Loki lay perched on the headboard of Tony's bed. There wasn't enough room, so part of him inhabited the wall. This would have looked odd if Tony had been able to see him. But moving the molecules of his body in an erratic pattern to fool the eye of both living beings and electronic Midgardian devices was an art he'd perfected in his youth; he couldn't do it indefinitely, but long enough to suit his purposes, usually.

For now, he simply wanted to observe Stark in the light of this newfound situation. The billionaire was handsome, he had to give him that. He had a boyish quality about him that was quite appealing as well, although there was nothing boyish about what he'd done to Loki's willing body earlier that evening. In spite of Loki's taunts, he'd been impressed with Stark's ability to fuck him into a state of absolute uselessness.

Now, the man was sound asleep, lying chilled and naked on top of the wrecked covers, the infernal television machine blasting some idiotic sales pitch for some idiotic product that was probably actually dangerous to the frail human constitution. He glanced at the wretched thing and saw it going dark and silent, and it did.

Then, Loki was standing beside Stark and he saw him lying warm under the covers, and he was. A soft smile crossed Loki's face and he warmed his hand and lay it on the man's cheek for just a moment. He then silently strode into the living room, where the pizza box, dirty plates, and beer glasses still sat on the coffee table. He saw them put away, and they were.

He sat down on the couch, listening to the room. There were low hums and the ticking of a clock. He could hear the city outside, a comforting sort of rumble even in such a secluded chamber high inside of Stark Tower.

Loki liked it, liked hearing the noises. He remembered doing this back home in Asgard, sitting still and listening, letting the jumbled thoughts doing battle in his mind be soothed by the familiar sounds of his world—servants bustling, his parents talking, Thor and his friends laughing and shouting inanely outside his window.

He missed that, missed having a place to be.

Now, he had the entire universe to travel, and not one place to lay his head that he could call his own.

Not one being that would vouch for him, that would claim him. Well, Thor... But, that was only out of some misguided sense of guilt.

Stark was the one human he'd found intriguing thus far, and not for the reasons that Midgardians seemed to find him so desirable. Oh, he was sexy, yes, confident, he looked good in his clothes, but there were many like that. His money seemed to make people, male and female, weak in the knees, but it neither impressed nor attracted Loki. What need had he of coin when he could conjure anything he fancied? Anything but a home, anything but someone...

He shook his head irritably and shifted in his seat. A little jab of pain caught him by surprise, and he laughed—Stark was right, he'd be thinking of him for a good little while following their tryst. He didn't mind. It had been fun, seducing the billionaire. Too easy perhaps, but fun.

Then, of course, he'd had to piss him off, he thought with a rueful chuckle. Well, that was his way—anything good or nice or happy in his life was soon ruined, driven off by his mischievous inclinations, by his cursed tongue so quick to betray himself. He thought of Tony's words—I hate him—and a little twinge of regret rustled in his gut. Normally, hatred was good, it meant he'd been noticed, it meant that he had some small bit of power, even if just enough to make a common mortal throw a pillow across a bedchamber.

But, somehow, it wasn't really what he'd hoped for.

Wasn't what was needed to claim a place in the Iron Man's heart, or even on his couch, not really.

Not for long.

Loki stood up and glanced out the window into the sky.

And then, the air grew thin.

And Tony stirred and reached beside himself, startled awake by the empty bed. It took a moment before he remembered that Loki had already gone.

His cheek felt pleasantly warm, and he wondered when it was that he'd crawled under the covers and turned off the TV, and then he remembered that he hadn't.

And, he smiled a little before going back to sleep.

The next time it happened, Tony didn't think it ever would.

For the first few days after Loki'd teleported out of his bedroom, Tony had that sense of anticipation that comes with the belief that someone you connected with is going to contact you—that, at some point, there's going to be a welcome knock at the door, a phone call, a text, an email.

A whirlwind in the middle of your kitchen.

But, there wasn't one, and there kept not being one, and Tony cursed the Asgardians' habit of eschewing technological devices such as cell phones. "Damn it, Loki, what's the matter—worried about brain cancer? Or, just don't want to get locked into a long-term contract? I can get you a pay-as-you-go deal from Walmart!"

He did that for a while, talking to the air as if the goddamn alien god were right there in the room with him.

