Chapter Text
In all the fifty years he lived in the palace, Tony never once entered the sparring ring. It simply wasn’t done, because he wasn’t allowed to challenge anyone, and nobody would have stooped low enough to challenge him. Loki offered, once, but they both knew it was a ridiculous notion – Loki would have been obligated to wipe the floor with Tony, for one thing, and for the other, his reputation was already bad enough, he didn’t need to go around challenging his own slave to a duel.
But even though Tony didn’t fight himself, he spent a lot of time watching. After a decade or two people were so used to his presence in the palace that they didn’t mind anymore when Loki brought him along. They didn’t pay him attention; he was part of the decor, a pet you fussed over for a few minutes and then forgot about.
Point is, he knows how the Aesir fight. More importantly, he knows that it’s intrinsically different from how Loki fights. The gym at the compound has nothing in common with the sparring ground in Asgard, but Loki’s fighting is the same, and he’s still –
“Such a fucking cheater,” Tony gasps, voice strained because Loki currently has him in a chokehold, forearm pressing against Tony’s windpipe. That’s funny, because Tony could swear Loki wasn’t behind him just a second ago. The Loki Tony was focusing on waves at him with a blinding grin and dissolves into green light.
“Are you surprised?” Loki murmurs close to Tony’s ear.
Tony lets out a laugh. “No. Now let me go –“
“Not before you yield.”
“You know, I’ve been thinking –“
“How brave of you.”
“Can I tie you up tonight?”
Loki loosens his grip for a second, surprised. That’s all Tony needs. It gives him room to move, so he twists and rams an elbow against Loki’s sternum, making him gasp.
“That was cheating,” Loki presses out, and wasting time to complain is another mistake.
Tony can’t take it up with Loki’s strength, but he’s fast. Fast enough that Loki can’t get a hold of him in time, and for the first time during this sparring session, Tony has the upper hand and manages to keep it. He sends Loki to the ground, even, and they tumble around for a while, each trying to get on top. Tony isn’t sure how he does it, but he ends up straddling Loki’s chest, and Loki actually stops struggling.
“Fine,” he says, miffed. “You win. But only because I find you annoyingly attractive right now.”
“You always find me annoyingly attractive.”
“Annoying, yes,” Loki drawls. “Are you planning to get up anytime soon?”
“Only if you want me to.” Tony grins and leans down low enough that the kiss he wants is mere inches away. “So, about the tying you up thing –“
“You should get a room.”
They both turn their heads in Steve’s direction, who is busy with his punching bag, as so often. Tony sits up and widens his grin, catching Steve’s gaze across the room.
“Yeah? Do you wanna join? I can probably procure enough rope for both of you if you’re –“
“No, thanks,” Steve says, not nearly as flustered as Tony hoped he would be. Damn. Either Tony’s losing his touch, or Steve is just used to his antics by now.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a bore?” Tony doesn’t wait for an answer and turns back to Loki, grinning. “Just us two, then.”
Loki rolls his eyes. “Lucky me. Move, please.”
Tony has to do a double take, because Loki’s tone is biting. He moves at once, letting Loki sit up. “You okay?”
“Just fine, thank you.” Loki stands up and pulls the tie out of his hair, red eyes narrowed. “I’ll take a shower.”
“Uh, okay.” Tony bites his tongue, because he has a feeling that Loki wouldn’t appreciate it if Tony offered to join him. “I’ll see you later?”
“Regrettably.”
Okay, wow.
Tony watches Loki leave the gym, strides wide and chin high, very obviously pissed as fuck.
It’s quiet for a few seconds.
“Don’t you want to run after him?” Steve asks then.
“No,” Tony says, sullen.
“I think you should run after him.”
“And I think you should mind your own business, Uncle Sam.”
So, there’s that. Steve is annoying, Loki is pissed, and Tony takes a shower in the gym even though he doesn’t like getting naked in a semi public space, but Loki clearly doesn’t want his company right now, apparently, because – well, who the hell knows?
Perfect, really.
There are several buildings on the compound, and two of them are intended for the inhabitants. Tony leaves the one that houses the gym and enters the housing complex, hoping that he won’t run into anyone who wants to talk to him. It’s nice here, the sort of place where people usually leave you alone unless you don’t want to be left alone. When you’re a guest, at least. Tony isn’t a guest, he’s part of the team, and that means that sometimes people walk up to him and ask him stuff they should ask Pepper instead. He’s just responsible for bringing ex slaves to safe places, he doesn’t know how the fuck you go about getting a driver’s license as an alien refugee. He didn’t even know what a driver license was when he first came here.
Thankfully, he doesn’t meet anyone on his way up to their floor. They share one of the small suites – bedroom, living room, bathroom, simple furniture and no personal touches except for their things that have been taking over the place bit by bit. A few piles of books next to the out of place looking green chaise longue Loki conjured because the two-seater just wasn’t extra enough. A drawing that Josip left for Loki to find pinned to the fridge in the tiny kitchen nook. Loki’s hair clogging the shower drain just like on the ship; annoying as hell, that, but Tony would take it over the showers in the gym any day.
The door to the bedroom is open, so that’s where Tony goes. He leans against the doorframe, just watching Loki for a moment – he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in fresh clothes and brushing his hair.
“Hi,” Tony says, wary.
“Hello,” Loki replies without looking at him.
“Do you want to tell me why you’re pissed or do I have to guess?”
Loki’s answering glare lets Tony know that that was not the right thing to say.
“You’re not actually jealous of Steve, are you,” he says, even though he knows that that is also not the right thing to say.
The look Loki gives him hurts. It’s all cruel disbelief, like Tony is an idiot for even suggesting that. It’s also an act, Tony knows that. Still.
“Don’t even try,” he snaps before Loki can even say anything. “You are. What, you think I’m into him?”
Loki’s mask cracks. “It certainly seems like it.”
“It – what? I didn’t even do anything!”
“You flirt with him constantly! You flirt with everyone!”
“I’ve never –”
Loki stands up, tossing the hairbrush away. “Just half an hour ago, you offered to tie him up. Yesterday –”
“I was joking!”
“Yesterday, you told him he looked deliciously sweaty when he came back from his run. Earlier this week you suggested an arm wrestling competition and made sure everyone knew it was an innuendo. I heard you tell Banner you’ve always had a thing for clever guys. You get insufferable every time Natasha is around.”
Oh. Well.
“I don’t,” Tony starts, but his mind is just whirring pointlessly and not thinking properly, so he needs to try a second time. “I don’t mean any of that, it’s – I’m just fooling around. You know that.”
“What I know is that your Captain –”
“Uh, so much not my Captain it’s not even funny.”
“– is never alone in a room with you because you make him so uncomfortable. I know that people look at me with pity because they think you sleep with everything that moves –”
“What, because I’m so used to spreading my legs on command? They think it’s just a bad habit by now, is that it?”
“Well, isn’t it?”
That does it. Tony’s anger and remorse turns into ice.
“You know what,” he says, voice even, “if you think you have any say in who I fuck or don’t fuck, tough shit, your highness. You don’t. And if it bothers you so much that people pity you for being with me, then don’t be with me. See if I care.”
He turns around and leaves the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Loki doesn’t come after him.
*
The problem is that they are both stubborn assholes. They don’t speak to each other for two days – Tony doesn’t go to bed, he takes a single nap on the sofa and listens to Loki toss and turn in the bedroom. They avoid each other during the day. It’s not fun.
Pepper notices in five seconds flat that something is wrong, of course. Tony doesn’t want to talk to her about it, he doesn’t want to talk to anyone about it, because he knows what they’d say. He’s the one who fucked up; he usually is.
He makes it to the late afternoon on day three, then he can’t stand it anymore. Loki isn’t in their apartment, he’s not in the common rooms, either, so he must be wandering the grounds. The weather is nice, so Tony can make an educated guess.
He makes tea. It’s a hassle getting the two mugs from the kitchen to the gazebo, but he manages. Loki would just teleport them, but Tony hasn’t yet figured out how to do that without spilling everything.
Loki is in the gazebo. Reading. He’s blue from head to toe, which is by no means unusual, but Tony also knows that Loki changes into his Jotun form when he feels threatened. It’s both heartbreaking and a relief – a lot better than him flat out refusing to acknowledge his origins, which was what Tony was sure would happen when he first found out about the whole Jotun thing. And well, in a way it did – Loki has come a long way from where he started, after all.
“Hey,” Tony says quietly.
Loki doesn’t look up from his book. “Hello.”
Tony stands in the middle of the gazebo like somebody dropped him off at the lost and found. “I, uh, brought tea.”
“I can see that.”
Right. Of course Loki isn’t going to make it easy. Tony rolls his eyes and puts the tray down. The bench that lines the walls of the gazebo is broad and covered with blankets and pillows; they’ve spent a lot of evenings here by now, away from the other people in the house, watching the lake and the sky. Or making out.
