.

As he lays on his stomach elbow deep in syrup and pancakes, surrounded by a sea of silver platters, and he looks up at Loki, whose lounging on the bed in a kimono telling someone to 'Get another ticket for New Orleans', Tony has a feeling that this really isn't how one night stands are supposed to go.

"New Orleans?" Asks Tony.

"Our next gig. Part of the tour." Asks Loki and he holds out his hand for Tony's cigarette. Tony obliges. "Seventeen cities. Sold out in thirteen of them already. My act's hotter than the devil's left testicle, right about now."

Loki breathes smoke into Tony's face and he inhales around his pancake.

"Ever been to New Orleans?"

Tony has.

"No." Says Tony and Loki's grin is joyful and nearly contagious.

"Well, we're going to get you nice and familiar."

Tony knows he recognizes those words but the memory slips through his fingers. When Loki laughs he does too.

"Also, I know I call you 'puppy', but must you be such a literalist? Sit on a chair at least."

Tony responds by smashing his face into his plate and emerging with almost more than he can chew.

"Can you even taste what you're swallowing?" Loki's voice falls somewhere between motherly and obscene that Tony decides to not even take the time to be confused about how aroused it makes him. In his book, any aroused is good aroused.

Tony downs the pancake with a gulp of milk and sighs happily. He looks up at the kimono-clad rock god through his eyelashes.

"Always." He says and the way Loki's eyes darken nearly makes him drop his fork.

"Aren't you just to die for?" Loki says and holds out a hand. Tony knocks over two glasses of orange juice and a mug of coffee on his way to the bed.

Loki unbuttons his vest slowly and begins to drag his long fake nails over Tony's skin. The hand without the nails plays with his hair.

"About last night," He begins as a jagged edge on his pinky catches the rim of Tony's naval. "After you fell asleep I still needed a little something. And I don't jerk it, baby. Ever. That's why the interloper was here. Originally you were on the other side of the bed. How you ended up between us is one of life's great mysteries."

The golden wonders of a life where you never have to masturbate, because there's someone waiting to take care of your every boner, goes beyond any amount of spoiling that Tony has ever experienced.

His mouth is actually watering.

"I wouldn't let anyone touch you. No one touches you but me."

Tony is confused, because the look in Loki's eyes is terrifying but he can feel his cock twitch, like the man had been speaking specifically to it and its answering back.

"Do you understand, Baby? I'm going to savor you. You're mine, and no one touches my stuff."

Tony nods because what else can he do? There's a hand stroking at his quickly stiffening cock. He groans.

"That's right. I sing for them all. But you sing for me."

Tony pants as he starts to leak all over Loki's fist.

"Going to cum all over my vest, baby? It's designer. Expensive. Dry clean only. I'm going to have you deliver it to the cleaners for me. Hand them over my vest drenched in your own dried cum. They'll know as well as you how it got there. Your entire body will turn positively pink with—"

And Tony cums with a shout and he swears for a second he loses consciousness.

When he regains it he realizes that he has to get better at recovering, because Loki's standing up in his kimono, perfectly unruffled and at ease with a cigarette dangling between his fingers talking to a small man with a gigantic mustache.

Tony is laying half naked and flaccid on a bed with his own cum cooling on his stomach.

Despite being notoriously shameless, even he has limits. With a cat like screech he tries to wrap himself in sheets and only ends up throwing himself onto the floor.

When he looks up Loki downturned look is fond and the petit man looks less than impressed.

"So, how many colors do you think saxophones come in?" He asks and both Loki and the man, who Tony suddenly remembers is Loki's driver, look incredibly confused.

"What? It's the city of Jazz. Isn't a saxophone in every color some kind of law?"

The driver looks offended on the behalf of saxophones everywhere. Loki looks positively charmed.

"They're saxophones. Not crayons."

"Bull shit, I want a red and gold one."

"Can you play?"

"If I had a red and gold saxophone I'd learn real—"

"Gentlemen, we've got a plane to catch." Says George and Tony wonders if he could make it anymore obvious how much he doesn't like him.

So, I think I'm going to do this thing where if people make a specific comment that I can answer or ask a specific question I'll answer you in your own little jawn but if like five people just give compliments I'll thank you simultaneously, because I feel like it's kind of redundant to type thank you 9000 times.

Would anyone be terribly offended by this? I think that it's not particularly rude and makes sense, but I don't want you to think that I'm not grateful for your feedback, because it really does inspire me to write more and faster and just enjoy the ride.

LouiseJedicated: Spoiler Alert: Any and all characters in this story are actually me. But I mean, he can be whoever you want him to be. I don't like to decided things for people, man. And thank you so much!

Jojo: Tony is only 19. He didn't even know what gay sex was until he showed up, man. In 1973 gay sex was not something with an internet fandom of millions, which is pretty much the only reason I'm glad I was born in the 90's. All though, if I had to choose between all of the gay sex I could ever ask for and seeing Bowie's Station to Station tour in 76 I might have a serious existential crisis.

BlackStormsShadow: You hipster. (But I love you anyway bc you were my first fan and the bond we have is sacred. And sensual) I actually stole that line from a Mighty Boosh Episode. The Mighty Boosh is my other other favorite thing. And your mom sounds like a boss. ALSO: DID YOU LISTEN TO THAT BOWIE PLAYLIST I MADE FOR YOU? I HAVE ESSENTIALLY PROPOSED MARRIAGE TO YOU VIA SPOTIFY AND IF YOU DO NOT ACCEPT YOU WILL HAVE COMMITTED HOMICIDE ON MY FEELS. FEELICIDE. Do you want that on your conscience, woman?

Thank you to everyone else for your kind words! And for reading! Thanks for sticking with me too. All said and done, this thing is probably going to be around 200-250 pages long. I also don't have a beta, so I edit everything myself. Basically I'm gonna need all of the encouragement I can get. :)