But, it didn't help. Loki didn't show up, didn't give any hint that he was in the world at all.

And, as the days turned into weeks, Tony got busy. That sense of anticipation turned to a die-hard wisp of hope, and then to disappointment, and then he'd forced himself to forget about it.

He told himself that it was for the best. The last thing he needed was an extraterrestrial boyfriend, right? Especially one who'd tried to take over the planet.

And, maybe it hadn't even happened, did you ever think of that? he asked himself one night, glass of scotch in hand. Maybe he was just drunk all the time now. Maybe someone put something in his drink, or maybe he was suffering the effects of some toxic chemical he'd been exposed to somewhere along the way, maybe even in his own lab. He made a mental note to ask Pep to take a blood sample from him and send it off for testing...

And then, one day, he turned around as he was looking for his stash of take-out menus, and there he was.

Lounging on his couch.

He had a bandana tied around his head and was wearing a snug black t-shirt, a leather jacket, tight jeans and motorcycle boots.

Yeah, motorcycle boots.

Tony repressed a gasp of delighted excitement, forcing himself into a nonchalant pose as he regarded Loki with a sneer on his lips.

"Well, well. Where the hell have you been?"

"I beg your pardon?"

The innocent expression on Loki's face was utterly disarming. Which of course was like waving a red flag in front of a bull to Tony. His nonchalance evaporated and he narrowed his eyes and snapped, "You've been gone a month. That's over 43,000 minutes! You couldn't take two seconds to let me know you were okay?"

Loki frowned, apparently giving Tony's outburst deep consideration before responding, "I'm sorry, I thought you were Tony Stark. Have I been conversing with a fourteen-year-old girl by mistake?"

"Oh, no you don't. Don't you dare. Don't you dare act like I'm overreacting because I'm pissed that you didn't call or come by, or send a fucking carrier pigeon, or whatever the hell it is you people do to let other people know you're not dead—"

"The absurdity of your concerns aside, may I point out that I'm here now? Shouldn't that count for something?"

"Yeah, you're here. Great. I guess the only question is why? What the hell do you want from me now?"

"Dinner," Loki said mildly.

Tony's brows shot up. "Dinner?"

"Yes, I want you to take me to dinner. And, someplace nice, none of your damn pizza parlors or hamburger joints. Not that they don't have their charms, but I'm really in the mood to be pampered a bit tonight..." He gave his long limbs a lazy serpentine stretch and looked up at Tony entreatingly. "All right?"

Tony gave a bark of laughter. "Pampered...? After your charming little exit from my bedroom? After you lied to me? That's rich. Get out."

Loki made a sad face. "Oh, dear. You really are upset with me, aren't you? I'm so sorry for my behavior." He strode over to stand in front of Tony. "Don't be angry, Tony. Please?" He gripped Tony's face in his hands and kissed him. It was a hot, wet kiss, and Tony reflexively ran his hands over Loki's lean frame, landing them on his cute little butt and squeezing. Amazing, he thought. Amazing how someone so... infuriating could feel so right and perfect in his arms. Well, tough. Fool me once, and all that.

"Hey, stop it." Tony pulled back and grabbed Loki's thin wrists, wrangling him away from himself. "This isn't going to work. I told you to get out and I meant it. Go."

Loki bit his lip. "Really? There's nothing I can do to... gain your forgiveness?" He slowly dropped to his knees in front of Tony, his eyes huge as he stared up at the billionaire, posed in supplication. He never broke eye contact as his nimble fingers began unfastening Tony's belt. Tony thought he might have a tiny little brain aneurism from the amount of control it took for him to abruptly pull Loki up by his arms, but he did it, a grunt of exasperation underlying his frustration.

"Now, cut it out! I know your game, space-dude. You're just trying to manipulate me. But I'm not going to let you, 'cause I don't need this shit."

"Manipulate you?" Loki jerked away and pulled the bandana off his head, leaving lank strands of hair to fall into his eyes. He pushed them back and snarled, "Oh, of course. I was once a prince of Asgard, you know. A god. I even ruled for a short time. And yet, here I am, attempting to manipulate a mere mortal into sharing a meal with me. How? By falling on my knees and debasing myself to him. Pathetic, isn't it? Very clever of you, seeing me for what I am. And, also so kind, rubbing it in my face this way. Well, don't worry. I won't trouble you again." With a cynical huff, Loki turned, and Tony could feel he was about to disappear.

