A/N: Short chapter, but smut! Reviews are greatly appreciated, by the way...
Tony tended to Loki with long licks, teasing nips, and a lot of good deep oral action, which was, by the way, not his usual M.O.
At all.
In fact, he normally wouldn't be caught dead going down on another guy—he didn't mind it with women, and he loved receiving BJs so much he really, really didn't care if the giver was male or female—but Loki was in some rare category that went beyond gender, kind of the way Tony didn't like champagne, but found Dom Perignon absolutely delicious. So, when the panties came down and Loki's member popped out, impudent, half-hard and proud, putting it in his mouth just seemed to come naturally to Tony.
As did all the other lascivious things his mouth decided to do, once it was in there.
After a while, Loki gave a low hungry groan, impatiently thrusting up past Tony's comfort zone, and Tony irritably pulled back. "Hey, Shakespeare, that's rude. Can't you just lie there and appreciate what I'm doing for you for three goddamn minutes?"
"I'll appreciate you once you've actually begun to fellate me... rather than this transparently facile attempt to... to merely shut me up..." In spite of his scornful words, Loki's voice had a bit of a happily strained quality to it. Tony looked up, amused.
"What the hell's wrong with what I've been doing?" Tony continued to use his hand to maintain attention to the task of driving Loki to distraction.
Loki cleared his throat, trying to sound as blasé as possible. "Nothing, if you're attempting to seal an envelope or... Or, affix a sheet of green stamps to a page." He managed to smother a whimper of pleasure.
"Green stamps! How do you even know about green stamps?"
Tony's hand never stopped, and Loki now gave a hum of appreciation, but raised himself on his elbows so he could look at Tony properly. "Thor is... inordinately fond of ancient Midgardian television programs. He recently forced me to—by the gods, Stark, continue doing that—to watch hours of something called 'TV Land,' while Jane Foster was out of town." Another groan escaped before he could add, "In return, I intend to injure him most grievously at the first opportunity."
Tony gave up on his efforts and laughed at the mental image of Loki being held captive by his big brother and forced to watch reruns of "The Brady Bunch."
"I don't blame you, kiddo. But, say, if you're so dissatisfied with the level of service I've been providing, maybe you should show me how it's done." Tony slid off the bed and undressed, and then lay down again, waggling his member invitingly.
Loki gave a huff of frustration. "Stark! You bastard... Well, fine. I suppose it's time someone demonstrated a bit of proper technique for you."
"Oh, I guess you've got skills in this department, eh?"
"I didn't earn the moniker 'Loki Silver-tongue' for my verbal abilities alone." With a long-suffering sigh, Loki pulled the dress over his head and then divested himself of bra, garter belt, panties, and stockings—much to Tony's regret, but he didn't protest as Loki lay down beside him, gripped the base of his cock in his long elegant fingers and settled into position so that he could comfortably take Tony in his mouth.
Tony had spent a lot of time imagining what Loki's icy lips and steamy warm mouth would feel like on that particular part of his anatomy, but Tony's imagination had poorly prepared him for the kind of pleasure he was instantly plunged into as Loki began his efforts.
It was insane, and when Loki gently rolled Tony's balls in his hand, Tony was sure he was a goner. But Loki abruptly pulled back and gave him a chastising look. "Oh, no. Look at this—" he said, gesturing at Tony's straining erection. "Do you really think I'm going to let it go to waste after doing all that work? Honestly, you should look into one of those Midgardian impotence aids, don't they sell little pumps to compensate for this unfortunate condition of yours?"
Tony gasped, "Okay, you need to get back to what you were doing, smart-ass, and by the way, my dick works just fine... At least it does when I don't have a goddamn extraterrestrial yammering on about some bullshit or other—"
Loki instantly pulled away and sat up. "Oh, forget it. I've lost interest by now. Where's the television remote? I'm in the mood for something intellectually stimulating for a change, perhaps a bit of 'I Love Lucy' or 'Three's Company.' Or how about 'The Beverly Hillbillies? That's more on your level, I would think, given your current standard of living. Also, the sociological overtones in that one are quite interesting, I'm sure you can amply relate to it—Ackkk!"
Loki's jibe was cut off when Tony yanked him to him and buried his tongue in his mouth. He lay Loki down and kissed him, warm and wet and not exactly rough, and after a moment, Loki's entire body seemed to give in and mold itself to Tony's. For all the sass he'd had to put up with from his alien-god lover, Tony was ready to fall into worship of the long limbs wrapped around him, the strong muscles rippling under him, and the sweetness of the kiss Loki was now bestowing upon him. He ran his hand over Loki's back and something about it struck his passion-addled mind as strange—he was warm.
Loki felt warm.
"Hey," Tony whispered. "Are you doing that thing?"
"What thing?" Loki whispered back.
"You know—that thing, where you warm your skin up for me."
Loki tilted his head and frowned, puzzled. "No—do I feel warm to you?"
Tony nodded.
Loki shrugged. "I have no idea what's causing that."
"Are you sick?" Tony put his palm on Loki's forehead, looking worried.
"No, I'm fine. What are you doing?"
"Oh—that's how we check for fever here on Midgard."
"Ah. No, I'm fine, Tony." Loki kissed him again. "Stop worrying and make love to me."
"But—"
Loki's eyes narrowed darkly. "It must be the heat of unsatisfied passion that warms my skin. I trust you're going to stop fretting and do something about that? Or must I summon the televising device from its sleep after all?"