Tony sits down on the bench, the tray with the tea between them. He draws one of his legs up, hooking his ankle under his other thigh. Of course he thought about what to say, but now his head is annoyingly blank. “I, uhm. You know I’d never sleep with anyone else, right? If you weren’t okay with it.”
Loki finally looks at him, but that’s not good news, because he looks pissed again. Great, Tony has barely even started and is already fucking this up.
“If I wasn’t okay with it?” Loki echoes, deceptively light. “I see. So if I was okay with it, you would. Should I give you permission to fuck anyone you please, then?”
Tony’s skin itches. He sighs. And swallows down the urge to say that he doesn’t need Loki’s permission to fuck anybody, thanks. That’s not what Loki means and he knows it; this is – it’s a couple thing. Right? When you’re with someone, you don’t just sleep around unless everyone is chill with it. Tony understands that much. It’s just that for Loki, sex is something important and personal, not something you do with everybody who pays.
“I don’t want that.” He rubs his temple, shit, he’s tired. “You know what I’m like, sometimes I can’t even fuck you.”
"Ah, yes. You mourn that, I suppose. So if your past wasn’t in the way, you would –”
“For a start I’d be happy if I could fuck my boyfriend without freaking out, thanks,” Tony snaps, sharp enough that he sees Loki flinch minutely. Crap. Still, though, he’s pissed. “You think I’m already thinking about other people? Fuck.”
Something scurries over Loki’s face. His conscience, maybe. There is a long pause. Finally, he says, “I don’t like that word.”
Tony can’t help it, the petulant tone makes his lips twitch. “I know.”
“It’s juvenile.”
“I know you think it’s juvenile.”
“We agreed on ‘partner’.”
“Yeah,” Tony says. He doesn’t really give a damn what they call each other, or what they introduce each other as to other people, but this kind of stuff is important to Loki for some reason, so he should at least make an effort. Maybe he’ll just scrap the word boyfriend out of his vocabulary. “Sorry. I know.”
Loki closes his book, but doesn’t put it aside just yet. “And you do not ‘freak out’ all the time.”
Tony makes a face. He looks down, plucks at the seam of his hoodie. “Often enough.”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
Tony knows that, too. It bothers him, though. He doesn’t enjoy when it happens, for a start, and he doesn’t like that it happens. Sex has always been easy. He’s good at it. (Well, Pepper says that sex probably hasn’t been easy in a very long time, and he only got good at it because he had to, but Pepper is an annoying know-it-all, so it doesn’t matter.) They’re supposed to be happy now. Tony is not supposed to stop breathing right just because the guy he loves touches him wrong. It’s just a fucking scam.
“I’ll stop,” he says, strained. “Okay? I will. Because I don’t want anyone else. I swear I don’t, and I guess – I thought you knew that.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you.”
Yeah. Tony stops himself from letting out an ugly snort just in time. “Okay.”
“I do,” Loki says, frustration clawing at the edges of his voice. “I just don’t understand why you have to flirt with everyone in your immediate vicinity.”
Tony looks at him – ruby-red eyes, matching the beads in his hair. Tony made them for him, and braided them into his hair often enough. He’s good at doing hair, although he never had long hair himself. He used to help his younger colleagues at the brothel every night. Loki likes being pampered even though he’d never admit it, and one of these Tony will even get him to ask for it. Because Tony likes it. The quiet moments, brushing Loki’s hair, making him float just by caring for him. They never did that in the palace.
“I –“ He wants to say some placating excuse, something like I know, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, but Loki is clever and knows him too well, and he deserves more. “Steve thinks I’m hot.”
Loki looks at him like he lost his mind. “Is that so.”
“He hasn’t said anything,” Tony says. “And he’ll never make a move because he’s got some unresolved issues about being into guys, plus he thinks I’m the most annoying person in the Nine. But I know. I always do.”
Loki just stares at him, waiting.
“And it’s easier –” Tony cuts himself off, swallows, tries again. “When somebody wants me, it’s easier to play along. That way, when they do make a move, I’m the one who initiated it, and I – I’m in control. That was the only way I could be in control for centuries – when somebody wanted me, they’d pay and I’d fuck them and that was it, I had – I had no say in it, ever. So when a lady came into the brothel and paid for the whole night, or when my owner wanted me to fuck his friend, or when –” He stops again, this will hurt, but he has to get it out, because it won’t just go away if there ignore it. “Or when a prince summoned me to the palace because he was in the market for a pleasure slave –”
The corner of Loki’s mouth pulls downward, he clenches his teeth and looks away.
“I didn’t have a choice,” Tony finishes, voice tight. “But if I flirted with that lady before she even knew she’d pay, or if I joked around with my owner’s friend before he told me to bend over – it was easier. It is easier. Because I don’t get to decide who fucks me or when or how, but when I play along, I get to control the narrative.”
It’s quiet for a long while. Loki stares at the lake rather than at Tony, and Tony doesn’t know what else to say. He feels sick.
“You have been thinking about this,” Loki says, finally. He sounds like he feels sick as well.
Tony looks at his hands. “Yeah. The last few days, I – I don’t realize, most of the time. I don’t do it on purpose. It’s become – second nature, I guess. Thess –” He swallows thickly. “Thess told me about it a couple times. She’s the same. Sten is different, far as I know, flirting makes him puke, but – I don’t think it’s – uncommon. But I know it’s messed up, and I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t, but I don’t know how –” He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
“Steve is not going to rape you, Tony,” Loki says, and his voice is almost gentle again, if only because he suddenly sounds so tired. “And I am not, either.”
“I know,” Tony says, and the but you did hangs unspoken in the air between them. Tony can’t bring himself to say it, or talk about it. It’s true. Sure, Loki never ever refused to take no for an answer, but he was a part of the system, and at some point, decades ago, he looked at Tony and thought, this is something I can buy and use. There’s no sweet-talking that.
Tony thinks that, at some point during their last years in the palace, Loki probably begged Tony to stop, and Tony probably didn’t care as much about whether or not it was a part of the game as he should have. He doesn’t remember right now, it’s all a blur, and they hurt each other so much he’s dizzy with it sometimes, drowning in it.
He stands up and leaves the gazebo to throw up into the nearest bush.
Loki is next to him in an instant, but doesn’t touch Tony, thankfully. Tony stays bent over with his hands on his knees until what little was in his stomach is gone. His chest heaves to get some air into his lungs.
“I’m sorry,” he says, choked. “I’ll be better, I swear. I’ll stop. I just wanted to explain.”
“It’s not your fault. I don’t need you to be better, I just –” Loki stops, apparently struggling to find the right words. Tony is always lowkey impressed with himself when he achieves that.
“Fuck,” he says, and sits in the grass because his legs are jelly. He remembers to take care not to land in his own vomit.
“Can I touch you?” Loki asks, desperate.
“Yeah.”
Loki drops to his knees and pulls him close, against Loki’s chest. His skin is Jotun-cold, Tony can feel that even through their clothes. He clings to him and squeezes his eyes shut, working to get his breaths under control.
“What I need,” Loki says, voice low and a little shaky, “is for you to talk to me about these things. Instead of blowing up in my face when I ask.”
“I know. I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said, I swear.”
Loki shushes him. “And if you are scared of Steve – or of me, or anyone –”
“I’m not scared.”
“You’re terrified,” Loki says, and Tony starts to cry.
It’s ugly. It feels ugly, the sobs tearing through his chest and forcing their way out of his throat, too loud, too much snot. Tony can cry pretty, he’s really good at crying pretty, but even he doesn’t manage to turn this into something more easily digestible. Loki doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t let go of Tony, at least, stays close, clings to Tony in return.
“I need you to breathe,” Loki says after who knows how long, voice quiet and close to Tony’s ear. “We will be fine, in the end, I don’t doubt that. We will work it out, but for now, I only need you to breathe.”
Tony tries to get some order back into his breaths, make a system out of it that’s nice and normal and functional instead of just making him dizzy. It takes a few attempts, but in the end, he manages. The crying still doesn’t stop, but the sobs are more quiet now, and they put less pressure on his chest.
Loki pulls away slightly and makes him straighten up so that he can breathe better. He waves his hand and holds something in front of Tony’s face. Tony needs a second to realize that it’s a tissue. A dark green one with golden trims. It’s so ridiculously posh that Tony had to snort a laugh. Also ugly, but Loki smiles back at him anyway. His eyes are wet, too, and tired.
Tony takes the tissue and blows his nose. The sobs turn into a hiccup that is only marginally better.
“Shall we get more comfortable?” Loki asks, his hands still on Tony’s body. It’s to steady him, Tony knows, but he still wants them off. He can hardly tell Loki that, though, not after Loki let him cry on him for… too long, probably.
“Yeah,” Tony says, voice still thick.
