Author's note: For those who were wondering, the talk in the previous chapter shall turn out to come into play already in this one… ^^

Tony suppresses a yawn as the end credits are finally rolling by on the screen before him; he should have realized beforehand that a movie containing both the words "ultimate" and "vengeance" in the title would turn out to be shitty.

He reaches for the remote, something he should have done a long time ago, but for some reason he still decided to sit this sorry excuse for a movie out until the bitter end, despite being on the verge of falling asleep more than once.

Speaking of falling asleep, there's someone else right next to him who has obviously done just that. Someone who has imperceptibly drifted closer and closer, until his head only a moment ago came to rest on Tony's chest like he's some kind of fluffy pillow.

He looks down at the mop of black hair, wincing. It's an awkward position to fall asleep in to be sure, and he should just rustle Loki awake even if the god will no doubt be terribly embarrassed finding himself like this, and he groans inwardly at the awkwardness that is bound to follow.

Though, if he's lucky, maybe he can gently push Loki upright without waking him and arrange him into a proper sitting position so that the god will be none the wiser when he wakes up.

He reaches out a hand for Loki's shoulder, hoping he can carefully disentangle their bodies before Loki realizes what has transpired. A part of him is protesting this action, wanting to first take a moment to revel in the illusion that Loki is indeed very much awake and aware, having wilfully nuzzled up to him like this and sought the close proximity out by his own volition.

If only.

And just then, Loki stirs. Not much, just a slight shift in the body pressed close against his, but it's enough to startle Tony who is a mere fraction of a second away from pushing Loki off with perhaps a bit more force than necessary, when he freezes, unable to move at all.

Because there is suddenly a hand travelling up beneath his T-shirt to languidly trail over his abs, a smooth palm rubbing over his skin in a gentle caress. And it's not just any casual touch, but one undeniably and decidedly seductive, as the body leans in a little closer, snuggling up to Tony like a cat.

For a moment he can only sit there in horrified disbelief, too taken aback to move. So Loki still thinks that Tony expects this shit from him, despite his having made it clear, and more than once, even, that this is most definitely not in the contract? This is so many shades of wrong, and it stirs up all those feelings of revulsion and horror he remembers so well from Asgard when realizing just what kind of lives slaves are living there; what kind of degradations they have no choice but submitting to. What Loki had expected Tony to do to him when he came to his tower. As if all that was okay. As if things like that could ever be okay.

And for some fucked-up reason that he can't even begin to unravel, Loki still seems to believe that he owes Tony this.

God-fucking-damnit.

His temporary paralyzes lets up, then, and he snaps like a spring suddenly released. More forcefully than he intended, he grabs hold of Loki's wrists to push them away, the sudden movement making them both loose their balance and tumble over so that Loki ends up flat on his back, Tony pinning the god's wrists down to either side of his head and straddling the lean body beneath his own.

And damn, that was not the position he had been aiming for.

He blinks a few times, not quite sure what just happened. Mere seconds ago, he was lying comfortably snuggled up against Tony, about to move onto more interesting things, when the man suddenly grabbed him and pushed him flat onto his back, pinning his wrists down.

Looking up into the brown eyes hovering above his, he can immediately tell that they're not pleased in the slightest, as if Loki has done something Terribly Wrong rather than inviting something he knows that Tony wants from him. And he can't for the life of him make sense of that reaction, because he is fully aware, without the shadow of a doubt, what it is that Tony desires. And he doesn't like it one bit; he thought he had come to understand the man by now after so many misunderstandings.

Tony quickly lets go of his wrists and sits back up on his haunches, still not looking happy. "In case you haven't noticed, we're not in Asgard anymore," he says sharply with animated hand gestures to underline every syllable. "You don't have to act out this fucking facade any longer. And just what part of this isn't expected from you was it that you didn't understand when I explained it to you last time? Huh? Why do you keep doing this?" The last few words are almost yelled in apparent frustration.

And as Loki gingerly scrambles himself up into a sitting position, realization dawns. Suddenly, it is all making sense as the far-strewn pieces of the puzzle are finally congregating, clicking into place.

