[Does he want to have sex with Loki? Tony isn't stupid. He knows where this is headed and that he is leading them both into something that could possibly be dangerous. They don't actually know each other, and playing games with the opposing team is never a good idea, but, well.]
[ The thought of nearly going through with this and, well, standing him up crosses Loki's mind. That would be an excellent bit of mischief, at the very least–to leave him wanting. Loki mulls that over. ]
I know how to knock. It's polite, you know.
[ As though Loki doesn't know how to deal with locked doors, if he had the cause to. Theoretically, because he's decided that he's absolutely going to to leave Stark to spend the evening alone. But somehow, over the course of ten or fifteen minutes, he goes back and forth, weighing the pros and cons of this, here, how much of a terrible idea it is, and, per usual, he promptly forgets about the cons and forges onwards nonetheless.
Either way, in an hour or so: here is is, standing in front of 17-A as he thinks about turning back again. Vrenille lives in the Up–what if he saw him here? It's not like he wouldn't allow it, obviously, but more importantly, it would be embarrassing, and this is already plenty embarrassing in itself.
He looks down the hallway; thinks again about going back to his little room in the Down, with the uncomfortable bed and the tiny window. And knocks on the door, because he is polite, and also, primarily, to put this into motion before he has too many regrets. ]
[ Tony expects Loki to appear right in his suite room just to spite him. Part of him wants that to happen, even though he knows it's a bad idea and that pissing Loki off isn't going to win him anything in the end. He can't help teasing the god, knowing that on some level in Duplicity he's a little bit closer to being as powerful as the god of mischief. But when Loki actually knocks on the door, he's surprised. Maybe even a little guilty for teasing him. He goes to open the door in person, dressed in a simple white shirt and nice dress pants without the tie and suit coat.
Once he sees Loki, Tony decides that this has to happen or they will both give in. He hokes a finger in the collar of Loki's shirt and pulls him in toward him, using his other hand to put a silencing finger to his own lips, sneaking him in the room as he pushes the door closed behind them. If Loki thinks he's going to say something, he'll be disappointed, because instead Tony kisses him. Because slowing down might give them a chance to rethink this mess. ]
[ Loki's just thinking that perhaps he ought to have considered breaking and entering like he'd initially planned when, all of a sudden: there's Stark, at the door. Seeing him in person confirms that it isn't his Stark; they share similarities, but–at the same time–there are some glaring differences. Both of them are matched in their ability to vex Loki, though, even if there's a different cast in the way this one manages it, given the circumstances.
He makes a face as Stark grips his collar, stumbling forward nonetheless, and he's already reaching up to wrest his grip free when, all of a sudden, Stark kisses him, and–there's the vexing, although to his credit, Loki is startled for barely half a second before he kisses him back on instinct alone, long and slow and culminating in a bite to his lip, just on the side of painful, before he pulls back to catch his breath. At some point, he's fisted a hand in Tony's shirt. ]
You're not supposed to be tall.
[ –Loki grouses, because that's really the glaring difference, although it sounds a little petty once he says it, so he kisses him again to cut off anything smart he might get in return. ] Bed. Where is it.
[The pain helps. It's distracting, giving him something else to focus on besides the fact that he is sleeping with the enemy. Not that it would be the first time. And, Tony reasons, technically this Loki isn't his enemy. So it doesn't count. The deep, rough kiss gets a groan out of him, especially as Loki pulls back, and he laughs in surprise at the complaint. Of all things to notice, Loki would focus on that. Tony would comment, but the follow up kiss is enough to derail him. The real need is coming from his groin, which is starting to be uncomfortably tight in his pants.]
Come on.
[He pulls him impatiently toward the bedroom by one wrist, half-dragging him if he has to, and once they get there Tony can't resist rounding back for another kiss, hungry and broken as he starts trying undo the front of Loki's pants at the same time.]
[ Loki stumbles after Stark as he pulls him into the bedroom, and well, this is–they're definitely doing this. He ought to have thought this through a little more, possibly, but...well, it's just sex, and he's got a quota that he has to take care of, so there's that. The fact that it's just sex with Tony Stark is unfortunate, but coincidental, and it's not like anyone has to find out. The fact that he's this hard over just kissing is no less unfortunate. ]
Yes, I am.
[ –he manages to correct, a little hoarsely as he reaches to fumble with Stark's pants at the same time as he does his. With far more coordination than he'd thought he would have, given his present state, he manages to make quick work of them, so that he can take his cock in hand and give it an experimental stroke, his other hand fisted in his shirt so that he can pull him into another kiss, quick and rough, before he pulls back enough to speak again–his grip, momentarily, firming as his eyes flick up to meet Tony's. ]
If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you, I hope you understand.
