Chapter Text
I guess he was expecting me.
The first thought that appears in Loki's head surely isn’t the most brilliant one he's ever had.
In his defence - he is really surprised by the current state of events.
One moment, he's standing at the desk of Stark Unlimited front office. The next one - he's catapulted forty-two floors up and firmly attached to the wall. He has no idea what the bindings are made of - but they are definitely effective.
It seems that Stark's “this entire building is a weapon designed to fight specifically you” wasn't just a drama-queen-style exaggeration.
The man in question is looking straight at him, clearly discontented with this visit. He's sitting just next to a huge cannon aimed directly at Loki and one of his hands is tapping at the holographic control panel. In the other one, he is holding a small, paper cup.
Anthony Stark in a nutshell. Tiny coffee. Big gun.
Loki snickers silently at the suggestive description offered by his mind. Heh, it might be true either way.
…On the other hand, you know what they say about making up for complexes. Interesting.
…And this oh-definitely-not-provocative way in which the guy is sitting right now, additionally encourages to check whether–
Oh, for ᚠᚢᚴᚴᛋ sake! Focus, Loki! You're not here to assess Stark's… hardware.
The billionaire sighs heavily and puts away the coffee cup. “Okay, Loki. Let's talk.”
“Need advice. King to king.”
Stark furrows his brow, huffs with exasperation and… begins to ramble.
No, he's not the king of Midgard... (Really? I mean - really?!)
…But taking into account that Loki helped save this realm more recently than he tried to destroy it, blah, blah, blah... (The guy loves to hear himself talk!)
…Anyway, he'll be so nice and give Loki a chance to explain himself before he fires up the damned thing.
Loki already knows that the inventor is bluffing - he won't be able to shoot him in cold blood. He also knows what he should say. Three easy words that will save the day and make Stark release him, maybe even listen to him: “Thor sent me”. Yes, this will do the job, he's sure of that.
However, when he opens his mouth–
“Oh, please! You simply want to kill me? How utterly and disgustingly boring. Not what I've expected from the creative Tony Stark.”
The billionaire raises his eyebrow, clearly surprised by this kind of statement.
Truth be told, Loki is quite baffled by it, as well. Yet, the momentum has already swept him down and he can't stop himself anymore.
Especially…” His voice drops down to a slightly more seductive level. “...Not after seeing this much more sex-dungeon-like part of your trap, which I'm currently enjoying. Now, that - is definitely more interesting.”
Uhhh! Seems like the “big gun” pun was too suggestive for Loki's own good and made his mind dive straight into the gutter without thinking twice. ᛋᚼᛁᛏ! But okay… it is what it is - let's roll with it.
The corners of Stark's mouth start twitching slightly and then the guy lets out a loud snicker. Right now, he looks authentically amused.
“Seriously, Loki?” He snorts and shakes his head. “If this was supposed to be a ‘distract the enemy by making him outraged or embarrassed’ strategy, then you definitely chose the worst possible Avenger for that.”
Loki squints his eyes slightly, trying to look as aloof and nonchalant as possible in his current situation. He has - honest to Norns - no faintest idea why he said what he said. (If anyone was wondering about the downsides of being the embodiment of chaos - well… that's a good example.) However, he'd rather kiss a bilgesnipe than admit to Stark that he doesn't know what he's doing.
“Maybe my strategy involves a totally opposite kind of distraction,” he bluffs without batting an eye. “And thus - I chose the best possible Avenger for that.”
“Oh, did you really?”
Stark tilts his head to the side and regards him with a slightly mocking, lop-sided smirk. He stands up, strolls to one of the desks and takes something from its work surface. When he moves a bit closer, Loki can see that the object is a kind of strange glove, which the inventor is currently putting on his hand.
“I'd be careful with choosing your strategy if I were you,” he remarks casually, fastening the clasps around his wrist. “I'm Tony Stark - I can play by any set of rules you offer me, princess.”
