sevenpercentsolutions:

Tony Loki by ~whodemonf

             ”It would be so easy.”

             The whispered words, accompanied by a faint glow, brought Tony Stark back to consciousness, his head ringing uncomfortably as he slowly regained his bearings.  It wasn’t until a sudden jolt in his chest sent a wave of panic through him as he sat up that he became all too aware of the presence of another body very close to his own.

             ”No, no, no, no Mr. Stark.”  The voice rustled against his ear canal again, cool, dry lips brushing his earlobe.  ”You really shouldn’t make any sudden movements like that.”

             Another jolt of pain shot through his chest, sending a cold sweat beading up on his forehead, and craning his neck to see, Tony’s breath left his lungs in a soft, pained gust of air.  ”That’s not a toy, you know.”  He fought to keep his voice level, only barely succeeding.

             ”Mmmn.”  The only response he received was a velvety hum, which thrummed against his eardrum and set goose-flesh spreading over his limbs like measles.

             ”How long?”

             ”How long, what?”  The voice very nearly purred, and Tony closed his eyes briefly before forcing himself to regain his composure.

             ”How long have you been here?  How long since…”  He trailed off, then found his voice again, “How long has it been out?”

             ”You don’t remember me?”  This time, thin lips curled against his neck, an edge of barely concealed sarcasm rippling through the words that followed.  ”I’m hurt, Mr. Stark, truly.”

             A long-fingered hand slid itself over his own where it draped limply against his hip, sending a cascade of electrical impulses down his spinal column, and fleeting memories of green eyes and flaming red hair and vodka martinis flashing behind his eyes.  ”You were…” his eyes snapped back open, “Did you-“

             ”Trick you?”  There was a soft tinkling of laughter against his throat, and Tony became aware of cool fabric against his back.  ”No, I revealed myself,” there was a pause, and craning his neck, he caught the flash of light as the arc reactor, pulled partially from its home in his chest, was twisted delicately on its wires by a slender, elegant, definitely male hand, “And you wanted me anyway.”

             As the words slid over his jawline, Tony shuddered involuntarily, the exposed wires sending another short jolt of pain through his system.  ”I hardly think your brother would approve.”  He barely managed the flippancy he was aiming for.

             There was a short bark of laughter.  ”My brother doesn’t know.”  Loki’s hand curled over the other man’s hip, sliding past his fingers and over the still undone fly on his jeans.  Pressing his lips to Tony’s throat, Loki purred as the other man reflexively tilted his head back.

             Making a small noise in the back of his throat, Tony shuddered at the rasping of his zipper pushing the rest of the way down, its teeth scraping along pale knuckles and sending shivers through his entire nervous system.  ”Put it back.”

             ”You really are concerned about that, aren’t you?”  Long fingers grazed over his inner thigh, his breath hitching in his chest.

             ”I would rather not go into cardiac arrest.”  The words escaped from between clenched teeth, and chuckling, Loki pulled on the delicate wiring attached to the other man’s chest, sending another jolt of pain through him.

             Hissing a muted exclamation, Tony dug his fingertips into Loki’s arm, but  the Asgardian only laughed.