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06 June 2013 @ 11:46 am
Fic: Perks of the Position  
Rating: Mature
Warning: Dubcon
Words: 2200
Fandom/Pairing: Avengers/MCU
Pairing: Loki/Clint Barton
Summary: The flight to Germany gives Loki too much time to think, until Barton offers distraction.

Note: for [community profile] kink_bingo amnesty fill. Thanks to [personal profile] hearts_blood for the beta!

Also at AO3

Loki scanned the small airplane's blandly beige interior. The humans were dozing in the plush, leather-coated chairs all around him. In the chair across the aisle, Barton turned his head, awake, when he knew Loki's attention was on him. Loki told him, "Dim the lights. The team needs rest."

Barton nodded and rose to go forward to take care of it.

It was long, slow trip to Germany and Loki wished he could speed it up, but there was nothing to do but be patient. He drank elderberry vodka and looked out the oval window.

At first he saw only his own reflection, and though he tried to alter it and make himself look proud and confident, it faded back to himself, too somber and troubled. This journey gave him entirely too much time to think.

He reminded himself there was nothing to worry about. He had made a good plan with Barton's help and it should succeed. But what Barton did not know was that failure would let him win something else he wanted. Glancing at the scepter leaning against the chair at his side and sensing the energies swirling within it, his determination hardened. This scepter and its bargain held a poison needle, which they thought he did not see. He would not be ruled like one of these Earthly sheep. To exchange one form of subservience for another was not his plan.

He had to be very careful, though, walking this blade. If he didn't walk it through to the end, he would face worse than death.

I have already seen that. I will not go there again, he vowed to his reflection. When the lights in the airplane's cabin dimmed and the image vanished as if it was falling into the night, the ice rattled against the glass in his cup.

He drained the drink and set the cup on the ledge, but within moments his gaze sought the window again.

The stars shone sparsely, veiled by atmosphere at this low altitude, and were distant reminders of this strange and primitive mortal plane.

Home, he thought with a longing, remembering how the sky looked in Asgard. But then, angry at himself for the lapse, he shoved the sentimentality away and took hold of the scepter to bring it across his lap. This was better. This was what he wanted. He would be free, and he would rule and no one could stop him.

Barton returned to stand before him and asked quietly, "Need anything else? Refill?"

Loki glanced up at him. "No. You may settle yourself and sleep."

"You don't sleep?" Barton asked, sounding curious.

"Not as humans do." He had tried to sleep once in the car, exhausted by using the scepter and opening the portal, but his dreams had been dark and left him unrested. But it was now too late to sleep. He would never sleep in the middle of a battle; this was a quiet lull, but it was still a battle. While Fury could not track them with Loki shielding the plane, Heimdall must have seen him on Midgard by now, and Thor would be sent after him soon. Thor was predictable, but his timing was not, and if he came too early the plan would need adjustment.

"You seem worried," Barton said. "Do you want to go over the plan again?"

Loki frowned at him, wondering at this initiative. The spell didn't require unthinking obedience because he had no use for mindless automatons, but this interest in his master's well-being was strange. "No. I have no concerns. Only impatience."

He meant it as a dismissal, but Barton persisted, "Then how about distraction?"

Loki was about to refuse him and irritably order him to rest, when Barton added, a bit hesitantly as if he was unsure of what he was saying, "I'm willing to do whatever you want."

Loki blinked, nonplussed by what he thought Barton was saying. "Are you offering me intimate favors, Barton?"

"If you want," Barton said, his voice level without a hint of whether it was something he wanted. "You're my mission. And you're tense; I know how to fix that."

Loki regarded him for a moment, at first disgusted by the thought of any Midgardian primitive touching him. But then again, if Thor had helped himself to the locals, why shouldn't he? And when he was ruling this planet, he should know everything they could do. "Is this a common practice before your other missions?"

"Sometimes." Barton added, with a shrug, as if it didn't matter to him, either way. "I don't know if it's something your people want, but it works for humans."

"We're not different in that way," Loki admitted. "Though not so ruled by our primitive instincts." That was overstating things perhaps, since Aesir were ruled by their own primitive instincts to fight, but Loki had more self-control than they did and he had learned to sublimate his body's desires into his powers long ago. But he had always wanted to learn more about everything, and this seemed it might be an interesting experience.

"Your offer is intriguing. I know not what you would do, but I wish to find out." He doubted anything a human could do would match the feel of that energy sparking through him and obeying his commands, but a few minutes' distraction might be worth it. He seized the scepter and channeled the energy to set the illusion around them. "There, now all any other will see if they happen to wake is us speaking together."

He realized after he'd done it that everyone on the plane belonged to him, so it didn't matter whether anyone watched, but it still seemed… rude. His lips twitched in amusement at his own reflexive manners, when he was intending to unleash a very unmannerly chaos.

The smile widened and he set the scepter upright against the plane wall before beckoning Barton nearer. "I am ready."

Barton's expression didn't change, the blue of his eyes shining brightly, as he lowered himself to his knees before Loki. His hands settled on Loki's legs and coaxed his knees apart to sidle up between.

While Barton's hands slid up his thighs, Loki concentrated to shift his clothes - he wasn't actually wearing the human suit he seemed to be, but his usual semi-armor. Barton's hands paused as the cloth beneath them changed to thicker, more leathery fabric. "That's… so cool," Barton murmured. "I know it's an illusion, but it felt real."

"It would be a poor illusion if it were only visual," Loki told him and smirked. "But now you can see what you need to remove."

