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Loki Laufeyson of Jotunheim, trickster god, master magician, son of secrets, gem keeper, shape-changer, brother of Thor, king of the Asgards… stared in utter horror at the silk dress.
He looked down at his chest -- and it was a very nice chest, admittedly, toned and lean and while he was no brick wall like his brother, there were muscles and he wasn’t at all ashamed of his appearance -- and then back at the dress.
“You know, Anthony,” he said, plucking at the fabric with its obvious darts for a chest to fill. One that he didn’t currently posses, “if you want a woman, I can be a woman for you.”
“You can be a horse, too, Friendship is Magic,” Tony retorted. “I’m not asking you to change shape for me. I don’t want someone -- or something -- else. I want you.”
“In a dress,” Loki said. “And I’m not someone else, no matter what my form. I’m still the same person, the same soul, whether I am male or female, serpent or equine, or glowing golden shower.”
Tony rolled his tongue around in his mouth. “Not sure I needed to know that last one. Yep, yep, can’t unhear that. Thanks, really. Look, you asked me. You asked me what I wanted.”
“I asked you what you wanted because it is custom to perform to your lover’s expectations, particularly on the day celebrating their birth.” He rubbed the dress’s fabric between his fingers. It was… remarkably soft, slippery. Cool to the touch. Against his better judgement, he found himself wondering what it might feel rubbing against other parts of his body.
“And I appreciate that, Lo,” Tony said, dropping the sly smirk and the walls of playboy billionaire, the erratic genius and projecting that sincere, utterly open man that Loki had -- quite unintentionally, to be sure -- fallen in love with. “More than I can find words for. You know that, right?”
“Anthony, I could give you the world,” Loki began--
“Uh, no,” Tony said. “That worked out very badly last time, let’s not have a repeat of that.”
Loki shifted his gaze back to the dress. “That isn’t what I meant,” he said. “I can perform wonders, show you sights unseen by mortal man. Take you nearly anywhere in the universe, that you care to go. We could dine on the choicest foods, have the most luxurious home. Please, beloved, I do wish to give you… everything in my power.”
“You don’t understand why I want this, do you?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Do you know how intimidating you are?”
Loki blinked. Tony had never found him intimidating. Loki had badly miscalculated, everything about Midgard and its inhabitants, and Tony -- among others -- had stood up to his dreams of conquest with frightening efficiency. “It had escaped my attention that you find me so, beloved.”
Tony gave him a rough chuckle. “Fear’s a monster that’s kept me company for a long time, Lo,” Tony said. “If I stopped to acknowledge it, at all, I don’t know that I could ever keep moving.”
“Anthony,” Loki said, then stopped. He wasn’t used to this man, this… Earth’s mightiest heroes, he’d heard them described before and the description was accurate… he wasn’t used to Tony admitting weakness, fear. Vulnerability. He’d seen the last on Tony’s face from time to time -- Loki was nothing if not an expert in reading body language -- usually in response to something Loki did or said, but it was always sweet. The way Tony’s face relaxed in the middle of loveplay, the sudden, surprising way Tony would reach out and brush his thumb over Loki’s lip. “Are you telling me that you’re… afraid of me?”
He wasn’t quite sure he could bear that. He’d done much to make up for his mistakes, brutal and terrible and uncivilized as he’d been in ambition gone sour under envy and mistrust. If Tony feared him, feared Loki… the thought that Tony might have felt pressured into the relationship? That was utterly loathsome. He didn’t want to know the answer, and yet, he needed to know.
“Intimidated, sweetheart,” Tony said. “Not afraid.”
Loki let the air out that was caught and sharp in his throat, relief flooding him.
“And this?” Back to the dress, because now Loki needed to understand.
“You’re a god,” Tony said with a shrug. “And I’m not. No tech, no trying, no giving a hundred and ten percent will ever get me even in the same stratosphere as you.”
“You know I don’t care about that,” Loki said, although he hesitated before saying it. There were many things that he did care about, and one of those things was mortals were… well. Mortal. He’d taunted Thor about it, with his Jane Foster and the thoughts and words were coming back to bite him in the ass. Another thing, on his list, to apologize to his king.
“I do, though,” Tony said. He laced his fingers with Loki’s, although it did little to ease the sudden, burning sting. “Maybe it’s shallow, and petty. I’m a pretty good catch, for a human, you know. On a superficial level; rich, smart, witty, good-looking--”
“And so, so modest,” Loki chided, gently.
“The point is,” Tony said, “that humans don’t deal well in relationships on an uneven footing. We don’t. We’re competitive little shits. If I spent all my time feeling like I should be kneeling at your feet… I’ll start sabotaging us.”
There was a spurt of desperate, probably misplaced, longing at that.