Tony thinks he's merely pretending interest, because this is how slaves are supposed to behave in regards to their masters. Somehow, Tony has failed to pick up on what Loki had assumed was fully obvious and far beyond doubt at this point – that Loki actually desires him. All those clues so liberally sprinkled, and Tony had in his preconceived notions managed to miss out on every single one of them. The absurdity makes a bubble of laughter rise in his throat, but he pushes it back down. He gets the feeling that laughing is not the proper reaction right now.

The idea that Tony somehow should believe that Loki doesn't actually want him, that it's all a show he's putting on, is almost farcical, but it definitely puts things into a new perspective that makes a lot of things suddenly make sense. Yes, it all comes together now – the incident in the Asgardian baths, Tony's indifference to him when they had shared a bed, his failure to pick up on Loki's unspoken desire that they proceed further.

And throughout all of this, Loki had been so sure that he had interpreted the situation correctly, and now it turns out that Tony had been totally oblivious all along to what Loki had been feeling and attempting. Oh, the irony.

He studies the man sitting there, his posture and expression oddly reminiscent of a wet poodle. Most of all, he would have liked to whisk that sad expression off with a caress of his hand, but he is well aware that such an action might not go over well right now and he would be better off using his words this time.

"I see now. You are under the impression that I am merely pretending all this, that I do not harbour any real desire for you and it's all a show I'm putting on," he says, and the look on Tony's face makes it perfectly clear that his assumptions are correct. Well, he figured that much.

"Let me I assure you, then, that nothing could be further from the truth," he continues, leaning back against the armrest, amazed that he actually has to spell things out like this. He doesn't remember any of his previous partners ever being so slow on the uptake when he had showed an interest in them. "Because I do desire you greatly, Tony. Why do you at all think I decided to touch you so intimately in the Asgardian baths, full well knowing you would not want an unwilling bed partner? Did you really think I merely did so because it was what a slave was expected to do? That I did not do so fully out of my own volition when seeing your naked body displayed before me like that?"

As his words sink in, he can almost see something visibly shift in the man's face, as if a possibility that he has never even entertained is suddenly brought out for evaluation and careful consideration. And suddenly Tony doesn't look so certain anymore, like there has been a seed of doubt planted in his carefully laid out model of how the world works, or at least how he thinks it is supposed to work.

And Loki is determined to let that seed bloom out into a fully grown tree.

It's like his whole world has been turned upside down in an instant, and all from a few words from the god before him. Truth be told, he had never even considered this, not even once entertained the possibility that Loki might feel any sort of attraction towards him. Not after all that has happened, not after his initial expectations, not after… everything. It just couldn't be possible. He had sure imagined it – lots of times, even – but never deluded himself into thinking that those daydreams were anything more than mere fantasies. But now Loki is sitting here right in front of him telling him that…

A part of him – a part far below his brain – is rejoicing, whispering to him, isn't this what you've always wanted, but his bigger head cannot acquiesce so easily. It just can't happen, there is no way Loki could have any such feelings for him, it's just not possible.

No. Loki even contemplated killing himself over those expectations of Tony… doing things to him. Of course, it was a long time ago, and surely everything has changed to be unrecognizable in comparison to the sad state of things back then, but still…

But could it truly be as Loki says? That he does desire Tony? There is no discernable reason for the god to lie, nothing for him to gain by pretending. But the thought is staggering – had he really grown an attraction to Tony somewhere along the way, ending with him coming onto him so no-nonsensely in the bath house, while Tony had been so certain that the god would shudder at the mere idea of touching him in any sexual way whatsoever?

That doesn't make sense, does it?

"But you even said so yourself, when I asked you about it, right after we came back to my tower," he manages, voice sounding choked and flustered in his own ears, "that when you… touched me back then it was only something you did because it was ingrained Asgardian behaviour?"

Loki stares at him in silence for several long seconds, and then his face shifts as if there is some kind of insight coming to life inside of his head.

"I never said any of the sorts," the god counters decisively. "I thought you were talking about the general aspects of how I had been behaving as would be expected of a slave in Asgard. Not what happened in the baths."

"Oh." The dumb-founded syllable sounds as stupid as Tony is feeling.

