Chapter Text
Loki was once again in Asgard. At that time of year, the fire rituals were celebrated, and for seven complete cycles of the Sun, the Aesir would beseech the gods to keep the fire alive and warm to survive the coming winter.
During the celebrations, they danced around the bonfire, shouting their petitions so the flames would grant their wishes. During this time, the tribe refrained from long hunting expeditions, respecting the time they needed to spend in the cave by the fire and settling for whatever could be hunted nearby, such as rabbits and goats.
Good spirits reigned among them. The summers had been generous, and after gathering the harvest, everyone had full bellies and energy to enjoy themselves. Games were organized for both the young and the old, they told the most glorious tales of the year or any story that would evoke laughter. The children who had grown during the warm days hardened their spears in the bonfire and, for the first time, tasted the hunters' mead.
As night fell, most Aesir were already drunk, and some wandered around seeking available partners to spend the night with. Loki remained in his place; he could not move even if he wanted to. He was naked and bound to his master, who was finishing his last jar of mead before deciding what to do with him.
Tony threw his empty jar to the ground with a shout typical of any Aesir, then dragged Loki over, flipping him over and lifting his hips. All Loki could see was dirt and stones, which he preferred, as it helped hide his shame, though he could still hear the cheers for his master and the laughter of the other Aesir. Tony pushed into him forcefully, drawing a cry from Loki, then thrust repeatedly until he found his release, spilling his seed inside.
Loki did not resist. His body and spirit belonged to Stark, to do with as he pleased.
He awoke abruptly, scanning his surroundings with ragged breaths. He was back in Midgard, in a bed, wrapped in Tony's arms, trembling. This was not the first time he had had this nightmare; it had been recurrent during his time in Asgard, with different men claiming him as ergi before the village.
At that time, his fear had been only a shadow, not a real threat. He had fended off every advance, and as a full member of Asgard, they could not force him without punishment. But now, he had no protection. Tony could do whatever he wished with him, and from the touches he had already received, Loki knew Tony desired him.
His heart raced. Stark would make him ergi sooner or later, and Loki forced himself to think that it would not be so bad. Being ergi implied dishonor in Asgard, but they had considered him dishonorable long before that. He would merely be fulfilling what everyone had expected of him. Stark was also not a violent man; he had never struck him, even when Loki had deserved it. Perhaps Stark would not be one of those brutal men during sex. And he would keep him fed and safe; Loki would survive. Becoming ergi would not be such a high price to pay.
Yet his body continued to tremble, unable to calm down. He was afraid and found it difficult to breathe. Suddenly, he no longer wanted to be in the same bed as Tony, and he twisted to free himself. Stark awoke with a yawn and released him, allowing Loki to curl up in the furthest corner of the bed, near the wall. Tony’s eyes remained fixed on him, trying to focus in the darkness.
"Nightmare?"
Loki did not respond, and Tony rose with another yawn to bring him a bowl of water. Loki took a large sip, relaxing slightly, though his heart was still racing. He frantically shook his head when Stark pointed to the bed, signaling him to lie back down.
"Alright." Tony sighed, giving up on sleep and sitting beside him. "What is it this time?"
Loki could have denied that anything was wrong, attempted to go back to sleep, and tried not to torment himself with what the future might bring, but he had never tolerated uncertainty. He would become a bundle of fears and doubts. Perhaps if Stark told him the truth, he could prepare himself. It was always better to know.
"When will you make me ergi?"
"Ergi?" Stark blinked. "What is that?"
Loki had no word to translate it, and it was the first time he realized it. He was certain he had seen men from Midgard having sex with each other when he had observed the hunting parties in the forest, but he had never heard them referred to with a specific term.
Asgard had so many names for it: ergi, argr, rassragr, sorðinn... the list was endless, and each term emphasized how contemptible it was. He tried to describe it with the words he knew, although it was more humiliating to do so.
"Men who submit to others, who are placed on their backs up and made to bleed."
Stark rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue in distaste. Loki wondered if he had offended him, perhaps his description had sounded like a complaint, and Stark was considering him ungrateful. After all, Stark had always fed and cared for him.
"It does not sound very pleasant."
Loki felt alarm flood through his body. Yes, Stark had interpreted it as a complaint. Some ergis were forced to say thank you when the act was over or to shout the name of the one possessing them. Perhaps Stark was one of those men. Loki tried to suppress a shiver at the thought, as those men were the most brutal.
His words tumbled out in a rush, trying to correct his mistake. If he did not seem grateful, he would not only become ergi, but Tony would ensure he learned his place.
"It is pleasurable! The ergi does everything he is ordered to, or he is punished. If you are going to make me ergi, I will follow all your orders. There will be no need to punish me!"
"I am saying that it does not seem like something both of you would enjoy." And Tony emphasized the word both.
Loki blinked, confused.
"It is not supposed to matter." He said, the words painful to admit, but it was nothing more than what he had always been told. "The ergi is shameful, disloyal, willing to submit for food or protection. There is no honor in it, and he deserves no comfort."
"Oh, come on, is all of that just for a bit of sex?" Tony ran his hand over his face in frustration and then tried to change his tone. "No, Loki. I will not do anything to you that you do not want, and if we both desire it, I will always seek your pleasure as well. I have had plenty of lovers, and I do much more than put them on their backs and satisfy myself. In fact, it is much more enjoyable when your partner desires you and melts in your arms."
Tony managed to reach him and guided him back to his place in the bed, but judging by how tense Loki remained in his arms, he had not believed a word of it. Tony gathered his patience and covered them both with the blankets.
"In Midgard, there are no rules about how to have sex. Well, most of the time, the younger and less experienced is the one in the... passive role. But that does not say anything bad about them; it is not shameful. It is just sex. And I have been passive as well."
Loki’s eyes widened in surprise. Tony did not seem to be lying, and Loki was very good at detecting lies, but it could not be true. Tony was strong, brave, the leader of the most prosperous village he had ever seen. He could not have lowered himself in such a way.
"I prefer to be the active one. I enjoy it when my partner writhes beneath me with pleasure, but yes, a long time ago, I was the passive one as well. Steve, you know him, the big blond man," Tony paused, making sure Loki was following. "At the time, we hated each other, or at least I hated him. He was perfect in the most infuriating way. He was everything my father wanted in a son, and... damn, I do not know why I am talking about this, but we did not get along until Howard was buried."
"Did you enjoy it?"
Loki had said it softly, uncertain. But it was only the two of them, curled up in the silence of the night, and it was easy to hear one another.
"Yes. It is different for every person. Like I said, I prefer to be the active one, and we were drunk, so I cannot remember more than half of it, but I know it was not unpleasant, and I did not feel dishonored by it."
"Asgard would not agree."
He said it without much conviction. Asgard was wrong about many things; perhaps it was wrong about this too. Besides, he was falling asleep, as Tony had wrapped an arm around his waist and was drawing soothing circles on the skin of his stomach. Without a doubt, it was foolish of him, and he should not let his guard down around Tony, but he could not control how his body relaxed in Stark’s warmth and scent.
"The only interesting thing to come out of Asgard is you." Tony added, in a tone that did not match his usual confident demeanor. "Did you hate it? The times I touched you?"
Loki knew the answer, as much as he would have liked to lie to himself, though perhaps he could lie to Stark. He would have, if his pride had not already begun to drift into sleep.
"No, I did not hate it."
At least he avoided saying anything more.