Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The second thought to cross Loki's mind on meeting Thor is that he has an excellent handshake, as far as these things go: firm yet friendly, his hands big and warm to match his smile.

His first thought, if he’s being entirely honest with himself, is that the boy appears not only to have been sculpted by some divine force but rather has a physique fit for a god himself. Given however that Thor is twenty-three to Loki’s thirty-seven and he’s visiting Loki’s home in a strictly professional capacity, Loki reluctantly brings that particular train of thought to a swift and permanent halt.

Loki knows very little about Thor, barring the small amount of information he could glean from the advert he found online and a quick spot of social media stalking. Thor runs a small gardening business as a solo effort — has done so for the last couple of years — and is rather good at it too if the reviews are anything to go by, few in number but glowing in tone. He lives in a small town about a ten-minute drive away and has done so his entire life. Other than that, he’s something of a mystery.

They take a meandering tour of the garden together, the grass underfoot lush and overlong now spring has arrived and everything is growing keenly. In winter the garden had been just about manageable, barring a few already overgrown sections Loki abandoned entirely along with the pretty but voracious creeping ivy that’s now threatening to swallow the house whole, but then Loki had known on first inheriting the property that he’d eventually need some help around the place. He probably shouldn’t have let it get quite so out of hand before dealing with it, but an eventual search online found him Thor’s advert and a much-needed sense of relief.

“I’m utterly hopeless at the whole gardening thing, unfortunately,” Loki admits as they stroll across the lawn to the rear of the house, heading past the small orchard with its apple and wild cherry trees. Blossom drips from laden branches, fluttering down to blanket the grass beneath like snowfall. “Aside from the odd potted plant or a quick tidy up with the lawnmower it’s all a bit beyond me. I work mostly from home, but my writing keeps me rather busy and I haven’t the time to keep on top of things, you see.”

Truth be told, he never would have chosen to live in a house needing so much maintenance were it not bequeathed to him in his aunt’s will and one of the only remaining things he has left of her. It’s beautiful, both the garden and the old stone-built house that sits at the centre of the plot, but very much in need of some love, care and attention.

He tells Thor this, skirting over the more uncomfortable parts of the story: that his already strained relationship with his family was left in ruins after his aunt gifted him the house, their thinly-veiled revulsion and their greed finally becoming intolerable. That he has few friends and no family left barring an occasional phone call with his sister, who lives hundreds of miles away and can hardly be considered close in the literal sense or otherwise.

It is what it is, Loki likes to tell himself. No use in being overly sentimental when it comes to such matters, nor dwelling on things which cannot be changed. He is rarely lonely, though he cannot help but feel it might be nice to have someone else around from time to time. Thor is easy to talk to, laid-back and cheerful, and Loki can easily imagine having him around the place.

Given the size of the garden and the extent of the sections that need fully clearing and re-planting, they come to an agreement that Thor will visit for a couple of afternoons per week at first and then take it from there.

“I’ll have it tidied up in no time,” Thor assures Loki before he leaves, his eyes creasing attractively at the corners when he smiles. “I’ve been told I’m pretty good with my hands.”

Loki, who despite his best intentions has been casting wistful glances at Thor’s hands along with the rest of him for the past half hour, doesn’t doubt it for a moment.

-❅-

Over the following weeks Loki learns more about Thor, little bits and pieces here and there when they talk in passing. Sometimes Loki will bring him something to drink — he has told Thor countless times to help himself to whatever he fancies from the kitchen, but he’s much too polite to do so — and they find themselves caught up in conversation for far longer than they intend.

He learns that Thor acquired much of what he knows from his mother, a talented florist; that Thor lives alone in the flat above her shop and helps out there as often as he can fit it in around his own gardening work. That he dreams of expanding his business one day into larger landscaping jobs, perhaps hiring a couple of people to help him in doing so, and he attends a business management course at the local college a couple of evenings per week in the hope of making that dream a reality.