Loki stands up and pulls Tony along. Tony lets Loki lead him back into the gazebo where they can sit down on the benches instead of grass and gravel. He keeps the tissue crumpled up in his hand. Thankfully, Loki lets go of him as they sit, and Tony brings a few more inches between them, trying to make it look like he’s just looking for a comfortable position.
“I’m sorry,” Tony says again. “For what I said, and for – not listening, and everything. I swear I wasn’t really – aware. Of what I’ve been doing – I mean, I knew, obviously, it’s not like I was sleep walking or anything, it’s just that I didn’t think about it, about what it might look like to others, to – to you.”
Loki shakes his head. “No, I am sorry. I would not have reacted like I did if I had known.” Something dark wanders over his face, he looks away. “Really, I should have known. I didn’t think past my jealousy.”
“How could you have known?” Tony asks. It’s a serious question, because well, it’s not obvious, isn’t it? He hopes it isn’t. He’d feel even more pathetic if everyone knew.
“I can tell when you are putting on a show. Or at least –” Loki hesitates. “Usually, when it is just the two of us, I can.”
Tony doesn’t think of it as putting on a show. Maybe it’s true, in a way – it’s not like he ever actually means it when he flirts with Steve. He doesn’t think about it, either, though. It’s just what he does. During sex, yes, sometimes he’s somewhere else while his body goes through the motions, but – that doesn’t carry over to basic day-to-day interactions, does it? That thought makes his chest go tight again, no, that’s not fair, it’s not fair to finally put him somewhere safe and still make everything he does and says and thinks about the shit he went through. It’s got to end at some point, right? Doesn’t he deserve to be free of all that?
“Tony,” Loki says, and Tony realizes that he got lost in his own head again.
He tries for a smile, but Loki just gives him a dry look, probably seeing right through him. He reaches for Tony’s hands and Tony lets him, allowing the touch to remind him where he is, and who is at his side.
“Do you feel safe here?” Loki asks, gentle but not too gentle. “Do correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you felt – better, when we were traveling.”
Tony lifts his shoulders and looks back at the compound building he can see from here, big, steel and glass. He likes it here, seriously, he does. He just likes the privacy of his own ship a little more.
“Lots of people around,” he says slowly. “Puts me on edge, I guess. But yeah, I feel –” Well, no. “I know I’m safe here.”
“You are,” Loki says. “And not only because nobody here wants to harm you. You are free to say no without having to fear for your life. People here might find you attractive, but that is not the only thing they see in you, not the only thing by far. It’s not the only thing I see in you. I –” His gaze flickers away. “I apologize if I made you feel otherwise. Implying that you would sleep with anyone who wanted you was cruel.”
“We both lashed out,” Tony says because gods, he’s exhausted, and his throat hurts and his head hurts and he really doesn’t want to exchange apologies for the next two hours. “It’s – maybe let’s just try to handle it better next time.”
Loki’s mouth twitches. “It’s encouraging that you believe there will be a next time.”
“I don’t just believe that, I know. The encouraging bit is that I don’t think it’ll keep us from –” Tony gestures between the two of them. “You know.”
“Ah, yes. Your eloquence never fails to astound me.”
Tony huffs and lets himself fall back against the pillows on the bench, making himself comfortable. He tugs at Loki, and Loki cuddles up against him right away. There, that’s better. Tony can finally fucking breathe again.
“Thank you,” he says.
“Hmm?”
“For – I don’t know. Not running off. I know I’m not – I mean, I make things complicated. And you’re very… patient. You’ve been really patient. I don’t – take that for granted, that’s all.”
Loki rests his head on Anthony’s shoulder. His skin is cool, soothing. “I love you.”
Tony smiles. Yeah, that explains it, probably. “I love you, too.”
*
Tony wakes up with a sore neck and a healthy amount of disorientation. Loki is right next to him, which makes waking up somewhere strange a lot easier to bear. The last initial panic fades when Tony recognizes the gazebo. It’s dark by now. Tony did not plan to fall asleep out here, but well, he probably needed it. They both did, apparently, because Loki is still fast asleep, his arm heavy on Tony’s stomach.
Tony yawns. Early evening, judging by the state of the sky. He’s freezing a little, probably also because of the closeness of Loki’s body. Loki’s breaths are even and quiet, and every exhale makes a soft noise that Tony can’t call snoring because Loki might kill him just for thinking that. A prince doesn’t snore, thank you very much. Not even an ex-prince.
Tony puts his hand on Loki’s back. He wishes Loki wasn’t dressed. Tony wants to touch him. That’s not unusual, of course, he wants to touch Loki all the time. It’s the being touched that is difficult sometimes. Loki knows that, and he really has been patient about it, hasn’t pushed for more even once. He makes sure that Tony can see his hands during sex, avoids sudden movements. And the sex is good. Intimate. Soft. They haven’t had much of it since they’re here, but – it was good on the ship, anyway. Actually, now that he’s thinking about it, Tony isn’t sure when they last… hm.
Maybe he really hasn’t been feeling well.
And that’s not fair, is it, because – well, he was fine before. It’s been almost eleven years since he left Asgard, and sure, the first few were shit, but then things got better. He got better. And now he’s here, with Loki, living in a building filled with ex-slaves like him who are still in the process of finding their footing, and it’s bringing back all these memories. The fear. Loki himself plays a big part in that, probably. It shouldn’t be possible for a person to be both comfort and minefield, but the way his lips sometimes curl into that small, deprecating smile is the best reminder of darker times.
Tony can’t tell him that, of course. It’s not fair. Loki already blames himself more than enough, Tony is tired of adding to the pile. Maybe, if they could just erase those decades they lived together and start again –
Well, no.
Loki stirs, and Tony stops stroking his back in order not to wake him up the rest of the way. Loki settles down again after a moment, breath huffing softly against Tony’s chest. He will wake up soon, Tony knows the signs well enough, but it will take a few more minutes.
Tony starts petting Loki’s back again. He’s wearing a tunic he bought back on Alfheimr, light fabric that doesn’t irritate his heritage lines – Tony can feel one of them through the shirt, slightly raised compared to the rest of his skin. He follows it with a fingertip. He doesn’t want to do any erasing, really. There were good things, too. Books in front of his bedroom door, pulling pranks on Thor together, Loki reading letters he got from court members in silly voices. And sex, of course. The sex was pretty good, a lot of the time.
He wants that back. The lighter, playful stuff. Maybe that is too much to ask after everything that happened, but he wants it more than anything, and not only for himself. Loki needs it just as much. And they’re not doing too badly, really, apart from hiccups like the last couple days. The other night they teamed up during Monopoly without speaking a single word about it and absolutely wiped the floor with everyone else and it was fun. Being with Loki is (still) fun. He’s still a sweet little shit under all the sad. Starts drama just for the sake of it, teaches Josip how to play chess, looks at Tony with such surprise when he suggests tying him up. Like he can’t imagine Tony actually wanting that. Well, that’s the sad making an appearance. Either way, Tony would love to prove him wrong. And himself, too.
“Don’t stop.”
The sleepy voice pulls Tony out of his brooding-turned-daydreaming. Loki’s eyes are still closed, but yeah, definitely awake now.
“Hmm?”
Loki rolls his shoulders back slightly, pressing even closer against Tony’s side. “That.”
Smiling, Tony keeps up the touching, tracing the line on Loki’s back up and down. “Feels nice?”
“Mhh. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“It’s okay. I only just woke up a couple minutes ago.”
Loki makes a content noise. “And is there a reason you’re staring at me like a lunatic.”
“You don’t know that I am.”
“I can tell,” Loki says, eyes still shut.
Right. Tony hums. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re pretty great?”
“Oh, all the time, yes.”
Liar. Tony snorts and reaches further down to slide his hand under Loki’s tunic. He thinks the heritage line is a little more raised than before, but he’s not sure. It’s not open yet, at any rate. Loki shivers when Tony touches him without the fabric in the way. He puts his hand on Tony’s chest, fingers grasping at his shirt.
“We shouldn’t do this here,” he murmurs, finally opening his eyes. They’re soft and bleary, rubies peeking up at Tony from under the lashes.
It’s still strange sometimes, expecting green and seeing red. But by now, this is no less Loki than his other form, and fuck, he’s pretty.
“I’m not doing anything,” Tony says, unable to stifle his smirk.
Loki rolls his eyes and pushes himself up into a sitting position, squinting at their surroundings. “It’s late. You can continue not doing anything inside.”
“Does that mean you’ll let me tie you up?”
That surprised look again. Hesitation, too. “Tony.”
“What?”
“I don’t know if –”
“It’s fine if you don’t want to.”
“That is not the point.”
“Then what’s the point?”
“You threw up into a bush,” Loki says.
“Ah.” Tony pauses. “Yeah, I can see how that’s not sexy.”
“It’s not about whether or not that was sexy,” Loki says and great, he’s starting to sound exasperated again. He stands up and stretches his arms above his head. Tony hears something crack. “The point is whether or not you are ready, or even willing.”
