The first thing Tony noticed was the smell, the cool-damp mustiness and Afghanistan flooded his mind, the memories tainted by time, but it was enough that Tony couldn't help that first wash of fear. It had all been a dream, hadn't it, the suit, the team, everything, and he was still here, trapped in a cave with a bucket to piss in and-and-
No. Tony blinked in the dimness, struggled to sit up. His hands were behind him and a little thoughtful struggling revealed cuffs binding his wrists, connected to the rocky wall with a long chain.
Well, this was inconvenient, wasn't it.
Kidnapped, maybe? Tony shook his head, trying to will the haziness away so he could damn well remember. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, check, hadn't been spirited away from some party or press conference then. A little judicious moving around didn't turn up any injuries, so no battle--
"So good of you to join me." A silky voice echoed around him and Tony whipped his head in that direction, narrowing his eyes at the slim figure sitting on a large rock not far away. He had his chin propped on his hand like he was relaxing on a park bench, dark hair falling around a face pale enough to gleam through the dimness.
Memory hit hard, right, fuck, he'd been on the street, of all places, just walking, and Tony hadn't been considering anything more complicated than a cup of coffee when someone had bumped into him. He'd automatically started to apologize, a muttered sorry, and then hands on his arms, green eyes, green light and a voice, that voice, "I believe you owe me a drink."
Somehow that had translated into…this? Tony looked around, taking in the cave, a faint greenish glow of light coming from a bobbing globe in one corner, like Loki had hung a little magic lamp out for them while he waited for Tony to wake up from their transport. A cave, shit, had to be a cave, didn't it, and they could be anywhere right now, didn't even have to be on Earth if Tony understood his briefings correctly.
"Yeah, well," Tony started, cleared his throat. "Sorry, I didn't realize we had an appointment today. Kinda thought you were still in Asgard getting your spankings. Got tired of being in time-out?"
Soft laughter greeted that and something in it, an edge, made Tony swallow, hard. Right, maybe not antagonize the guy too much from the start. No telling what kind of milk he'd put on his crazy-o's this morning.
"Oh, the All-Father offered me punishment, never fear," Loki stood with the careless grace of a large cat, striding up to Tony and closer he could see dark shadows lining Loki's mouth, scabbed over, were those puncture wounds around his lips?
A smile curved those scabbed, abused lips, that same smile Tony remembered from before, tainted with the echo of insanity.
"Yes, Odin pronounced judgment and they sewed my lying, dangerous mouth shut or so they said with their usual eloquence," Loki told him with studied boredom, lashes dipping low as he peered down at Tony. "As you can see, I escaped."
"Right," Tony said slowly, "Shouldn't you be off somewhere else then? You know, this is how all escaped prisoners get caught, they never know when to keep running. You should have kept going until you hit the bar at the end of the universe, would have been a better plan."
"Oh, a better plan, surely." Loki slid downward, a fluid crouch, "I simply had unfinished business to attend to."
"Revenge?" Tony scoffed, shifting on the hard stone. "We handed your ass to you and now you’re here for payback?"
"Nothing so trite—"
"Bullshit," Tony said, bluntly. "Why all this then?" He struggled up on his knees, shook his hands so the chain rattled loudly against stone. "We all beat you, we all took you down and now you're back snatching me off the street. Stinks like revenge to me. The only question I have is why start out with me?"
Loki's eyes were chilling cold, chunks of emerald ice boring into Tony. Yeah, wasn't pretending it wasn't about revenge anymore, was he? "Because," Loki whispered, low, "You're the one I could get."
Right. Yeah. That actually made perfect sense; out of all of them, Tony was the most vulnerable, the one who couldn't fight back, not Loki, not without the suit.
"Do it, then," Tony snapped. "Do it, make me pay, isn't that what you dragged me off here for? To hurt me, torture me?" he goaded, jerking hard against the cuffs, wrenching bruises into his own skin. "Come on, do it! Bring it, make me bleed, make me suffer! Do everything to me that you can't to the others. Can't touch Banner, we've already seen him do his impression of a rag doll on you, the video was great, by the way. Can't touch Steve. Barton and Natasha, maybe they're next on the list, right? Guess you need a little more planning for them."
