Wooing The Trickster. Chapter 14.

[teofse]

 

Title: Wooing The Trickster.
Author: Teofse
Rating: G
Pairing: Loki/Tony
Genre: Slash. Romance.
Word Count: 8951
Warnings: None. Unbetaed.
Disclaimer: Don't own these characters. No money is being made out of this work.
Summary: “Get ready to be swept off your feet, Loki of Asgard, because my fucking heart has finally found its match, and I'm afraid it's you.”

Wooing The Trickster. Chapter 14.

Tony had always been the kind of dude who had a finger in about six pies at any given time and was never satisfied with how little entertainment he got out of all that stimuli. That meant that he'd always been an overactive pain in the ass who'd been battling boredom of universal proportions for as long as he could remember.

Focusing on one thing, and one thing only, had always sounded terribly dull to him. That's why the idea of long-term romantic commitment had never managed to entice him, since he'd never been able to understand how it was possible for anyone to end up being so dammed whipped that one single individual could become the be all and end all of one's life. Forever. And ever. And, well, pretty much EVER.

He used to think that love of the ever-after variety was for fairy tales and cute little toothless girls with piggy-tails and bows. Or Pepper. And maybe Happy. And Thor and his Jane, of course. And all those weirdos who liked to go around New York hand in hand like they had nothing better to do than smile goofily at each other and get in the way of absolutely everybody else, that everybody else being mainly Tony. Or his car. Or his limo. Yep, he'd always thought those fucking weirdos were the most annoying thing under the sun.

Now things were completely different. Loki different, if that made any sense, and Tony had embraced the giddy romance mojo, too. He'd become one of the starry-eyed lovey-dovey weirdos himself, and he found it immensely liberating. He'd told Pepper to hire an assistant and informed the bloody board that he'd retired. Sort of. For the foreseeable future.

He'd gone ahead and told an apoplectic Fury that he'd only answer Avenger-related calls when the situation turned so bloody black that no one could see the light, and not a second before that, from now on. He'd called a press conference and informed the entire world of the fact that Tony Stark was officially in love. With Loki of Asgard, no less. And then he told everyone who bothered to listen that he was going to 'live the dream', just because he could.

Loki had laughed himself silly watching everyone's reactions, but he'd kissed him softly after every single ordeal and thanked him for not 'keeping them a secret.'

Tony was happy with his lot. He was busy with his new life and he liked it more than he'd ever thought he'd like that sort of one-on-one commitment. He'd learned more about his Reindeer in the last week alone than he had in the two years previous and that had brought home a rather startling realization: he'd been always so busy with his meetings and his cars. With his parties, his Iron Man hero gig, and all his awesome inventions, that he'd probably dedicated about a 1.00085% of his overall focus to the business of falling in love. And once he'd realized that he'd managed to go gaga over the Smurf on such relative short supply of uber-alien sexiness, he had no other option but to accept the inescapable truth: now that Loki was finally in possession of 100% of his attention, he'd begun to truly 'see' the man/god/hard-to-explain-frost-giant-thing he'd fallen in love with in all his glory. And what a glorious sight he was indeed.

Tony had never before realized that Loki was a bit of a neat freak. That he absolutely despised being dirty in any way, shape or form, and that he comfort read whenever he fought with Thor, which was becoming more of a thing with every passing day.

He'd also had absolutely no idea that his sorcerer tended to dance barefooted on the balcony of the abandoned ballistic control office, down on the 16^th floor at WTF time at night when the pain in his cursed arm bothered him too much to fall asleep, so the first time he'd found Loki doing his thing down there he'd been absolutely transfixed by the beauty that was his long-legged Buttercup in motion.

“I didn't know you could dance like that, Reindeer.” He'd whispered breathlessly, startling his twirling prince mid-step and cutting short the rhythmic humming Loki had been swaying to.

The spirited dancing had come to a rather abrupt -and thoroughly unwelcome- stop and Loki's shoulders became rigid as he stood in the middle of the room, back so carefully turned towards him that Tony knew, just knew, that he'd never been meant to see his crush like this. As soon as that realization hit him his curious little brain began to wonder how many people out there even knew that Loki danced like the Prima Ballerina Assoluta to make all Prima Ballerinas Assolutas weep with jealous despair, and he didn't like the answer that came, unbidden, to his mind. 'No one. There's not a single fucking soul in the Nine Realms who has ever seen him like this. I'd bet my entire car collection on that hunch and I'd end up keeping every single one of my machines.'

Loki was all ablush and pale-faced when he finally gathered enough gumption to turn towards him, bashful gaze skittering away with the kind of uncharacteristic vacillation that Tony was sure he'd have gone to great lengths to mask if he'd been interrupted by anybody else. 'But I'm the one who found him, and he chose me. He's trying his dammed best not to hide any part of himself from me, no matter how much he may want to do so.'

“I was not. Dancing, that is. I swear to you that this is not what it looks like, Anthony. I was just... moving to the rhythm of my thoughts. I realize it sounds strange but I... I do not—You will not be dishonored by a partner who regularly embraces the feminine arts. Practicing Seidr so openly is bad enough, but that is all I'll ever do.”

“I take it Seidr is the name you guys give to your magic mojo, then?” Tony decided to intervene before Loki went ahead and dug himself a grave that didn't need any digging. He could see the Smurf's growing panic surging like a tidal wave across the emerald depths of those beautiful eyes and didn't much care for the Asgardian-jerk induced self-hatred it betrayed.

