Author's note: And now – The Bed! :D
Alright, so this is definitely awkward. He stares at the bed-big-enough-for-two, whimsically hoping it's been enchanted with some kind of Harry Potter-esque magic that will grant people their innermost wishes and subsequently transform the lumbering thing into two separate entities.
Of course, nothing happens. The bed stubbornly remains in its current state of one-ness.
A quick look around makes it clear that there's nothing else that could serve as decent make-shift sleeping arrangements either; sure there's a couch-like thingy lining one of the walls, but it's too narrow and curved for a person to sleep in unless they wouldn't mind waking up with a stiff neck on the floor fifteen minutes after falling asleep.
Great.
And he doesn't want to even consider the underlying implications of the bed, doesn't want to touch the inferences that could be drawn with a ten-mile pole as to why these particular sleeping arrangements have been offered.
Or maybe, he tries to tell himself, Loki is expected to sleep on the floor because he's a slave, and the bed, big as might be, is meant just for Tony. And it's saying quite a lot that that is actually the least disturbing interpretation he can think of.
Grimacing, he throws a glance at Loki, who is occupied studying a garish painting on the wall.
"Uh, so… which side do you prefer? Left or right?" he asks, trying to be flippant to ease his own discomfort, like this is totally normal. But there's no way he's going to have Loki sleep on the floor, as awkward as this will be.
Loki cocks his head to the side, as he turns to look at Tony. "I don't have a preference; either side is fine."
And as Tony eyes the bed in front of him, he is suddenly struck by how easy it would be for him to take advantage of this situation to… do things to Loki. And he desperately hopes that the god isn't harbouring any such concerns, given who he's going to have to share a bed with, even though he doesn't look worried as far as Tony can tell. He did make it clear to Loki that one very embarrassing time that he wasn't going to do anything like that, but since then he hasn't breached the subject again.
And to be honest, he has no desire to breach it again and bring the whole awkward deal back into the light when he's been trying to let it die of negligence, what with him getting horny over a simple foot massage performed by the god of mischief himself and all that followed. Rather, he'd prefer to act as if that little incident never happened, and that Loki never made those subsequent assumptions about how things were going to play themselves out between the two of them.
Still, he should say something, reassure the god in some way, while preferably touching on those events as little as possible.
"Alright, then," he says, hoping he's sounding casual. "Since we're going to be sharing a bed, there needs to be some rules and restrictions drawn out. I don't want any flailing limbs in my face or nightly kicks to the stomach, so you keep to your side and I'll keep to mine, okay?"
Stepping forward to the foot end of the bed, he places a finger on the middle of the mattress edge, and then leans over to trace a line towards the head end, as far as he can reach without falling over. The pressure of his finger leaves a shallow indenture in the cover, indicating their separate territories.
It is of course no real barrier at all, but an imagined one is at least better than none.
He straightens up, pretending to admire his little handiwork, the dent in the cover temporarily splitting the bed into two equal halves.
"That's the line right there," he says casually with a wiggle of his fingers, "and don't you even think about crossing it. I want a peaceful night's sleep without being disturbed by straying elbows or drifting knees or wandering feet."
As if that's really the issue at stake, given his previous reaction to Loki. But it should hopefully serve to set the god's mind at ease, if he should harbour any suspicions that Tony might consider taking advantage when presented with such an excellent opportunity, being among people who would only think he exercised liberties rightly belonging to him. He's indirectly made the situation clear without actually addressing the embarrassing subject that made it all necessary in the first place, and the underlying point should be obvious – there will be no crossing the line separating the two bed halves, and that includes Tony.
"Point taken," the god says, and it even looks like he's smiling slightly, which is a good sign. "I will keep to my side."
And Tony lets his mind settle with that, glad no further assurances seem necessary.
Rummaging around in his duffle bag, he digs out his toothbrush and toothpaste and starts brushing away, relived to move on to more prosaic things. Loki, on his hand, forgoing such petty hygiene procedures, begins to undress for bed, as unabashed as ever. Tony casually turns his back, pretending to be looking out the window though for all he can see in the darkness there might as well have been a piece of black cardboard covering the glass pane.
As he stands there, swishing the toothbrush around, his wandering thoughts once more return to churn through the previous events of the day. He's still in a pretty foul mood, and revisiting those memories isn't exactly helping. It still disgusts and angers him how slaves are treated here, what is expected that their masters will do to them, to say nothing of the creepy fuck Geir's propositioning. At least he's glad the bastard never made his suggestion within earshot of Loki. Luckily, Loki hasn't asked him what Geir wanted, and he sure as hell isn't going to tell him. If he asks later on, he will just make something up. He just can't believe how shit like this can be acceptable, and among a race that considers itself to be above humanity, no less.