"But why? Why… me? Why would you feel any attraction to me?" he asks, and it's so bizarre hearing those words from his own lips. Never before has he questioned why someone would be attracted to him. No, not him, the great Tony Stark, with more admirers than he could shake a pointy stick at. Desire levelled into his direction had always been something he had taken for granted, never stopping to consider it further. But hearing such a statement from Loki's lips is just unfathomable.

"Why not?" Loki asks, moving slightly closer. "You have shown me kindness, concern, consideration, compassion, thoughtfulness, anything anyone could ever ask from a partner." A short pause, during which Loki's lips tug upward in a smile. "And as if all that was not enough, you are also highly… pleasing to the eye, even by the standards of a god."

Whoa. Well, he can't really argue the last part, and he supposes the first part is sorta true as well. He does care for Loki, very much so, and despite the miserable start they got off on, he likes to think that he has made up for his deplorable and careless behaviour since.

But be that as it may, there is still something else, an unchangeable state of things. And that is what's holding him back, why he can't just simply accept this, much as he would have liked to.

"I can't say that I'm not… flattered," he manages, knowing it's a stupid word to use to describe his feelings, but it will have to do. There are more important matters to address here. "But there's still the not-so-little detail that you're technically my slave, Loki. And major power differences like that generally don't make for free and unaffected decisions. Or good… relationships. How could I possibly do something like this in good conscience? You know, I might not have gone through life with very many inhibitions or second thoughts when it comes to sexual stuff, but this is just on a totally different scale. Because no matter how you choose to look at it, you're still my freaking slave." Maybe he's rambling, but whatever; he couldn't care less right now.

Loki doesn't move from the spot, but he cocks an eyebrow into Tony's direction.

"Well, that's strange, because I remember very well how you told me the other day that you didn't consider me your slave? That you would never look upon me as if I were?" he challenges, voice even and yet pointed.

Tony grimaces at his words coming back to bite him in the ass, twisting in his seat. "Well yeah, but…" True, he doesn't consider Loki his slave, but… there's always the 'but'.

As his words trail off, Loki pushes on. "And you also said that here in Midgard, everyone is free to make choices for themselves, as opposed to having them forced upon their heads by other people." He makes a slight pause, watching Tony's face. "So consider this to be my choice. You are my choice. And if you truly meant all the pretty things you said to me about your Midgardian rights, if they were not merely empty words without substance, if you truly do not see me as a slave, then you will let me have this choice – the choice of a free man."

And wow, is the Silvertongue ever back in action. Making him look like a hypocrite, saying one thing but not really meaning it when push comes to shove.

"When, Loki?" he asks, knowing he has to hear the answer. "When did you start to see me… in this way?"

Loki looks away for a while, as if reminiscing. Then, his gaze returns to Tony again. "I guess it grew slowly. I'm not even sure when it began. But I can say with certainty, when we were sharing that bed in Asgard, and you rutted against me in your sleep, moaning my name as you did, I did not feel any discomfort whatsoever, only desire."

Tony can feel his eyes growing wide as saucers as his mouth falls open. "I did what?"

Loki grins, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "You seemed to be having a very, should I say, pleasurable dream. And not long after, it turned out I had one myself, with you in the starring role."

Oh fuck. His groin twists at that, and his mouth has suddenly gone very dry. Loki, harbouring that kind of dream about him?

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" The question hangs in the air for a while, so oddly discrepant. Loki, desiring him, wanting him, dreaming about him… He barely even notices the nod that Loki gives in response.

And maybe he shouldn't, maybe it's not right, but so help him all the powers of the universe, he can't stop himself. It's like his body is moving by its own volition as it slowly leans forward until their faces are only inches apart. But as he can feel Loki's body heat radiating from his skin, he freezes in place, as if intercepted by an invisible wall, hesitant to go any further.

It's Loki who closes the remaining distance between them, as he brushes his lips against Tony's in something that is almost too soft to be called a kiss, but it doesn't matter. It makes his whole body shudder nevertheless and tingles of electricity shoot across his skin.

And as they kiss again, Loki's arms reaching up to encircle his neck, he can't help but think of that old cliché about how something that feels this good could never truly be wrong.

Aww, look at that, their first kiss... Well, I sure do hope you don't think it happened too soon.

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*ducks bricks*

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