“Yes. Seidr is the sorcery of my people. It's the knowledge and manipulation of both mystic healing and divination. It's also an asgardian woman's gift and birthright.” Loki whispered quietly, voice so low with crystal clear shame over his own affinity for a female's talent that Tony had to bite his lower lip as hard as fuck to keep the frustrated growl that was clawing up the back of his throat from making it out into the open.

“But you're neither a woman nor an Asgardian, so who's to say the kind of Seidr you practice is not your fucking birthright, too? I can't help but notice you don't do much mystic healing, and divination seems to give you the giggles every time you try looking into those glass bowls of yours.”

“Anthony...”

“Your magic is bloody kick-ass, Peaches. 100% warrior macho stuff of the wispy green variety. I haven't seen a single asgardian babe go all Merlin-in-a-huff on the battlefield so far. I actually haven't seen a single asgardian babe on the battlefield, full stop. And don't you dare go on and on about that Sif chick's 'amazing prowess with a broadsword', because that one is more man than chick, anyway. ”

Loki's attempt at nonchalant laughter fell so short off the mark that Tony's throat closed tightly and he had to literally dig his white-knuckled fingertips into the doorway's metal frame to keep himself in place as he watched Loki's arm twitch uncertainly upwards, the motion so devoid of that undefinable 100% sexy Reindeer elegant gracefulness that it managed to break Tony's pounding heart long before the awful words his Cupcake whispered reached his ears:
“If you believe the Lady Sif more male than female for her desire to fight alongside the best warriors of Asgard, instead of languishing in my mother's gardens and submitting herself to Freia's Seidr lessons, then how can you see me as anything other than a Lady who bears a rather unfortunate number of masculine body parts, Anthony? I enjoy reading and writing. I learned philosophy and the language arts before I even lifted my first bow. I attended Freia's tiresome lessons until the day finally came when her knowledge could no longer further mine. I do not enjoy the hunt. Or drawing blood in the battlefield. I've never laid with a woman in my entire life. I am 'artsy' and a warlock. I'm argr and, I... I dance.”

Tony could smell one of those nasty Asgardian hang-ups rearing it's ugly head and, although he was certain that someone better prepared to deal with a fucked up bastard's emotional mine fields would have grabbed the extra bucket of patience he seemed to have lost somewhere between Loki's first denial of having been caught dancing and this gut-wrenchingly pained admission to having committed the deed, he decided that pretty words of gentle 'understanding' weren't the way to deal with his Bluebell's gender identification issues.

He pushed away from the doorway and approached his wary beloved with as much calm confidence as he could possibly portray when his mind was busy discarding the probably useful idea of pointing out that Captain America himself was an 'artsy' sort of dude. That Bruce Banner liked to read bloody poetry in the helicarrier to 'keep his mind off things' whenever he was being flown into battle. And that Hawk-eye spoke five languages fluently enough to fool the locals. None of those things were enough to make anyone here, on Earth, even think of accusing their fellow Avengers of being 'girly' just because they liked to draw stuff, or read old, flowery words, or were actually clever enough to learn to speak another language when most folks struggled daily to make themselves understood in their mother tongue.

For all that Loki was a man of words, his heart seemed to need actions when it came to things like feelings, and Tony had no intention of beating around the same dammed bush for another two years of their limited time, just to make sure he'd got laid, so he took a deep breath and decided to confess exactly what his ever-hopeful dick had been thinking since the moment he'd set eyes on his very own version of Swan Lake's lovely Odette, twirling around like the sexiest, hottest wet dream he'd ever had:
“Looks like I'm argr, too, Peaches, because I absolutely dig this lone Prima Ballerina thing you've got going. I actually dig pretty much everything you care to put out there, no matter what it is, and I'm not ashamed of that in the slightest. You. Make. Me. Hard, Lokes. You make me wish I was female myself, or magical and eternal and whatever the fuck else you need your life-partner to be. You make me want to run down the street and start dancing all over the place like a punk on drugs, just to show you that I can and will do it, too. I'd dance all night long, if I have to. And I'd do it with pleasure, gladly even, if I knew it'd make you smile.”

“Anthony...”

“I often dance when I'm drunk, anyway. Or hot and bothered. Or feel like blowing off steam in some dark bar. None of that makes me feel any less manly, Sweet-pea. And I couldn't see you as a lady who bears an unfortunate number of masculine body parts, even if I tried, because I fucking love your masculine body parts, so there!”

Loki's beautiful lips parted in a gasp of utter shock and his already high color rose like a clinging vine up his lovely cheeks, conquering every inch of that gloriously pale skin until it reached the roots of his dark hair and the very tips of his delicate ears. Emerald green eyes skittered away once again, but not before Tony noticed how widened they'd become, how very vulnerable they made their shy ancient owner look with so little effort.
“Would you dare then to let me... No. I can not possibly ask such a thing of you yet. It's way too soon for...”

Tony made a grab for the nearest flailing hand, bringing his Smurf's distressed stream of words to a rather abrupt halt and planted the thumb of his other hand directly under that pointy jaw, forcing self-conscious green eyes to focus squarely on him.
“You can ask anything you want of me, Loki. I... There's probably no treasure out there I wouldn't lay at your feet, if you cared to demand it.”

“Do not toy with my needs, Anthony. Do not promise me boons you can't deliver, for I have no wish to jeopardize the trust I've placed upon you.”

“I'm just saying you can ask. I'll only be able to deliver the stuff that's within my power to procure. Those are all yours for the taking, anyway. Or they will be, as soon as I find out you want them.”

