Chapter Text
Loki raised his glare to meet Stark's. He wanted to spit in the human's face, revile him until he shrunk under his gaze, strike him down with his godly strength, be pulled into his kiss as his clothes were torn from him, and Stark's nails were dug into his-
His face dropped suddenly, as his body betrayed him. His cheeks burning hot, and his pants growing tight. He made no motion to move, realizing he was in no position to demand respect. He was at the human's mercy, and he wasn't unaware of just how helpless he was.
Stark's smirk widened. "Subjugation suits you."
Loki turned his head sharply, glaring defiantly at his captor and snarling viciously into his muzzle. Awkward predicament or not, he refused to go down without a fight.
Stark's smile stayed stiffly in place as he slammed Loki face-first toward the floor, twisting the chain leash to limit his air again. Loki barely caught himself in time to keep his head from hitting the ground, his hands scraping raw against the rough cement floor.
He coughed and gasped for breath, his lips tingling and his eyes watering as he choked. He felt a throb of heat and subconsciously pulled against the collar, choking himself more so the heat would intensify. It did, and he felt dizzy with excitement and oxygen deprivation. One bleeding hand had found its way between his thighs without his permission, and was pressing against his arousal. The other barely held him off the ground, confined by the short length of the chain between them. It was an awkward and unbalanced position, made more precarious by the trembling of his body that he had only just noticed and couldn't quite control. It didn't take much effort for Stark to push him all the way over with his foot and Loki hit the ground with his shoulder and cheek with a muffled cry of pain. 'Way to go down without a fight, Loki,' he thought, disgusted with himself.
Stark chuckled. "Look at you. The great and powerful Loki, who would have ruled the Earth. And here you are, a quivering ball of arousal from nothing more than a little asphyxiation. Pathetic."
The white-hot humiliation scalded Loki, but not in the way he expected. An uncontrolled whimper escaped from beneath the muzzle. He felt extremely confused, and very, very turned on.
Stark gave a yank of the chain, mockingly, and he kneeled down to take hold of the restraints around Loki's wrists. Loki's chest heaved exhaustedly, but his eyes opened wide as the human jerked his hands towards a hook on the floor, latching Loki's cuffs securely, allowing only a small gap between his skin and the cold concrete. He laid there, still catching his breath, attempting to get his erection under control. Confusion must have been blatant on his face, before he could ask, Stark gave him the answer.
"I don't trust SHIELD's security standards." Stark mused, eyeing Loki critically. "I'll have to perform a body cavity search." He unlatched the metal muzzle, letting it clatter to the floor.
Loki's eyes widened in horror, spitting out the taste of muzzle. "A what?! Why?!"
"To check you for dangerous weapons or contraband."
"That's completely unnecessary and you know it!" Loki snarled angrily, trying to disguise his panic.
"Against the God of Mischief? I don't think so." Stark pulled a pair of latex gloves from his pocket, clearly prepared for this.
Loki pulled at his chains, trying to move as far from Stark as possible. "Those were in your pocket, they aren't sanitary!" He was grasping at straws, he knew, but surely something would make Stark realize what a terrible idea this was.
Stark chuckled as he pulled the gloves on with a condemning snap. "These are for my hygiene, not yours. I don't intend to soil my hands with your filthy body."
Loki growled at the insult, even as it sent a throb of hot shame an awful lot lower than he would have liked. "I am a god, mortal! My body is more pristine than-"
His words were cut off when Stark grabbed his jaw, examining him. "Let's start with the oral cavity."
Loki twisted in his grasp, furious. "Put your fingers in my mouth and I'll bite them off!"
Stark picked up the chain that trailed on the floor. "Be grateful that I'm starting with your mouth, rather than finishing with it," he replied darkly, and shoved the metal links between Loki's teeth, preventing him from biting down.
Loki let out an animalistic sound of protest, jerking and pulling to escape. Stark grabbed him more firmly, fingers digging painfully under the back of his jawbone while his thumb held the chain links in place. He thrust two fingers of his other hand into Loki's mouth and the god choked, spitting on the taste of metal and latex. The fingers ran between his teeth and cheek on both sides, creating a sensual tickling that made Loki squirm and make undignified noises.