The worst thing about Thor is that he’s just so persistently lovely, funny and sweet and so absolutely Loki’s type that it’s nigh on impossible not to feel quite smitten with him. To date, Loki has found in him exactly two flaws: the first is that Thor takes his tea no matter the quality with milk and a minimum of two sugars — in Loki’s eyes this is fundamentally unacceptable — and the second is that he turns up late from time to time, though he’s always so endearingly apologetic about it that Loki cannot bring himself to mind in the slightest and instead dismisses it with a wave of his hand and a never mind, these things happen.

It’s just a fleeting infatuation, Loki reasons with himself. How silly, to be so taken with someone he’s known for a mere couple of months and strictly off-limits in a romantic sense.

It’ll pass, he tells himself. In time.

-❅-

Loki's garden is, to put it simply, blooming. Thor has worked wonders just as he promised, and Loki rearranges his upstairs study to ensure the best view of the gardens while he’s writing. Of course, for a couple of afternoons per week much of Thor’s work takes place directly in Loki’s eyeline, but that’s entirely by chance. Honestly, Loki has hardly even noticed.

It’s a hot day, and Thor looks to be sweating quite intently, so Loki decides to take a break from the entire three sentences he’s typed in the last hour to bring him an iced lemonade. It’s only polite, after all.

-❅-

Later that afternoon, Loki is pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Thor calling his name from downstairs. Thor disappeared to work on the gardens to the side of the house some time ago, and by pure coincidence Loki has found himself to be far more productive on the writing front ever since.

Saving his drafted document, he heads for the study door so he can hear him better.

“Loki?” Thor calls again. “Is it alright if I quickly use the bathroom?”

“Of course,” Loki says. “Any ti— oh, Thor,” he exclaims, hurrying down the remainder of the stairs at the sight of him. “However did you manage to get yourself in such a state?”

The top portion of Thor’s t-shirt is snagged and has a rip through the sleeve, the blue cotton smeared with dirt and blood. His neck and his right arm are covered in tiny scratches.

“A mighty battle with the climbing rose bush,” Thor jokes, though he winces as he prods experimentally at a flurry of scratches above his collar. “I slipped on the stool when I was cutting it back. Caught myself with the pruning shears on the way down as well.”

He lifts his left arm to show off a bloody cut across his bicep, not overly deep but definitely in need of attention.

“Oh, darling,” Loki sighs, the endearment slipping out unthinkingly. He falters for a moment but proceeds to take Thor by the arm, leading him towards the downstairs loo. “Let’s get you seen to.”

He sits Thor down on the toilet seat, switching on the overhead light so he can see better. Rummaging through the cupboard under the sink, he successfully locates some antiseptic and cotton wool, getting to his knees between Thor’s feet before he can overthink it. He starts with the scratches on Thor’s right arm, working his way up until he reaches the edge of Thor’s sleeve.

“Um,” Thor says, “I’ll just — ” and Loki sits back on his heels so Thor can tug his t-shirt off over his head.

“I feel terrible about this,” Loki confesses as he carefully tends to the cuts on Thor’s torso, partly because he really does feel bad, and partly to keep from doing or saying anything embarrassing at the sight of Thor’s magnificent chest. “And your lovely t-shirt, Thor, it’s ruined. I owe you a new one; you’d never have had to climb up to prune the roses in the first place if I hadn’t let them get so wildly out of control.”

Thor shakes his head. “It was my fault,” he shrugs. “I wasn’t paying attention, don’t worry about it.”

The cut on his left arm must sting more than the others when Loki finally gets to it. Despite Loki cleaning him up as gently as he can manage, Thor sucks in a sharp breath through his nose and bites down on his bottom lip.

“Don’t hold back on my account,” Loki says mildly. “You can tell me to fuck off if it helps at all, I won’t be offended.”

Thor ducks his head with a smile as Loki applies a dressing over the wound with utmost concentration.

“What?” Loki asks him.

“Nothing. It’s just — I've never heard you swear before. You’re always so proper and posh. I don’t mean that in a bad way,” Thor tags on quickly.

“Oh?” Loki says, amused. “All finished; I imagine you’ll live to see another day if you keep your scuffles with the roses to a minimum.” He stands up to look over Thor properly, ensuring he’s cleaned up every injury to the best of his ability. “If anything,” he adds in a serious tone, “let this be a lesson to us in always keeping one’s bush carefully trimmed.”