Loki pulled his free hand upwards, burying trembling fingertips in Tony's unbrushed hair in a gesture that portrayed such desperate need to touch, to wrap himself around Tony and never, ever, let go that the engineer stepped instinctively closer, trying to tell him without words that he could hold onto as much of him as he wanted, for as long as he needed to do so. 'All of me, gorgeous. You can have each and every part of me you care to keep.'

“I have fallen on my knees for many men, yet I tremble at the thought of offering such a thing to you, Anthony. I'm neither courtesan nor tavern wench, and I have no wish to sully whatever good opinion you have of my character, but I— I have needs. You once told me that we aren't going so slowly for your benefit, but mine. You said you'd welcome any advance I cared to make. That all I had to do was barge in...”

Tony's entire frame flamed from head to foot with overwhelming desire. He felt as if some mighty giant had just picked him up and dunked him straight in the middle of an erupting volcano, leaving him there to roast alive from the inside out.
“Oh. My. God! You, you want—You. Want. That's... I'm so honored, Loki.”

Green eyes looked right at him with limpid, honest desire.
“Does that meant you'll consent to letting me pleasure you? I may not be skilled enough in the arts of the wicked to seduce you with a look or a softly whispered word, but I've learned to use my mouth well enough to make you see stars. I promise you won't regret allowing me to take such liberties with your person.”

Tony would have self-combusted on the spot and seen all those dammed stars already from nothing but his god's lust-roughened tone alone. He'd have let wild hordes of blood-thirsty nutters conquer his beloved planet without a second thought for the pleasure of having that mouth on him too, if it wasn't for the teensy-weensy detail that he'd imagined their first pretty much everything about a million times already in glorious technicolor, and not a single one of them went this way. No, Sirree! He'd decided weeks ago that he'd be the one on his knees when the time finally came for them to do the deed. Loki had been the one worshiping motherfuckers for as long as he'd had sex, and it was high time somebody showed him how it felt to be Adored with a capital A and a cherry on the top, just because.

“I'm not planning to regret it, Scheherazade, but it'd please me a hell of a lot more to be the one on my knees. I'm quite proud of my oral skills, you see, and I want to be able to boast that I made a god see stars, planets and entire dusty old galaxies as soon as humanly possible.”

“You wish to... kneel... for me?” Loki whispered haltingly, looking so thoroughly thunderstruck by Tony's carefully voiced offer that the engineer swore to himself right there and then to worship him to within an inch of his life. 'I'm gonna rock your world, Peaches, and then I'm gonna keep rocking it until the end of time.'

“Yeah. I wanna go down on you. Want you to push that lovely cock of yours so far down my throat that I have no other option but to choke on it and take it. I want you to fuck my face hard enough to give me whiplash, babe. Oh God... I want to eat you alive, Loki.”

The most delicate shade of pink bloomed across the Reindeer's cheekbones as those eyes, so green, so hungry, stared right at him with flustered intensity. Tony knew he had shocked the Smurf speechless and he couldn't think of a single advantage to be had in letting him regain any semblance of composure before he'd managed to plant himself right between those maddeningly long legs and was holding onto the Smurf's holy dick like a tenacious barnacle.

He wanted inside Loki's pants with enough eagerness to send his conscience packing long enough to step forwards and crowd his reeling beloved against the nearest wall before planting a single toe-curling kiss on his mouth. He was hoping the move would make the Reindeer nice and pliable for the pleasure that awaited him, reducing the possibility of giving him enough time to even think of having cold feet, thus depriving them both of what promised to be a seriously glorious encounter of the third base variety.

Loki yielded to the kiss instinctively, melting against him like a warm blanket of fudge and Tony used the distraction to come even closer, plastering himself all over his god's front in a way that brought their painfully hard erections into perfect alignment and frightened the Bluebell into jerking his head upwards, breaking their perfectly good smooch into the bargain.
“I... maybe we should stop and think about this properly.” He panted in agitation, trying his best -and failing epically- to push Tony off his sexy and lanky body. “You can't possibly understand how very dangerous it is for you to tease me so, Anthony. I haven't been touched in so long that I—I may not be strong enough to hold myself back if you so much as grant me the smallest leeway to feast upon you.”

Tony's lungs lost every last bit of air they had been holding and his boner grew so hard he'd probably had been able to use it to battle Thor's own hammer, if the poor bastard had decided to interrupt them at that point in some sort of ludicrous attempt to get between his little brother's pants and Tony's greedy prick.
“Who says I'm teasing you, pumpkin? Go right ahead and feast all you like. Oh, fuck. Yeah... nibble me daintily with those pearly whites of yours, why don't you, Peaches? Suck purple bruises all over me and tug on my hair like a wild thing while I choke on your cock over and over and over again. Ah, hell... I swear on poor J.A.R.V.I.S' not-so-innocent cyber cherry that I'm gonna cum, untouched, in my pants, just thinking about it, babe. That's how fucking much I want you.”

Loki's laughter was a lot more breathy now and a whole heap less strained. His eyes had begun to darken from shimmering emerald to a mesmerizing sort of bruised teal that made him look almost feral. This wasn't Loki, the Trickster. Oh, no. This was Loki, the god of fire, and he appeared to be burning from the inside out with pure lust. And need. And a longing to be held that was thick enough to make Tony honestly think he could touch it, if only he gathered enough gumption to lift his itching-for-a-grab fingertips and pawed his glorious prince like the deranged beast he was a hair's breadth away from becoming.

“Do not party thus without me, mortal. For I won't easily forgive that kind of rudeness.”

“Then have me, dammit! You're driving me crazy, Lokes.”