"Wait!"

Loki paused, and then turned around. "What?"

"First of all, I don't give a damn who your daddy was, and yeah, you were a prince, but you were also a criminal, and guess what—I don't give a crap about that either. All I know is that I like you. I don't know why, you're obviously nothing but an enormous pain in the ass, but I do. And, if you would just be honest and quit pulling this kind of bullshit on me, I think we could get to be... something. Like you said that night."

He went up to Loki and put his hands on his shoulders. "And, by the way, much as I would love for you to do that thing you were about to do a few minutes ago—if you think I'd want it, knowing it made you feel debased? We've got a problem.

"And if you think I would ever ask you to do something that makes you feel that way...? We've got an even bigger problem. So..." Tony rubbed a thumb over Loki's cheek, thinking of the way he'd woken in the night to feel a warm, invisible touch on his own. "...you tell me. Do we have a problem?"

Loki's stare burned into Tony's eyes, but then he shook his head slightly. "No. We have no problem."

A slow smile crossed Tony's face. "Good. Now, about dinner—I've got news for you, slugger, I can't take you to a five-star restaurant with you dressed like that. Not that it isn't hot—you're totally making me hard, here—but you look like you're ready to rock out at an Ozzy concert and that's frowned upon in our better Midgardian establishments."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Ozzy?"

"Don't give me that shit. You know who he is."

"Oh, yes. The fellow who bites the heads off of bats. I quite like him."

"Yeah."

"Well, I have other clothes."

"Okay, but there's something else. I'm Tony Stark. I go out to dinner, my picture ends up in the paper, along with whoever it is I'm dining with. We can't have that. All I need is for one of my buds to notice that I'm hanging out with the guy who caused a little minor interplanetary warfare, and then to let Fury in on it—"

Loki held up a hand. "I understand. You're saying a disguise of some sort is needed."

"Well, yeah. But, it's gotta be good, no fake mustache and Groucho glasses, you know."

Loki looked as if he were going to ask a question, but thought better of it. "Give me a minute."

Tony watched him stalk off. Puzzled, he followed and saw Loki duck into the bathroom. Huh, Tony thought. Loki wasn't exactly shy about changing clothes in front of him, and he wasn't even sure that the Asgardian ever even used the bathroom, to be honest, but he shrugged and went back to sit on the couch. Several minutes passed by and Tony began flipping through a magazine. After a while, he checked his watch and found that he'd been sitting there for nearly half an hour.

"Oh, shit," he thought. Did Loki just dump him? If he did...

Tony got up and returned to the bathroom. "Hey, Reindeer Games—I'm sure you're pretty enough, let's go!"

He heard Loki moving around and in another minute, the door swung open.

Tony's jaw dropped.

Standing before him was the most striking woman he'd ever seen.

She was tall; her hair was blonde and fell in soft waves around her face. She wore a clingy red dress that was sexy as hell, but not in a slutty way. It hugged her perfect little firm high breasts—size of oranges, just enough to fill each palm, exactly like Tony liked 'em—and a tiny waist. Large green eyes dusted with fawn colored shadow and framed by long black lashes peered questioningly at Tony.

"Is this all right?" she asked in Loki's voice, breaking the spell. Tony blinked.

"Shit."

"Does that mean yes?"

"Uh... yeah. That's... pretty good. No one'll recognize you now."

"Good. Let's go, I'm starving."

"How did you—"

Loki raised a perfectly tweezed eyebrow. "If you want details, I'll explain after dinner."

Tony nodded and followed his statuesque date to the door. He studied Loki's ass intently, unable to detect the slightest hint of panty line. "What're you wearing under there?"

Loki paused. "Come here."

Tony came up behind him. Without turning, Loki reached back and took Tony's hand. He pulled up his skirt and guided Tony's hand underneath it. Tony touched delicious silk over Loki's slim, well-muscled thigh. He ran his hand upward, but Loki stopped him with an iron grip before he made it to the curve of his buttock.

"That's enough for now," Loki said with a soft grin. "More later. After dinner." He turned enough for Tony to see his dark eyes glance at him under his lashes. "When we're in bed."

