Tony didn’t know how long he’d been standing in front of the mirror, staring at himself, not taking care of his goatee. Loki was ‘measuring the time’ and Tony was wasting it and –
“Pet?”
Crap. “What would you prefer?” Tony rushed out, still staring ahead.
Loki frowned at him in the mirror. “I don't understand?”
“You said less elaborate. What kind of beard would you prefer? Or I could just... not wear one. Do subs on Asgard have beards? It's been a while since I've gone clean shaved but if that's what you want... I could use the time I save every morning for something else. Service. In... some way or another. I could –“
“Anthony.” Tony held his breath. His eyes finally met Loki’s in the mirror. “You're beautiful,” Loki said. “There's nothing wrong with your beard.”
“But you said…”
Loki sighed. “Do you like it?”
“Well, yes.”
“Do you think it suits you?”
Tony lifted his chin. “Actually, yes. I do.”
“But still you'd change it to please me.”
“Yes.” Tony hated the way he was blushing.
“Any way I want?”
“Y... well. Maybe not any way. Within reason. But the point is, I would. Change the way I look. If it... pleases you.” The blush intensified.
Loki moved in and brushed his lips against Tony's neck, both hands on Tony’s hips. “Make sure it's immaculate,” he ordered, gentle, but unmistakably an order. “I don't care how long it takes.” And then he just… left. Tony stared at his own face in the mirror again. The grey at his temples. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. He looked tired. He could probably use some sun. But the beard – was nice. He did like it. He didn’t want to change it. Had Loki just called him beautiful??? Nobody had ever called him beautiful! Doms had called him hot, or handsome, or attractive, but not – that. He wasn’t beautiful. Beautiful was for some skinny little femme twink. He straightened and rolled his shoulders. Well, compared to a space god he probably was a skinny little twink, but… still. It didn’t sit right with him. But why had his chest done the thing then, when Loki had said it? He cleared his throat. So the beard would stay.
And still… the idea of changing for Loki… changing something about himself to please his Dom… all of a sudden he couldn’t stand the fact that they weren’t in the same room. He closed his eyes and steadied himself on the sink. Easy, Tony. Sub frenzy? Really? Out of the blue like that? He took a deep breath. Counted to ten in his head. It didn’t do a fucking thing. His knees were weak for fuck’s sake. Oh god please not another meltdown. Please no. He could picture it in his head, clear as day: go to Loki, kneel, tell him what’s going on, and Loki would be all sweet and understanding and give him exactly what he needed. And Tony would hate himself for being this pathetic and needy and clingy and desperate. He took another breath. No. He was stronger than that. Independent. He didn’t need Loki. He didn’t –
“Pet?”
Oh for fuck’s sake. “If you want me to get rid of the grey, I'll dye my hair. I guess I could cut back on the cheeseburgers or work out more or get a hair removal, you know, the laser kind, or, I don’t know, surgery of some kind? Hell I'll have your name tattooed across my chest if that turns you on,” Tony just rambled on, so much more desperate than he had ever wanted to sound, eyes on the floor, his back towards Loki.
“Anthony. Hey. Shshshsh. I've said it before and I'll say it again. You're beautiful.”
“I'm not getting any younger.”
“And?”
“And you're a literal god.”
“So?”
“So I'm...” Tony threw his hands in the air. “I could… make more of an effort I guess is all I’m saying.” Angry, but also small. He sounded so small to his own ears all of a sudden.
“I wouldn't mind seeing you eat a little healthier,” Loki admitted. ”But that has nothing to do with aesthetics.” He stepped closer and turned Tony around to face him. “I do like that idea about the tattoo though,” he breathed.
“Yeah?” Tony said, his voice a little tight.
“Yes. It could be a literal tattoo – or it could be something else.”
“Like what?” Tony was intrigued now, his mind going a hundred miles an hour already.
“A sigil,” Loki said. “One I would create myself, based on the runes of my people. Conjured by and infused with my seiðr, then embossed into your skin.”
Tony’s knees buckled. “Will it hurt?”
Loki leaned in for a kiss, catching Tony against his body. “It can if you want it to,” he murmured. “It doesn't have to.”
“When?” Tony asked, and it might have been a little whiny.
Loki pulled back with a soft little chuckle. “This will take some consideration. Do take care of your beard now, pet.”
A few days later Tony was sitting on a pillow at Loki’s feet, eyes bright, giddy with excitement like a kid on Christmas. “Is it ready? Are you ready?”
Loki smiled, clearly amused. Leaning down to press a kiss to Tony’s hair he said: “Patience is a virtue very becoming of a sub. Maybe we do this some other day.”
Tony whined. If he’d had a tail, he would have wagged it. “Please, Loki. What do I have to do?”
Loki’s smile widened. Turned downright evil.
Tony groaned in frustrated sub. “Please!”
“Well you have been really good recently,” Loki said softly.
Tony nodded. He almost stuck his tongue out and panted.
“Use your words. Tell me what you want, pet.”
