"Loki, please come out of the bathroom."
Tony had been leaning up against the bathroom door now for at least three hours. He was more than a little worried about the man inside, who'd panicked suddenly in the middle of a particularly intense sex session and fled the bedroom to the closest possible sanctuary without so much as a word why.
"Please? Come on. We can talk about this."
"I ... I can't," came the wavering voice from inside for what felt like the thousandth time.
"I know, I heard the first 99 times. Why not?"
"Please, Tony," Loki whispers, barely audible through the door. "Please, just let me be."
"It's been hours, babe." He'd spent the first thirty minutes trying to coax Loki out, but left him alone, listening to the soft sounds of Loki moving around the bathroom, doing God knows what, muttering to himself, growling in frustration. Tony swore he'd broken something, throwing it against the wall or punching it, he couldn't tell. JARVIS had offered to look in on Loki, but he'd refused, trying to give Loki his space. He'd slowly been getting more and more worried, and had finally snapped twenty minutes before, trying again to talk to Loki. "I want to see you. I need to know you're okay. Talk to me. Let me know what you're going through. Please." Tony shifts against the door, leaning his head back against the wood. "Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?"
"I already answered this question. You would know." Loki almost sounds bitter. "It's a desperately personal problem, and you must allow me to fix this on my own."
"Why do you have to fix it alone? Why can't I help you?" He hates to admit it, but he's a little frustrated. Since Loki had decided to stay by Tony's side, come hell or high water, he'd been slowly closing himself off from Tony, a little bit at a time. It was like the idea of open, sustained intimacy scared him so terribly that he couldn't help but lock himself up, keep Tony from seeing those little flashes of himself that he'd let slip now and again during their months-long series of trysts.
It was more than a little frustrating. It was incredibly frustrating, but if Tony knew anything over years of basically creating new tech out of thin air, it was that patience went a hell of a long way. This was especially true with Loki, who had a long history of pain and unhappiness that he'd yet to share en masse with his lover. Tony was desperate to help.
"Loki, c'mon." This was more than he'd gotten over the past few hours, and he would be damned if he didn't run with it. "I want to help."
"..I don't want you to be afraid of me," Loki finally relented, his voice sad, scared.
He has to bite back a laugh. "You can't be serious. Really?"
"Yes," Loki reasserts, and he sounds a little miffed. "I've told you in passing before of my true nature, have I not?"
Tony pauses. "Wait, the Jotun thing?"
"Yes," Loki replies sadly.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Everything. It's everything." There's a brief pause as Loki struggles with whether or not he should elaborate. "...When my - when the Allfather found me, he placed some form of magic upon me. It buries the traits of a Jotun beneath the skin of an Asgardian. My appearance, in truth, is entirely different-"
"And you've changed back somehow."
"...Yes. I don't... I don't know how to replace the magic. It's never come off of its own free will before - normally, I must first interact with a Jotun's magic, or with the Casket they kept that now lies, captive, in the bowels of the House of Odin."
"So, what you're saying is, you're sitting in my bathroom, totally naked and full-on Jotun."
"Not- not entirely. Years of his magic and living in Asgard twisted me. I no longer possess the true power of neither Asgard, nor of Jotunheim. I am something else entirely." Loki sounds so lost, hurt, bitter- and disgusted. Truly, utterly disgusted. There's so much self-loathing in his voice that it makes Tony hurt. He knows what it's like, to hate everything about himself. He knows how it feels to be truly alone.
"Come out here."
"No," Loki protests, and his voice sounds panicked. "I can't. You must not see me like this."
"Why not?" Tony replies automatically, combative. "Seriously. Is there a better reason than 'you'll hate me', because after everything we've been through up until now, you haven't given me a good reason yet."
"Tony," Loki mutters, exasperated.
"You tried to destroy my home. You tried to take over my world. That's not exactly the kind of thing most people just forgive." Tony shifts, stands. "Please, Loki. Come on. Give me a chance. I can promise you, you won't terrify or disgust me."
"You've never even seen a Jotun," Loki replies bitterly.
"So pop my Jotun cherry."
"You are obscene." He can hear the hint of a smirk in Loki's voice, and breathes a sigh of relief.
"But I get the job done, right? Come out here, babe. Please?"
