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“And you’re sure you’re alright?” Tony asked for what must have been the tenth time in the past hour.
“It is not the first time I have been hit by one of Amora’s curses. I will be fine.”
“Yeah, but all that you will consume what you love until not even a drop of it is left stuff sounded kinda serious.”
Loki rolled his eyes. “Your concern is flattering, but there is no need for it, Tony.”
“Hey!” Tony punched his arm. “Who says I’m concerned for you ? I’m not too keen on being consumed , you know?”
The corner of Loki’s mouth twitched with a smile, and he leaned forward to press a kiss against the forehead of the man he loved. “I will let you know if I start feeling particularly murderous.”
“You’re always a little murderous.”
“That’s why I said particularly. ”
Not that Loki wasn’t aware of the danger. Amora’s spells and curses had more than once landed the Avengers in a fair bit of trouble. He still loathed just to think back to that one time the tower had been filled with guinea pigs instead of Avengers, and he had to chase after them to turn them back—until a certain green one had started chasing him instead.
So, yes, Loki knew not to take any of Amora’s curses lightly. And as soon as her spell had hit him on the battlefield, he had immediately taken precautions and searched for the foreign magic in him, well aware of how he would have to go about unraveling it. Only that this time, Loki had not felt even an ounce of foreign magic in him. And so, after hours of caution and nothing happening, he was rather convinced that Amora’s spell had simply failed . It was unusual, but not unheard of. It had been a rather intense fight after all, and curses were intricate things that needed a lot of focus to cast properly.
But he also didn't want to make his lover uncomfortable in their own bed.
“I could take the guest room tonight if it would make you feel better,” Loki said, absentmindedly brushing his hand along Tony’s nape.
Tony scrunched his nose and seemed to think about it for a total of two seconds. “Nah,” he concluded and turned to Loki with a wide grin. “I still have some plans for you tonight.”
*
Tony’s breath was warm against his skin, little huffs of air hitting Loki’s arm with every exhale. His heartbeat was slow and steady, calm as he slept pressed with his back pressed against Loki’s chest.
Loki wasn’t quite sure why he was awake. He couldn’t remember any night tremors nor any other reason why he may have woken up in the middle of the night. The view outside the window showed a lone moon shining in an almost starless sky. It really was a shame how much the lights of the city obscured the sight of them.
Loki pulled Tony tighter against him and buried his nose in his hair. It still smelled of the shampoo he liked to use, but underneath was that smell that was so distinctly him— warm and musky—the smell Loki had come to associate with home . Who knew that agreeing to join the little hero brigade calling itself the Avengers would ever lead to such a thing?
But now he wouldn’t have it any other way.
He nosed down to Tony’s neck and pressed a featherlight kiss against his skin. Here the smell of his shampoo was fainter, and it was only him that was filling Loki’s senses, causing an odd warmth to spread into him, starting from his chest and spreading through his body until it reached even his toes. He kissed Tony’s skin again. The warmth strengthened. Another kiss, but this time he allowed his tongue to slip past his lips and taste the saltiness of his skin. The warmth strengthened even more.
“Loki?” Tony’s voice was little more than a raspy murmur, dampened by the soft pillow.
His heart rate quickened as he woke up, and Loki closed his eyes to concentrate on the drumming sound. He licked down further on Tony’s neck and pressed his tongue against his pulse point until he could feel it pulsing in sync with the rhythm of Tony’s heartbeat in his ears. He bit into the delicate skin and pulled, feeling it stretch under his teeth before letting go again.
“Is this a creative way of trying to initiate round two?” Tony sounded a lot more awake now. “Or is this the part where you start feeling murderous?”
Loki wanted to respond but found that he couldn’t. It was as if his tongue did no longer want to obey him, heavy and fuzzy in his mouth. All it wanted was to lick another stripe along Tony’s neck and taste the saltiness of his skin. Even if it wasn’t what he truly craved . No, that was waiting underneath.
The burning inside him had amplified and it urged him to get to the warmth that was waiting just below his lover's skin. He pressed his lips to Tony’s pulse point again—not quite a kiss this time—and bit down.
Tony let out a gasp under him, body arching, but Loki easily pressed him back into the mattress, shifting slightly so he would have an easier access to his neck without detaching his lips for even a second. The blood that filled his mouth finally eased the burning inside him, soothing it like an itch that he hadn’t been able to scratch for hours and now that he had started, he could not stop anymore.
