Work Text:
Rock 'N' Roll Fantasy
Loki liked to believe he had the propensity for being level headed, when the situation required it. In his not so distant past, he was quick to anger and showed very little self-restraint; after all, he had been trapped in a circumstance that unfairly robbed him of both money and pride. He had become a victim all over again; but rather than being a victim of childhood abuse, he had been victimized financially and artistically.
It was only after he'd been liberated from that circumstance, that he found his mood began to even out. He hadn't had to use any outside substances to mellow himself out, which would inevitably cause him to forget his woes. In fact, he had been able to work without any problems whatsoever; he even managed to set aside his grudge against Rolling Stone magazine, enough to grant them an interview which was supposed to be conducted by the editor-in-chief.
What he hadn't properly prepared himself for was becoming reacquainted with Tony Stark. The seventeen year old, hardheaded reporter who'd written that god awful article about Odin's Sons; the same seventeen year old that Loki had stupidly promised something that he hadn't necessarily expected to fulfill. Then again, he most certainly wasn't about to, once he read about how much of a megalomaniac he apparently was; and how his ego had the capacity to flatten an entire city by his mere presence.
The thought hadn't even crossed his mind that if he played Los Angeles once more that Stark would be at the show; but not only that, that he would be front row, center stage. It had been both shocking and jarring; simply because time had done very little to curb his curiosity about the boy. And his curiosity only piqued by the pretty redhead who clung to Stark's arm, as if she was attempting to meld into him and become one with him.
Curiosity had turned to annoyance, and eventually into full-blown rage. His grievances about the article reemerged very suddenly; and he wanted, in any way, to get some sort of revenge on the cad. Which resulted in his ill-advised descent from the stage and into Stark's awaiting arms; a thing he hadn't planned out very well, and one he immediately regretted in retrospect.
Except his emotions had gotten the better of him; which was something that he was never proud of. But he suspected that issue had all been over, and he'd never see Stark again. He suspected that he had won, that Stark wouldn't show his face again; and yet he was proven very wrong.
It would be futile to say that he was not fascinated by Stark. His superior intellect had intrigued him from the beginning; Stark had moments where his wit outshone the best of men, and that too was highly appealing to Loki's sensibilities. But more than that, begrudgingly so, Loki found himself utterly smitten with Stark now; he thought it was only a passing fancy, until it progressed into sexual territory rather quickly.
Stark had grown very handsome within the past five years, stupidly so even. And for someone who toed the line of nymphomania and asexuality, Loki had swung towards the former and practically ravished Stark. And he would have gone further, done impossibly awful things to him had Phil not walked in.
It was precisely why he was incensed now. It had been some time since he'd had any sexual contact with anyone; the last time had been almost two months prior in Moscow. He had bedded some Russian model, which he had met on a magazine shoot and that had been the extent of his physicality.
Bucky was his only alternative now. He had realized it would be stupid, stupider than his previous actions anyway, to invite Stark to bed with him; especially if he was meant to write another article on him. And the probability seemed high that this article would be as slanderous as the last; since Loki found himself at a loss on how to react to Stark without being positively venomous.
Loki lit a cigarette, before massaging his erection through his trousers. It didn't feel quite as good as when Stark touched him; his fingers were strangely calloused and his skin dry, which would normally be an irritant to him but felt pleasant instead.
"It's been awhile." Bucky declared suddenly from behind him, while securing the door closed. "Maybe three, four months,"
"Does that matter?" Loki rolled his eyes skyward, increasing the pressure in which he was stroking himself.
"I missed it, you know."
"Will you shut up and take off your clothes." He peered over his shoulder; annoyed by the fact Bucky was only shirtless.
Bucky laughed in exasperation, reaching down to unbuckle the gaudy belt buckle that he always wore; before making good use of both the button and zipper of his jeans. Loki turned fully to watch him, although he found the sight to be lackluster at best.
It wasn't to say that Bucky wasn't attractive, he certainly was; but Loki's attention had shifted elsewhere. And despite knowing how lethal it was to imagine Stark; he knew that was the only way he could get off. It was pointless to deny it; even if he hated the admission, he figured it was better just to accept it or he'd never find any relief.
Once Bucky had stripped himself entirely, he opened his arms as if to showcase himself. Loki swept his eyes down his body, focusing on his cock that wasn't even hard yet; which was inevitably a problem since he wanted a quick fuck.
"Get on the bed." He directed, taking the cigarette from between his lips and placing it into the ashtray on the bedside table.
"Yes, sir," Bucky replied. "We've never had pissy sex before. You only like to have sex with me when you're happy, usually."
In all honesty that was true; Loki hadn't a predilection for angry sex, regardless of what people thought. When he was angry, the last thing he wanted was to be touched intimately. He especially did not want to bottom in that position either; although his preference for bottoming was rare.
But if one wanted to play with straight boys, one usually had to bottom until they were comfortable enough to want to get fucked. Bucky had been the same way in the beginning; which had been a pain in the ass, both literally and metaphorically.