“I’m willing,” Tony says, distracted by the arch of Loki’s back. And his mile-long legs.
Loki gives him an unimpressed look.
Tony stands up. Together, they leave the gazebo. “Look, if you’re waiting for the moment I’m magically healed and won’t ever freak out about anything again, I don’t think that’s coming.”
“I am not waiting for that,” Loki says dryly. “I fear you will be the one to despair the second something doesn’t go smoothly.”
“Hold on a second, I don’t despair. Ever. I’m not the type.”
Loki hugs his stomach, and Tony would think it was because of the cool evening air, but well, Jotun. “It’s not like it was before, Tony.”
Tony’s throat tightens. “Exactly.”
Loki looks at him, frowning. They walk up the path to the main building. Nobody else is around, they’re probably all inside having dinner.
“It’s not the same,” Tony says. “And I think – well, It’s just us now. No Asgard, no – slavery, just us. No bitter aftertaste anymore, you know? Isn’t that a good thing?”
“I suppose.”
“Yeah. And I – I know we’ve dabbled a bit, but a command here and there isn’t the same as me controlling the whole scene. I want to do it properly. And I know it’s messy, but I need to know. If I still can.”
“If you still can?”
Well, here comes the hard part. Tony buries his hands in his pockets. “In a way you enjoy. In a way that’s – good, for both of us. I think I can, but I don’t – I don’t know. I don’t trust it anymore. Myself.”
Loki is quiet for a while. Only a few feet away from the entrance of the building, he asks, “What would you like to try?”
That’s not a yes, but it’s a start. Tony’s head still draws a blank, because he really – he just didn’t get to the details, really. “Nothing extreme. I’d like to tie you up so you can’t move much at all, and then make you feel really good. That’s – kinda it. But it’s okay if you don’t want that, or not yet.”
Loki holds the door open for him. He’s silent again, expression thoughtful. Maybe this is asking too much. Loki feels trapped easily, too, after a year spent in a small, dark cell – maybe he doesn’t want to be tied up at all. Which would be fine. Tony can come up with something else. He just wishes Loki would –
“We can do that.”
Say something.
Tony stares at Loki. They wait for the elevator. Loki’s cheeks are a little purple. Adorable.
“You’re serious?” Tony asks.
Loki puts his hands behind his back. For a moment he looks so much like he did in Asgard that Tony has to blink – perfect posture, unassuming expression, about to ruin someone’s political career with less than ten words. Blue-skinned and red-eyed, but still retreating into the prince he was raised to be when he gets nervous.
“You are not the only one who has been thinking about such things,” Loki says, all business. “The only thing we’ll gain by waiting is more pressure.”
“You’re cute,” Tony tells him.
Loki gives him his famous unamused side eye. He can’t be truly pissed, though, because he takes Tony’s hand and pulls him into the elevator. He doesn’t let go when the door closes.
“You took me by surprise the other day,” Loki says, voice quiet. “I’ve been fretting about if and how to suggest…” Loki sighs. “And of course you just did.”
“Yeah, I didn’t really think it through.” Which he proved two seconds later by involving Steve, but Tony doesn’t want to bring that up again just now. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t do any fretting.”
“Oh, I know. Did you –”
The elevator door opens and reveals somebody waiting on the other side. It’s one of their neighbors, a Vanir guy who already lived on their floor when they arrived and has been talking about taking the next ship home ever since. He steps aside so they can leave the elevator; they exchange smiles.
“Do you think he will ever leave?” Loki asks as they make their way down the hall to their apartment.
“Eventually, sure. Some take longer than others.” Tony pats down his pockets until he finds the key card. He pulls it out and opens the door, letting Loki go in first. “What did you want to say?”
“Hm?”
“You were about to ask me something.”
“Oh, yes.” Loki takes off his shoes and uses his bare foot to push them to their usual spot next to the door. “I was wondering if you were planning to try it tonight. We don’t have any rope.”
“We do have an expert mage,” Tony says, taking off his jacket.
“And an apprentice who could use the practice.”
“My ropes might fall apart in the middle of it, I’m not risking that.”
“I trust you to manage half an hour.”
Tony raises a brow at him.
Loki pauses for a second, eyes a little wide. “Well, obviously half an hour is… not long enough.”
“Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Loki echoes again, following Tony into the living room.
Tony wonders if Loki’s surprise is warranted. He can’t really remember – in Asgard he probably stopped taking his time at some point, stopped putting in the effort needed to do this properly. So Tony wanting to do that now maybe isn’t as obvious as he would like it to be. Tony is so desperate to prove himself – it won’t be like that, it’s all different now, I’m different now, I can do better – that it stops being a want and starts being a need.
“Yes,” he says, standing in the middle of the living room like an idiot, having been silent for too long. He needs to get out of his head. He won’t be able to do this right if he gets lost in his own thoughts every few minutes. “Yes, I want to do it tonight. If you’re up for it.”
He looks at Loki, and Loki holds his gaze without flinching. Still nervous – Tony can read that in the line of Loki’s shoulders – but he’s made his decision.
“I am,” Loki says. “So, how do we…”
He trails off. Right. Tony wishes this didn’t feel awkward. He’s good at handling awkward, or was; a lot of clients were shy and uncertain about how the whole thing was supposed to go – he shakes off that thought. This isn’t a client, this is Loki. Who isn’t a client anymore, and never will again. So. Out of his head, starting now. One step after the other
“I want to brush my teeth,” Tony says, because the combination of having thrown up and then slept just isn’t any fun. “And your hair’s a bit of a mess, so go ahead and take out the braids, I’ll redo them for you.”
Loki smiles, finally looking excited rather than nervous. Still cute. “Very well.”
Tony goes into the bathroom and brushes his teeth. He takes a leak, too, and grabs Loki’s hairbrush. He finds Loki waiting in front of the door when he leaves the room. The braids are gone, Loki’s hair tumbling loosely down to his shoulders. And past his shoulders; it’s gotten long. Tony is tempted to leave it like that, but he knows Loki prefers it tied or braided back so it won’t fall into his face.
“I’ll be right there,” Loki says, not quite meeting Tony’s gaze. “I have the beads here.”
It sounds more like a question than anything else. Tony smiles.
“Yes, perfect.” He holds out a hand and takes the ruby and emerald beads Loki and always puts in his braids, then steps aside so that Loki can slip into the bathroom. “I’ll be in the living room.”
Loki nods and closes the door. Tony goes to find something he can hurt Loki with. Not a lot, just – enough. Maybe he should just use his hands. But what he thinks would work best is a paddle or something, but well, they don’t have any toys, which is a travesty, they have to fix that. He opens a drawer in the kitchen, looking for – ah. Yes, that’ll do.
He waits for Loki in the living room. Loki can’t only be taking a piss, he’s been in there too long for that. Tony doesn’t hear the shower, though. He sits down on Loki’s chaise longue, taking a look at the armrests. They’re not solid, the dark wood curving up from the seat. It’s more an elongated armchair, really, although the backrest is a bit reclined. It’ll do nicely, all in all. Maybe not as nicely as Loki’s preposterous four poster bed in Asgard, but you can’t have everything.
Loki comes into the room, and Tony is happy to see that he’s still blue. He smiles and moves to the edge of the chaise longue, both feet on the floor.
“Come here.”
Loki obeys, stopping right in front of Tony. Tony puts his hands on Loki’s hips and strokes down over his thighs. Loki looks down at him, barely breathing – anticipating Tony’s next move. Tony isn’t sure what Loki wants right now. Gentle? Stern? Cruel? Loki has always enjoyed a good mix of everything, coming the hardest when the control was totally out of his hands. Tony wants this to be perfect.
“I’d really like it if you took off your clothes,” he says, testing the waters.
Loki takes off his tunic without a word and drops it on the floor. His pants follow right after. He isn’t wearing underwear. No surprise there; when he’s in his Jotun form he wears as little clothes as he can get away with. Tony can’t really imagine what it feels like – Loki says his skin is thicker like this, less sensitive, and at the same time some fabrics and textures drive him crazy, and not in a good way. Well, not always in a good way. The heritage lines that trail over his entire body definitely do it in a good way if they’re treated right.
“I can shift,” Loki offers haltingly. “If you –”
“No, you’re fine,” Tony cuts him off, a hand back on Loki’s hip to give him a reassuring squeeze. The skin is cold under Tony’s hand, not as supple as it is in Loki’s Aesir form – more smooth and firm, it barely even gives when you press your fingertips against it. It took some time getting used to, but Tony hasn’t ever thought it to be anything other than exciting. “Beautiful. Get on your knees, love, I’ll do your hair.”
Loki hesitates only a moment, then he turns around and sinks to his knees, running a hand through his hair. Tony nudges it out of the way.
“Hands on your thighs,” he says. “And keep your back straight.”