[Loki showed up and is letting himself be pulled along, so as far as Tony is concerned it's a win for the both of them. Perhaps a questionable win, yes, but he laughs deep in his throat when Loki threatens him, kissing the god deeply as if the promise is almost as arousing as the kissing that they've already done. The fact that Loki has him by the dick doesn't seem to alarm him in the least.]
Don't worry, precious.
[His answer is a whisper, with fingers lightly working to peel the clothes away from Loki's skin as he replies, blue eyes meeting green with genuine amusement.]
I won't tell a soul. I've always wondered what it was like to sleep with a god. Why would I want to share that?
[Tony's hands slide around to cup Loki's ass, pulling him forward as he rocks his hips toward him.]
But I can see why he took that picture. He didn't even get your good side.
[ Loki makes a face at precious, but it's in between kissing Tony, and therefore fleeting. Either way, Stark makes up for it by pulling him in close and arching up against him as much as he makes up for it with the flattery–which is probably mockery, but Loki decides to take it in earnest, as that's the more flattering option. ]
If only you were there to impart your creative vision.
[ Loki's voice catches as Tony rocks his hips up against him, his hands–briefly–going clumsy. He releases him then, his hand sliding up to his chest so that he can steer him, until the backs of Tony's knees hit the bed. ]
Down.
[ –he says, condescendingly, as though Tony were some sort of pet. Either Tony obeys or Loki helps him obey, pushing him to sit on the bed so that he can straddle his lap, that hand on his chest sliding up further so that he can grip his jaw a little more tightly than is strictly comfortable, and lean in to kiss him again. ]
[ The condescending tone is definitely pure Loki. It actually gets a grin out of Tony, who sits on the bed obediently even as the god pushes him back, sitting on his lap like he belongs there. ]
If you could see what I'm seeing, you wouldn't be so hard on my vision.
[ He doesn't get to say much more before Loki takes hold of his jaw to kiss him, forcing his participation as if he has to claim Tony to make it worth anything. That he doesn't particularly mind. Once he gets the chance to speak again, Tony purrs. ]
He didn't get you off, did he? Filling the quota isn't bad, but it'd be better if you got more than that. If you want, I can help with that.
[ Tony lifts his body up against Loki, pulling him forward with both hands cupping his ass from behind. ]
You know, something tells me you don't get enough personal time.
[ Flattery never gets old, even when it's obvious, and Loki cards his fingers through Tony's hair, gripping it just on the edge of too tightly to keep his focus on him, even if the guidance isn't strictly necessary. At his words, though, Loki flushes a little; he's right. Had he told him? He can't remember. Even so, he can remember how the man had left him, after he'd taken his pleasure, the confusing mix of shame and frustration and arousal that it had stirred up– ]
I get plenty of personal time.
[ His answer is uncharacteristically defensive, and a little too quick. Stark's pulled him flush up against him, practically, and he takes advantage of that closeness to grind down against him, with deliberate (glorious) purpose. The curtness had been fleeting; when he continues on, as he continues, teasingly, his voice is low and honeyed. ]
But if you'd like to help, I suppose I can't stop you. That's what heroic types do, isn't it? Help.
[ That one is perhaps a little too close to home. Tony realizes it after he sees Loki's reaction. The joke about needing more personal time might as well be a comment about Loki's self care, and Tony doesn't have to be a genius to know that is probably a tricky subject. Yes, he's an Avenger and yes he's had his share of legitimate clashes with the god of his world in the past, but the thing about living your life dedicated to the future is that he believes, he has to believe, in change. No one can remain static forever. And everyone has their reasons for things.
He doesn't take back the comment, but he does shift his posture subtly, giving Loki a bit more advantage and submitting to the pull without resistance, looking up to Loki, because he knows that angle has its appeal. Tony grinds back with a moan, one that ends with a hiss. ]
Yes. Ah, yes. [ He recovers enough to flash Loki a slightly wild-eyed grin. ] You know, the problem with guys like that is they never appreciate you. Everyone's got too many other things going on.
At least heroes stick around and do what you need them to.
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017-A. Should I leave the door open?
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I know how to knock. It's polite, you know.
[ As though Loki doesn't know how to deal with locked doors, if he had the cause to. Theoretically, because he's decided that he's absolutely going to to leave Stark to spend the evening alone. But somehow, over the course of ten or fifteen minutes, he goes back and forth, weighing the pros and cons of this, here, how much of a terrible idea it is, and, per usual, he promptly forgets about the cons and forges onwards nonetheless.