“Some say patience is a virtue, my lovely Anthony.” Loki purred, white teeth flashing behind his wicked grin even as Tony threw himself at him again, desperate for some sort of 'proper' body contact.

“Patience can go fuck herself somewhere very far away, Smurf. Come on, touch me, gorgeous, rake those pretty nails of yours all over me.” Tony begged him shamelessly and all but swallowed his own tongue in blissed out reaction to their much anticipated skin-on-skin contact when his Alien Wizard finally deigned to bend that long neck of his low enough to rub the cold tip of his nose along the line of Tony's jaw, following the small, cool touch with playful little nips here and there that were slowly, but certainly, killing him with lust.
“Kiss me. Oh, Gosh... Kiss me properly, for fuck's sake, you, teasing little bastard!”

The cruel son of a bitch he loved so dammed much chuckled against the hollow of his throat, licking a broad, wet, stripe of groan-inducing fire up the front of Tony's neck before sucking greedily on the very tip of his goatee-covered jaw, making him weak at the knees long before that devastatingly playful mouth bothered to give him the bone-meltingly ravenous snog Tony had been begging for.

'God. Oh. God. Oh. My. Fucking. Jesus. Christ. Wearing. A. Freaking. Pink. Tutu. While. Jumping. On. A. Pogo Stick.' Tony thought incoherently as his lips were passionately bitten and his tongue all but conquered in the most forceful way anyone had ever dared to claim it. He wasn't in the least bit embarrassed to be moaning like a bitch in heat as he dangled from the neck of the only creature in the universe who had ever managed to make his amazing brain liquefy into a giant puddle of goo.

Anthony Edward Stark, modern day slut extraordinaire and more than seasoned Casanova in his own right, had literally no other option but to giggle like a slightly hysterical ingenue when he felt himself all but swoon in Loki's arms as soon as the Bluebell managed to let go off his tingling lips.
“I'm gonna kill every lucky bastard you've ever kissed like that, Peaches.” He mumbled under his breath, drunk on lust, blossoming jealousy and the kind of possessiveness he'd have never in a million years imagined he would manage to develop over any living thing.

“I have never kissed anyone like that, Anthony. And now I never shall. However many kisses the Norns have decided to bless my future with, they are all yours and yours alone.”

Tony groaned once again, lifting himself on tip toes to peck Loki hungrily on the mouth. And the cheek. And the jaw. Wanting to eat him alive, know how all that pale skin tasted and fill his twitching nostrils with the musky scent of increasingly aroused god about to let himself be thoroughly debauched.
“I want out of here, babe. I want you on your back, on my bed. As naked as the day you were born. I'm not gonna have you standing up against the wall, like you're a nameless pull from a pub. You won't walk out of this one without baring a hell of a lot more than your cock to my sight.”

“Anthony...”

“You are gonna get the Tony Stark Loki Special, Reindeer. A set of moves designed just for you. So come on, do that wispy thing of yours and magic us into my bedroom. Try aiming for the mattress if you can manage it, please. I'm not really in the mood to walk all the way up there right now, and I can think of a million better things to do with the time and energy I'd waste on something you can so easily take care of for me, Bluebell.”

Tony had sort of guessed that his request would turn his magic-proud beloved into gooey putty, but he hadn't anticipated the sheer gratitude that would flash across those expressive green eyes or the beauty of the smile that illuminated the Smurf's already breathtaking enough features when he gathered him in his arms like the most precious of treasures and murmured softly in his ear:
“Magic. You will allow me to unleash magic upon you... Your wish is my command, my wondrous mortal.”

One second he was drooling over the brightening of Loki's gorgeous face and the next Tony was blinking owlishly into thick, unfathomable, darkness. They landed atop his bed a second later, falling with the softest 'plop' onto his emperor size mattress and getting immediately tangled in the rumpled heap of bed sheets that he hadn't bothered to straighten after napping for five hours straight that afternoon.

Loki harrumphed under his breath when his bony ankle got caught in a specially loving knot of gray linen, and Tony was forced to let go of the pale bit of neck he was attempting to go full Dracula on to whisper the only mortified apology he'd ever given to a lover:
“Sorry. Sorry, Peaches. I know the bed's a dammed mess, but it's all mine and you look like a million bucks spreadeagled over it.”

“Flattery will get you pretty much everywhere with me, Anthony.” The Reindeer breathed, forgetting all about the sheet curled like a vine around his ankle in order to offer him a bona fide sizzling, come-hither flutter of sooty black lashes that didn't quite manage to mask the utmost seriousness of his statement. Tony's hands got busy cradling that breathtakingly beautiful face and he looked into vulnerable emerald eyes until he felt himself being pulled so very deep inside them that he feared he'd never come out of there alive.

“That's absofuckinglutely awesome, Buttercup, because I wanna go everywhere with you, sweetheart. And we are gonna start by flying all the way to heaven without ever leaving this bed. That OK with you, sexy thing?”

“Yes. Of course that is OK with me.” Loki answered him so earnestly, so solemnly, that the lighthearted instant Tony had been aiming for turned heavy with emotion. Dragging them both into full awareness of the fact that here they were: together in bed for the very first time, about to walk down a path neither of them had ever traveled quite so seriously before. Love... they were going to make love, no matter what they actually got up to. The idea was both frightening and exhilarating. It was huge, too. Probably the hugest thing Tony had ever contemplated. Or done. Or even dared to feel. He was going to adore Loki to within an inch of his life, that was the only thing he was truly certain of.