The sound of Thor’s bright, surprised laughter is the best thing Loki’s heard in a long time, and he only wishes he had the wit to keep him laughing always.

“Noted,” Thor says.

-❅-

For all Thor brushed off the idea of Loki owing him anything, Loki nevertheless feels bad about the ruined t-shirt. A few days later he drives into town to grab coffee with an old friend and, once they’ve gone their separate ways, finds himself lingering outside shop windows on the walk back to his car, trying to decide whether it’d be an act of generosity or wholly inappropriate to buy something for Thor himself. He could just add a bit extra to Thor’s wages this week, but there’s something appealing about picking out something nice for him. Perhaps something a little more luxurious than Thor would usually buy for himself.

Going from shop to shop Loki browses for some time, not entirely sure he even knows what he’s looking for. He’s on the verge of giving up when a t-shirt on a mannequin catches his eye, designer with a price tag to match. It’s fairly understated, black with a V neck that could sit quite nicely on someone broad-shouldered. There’s a single tiny lightning bolt sewn into each sleeve with delicate gold thread, and the fabric feels beautifully indulgent when he runs his fingers over it. He isn’t entirely sure what draws him to it over anything else he’s seen, but he can imagine Thor wearing it and takes one from the shelf in what he hopes is a suitable size.

When the kindly middle-aged lady serving him at the till — Joy, per her name tag — asks if he’d like it gift-wrapped, he decides to on a whim for that extra touch. It looks stunning tied up in ribbon, presented in an attractive box.

“Spoiling someone, are we?” Joy asks him with a knowing smile.

“Something like that,” Loki agrees, thanking her as he leaves and hoping his flushed cheeks aren’t as obvious as they feel.

-❅-

Once home, Loki has second thoughts; removes the gift-wrap and bins it after deciding it’s a step too far and getting into a bit of a flap over the whole thing. In the end, when it comes to actually giving the gift to Thor, he decides to just go for it the next time Thor comes around, waiting until he’s about to leave for the day.

“I was feeling guilty over the incident with the roses,” Loki says by way of explanation as he hands the bag over. “I happened to be out shopping and thought I’d pick up a replacement for the t-shirt you ruined, nothing exciting I’m afraid, but — well. Anyway.”

“Loki, are you kidding me?” Thor says when he takes the t-shirt from its bag, brushing his thumb back and forth over the soft fabric. “This is — the one I ruined was just some old thing I threw on, this is amazing. It’s way too much.”

“I rather liked the design,” Loki says hurriedly, “but I can take it back if you’d prefer. It’s not an issue.”

“I love it,” Thor says gratefully, reverently, and lets Loki do no such thing.

-❅-

A couple of weeks later, Loki is sat enjoying a glass of wine in front of the television when his phone buzzes. It’s a message from Thor — unusual for this time of night — and when he opens it he finds Thor has sent him a selfie, all dressed up for a night out and wearing the t-shirt Loki gave him.

Looks great, thanks Loki reads the message underneath, accompanied by a thumbs-up emoji.

Loki feels a thrum of guilty pleasure at the sight of him, surprised by just how much some possessive part of himself likes seeing Thor in something he picked out for him. Thor is inconceivably gorgeous, his gaze soft and his smile warm for the camera, and for once Loki is glad Thor isn’t here in person because he finds himself quite lost for words.

It suits you, he types eventually, settling for the option that feels safest while still being complimentary. Going somewhere nice?

A friend’s birthday, a few of us going out for drinks

Loki smiles, feeling a rush of affection at the thought of Thor going out and enjoying himself like he deserves to; happy and carefree and lovely beyond words.

Wonderful. Have fun :) he sends in response.

Thor sends him three winking emojis in return, and nothing more.

If some fortunate stranger has the pleasure of taking that t-shirt off Thor tonight, Loki thinks, he can only hope they handle the garment and the boy beneath it with all the tender care they deserve.

-❅-

Mid-September brings a chilly spell that’s promptly followed by a week of sticky, cloying heat unusual for the time of year. It feels as if summer isn’t quite ready to let go yet, gifting them with one last bloom of sunshine before the nights draw in further and autumn arrives for good.

