There weren’t a whole lot of things that could phase him after falling through a black hole, but this mortal was quickly proving to be one of them. Appearing in the work shop was often amusing, as well as occasionally a hazard to his health, though rarely was it both. Standing within the blind spot of the cameras, he could feel his eyebrows attempting to merge with his hairline.
“…A little bit of Mary all night long~
A little bit of Jessica here I am~
A little bit of you makes me your man~!”
Right on cue, Stark spun around, still singing and dancing to the music playing at its usual high volume. He choked and almost fell over as he caught sight of the god, though, while Loki smirked in response and began moving towards him, picking up where Stark left off.
“I do all to fall in love with a girl like you.
Cause you can’t run and you can’t hide,
You and me gonna touch the sky~”
He didn’t think he’d ever seen the mortal so shocked, but it was a good look on him. It also kept him from trying to escape as Loki trapped him against the work bench, an arm on either side of him as he leered down at the other man. The song ended, the next one starting almost instantly.
The first lines of “Bad Romance” started playing and Loki went from about to ravish the engineer to pressing his face to Stark’s shoulder to muffle his startled laughter. He was never going to be able to take the man seriously again, not after this strange playlist had come to light. Though he didn’t doubt the mortal’s own thoughts on his seriousness, he’d just relieve him of any notions of not taking the God of Mischief seriously the next time they met in battle.
“Fucking- J.A.R.V.I.S., shut that off!” He sounded more flustered than the god had ever heard him, and he took the shove at his shoulders good-naturedly, falling into one of Stark’s chairs as he grinned.
“Of course, sir.” The accented, disembodied voice had ceased causing Loki to jump, though the snarkiness of the comment made him snicker again. He’d actually become rather attached to the A.I., though he still didn’t fully understand the concept of “artificial” intelligence. He was working on it, but it would seem that Stark was the only one who had managed to create such a self-sustaining system, and he was rather tight lipped on the subject. Not to mention that anything he read on the subject usually led back to said man, which made him think of all the things he’d rather be doing.
Progress had, understandably, been very slow.
Stark had gone off on some interrogation as to why he insisted on popping up behind him and scaring him out of his mind -or, alternatively, catching him doing something embarrassing- while he was thinking. Not wanting to have to pretend he’d been paying any amount of attention, he interrupted his rant by dragging him down into his lap, one arm locked around his waist with his hand on the other’s hip, the other resting on his thigh.
He gave the man’s neck a sharp-toothed nip to keep him from protesting, squeezing his thigh slightly when he hissed at the unexpected pain.
“Simple boredom, Anthony, I assure you.” He continued nipping up the column of the mortal’s throat, smirking at the slightly hitched breathing he was rewarded with, “And you, my dear, are never boring.”
The breathless chuckle his comment earned was cut off as he pressed his mouth to the other’s.