Tony chuckled. "Okay, okay, chill out. I'm on it." He returned to the kiss he'd interrupted, tenderly cradling Loki in his arms as he teased and caressed and prepared him with gentle fingers.
Loki whimpered at the sensations; for a moment, it seemed he was unsure how to respond to Tony's caring treatment. But then he pulled away and reached for the lube Tony had left on the nightstand. He poured some into his palm and slathered it onto Tony's erection, and then lifted himself to straddle his lover. He reached behind himself and guided Tony inside, his head thrown back, dark hair falling around his shoulders.
Tony couldn't help but notice that Loki's posture was as haughty and regal as always, in spite of the fact that he was allowing himself to be penetrated by a mere human being. Tony started to razz him about that, but he stopped as it occurred to him that this was who Loki was—a true prince, once a king, always a member of royalty, no matter how low his present circumstances might be. His manner was not an affectation, but a product of his birth and his rearing.
The thought was a little bewildering to Tony, native of a country long unaccustomed to the very notion of being ruled, and he found himself studying Loki's features with fascination. Then, all thought was forgotten as the god slowly lowered himself along Tony's thick member until he was seated; his slim thighs gripped Tony's waist, and Tony squeezed back affectionately. They stared into each other's eyes, and Loki smiled benevolently.
I got no problem being your subject, Prince of Asgard-baby, Tony thought, grinning back. Rule me hard, sweetheart...
Loki then began rocking his hips, centering his energy on their joined bodies, and that made Tony moan as every nerve suddenly ignited—it was stunning, feeling himself inside that slick, clasping heat. He now watched Loki's beautiful face, the flutter of dark lashes, his mouth slightly open, a tinge of pink on his pale cheeks. It felt so good, not just the sex, but having Loki want him, not for his body alone, but for his thoughts, his feelings... hell, his jokes. For a moment, Tony thought his heart would burst with joy; this was new, this was different, something so strong that he felt sure nothing and no one could ever take it away, almost as if...
Almost as if someone had cast a spell upon him.
...Well, shit, he thought. Of course. The revelation jolted Tony just as that pre-orgasmic heat was reaching his core. Magic... That would totally explain how he, playboy Tony Stark, could have fallen so hard for another dude, which, normally, would not happen, I mean, sure, he'd had man-crushes before, but this was ridiculous...
It would also explain how he could have so easily come to overlook Loki's previous villainous behavior, what with the killing and the maiming and the wanton destruction and all. While he would like to think he was big enough of a person to respect Loki's rehabilitation, it was still kind of a hard thing to just ignore, and here he was, hardly ever even thinking about it at all anymore.
Not when Loki was in his arms, for sure.
Tony frowned. He looked up at the god, who was now shifting forward, about to bend to kiss Tony, and without a fraction of a second's consideration, Tony blurted out, "Hey—have you done some kind of magic mumbo-jumbo thing on me or something?"
Loki paused, every muscle stilled. He looked into Tony's eyes, bewildered. "What?"
"You know, like, an enchantment spell to make me go all gaga over you? I mean, I guess it's okay, it feels nice, I'd just like to know what I'm dealing with here, deprived of free will and all, and I—"
Abruptly, Loki rolled off and sat beside Tony, facing him. He had a look on his face that Tony seriously didn't know how to interpret, and they were both quiet for a moment. Then, Loki began speaking matter-of-factly, sounding like a professor giving a lecture.
"There are two predominant types of enchantments having to do with sex and romance. One is a simple lust spell. It creates an overwhelming need to rut in the subject, and an experienced sorcerer can direct the being's attention to himself or to someone else, as needed. It's mostly used as a form of distraction, or if the sorcerer is simply attracted to the subject, but doesn't wish to waste time wooing him or her.
"The other is a love spell. It doesn't work the way you might think. It can't create a feeling of love where none exists; it can only drive away whatever obstacles exist in the subject's mind which are preventing him or her from accepting their true feelings. It is extremely powerful and long-lasting, and requires much time and great attention to detail in order to formulate it correctly. It would not be entered into lightly." Loki's gaze had been trained on the wall behind Tony's head, but now he turned a laser-like look at Tony, and a thunderous expression came over him.
"And, if you think I find it necessary to stoop to such tactics to receive an invitation into your bed, you are even more of an egomaniacal, narcissistic, delusional nitwit than I originally thought. Fuck you, Tony Stark." He stood up, all serpentine grace and fluid moves, and then he was dressed in his leathers, his eyes sparking fire. "I don't give a tinker's damn if you like me, or care about me, or even if you continue to want to bed me. I've been thrown out of better places than this many times, and I will be again—"
Tony was beginning to regret his inelegant approach to his query and he hastily stood up and reached for Loki's shoulders. "Now, hold on there, hot shot, calm down. I didn't mean to—"
Loki stepped back, evading Tony's touch. "To answer your inane question, no, you are under no sort of enchantment and believe it or not, whatever feelings you might harbor toward me are of your own device. Good luck with that, and to hell with your puling ways. Find someone else to warm your bed and suck your cock. I'm done."
In a flash of lightning, Loki was gone, leaving nothing but a sputter of electricity in the air where he had stood.
A/N#2: ...yeah, not to be whiny, but the last chapter only got one review (thank you, Nebs!), which made me wonder if you all are really enjoying this story. I love faves and follows, don't get me wrong, but they don't allow me to interact with you or give me clues as to what, if anything, you like about the fic or how to improve...