The sight of Thor tending to the garden on his knees and sweating through another of his overly-tight t-shirts is too much for anyone to handle, Loki reasons, and so he sequesters himself away in a corner of his study to throw himself wholeheartedly into his writing. It’s been a busy week and he’s been out of the house more than usual attending meetings and conferences, so a day of peace and quiet and getting through his lengthy to-do list feels like just what he needs.

He’s too engrossed in his work to notice the clouds darkening the sky as the afternoon goes on, and it isn’t until rain starts to patter against the window pane that it finally draws his attention. A thunderstorm will do the world of good to ease the hot and humid weather, he thinks, as well as providing a spot of water for the garden. And then he remembers: Thor.

“Thor!” Loki calls out, throwing open the study’s window. “Come inside before you catch your death.”

“It's only a bit of rain,” Thor shouts back. “I quite enjoy a storm.”

No sooner than the words leave his mouth does the rain pick up even harder, turning truly torrential.

“You can admire it from indoors,” Loki tells him firmly, and Thor relents with a sheepish smile.

It becomes apparent just how soaked through Thor is when he steps through the front door, dripping from head to toe.

“Probably not the best idea I’ve had, staying out in that,” Thor admits as a puddle slowly forms at his feet.

“You don’t say,” Loki sighs. “Wait there.”

He heads upstairs to find Thor a towel for his hair as well as some dry clothes. Even the largest of Loki’s t-shirts is likely to be a bit on the small side, albeit serviceable at a push, but they are at least about the same height so a pair of jogging bottoms with a bit of stretch to them should suit him just fine.

Humming to himself, Loki puts the kettle on in the kitchen while Thor goes upstairs to change, steam rising to mist the window panes. When Thor returns, wet clothes bundled and tucked under one arm, Loki has him drape them over the radiator to give them the opportunity to dry out for a while.

The waistband of Thor’s boxer briefs peeks out from inside his wet jeans when he hangs them up, drawing Loki’s eye. Thor’s wearing nothing beneath his clothes — Loki’s clothes, every part of him wrapped up in Loki — and the thought of it stokes a fire at Loki’s core. It takes considerable effort not to stare at the soft swell of Thor’s cock where fabric clings in all the right places. Loki leans over the kitchen table on his elbows, his mug seeping warmth into his palms, and stares at Thor’s mouth instead; wonders if he tastes like Darjeeling tea with a splash of milk, sweet from the spoonfuls of sugar he’s heaped into it.

“Loki?” Thor asks, breaking Loki out of his haze, and only then does Loki realise Thor has tried several times to get his attention.

“Sorry?”

“Never mind,” Thor says, a smile at the corner of his mouth. Loki could kick himself for being so obvious. “But on another subject, there’s something I’ve been meaning to mention,” Thor adds, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. “Once the weather changes there won’t be as much work to do on the garden, so you might not want me to come round twice a week anymore. I mean, it’s no problem, I don’t mind being here twice obviously, but there won’t really be enough to fill my time.”

“I've been thinking of getting a few more indoor plants,” Loki blurts out before he can think too much about it.

Thor beams at him, radiant.

-❅-

Loki’s rash decision to fill his house with frankly ridiculous volumes of flowers and potted plants is simultaneously the best and worst decision he could have made. If he had any hope previously of getting over his most inconvenient infatuation, those hopes are truly dashed now Thor is inside the house more than he’s outside of it when working. They inevitably gravitate towards one another and end up spending more time together than ever before.

One afternoon Thor arrives in an even brighter mood than usual which Loki soon discovers is down to him receiving some overwhelmingly positive exam results for his business course that very morning. The next day, Loki makes him a card to congratulate him; it’s something he’s long enjoyed doing for people when he gets the opportunity, a way to be creative in a totally different way to writing. Besides, it only takes an hour or so, give or take the two hours it takes to drive to the shops and back for additional crafting supplies. Once done, Loki slips a generous amount of cash inside and gives it to Thor the next time he sees him.

On opening the envelope, Thor traces a finger over the front of the card like it’s the most wonderful piece of art he’s ever had the fortune of seeing as opposed to some folded paper, a few words of calligraphy and some carefully applied glitter.