The silence that greets him stretches on for so long that he honestly panics momentarily, worrying Loki's done his magic disappearing trick, but he's rewarded for his patience with a timid turning of the handle. Tony shuffles back, perching on the edge of the bed.
The door opens slowly, and Loki waits until there's literally no way to hide behind it to step forward and out of the bathroom. He's entirely the picture of shyness, which amuses Tony briefly - Loki was anything but shy or timid, especially around Tony and especially naked - but all thought is erased from his head as he fully takes in the physical change of his lover.
"Sapphire" seems too dull a word to describe the stunning shades of blue that his skin has become. Dapples of lighter blues mark his lips and palms, darker blues accentuate his figure, becoming darker at his joints and behind his eyes. And God, his eyes, shimmering and red, sharp against the blue of his skin.
"Woah," Tony breathes, and Loki shrinks, back towards the door again. "No, no no," he backtracks as quickly as he can, and stands, propelling himself off the bed and towards Loki in one quick step. He pauses, right before his lover, and his hands hover over Loki's arms. Closer, he can see the ridges in Loki's skin: his forehead, his face, his neck, his shoulders and chest, down his arms and legs. He notices the full beauty of the way Loki's eyes almost glow. He reaches, slowly, to run his fingertips over those on Loki's shoulder, but pauses. "You flinched."
"I've never been touched, in this form." His voice is shaking and terrified, barely above a whisper. It makes Tony's chest ache for a moment. "This is the form of the monsters Asgardians slaughter without a second thought. This is the creature that scares their children into sleepless nights, that terrorizes their people at every corner, that they are taught at every stage of their lives deserves to die at their hands."
"If you want me to stop, I can," Tony replies, trying to sound as gentle as he can. He starts to pull his hand away but Loki snatches his wrist, holding him steady. "I know this is huge for you, and I don't want to make anything worse. I want you comfortable around me, baby."
"You're shaking." Tony slightly tugs his hand back, but not enough to break the grip on him - not that he could, if Loki didn't want him to.
"What do I look like?" Loki breathes, his bright red eyes staring into Tony's as hard as he can. There's desperation, there, but a kind of hunger, too. "How do you see me? What do you see before you?"
Am I a monster? he's asking, and Tony can hear the underlying question, see it in his eyes.
"Babe," he murmurs, trying a half-smile. "If I go into detail, we could be standing here all night."
"I don't care," Loki hisses, his voice raising in volume and intensity, and he grips Tony's wrist tighter. "I need this. I need to hear you tell me how you see me."
"Careful, tiger," Tony replies, his arm twitching, Loki's fingers suddenly wickedly cold on his skin. "Just ...relax."
"You don't lie to me. You've never lied to me," Loki breathes, and he slowly releases Tony's wrist, eyeing it for a moment. "You are the only person whose opinion matters to me. I need to know what it is, whatever it may be."
"Okay, okay. You..." Tony looks him over again, lightly placing his hands on Loki's shoulders, his eyes snapping to Loki's. "You are, without a doubt, the single most attractive being I have ever encountered."
"Even like this?" Loki murmurs.
"Yes," Tony breathes, his fingertips sliding over Loki's collarbone. "Is this okay?"
"Keep talking," Loki replies, and Tony notices his shaking is beginning to cease, ever so slowly.
"I've never seen anything like this before. It's ..." don't say weird, don't say weird "..out of the ordinary, but that doesn't make it bad. Wow, I'm sorry. I sound like a freaking after-school special." Tony laughs, and Loki cocks his head, curious.
"Never mind - look. I don't know how many times I have to say it, bu-"
"But you prefer me for who I am, yes, I understand that," Loki interrupts. "That's a beautiful sentiment, Anthony, but that is not what I'm looking for."
"You know I hate it when you call me that," Tony grumbles, but Loki ignores him.
"I need to be worshipped. I need you to show me." Loki swallows. "Call me your king. Call me your god. Show me what you cannot say in words."
"You sure?" Tony asks quietly, looking up into his eyes.
"Yes," comes the whispered reply. "I need to feel your reaction. You cannot fake an attraction; you've never been able to touch me when you cannot stand to, no matter how I try to coerce it from you. If your heart is not devoted to it, you simply cannot perform." Loki meets his eyes. "Show me what you see."