Work-callused thumbs liberally splattered with old grease -and smelling faintly of engine oil- rubbed ever so delicately against utterly soft, aristocratic cheekbones as their owner watched Loki submit easily to the touch, darkening green eyes full of need and mounting desire, wary caution almost completely thrown aside in favor of visible trust.

“I love you.” Tony told him and those were the easiest and most difficult words he'd ever said. He'd said them before to this man, growled them right in his face even, but he'd never meant them like he meant them at that moment. He'd never before felt his heart go out of his chest altogether with every whispered syllable, and he knew Loki could sense the utter seriousness of his statement.

“I love you, too.” Loki mumbled in response, eyes ablaze with a terrified sort of fear and the kind of courage born of that trembling sort of stubborn defiance that Tony was beginning to associate with Loki's greatest moments. The unexpected words hit him like a powerful punch. Left him breathless and exposed. Touched him right down to the bone. His eyes closed and his Adam's apple moved up and down wildly as he tried -and failed- to express how much hearing his god say such a thing had actually meant to him.

Loki trembled beneath him, green eyes wide and looking oh-so-very-fragile as he waited for Tony's reaction. They both knew that he'd never said anything like this to anyone at all before. Not even to Tony himself. Oh, no. He'd said plenty enough about 'choosing' him and 'sacrificing' things for his sake, but had never labeled his feelings in any shape or form. He'd managed to imply the depth of his emotions through actions without ever saying the words. Not even by mistake. And, now that he'd dared to utter them, Tony could finally acknowledge how much he'd needed to hear them.

“Come here, you, ballsy bastard...” He finally managed, all raw tone, red-rimmed eyes and a kind of ferocious need to cradle his messed-up Asgardian so close to his own heart that Loki would have no other choice but to listen to the dammed thing pound in his chest just for him.

Loki sighed and the sound carried both deep relief and willing compliance. His long frame curled easily into Tony's arms, pale forehead landing in the crock of his right shoulder as he sneaked both hands under the Smurf's narrow back, lifting him slightly off the mattress in order to plant a reverent trail of small, open mouthed kisses all over the crown of his head, the curve of his cheek, the line of his jaw and the straining cord of that long, swan-like neck.

Loki moaned timidly and pressed himself closer. Dark head falling back in order to offer Tony as much exposed skin as humanly possible. The engineer hummed in approval and descended like a ravenous wolf upon the pulse thundering like crazy on the side of that long neck, kissing the fluttering flesh greedily while his hands kneaded the Reindeer's shaking shoulders before trailing down those spindly arms until a slight flinch of discomfort reminded him in no uncertain terms of the unwelcome fact that his love was under a painful curse, no matter how manfully he bore it.
“Sorry. I'm so sorry, babe.” He choked out, lifting contrite amber eyes towards clearly pain-filled green ones.

“It's alright. I forgot the burn was there, too. I... please don't let it put you off having me, Anthony. I can disguise the limb with magic if the sight of it is abhorrent to you.”

Tony's calloused palm rubbed up and down the affected arm, careful not to touch the wounded skin too roughly, but stubbornly refusing to ignore its existence altogether.
“Nah. This is a part of you, my fierce warrior. There's no way I want it hidden like some sort of awful defect. I may not like how much it hurts you, but I'm dammed proud of the balls it took to get it, Buttercup.”

The overwhelmed gratitude that flashed across Loki's gaze at that moment stole Tony's breath away and he kissed the Smurf's wounded skin reverently, lips as soft as butterfly wings, even though the desire behind his caress should have been strong enough to set the bloody South Pole on fire. He kissed and kissed that trembling arm upwards, never stopping doing so until his lips found the unwelcome barrier of a soft, if ratty, t-shirt.

The Reindeer's breath hitched in protest as soon as he started easing back, bringing a tender smile to Tony's lips and he couldn't resist pecking that flustered face once again before whispering reassuringly:
“Easy there, babe, I'm not going anywhere. We just need to get rid of these clothes of yours. They're cramping my style, you know?”

Loki laughed with the sort of bell like giggle that never failed to turn Tony's knees to useless jelly and lifted a careful hand to play shyly with the very tips of the billionaire's messy bangs.
“I could solve that pesky problem with a single snap of my fingers. Would you like me to do that, beloved?”

Tony's tongue tied itself into clumsy knots at the unexpected nickname, but he managed to smile so very brightly indeed that not even his paranoid Buttercup could possibly misconstrue his lack of words for any sort of reluctance to being so boldly claimed.
“Nah. I want to peel this stuff off you all by myself. I wanna unwrap you like the best present I've ever received, Cupcake.” He mumbled, bringing trembling hands forwards to tug the hem of his god's t-shirt upwards and off in a single, clumsy, yank.

Loki's long, sculpted chest came into view and Tony's eyes feasted upon it with such attention to detail that the Blueberry started to squirm under him, clearly uncomfortable with his awestruck staring.
“I can't believe you're letting me have all of this, babe.” He muttered under his breath, running the very tips of his callused fingers down the center of Loki's heaving chest. A trail of aroused goosebumps followed his touch like a faithful shadow, and his toes literally curled when he heard the startled little moan that escaped his Muffin's parted lips when he brushed a rose-colored nipple with the pad of his thumb.

That small sound awoke something utterly fierce and ravenously hungry inside of Tony. Something that desperately craved more of those breathless little moans. More of Loki's beautiful surrender. His lips fell over the god's defenseless nipples with the kind of voracity that would have terrified half the giggling bimbos he'd once bedded, but Loki only groaned louder and jerked slightly off the bed, pressing one gloriously sensitive man-tit after the other into his greedy mouth and thrashing with wild abandon after every single pass of the flat of Tony's tongue against the hardening, pebble-like tips.