Stark's fingers twisted around his tongue in a way that was certainly sexual, as it would have done nothing to locate any hidden contraband. Loki couldn't help the sound that escaped his throat, but he still hated himself for making it. He was being violated in the worst way, and yet he was getting off on it. Surely there could be nothing else in this world that would be more mortifying for a king of gods. He began to twist in Stark's grasp, trying to pull free. This only succeeded in causing Stark to plunge his fingers deeper, eliciting a shameful moan from his captive. Loki ground his teeth against the chain links, furious at his own weakness.
Without warning, Stark thrust his fist into Loki's mouth, forcing his fingers into his throat. Loki choked, his eyes watering as his abdominal muscles contracted, trying to eject the unwelcome intrusion. He pulled back, squirming and making noises of desperation. Stark held him firmly, not letting up until the noises changed from distressed to pleading. Momentarily satisfied with the proud god's degradation, Stark finally let go and Loki fell to the floor, coughing and gasping.
He waited for Stark's inevitable snarky comment, but it didn't come. Perhaps the mortal knew that it was unnecessary, as the sounds of agony and arousal Loki himself was making were already more humiliating than anything Stark could have come up with.
Or perhaps he was simply preoccupied, as his hands were on Loki's hips now, pulling them up from the floor. Before the god was able to utter his cry of protest, his pants had been jerked down unceremoniously. In an earlier time, Loki might have cried out to Odin, but now, with no loyalty or respect for any higher power than himself, he knew no name to call but that of his tormentor.
"No, Stark! Please, don't!" Loki felt sick at the sound of his own pathetic, rasping plea. What was his pride now? What had it ever been?
Stark's voice held a light, mocking chuckle. "Most people would call out to their god, wouldn't they?" His latex-wrapped fingers, slippery with saliva, pressed unforgivingly against the Asgardian's entrance. "Do you think of me as your god already, Loki?"
"I will never think of you as anything but scum!" Loki snarled in return, feeling he might retain at least a scrap of his shredded dignity. That illusion was shattered when two fingers were forced deeply into him, ripping a tormented cry from his damaged throat. Any saliva that may have coated them seemed to be absorbed instantly by his body, leaving them torturously dry as they twisted in him, pressing, thrusting, searching. Loki hadn't even realized his wails of pain had blended with moans of pleasure, agony and ecstasy coiling viciously together in the most intoxicating way. Now he was truly being violated in the worst way, and now he couldn't possibly have cared less. He was gasping unintelligible words of praise and pleasure and pleading all at once. He was so, so close, any second now-
Without warning, the fingers pulled free and the hands vanished, letting him fall to the floor a second time. He stared up at Stark in confusion as the man pulled off his gloves.
"No hidden contraband? I'm surprised at you, God of Mischief." Stark chuckled, amused at the other male's expression. He kneeled down, getting close to Loki's scowling face. "Nothing to say? No clever remark about how you didn't enjoy that at all?" Loki gave no response.
"I want you on your back." As he spoke, suddenly stern, he rolled Loki over. The god's hands twisted violently in the restraints, metal biting into delicate muscle and bone. Loki let out a groan at the awkward and uncomfortable angle his arms were contorted into. His rock hard erection lay throbbing against his stomach in contrast.
Anthony Stark, the Iron Man, sat back and admired the god's naked form. He was impossibly perfect. Every inch of his skin unmarred. His pale flesh made him look so delicate, so innocent. Stark grinned as he gripped the surgical steel rod in his hand. He couldn't wait to scar that perfect flesh.
Loki's eyes caught the glint of metal, something he hadn't noticed before. His eyes went wide. "What are you doing?" His voice was angry, yet deliberately even.
"Are you frightened, god? Stark grinned and held up the rod. "Surgical steel. 5 millimeters thick." He turned it around in hands, examining it. "A little lube, and it should go rather smoothly. As long as you don't struggle."
"What are you doing?!" Loki demanded again, voice losing its evenness and gaining an edge of desperation.
"I'm going to take this steel rod and slide it down your shaft. So don't move." Stark smirked as the naked body started to wiggle frantically.