Loki was silent but for his breathing. Quick, harsh blurts, his eyes blazing, a reddish tint bleeding into the whites and Tony couldn't stop, fuck, no, no stopping now. There was no suit, no rescue coming, and if he was gonna die it would be on his own terms.
"And Thor, well," Tony leaned back against the rocky wall. "We both know you can't touch Thor. Never could. You're nowhere close to Thor. See, I've been hanging around with him a while now and if there's one thing I've noticed? It's that he actually lives up to the word god that you guys are always throwing around and you?" Tony grinned at him, licked his lips and tasted his own sweat. "You don't."
"You claiming such does not make it so," Loki said harshly, a bare whisper.
"You're the one who makes it so," Tony countered. "I don't have a damn thing to do with it, I'm just calling it like it is. You're a little kid squalling for daddy to pay attention to you, and I get that, I do, but most of us manage to stop short at the whole mass murdering and world destruction thing."
Tony tilted his head, offering, "So come on, then. Let's see what you got. Give it to me. Give me what you can't give Thor because let me tell you, I'm as close as you're ever going to get."
Slowly, Loki moved, climbing to his feet to stand in front of Tony. He swallowed, hard, and didn't look away, kept his eyes defiant. Fuck it, if he was going to be tortured to death by the poster child for daddy issues, he was going in with his eyes open.
"Shall I?" Loki whispered, one hand reaching out and Tony forced himself not to flinch as fingers slid into his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp. He waited for pain, waited for Loki to wrench his hair out by the roots and drag the screams from him. There was nothing, only that oddly gentle touch. "Shall I give you what I can't give my brother?"
"Bring it," Tony gritted out, again, and he waited.
When it came, it was nothing like he'd prepared for. A soft touch against his mouth, scraping his lips and Tony reared back, would have protested, what the fuck was Loki doing—only the hand in his hair turned to iron, gripping painfully and held him still for scabbed lips to move over his.
Stop, Tony couldn't say, gagged by Loki's kiss, stop, this wasn't what he'd meant, this wasn't, this was so fucking wrong and a hard hand was on his chin, the grip threatening to break his jaw and he finally obeyed the bruising pressure of those fingers and opened his mouth.
Instantly a tongue swept in, just as clever as every mythology about Loki ever claimed, moving cool and slick against his own and almost, almost Tony responded. It was automatic, really it was, a mouth on his own had never been a bad thing, never in his entire life and Loki really was fucking incredible, murmuring little coaxing sounds into his mouth, persuading, cajoling.
Tony forced himself to stillness, ignored the disappointed little murmurs between them. Just breathed, slowly, deeply, through his nose while Loki licked behind his teeth.
He pulled back abruptly, glittering green eyes meeting Tony's and there was no way Tony could have kept his expression calm, no fucking way, not after that, but he wasn't about to give this bastard the satisfaction of a response. Just…no.
Again, those damaged lips split into a grin and Tony could see fresh blood shining on Loki's mouth, could taste it in his own, probably tore open the scabbed-over skin kissing him.
"I might have offered you tenderness, my brother," Loki mocked, softly, "But this is an acceptable alternative."
There was no time to respond, not that Tony had any idea what to say to that. He'd offered, hadn’t it, to let Loki treat him like he couldn't Thor but this wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind. He grunted as the stone floor was suddenly hard beneath his stomach, his cheek pressed against the rough gravel as the cuffs on his hands strained, the chain dragging his arms up awkwardly and threatening to dislocate his shoulders.
Tony tried to shift up, to ease the pressure just a little, and a hand between his shoulders stopped him, held him down, shit, fucking strong Asgardians. The chain let up and he heard Loki toss it aside, the links rattling loudly. The hand stayed though, holding him down. Tony didn't obey it at first, let Loki dig more bruises into him, only stilled when he heard the distinctive metallic slide of a blade being pulled from a sheath.
Warily, Tony subsided, let his head sink back down on his gravelly pillow and braced himself for the coming pain. This was more like he was expecting, torture, agony, his own blood spilling in bright washes of crimson. Yeah, it sucked, it was horrible and Tony figured he'd be screaming in no time, and dead hopefully not too long after, that was the plan and it was a pretty crappy plan but Tony didn't see any better options cropping up.
