Chapter Text
Tony was breathing softly beside him. It had been a titanic task to drag him to bed after the day’s events, as the man was exhilarated by his latest discovery and insisted on continuing his work, even though the daylight had long since faded.
When Loki finally managed to get Stark into bed, he thought he would be able to enjoy the warmth of his body and sleep peacefully. Instead, an endless monologue followed about the properties the new element might possess and the possibilities that could be explored. Loki wished he could cut off his ears to get some silence, but he was certain that even then, Tony would find a way to make himself heard.
And then, as if it were some cruel joke, Tony fell asleep. Effortlessly. Barely a second after closing his eyes. Meanwhile, Loki realized that he was wide awake and would not be able to sleep anytime soon. He propped himself up halfway, supporting his weight on one arm, watching Stark’s chest rise and fall gently. He should smother him. If not for the fact that his life with Tony was more comfortable than it would be on his own, he would have done it. Only that, and the fact that he was too tired to come up with a good alibi for his murder, stopped him.
Perhaps waking him would be sufficient revenge? After all, Tony was the only reason he could not sleep. He placed a hand on Tony’s chest but did not move it. He merely left it there, over the scar that ran across it, letting it rise and fall with each breath.
Why did this man unsettle his entire being? Why did he make him act in ways in which he could not recognize himself? Stark had been a mystery from the first day he saw him, but Loki had believed him to be a mystery that would only need time to be solved, like all the others. So why, as time passed, did he seem to grow even more complicated? Every time Loki found the solution to one question, something new would emerge. New shapes and variants would be added to the image he had constructed of him until he seemed much larger than he ever imagined in the beginning.
Damn infuriating man.
He kept watching him for a while longer until his gaze lingered too long on his pants. A bulge was forming there, not as large as he knew it could become when Tony climbed on top of him to touch and kiss him, but it was a good start.
And there was a fact. Until now, it had always been Tony who touched him. Loki could not lie to himself and say he had not enjoyed it, but he had never been an active participant, and, to his shame, he could not attribute it to pride. The only, embarrassing reason was that he had allowed himself to melt under Tony’s hands every time, unable to gather enough control to respond.
But this time, Loki decided it would be different. This time, he would take control. He wanted to know what it felt like to be the one who touched and made the other squirm before being pinned down again by Stark. Taking a deep breath to gather his courage, he slid a hand inside Tony’s pants, stroking the length hidden within.
Stark’s penis reacted, hardening more with each passing second that Loki held it in his hand. His breathing became more irregular, his cheeks took on a flush, and Tony had to open his mouth to catch air. Loki was fascinated, and the pace of his hand quickened. He wanted Stark to writhe until he lost control and spilled in his hand, just as he had done to him, but before it happened, Tony opened his eyes.
There was a brief moment of confusion reflected in his brown irises, but it took him far less time to react than it did Loki. Tony grabbed him by the waist and pulled him onto his lap, where he quickly entwined their tongues, eliciting only a frustrated moan from the aesir.
“Wait.” Tony said, rising from the bed with the energy of someone who had not just been asleep moments before. “I brought something from the kitchen.”
He returned with a bowl full of grease. Loki wrinkled his nose at the sight, knowing very well what it was used for. In Asgard, men often coated their shafts with animal fat to prevent chafing when they had no better place to put them. It worked, but it left a repugnant odor, and he had never appreciated the sticky feeling.
“Hey, do not make that face. It is going to feel much better, trust me.”
Loki sighed but did not protest. He did not want Tony to stop, so he allowed him to smear their lengths with the substance, then take both in his hand, rubbing them together. The friction was exquisite, with just the right amount of pressure to make Loki bury his head into the crook of Tony’s neck and begin moaning uncontrollably.
A growl interrupted them, and before either of them could react, Tony was knocked off the bed as a dog appeared, covering Loki with its body while baring its teeth at Stark.
Fenrir was no longer a puppy, having almost reached the height of Stark’s dogs, and he seemed to be growing even more menacing by the day. Jarvis entered right after, moving with lightning speed to position himself in front of Tony, growling at Fenrir with equal ferocity.
Both dogs faced off, refusing to back down or break eye contact as they stood their ground, protecting their masters. The tension was so palpable it seemed like the slightest signal would cause them to lunge at each other, teeth bared. Loki hurried to wrap his arms around Fenrir’s neck, petting him vigorously while whispering soothing words that finally made the growling cease.
“Calm down, he was not hurting me. Shh, calm down.”
Jarvis relaxed as soon as Fenrir did, licking Tony’s face, who grumbled and pushed him aside before standing up and walking toward the post.
“What are you going to do?” There was anxiety in Loki’s voice, as Tony did not often lose his temper, but it was unpleasant when he did.
Tony grabbed the rope that had bound Loki in the previous days, looped it around Fenrir’s neck, and began pulling the animal toward the door.
“Bad dogs sleep outside.”
“He is not...! He was only protecting me!”
Stark scoffed but did not loosen his grip on the leash.
“We are not going to spoil a dog. Have you forgotten how terrified you were of them? What if next time he bites you or a child who gets too close?”
“He will not! He is just a puppy! He has never spent a night outside!”
Loki threw himself to the ground, clinging tightly to Fenrir, determined not to let Tony drag him out. With every pull, Stark’s patience wore thinner.
“Do you want to spend the night outside, tied up with him?”
“You would do it, would you not?!”
Loki glared at him, nostrils flaring and jaw clenched. Stark let out a frustrated growl as he tried to separate the man from the dog.
It took several scratches, one leaving a bloody mark under his eye, and a sharp elbow to the stomach, but eventually, Loki was tossed onto the bed like a sack, and Fenrir was dragged outside, whimpering.
When Tony returned to bed, Loki scooted as far as he could toward the wall, making sure not to touch him. From there, they could both hear Fenrir’s pitiful howls, begging to be let back inside.
“You know, it is just a dog sleeping outside, I have not hurt him.” Tony muttered, waiting for a response while staring at Loki’s back, but none came. “Jarvis sleeps outside most of the time.”
This time, he heard a snort, but no words followed.
“Fine! Have it your way.” He grumbled, turning over to try and sleep as well. This time, it was not so easy.