"Stop! Stop this instant!"
Loki's indignant tone did nothing but urge the human on. Stark adjusted his position, sitting more comfortably to ease the pressure on his growing erection and pinning Loki's spread legs firmly to the floor. He worked slowly, savoring the moment. He leisurely pulled the small tube from his pocket, his eyes never leaving Loki's face as the god continued to protest. Even louder as the shaft became slick with lube.
"No! No, please, Stark! Don't do this!" Loki pleaded as the tip of metal touched his own.
Stark raise an eyebrow. "Begging? So early in the game? But how can you know you don't like something before you've even tried it?" His other hand came up to secure that godly cock, massaging it slowly to elicit reluctant whimpers from his captive.
"Now, I wouldn't do anything to hurt you." His voice sounded mockingly sensitive, "But if you move, well, I can't guarantee I won't accidentally thrust just a bit too far. And I'd hate to make you bleed your first time." He winked, but the god lay expressionless, jaw clenched. "We have an understanding then." Silence. "Good."
Loki grit his teeth, torn between his pride and his safety. Silence, he decided was the only dignified option here. He would not beg for mercy from this monster, not again, when he knew it was futile and only served to humiliate him. He would not struggle, which had much the same effect as begging and was likely to get him hurt. He would settle for resolute silence and not give Stark the satisfaction of a reaction. He laid back flat, trying to relax as much as possible with his arms twisted awkwardly. Closing his eyes, he braced himself.
Stark took his posture to mean the god had conceded. The wand pushed lightly at his slit. Loki made a soft whimper before he could catch himself.
It burned, but only for a second. As it slid further down his shaft, Loki became more aware of every inch of his own cock. Then a slow dramatic sucking feeling as it was pulled back out, and with it a soft "Unnnnhhh!" until he was left with a remarkably empty feeling. He let out a whimper in spite of himself.
"Again?"
Loki only nodded, his eyes still closed. He knew his shame would be crushing when all was said and done, but he wad far too lost in the moment. What was dignity? He was far too focused on that throbbing need in his groin.
The burning was at his tip again, and the low guttural moan followed. The sucking sensation was almost too much to bear this time. Loki whimpered at the prospect of it leaving his slit, but it didn't. The wand forced its way back down the narrow pass, quicker and with a bit more force. His body shuddered and he tightly gripped the chains restraining his wrists.
He felt his hole stretching to comfortably accommodate the metal rod as it began sliding in and out of his slit faster and smoother. The god shivered and shook, desperate to cling to the blaze he felt growing more and more insistent. His muscles tensed and trembled as he was dragged closer to the edge.
"Nnngh... Don't stop... Don't - I'm gonna..." he breathed out heavily.
And then it was ripped from him. Burning down the length of his shaft, leaving him in a state of breathlessness and shock. He laid there, curled up as much as the chains would allow, gasping in pain.
"I didn't say you were allowed to cum."
"...You sa-said... you wouldn't hurt me..." Loki choked out angrily.
"I lied." Stark said standing up and stretching out. He groaned as his mortal body readjusted.
Loki felt a surge of anger, for all the wrong reasons. Seconds from what would have probably been the most intense orgasm of his life, and this mortal had the audacity to stop? "How dare you?!"
"How dare I what?" Stark smirked. "Pull out before you were able to get off?"
"No!" Loki bluffed furiously, glaring at the human. "Don't flatter yourself, mortal! I am a god! I have dignity!"
"Yeah, well, you compare that godly dignity to the erection you're sporting and tell me which one is harder when I get back." Stark strolled to the door. "I don't have any more time to play with you today. I have a dinner date with Lady Liberty."
He smirked, waved at the furious god, and walked out of the cell without a backward glance, twirling the rod between his fingers.
It was almost midnight when Tony arrived at the restaurant, a place that was expensive enough and open late enough to suit his quirks. He wasn't terribly concerned with keeping Steve up late - the supersoldier wasn't much of a sleeper anyway. However, he didn't look pleased with being kept waiting.
Steve was irked, to say the least, when Tony breezed in casually. The star-spangled hero noticed him before their eyes met. So, sitting up straight, he glanced at the menu in front of him, playing coy. His lips pursed annoyed, and looked at his watch, as if he hadn't yet noticed the billionaire.