Cool steel touched the back of his neck and Tony held his breath, bit the inside of his lip because fuck if he was screaming on the first cut.
It never came. Instead, he choked a bit as his collar pulled tight, the t-shirt a pitiful garrote until the fabric parted at his neck with a purring tear, the knife never grazing his skin as Loki drew in downward. He was…he was cutting off Tony's shirt, plucking the slit halves open and baring skin.
Oh, Jesus. Tony closed his eyes. He'd been relieved too soon, hadn't he, been ready for torture, he'd done torture, but this, never, never, not in that dank cave in Afghanistan, not willingly or unwilling had he ever had another man's face between his shoulder blades, inhaling deeply like he was relishing the smell of cold sweat prickling out on Tony's naked skin.
"Yes, perfectly acceptable," Loki murmured into the line of Tony's spine, his tongue sliding downward, leaving a trail of spit to cool as Tony tried to arch away. His hands were a feeble barrier in the small of his back, one that Loki skirted, licking at the waistband of Tony's jeans, Christ, how long was his tongue. Rough fingers curled beneath the denim, tugging hard, baring another inch of skin and Tony bit his lip to stifle a moan as Loki bit the freshly exposed skin, a bright flash of pain that was instantly soothed by soft, kittenish licks. That gentleness, that was the horror, because Tony could feel himself getting hard, hell, he was surprised he wasn't already. Danger junky, Tony probably spend half his life with his cock stiff behind his zipper and whether he was in the suit or driving a car or rolling on a bed between pretty female legs, didn't matter.
Again, the flick of a knife and this time a tiny pain flared up, a fluid trickle over his hip and Tony thought, cringed to think, that Loki was losing patience. Couldn't be with the jeans themselves, whatever knife he was using slid through the fabric like it was warm butter. Down his thigh and calf, repeated on the other side until Loki tore them roughly away and Tony was bare.
This was actually happening. It came with the force of a slap, the realization, like a slap from Steve or Thor, or fuck, a bolt of lightning from Thor, wasn't this all about him? Thor, who wasn't here, except for he was, in a way, and Loki was licking the little cut on Tony's hip soothingly, lapping away the trickle of blood and…and more, had to be more, it hadn't bled that much, and Loki was still licking him, his hands cupping Tony's hips firmly, holding him still as he slid his clever, lying tongue down the cleft of Tony's ass.
Breath hissed out between Tony's teeth, not quite a sound, no, but he still felt Loki chuckle against him, the hot rush of his breath against his quivering hole and thumbs dug into his cheeks, parting them.
"Don't," Tony blurted, couldn't bite it back in time. Don't, Jesus, don't. He'd been rimmed before, wasn't much Tony hadn't done in bed, sweet feminine little mouths against him, timidly or confidently or nasty-eager, but never, never a man, not a lunatic demi-god laughing into him as he pushed his tongue hard against the little pucker hidden there, laving it with wet, wicked licks.
"Oh, but brother, I must," Loki murmured, his lips brushing Tony's ass as he pulled back a fraction, tracing the cleft again wetly. "My title of Silvertongue is well earned." And proved it, tongue glancing against him until it pressed in again, a little, working into his ass in swirls and flicks.
Don't, Tony's mind cried. He managed to keep it internal, tasting the warm tang of iron as his teeth dug into the inside of his mouth. Loki was breathing hard, damp blurts of breath matching the wet tongue probing into him, deeper, until Tony was shaking, quivering, fuck, Loki was tongue-fucking him with obscene eagerness, his thumbs prying Tony's asscheeks apart even wider as he fucking dove in and shoved that wet, hot, perfect tongue into him. Fucking him with his tongue, taking him, and Tony couldn't stop him. Wasn't even sure anymore if he would.
He nearly sobbed when Loki pulled back, wiping his wet mouth messily against Tony's hip and when had Tony gotten on his knees? It eased the pull of the cuffs a little, lessened the strain of his shoulders and that didn't matter at all because he was on his knees, and his legs were parted, and Loki was between them, his hands the same shade of cool as his knife as he caught Tony's hips and held them there.