The sound Tony made was something between a purr and a hopeless groan, and he had to take a second before having Jarvis inform Happy that he needed to bring the car around right away.

The restaurant was crowded as they'd arrived at the peak of the dinner hour, but Tony simply said a word to the maitre-d' and they were immediately shown to a table. An appetizer appeared and wine was quickly poured for them. There didn't seem to be any reporters around, and the dinner patrons were all rich and snooty enough to barely take note of the Stark presence. That was good, Tony thought—that boded well for a peaceful evening.

Still, Tony felt a twinge of unease—Loki didn't look at all like himself, but it was still him under that makeup and hair and dress. And, as far as Tony could tell, he certainly hadn't changed his personality. The horror of possibly running into someone he knew—and Tony knew a lot of people—was that Loki would be his usual snarky, pain-in-the-ass self and create some kind of incident.

Which, Tony was pretty sure, would not go well.

But, they were each given a menu, and Loki was occupied with perusing his, and nobody was paying them any real attention, so Tony had almost allowed that last little muscle in his stomach to relax when a familiar female voice exclaimed, "Tony!"

He looked up to see Pepper standing at their table, with Bruce Banner at her side.

"Pep!" he said, rising to his feet. "And, Doc! Hey! What're you doing here?"

Banner smiled. "I'm helping Miss Potts organize a humanitarian effort in Africa. We've been working all day; she was kind enough to offer to take me to dinner."

"Yeah, that's my girl. And, gosh, I'm not at all hurt that I wasn't included." Tony gave Pepper a cheery smile. She was smiling too, but her eyes were on Loki, who looked up from his menu with a blank expression. Pepper turned her gaze back to Tony.

"I did invite you, Tony. Remember? You said you were too tired to go out." She glanced back at Loki, and then added, "In fact, you said you were going to stay in. Alone." She broadened her smile and nodded at Loki. "Yet, here you are! Who's this?"

"Oh! Uh... This is my friend, uh—"

"Lola." Loki half-rose from his chair and held out a beautifully manicured hand. His voice was his own, but soft, with a hint of an American Southern accent. Pepper shook his hand, and then Tony pulled himself together enough to continue with the introductions.

"Uh... Yeah! This is Lola. Lola, this is Pepper Potts and Bruce Banner."

Banner reached for Loki's hand. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am. Have you known Tony long?"

"Oh, about a year now. We met at some conference or other. I always give him a ring when I'm in town, but we hardly ever get together, we're both so busy. Tonight was just... good luck."

"Right." Tony took a deep breath; to his relief, Loki didn't appear to be riled up by the man whose alter-ego had pretty well smashed the heck out of him a little over a year ago, and neither Bruce nor Pep seemed to have the slightest idea that Loki was anyone but yet another of Tony's eye-candy one-night stands.

A waiter had come to stand apologetically by their table. "I can come back, Mr. Stark," he said.

"No, no, please, go ahead and order," Pepper said. "I need to get Bruce back to his hotel room. It was lovely meeting you, Lola. You two have a nice evening." She gave Tony a slight smirk and then she and Bruce moved away, heading toward the exit.

Tony gave an audible sigh as he watched them leave. "Whew." He turned back and picked up his menu. He and Loki ordered, and once the waiter left, Tony reached out and squeezed Loki's hand. "Thank you."

"For what?" Loki asked in his normal voice.

"For putting on that little act. I don't think either of them suspected anything at all."

"Of course not." Loki got a bit of a dreamy look on his face. "Although, it was extremely tempting to... What do you think Banner would have done if he'd realized who I was?" he asked slyly.

"I... don't want to think about it."

"Oh, I do." Loki chuckled as he placed his napkin on his lap. "It would have been... most entertaining."

"You find repeatedly being slammed into concrete entertaining?"

Loki shrugged. "Oh, not so much. Been there, done that and all. But, he is a sight to behold in that state, don't you think?"

"You just concentrate on your calamari, young lady. No bringing out Hulk-boy tonight, understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Loki said, his eyes glittering emerald. He squeezed back on Tony's hand. "I guess I'll have to settle for whatever you decide to entertain me with tonight, eh?"

"I'll do my best to keep you from getting bored."

"I know you will." Loki took a sip of wine and then slowly ran his tongue around his delicately painted red lips. "I can hardly wait."