He lets a hint of steel sneak into his tone. It comes to him easily, and just as easily Loki obeys – he’s still a vision on his knees, although he doesn’t relax into it as much as Tony would like him to. Loki’s breaths are a little faster; Tony listens to them closely.
“Scoot back a little,” he orders, a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “There you go, yes. Good.”
He runs a hand through Loki’s hair and gathers it on his back – he used to wear it straightened and combed back, but now that it’s longer it’s also wavy. Tony hopes Loki won’t cut it off when Thor announces his next visit.
Tony reaches for the brush and starts pulling it through Loki’s hair. There are some knots he gets rid of carefully; this is familiar by now. After just a few minutes, Loki’s shoulders slump slightly, relaxing.
“I thought we could defile your reading nook,” Tony says, keeping his tone casual. Maybe they shouldn’t have this talk while Loki is already naked and kneeling, but at least it doesn’t feel awkward anymore. “We’d probably break the bed if we did it there.”
“Probably,” Loki agrees. He turns his head to look at the chaise longue. “Yes, that might work.”
“Yeah. And I got a spatula from the kitchen.”
“A spatula.”
“Yes, the wooden one. Nothing too rough, just to warm you up a bit. If you’d like that, that is.”
“A spatula,” Loki says again. He wrinkles his nose and looks forward again. “Yes, I suppose I would, but it has little style.”
“Hey, it’ll work like a charm.” Tony brushes Loki’s hair back over his head. A single braid, he thinks. It’ll be long enough to reach down to Loki’s collar bones. Oh, that will look pretty. “But we could make a trip to Manhattan and get you a nice leather one.”
“Mh. With diamonds.”
“For sure. On the flat part, obviously, so it really stings.”
Loki shifts his weight slightly. “Do they have toys like that here?”
“They have toys like that everywhere,” Tony says, smiling. “Nothing magic like in Asgard, obviously, but humans are creative enough to make up for it.”
“I assume they do not have cuffs that work like ours.” Loki sighs. “I enjoyed them a lot.”
Ours. Tony’s smile widens. He enjoyed the cuffs they had back in Asgard a lot, too. The gold looked lovely on Loki, for one thing, and for the other the magic handiwork was flawless. I bet we could make something similar. I can handle the metalwork and you the magic.”
Loki hums. Tony touches his jaw and tilts up his face, making him look up so that Tony can get a better look at what his hands are doing on the top of Loki’s head. He makes the braid a little complicated with smaller strands just in order to put in the ruby beads.
“Tony?”
Loki turns his head to the side as he speaks, and that doesn’t work. Tony frees a hand and touches the side of Loki’s jaw to make him look back forward. “Yes?”
“What am I to call you?”
“Oh,” Tony says. “Tony’s fine.”
“Hm.”
Tony pauses. He’s fluent in Loki, and he’s pretty sure that noise means you think that was the right answer? How droll. “Unless you’d prefer something else?”
“You know I always enjoyed calling you Sir.”
Yes. Because he liked the role reversal, the taboo of it. They both did. But it’s not the same anymore now that they are both free, is it? Tony figured it would be for the best to have as few things to remind them of Before as possible.
“I think it would help,” Loki adds. “To have a clear divider between how things usually are and – this.”
Ah. Tony swallows. “I need a hair tie.”
Loki conjures one and holds it up. Tony finishes the braid and flips it forward to rest on Loki’s shoulder. “Okay?”
Loki nods, running his fingers along the braid. “Thank you. So?”
Tony gets it. Loki wants to make clear that this is a game. A clear starting and end point, nothing spilling over into the rest of the time. Back when they were still on the ship he already told Tony that he didn’t want any punishments for the time being, and this ties in well with that. No punishments, no rules that are in effect all day every day. That’s… good. Probably. Tony feels a spark of discomfort because that means he won’t always be in control but gods, he doesn’t want that, anyway, it would just be – easier. It’s easier to keep yourself safe when you control everything. Tony can do that in small doses, though, in a way they both want. And he’ll be safe the rest of the time, nonetheless, because he is safe with Loki.
He knows that. His body and mind just forget about it sometimes.
“I get what you mean;” he says, his hands on Loki’s bare shoulders. His thumbs rub circles into the azure skin. “It’s a good idea. We don’t have to use Sir, though. It can be something else.”
“You don’t like it?”
“No, I do. I just thought – it’s what we used before, so.”
“I like it,” Loki says, and Tony isn’t even surprised.
Of course Loki likes it. He’s been wanting it – has been calling Tony Sir now and then already, whenever they carefully treaded into this territory. He’s been asking Tony for this, in his own way.
“Sir, then,” Tony says. He takes a breath. “Okay. We’ll go slow. Just tell me to stop when you don’t like whatever I’m doing and I will. And we need a word for when you want to stop the whole thing, no questions asked –”
“Tarragon.”
Tony’s thumbs stop moving. That is the word they agreed on ages ago, in Asgard. Loki didn’t use it often. “We can come up with a different one.”
“It’s just a word,” Loki says softly. “I trust you to listen when I use it.”
Tony leans forward to kiss the top of Loki’s head. Loki’s hair smells nice. He pulls back, clearing his throat. “Turn around.”
Loki shuffles around on his knees. He’s smiling, and the braid turned out lovely, and there’s that fucking purple blush again. Tony cups the back of Loki’s neck and leans down to kiss him. He doesn’t make himself be soft and gentle. That seems to be the right choice, because Loki groans and opens his mouth for Tony’s tongue right away, allowing him to control the pace. He’s not passive, just – pliant. Relaxing into the hold of Tony’s hand, gasping against Tony’s mouth. Tony allows himself to be hungry, just for a moment. He slides his thumb over the side of Loki’s neck, tracing the heritage line leading down from his jaw with a nail, and Loki shudders.
Tony pulls back, licking his lips. Loki tastes different in his true form, fresher somehow, and Tony can’t get enough of it. Loki looks up at him, pupils blown wide amidst the deep red of his eyes. His lips are still parted, glistening, a deeper blue than his skin.
“You’re lovely,” Tony tells him, voice low. “Now, conjure the rope so I can finally tie you up. Four lengths should be enough.”
Loki stares at him blankly for a brief moment, then swallows visibly. A quick glance down tells Tony that Loki’s cock is rock hard, wet at the tip. Pretty. Finally, Loki nods and holds up his hands. A green shimmer of magic, and he’s holding the rope – a deep black, soft looking, not too thick. It’s perfect.
“Good boy,” Tony says and takes the rope from him. He puts three of the loops aside and stands up. His own hard cock strains uncomfortably against his jeans, but he ignores it for the time being. “Stand up.”
He lets some sharpness into his voice, wanting to see how Loki reacts. Loki scrambles onto his feet as if he can’t obey fast enough, gaze fixed on Tony. His blush creeps up to the tips of his ears. He did always like it when Tony was stern and cocky about ordering him around. Although he loved the praise just as much.
“Sit down,” Tony orders, nodding at the chaise longue. “Lean back against the backrest. Knees up, legs spread.”
Loki ducks his head a little. Nervous. His fingers fidget. But he obeys, sitting down between the armrests and leaning back. He doesn’t draw up his legs right away, but Tony just watches, waiting patiently.
“Sir,” Loki says, breath hitching. The title sounds nice rolling off his tongue, like coming home.
“Embarrassed?” Tony asks, mouth twitching into a smirk. God, how is Loki still so adorable. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. Or touched. Or been inside of.”
Loki rolls his eyes. “I know.”
His throat and chest look a little purple, too, here and there. He would always get those endearing red blotches when he was aroused, and apparently it’s the same in his Jotun form. Tony hasn’t noticed that before. He has touched Loki like this quite a few times by now, because Loki is mostly fine with touching. It’s the being looked at that scares him. Tony knows that – it’s partly because he chose this position. He wants Loki to expose himself anyway. Because that’s hot, first of all, and also he needs to get it into his thick skull that Tony could look at him for hours and not find a single disgusting thing about him.
“I said I’d make you feel good, honey,” Tony says. “I want free access to everything. Go on.”
Finally, Loki pulls up his knees and spreads them apart, holding onto his shins. His cock is still hard, smearing precome over his belly. His cunt is still hidden by the heritage line above it, the one that leads down from the head of his cock to between his cheeks.
“Very nice,” Tony says, smiling, and steps closer to the chaise longue so that he can run his hand over Loki’s leg, down his inner thigh. “I think I’ll keep you like this for a while.”
There is a heritage line here, too, already raised under Tony’s fingertips. He rubs along it, pressing his thumb in, and Loki trembles when the line opens, revealing the sensitive flesh on the inside. Tony rests his hand a little above Loki’s knee and rubs his thumb up and down one spot instead of tracing the whole line, and Loki’s breaths quicken again.
“Feels nice, huh?” Tony asks.
Loki nods quickly.
Tony presses his nail into the line. “I do expect you to answer when I ask you something.”
