Title: Call it Magic
Word Count: ~2,500
Content/Warnings: sort of established relationship, kind of fuck buddies, Tony's not really sure where they're at TBH, magic, curious!tony, light bondage, light D/s undertones, blow jobs, face-fucking
Summary: Magic is fascinating. So is Loki.
Notes: This is my first time writing this pairing, but when I saw your sign-up, corcalamus, this idea immediately popped into my head. I had a lot of fun playing around with these two, and I really hope you enjoy!
The title is a line from the song "Magic" by Coldplay.
Thanks so much to capitu and crazyparakiss for looking this over for me!
Read on AO3
Magic, Tony thinks with wonder. He sits on the edge of his workbench, all his toys and tools and machinery lying forgotten, as he watches Loki create holograms out of thin air. Magic is fascinating. And it takes quite a lot to fascinate Tony.
Tony has always been curious. Sure, all children are curious, but it was different for Tony, and he never really grew out of it. Just like when he was a kid, he still feels that need to take things apart, to see what makes them tick, to figure out how things work. It's this crawling, burning itch under his skin that doesn't go away until the knowledge is firmly stored in his head. It's what inspired him to build his first circuit board when he was four years old, and an engine when he was six. It's what drove him to graduate from M.I.T. when he was seventeen, while the other kids his age were learning geometry and going to prom. It's what made him create JARVIS, and what motivates him to push further and further with the Iron Man technology.
Because Tony is a genius; he gets things. It's instinctive, natural, for him to understand machines, to work effortlessly with the newest technology. He can become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics in a night, and create a miniaturized arc reactor in the middle of the desert. Understanding what makes things tick, mastering them, has always come easily to Tony.
But not magic.
Magic doesn't make any sense. It's illogical, defying gravity and physics and the very laws that govern the universe—Tony's universe. The fact that magic is something that fundamentally escapes Tony—that flies in the face of everything he's ever learned—should be driving him crazy. He should be spending hours pouring over ancients texts in an effort to obtain the secret knowledge. He should be burning with resentment that something that is so effortless to Loki should be so impossible for Tony. But he's not.
Instead, he's sitting here, ignoring the work that he normally can't be pried away from, and watching Loki with delighted eyes.
Magic is...well it's magical; there's no better word for it. And Loki is doubly so. It's obvious that he was made for magic, the energy wrapping itself lovingly around him with every flick of his wrist. Loki's just playing now, showing off for Tony as he summons random objects and spins them through the air. He makes a wrench and a blowtorch waltz across the length of the workshop, and Tony can practically see the way the magic coils gently around Loki's body in a lover's caress. Loki's eyes glow with pleasure and delight, and Tony's torn between watching the magical display and watching Loki. It's a hard choice.
Loki looks up and flashes him a knowing, mischievous smile. Tony's traitorous heart skips a beat. He's not sure why Loki makes him feel like some schoolboy with a crush; Tony hasn't been a schoolboy in a long, long time. But even with Pepper—the only person Tony's ever really loved—he never felt this nervousness, this throbbing undercurrent of arousal anytime they're in the same room.
It's been almost a year now since Thor brought his brother back to earth, claiming he truly repented and that he wished to make amends. They'd all been sceptical, especially Tony, but Loki had willingly undergone all of their tests and trials, and if Loki is playing them, then he's playing quite the long con. Not that Tony has completely discounted that possibility, but Tony's always liked his men a little dangerous.
And now it's been months. Months since Loki offered to try and teach Tony magic, and, when that failed, to let him observe Loki cast. Months since Loki had smirked at him before pushing him up against the wall and kissing him breathless. Months since they started this thing that Tony doesn't know how to label. For the first time in his life, that fact isn't a comfort.
"Do you see something that you like?" Loki interrupts his thoughts. Tony's been staring absently at Loki's hands for the past however many minutes. He focuses now on the slick, black rope weaving between Loki's pale fingers.
Tony slides off the workbench, and steps forward to tug curiously at the rope moving itself between Loki's spread hands. The rope reacts immediately, winding itself tightly around Tony's wrist. Before he even has a chance to process what's happened, his right arm has been pulled behind his back, and the end of the rope has managed to snag his other wrist, securing both arms firmly behind him. He tests the bonds. They hold strong, as expected.