“God, Loki, thank you,” Thor says when he opens the card up, taken aback. “Are you sure? You really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” Loki says, relieved he hasn’t overstepped the mark or caused offense. “You’ve worked hard, on your exam and around here. The garden and the houseplants are looking fabulous, so consider it a bonus of sorts. You deserve it.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” Thor says, still looking quite stunned.

Slipping the handmade card back into its envelope, he tucks it carefully inside his coat pocket like it’s just as precious and worth preserving as the money it holds inside.

-❅-

The dreaded question of what Loki will be doing over the holiday period: inevitable, given Christmas is less than a month away, and yet he never quite knows how best to answer.

“Loki,” Thor says in disbelief from where he’s sat at the kitchen table arranging a colourful and festive-themed bouquet in a chipped glass vase. “You can’t. It’s just not right.”

Loki picks up their empty mugs, wanting something to occupy his hands; sets them in the sink and turns around to lean up against the worktop, casual as you please. Braces himself internally for the inevitable questions he has no desire to answer.

“There’s nothing wrong with celebrating Christmas alone,” Loki says lightly. “It’s perfectly reasonable. Quite pleasant, actually.”

“But it’s Christmas. A time for get-togethers and what have you. Which means — ” Thor says, brandishing a red carnation in Loki’s direction for emphasis, “ — you have to let me come over in the evening to give you your present.”

Loki relaxes somewhat. Most people pry further, or express doubt or pity at his preference to enjoy the day in his own, quiet way. Thor has clearly pieced together the most pertinent parts of Loki’s family history, and whatever he might think of it he at least has the decency to keep it to himself.

“Oh, I do, do I?” Loki says, unable to keep himself from smiling. “I suppose it would be nice to exchange gifts on the day itself. And as for the rest of the day, I can assure you I’ll find it quite satisfactory. I like my own company.”

“I like your company too,” Thor grins, charming and cocky and just a little bit flirtatious.

It’s frightfully inconvenient that he so quickly learned how to lure Loki into giving into his demands, Loki thinks. How can he possibly say no to that face?

“Are you doing anything nice on boxing day?” Loki asks, continuing the conversation as he tidies round the kitchen and opens the fridge in search of food. He’ll head back upstairs to work in a few minutes, he tells himself for the umpteenth time. Not yet. Later.

“Turning twenty-four,” says Thor.

Loki stops in his tracks, looking back over his shoulder. “Really?” he tuts. “How inconsiderate of you, Thor, being born at Christmas time. Don’t you think people have enough to think about without having to celebrate your birth and buy you yet more presents? The shops are a nightmare this time of year.”

He grabs himself a pot of blueberries, bumping the fridge door closed with his hip.

“You do have to get me a birthday gift and a Christmas gift,” Thor says. “Combined presents are a cop out.”

“I’d better get thinking of ideas, then,” Loki says, already considering his options.

“I’m only joking,” Thor says earnestly. “You shouldn’t get me anything."

Loki is quiet for a moment, not quite meeting Thor’s gaze. “I do adore giving you gifts, you know,” he admits. “I’d gladly do so often. Terribly selfish of me, really, but it seems I just can’t help myself.”

“Well in that case, don’t let me stop you,” Thor grins, turning his attention back to the array of cut flowers and berry sprigs he’s spread across the table. “Hey, did you do anything fun when you turned twenty-four? Or had birthdays not been invented back then?”

Scowling, Loki throws a blueberry at him and feels ever so satisfied when it bounces neatly off the side of Thor’s head.

“Loki!” Thor laughs.

“You absolutely deserved that, you horrid creature,” Loki sniffs.

He heads for the door, pausing at the threshold to toss another blueberry in Thor’s direction just for good measure. Thor catches it in his hand and pops it into his mouth, smirking as he does so.

Absolutely intolerable.

-❅-

Loki finds himself restless when Christmas day comes around, the day dragging slowly onward as he counts the hours to Thor’s six o’ clock arrival. He sees Thor all the time, he tells himself, feeling foolish for just how much he’s been looking forward to this along with the constant butterflies in his stomach. It’s not even the first time he’s given Thor a gift, though it will be the first time he gets one in return. It just feels different somehow, knowing Thor is coming over by choice and purely as a friend with no work to distract them.

