After a day of arguing with Fury (he didn't need permission from him to deal with problems in south Asia, this wasn't grade school), trying to convince the board of directors that they should be spending more resources on their satellite program (maybe there weren't huge profits in it now, but why was no one else capable of looking towards the future?), and training with Cap in hand to hand combat, all Tony wanted to do was get blissfully drunk and tinker on the beta particle generator he was trying to incorporate into the armor.
But then Loki had showed up in the middle of him pouring himself some bourbon. How he escaped the detection of Jarvis, he had no idea. Fucking magic.
"Want a drink?"
"So considerate. But no thank you."
Tony downed his shot and pondered his odds of survival if he tried to get to his armor. They weren't great. He turned to face Loki, who was still sporting a nasty cut near his hairline that he'd had since he'd first shown up. None of the Avengers had come close to leaving a scratch on him so far. Tony didn't particular want to meet whatever it was that had managed it.
"It's cheating to kill me without my armor, you know. Brings great shame and dishonor to your family - wait, do frost giants even care about that?"
"Yes, well," Loki said with a placid smile, "God of mischief. I think I may be the exception."
"Thor's gonna be pissed. We're totally bros now. I bought him a whole distillery of whiskey kegs, he said they're almost as good as honeyed Asgardian Mead."
Antagonizing a half crazed god from another planet didn't exactly increase his odds of surviving the encounter, but he just couldn't help himself.
"Then I suppose it is a good thing he is no longer a threat," Loki said icily as he sauntered closer, leaning against the other end of the bar and peeking at the long line of bottles.
"He did win round one," Tony pointed out, drifting forward a bit, and this close he could see a dull bruise still lingering at the corner of Loki's eye. Another scrape near his hairline. The guy looked like he could be the poster boy for some kind of battered man's shelter. Tony curiously stretched his arm out and his fingers followed Loki's head as he flinched away, grazing the skin under the worst of his cuts. "But then you leveled up. Somehow."
The implication was lost in the brief moments after when Loki didn't remove his hand with some kind of dismemberment spell, but actually leaned into the touch. Loki's eyes were wide, surprised more than panicked, and Tony's heart was in his throat because he couldn't tell if he was fucking with him or not and he really wanted his armor right now. But against his better judgement, he kept his hand there, and traced his fingers lightly down towards Loki's jaw.
Loki actually shivered. Shivered. And Tony knew he couldn't be cold, because Jarvis kept every room at a perfect 73 degrees.
Any second he was going to come back to his senses and maim him. Any second. But maybe if he could distract him...
Tony curled his fingers, knuckles pressing against Loki's cheek, and made small circles with his thumb on the skin under Loki's ear. When Loki's eyes fluttered shut, there was no doubt in his mind that he was messing with his head. He paused. No one could be that susceptible to touch. Especially a super villain.
"Stop and I will kill you," Loki said in a soft voice.
Or maybe they could.
"Uh," Tony said very articulately and awkwardly stroked Loki's face. It was a nice face, when it wasn't attached to a person trying to murder him, and somehow the combination of threat of imminent death and touching an attractive person was starting to make him hard and god, sometimes it sucked being such a whore.
Loki's eyes shut, dark lashes stark against pale skin, and a soft noise came from the back of his throat as Tony's hand wandered down towards his neck. He curled his hand around the back of his neck and gently pulled Loki closer, amazed he had enough blood in his body for his heart to be beating so fast and for his dick to be so hard. Loki swayed closer as Tony massaged the back of his neck, and oh god he was way too close, he was going to open his eyes and murder him any second.
"Wait," Tony said, squirming away and grabbing the open bottle next to him, "I think I have to be over the legal limit to do this or Fury will kill me." He took an impressive swig, a wave of warmth washing over him. "He'll probably kill me anyway. Take your helmet off."
Loki's eyebrows were arched in a prissy sort of skeptical way, but his eyes were still hazy. Fuck it. Maybe he could end the whole conflict with Loki right now with some expert cuddling. Tony grabbed at Loki's helmet himself, nearly dropping it on the floor - he hadn't expected it to be so heavy. There was a loud clunk as he set it on the bar. Loki was starting to glare. Shit, he was so dead.
"Here," Tony desperately grabbed Loki's arm with one hand and the still open bottle with another, "Sofa." He guided them over to the plush couch and all but threw Loki into one of the seats, taking another swallow of bourbon before settling down next to him. He tried to pull Loki down towards his lap, but he wasn't being very cooperative.
"Stark," Loki growled, "What are you doing?"
"You'll like it, I swear. Just relax." He tried to take his own advice as Loki begrudgingly let himself be manhandled into a semi-comfortable position resting against Tony's thigh, his long legs bent at the knees to fit on the sofa. Tony ran his hands through Loki's black hair, fingers making trails from the top of his scalp to the back of his neck and back again. He could've sworn Loki actually purred, and this was not making his cock any less hard.
"Be quiet," Loki said blissfully.
Tony shut up and continued to stroke Loki like a pet cat, counting down the hours until Pepper would get home and rescue him.