Either way, in an hour or so: here is is, standing in front of 17-A as he thinks about turning back again. Vrenille lives in the Up–what if he saw him here? It's not like he wouldn't allow it, obviously, but more importantly, it would be embarrassing, and this is already plenty embarrassing in itself.
He looks down the hallway; thinks again about going back to his little room in the Down, with the uncomfortable bed and the tiny window. And knocks on the door, because he is polite, and also, primarily, to put this into motion before he has too many regrets. ]
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Once he sees Loki, Tony decides that this has to happen or they will both give in. He hokes a finger in the collar of Loki's shirt and pulls him in toward him, using his other hand to put a silencing finger to his own lips, sneaking him in the room as he pushes the door closed behind them. If Loki thinks he's going to say something, he'll be disappointed, because instead Tony kisses him. Because slowing down might give them a chance to rethink this mess. ]
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He makes a face as Stark grips his collar, stumbling forward nonetheless, and he's already reaching up to wrest his grip free when, all of a sudden, Stark kisses him, and–there's the vexing, although to his credit, Loki is startled for barely half a second before he kisses him back on instinct alone, long and slow and culminating in a bite to his lip, just on the side of painful, before he pulls back to catch his breath. At some point, he's fisted a hand in Tony's shirt. ]
You're not supposed to be tall.
[ –Loki grouses, because that's really the glaring difference, although it sounds a little petty once he says it, so he kisses him again to cut off anything smart he might get in return. ] Bed. Where is it.
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Come on.
[He pulls him impatiently toward the bedroom by one wrist, half-dragging him if he has to, and once they get there Tony can't resist rounding back for another kiss, hungry and broken as he starts trying undo the front of Loki's pants at the same time.]
You aren't supposed to look this good.
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Yes, I am.
[ –he manages to correct, a little hoarsely as he reaches to fumble with Stark's pants at the same time as he does his. With far more coordination than he'd thought he would have, given his present state, he manages to make quick work of them, so that he can take his cock in hand and give it an experimental stroke, his other hand fisted in his shirt so that he can pull him into another kiss, quick and rough, before he pulls back enough to speak again–his grip, momentarily, firming as his eyes flick up to meet Tony's. ]
If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you, I hope you understand.
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Don't worry, precious.
[His answer is a whisper, with fingers lightly working to peel the clothes away from Loki's skin as he replies, blue eyes meeting green with genuine amusement.]
I won't tell a soul. I've always wondered what it was like to sleep with a god. Why would I want to share that?
[Tony's hands slide around to cup Loki's ass, pulling him forward as he rocks his hips toward him.]
But I can see why he took that picture. He didn't even get your good side.
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If only you were there to impart your creative vision.
[ Loki's voice catches as Tony rocks his hips up against him, his hands–briefly–going clumsy. He releases him then, his hand sliding up to his chest so that he can steer him, until the backs of Tony's knees hit the bed. ]
Down.
[ –he says, condescendingly, as though Tony were some sort of pet. Either Tony obeys or Loki helps him obey, pushing him to sit on the bed so that he can straddle his lap, that hand on his chest sliding up further so that he can grip his jaw a little more tightly than is strictly comfortable, and lean in to kiss him again. ]
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If you could see what I'm seeing, you wouldn't be so hard on my vision.
[ He doesn't get to say much more before Loki takes hold of his jaw to kiss him, forcing his participation as if he has to claim Tony to make it worth anything. That he doesn't particularly mind. Once he gets the chance to speak again, Tony purrs. ]
He didn't get you off, did he? Filling the quota isn't bad, but it'd be better if you got more than that. If you want, I can help with that.
[ Tony lifts his body up against Loki, pulling him forward with both hands cupping his ass from behind. ]
You know, something tells me you don't get enough personal time.
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I get plenty of personal time.
[ His answer is uncharacteristically defensive, and a little too quick. Stark's pulled him flush up against him, practically, and he takes advantage of that closeness to grind down against him, with deliberate (glorious) purpose. The curtness had been fleeting; when he continues on, as he continues, teasingly, his voice is low and honeyed. ]
But if you'd like to help, I suppose I can't stop you. That's what heroic types do, isn't it? Help.
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He doesn't take back the comment, but he does shift his posture subtly, giving Loki a bit more advantage and submitting to the pull without resistance, looking up to Loki, because he knows that angle has its appeal. Tony grinds back with a moan, one that ends with a hiss. ]
Yes. Ah, yes. [ He recovers enough to flash Loki a slightly wild-eyed grin. ] You know, the problem with guys like that is they never appreciate you. Everyone's got too many other things going on.
At least heroes stick around and do what you need them to.