Tony closed his eyes for a moment. Swallowed thickly. “Will you please show me the sigil you made for me, Loki?” he said, then lifted his eyes and looked up at his Dom, perfect pleading pose. He knew he was good at this. He’d played this card so, so many times on so may Doms and they’d all given him what he’d wanted. But this – was different. This felt raw and terrifying and there was so much at stake… in the past, if a Dom didn’t get Tony, he’d just shrugged it off and moved on. But this, Loki, this was a whole different game. If Loki didn’t get him, if he changed his mind, if it turned out it was all, in fact, just a giant prank, Tony would… shatter. Break. Curl up into a ball and cry himself dry and never even uncurl and –
“Anthony?”
Oh fuck when had he started crying? Why couldn’t he fucking function, for once, like a fucking normal human being, like an adult, for fuck’s sake?! This was… Loki doing something amazing for him, something intimate, something grand and glorious, something only Loki could do, and here he was, freaking out, still not trusting Loki, still being complicated, still –
“Anthony,” Loki said once more, soft and gentle and concerned. Not touching him. Waiting. Trying to figure out what Tony needed.
“I’m sorry,” Tony whispered, utterly exhausted.
“What just happened, pet?”
“Can we… not?”
“Not what?”
“Talk? Please? I know you want me to… communicate, but… please? Not right now?”
“Oh Anthony, of course,” Loki breathed and joined Tony on the floor, pulling him into his lap. “I’m sorry. Come here. You’re safe. You don’t have to speak right now.”
Gratitude flooded Tony’s entire self as Loki wrapped his arms around him. Warm, safe, loved, cared for. The tears were back, but it was okay now. Tony’s face fit into the crook of Loki’s neck as if their body’s were made for it. Loki held him without complaint until the tears stopped and Tony’s breathing returned to normal and his chest no longer felt as if half the continent was pressing on it. “I’m sorry,” Tony said once more, and this time he wasn’t apologising for his entire existence, just for ruining the moment.
“It’s alright,” Loki said, somehow sensing the difference. “Do you still want to see it?”
The breath Tony took was oh so liberating. “Oh yeah, the heck I do!”
Chuckling softly, Loki untangled himself from Tony and gently manoeuvred him back to his position on the pillow. “Very well.” He held up one hand. “So, it consists of three different runes, although I took some artistic liberties to make it more pleasing to the eye.”
A symbol appeared in the air, glowing green and gold. “This one is ‘fire’”, Loki explained. A second one appeared, circling the first one. “And this one is ‘wilderness’. Together, they can be taken to mean –“
“Wildfire!” Tony burst out. “That’s one of your monikers in mythology!” His eyes were huge as he stared at the runes and then at Loki. “Oh my god that’s literally your name, Lokes! That’s genius! I… how…”
Loki dropped his hand and rolled his eyes. “May I please have permission to proceed?”
“Sorry. Yes. Of course. Proceed.” Tony sat back down more comfortably and clasped his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry, Loki.”
Loki smiled at him. “It’s alright, pet. I’m actually pleased you know about this, to be honest. It’s… one of my more favourable titles.” A third rune appeared. “This one has several meanings. It has been used to mean ‘treasure’ or ‘precious’, for example.” Loki made an elegant, complicated gesture, and all three runes merged into a new, stylised symbol, floating in the air between them. Tony loved it right away. “It could be translated to ‘Loki's property’”, Loki said in a low voice. Heat pooled in Tony’s guts. God yes he wanted that on his body. And then Loki went on: “But what it would actually mean, to me... is… ‘the most valuable thing I have ever called my own’.” He cleared his throat. “Which would be premature.” He vanished the sigil.
“No!” Tony jumped to his feet, staring at the spot where it had been. “Please, I want it!”
“I don't own you, Anthony. I have no right to mark you.”
“But...” Loss. A physical loss cut through Tony's chest as if Loki had taken something away that had been there before. Which was dumb because he was right. Tony wasn't owned. Why wasn't Tony owned? Was Loki taking things slow for Tony's sake, or was he unsure if he wanted Tony? Difficult, exhausting Tony who couldn't follow directions and struggled to communicate well and had such a hard time trusting people? Tony's throat constricted. A scotch would do wonders for that right now, burning away the pain and softening the edges of... everything –
“Anthony?” Tony’s shoulders sagged – and Loki stood, framing Tony's face and making him look up. “What's wrong, pet?”
“I don't want to wait any longer, Loki,” Tony said, and Loki's name wasn't just his name, it was his title, his honorific. Tony was begging.
And Loki understood. “I don't have your collar ready, pet,” he breathed.
“I don't care.” Tony swallowed. “I mean, the collar can wait, right? We don't have to play this by anyone's rules but ours, do we?”
Loki started smiling. “That's true.”
Tony looked up at him. “Then please, Loki, let me kneel at your feet, and claim me. Mark me with your... sigil and make me yours. I promise I'll try to be good and take any correction or punishment when I disappoint you. Please. Loki, please.”
Loki straightened. Swallowed. There was moisture in his eyes. “I'm... I need preparation for this,” he said, clearing his throat. “Are you absolutely sure?”
Tony just nodded. When Loki raised his eyebrows at him, Tony whispered: “Yes. God, yes.”