Loki watched as Bucky climbed onto the bed, and rested his back against the headboard. He opened his legs widely, a clear invitation for Loki to broach the distance between them. Without any thought against the contrary, Loki kicked off his boots and peeled off his trousers. Luckily he had forgone underwear today, since he imagined any further obstacles would end with him going insane.
"That is one hard dick." Bucky quipped. "I think you started before me."
Rather than respond, which would inevitably cause a slew of hateful retorts to spring forth from his mouth, Loki chose instead to also climb onto the bed and in between Bucky's legs; but only to the point where he was level with his groin.
Slowly he began to stroke Bucky's inner thighs, before leaning in to tongue at the head of his cock. As to be expected, Bucky let out a surprised noise by his ministrations; which he chose to increase in order to get him erect and fast.
Loki sucked the head of Bucky's cock into his mouth, laving it with his tongue, until further pleasure sounds rumbled out of him. Despite his best efforts to remain perfectly in control, Loki felt his cock twitch in response; which only seemed to become more prominent once he shut his eyes and envisioned Stark in Bucky's place instead.
The idea of Stark sprawled out in front of him was motivation enough to bring more of Bucky's cock into his mouth; humming as it slid effortlessly towards the back of his throat. He was no stranger to deep throating Bucky; he frequently did it because it was one of his many turn-ons, and the best way to get both of them in the mood.
He sucked wantonly on him, hollowing his cheeks for optimal pleasure. And quite frankly, he found himself divulging into those unnecessary fantasies of it being Stark instead. From touch alone, Loki suspected he was bigger by an inch or so than Bucky; he seemed thicker too, which was something that piqued his interest particularly, especially since that's what he looked for when he chose to be fucked.
That thought alone made him moan around Bucky, who responded in turn by carding both his hands through his hair, and rooting him to the spot. But Loki had different plans altogether; slowly he began to bob his head, which loosened the grip on his hair, and ignited another sound from Bucky.
Loki lapped at the vein on the underside of Bucky's cock, until he was sure that Bucky was hard enough for his purposes. With a particularly drawn out suck, he pulled away and admired his handiwork. Bucky's cock was flushed red, lying against his belly; he was nice and hard, hard enough for Loki to ride him.
Reaching towards the bedside table, Loki yanked open the drawer where he tossed a small travel bag into it with essentials that ranged from lighters, sticks of gum, condoms, and lubrication. After all, he couldn't rely on Phil to buy those things for him; mostly because the idiot was flustered by anything that might scream of sexuality. And Bucky was someone who'd only make innuendoes unnecessarily, which he tried to avoid at all costs.
Loki unearthed the small tube of lubrication, before he straddled Bucky; he forced Bucky to take the tube, and was rewarded with a look disbelief for his efforts. Considering he hadn't let Bucky top him in some time, it must have come as somewhat of a shock to be given the opportunity to do so now.
"Are you sure about this?" Bucky asked, even though he already one-handedly unscrewed the tube. "You haven't let me do this in ages."
"I didn't ask for your opinion, did I?" He returned tersely, grabbing onto the headboard with both hands and leaning forward; making it easier for Bucky to prep him.
"Shit, you are on edge." Bucky muttered, only to slide a hand against the curve of his ass and fondle it the way that he liked it. "I guess sometimes you just need a good fuck to ease the tension."
"If you don't hurry up, I'll take care of myself with my own fingers." He threatened, but almost mewed as Bucky's other hand spread him open, for he could press two slick fingers against his opening.
Bucky circled his opening slowly, which made his cock twitch agreeably. It was the way he'd taught him how to handle him; due to the fact, Bucky hadn't delved into sex with another man before, and while he'd been knowledgeable (scarily so) about a woman's anatomy; he lacked knowledge when it came to a man's.
Adding the perfect amount of pressure, Bucky eased one finger into him before immediately adding the second one in as well. There was a bit of discomfort, a slight burn even, but it was a familiar feeling that eventually alleviated as Bucky started to thrust his fingers in and out of him.
Loki gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, reveling in the fantasy that he was building up in his head. Stark was the one rhythmically moving his fingers inside of him; twisting them ever so slightly and parting them in order to accommodate to his girth.
Within moments another finger slid into his body, jutting upward, and grazing the small bundle of nerves inside of him. Loki cried out in spite of himself, which broke the fantasy momentarily. Bucky laughed that breathy chuckle that sometimes came up in the middle of intimacy; and he couldn't say he appreciated it currently.
"You want it really bad." Bucky thrust his fingers deeper inside of him, extracting another cry out of him which was downright embarrassing. "You're hard as a rock, sweetheart."
"Don't call me that." Loki spat out, leaning forward further in an attempt to remove those invasive fingers. "Stop it! I'm ready! I'm ready now!"
Despite his exclamation, Bucky only wriggled his fingers and hit his prostate again. Pleasure rippled through his body, causing him to arch his back and moan wantonly; which only increased as Bucky massaged his prostate to the point where he was seeing stars. But the sensation didn't last beyond a few moments; Bucky finally slid his fingers out of him and chose instead to knead his ass with both hands.
"How do you want this?"
"For you," Loki panted, forcing his eyes open to stare at the person he did not want to see at all. "For you, to shut up; I'll use your body as I see fit."