Tony wasn't fooled. He was used to standing up dates, and the different levels of pissed-off that came with it. He slid into the seat across from Steve with a smile. "Miss me, Princess Patriotic? You seem upset."
Steve glanced up, raising his eyebrows. "You're late." He took a sip of his untouched water, his feet shuffling slightly under the table.
"Fashionably." Tony ordered something much stronger than water from the cute waitress, who he didn't bother to resist flirting with. "I like eating late."
Steve scowled, as annoyed by the flirting as by the comment. "Then you should have told me to meet you later."
"And risk you rejecting me in favor of getting your beauty sleep? Ridiculous. I'd much rather just make you wait, because I know you will." Tony smiled playfully.
Steve shook his head. "I wouldn't have waited much longer."
Tony snickered. "Oh, were you just on your way out?"
Steve huffed, and continued to look at the menu, his cheeks slightly flushed. "I've been ready to order for hours," he mumbled.
"Exactly." Tony eyed his menu. "You could have ordered without me. I wouldn't have minded, it's not like we're on a date."
The cute waitress returned with his drink, smiling politely. "Are you two gentlemen ready to order?"
"Sure thing. I'll take the surf and turf and for dessert, I'll have you." Tony flashed his playboy smile at the girl.
To her credit, she didn't blush, but she did look a bit flustered. "I'm not for sale, sir."
"To me, I think you would be." Tony smirked wider and the girl broke eye contact, turning to Steve and asking for his order, blatantly ignoring his table-mate.
Steve was bright red. He couldn't even begin to apologize for Tony's arrogance, but he tried his best to order quickly, so the girl could get out of there. "Two orders of lasagna, an order of the swedish meatballs, and a side of garlic bread. The lasagnas come with a salad?" Her eyes were wide as she nodded. "Excellent, then on my salads I'll have Italian, please." He smiled pleasantly as he handed her his menu. "Thank you, so much." As she left he turned an annoyed gaze on Tony.
"Man, you really are a piece of work." He shook his head, turning his eyes away.
"What?" Tony smiled innocently. "She was cute and I'm Tony Stark."
Steve glared viciously at him. "Why did you ask me here, Stark? You call me here for dinner, show up hours late, and hit on the waitresses. What's the point of all this?" His cheeks were burning hot. He sat back in his chair, not realizing how upset he'd gotten.
Tony raised his eyebrows. "Jealous?" He chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. "Careful, Rogers. I might start to think you like me." He batted his eyelashes 'flirtatiously'.
"No!" He said a bit too loudly. The restaurant wasn't exactly full, but being the big apple, wasn't dead either. A few curious eyes glanced their way. He put his head down, as he took a sip from his water glass. "Don't be ridiculous..."
Tony watched him critically. He wasn't a fool, he knew when someone had something to say that they didn't want to say. And the only thing he could think of was...
"You do like me, don't you?" Ah, shit. There goes his mouth before his brain can catch up. It happens all the time, but it's usually harmless, even hilarious. This time, maybe not. Tony braced himself for the potential collapse of their friendship.
Steve's eyes got wide, and his cheeks reddened even more. "LIke you? Pfft. You're a... guy." He shook his head, and took another sip of his water. He cleared his throat and changed the subject quickly. "How's the god adjusting?" He sneered as he said it, his cheeks still flushed.
Tony exhaled. Of course Steve didn't look at him that way - most people had a gender preference. Tony sometimes forgot that. Then again, the way he was blushing... No, Tony wasn't going think about it. Putting their friendship on the line once in a night was enough.
He focused on Steve's question instead. "Loki? Oh, he's fine. I think he was a bit put-out by the body cavity search, though." Tony chuckled.
Steve laughed lightly. "He gives me the impression he'd like something like that." He shook his head, and looked up at the man, a slight smile still on his lips. "You really should be careful though. All jokes aside. He's dangerous, and I'm sure has plenty of tricks up his sleeve."
Tony chuckled as their food was set down on the table in front of them. "Don't worry about me, old man. I've got plenty of tricks up my sleeves as well."