Tony’s eyebrows went up. “That’s a thing for you, is it?”
“Wouldn’t you know that, already?” Loki asked.
“Too long in Thor’s shadow,” Tony said, “and aching to have your own time to shine. Howard cast almost as dark a pall over me. Well, we have that in common, at least.”
“We have many things in common,” Loki said. “We both wish to save the world.”
“You wanted to rule the world,” Tony pointed out.
“Darling, I’ve read your histories. It is the same thing. But let us not argue semantics, right now. Do you -- truly -- feel that it would help you, if I do this thing for you? Your women occupy a lesser place of power, even now. But I didn’t know you believed them inferior.”
“I don’t,” Tony said with a shrug. “There’s nothing shameful about being a woman, or wearing clothing designed for a female body. It’s a symbol, though.”
“And symbols are very powerful,” Loki said.
“Asking you to do this, wanting you to do it,” Tony said, not quite meeting Loki’s gaze, “is about giving me power over you. For a little while. To balance the scales. For you to be on my arm as my good girl, to submit to me in this--”
Loki’s fingers tightened on the dress still clasped in his hands. Soft and smooth. He’d seen women wearing that sort of outfit before; recalled the style they wore their hair, how they’d painted their faces and adorned their skin with jewels.
“You will give me a gift for this, beloved,” Loki said. “Something… gold. With emeralds. Would be nice.” He wrapped himself up in magic, absorbing the details of the dress, fitting it against his skin. A crackle of energy and he went from clad in the clothing he normally wore on Midgard, suits and trousers and tie, to sheathed in the gown, feeling the slippery weight of it across his shoulders.
Shoes, he recalled, high heels and stockings. Hair pulled up and back and held with thin knives that were disguised as hairpins. The makeup was harder, he’d rarely had a need, and his own female face was beyond beauty, but Tony would expect the full capitulation. Eye-pencil and color, blush on his cheeks and lip paint.
Tony blinked, his pupils widening and his mouth dropped open. “Oh.” He reached out and touched Loki’s face with gentle, wondering fingers. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”
Loki stepped into Tony’s personal space, felt the heat radiating off the man. “Beloved,” Loki said, pitching his voice higher, aiming for sultry. Tony’s pupils opened even further. “I keep telling you that I will do whatever you ask. If you want me to kneel, I will do it. Everything I am, everything I will be. For you.” He touched his fingers to Tony’s chest, feeling the heartbeat underneath.
Tony held out a hand. “For the moment, I’d really just like it if you danced with me.” Music swelled, strings and brass, from the speakers in the ceiling, activated with Tony’s words by the AI that inhabited the building. Always thinking ahead, his beloved, even when he was unsure of success.
Bending his knee in a quick curtsey, Loki smiled and took Tony’s hand. “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Stark.”
They danced, and the music was sweet, and the look on Tony’s face was sweeter. He truly, no matter what he’d said, wanted this. Not to humiliate or demean, Loki knew those sensations bitterly and well, but just… to level the playing field, a little.
Loki was awkward in the dress, the shoes. He knew how to be a woman when he wore a woman’s face, a woman’s body. Pretending to be a woman, that was harder. It required him to think, to plan, and in those plans and thoughts, he was clumsier than normal. Leaned on Tony’s arm for balance. Trusted Tony to lead in the dance.
There was a sweetness in the surrender, something Loki had never meant to feel.
And when the music ended, Tony kissed him. The paint on Loki’s lip was waxy, tasted odd and added a strange spice to the kiss. Tony’s tongue flicked out, coaxing Loki to open up. Tony circled Loki’s tongue with his own, pressed his body up against Loki’s and Loki felt the press of Tony’s erection against his hip.
Loki didn’t know how to shut this man out; he hadn’t meant to fall in love, hadn’t meant to want and need and crave. There’d been a wall around Loki’s heart so thick that it would have taken a battering ram a hundred years to make a dent.
And then Tony had smiled at him; a real smile, not that coy, sarcastic little smirk. And Loki thought he would upend the universe to see it again.
Tony’s hands were wandering, and the silken material was slick and heated against Loki’s skin, a terrible tease. Over his suddenly aching nipples, down to caress his buttocks, teasing up his thighs and along his hips. Making him wild. The pressure, the slide and slither of the dress was maddening.
He caught Tony’s punishing hands, whipping Loki with sweetness, and pressed them against his chest. Kissed each fingertip.
Refusing to burn alone, Loki returned Tony’s touches, eager to drink his fill of Tony’s flesh, dragged one hand up and down and over. Down Tony’s back and that proud, unbending spine, across the luscious arc of Tony’s ass.
He wanted. Nothing else mattered. Loki wanted the smell and the taste and the feel of Tony, would do anything for it.