"What a pretty picture you make, brother," Loki cooed, his grip tightening as Tony tried to cringe away. "I only wish I could share it so that I might savor the looks you would receive." Tomorrow he'd have handprints bruised into him, if there was a tomorrow, and Tony had been there before, that strange time-place where everything could stop in an instant. Never done it like this, never with the shockingly hot pressure of another man's cock snugged against his ass.
A man, right, Loki claimed godhood but it didn't feel like a god poised over him, smooth leather against Tony's ass along with the pressure of his dick. Probably hadn't done much more than open his pants, not for Tony, only…only he wasn't Tony, not here, was he, he was Thor, he was Loki's brother and wasn't that just his life. Couldn't even own his own rape.
"I'm not your brother," Tony rasped out, thickly, tasted salt and blood, and it didn't matter, it didn't. He just…he needed this to be about him.
Loki went still, and for a brief moment his grip on Tony's hips tightened into agony. He leaned forward, the threatening push of his dick melting away as his lips brushed Tony's ear, his breath chilling. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words."
Then there was no time, none at all, not for words or protest or pleading because Loki reared back and the head of his cock was prying at Tony's ass, pushing into him with hard, tight pushes.
"Don't fight me," Loki whispered and the pressure was awful, a hot, sick rhythm pushing against him. "Don't. You'll only hurt yourself."
God. That was nearly worse, the almost-concern, the faint break in his voice, as though Loki cared if it hurt him, as if he wasn't trying to force his dick into Tony right now. It made him clench harder, shuddering, and Loki was draped over him, moving into him with endless, terrible little thrusts.
"Relax," Loki coaxed, and he stroked a hand down Tony's back, sliding through cool sweat, pressing his thumb into the curl of Tony's fingers. "Relax. You aren't so foolish as that. Relax, you'll only make it worse."
"Can't," Tony gasped, tasting his own tears, streaking from his eyes helplessly. "I can't, you can't, don't—"
"I can," Loki whispered it to him, like a secret he was sharing. "I can, I am, I'm going to take you, Tony Stark. Relax."
His name, crooned to him in that smooth, sweet voice and Tony drew in a hard breath, let it out, and forced himself to relax. And nearly choked as Loki pushed inside him, forcing out his breath as he forced his way into Tony's body, taking each inch the moment it was offered. Easing the hot, huge-- fucking huge, it felt so—length inward, cramming it inside until Tony was biting back whimpers, God, too much, too too much.
Loki's cock was as deep inside of him as it could go, Loki's hips grinding against his ass, leather abrading his skin, and it was too much, the sensation, splitting him open. He could feel the heavy weight of it in him, felt Loki shaking, trembling behind him, his breath coming in jagged gasps.
Affected, too, of course he would be, why wouldn't he be? It was his cock in Tony, he was hard and inside him, deep inside, his hips moving in little thrusts that Tony recognized, helpless little movements, sex-dumb shifting that Loki couldn't stop because it felt good. Dimly, he wondered how it must feel to Loki, the tightness of Tony's ass, unused to this. Never been fucked, a virgin offering to a god and he nearly giggled aloud, tasted hysteria in the back of his mind.
Loki was startlingly heavy, pinning Tony down and the slow, unsteady rock of his hips pulled Tony across the uneven ground, abraded his cheek where it was resting against the gravel. Tony whimpered, unwillingly, the ache in his ass was easing and the scrape of his cheek was a distraction. He almost didn't feel the cuffs loosening from his numb hands, not until Loki tugged him up on his knees, forcing him to sink down into his lap and Christ, deep, there was no stifling the moans now.
His arms felt stupid and deadened, hanging useless as Loki mouthed kisses into his neck, tasted his sweat, a low, throbbing rhythm of groans slipping free as Loki thrust up into him, drawing out further each time even as Tony hissed, the aching emptiness only worsened the return push. A rhythm, yeah, a horrible song of pleasure that matched his hips and it still hurt, still felt like it was splitting him open but it hurt less. Hurt was fading under the more familiar sensation of rising heat, of pleasure. It felt good, felt like sex and Tony's body knew sex.
Loki was muttering against his neck, a language that Tony didn't even try to understand. Rolling his hips up, arms sliding around Tony, holding him, moving him, sex, this was sex like Tony had never felt it. A cool, shockingly cool hand trailed down between his legs, slender fingers at his balls and then further back, pressing back where they were joined.
