“You seem rather pleased with yourself,” the god said, his arms coming to rest around Tony’s shoulders, their legs intertwined and tangled within the sheets. Loki’s fingers absently trailed along the ridge of Tony’s collarbone, at the faint outline of a yellowing bruise. The injury is old, healed but for the faint lines and ugly splotch remaining, barely visible in the blue glow of Tony’s reactor.
“Uh,” Tony propped himself up with a pillow, one arm resting across Loki’s back. The god’s green eyes looked almost turquoise in the light of the reactor. He grinned. “Yeah.”
Loki smirked, and cocked his head to the side. “You think you are special, Stark? That you’re not one of thousands of beings in this universe, that managed to find their way into my bed?” his lips twitched, in a movement that took Tony’s post-orgasmic brain a second to identify. Amused. The Norse God of Mischief was amused.
“Princess,” Tony looked up at Loki, and gave an insolent grin. “I’d like to see how many of those thousand made you scream.”
“Few,” Loki chuckled, pressing a kiss against Stark’s sternum, directly above the arc reactor. “Very few.”
“Very few as in, say, less than ten percent?” Tony prodded.
Loki grinned. “Fewer.”
“Five percent?” Stark’s arm tightened around Loki’s back, possessive. “Please tell me I cracked the top ten. Oh god, I bet there’s a tentacle monster in the top five, isn’t there? Infinite diversity in infinite combinations and all that. There must be tentacle monsters, somewhere in the universe.”
Loki chuckled, the remaining tension falling from his shoulders, his reactor-tinted eyes heavy with exhaustion. Tony’s expression gentled, almost affectionately.
“Idiot,” Loki whispered, before he tucked his head against the mortal’s chest, carefully to the side of Tony’s reactor. Tony grinned, rubbing circles on Loki’s smooth skin. He watched how Loki’s chest rose and fell in the light of the reactor.
“Yeah,” Tony whispered to himself. “Top five."