He taps on the glove, which lightens up and makes a brief humming noise, and moves his hand up, palm turned in Loki's direction.
Oh, great. Now, I've been upgraded to a shooting target for the new Iron Man suit. Achievement unlocked. Yay.
Loki winces slightly and tenses instinctively, preparing himself for a short-distance blast. It probably won't cause any permanent damage, but it will surely hurt like Helheim.
What he definitely doesn't expect is the holographic-looking copy of Stark's hand appearing right in front of him.
“So yeah, as I said - better think twice before you decide what kind of scenario you come up with, Loki.”
The hand moves swiftly towards him. It stops at the edge of the metal binding which loosely embraces his neck, and then it carefully places its fingers underneath.
Loki's brows go up while his suddenly baffled mind is desperately trying to figure out what in the name of Hel is going on. It's… strange. The semi-transparent, slightly flickering thing makes a totally ghost-like impression, but the touch is real. It almost feels like a human hand, apart from the temperature, which is unnaturally cool.
The fingers slide softly down his collarbone - a gentle yet surprisingly intense caress - and then carry on to his chest. They curl a bit and scratch lightly across the area, until they reach the nipple and begin rubbing against it in a teasing motion.
Loki shivers and gasps at the unexpected jolt of pleasure, traversing his body like a lightning. Norns! He certainly wasn't prepared for this kind of sensation. But… he can't really say that he's disappointed, quite the contrary. He doesn't even mind being an experimental target as long as this is the toy Stark wants to try out.
The fun ends quickly, though. The hand moves away and disappears, as the inventor switches off the glove. He looks at Loki with curiosity and amusement.
“So what now, princess? Still so sure about your strategy? I told you - I can play along any rules you create. But if you expect that this will help you free yourself - well, dream on.”
He grins smugly, but after a moment his smile changes to a bit more teasing one.
“Heh, it almost looked like you enjoyed it,” he says quietly, as if talking to himself.
His low tone of voice makes Loki feel something funny deep down in his abdomen. Yes… That was nice. And he really wouldn’t be opposed to–
No, no, no! You didn't come here to play sexy games with Stark. You came here to negotiate with him. To strike a bargain.
To become an Avenger.
However… The sad truth is that this “goal” is just a means to an end. And - unfortunately - Loki has already enough self-awareness to know that what he really needs is a bit more complex.
To get some more satisfaction in his disappointing existence? To finally feel good, if only for a while? To be able to forget that he's trapped in a damned nightmare, in which he got everything he’d ever dreamt of, only to realise that it's the exact opposite of the life he wants to live?
Oh. Actually…
…Maybe striking a bargain can wait a moment or two?
He takes a breath and flashes Stark a little, quite suggestive smile of his own.
“And what if I told you that I really enjoyed it?”
*
Tony is definitely getting too old for all this shit.
Plus, apparently he is a perfect specimen of a bad-luck type of guy.
Of all possible moments, it had to be this one single day when he finally had no appointments and no weird stuff going on. Just some peaceful time to work on his newest invention, for which the stockholders are waiting impatiently. And - guess what? - that's exactly the spot when his arch-enemy decides to invite himself right into Tony's home.
Perfect. Just perfect.
Okay, maybe not the “arch-enemy” anymore? Actually… it's hard to say; with Loki it's always kinda complicated.
Just like it is now.
Fuck! To be honest, what Tony really wanted to achieve was just to fight fire with fire. To give the trickster a taste of his own medicine. To show him that both of them can play this game. To watch with satisfaction, as Loki loses his confidence and is forced to admit that his scheme spectacularly backfired.
Now, it seems that the only thing that backfired here was Tony’s own plan. And boy - that was a nice explosion.
He can see Loki's eyes behind those slightly tinted glasses; they are fixed on him, following his moves. Tony tries not to stare into them too much, not to look at the trickster's face, so that he can pretend that he doesn't see all those small things that make his playboy heart beat faster.