"Oh," Tony whined, helplessly, Christ, he could be allowed that much, couldn't he? On his knees in a fucking cave while his…not his…nemesis was fucking him, and the hard pressure of his cock grinding into Tony sent out confusing flashes of pain/pleasure, good/awful, wrong/wrong/wrong/heat/wrong into him, but the clever hands playing between his legs, circling his dick, cupping his balls, that was nothing but pure pleasure.
The sounds against Tony's ear were getting lower, more desperate, more, everything, Loki hissing out his pleasure like a snake, and the rhythm of his hips stuttered, hesitated, pushing up into Tony hard and fuck, oh, fucking God, he could feel Loki coming in him, startlingly hot in contrast to the coolness of his skin, obscenely hot and wet in him, and the hand on his dick went quick-quick-brutal, dragging Tony along for the ride and he jerked as he came, spilled his own come over Loki's fingers and the dirt beneath his knees.
The light behind his eyes was still molten red when Tony realized he was sagging back against Loki, clutching the arms around him with his unbound hands. Right, Loki had taken the cuffs off and he was still inside Tony, cock softening but still there, and his hand, wet with come, slid upward to grip Tony's throat.
"Here is when I kill you, isn't it?" Low in his ear and Tony swallowed, felt the bob of his Adam's apple against Loki's palm. "I believe I know this tale. You've nobly sacrificed yourself for your friends and now I shall rip out your throat and leave your body for them to find, is that how it goes?"
Tony only leaned back against him apathetically. Was that the story? He wasn't sure he remembered anymore. He could feel the tickle of fluid trailing down the inside of his legs, semen, maybe blood. Probably not, his ass ached but not terribly.
"You avenge, your little team," Loki breathed it into him, words squirming into Tony's head like so many worms. "They take your pathetic, broken form, bury this cold meat and they avenge."
Maybe. Maybe that's how it went. Tony didn't open his eyes, imagined Steve finding him like this, eyes unseeing, the puddle of his blood tacky-dry where it had spilled from his throat. Imagined Bruce and the anger, the uncontrolled monster springing forth because of Tony, imagined Clint's tight face, Natasha's cool silence, imagined…no. He didn't want to imagine Thor just now. Would they autopsy him, Tony wondered, pull the arc reactor from his chest, no way in hell they'd bury him with that. Cut him open in a much more visceral fashion than Loki had and find out what mysteries his body had to tell.
Tony imagined it, imagined all of it, and thought maybe he was in shock.
"I think I prefer another story," Loki moved, his hand drifting down and Tony fell away from him as Loki shoved lightly, sprawling on the floor. A wash of brilliant green light flared even through his closed eyelids and Tony blinked, found himself dressed in the same clothes. Clean and turned out, no sign at all…he grimaced as he turned over to sit, a warning throb of pain deep inside. Yeah, well, there was that, wasn't there.
Loki was standing over him, arms crossed over his chest and that smile still lingered on his damaged mouth. And his eyes, Jesus. Had he ever thought those eyes were cold? The heat in them now rivaled what Tony's atheist mind still insisted on calling Hell.
"Perhaps we'll meet again, Tony Stark," Loki said, lightly, and Tony didn't flinch when he crouched suddenly, past flinching and cringing. He sat there when Loki slid their mouths together, parted his lips and when a tongue touched his own, Tony reached up and snatched a handful of hair, yanked him in and swallowed away Loki's sound of surprise.
Nothing so gentle as a kiss, a brutal meeting of blood-flavored mouths and it was Loki who broke away, staggered back and blinked at Tony with startled eyes.
"See you around, brother," Tony rasped out and Loki vanished, a trickle of blood still running wet from his lip.
Tony sat there a little longer in the dark, gathering, well, fuck, he was kind of out of wits. He gathered what he could anyway then staggered to his feet, heading for the little bit of light that he could see. There was a shine of sunlight not too far away and he was halfway to it when Tony realized he could feel a comforting weight in his pocket, a cell phone. Relief hit him with giddy abruptness and he had four bars when he stumbled out into the light, more than enough to call home.