Tony suckled the Reindeer's right teat noisily, dribbling saliva everywhere before biting it playfully, making Loki first gasp in absolute shock and then shudder from head to toes, clearly overwhelmed by the pleasure-pain sensation that was coursing right through him. Tony shushed him, licking the slightly reddening skin soothingly before moving down to adore one protruding set of ribs and then the other.

“Oh.” Loki choked out between one slow blink of clearly dazzled green eyes and the next, making Tony smile predatorily against the flesh he'd been sucking purple bruises into and attack it all the harder, raking his short nails all over a slightly fluttering belly before following the barely-there happy trail of dark soft curls that surrounded the most sensitive bellybutton he'd ever tongue-fucked all the way down to the edge of his Cupcake's deliciously tented pants.

“Tell me I can go on, gorgeous.” He pleaded when he'd kissed every single inch of skin already on display and couldn't bear to delay his growing desire to move downwards a single second longer. His own dick was so hard already that his jeans had become the worst sort of torture chamber, and he used the small instant that passed between Loki's initial lust-glazed blink of confusion and his head's timid motion of assent to pull off his own t-shirt, flick open his trouser's button and pull down the zipper on his fly, bringing himself much needed relief and wrenching another thoroughly aroused groan out of Loki's lovely throat.

“Take them off completely, Anthony. I want to see you bare.”

Tony grinned like the fucking Cheshire Cat even as he took hold of the hand trying to yank his jeans lower and tangled their fingers together, squeezing them ever so gently until his Peaches stopped fumbling with his pants and looked curiously up at him.
“Let them be, please. I don't want us to go all the way tonight, Buttercup. And I doubt I could stop myself from trying it, if I let this prick of mine out of its cage.”

Loki's already flushed face blushed even harder. He licked his lips rather greedily before swallowing with aroused agitation, pale throat working past its own dryness before breaking into rough-toned pleading:
“You can go all the way. I'm no virgin needing to be coddled or coaxed into giving you more than this. I swear I can take you without trouble, Anthony.”

Tony kissed the very tip of the Reindeer's nose as tenderly as he could manage, both because he couldn't help himself, and because he knew it would soothe whatever feeling of rejection his answer may be about to wake within Loki.
“I don't want to fuck you first, Peaches. I want you to fuck me instead, and I can't take you without proper preparation. I'm not talking about a good fingering, you know? I'm talking full on cleansing and the like, so that's out of the question for tonight.”

Loki twitched under him, green eyes growing ever wider and more vulnerable by the second as a thoroughly disbelieving light began to flash across them.
“You—you'd allow me inside of you? But that's...”

“Yep. I want you, all of you, playing pound-the-prostate inside me. That's exactly what I want, precious, but we'll talk about that tomorrow. Right now I'm as hard as stone and my throat is positively gagging for the best dicking you can give it.”

“Don't be so lewd.” Loki laughed, temporarily distracted by Tony's shameless redirection and the mortal didn't dare to lose another second before wedging himself more firmly between those incredibly long legs and grabbing hold of the waistline of Loki's pants before looking back up expectantly.

“I can't help it, Bluebell. I'm impatient by nature and I've been wanting inside these for a long time. Let me peel them off you, please. I can't wait to get my mouth on you.”

Loki's hips rose in response, bright green eyes softening with the kind of trust Tony was pretty sure only he had ever been gifted with in this sort of situation.
“Go right ahead then. I can't wait to have your mouth on me, either.”

Tony couldn't help the giggle that escaped him then and he planted a small peck on the bony ridge of his god's hip just a second before he finally dragged Loki's pants down his long legs and off.
"You’re so gorgeous." He whispered reverently, staring hungrily at the mouthwateringly lovely flesh he'd just uncovered.

"No. I'm not." Loki countered, making him snort loudly and shake his head in disagreement.

"Yes, you are. You are the most gorgeous dude I've ever met. Gosh! Even your cock is gorgeous. That's plain rude of you, you know? It's not fair that mine looks like a deformed, brownish, wiener while yours should be bloody enshrined for being a freaking monument to masculine perfection."

"You're crazy." Loki laughed, relaxing so completely against the mattress that Tony thought he'd have taken far worse insults just to see him this comfortable with having someone breathing on the very tip of his dick.

"True, but you like my kind of crazy, don't you, Buttercup?" He replied, muzzling that squirming crotch with utter gentleness. Loki startled, nervous once again all of a sudden, but he tried valiantly to relax, clearly attempting to convince his fucked-up mind to stop trying to destroy their precious first time.

“That's it, sweetheart. That's it. I'm dying to do this for you. I'm honestly, literally gagging for it, I swear, so you just sink into the mattress and let me get up close and personal with this totem of perfection.” Tony reassured him quietly, running the tip of his nose along the delicate patch of skin that stretched between Loki's slender hip and the musky mess of dark curls that grew in the middle of his groin.

The Smurf gasped ever so shakily before going completely still under him and Tony pressed his face downwards, burying his nose in the most glorious masculine scent he'd ever sniffed while his hungry lips brushed softly against the base of his god's engorged cock:
“You smell utterly divine, Buttercup. I could sniffle you here forever.”

“Norns, you're so strange... It confuses and bedazzles me almost as much as it frightens me.” Loki confessed breathlessly, running hesitant fingertips through Tony's tangled hair.