Sexy darkness. Temptation. Desire. A bit of need and hunger.
Shit!
Those are some really pretty eyes… And some handsome facial features, as well... Not to mention the nicely shaped body and–
Ahhhh! Damn, damn, damn! Of course, Loki looks great - he's a freaking alien-slash-god kind of creature. Living forever and ever, always looking like you're in your twenties and all that jazz. Somehow, it never bothered Tony before.
Somehow… It does now.
And he's sure that it’s just one more elaborate ruse.
He clears his throat gently and looks back at Loki, doing all he can to maintain his composure and make the impression of not being affected by this foul play.
“Still trying to trick me, huh? That won't work, pal.”
“I know. I wouldn't waste my time on trying to deceive you.”
There's something different about these words and the way they sound. Tony can't really grasp it, but… as strange as it may be - he knows that the god is telling the truth this time.
Wait… so it means… that Loki is really interested in some fun and games just for the sake of them?
Okaaay… And what is Tony Stark interested in…?
Truth be told, the question is purely rhetorical. The only thing that might be stopping him right now is the “arch-enemy” stuff. (This and the fact that Thor is going to kill him with bare hands if he ever learns that Tony dared to touch his little brother.)
But… Ummm… Hasn’t Tony already mentioned that the “arch-enemy” problem is no longer current? And it's not like either of them is going to run to Thor and tell him about the things that might happen here. If anything happens, that is.
So, all in all…
“How much did you say you enjoyed it? Enough to beg me for more?”
Loki’s little, teasing smile gets wider; now there's much more of authentic delight in it.
“Tony Stark doesn't disappoint, indeed,” he drawls in a low, deep voice. “And the direction in which your wicked mind goes is… intriguing.”
No, no, no! You won't silvertongue yourself out of that, you smug bastard.
“Beep! Wrong answer, princess! Wanna try again? Or maybe it's too much for your pride and we go back to the point where you explain your reasons for visiting me?”
One of the god's brows moves slightly up, his expression becoming a bit more ironic. “Do you really think I'd be ashamed of begging in bed?”
Uh-huh. Nice try! Tony’s response is a self-content, Cheshire-cat-like grin.
“Well, you’re not exactly in bed, Loki.” He walks a bit closer to the god, absentmindedly playing with the glove on his hand. “Rather pinned to the wall like a pretty butterfly. Immobilised, exposed, totally at mercy of Iron Man.”
He chuckles softly and bites his lip, looking Loki's body up and down in a slow, lecherous way.
“Actually… I think that this is what turns you on the most right now, isn't it?”
Loki doesn't answer this one. He doesn't have to. The quiet but audible hitch of his breath and the small shudder that goes through his body tell Tony much more than any words would.
The trickster likes it. A lot. And he seems to be hungry for more. (Oh, Tony is already enjoying it too; but he definitely won't make it too easy.)
“So…? What is it going to be?”
The green tint of the glasses can't hide the glint of wicked joy and anticipation in Loki's eyes.
“I'm not at the level of desperate begging, Stark. But I’m sure I can ask you nicely enough.”
“I'll be the one to decide if it's ‘nice enough’,” Tony points out with a small laugh. “And I have a first name, you know."
“Of course you do, Tony,” the god purrs sensually. “I get the feeling that you're just as curious about this little game as I am. So, please, will you continue?”
It's not even about what Loki says. It's about how he says it. A mixture of playfulness, charm and desire coated in a dark, sexy voice and enticing melody of speech - dripping from each and every syllable he utters.
“Please, Tony…?”
Holy fuck!
Tony's reputation is not really exaggerated - has seen a lot and has heard a lot. Much more than you could imagine. Yet, the god's manner of speaking still manages to catch him off-guard.
He swallows hard, trying not to show how much these words affected him. It may be a difficult task; he can already feel that his jeans were a bit more comfortable a few moments ago.
Damn! Right now… he really wants to bring Loki to the level of desperate begging. As soon as possible.