“Loki…” Tony gasped, hands burying themselves in Loki’s hair and pulling on the strands until it hurt. But the pain was not bothering him. If anything, he liked it. It perfectly accompanied the taste in his mouth, so unlike anything he had ever tasted before, a liquid so warm and almost sickeningly sweet.
For some reason Loki thought back to that bouquet of roses Tony had gotten him one week into being together. It had been Thor who had made a joke about an Asgardian tradition of gifting roses every week for the entire first year of dating as a symbol of courtship. And though Thor was a horrid liar and everyone could usually see right through him, Tony, for some reason, hadn't. And while Loki could have just told him, he hadn’t either.. Instead, he had cherished every single one of those flowers, hanging one of each bouquet up to dry and be remembered even when their leaves had wilted and colors faded.
It was as if the blood pouring out of Tony’s neck was yet another bouquet of flowers, a testament of his love that Loki couldn't dare deny.
He sunk his fangs deeper and groaned as even more of the blood filled his mouth. He drank with big, hungry gulps, licking, groaning, and sucking on the wound to draw out as much as possible.
“Bambi?”
It was ridiculous that it would be a nickname, one that Loki frequently and vehemently protested—no, he was not an orphan deer, and yes, the allusion to the horns got boring after a while—that would pull him out of his trance, but it was.
He managed to tear himself off Tony’s neck, every slow inch of distance igniting a burn in him that had a whimper leaving his mouth. Everything in him was on fire, screaming at him to just continue , to take what was his , but the sight in front of him finally brought a proper sense of clarity back to his clouded mind.
Tony was staring up at him with wide eyes, thick blood trickling out of the wound on his neck and tinting the sheets around him an ever-growing sea of red.
It bothered him. Oh, it bothered him how it was simply spilling out of the wound, wasted to the cotton when it could be sating his thirst.
Loki clenched his eyes shut and bit into his lip, feeling the fangs that now occupied his mouth break his own skin. A tremble went through him and a whine tore itself from his throat. He had to separate himself from those unwanted thoughts and focus on locating where the curse had set its roots inside him.
“I have like the weirdest boner right now.”
Despite it all, Loki couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh. He dared to open his eyes again and found Tony looking up at him in a mix of confusion and wonder and, of course , lust of all things.
“You have terrible self-preservation instincts,” Loki managed to grit out through clenched teeth. His eyes wandered to Tony’s neck, where the man had pressed his hand against the wound.
“So I’ve been told. You alright though?”
The blood was starting to seep through the crevasses between his fingers, leaving behind long streaks of red on his skin. Without thinking, Loki grabbed his hand and brought it to his mouth. He licked a long stripe across his palm and a shudder went through him as that sweet, sweet taste grazed his tongue once again. He took the fingers into his mouth one after the other, licking and sucking them clean, letting his fangs graze the skin without breaking it until not a drop of blood was left on them. And all the while Tony was staring up at him, lips parted and a beautifully flushed expression on his face.
None of it felt real. It was as if Loki was dreaming, a spectator in his own body and unable to control his limbs. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the wound on Tony’s neck again, and though there was still blood trickling out of it, it wasn't enough. He should sink his teeth deeper, cut the skin until it was gushing red, blood pouring that he would consume until not a drop of it was left.
The sheer violence of the thought made Loki recoil. He scrambled back until he was sitting at the foot of the bed. And Tony— Tony was still just lying there!
“Tony, will you fight back already?” Loki gritted out, digging his nails into the palm of his hand to distract from that burning feeling that had once again spread through his body.
“Ah, yeah, yeah. This is from the curse, right?”
Loki shot him a look. “What do you think ?”
“Don't snap at me, Dracula,” Tony countered, but he did appear to have gotten his brain back to working order. He shuffled out of the bed and took a few steps backwards. “Are you okay though?”
The fire was still burning in Loki’s veins and the ever-present want clouded his thoughts into a haze that tried to mask the signs of the curse lying beneath. But Loki didn't let it enthrall him again. He concentrated on the foreign magic and noticed the strings it had woven in him, red as the blood he had consumed and undeniably growing stronger the more he would take.
“I need you to leave Tony,” Loki said, a little breathless. “I’ll be fine, but I need you to leave.”
Tony hesitated and though it was Loki whose mouth was smeared with his blood, his eyes were filled with concern. What an impossible man he was.
“Okay, but if you need any help, let Jarvis know immediately. And no ,” Tony interrupted when Loki had opened his mouth to protest. "No, I do not care what a master magician you are; you will let me know if you need help.”