“There's nothing to fear here, beautiful. It's just me and my greedy mouth. And you. And your cock. And... this.” Tony said, taking the head of the aforementioned cock between his lips and swirling his tongue around it. Loki hissed in reaction, arching his slender hips minutely upwards before forcing himself to stop and Tony growled, suddenly pissed off with such unnecessary show of restraint, with his lover's undeniable lack of confidence in how bloody welcome he was to fuck his face until his dick fell off with the effort of shoving it down his throat. He smoothed his hands over the Reindeer's hipbones, grabbing them hard enough to bruise and forced the skittish bastard upwards, ramming that glorious rod down his own gullet with enough glee to kill Loki's insecurities once and for all.

“Anth... Anthony, what...?” Loki tried valiantly to scoot backwards. To ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. To control the furious pumping Tony's grabby paws were forcing his hips into, but he failed at each and every one of those tasks because the engineer had absolutely no intention of letting the little idiot worry himself out of the pleasure he was determined to give him.

'Come on, come on, stop fighting me and fuck my face like you mean it.' Tony thought as loudly as he could, hunkering down as low as possible and relaxing his throat muscles enough to take all of Loki's weeping cock in a single greedy gulp, loving the soft, velvety weight of that hard and heavy prick as it slid across his tongue to hit the back of his throat in the same maddening rhythm Loki's hips had finally settled into.

'That's it. That's it, gorgeous. Let go. Let go. Let go!' He chanted inside his head, holding on for dear life and breathing in heavily through his nose, filling his twitching nostrils with the heady smell of his Reindeer' arousal while the delicious taste of the pre-come that had started to dribble onto his tongue kept the blood boiling in his veins and his dick weeping for release inside the increasingly wet prison of his terribly tight pants.

Loki had begun to tremble, thighs and hips and baby-soft buttocks fluttering back and forth so minutely that at first Tony missed the slight shaking altogether. He smoothed his palms over his Blueberry's hip bones, calloused thumbs tracing small gentle circles into goose-pimpled pale skin while his own sanity unraveled: 'Yeah, shake for me just like this. Exactly like this. Let me take you apart and put you back together, baby. Let me show you how bloody good sex can be.'

Loki moaned louder than ever when Tony added just a touch of teeth to his vigorous sucking, worshiping the cock growing heavier and heavier in his mouth with everything he had. He pressed his tongue to every ridge and engorged vein he could feel as he slowly forced himself to relinquish his throat's greedy hold on that glorious manhood, allowing it to glide back towards his swollen lips in order to swirl the very tip of his tongue across the weeping head and push a drop or two of his god's bitter pre-come back into his spurting slit, creating a small wet sound that elicited another raw-toned gasp from his reticent beloved.

'More. I want to hear more of those beautiful sounds. I want to make you scream my name, Peaches.' He thought, taking him in deep once again and moving his right hand down and inwards, never stopping until he felt the slight fuzz of the Blueberry's heavy bollocks tickle his cupping palm.

“Ah, An... Anthony!” Loki muttered inanely, green eyes widened to capacity as he lifted his dark head off the pillow and stared dazedly down, watching Tony watch him in return as he swallowed him whole, and blushing absolutely crimson in reaction to the smug look so clearly burning in the mortal's light brown gaze.

Tony's free hand wandered upwards, caressing both toned belly and slightly protruding ribs as he allowed Loki's dick to pop out of his mouth for just a second, nosing it delicately aside before trying to wedge his head between the sorcerer's thighs, eager to lick his Reindeer's furry balls into submission.

His crush's mile-long legs spread easily enough, parting to accommodate his every whim without any vacillation whatsoever, only to start trembling in earnest a second later, when their owner's breathing became ragged to the point of gasping pants. An increasing number of satisfyingly tortured groans started making it past Loki's kiss-swollen lips as Tony swirled the flat of his tongue all over those dark-haired, fuzzy balls and the delicate skin that surrounded them before taking first one, and then the other, into the wet cavern of his mouth, suckling on them like a babe.

“Oh!” Loki whispered, becoming more and more undone by the second, and the sound was so very guileless, so full of wonder, that it didn't take a genius of Tony's caliber to realize that his love had never felt pleasure like this.

Tony kissed the inside of Loki's thigh reverently, running greedy paws down and around them until he had his palms firmly planted on his Buttercup's bare buttocks. He began to knead those perfect pale globes in time with the thrusting of his own hips against the mattress and the small smattering of pecks he kept dropping everywhere his lips could reach: on the back of those tasty bollocks and the soft-skinned sacks covering them. On the inside of a gently twitching thigh. On the musky junction between leg and groin. At the base of that hard, oh-so-hard, gorgeous cock.

“Anthony, I'm... I—want—I need... Oh, Norns, please. Please.” Loki wheezed incoherently, turning boneless with mounting desire, with surrender, as Tony's fingertips slid on the sweat that had gathered on the skin of his butt, brushing back and forth along his warm, hairy crack in a way that was turning him, literally, to mush.

“What? What do you want, beautiful? What do you need? I promise to give it to you. Anything, Loki. Everything. All you've got to do is ask.”

The Smurf tried his best to laugh, but didn't have enough air in his lungs to manage the feat, so he groaned deep in his chest instead, belly tense and legs unconsciously spreading further, offering himself so openly that Tony couldn't ignore his own need to reward such trust immediately and ended up scuttling upwards to plant a flurry of small, open mouthed kisses on the very tip of Loki's cock-head, nipping the leaking slit gently for good measure. The sorcerer's hips thrust frantically upwards, trying desperately to catch his open lips, to enter his mouth once again and Tony laughed with smug delight, catching that desperate dick in his hand before growling directly against the heated skin:
“Is this what you want, Snowflake? My mouth on your cock, sucking you to completion?”