Thor arrives at one minute to six, and the sound of his car pulling into the driveway sends Loki’s stomach-butterflies into a frenzy. He opens the front door just as Thor reaches it and Thor grins at him, his cheeks flushed pink with the cold and a gift-wrapped box tucked into the crook of his elbow. There’s no snow on the ground but plenty of glittering ice, the freezing air crisp with it. He looks awfully cosy in a thick woollen jumper, a deep red scarf draped around his neck to stave off the chill, and when he unwinds it and deposits it over a hook in the hallway Loki is startled by just how much Thor’s presence makes the house feel more like home.

Together they head into the living room, snug and welcoming with its roaring fire and rustic furniture. The lights on the Christmas tree cast twinkling patterns on the walls, imbuing the room with a soft glow.

Loki pours them each a drink — non-alcoholic, since Thor is driving — and takes a seat on the comfortable old sofa. Thor sits alongside him, mirroring his position, close enough that their knees almost touch.

“Have you had a good day?” Loki asks him quietly. It feels so wonderfully, dangerously intimate, to have Thor so close and to be the sole focus of his attention.

“Yeah,” Thor sighs, looking so content that Loki wants to wrap him up in a blanket and keep him looking that way forever. “It’s been really nice.”

Thor talks for a while about what he’s been up to over the last few days, recounting all manner of tales. His family and friends are a constant source of intrigue for Loki, since they always seem to be involved in one adventure or another, and he could listen to Thor’s stories for hours if given the chance.

“ — so anyway, my grandma insisted I wear my new jumper when I came over to see you. I couldn’t say no seeing as she knitted it herself, she was so excited when I put it on,” Thor says, laughing.

How one person can be so adorable is quite beyond Loki; whenever he thinks Thor couldn’t possibly be more perfect, he manages to do or say something that has Loki falling for him all the more. He wonders, and not for the first time, whether the universe deliberately seeks to test him: it’s beginning to look like the only plausible explanation.

“Well, I think it’s charming,” Loki says instead, pushing aside his internal meltdown for the moment. “Maroon is definitely your colour. And, speaking of gifts, I’ve yet to give you yours.”

Thor’s eyes light up, and Loki can’t help but smile as he heads over to the Christmas tree to fetch Thor’s gift from beneath it.

“Wait,” Thor says just as Loki takes a seat again. “Mine first.”

“Goodness, so demanding,” Loki exclaims, setting his present for Thor aside with a shake of his head. He takes the package Thor offers him and carefully peels back the glossy wrapping paper, finding there are actually two gifts inside: a box containing a beautiful glass vase, plus some of Loki’s favourite chocolates. “Oh, Thor,” he says, admiring the image of the vase on its box. “It’s just what we need, how splendid. Thank you. And these,” he muses, touching the tray of chocolates, “you know me too well.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Thor says. “I hoped you would.”

Handing Thor his gift, it occurs to Loki that it’s the first time he’s had the pleasure of seeing Thor open something that’s been wrapped. Unlike Loki’s delicate unfolding of Thor’s wrapping paper, Thor tears into his present with enthusiasm, cheerfully sending scraps of paper fluttering to the floor. Once finished, he looks genuinely bewildered at the brand new laptop he finds within.

“You mentioned you were having trouble with yours,” Loki says. “I know how much you need it for managing your work, not to mention for college. I hope this one is a bit more reliable.”

Thor continues staring down at the laptop, not saying a word. Then, very carefully, he sets it down on the sofa and reaches over to pull Loki into a hug.

“Thank you,” Thor mumbles into Loki’s collar. “This means so fucking much to me, Lo.”

“You’re very welcome,” Loki murmurs, finally recovering from his initial surprise enough to return the hug properly.

Thor clings to him for a few seconds, hands fisted in Loki’s shirt. Drawing back to put only a small amount of space between them, he slides one warm palm around to cup the back of Loki’s neck; sways close again to rest his forehead against Loki’s, eyes fluttering closed.