Something in Loki wanted to protest, but he knew Tony meant well. And he also knew that Tony wouldn’t leave until he had agreed.
“Fine. I will.” Tony still didn't move and Loki rolled his eyes. “ Promise .”
“Good boy.” Tony flashed him a smile that was probably supposed to be reassuring but had been laced with too much concern for it to be entirely convincing. Then, he disappeared out of the door.
Loki sucked in a deep breath, trying to ease the burning that was borrowing itself deeper and deeper into him.
He could follow Tony so easily. Teleport right after him, to his workshop, to the guest room he would spend the night in, or catch him in the hallway. It would be easy to silence his protests too, and Loki knew how to fool even Jarvis’ watchful eye.
He bit into his cheek until he tasted metal—his own blood.
He was going to kill Amora for putting these kinds of thoughts into his head. But for now, he gathered his magic and went about unraveling the curse.
It took the rest of the night. Tony checked in on him through Jarvis, but after Loki told him that he needed absolute silence to concentrate, he hadn't heard from him again. Once the first rays of sunlight streamed through the window, it was finally done. The feeling of foreign magic still lingered in him like a bad aftertaste that just didn’t want to leave his tongue, but he knew it too would dissipate in time.
Besides, right now he was focused on something much different.
He found Tony sitting in the kitchen with a bowl of cereal in his hand and talking to Steve. When he noticed Loki, he smiled so wide that his entire face lit up.
“Good morning, Edward. You feeling better?”
Loki rolled his eyes, but it was relief that filled him when he noticed how relaxed and, most importantly, fine Tony was. “I have broken the curse, yes.” Loki's eyes trailed down to Tony’s neck, where two band aids hid the marks he had left. “But I believe the real question is, how are you feeling?”
Tony ignored his question. Instead, he pulled Loki down by his chin and used his fingers to spread his lips apart. And then he had the gall to look disappointed. “I swear, Steve, they were like the real deal. All sharp and pointy. And his eyes had been glowing red too.”
Steve looked somewhere between relieved and annoyed—he probably had to listen to Tony’s rambling all morning already. He gave Loki a curt nod. “I am glad the... issue is resolved.”
Loki pulled his face out of Tony’s indignant grasp and shot him a look. “I still cannot believe you didn’t even try to fight back.”
“Oh, come on, Lokes. I know you wouldn't actually hurt me.”
“You could not know that! Why did you not call for help? You didn't even alert Jarvis!”
“Hey, I was just trying to see where it would lead... You looked kinda hot, all vamped up and shit.”
Tony had the audacity to grin. Steve let out a wince and buried his face in his hands.
Loki could only shake his head in exasperation. “You're impossible.”
“Just an opportunist, baby.”
Loki rolled his eyes, but with Tony’s quips, a heavy weight fell off his shoulders. The guilt and worry had been gnawing at him during the entire night, and seeing that Tony was well and healthy, shoving cereals into his mouth without a hint of worry, finally made him relax.
“You know,” Tony said through a mouthful of cereal. “Halloween is coming up soon.” He grinned and sent Loki a suggestive wink. “Maybe we could use this little curse to our advantage and-”
“I don't think I want to be hearing this.” The chair screeched as Steve stood.
Tony watched as he left the kitchen before turning to Loki again. “He’s probably just jealous.”
Loki huffed out a laugh, but his attention shifted back down to Tony’s neck and the two band aids covering the bite mark. His fingers trailed over them, and Tony flinched ever so slightly.
“I’m sorry,” Loki said, voice soft. “I shouldn’t have put you in danger.”
Tony shrugged. “It’s alright. I was the one who said it’s fine for you to stay. Also, I had Bruce check it out, and you just happened to perfectly miss the artery, or any other important things that might have landed us in some actual trouble.”
Loki frowned. “You’re saying I intentionally missed?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. You were supposed to say: Yes, totally, I would never harm you, Tony .”
“Yes, totally, I would never harm you, Tony,” Loki replied flatly.
Tony rolled his eyes and grinned, and the fondness in the familiar gesture had a warmth spread through Loki’s chest that had nothing to do with any sort of curse.
“Although, if you truly were sorry,” Tony started, and his grin turned into something much more sly. “Then maybe you’d actually think about my Halloween suggestion.”
Loki let out a sigh, but it was more for show than anything else. He leaned down and brushed his lips against the side of Tony’s neck that was not occupied by two band aids.
“Anything for you, my love,” he whispered into his skin.