Tony quirks a brow at Loki. "You know, it's generally considered polite to ask before tying somebody up."
"Are you objecting?"
"No." Tony's cock is already half hard in his jeans; he definitely doesn't have any objections. "A little warning might be nice next time though."
"Oh, but where is the fun in that?" Loki asks, running his knuckles across Tony's jaw. He cocks his head as he gazes into Tony's eyes. "I think I would like you on your knees now." Tony raises an eyebrow, and Loki continues, "Yes, I quite like you on your knees."
"Make me," Tony challenges. He doesn't actually have any problem with getting to his knees for Loki, but he enjoys baiting him even more.
Loki's eyes flash, and then an invisible force is pressing down on Tony, forcing him to the ground. The blood rushes to his cock so quickly, it makes Tony's head spin. Or maybe that's from the magic forcing him to kneel before Loki, but either way, Tony's not complaining. He raises his eyes to meet Loki's, pleased at the savage hunger he sees there.
"If you need to stop—"
"I know, I know. You'll stop if I ask you to." This isn't the first time they've pushed each other's limits, though it still surprises Tony, how careful Loki is about not pushing too far.
Loki smiles, short and sharp, before he slides his hands to the front of his dark pants, undoing the buttons with deft fingers. He peels back the fabric, and Tony can see the outline of his erection straining against the silk of his briefs. Tony doesn't even register his movement until he feels the shape of Loki beneath his lips as he mouths at Loki's cloth-covered cock.
Above him, Loki hums and scratches his fingers against Tony's scalp, sending tingles down Tony's spine. Loki's briefs are soaked with saliva and precome, and Tony struggles uselessly at his bonds, needing to pull the material away so he can properly get his mouth on him. Tony feels desperate already, and they've barely even started. Loki's fingers tighten in his hair and push Tony's head back gently. There's a fizzle of heat in the air, and then Loki's briefs are sliding down of their own accord, his long, hard cock bobbing free.
Tony's dick throbs. The rope around his wrists and Loki's hands in his hair anchor him in place, which is a damned good thing, because the sight and smell of Loki's arousal, and the feeling of magic buzzing around them, all have Tony flying high.
Loki tilts his head up, forcing him to tear his gaze away from Loki's cock, and focus instead on Loki's face. His eyes are black, and he grins as he takes in Tony's likely lust-fogged expression. "How foolish I was to think humans had nothing to offer," Loki murmurs. "Though I am not certain I was wrong about the kneeling." Magic slides deliciously over Tony's skin like hot water, curling around his throat and pressing against his lips, forcing his mouth open. "I do rather enjoy you on your knees before me. Serving me."
Tony moans, the sound reverberating through his throat and making the magic vibrate against his skin. He can't look away from Loki's hypnotizing, fathomless eyes, all pupil as he guides Tony's open mouth onto his cock.
This is definitely not the first time Tony's done this, and he works to relax his throat as Loki presses in. By now, Loki is well aware of just how far he can go with Tony, and Tony knows that Loki will push until he's right up against Tony's limits, until Tony is desperate and begging for it. He's already halfway there, the heavy weight of Loki's cock on his tongue, the heady smell of him filling Tony's nostrils, the ironclad grip of his magic holding Tony in place—it's all enough to push Tony perilously close to the edge.
Loki smirks down at him, as if he can read every thought flickering through Tony's head, and maybe he can—he is magical after all—which only makes Tony more eager. He moans around the thick length of Loki and relishes the barely perceptible fluttering of Loki's eyelashes in pleasure.
Loki's a maddening, infuriating mystery, fickle and beautiful with his ever-changing whims. Some days he's wild and recklessly passionate, lips skittering over every inch of Tony's skin until Tony's panting for it. Some days he's flirtatious and coy, batting his eyes, and twisting Tony around his finger just as easily as his swirls of magic. Some days he's brusque, efficient, getting them off with hurried—yet still mind-blowing—hand jobs in between training sessions. He's mercurial, unpredictable, unknowable, and Tony has never been more fascinated in his entire life. Of course he's fascinated. It's been years—decades really—since Tony's been faced with a puzzle this complex. It's textbook, really, the man who needs to know everything, captivated by the unknowable man. Nothing surprising about it. Though the desire...the desire had been a surprise It still surpises Tony, this strange connection between them, this need to know Loki, if only in the biblical sense.
