Yes I did.
"I have had just about enough of you."
Tony swallowed. Okay, so, perhaps this hadn't been his best course of action—but hey, stealing Loki's helmet and painting obscene things on it had seemed like such a good idea at the time!
Loki stalked closer, practically snarling, with his golden horned helmet held under one dangerously lithe arm.
Desperate now to keep all his bits in the proper places, Tony said hastily, "Hey, now that can't be entirely true—I mean, you're the God of Mischief, yeah? And that's all this is, just a little mischief—"
Tony's mouth snapped shut—but even as he started reaching for his Mark VII cuffs, he was watching the seething Asgardian. Watching the way the red flush of rage bloomed over his pale features, the strong set of his shoulders, the flecks of spittle at the corner of those kissable lips—
Loki moved, too fast for Tony to track, and then the god had him pinned to his lab worktable, the helmet put away but not forgotten. Heartbeats passed thus, with both breathing harshly, fueled by fury and (on Tony's part) acute fear and an odd arousal he was trying to Hulk-smash out of his brain. Both of them.
"You thought to outwit me?" Loki sneered, gesturing to the cuffs now lying much too far away for Tony's piece of mind before laughing. "That was a foolish thought, Man of Iron."
"What can I say," Tony shrugged. "This playboy wants a fair fight."
The god's dark eyebrows rose, and at the word playboy he studied Tony for a moment before licking his lips. "Then you should never have considered challenging me."
Tony had to hold back a groan. Loki noticed, and his frown was replaced by a smirk.
"Have you always been so easily offended, Loki? It doesn't make any sense, y'know, trickster god not being amused by a prank—"
"You defaced my helmet."
"And wasn't it pretty?" Tony asked rather flippantly, trying to ignore how abnormally fast he was talking, how Loki's answering snarl sent a pool of heat south. Since when did he like being dominated and frightened? "Seriously, though, chill out. –Eh, I mean," Loki's expression then scared his arousal right off, "no harm done, right? Apparently it washed right off and everything. Hey, do they even have Tide on Asgard? How about Downy? Clorox? Or did you need Windex since your helmet is so goddamned shiny?"
Green eyes went from blazing to bemused. "What?"
"Never mind." Arousal had returned, but the crisis was averted, it seemed. "Can you just—can you just get off?"
"I think not, Stark," Loki said, his expression dark again. "There is still the matter of your punishment."
His heart sank. Oh. Shit.
"Do you know what I generally do to those who think to humiliate me, to best me or otherwise outwit me?" Loki hissed, leaning forward to touch their noses together.
Tony swallowed. He really was too close. "I'm… guessing it's painful?"
"Excruciatingly so," Loki breathed, his eyes glittering madly. He took hold of the billionaire's shoulders. "But oh, you know pain, Man of Iron. You would expect that kind of response. So I shall best you in another way…"
He gripped Tony's face and leaned in to kiss him—hard, aggressively, in a way that showed which one of them was really the dominating playboy.
Tony recoiled—but only at first. Eventually the burn of his arousal won out, and he kissed back, moaning into Loki's mouth until the trickster god pulled back, panting for an entirely different reason now and doing that goddamned smirking thing again.
Well, Tony's inventing brain thought as it finally clicked back on. That was… um…
"Have you learned your lesson now, Stark?" Loki asked, and something smoldered in his bottomless green eyes.
"Um, yeah," Tony managed to say between gasps, as the God of Mischief and Lies and prelude-to-angry-dominant-punishment-sex kisses finally released him, and he moved away from the scene of the crime. "If this is my punishment every time I piss you off, I've learned that I need your helmet back so I can draw more shit on it."
I will go down with this ship.