“Yes. Please, yes. Yo... your mouth, Anthony. I need your glorious mouth.”

Tony had enough time to allow himself the briefest self-satisfied smirk before his own needs urged him on. He closed his hungry lips around the velvety tip of Loki's shaft once more. He was hard enough to hammer nails with his own dick by now, and he sure as hell had every intention of coming inside his pants like a randy teenager in the next couple of seconds, getting off on nothing but the pleasure of watching his god fall apart.

Tony took hold of Loki's delicious man-rod and began pumping the engorged base in time with the playful swirls of his tongue over the tip. Thickening pre-come dripped all over his lips, dribbling down towards his chin, his fist, and the mess of sweaty curls that adorned Loki's groin.
“You taste so good, baby. So goddamnedly good that I'm gonna keep nibbling you right here until the very end of time.” He promised fervently between one flat-tongued lick and the next, making Loki shiver in reaction and grunt breathy, incoherent 'unghs' that curled around Tony's senses and made his head spin with 100% lust.

It was too much, just... too much. The smell. The taste. The sounds his gorgeous Liesmith made as he began to fall apart to the rhythm of his enthusiastic sucking. Tony whimpered in reaction, humming as he swallowed all of Loki in one single, desperate gulp.

The asgardian let out a small, delicate whine as he froze in blissful agony. His slender back arched elegantly off the mattress and his hands settled blindly atop Tony's bowed head, running trembling, gentle fingertips through his hair as Loki's hips finally lost the battle they'd been waging with his fraying self-control and snapped abruptly upwards, ramming his cock inside Tony's accommodating throat once, twice, before spurting explosively and filling him up with a healthy dose of spunk. Tony swallowed every drop before lifting passion-darkened brown eyes towards his panting god, smiling around the softening shaft trying to slither ever so wetly out of his fuck-bruised lips.

Loki struggled to lift himself off the mattress, trying to curl protectively over him as he tugged Tony's head off his groin by the roots of his hair. Then he not-so-gently dragged the billionaire across both the tangled mess of bed sheets and his own lanky body, in order to embrace him with all the clumsiness of a small toddler trying to hug a big and beloved bear. The sloppy kiss that followed was all teeth and overwhelmed gratitude. It was sated passion and newborn tenderness combining into such a powerful mix of emotion that Tony ended up shooting his load inside his pants, untouched, just as he'd feared he would.

'I love you.' He thought, closing his brown eyes against the onslaught of it all: the pleasure and the smugness and the tidal wave of affection that was rampaging through him with the power of a supercharged engine.

Loki sagged bonelessly against the mattress once again, dragging Tony atop him. Post-orgasm-weakened long legs spread haphazardly under and around Tony's own, curling protectively about him and enfolding him in an intimate leg-embrace. A gasping, giggling, delighted mouth began peppering tiny little kisses all over his goatee and chin, his nose and the curve of his cheekbone before lowering to muzzle sleepily against his sweaty neck.
“You have reason to be proud of your oral skills, Anthony.” Loki whispered, making him laugh with amusement.

“And you have reason to be proud of your off-the-chart sex-appeal, Buttercup. I haven't come in my underwear since I was sixteen.”

Loki hummed drowsily, looking content and at peace as he tugged Tony even closer, seeking both further contact and intimacy without actually saying so.
“You're a closet cuddler, aren't you, babe?” Tony teased him and laughed with light-hearted merriment when the Smurf tried to twitch away from him, huffing adorably out loud:

“I am not!”

“Fine. Fine. I'm the closet cuddler, then. I like having you all soft and sated beside me, so you gotta stay put, Peaches. You can make fun of me for being a soppy romantic all you want. I'm not planning to complain as long as you stay where you are.” Tony cajoled, patting soothingly on a reedy shoulder.

Loki giggled under his breath and was in the process of turning to his side in order to maybe kiss Tony senseless once again when his lazy rolling motion halted abruptly and he froze, staring with horrified anger towards the window, where a couple of over-sized crows had managed to perch themselves over the balcony rail and where peeping creepily at them through the gaps in the open blinds.

Tony looked over his own shoulder, curious gaze focusing on the birds as he wondered why their presence seemed to have such weird effect on his no longer relaxed prince, and ended up almost jumping out of his own bloody skin when his gorgeous asgardian shot out of the bed as if flung out of a bow, right hand extended before his naked body as he sent a nasty blast of magic against the feather balls.
“Get out of here! Get the hell out of my life! My privacy is no longer yours to invade!” He snarled, seemingly deaf to the startled cackles the disgruntled beasts let out as they dove away from his attacking magic and shot up, towards the sky.

Tony made it to the Smurf's side in time to catch his reeling body as it began to sway backwards, catching him gently in his arms and propping him up against his own anxiously heaving chest before attempting to soothe him:
“Hey, calm down, Frosty. They were just a bunch of birds. I'll install some spikes out there or something, if they bother you that much. You won't ever see them again. I promise.”

Loki's bark of bitter laughter was so far removed from the rich and warm sound of a mere second ago that Tony's spine had begun crawling with dread by the time his god explained:
“Those were no ordinary birds. They were Huginn and Muginn, the Allfather's prized crows. They are the king's ultimate spies. And they saw us, Anthony. They saw us! That means Odin saw us, too.”

Chapter 15

Chapter 13

TBC