“Yes, Sir,” Loki says at once, like he’s just been waiting for that rebuke. Hel, he probably has been – testing the waters just like Tony. He’s still staring at Tony, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
Yeah, Tony bets he is. He shakes his head, smiling, and puts one knee on the chaise longue so that he can touch Loki better. He does follow the whole heritage line that leads over Loki’s inner thigh now, and Loki’s leg shakes under the touch. He could hold this position for quite a while, probably, at least until the pleasure gets too much. Tony would like to see him try and hold still, but he thinks they both prefer Loki being tied down for this.
“Sir,” Loki says, voice rough. Begging already? Well, not quite. There’s still a lot of attitude to it.
“I know,” Tony says, thumbing at the line more firmly. “It’s so cute how much these lines affect you. So how about I tie you down nice and tight so you can’t get away, and then I touch all of them until you lose it?”
Loki’s head falls back against the chaise longue with a dull thud. He takes a breath. “Yes, please. Sir.”
“Good. Bring your ass further down, then, just a bit.” He lets go of Loki’s thigh and pats the armrest. “Legs here.”
Loki frowns – also adorable – and scoots a little further down so that he’s half lying rather than sitting straight. He puts his legs on the armrests, but not quite how Tony wants them.
“No, pull your knees back up,” he orders. “Just your shins.”
He puts a hand on Loki’s lower leg to help him along, and Loki obeys quickly, drawing his knees up until he’s almost bent in half, the heels of his feet propped up on the armrests.
“Good boy,” Tony says, pulling the loop of rope apart. He pats Loki’s ankle. “Your wrists here.”
Loki wriggles around a bit, but then manages to reach around his knees and hold onto his ankles. He’s bendy, and he’s so pretty and obedient, and Tony needs to take off his pants, this is getting uncomfortable. He keeps ignoring it.
“There we go,” Tony praises. “Good. Hold still.”
“Yes, Sir,” Loki says, watching Tony closely. His mouth is slightly open, eyes dark.
Tony ties Loki’s left ankle to the armrest, and then his wrist to his ankle. He manages to do it with one length of rope – the movements come to him easily, even though it’s been ages since he last did this. Not like he couldn’t use some practice; the whole thing could look prettier, but it does the job.
He uses more rope to tie Loki’s elbow and knee together, and then again to the loop of the armrest, to make sure he can’t close his knees. He realizes, probably too late, that like this the rope sits over the two heritage lines that run down Loki’s legs. Since they don’t just open to Tony’s touch, they will open for the rope, too, if it rubs against them enough. Tony tied it tightly enough that it won’t move much, but when Loki struggles –
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says. “If it doesn’t feel good against your lines, that’s fine.”
“It feels good so far,” Loki says, voice cracking just a little.
Tony smiles and gets more rope to do the other side. He listens to Loki’s breaths, quick but even, still controlled. It calms Tony down, just like handling the rope. When he is done, he lets his gaze roam over the finished work, and can’t help but cup his cock through his pants to adjust himself. Loki twitches, his arm pulling at the rope a little while he stares at Tony’s crotch.
“This is perfect,” Tony says and slides his fingers over the rope, down to Loki’s inner thigh where he played with the line earlier. It’s still open, must be so sensitive. “All exposed. Best thing I’ve seen in years.”
Loki makes a soft sound low in his throat. Needy. He tries to move again, squirming against the rope. “Thank you, Sir.”
“My pleasure. How does it feel to be all pretty and helpless for me, hm? Do you like it?”
“Yes. Yes, Sir.”
They both know that Loki could magic the rope away with a thought, of course. Hm. Tony really needs to practice his conjuring. Or have Loki spell some real rope so he won’t be able to break free of it… make him actually helpless. Oh, that would be fun.
“Yeah, I can tell.” Tony kneels on the chaise longue again, this time on both knees right in front of Loki, so that he can look at and touch him better. He slides both hands down Loki’s legs, awakening the heritage line on his other leg as well, and finally reaches for Loki’s cock. “You’re leaking so nicely.”
Loki groans when Tony wraps his fingers around him, nice and tight just like Loki likes it. Loki feels so cold in Tony’s hand, and Tony can only imagine how the heat of Tony’s body feels for Loki. He gives Loki a few slow strokes, watching the muscles of his stomach quiver.
“So, here’s the thing,” Tony says, keeping up the touches. “Look at me, darling, I’m talking to you.”
Loki sighs and meets Tony’s gaze, eyes a little glassy. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good. You’re doing so well, giving this to me. I’m so proud of you, love, do you know that?” Tony rubs his thumb over the head of Loki’s cock, teasing the small slit there. “You deserve to feel really good. So I want to make you come, a lot, and you’ll be a good boy and come for me whenever you can. Yeah?”
Loki’s eyes widen a little more. Poor thing probably thought Tony would deny him. “Yes, Sir?”
“Yes,” Tony says firmly. “You will. No need to ask for permission, since I’m giving it to you right now. But you will thank me every time, right when you’re coming, with a nice, full sentence. ‘Thank you for making me come, Sir.’ Is that clear?”
Loki nods and hips twitch up, trying to thrust into Tony’s hand. “Yes, Sir.”
“Do you understand? I don’t care if you’re all dizzy and fucked out in an hour, if I let you come, you’ll thank me like a good pet.”
Loki stares, and his cock throbs in Tony’s hand. “Or else?”
Tony smiles. Loki did say he didn’t want punishments for the time being, so this is… tricky. Tony does think that Loki doesn’t want to get away with disobedience unscathed. He’s always been so desperate to be good.
“Well, if you forget, you’ll just have to apologize and beg me for forgiveness, won’t you? I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”
A little groveling will be punishment enough, probably. For Loki’s ego, anyway. If he will even still care about such things the first time he forgets. Which he will, Tony doesn’t doubt that.
“Yes, Sir,” Loki says, almost a whisper. “I understand.”
“Good boy. Still comfortable? Does anything hurt?”
Loki shakes his head. “Comfortable, Sir.”
Tony hums and keeps playing with Loki’s cock. It doesn’t take long until Loki is squirming again, cheeks now flushed a bright purple. His hips keep trying to move, but struggle to do so with his arms and legs tied.
“You’ve got such a pretty cock,” Tony says, but lets go of it to run his hands over Loki’s stomach instead, up to his chest. He plays with the heritage lines there, coaxing them open until they make for a nice, dark blue pattern of flesh that’s just begging to be touched. “Pretty everything, really.”
Loki groans. The touches make him shudder. But his eyes are still wide open, dark but alert. He isn’t letting himself go just yet.
“Can you come just from these?” Tony asks, curious, and dips his fingers into the lines, rubbing and teasing. “You haven’t before, have you?”
Loki shakes his head. “No – no, Sir.”
“Do you think you can?”
“I –” Loki takes a shaky breath. “I don’t know. Maybe. Not just now, I think.”
“That’s okay. We’ll just see what happens, no pressure.”
Tony flicks his thumb over Loki’s nipple, but it doesn’t give him the reaction he usually gets. Loki’s nipples are less sensitive in this form, he thinks. He goes back to the lines. Opens them up all the way, from Loki’s throat over his pecs down to his sides and abs. That does earn him a gasp. Several, in fact, nice breathy little noises that make Tony’s cock ache.
“What do you want?” Tony asks, looking at Loki’s face.
Loki needs a moment to answer, distracted by Tony’s touches. He holds Tony’s gaze bravely, but doesn’t seem to come up with a good answer. “I – I’m not sure, whatever you –”
Tony pinches the inner flesh of one of Loki’s lines, and Loki cries out. “No. Proper answer, please.”
Loki struggles for air for a second, then finally manages to get some words out. “That. Again. Please, Sir.”
Smiling, Tony gently traces the line he pinched – it’s the one that leads in a pretty curve around Loki’s right pectoral muscle, encircling his nipple. His chest is a little different here, not bigger, just softer, which probably has something to do with him being able to get pregnant in this form. The one and only time Tony mentioned Loki’s “tits”, Loki almost slapped him. In Tony’s defense, he was just praising Loki, seriously, because the slight softness there feels divine. Very comfy during cuddling.
“This?” Tony asks innocently, and pinches the dark blue flesh again. Loki jerks and keens, oh, that must really hurt. “Do you want me to hurt you, sweetheart?”
Loki bites his lip and nods. “Please, Sir.”
“Such good manners,” Tony murmurs and pulls back a little, looking down at Loki’s cock. He chuckles. “You’re so hard. And look –” He rubs two fingers against the underside of Loki’s cock, then further down, where the heritage line, a little thicker than the others, is looking soft and inviting. “You’re opening up for me, too.”
Loki writhes a bit and looks away. Tony rubs his fingers over the line, not parting it just yet. Loki is just as cold here as everywhere else, at least on the surface. Tony knows that inside, Loki is tight and wet and warm, and it takes all his self control to not just push his fingers in right away. Or even better, his cock. But this isn’t about him – at least not yet.