He was like a drugged creature, fingers frantic at Tony’s belt, the buttons of his shirt. A jabbing pain struck his kidney and Loki realized that Tony had pushed him up against the bedamned door. Lifted the hem of Loki’s dress and was pooling the fabric around Loki’s thighs.
“No underwear,” Tony teased, fingers circling Loki’s throbbing cock. “Kinky. I knew I liked you.”
Liked.
Such an ugly word.
Loki keened, his heart aching even as Tony licked at his cock, driving his body wild with desire.
“Is that all, beloved?” Loki couldn’t help but ask, even as he spread his legs to give Tony more room to work, even as he held the dress up with both hands, pressing it against his belly. Wanton. Shameless. Desperate. Needy.
“You’re an eager little thing, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Tony’s mouth hovered mere breaths away, teasing, withholding pleasure. Almost cruel, except Loki knew how wonderful it could be, when Tony relented.
“Yes,” he agreed, because he was eager.
“Say it.”
“Anthony…” Loki whined, his hips moving without conscious thought.
Tony leaned in, licked slow and wet up the shaft. “Say it.”
“I’m…” Loki started and the words stuck in his throat, he… he could not. So many times, he’d been pushed down, been pushed around, come in second place, had to swallow it down and bear it with a smile. “Anthony, please.”
Tony cupped Loki’s balls, teased at them, maddeningly. It was bliss and torture, those slow touches and easy caresses, designed to stoke the fire, make it burn and ache and…
“Say it,” Tony said, almost pleading now, his pupils blown and that lush, lower lip swollen with kissing. He looked mussed and well used and Loki loved him.
The thing in him, stubborn pride, broke. Loki loved this human, this mortal, this… frustratingly beautiful man. The weight lifted, he could breathe again. He wasn’t lowering himself, he was pulling Tony up.
“I’m your good girl, Anthony,” Loki said. “So, so eager for you. Please, beloved. I want you.”
“Good girl,” Tony repeated, his voice a harsh whisper. “So good for me.”
Tony’s mouth came down on him again, taking Loki in to the root, and his hands went to Tony’s shoulders to balance himself. The room echoed with the sounds they made, low, eager moans and desperate cries. They were, neither of them, tame and decorous beings. They were defiant and fearless and hot-blooded, uncivilized, wild.
And they made love like it. Rough and eager, like the passionate creatures they were, and when Tony finally pushed him over the edge, swallowed down Loki’s seed, Loki screamed out a cry of ecstasy that shook them both.
Tony jerked his chin toward the chair, and Loki could almost read his mind, bending over and presenting, gripping the bottom of the seat and holding on for dear life. Lube was easily enough provided; a murmur of magic and Tony’s fingers were slick and dripping.
He worked them into Loki’s hole, rough, almost too fast, the burn and ache and stretch left Loki gasping, fingers clenched on the cushion.
“Now, oh, please,” Loki begged.
“Look at you, baby,” Tony said, pulling Loki’s hair until he faced one of the room’s huge floor to ceiling mirrors.
The dress was pushed up under his armpits, the makeup around his mouth was smeared. His hair had fallen out of its styling, clinging to his face in sweaty clumps.
“Who’s my good girl?”
“I’m not your good girl,” Loki grated out, too desperate and eager for Tony to fill him up to have a care what he was saying. “I am your bad bitch, and I want that fucking cock in me, now.”
“Anything you want, baby girl,” Tony said, and then his dick was pressing against Loki’s aching hole. He shifted, pushed back against the penetration, wanting it, needing it.
“There you are,” Loki said when Tony bottomed out. He panted through the ache, while Tony shivered and shook and trembled and waited, and then, “oh, now… please now. Please, please, Tony, fuck me, do it now.”
And then Loke was lost to the rhythm, the heavy, sensual strokes and the throbbing feel of Tony’s cock in him, sliding over his prostate, the ridge catching on his rim as Tony pulled almost all the way out before slamming home again.
It was good, it was magnificent, it was relentless and delicious and wicked and so, so perfect. Loki bent further down, changing the angle until he was practically bent in half.
“Oh, god, pretty girl, you feel so good, I love feeling you clench around me.” Tony was babbling. Praise and swear words and grunts and moans.
A few sharp, eager jabs at Loki’s prostate and it didn’t matter that he’d had a release down Tony’s throat only ten minutes ago, he was going to---
“Aaaaah,” Tony cried, pulsing inside him as Loki clenched. Heat and wet and… oh, oh. Loki’s dick jerked once, twice, and then Tony’s hand was on him, stroking him through a second… then catching him around the waist to keep Loki from falling face-first into his spill.
“That’s my good girl,” Tony said, soothing.
“Bad. Bitch.”