Show me your love is the implied meaning.
Not once have either of them said a thing about love, in all the time they've been together, in whatever this little relationship was. Love was complicated, more so than they already were. Love implied something that could be broken, lost, stolen or forgotten. Love was a word both men avoided like the plague. Love meant surrender. Love erased all the exits. Love was unattainable and unknown to either of them, but in rare cases. It wasn't something they owned, or admitted to, or ever considered. Love was foreign and complex and terrifying. Admitting love meant cementing something into place that could not be retrieved and removed, and though both men were loath to leave each others' sides or consider the idea of separating, love was still a variable that was not allowed to enter into the equation.
Instead, they stuck to simple terms, words that could be parlayed about, tasted and whispered and demanded. Things like need, want, lust, control, worship, devotion. Tony could worship Loki. Loki could devote himself to Tony. They could control each other. These were things they could barter and trade, things they could switch at will.
They were partners in an agreement. They were lovers simply for lack of a better word. That was their relationship, and they each preferred to keep the more complex ideas and considerations off the table. It was all complicated enough, as it was. It didn't need the help.
But Tony knew, hidden away, deep within, that all he knew to give Loki was love, and if Loki wanted it in a physical manner, by God Tony would deliver, and how.
He stares at Loki for a long moment, craning his head up to kiss him deeply. Loki wasn't too much taller than Tony, but it was a noticeable difference; at times, it was difficult to position themselves, Loki's long, thin legs tangling up with his own, but Tony kind of liked the switch. He'd never had a lover before that stood above him more than an inch or two, and it was fun to figure out the particulars of courting a person almost a full foot taller than himself, though it meant he wasn't able to sweep Loki up off the floor and carry him to the bed.
Instead, Tony chooses to gracefully lead Loki towards the bed, his hand at the small of Loki's back, their eyes locked. The ridges slide over his hips and down his legs, Tony notices, and he briefly feels them under his hands. That is so cool.
Slowly, Tony lays Loki down on the rumpled silken sheets, smoothing the cloth out around Loki's body as he crawls over the man, pausing for another deep kiss. Tony's knees are straddling Loki's body, and he leans up on them, running his fingertips down the ridges on his face, jaw, neck. He brushes Loki's pronounced collarbone as he leans down again, softly placing his lips at the edge of Loki's jaw. He's rewarded with a soft moan, and smiles just slightly against his lover’s skin, trailing lips down his neck, pausing now and again for a soft kiss or a slight nip.
"Your skin is a little ... harder," Tony murmurs, grappling momentarily for a better word and coming up blank. “Tougher. Not as pliant. Not, like, rock, or anything, but-”
"Not exactly the best commentary," Loki replies, his voice slightly exasperated.
"Sorry." Tony laughs. "Just noticing every little thing I can. I have the feeling this is going to be a rare occurrence."
"Shh," Loki replies, putting a finger to his lips, a slightly annoyed look on his face. "You were in the middle of something. Don't get distracted."
Tony rolls his eyes playfully. He can tell Loki’s still on edge; his body is stiff and nervous, and Tony wonders briefly if he should do this. If Loki really wants it. The conviction in his voice - Show me. - fills Tony’s head again, and he pushes the thoughts away. “You’ll tell me if you want me to stop?“
“Yes,“ Loki replies, annoyed. “Haven’t I always?“
Tony leans down and nips Loki's neck just a little harder than normal. Loki's annoyed gasp of surprise makes him grin again, and he kisses the spot, as if to apologize. "Right, okay then. If you insist," he murmurs against the man's neck. "Now, where was I.."
He moves agonizingly slow over Loki's body, sparing nothing on every inch of skin he touches. His hands glide down Loki's chest, thumbs drawing lazy circles around Loki's nipples, which harden under his touch, Loki arching up into him just slightly. His mouth nips, kisses and licks down Loki's neck, alternating whenever he believes one technique, the other, or a combination of them will do the most damage. Now and again, Tony licks a line on his skin, assaulting the spot with his hot breath until Loki makes a noise, body jerking.
"Your skin is colder," Tony mutters into his collarbone, his hands teasing the slight pricks of Loki's hip bones.
"Frost giant," Loki snaps irritably. "Commentary?"
