Author's Note: Just a little ficlet I came up with while on the bus today. The background is totally up to you, the reader; I personally wrote this imagining it taking place in an alternate universe of sorts but whatever works for you. xo.

Words & Names.

It wasn't until Tony completely froze that Loki realized he had just moaned the wrong name. Later, after reflection, he realized that it couldn't even really be called a freeze; more like a momentary pause. Indeed, the only reason Loki had noticed it at all was due to his position at the time. With his heels digging into Tony's muscled back and his fingers clawing at already scarred shoulders, it was hard to miss a single movement Tony made. Therefore, the absence of movement, no matter how brief, was still jarring for Loki, but he knew it was his own fault for entertaining such filthy, torrid fantasies while he let Tony unknowingly became a substitute for the real person Loki desired.

But before Loki had any time to think about what to do, before he had any time to compose words and formulate a plausible excuse, Tony had started moving again, his hips driving forward harder and harder, pressing against Loki until he was bruised. His fingers were suddenly more demanding, scratching and tearing away at smooth white skin until it was red and marred, threatening to spew blood.

And all the while, Loki merely closed his eyes, kept his moans wordless and rued the day that Thor was ever born.