Having finished his dental care, he heads back to the bed. Loki is sitting up leaning against the headboard, cover drawn up halfway to his chest, eyeing him pensively.
"Are you still upset because of my actions earlier today?" he asks as Tony grabs the hem of his shirt, about to undress for a good night's sleep.
Suddenly realizing his shoulders are drawn up to what must be at least a couple of inches higher than normal and his jaws clenched like he's trying to crack a walnut between his teeth, Tony wills himself to relax.
"Upset, yes," he admits. "But not because of your actions. Because of everyone else's actions. How this… crap can be okay."
"It's what happens with slaves who don't act like they're supposed to," Loki says evenly, not looking at Tony.
He rubs his hands over his face. "Yeah, so I've realized. And I said it before, but I'll say it again – if there's a risk of you getting into trouble again by not adhering to the way things are done here, then just fall in line with whatever Asgard expects. Just... for show."
Loki nods, and Tony sure hopes that tomorrow will be a more glorious day. Looking back on low-water mark that has been today, it's hard to imagine it getting any worse.
He sighs in contentment as he crawls down between the sheets after what must be one of the longest days of his life. The bed is soft and inviting and he's half asleep before he has even managed to pull the cover up.
Tony might have dozed off the instant his head hit the pillow, but Loki is still awake, listening to the man softly snoring somewhere behind his back.
He could tell how taken aback Tony had been at the sight of the large single bed, intended to offer him the choice of either having his slave sleep on the floor or sharing his bed, depending on his wishes for the night. As if it hadn't quite yet sunken in how things are done here in Asgard, despite all that had transpired.
He doubts that Thor at all considered this when he asked Ingvar to show them to a proper room. The Thunderer is just too thoughtless to think twice about bedding arrangements. Loki, on his hand, had seen it coming from a mile away, of course, even though it had taken Tony by surprise.
Tony. His mind travels back to the earlier events of the day, but this time it isn't the incident with Fjalar, but the scene of Geir pulling Tony aside to discuss a 'private' matter.
Of course, Loki knows exactly what Geir asked of Tony. He knows the man, knows the way his tastes run, and has even been propositioned by him twice, even if it was a couple of centuries ago since last time. Again, Thor was totally clueless, but Loki was well aware just what the glint in the man's eyes meant as he stepped out from the shadows to approach Tony.
He already knew without even the slightest of doubts that Tony would turn down the man's proposal, so he was never worried as the two walked off, despite the lurch of disgust that settled in the pit of his stomach. No, Tony would never let someone take advantage of or hurt him in any way. He wouldn't, because he… cares.
Behind him, he can hear Tony starting to move around in his sleep, slowly at first, but then more insistently until he's practically tossing between the sheets. He's apparently having some kind of dream, and just what kind is clear from the grinding movements and the unsubtle moans escaping the man's lips.
Between those moans, Loki can hear the sound of his own name.
An instant later, the sleeping lump that is Tony rolls over and comes to rest against Loki, an arm automatically wrapping itself around his body.
And Loki doesn't mind that.
As the body behind him shifts, he can feel Tony's erection pressing against him.
And Loki doesn't mind that either.
A few breaths later, Tony moans softly again, grinding himself a little into Loki's back.
And Loki can feel something stir in his own groin.
He's having a dream, and it's one of those dreams where you're almost aware that you're dreaming, but not quite.
There is a body tightly pressed against his, their limbs entwined.
And so, he reaches out and runs a hand through dark hair, letting the surprisingly soft strands slip between his fingers.
In response, a pair of arms reach out to wrap around his waist, and then hands are wantonly stroking along his sides, over his back and chest. He gasps at the sensations, pulling the other body closer to his, desperate for further, even more intimate touches.
As if reading his lustful thoughts, a hand slips down to his groin, wrapping around his erection and stroking it insistently. He bucks up and into the touch, groaning in heady pleasure.
They tumble, wrapped into each other, and when they come to a stop, he is on top. Drawing his breath in at the sight of the attractive, lean body pinned beneath his, he leans down to run his tongue down the toned chest, across the flat stomach and further downwards still, following the thin string of soft, dark hair beneath the navel…
He awakes with a startle, at first not sure where he is, but then slowly remembering.
He's in Asgard.
It's dark in the room, the fire having gone out what must be hours ago. Tony's arm is still wrapped around him, his body pressed tightly against his back, the man himself soundly asleep and softly drooling on Loki's shoulder.
Lying still for a few moments, listening to the breaths in the otherwise silent room, Loki places his palm atop the hand loosely resting on his chest, intertwining their fingers.
All hail The Bed!
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