Tony slides his legs between Loki's, his new position affording him the ability to assault Loki's midsection and hips with his mouth. He leans up enough to suck lazily at Loki's nipple, nipping at it slightly, and Loki yelps.
"Sorry. Did I bite you too hard?"
"No, I... didn't expect it," Loki replies breathlessly, his hands clutching at the sheets. His body is still tense, but the focus is shifting to less nerves and more arousal. Tony relaxes slightly, doubling his ministrations, allowing himself to fully enjoy the feeling of Loki‘s skin against his lips. “You are torturing me."
Tony grins. "From what I can tell, your body is ...harder, as a whole, but.. Wow, that sounds terrible. ‘Your body is harder.‘ There has got to be a better word for that."
"But," Loki snaps.
"Right. But, the places that were sensitive before are much more now."
"Commentary. It is neither appreciated nor is it necessary."
"I must really be getting to you, huh."
Loki snaps his head up, his lanky black hair sliding down his forehead and in his face, and glares at Tony, who grins deviously. "Please," he hisses. "Could you kindly return to the task at hand?"
Tony holds his hands up in apology, leaning down and kissing Loki's chest. Loki moans, the sound more like a snarl of desperation, his head falling back again, his hips thrusting up impatiently.
"Sorry, baby," he whispers, his hands returning to Loki's chest. "I just get distracted by your body."
Slowly, tantalizingly so, Tony traces the ridges on Loki's body, up and down his chest and hips. He touches the scar left from Widow's attack, a full two months ago. It seemed so long ago, now. He pauses there for a moment, long enough to cause Loki to whine slightly. “Tony!”
Tony moves on, muttering an apology and repeating his light touches over the ridges and sensitive spots on Loki's body: his nipples, the bottom of his ribcage, down his midsection, over his hip bones. Every stretch of skin is one Tony knows almost better than all of his own, having worshipped this man both in bed and otherwise for God knows how long now (he certainly wasn't keeping track; year or so, maybe?), and he enjoys the moans that trip over Loki's lips as he gives every bit the attention it deserves; he delights in the shivers that rake his lover’s body now and again, complete with shuddering breaths.
"Perfect," Tony whispers, and he can't tell if Loki heard him, but he's so enamored, so engrossed in his work, that he doesn't look up to see Loki staring at him, red eyes mere slits, his upper body tensed as he clings to the sheets, listening to every word. "Absolutely perfect."
Tony half-straightens himself where he kneels, curling instead over his lover's body, to his half-hard cock. He kisses the head softly, and Loki moans, his head falling back again, his hips jerking up slightly.
"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" Tony murmurs, his fingers teasing the base of Loki's cock, up the shaft and down again, cupping his balls and squeezing them just so, exactly the way he knows drives his lover insane. Loki moans again, the sound deep in his throat, making it an almost guttural, animalistic growl. "God, I love that sound."
Loki’s body begins to react, his cock hardening in Tony's hands, and he grins. "Please," Loki whispers.
"I don't think you understand how perfect you look to me," Tony replies, and takes the head of Loki's cock in his mouth, sucking at it gently as one hand squeezes the base, lightly massaging his balls. Loki can't reply, a sharp gasp leaving him instead as he arches his back, hands pulling at the sheets. One of Tony's hands reaches up Loki's body, resting on his stomach, while the other continues lightly squeezing and caressing him, matching the timing of Tony's mouth as it slides, ever slowly, up and down over the head. "I don't think you can possibly comprehend how stunning you are," he whispers, blowing a cool stream of air onto the tip of Loki's cock.
"Oh," Loki intones quietly, his voice a growl.
"I wish I could show you." Tony licks at the slit, tasting him, his eyes snapping up to Loki's face, meeting his eyes. His face is the very picture of desperate desire: eyes half-open, lips parted, his expression almost sad in need. "I wish I could make you understand just how gorgeous you are." He slides his tongue up Loki's shaft, flicking it against the sensitive underside of the head of his cock, which wins him another sharp gasp.
"Oh," Loki repeats, his voice a little louder.
"I wish I could make you see yourself as I see you," Tony continues before running his tongue over the left side of the head, swirling his tongue over the tip and repeating on the other side, one hand simultaneously pumping at the base of his cock, the other drawing lightly down Loki's body with his nails. "I wish I could make you experience the way you make me feel."