Today, Loki has clearly decided to be stoic and commanding, taking his pleasure from Tony without giving an inch. But Tony's never met a challenge he didn't want to conquer completely, and he sets to work employing every trick in the book to make Loki fall apart. Deep down, Tony knows it's likely a losing battle—trying to out-sex a God is probably a little ambitious, even for him—but he'll be damned if he doesn't give it his best effort.
Loki grips Tony's hair tighter, and tears prickle Tony's eyes, even as lust floods through him. His cock is unbearably hard in his constricting jeans, and he struggles for a moment at his bonds, desperate to get a hand on himself and relieve the ache.
"None of that now." Loki scolds, before shoving his cock all the way down Tony's throat. He holds Tony there for several long seconds, pulling back just as Tony starts to feel dizzy from it. Tony loves it, loves that floaty, fuzzy feeling that always slides over him with a good face-fucking. He blinks lazily up at Loki, and Loki smiles back at him, all teeth, before he's holding Tony's face steady and wildly pumping his hips.
Loki's cock is spit-slick and fire-hot as it slides into Tony's mouth over and over and over again, the fleshy tip bumping up against his throat on every thrust. Tony loses himself in it, in the comforting fullness, in the wild gleam in Loki's eye, in the stinging ache in his shoulders from his bindings. He can feel Loki's magic buzzing around them, the vibrations gaining in intensity as Loki gets closer and closer to orgasm.
There's a faint pressure against his groin, and then Tony moans as something cups him through his jeans and starts massaging his aching cock. Magic really is the most glorious thing. It molds itself around the shape of him outlined in denim, and rocks and pulsates along the length of his dick until Tony's eyes roll to the back of his head.
He's going to come, he can feel it building up, fire licking up his spine as Loki takes him. Tony's owned, he knows he is, Loki's cock in his mouth and Loki's magic wrapped around his cock—around his whole body, really—is proof positive that Loki's pulling the strings. And Tony doesn't mind. It's crazy—insane, some might say—to put so much faith in Loki, but there's something here, Tony knows there is.
Loki bites his lip as he comes down Tony's throat, holding him firmly in place. The feeling of Loki shuddering against him, of his hot release sliding down Tony's throat, is enough to send Tony over the edge himself. He comes his his jeans, trembling as Loki's magic continues it's sensual massage of his softening dick.
Tony's not sure how many seconds pass before Loki finally slips out of his mouth—he's too high on endorphins to pay much attention to anything right now. Loki's fingers card through his hair, surprisingly gentle, and Tony can feel the ropes around his wrists start to loosen. Loki's clever fingers slide down to his shoulders, massaging out the ache, and Tony rests his forehead against Loki's hip.
He likes this part, the quiet, careful Loki that only makes an appearance after they fuck. It's what makes Tony think that it's not just him who feels the thrum of something more between them. Loki is thorough in his aftercare when he's put Tony through his paces, and he's pliant and soft when the roles are reversed.
Loki holds out a hand and pulls Tony to his feet. He's already tucked himself back in, and Tony feels a tingle of magic float over his groin as Loki kindly clears Tony's jeans of the sticky mess. Tony steps forward, pressing his chest right up against Loki's and staring him straight in the eyes. His gaze is as sharp as ever, but there is a gentleness there too, if one looks hard enough. Luckily Tony's always been observant, at least when he wants to be.
Tony leans forward and kisses Loki slowly, softly. He memorizes the way Loki's mouth feels against his own, the feeling of Loki's tongue flicking along the seam of his lips as the kiss deepens.
"Excuse me, sir, but Mr. Banner is on his way over," JARVIS interrupts, before they can get too far.
Reluctantly, Tony pulls back, and he refuses to acknowledge the flutter in his stomach when he sees Loki's eyes flash with disappointment.
"I am afraid my dear brother is expecting me shortly, anyways."
"Don't you usually show up an hour late to those meetings?"
Loki grins. "Yes. Which is why I like to show up on time every once in awhile. It would not do for me to become too predictable."
Tony smiles back, faltering a moment before murmuring, "I guess I'll see you later then."
"Yes." Loki walks towards the door, hesitating just on the threshold before looking over his shoulder. "Tonight."
He sweeps out of the room, his magic crackling along behind him, and Tony grins.