Tony thought of the slender thigh he'd had clasped in his hand for such a brief moment, and felt the napkin on his lap elevate with his erection.

Back at Stark Tower, Tony was positively strung out with lust. Loki had teased him mercilessly all evening—seductive looks, a hand on his thigh, a foot brushing against his calf, an unending string of double entendres that caused Tony to choke on his drink more than once. Just the way Loki moved was erotic; catlike grace with just a hint of naughtiness that was making Tony hot under the collar, although whether it was Loki's feminine appearance that was getting to him, or the fact that Loki was male—beautifully, deliciously male—underneath it all that drove him insane.

Assuming that he was indeed still male.

Tony was under no illusions—he knew Loki could change his form to be anything he wanted. Not knowing exactly what he'd chosen to have in store for Tony once they finally made it to his bedroom was about as titillating a proposition as Tony had ever encountered.

He couldn't fucking wait.

Once they crossed the threshold of his bed chamber, Loki dropped his seduction act and grabbed Tony in a passionate embrace. He kissed him and let Tony run his hands over his body, up over his breasts, down over his hips and ass, but as soon as Tony attempted to slip his hands under Loki's clothes, he'd twist away with a reproving tsk.

"Now, now. Patience. Come, let's get comfortable." Loki lay down on Tony's bed.

"Jeeze, you're gorgeous."

"Yes? You like me this way?"

"Yeah..." Tony couldn't keep his hands off Loki's tits. He squeezed the immeasurably soft but firm little mounds, his breath was coming fast. "These real?" he rasped.

Loki put his hands on Tony's and sought his eyes. Once they were both still, he asked simply, "Do you want them to be?" It wasn't a leading question; it was as matter-of-fact as if he'd asked Tony if he wanted mustard on his sandwich.

Yet, Tony felt his answer was kind of important. It would have been easy to say, "Oh, hell, yeah!" Would have been out-of-this-world weird and sexy and bizarrely exciting, like nothing he'd ever experienced, he knew that. But, there was something in Loki's eyes that his words, his voice, didn't betray. And, Tony thought long and hard about his answer.

"No." He said it almost without realizing it, but he knew he meant it. "No, Loki. I like the guy I sat on the couch with, the one that ate pizza and watched football with me. The one I went to bed with. You're a damn knockout like this, but it's not you. I want... you. Okay?"

Tony thought Loki looked a little surprised, but then he smirked. He rummaged around in the front of his dress and pulled out a pair of silicon falsies."You're so easy, Stark. Did you really think they were the real thing?"

Tony leaned forward and kissed him. "No. I knew you knew you didn't have to fake it for me."

"Oh..." A tranquil expression came over Loki's face and he lay back. "Well, yes. Of course I did. Do you want me to... change?" He gestured at his makeup and hair.

"Yeah. All except the dress, and whatever it is you've got on under it. That's the kind of kinky fun I can get into." Tony grinned and Loki grinned back. He got up and went to Tony's bathroom. When he came out, he was back to Loki of the black hair and skinny body, but still clad in the snug red dress. He lay down again and Tony wasted no time pulling the skirt up around Loki's waist.

Revealing black thong panties and a lacy garter belt that held up sheer black silk stockings.

"Oh, fuck," Tony said with a wolf-whistle of appreciation. He slowly unsnapped the garters and slithered the silken hose down one leg, kissing along the inside of Loki's pale thigh as he went. He gave the other leg the same treatment, prudishly ignoring the swelling bulge in the front of Loki's underwear. He heard a low curse and Loki started to reach into the panties, but Tony caught his hand.

"Uh-uh, gorgeous. You don't touch that pretty cock of yours. Tonight, that belongs to me, along with everything else below the equator, and I don't want you to touch my stuff, comprende?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "You really are a tiresome bastard, aren't you? All right, as you wish. Hands off." Loki was propped up on his elbows and he raised both hands in defeat before plopping down flat on his back. "But you do intend to offer me a bit of genital stimulation sometime in this millennium, don't you? Because, if not, I noticed Banner eyeing me with some interest. I wonder what he's like in the sack? Do you suppose he can fuck as the beast? Do you suppose anyone could survive it if he did? I—Oh!"

Loki's highly annoying musings were cut short when Tony yanked down the panties and buried Loki's cock in his mouth.