"Tony," Loki moans, his voice raising an octave, his hips thrusting up as Tony takes him in his mouth again, running his tongue over the sensitive spot hiding at the bottom of the head once, twice, three times. "Oh.."
"I need you to realize you are the most important thing in my life right now," Tony murmurs, his eyes meeting Loki's again before his head falls back, hips thrusting up. His body is flushed, his skin a darker blue than before, his face so dark it almost appears black, and Tony takes a second to appreciate the exquisite vision of Loki's dark, gorgeous, exotic body writhing and thrusting against the sheets. "And that is not something I say lightly," he murmurs, closing his eyes and bending back to his task.
His mouth takes Loki's cock again, sliding just an inch down the shaft. He starts an even pace, one hand caressing and teasing his balls while the other returns to gently pumping the base of his cock. Tony swipes a finger over his taint, rewarding him with another loud Oh! and, as Loki quickly approaches orgasm, begins to slow his ministrations.
"No," Loki moans desperately, thrusting his hips up hard enough that more of his cock jerks up into Tony's mouth. "No, please, Tony.." Tony moans against him, and he gasps again. "Please, please.."
Tony complies. He slides his mouth up and down again, gaining speed. One of Loki's hands snaps to his head, working into his hair, gripping tightly, and Tony moans again. It sends Loki over the edge. He comes with a loud cry, inarticulate and gasping, his hips thrusting up into Tony, fingers tight in his hair. It's hard for Tony to keep up, one hand holding Loki's hips down as the other continues to pump at the base of his cock, his mouth tight around the head.
He rides out the waves of Loki's orgasm. It's still somewhat difficult for him, especially considering he'd only in the past year learned the art of the blowjob, but he's improving, adapting. Slowly, Tony leans up, gasping, swallowing, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, glancing up at his lover with a roguish grin. Loki's sprawled out across his sheets, panting, his skin fading to white again. Tony crawls back up his body, kissing him deeply. Loki's tongue probes his, tasting himself on Tony's lips, and he moans deeply into Tony's mouth. Tony shudders, grinning.
"Okay, sooo, you're back to, uh.."
"Normal," Loki finishes, nodding once, his voice hoarse. He frowns. "I don't understand."
"I don't either. Stress, maybe?"
"That doesn't make sense," Loki replies quietly, his voice distant.
"Hm," Tony intones, pausing. Loki’s eyes darken. "But, at least we now know the cure," he tries, trying to recapture Loki’s attention. “If you can call it that.”
Loki snorts, raising an eyebrow. He strokes Tony's hair, looking over his face, searching for something. Tony raises an eyebrow in reply. "Did you mean what you said?"
"When?" Tony shifts and lays beside Loki, resting his head on his shoulder, closing his eyes and sighing against his lover's skin. He's sweaty, breath just now returning to normal, and Tony enjoys the smell that always seems to linger on Loki's skin: ice, smoke, leather, mixed with his soap, his laundry detergent. It was intoxicating.
"Any of it. All of it." An uncomfortable pause. "That I'm stunning."
"Every word, baby," Tony murmurs, smiling softly. "That's as close as I can describe it in words."
"Hum," Loki replies, his voice distracted, far away.
They lay there in silence for a few minutes, listening to the other breathe. Loki shivers, and Tony covers him with the sheet, curling more into his body. He kisses Loki’s neck, nuzzling into his shoulder, sighing contentedly.
"Tony?" Loki murmurs, and Tony twitches, half-asleep.
"Assuming this is, indeed, the ‘cure‘, such as it is... Does this mean you'll be, ah.. How did you put it?"
"Ah, yes, I remember. Sucking me off whenever I lose control?"
Tony shivers with a grin. "You know you can't just start saying shit like that. You know what it does to me." He glances up at Loki, who grins deviously back at him. "Dunno, babe. How often are you planning on going Jotun?"
"The original plan was never again, but if doing so means I'm given excuse to thrust into your mouth at my leisure..."
"Wicked," Tony mutters, faux-grumbling, into his shoulder. "We'll just have to see, won't we."
"Oh, I do think so," Loki hisses into his hair, still grinning, and kisses the top of his head.