He touches Loki’s cock again, stroking it slowly from base to tip. More precome gushes out of the tip, easing the way. Loki groans and his feet flex, back arching away from the chaise longue. Tony uses his other hand to tease Loki’s lines, and when he can tell that Loki is getting close, he stops and reaches for the spatula.
“I want to hit you,” he says, using his free hand to tease the heritage line on the underside of Loki’s cock again, fingers sliding down to his cunt. “Let’s see what color this skin gets from a nice beating, hm?”
Loki already looks a mess, eyes hungry. He swallows visibly, then nods. “Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Please, Sir,” Loki says, quickly, still breathing heavily. “Hit me.”
So simple, but so effective. Oh, Tony wants to hit him silly. And fuck him silly, too, but that’s a given. He moves back a little so that he can use the spatula properly and looks at Loki’s ass, nice and tight, angled up slightly since he’s nearly bent in half. His ass and thighs make for a perfect canvas. His cock is obscenely hard, and Tony spots some glistening around the heritage line hiding his cunt. He’s wet.
Tony guides the tip of the spatula over Loki’s inner thigh, following the heritage line that leads up to his hip. He presses the wood into the line a little, watching the flesh split. It still looks a little strange, if he’s honest, like it should hurt, but Loki just moans like it’s one of the best things he’s ever felt. Tony presses the spatula against Loki’s cunt, parting the heritage line with it, and Loki’s hips jerk. The wood comes away a little darker when Tony pulls it back.
“Gods, you’re hot,” Tony mutters, adjusting his grip on the spatula. “l love you.”
“I –”
Whatever Loki meant to say turns into a gasp when Tony hits him for the first time – harder than he would have if Loki were in his Aesir for him. For his Jotun skin, it seems to be just hard enough.
“You were saying?” Tony asks and keeps letting the flat end of the spatula come down on Loki’s ass, the backs of his thighs, steady slaps that won’t hurt as much as just make him feel the burn of it.
“I love you, too, Sir.”
The words leave Loki in a rush in between hits, and Tony almost stops hitting him in order to kiss him instead. But he can tell that Loki is really getting into it, squirming and trying to push his ass further up, wanting more. Tony gives him more. He gives him more until Loki’s ass is a nice glowing pinkish blue all over. Loki cries out every time the wood comes down across one of his lines. His eyes get a look Tony hasn’t seen in forever – glassy, unfocused, like he’s getting drunk.
He’s beautiful.
When he thinks it’s been enough, Tony drops the spatula. Loki makes a protesting noise at once, but if he wanted to argue, he forgets about it as soon as Tony touches his cock again.
“MayIpleasecome?” he asks at once, almost too fast to understand. “Please, Sir? Sir?”
Tony chuckles. “I already gave you permission, remember?”
“Oh,” Loki says, breathless, eyes wide open, “oh, yes, yes.”
He needs three strokes, then he comes all over his stomach in thick spurts. Tony almost thinks he’s forgotten, but –
“Thank – thank you for making me come, Sir,” Loki says, wheezing, before he is even done coming. “Oh gods.”
Tony grins and strokes him through it, slowing down a little. He watches Loki shiver, toes curling in the air. “Good boy. That was perfect, love, well done.”
Loki lets out a winded sigh, eyelids fluttering. “Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome. Feeling good?”
Loki hums and nods. “Will you fuck me now?”
Tony pauses briefly. “You want that?”
“Sir,” Loki says with another sigh. His gaze finally focus on Tony properly. With a dry look, of course. “Stupid question.”
Tony smiles. “I’m not done with you just yet. Or are you tired already?”
“Why, are you?”
Laughing, Tony leans over Loki to kiss him. Loki melts into it, every sliver of tension having seeped out of his body. Tony shuffles a little closer on his knees, which leads to his crotch pressing down against Loki’s hips. Loki moans into the kiss and grinds up against Tony’s jeans.
Tony pulls back to kiss Loki’s jaw, and soon his tongue finds the heritage line there and slips into the ridge, making Loki moan. Tony wants to do that everywhere. And he realizes after a second that he can. Loki is tied up with nowhere to go, he can’t move, can’t touch Tony in return. He lets himself be helpless, and he loves it. Tony could only tease him for the next hour, not give him any relief, and Loki would submit. Oh, he would beg, and a little later he might curse and then beg some more, but he wouldn’t stop being putty in Tony’s hands. Tony could hurt him again. Push his fingers into his mouth, make him choke. Fuck his ass or cunt or both. Or just jerk off looking at him while Loki watches and whines, pulling at the rope, begging for Tony’s cock. Tony could do anything. Well, maybe not anything at all, but – that’s not the point, anyway.
The point is that it’s up to him.
And because of that Tony takes the next thirty minutes or so to kiss and lick all of Loki’s heritage lines he can reach, without paying much attention to Loki’s whimpers.
By the time he arrives between Loki’s legs, Loki is a puddle. Quite literally – the heritage line under his cock is slick and puffy, looking a little more like the cunts Tony is used to. He wants a taste, so he puts his hands on Loki’s inner thighs and dives right in, sliding his tongue over the slit.
Loki cries out and his knees jerk as if he’s trying to close them. Tony hums and pulls back slightly, but before he can ask if it’s too much, Loki starts to beg.
“Don’t stop, please – Sir, please, it’s good, it’s good. Please.”
Tony looks up and finds Loki staring at him, breathing heavily. Tony can imagine what he looks like, between Loki’s legs with his mouth just inches away from Loki’s cunt. He smiles and gives Loki another broad lick, watching the pleasure flicker in his eyes. The heritage line is so soft, and it opens up so easily for the tip of Tony’s tongue, letting him lick the inside. Loki’s legs tremble. It’s not the first time Tony has done this, but it still feels new. Loki tastes odd – not bad, just odd; unlike the women Tony has tasted. Less musky, almost sharp. If Tony told him that his pussy tasted like breath mints, Loki would waterboard him. Or maybe just blush real pretty. Hm. Tony should test that.
For now, though, he just pushes his tongue into the heritage line, licking up and down. The first time he sucks at the ridge, Loki keens. Tony does it again. He licks and sucks for a while, paying attention to Loki’s reactions. Whenever Tony teases the hidden hole with the tip of his tongue, Loki holds his breath and tenses up. Tony likes pulling a big moan out of him then by flicking his tongue against the inside of the heritage line until Loki can’t keep quiet anymore. He seems to like that a lot, so Tony keeps licking at the upper end of Loki’s slit and uses his thumb to pay attention to the rest. He slides it up and down and rubs the pad firmly against the inner side of the ridge until Loki’s legs start trembling.
Suddenly, there’s even more wetness in Tony’s mouth, sharp on his tongue. Loki lets out a drawn out groan, hips tense and bucking up against Tony’s face.
“Thank – thank you for making me come, Sir,” he presses out, still riding the waves if the way his cunt twitches under Tony’s mouth is any indication. “Thank you. Oh.”
Tony pulls back, giving the slit another firm lick. Loki shudders and finally takes a breath, gasping for air. His whole body is limp now, relaxing into the rope.
“Such a good boy,” Tony murmurs, and dives back in.
He licks Loki to another orgasm within a few minutes, and then to another, and Loki thanks him both times, breathless and sweet.
“Oh, look at that,” Tony says after pulling back a moment, entranced by the sight in front of him. He runs his fingers over Loki’s cunt and pulls apart the swollen lips to reveal the hole, dark purple and so tight. “You’re all puffy. And so wet.”
He reaches for the spatula again. When he pats Loki’s cunt with it, Loki holds his breath, and when Tony gives him a hard slap, Loki screams. Tony can positively watch Loki’s cunt gush even wetter.
“More?” Tony asks. “Look at me.”
Loki looks at him, eyes wet. He takes a breath, sniffing slightly. “That – was quite painful.”
“Can’t be that bad if you can still form full sentences. Can you take another?”
“Yes, Sir,” Loki says at once.
So Tony hits his cunt again, and again, harder at first and then softly, until Loki starts moaning again. His eyes glaze over, and Tony knows he’s gone, floating. Suddenly, after another hard slap, Loki all but howls, legs twitching hard, and his cunt – twitches, too. Tony can see it, the ridge pulsing. Loki slurs something Tony can’t understand.
“What was that?” he asks and drops the spatula to get his hands on Loki’s cunt. He parts the ridge again, feeling Loki’s wetness. Loki murmurs something again. Tony doesn’t bother grabbing the spatula; he smacks Loki’s inner thigh with his hand. “Speak clearly.”
Loki needs a moment, taking a few deep breaths. Then he says, “Thank you for making me come, Sir.”
His voice is still soft, words blurring into each other. But a lot better than before.
“Oh, really?” Tony asks, acting surprised even though he saw the orgasm happening. “Was that a full one?”