"Damn, you really are in a mood."
"I said shut up." He glowered, before letting go of the headboard; he relocated the lubrication on the bed and covered his palm with it, only to grab a hold of Bucky's cock and pump it as fast as he could.
That insufferable teasing air about Bucky finally dissipated; he lifted his hips, thrusting into his hand in order to heighten the sensation. But that was hardly Loki's goal; he released him shortly thereafter and spread the rest of the lube absently across his own erection as if an afterthought.
Once he was certain he'd regained control, he reached behind him and held Bucky by the base of his cock as he lined himself up. Recklessly he sat down and felt the burn of being stretched more so than what he had been prepared for. He couldn't help but hiss from the sensation, which differed from the colorful curses that blurted out from Bucky's mouth; undoubtedly from pleasure.
Loki rested his hands against Bucky's chest; repeating the ritual of closing his eyes and tapping into his fantasy that refused to stick for very long. So long as Bucky kept his mouth shut, he imagined it would be easier to think of Stark underneath him with his cock buried into him to the hilt.
That smart little smile on Stark's face, those calloused fingers on his hips, and that solid, thick cock inside of him was enough to propel him to move. He lifted his weight gradually, focusing on the burn, until he sank down again onto Stark's member.
Stark's hips snapped up ever so slightly, reigniting those sparks of pleasure inside of him, and demanding that he continue with his ministrations which he did. He threw caution to the wind, too painfully hard for a drawn out sexual session; and began to ride Stark relentlessly.
He controlled his weight with every movement, hoisting himself up and to the very tip of Stark's member, before he eased back down onto the base; and repeated the action over and over again until it became uncoordinated and inelegant. And that's what he loved about sex; he could lose his control willingly, and revel in the way Stark was pushing into him desperately.
They worked together like a well-oiled machine; Loki moaned out something that could have resembled his surname, but it was lost in another cry once Stark pressed hard into his prostate. And the sensation was enough to force him to lean inward, supporting himself on his hands that were still planted against Stark's chest.
Frantically he chased after that sensation, until Stark's cock was pounding into his prostate over and over again; in the same way he had done with his fingers. But it was less of a massage and more of a full-blown beating, and it made his entire body buzz with heat and desire. So much so even, the whole bed seemed to shake from how hard he was riding him.
Stark's hands clung to his hips hard; digging his nails into his flesh until he was sure it broke open. His hips were helplessly lifting up, despite Loki's impressive weight, and sent them both into panting and moaning messes.
Loki grabbed onto his own cock, jerking himself off, and driving himself closer and closer to the edge. And it was the knowledge that that precocious, idiotic boy journalist was doing this to him that almost made him come. That stupidly charming boy, who had been so eager to please him; and yet the same one who Loki had forced to wait for five years; but now he was grown up and beautiful and everything he shouldn't have wanted to covet.
He shouldn't have wanted Stark so badly; shouldn't even have realized it as he sunk down and forced his cock deeper into him, and ceased his movements beyond a compulsive roll of his hips. But that was all he wanted; he needed Stark like he needed air or music or any other foolish comparison.
Before he knew it, his body was riding Stark again until he was so close that whole body began to tremor, predicting the inevitable blow-up. It was only when he looked down to see Stark's face flushed, drenched in sweat with that smart tongue poked out from the corner of his mouth that he lost his control and came hard enough to make him see stars.
Loki made a noise that was strangely melodic even to his own ears, as he rode out his orgasm; but his body couldn't handle the motions any longer and he crumbled onto Stark. He moaned again once his body was jarred off of Stark, and he willingly allowed himself to be rolled onto his back.
Within moments, Stark was fucking into him desperately; having yet to find release. His thrusts were uncoordinated and reckless, pounding into Loki in a way that felt sinfully good after coming so hard not so long ago. But the sensation was soon replaced with another as Stark's hips stilled and he filled him with his release, and collapsed onto him soon thereafter.
They lay entangled with one another, until Loki opened his eyes again and was struck hard by his reality. Bucky was sweat-drenched and breathing heavily against his sternum with his arms wrapped around his body tightly, instead of that cocky son of a bitch Stark.
"Get off me, you wanker!" Loki hissed and unceremoniously shoved Bucky off of him. "And while you're at it, go to your own bloody room!"
"Jesus Christ, what the hell's gotten into you?"
"I said get out!"
"I heard you, I heard you!" Bucky shouted back, while he rolled off the bed to collect his clothes.
Loki ignored the proceedings completely, choosing instead to roll onto his stomach, and grab a hold of one of the many pillows stacked against the headboard. He hugged it closely to his body and shot out an ugly insult to Bucky who was quick to return the favor; before he stormed out of the room and slammed the doors behind him.
But that was hardly a matter of importance to him. He and Bucky frequently got into spats; especially if the latter wasn't doing his job properly. And well, Loki had his own set of problems to overthink much of which had to do with Tony Stark.
"Sentiment," Loki scoffed, before shutting his eyes, and trying very hard not to imagine the pillow in his arms was a pliant and young journalist instead.