Barton took the hint, and he pushed the long tunic out of the way and started working on the laces that held his breeches together at the front.

There was, Loki thought, something surprisingly arousing about being slowly undressed in this way. Usually he would shift his clothes from him all at once, but he was curious about Barton's plan.

Laces loose, Barton tugged the front open, bit by bit, and spread it apart, first baring the lower abdomen. Barton leaned in to put his lips on the skin and sweep it with his tongue.

Loki's hand rested on Barton's short bristly hair to keep him there and nudged his head down. "Open the rest with your mouth. I want your mouth on me."

Barton's chin and mouth pressed down on him, making small movements against his groin to undo the laces with his lips and teeth, spreading a moist heat. He wanted to squirm and demand Barton hurry up, but he held his tongue. He would have patience, let Barton do whatever else he willed, and embrace this experience in all its maddening teasing.

Hot breath and lips brushed at his cock, as Barton opened the front to the end of the seam, and then he pulled back to see what he'd achieved already.

Loki felt pleasantly exposed then and looked down to see he was swelling to life. Barton gave a faint satisfied smile at the sight.

One hand slid down Loki's skin, tracing his muscles and the hollow beneath before grasping the rising cock in one hand.

Loki caught his breath, not expecting the rush of want sweeping through him at the firm touch.

"No, not much different at all," Barton smirked. His hand moved, rubbing and squeezing him to firmness.

"I think you could prove it with your mouth," Loki tilted his head back, eyes lowering to enjoy this feeling. Yes, this was a fine distraction.

He didn't expect Barton to rise up, dislodging Loki's hand from his head, and lean in to draw his tongue along Loki's throat, even while he didn't release his cock.

"Oh, ancestors," Loki groaned.

"Like that?" Barton chuckled lowly and did it again, giving Loki a full body shiver as he pulled his head to the side, to let Barton's tongue reach under his jaw and beneath his ear.

"Yes, most definitely." Loki's voice was hoarse, trying to keep control as Barton's hand continued to tug at him, those callouses on his fingers rubbing him with extra, unusual friction, heightening the sensation in new, unexpected ways. Barton dragged his tongue down again, sucking at the base of his throat. "That skilled tongue could find another use."

"As you like." Barton bent again, lower, and Loki tensed as the slightly rough tongue swept across his cock with slow deliberation.

"I knew I liked you." He wanted to move, to encourage Barton's mouth to swallow him down, but there was still a hand wrapped firmly around the base, keeping him still, while the tongue started to lick the more sensitive underside with firm strokes.

Barton broke the rhythm when he felt the twitch of growing need, rising up to lick at the head again with maddening thoroughness, seemingly just to pull a whining complaint from Loki's throat. Finally, though, his lips wrapped the tip, and Loki's lower body seized up, trying to thrust upward and deeper.

He was strong enough it worked, and for a moment, he was blessedly engulfed in the heat, before Barton pulled back. But he didn't keep Loki hanging too long, lips and tongue working with eager vigor on his erection.

Loki watched Barton's head rise and fall, his mouth taking Loki's cock inside, and the sight, as much as the actual feel of it, grew the arousal to a fiery knot of need and desire. His hands curled around the arms of the chair, and his head went back, as the welling pleasure finally cracked open. He thrust upward, hips rising from the chair in reflex, as he came.

The rush filled his body, rising through his spine like a firestorm. He stayed there, a brief but endless moment, burning with want suddenly satisfied.

When he opened his eyes, Barton was still kneeling on the floor and was watching him. His lips looked delightfully reddened and slightly swollen, and his eyes were fixed on Loki's face, watching him as he emerged from the pleasure. "Was that what you wanted?" Barton asked.

Loki found he was a bit breathless as he answered, "Ah yes. More than I expected."

Barton nodded and started to rise.

"Wait. Stay there," Loki ordered and Barton froze, lowering himself back to his heels.

Inhaling a breath, Loki centered himself and said, "I am not so selfish that I offer no return."

"I don't need -"

Loki put a finger across his lips to silence him. "A gift for a gift. But mine is more efficient." He slid his finger up to rest his palm on Barton's forehead. Then gathering his power and shaping it with a whisper, he sent it into Barton's mind.

The human's spine arched, his eyes sprang wide and his mouth opened. He stopped breathing, overwhelmed by the pleasure crashing through him. Loki smirked and pulled his hand away. Barton collapsed, head on Loki's knee, panting, shaking, utterly spent.

"Oh my god," he whispered, barely able to form words.

"Yes." Loki's hand stroked Barton's hair, idly smoothing it with his fingers, and he leaned back in his chair. "So you see, serving me is not without its benefits, Clint."

He'd benefitted from Barton's service, but … as the feeling dwindled, he realized the taste had left him wanting more. It wasn't enough.

Loki's gaze turned, drawn to the scepter. His free hand reached out for it… something deep still hungry to feel its energy humming through him, despite the physical pleasure still echoing in his body.

His fingers curled around the haft, and he drew forth the energy as if he was drinking in a star. The power flowed within, more fulfilling than any physical sensation.

He closed his eyes but his senses expanded and brightened. He could feel the energies of this world and the tangled pulse of the billions of creatures scurrying about, silently crying out in their confusion and horror. There was so much suffering in their meager flickering lives.

When he held the power like this, he felt no hesitation that he could save this Realm. He could give all of them the same clarity that he knew.

As Barton is mine, as the scepter is mine-- soon, all this will be mine. And they will know peace.


Crossposted from DW There are comment count unavailable comments over there. Feel free to comment wherever.