“Not sure,” Loki murmurs, mouth falling open in reaction to Tony’s thumb stroking over his cunt. “Not – all the way.”
“Poor thing. I didn’t mean to ruin it, but then again, I didn’t really expect you to come from me hitting your cunt.”
Loki whines, soft and quiet. Tony isn’t sure if his words really registered. Loki’s eyes are closed, mouth still open, and his hips move mindlessly, trying to grind against Tony’s hand. Tony pushes two fingers into him, then three; he’s so wet they all slide in easily. Loki makes a feral sound.
“Please,” he says, voice thick and wet. “Sir, please.”
“Quiet.”
Loki bites down on his lower lip. So desperate to obey. Tony can’t take it anymore, he uses his free hand to open his pants and touch his cock. Maybe he made a noise, because Loki’s eyes open and stare at him, pleading. Tony fucks him with his fingers, gently at first and then harder. He’s so warm and soft inside, walls gripping Tony’s fingers like a vice. Tony lets go of his own cock to touch Loki’s heritage lines again. All of them are open now; every brush against them must be agony in the best of ways. Tony follows the one on Loki’s belly with a fingertip. Loki shakes and clenches down on Tony’s fingers. His eyes are wide open and makes a lot of fast, breathy noises and Tony thinks, oh, it’s that good.
Grinning, he digs into every heritage line he can reach, letting Loki feel his nails where he is oh so sensitive. Loki gets an almost panicked look about him, but if it is panic, bliss swallows it up right away. His hips buck while he clenches down on Loki’s fingers. A heavy shudder goes through him.
He goes limp again after a few long seconds, eyes staring at nothing. He breathes heavily. Tony gently pushes his fingers in and out, because he’s definitely still not done, and Loki makes a soft noise.
“Sir,” he says quietly.
“That was a full one.”
Loki’s tongue flicks out to lick his lips. “Yes, Sir.”
“You come so easily for me, don’t you? Was it good?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Really? How nice. And you didn’t forget anything?”
Right away, Loki’s eyes go wide. He pulls at the rope a little. “Thank you for making me come, Sir.”
“Too late.” Tony pulls his fingers out of him. “You were supposed to thank me right when you were coming.”
Loki stares at him, and Tony doesn’t like that there is fear in his eyes. He has no idea if it’s the right kind. Tony wants respect and submission and, yes, sometimes fear, but for too many times they were actually scared of each other for various reasons. He doesn’t want it to be like that. Especially not now, when Loki isn’t even fully alert – he’s still at least half under, eyes glassy. Fragile. Tony doesn’t want to break him.
“I’m sorry,” Loki says, voice faint.
“Are you?” Tony asks. Loki opens his mouth, but Tony keeps talking right away. “Then apologize properly. And if you ask nicely, I’ll keep going. Because I really want to.”
Loki just looks at him for a moment. Tony looks back, expectant, and strokes Loki’s inner thighs. They’re sticky from Loki’s cunt, and Tony really wants to taste him again.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” Loki says, and it sounds sincere. His voice is wet. “I’ll be – good. I’m sorry.”
“You weren’t not good. You just forgot.”
“I won’t forget again.”
“I know you won’t. And?”
“Will you –” Loki takes a breath. “Will you make me come for you again, Sir? Please. I want – please.”
“You want more?”
“Please, Sir.”
Tony bends down again to kiss Loki’s inner thigh. Loki moans when Tony closes his lips over his cunt again, licking and sucking. For a moment Tony wishes that Loki’s hands were free and buried in his hair, but he knows he – unfortunately – wouldn’t enjoy that in practice. It’s a nice thought in theory, though.
He makes Loki come on his tongue again, and this time, Loki doesn’t forget. Tony makes sure to praise him for it quite a lot, before he leans back in. He doesn’t really try to make Loki come, this time – Loki is so sensitive by now that even the slightest touch has him trembling and gasping. Tony just licks him slowly, gently, giving him a bit of time to recover. When Loki’s moans sound less exhausted and more eager again, Tony bites down on the heritage line on Loki’s thigh and makes him come like that. Loki thanks him again, screams it really, voice hoarse.
Tony sits up. It’s enough, he thinks. Loki stares up at him, half-lidded and spent. His cock is soft. His belly is covered in dried come and his inner thighs aren’t in a much better state, god, he’s a mess. Tony should untie him and bring him to bed. Get some food and water into him, clean him up, watch him sleep.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” he says, because he just – he can’t not, not with Loki just lying there after having been so good for him, so good. Tony didn’t even plan any orgasms for himself in this, he just wanted to make Loki feel good, but now he just needs.
Loki jolts as if somebody shocked him. “Yes, Sir.”
Tony shuffles around on his knees until he’s in the right position and shoves his pants down so that they aren’t in the way. “Yes?”
“Please.”
Tony doesn’t wait. He lines himself up and slides right in, moaning in reaction to the feeling – Loki so warm and tight around him, exhausted but still wanting more, looking up at him like he adores him more than anything. Tony looks back and makes himself hold still for a second, swallowing hard. His hands stroke over Loki’s thighs, then his sides and chest, slow and gentle touches. He takes care not to irritate the lines too much, because every slight touch makes Loki twitch.
“You feel perfect,” Tony gasps, choked, and leans forward until he can kiss Loki, deep and slow.
Loki kisses back right away, mouth opening for Tony’s tongue. He whimpers when Tony pushes deeper into him, all the way, until Tony’s hips are pressed against Loki’s skin. Tony fucks him with hard strokes, but keeps them measured, controlled. Every thrust makes Loki keen. Tony can’t manage kissing him anymore, he can’t fucking focus, so he straightens a bit, his hand on the side of Loki’s neck as he rolls his hips.
“Look at me,” he orders – needlessly, because Loki is already looking at him, but Tony needs him to know that he wants this, just this, even though the intimacy of it is so much that it closes up Tony’s chest and throat like he’s going to cry. Hell, maybe he is going to cry.
Loki shudders, and shudders again, fingers flexing – and Tony knows Loki would reach for him if he could, touch him and pull him close. Tony likes that he can’t, it makes him thrust even harder into him, the knowledge that Loki can’t do anything except take him. Tony speeds up, his rhythm getting fractured, fucking Loki hard enough to make him cry out.
“Come for me,” Tony says, barely getting the words out. “Come on, love.”
Loki comes on command, and Tony is pretty sure he thanks him, too, but Tony can’t hear him over the rushing in his ears as he comes himself, pressing himself as deep into Loki as he can. He’s grabbing Loki’s thighs hard, a little above his inner knee; that will probably leave marks.
Tony grits his teeth when Loki’s cunt clenches down on him so hard it hurts – it makes his orgasm go on for another few seconds, somehow, until he’s dizzy, without any air left in his lungs. Loki’s body always does that when Tony fucks him like this, and Loki is embarrassed every time, even though he doesn’t even do it on purpose. Or maybe because of that.
Tony doesn’t mind. He’ll stay inside Loki as long as necessary; it’s not like it’s an inconvenience. He all but falls forward, resting his forehead against Loki’s, and breathes with him for a while.
“You with me?” he asks once he has his breathing back under control.
Loki nods weakly. He looks like he’ll fall asleep right here and now if Tony doesn’t keep him awake.
Tony kisses the corner of Loki’s mouth and then pulls out. Loki hisses softly. Tony unties him, taking his time with it, and makes sure to check all of Loki’s joints. Loki lets it happen, boneless, obeying all of Tony’s orders – sit up, drink this, let’s get you to the bathroom – without a care in the world.
When they are finally in their bed, Loki cuddles up to Tony right away, throwing one of his legs over Tony’s middle. He buries his face in Tony’s neck.
Tony smiles and strokes his back. “Alright?”
Loki nods, nose rubbing against Tony’s skin. He murmurs something that Tony only understands because he’s heard it so often by now.
“I love you, too,” he replies. “Now go to sleep.”
Loki goes easily enough. Tony stays awake for a while longer, but then he follows.
In the morning, he makes breakfast, and Loki complains about the tea Tony made and flushes when he sees all the marks Tony left on his body, and Tony sits in Loki’s lap while they eat just because he can, and nobody wants anything from them the entire day.
Tony could be happier, of course. Things could be easy – if he could, he’d turn everything that wasn’t easy right off, and forget about the things that make his skin crawl and the pills Thess made for him that he keeps on himself for very bad days. He’d forget about Loki’s anger and the cold cruelty that sneaks into his eyes when he’s pissed, and the way they both can’t sleep sometimes.
“It was worth it, you know,” he says later, on the chaise longue he had Loki on the night before. He’s leaning back against Loki’s chest, and Loki’s chin is on his shoulder. He’s dozing, Tony thinks, still tired from last night, but he heard what Tony said.
“What, exactly?” he asks, voice soft and warm.
Tony looks down at his book, thumbing at the pages. “Everything, really. This – it was worth it.”
Loki kisses his neck, but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.