“Loki,” Thor says, little more than whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

It feels as if Loki’s heart leaps and plummets at once, leaving him reeling. How brave Thor is, to lay bare his heart and ask for this.

Sitting back to look him in the eye, Loki rests his palm against Thor’s soft cheek; grazes his thumb slowly over Thor’s bottom lip, feeling how plush it is. Every tender act only makes it harder to find the words he needs, yet pulling away feels like an impossibility.

“Thor,” he says gently, his chest tight with longing. “We can’t.”

Thor’s eyes are so breathtakingly blue, and for a moment they’re filled with an aching sadness that’s quickly blinked back to be replaced by a horribly blank expression Loki’s never seen on him before.

“I think I know what you’re going to say,” Thor says quietly, before Loki has the opportunity. “But I am an adult, Loki.” He doesn’t sound angry, nor does he look it; merely tired. Hurting. Perhaps he was expecting this, and he’s even braver than Loki could have imagined. “I know I’m younger than you, but I am capable of making decisions for myself.”

“I know,” Loki assures him. “You are, of course you are. But you don’t realise how young you are at twenty-three until, well — until you’re not anymore.” Thor takes a slow breath, in and out, quiet for a moment like he’s unsure what to make of that. Eventually he gives a small nod like perhaps he half-understands. “I’d never forgive myself if we took this further and I ended up being someone you regret," Loki continues. "And I have to be sure you realise — the gifts, and the money — you don’t owe me anything, Thor. Not one thing.”

“I know,” Thor says. “Lo, I know it’s not like that. And it’s not like you’re some shitty boss taking advantage, I work for myself. I have other clients. I don’t need the gifts or the money, they’re just — nice to have sometimes. To get. From you.”

“Thor,” Loki says, taking Thor’s hand and giving it a squeeze. Thor swallows, goes still for a moment and then squeezes back. “It’s not — it’s not a ‘no’ forever, necessarily. Just for now. Promise me you’ll at least give it some thought, darling. Go home and take some time to think it through properly. You need to be sure this is what you really want.”

Thor softens a little at the endearment and further still when Loki draws his hand to his lips, brushing a kiss over his knuckles as sweetly as he wishes he could claim his mouth.

“You have no idea,” Loki murmurs, Thor’s hand still warm in his, “how badly I want to say yes. Please don’t doubt that in the slightest.” Thor gives him the tiniest smile at that, just a flicker at the corner of his mouth, but it’s enough.

Reluctantly breaking apart, Loki passes Thor his laptop. He takes Thor’s other hand in his own again and leads him through to the hallway, silently taking Thor’s scarf from its hook and carefully wrapping him up in it to keep him safe from the cold.

Loki watches from the doorway as Thor heads back to his car, an ache inside him that just won’t ease. Thor pulls open the car door, about to get in, but hesitates at the last second and looks back at Loki.

“I’m not doing anything tomorrow,” he says. “Everyone’s always too busy with Christmas stuff for me to bother making birthday plans on the day. Did you want to come to mine for a bit in the evening? It seems unfair I’ve been here a million times and you’ve never even been to the flat. Just to talk and hang out, or whatever you want. Please?”

Loki looks at Thor’s pleading eyes and his faltering smile and can’t find it in himself to deny him this.

“Of course,” he promises. “I’d like that a lot.”

 Thor shuts his door, and Loki shuts his, and that’s that.

-❅-

There’s a knock at that same door just ten minutes later. Loki abandons his ongoing commitment to sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands, trying and failing to stave off a headache, to get up and tentatively answer it. He is both surprised and not surprised in the least to find Thor standing on his doorstep.

“I thought about it,” Thor says decisively. “In the car. A lot.”

“Did you even drive away?” Loki asks incredulously.

“No,” says Thor. “I was thinking.”

Exasperated, Loki fixes him with a look, aiming for disapproving but too brimming with affection to regard him with anything less than fondness. Thor waits patiently for Loki to say something, though he also appears to be fighting the urge to smile at Loki’s utter inability to be stern with him.

Their breath clouds the air, and Loki supresses a shiver as the night-time chill steals warmth from the hallway.

“Come inside,” Loki sighs at last, “you silly, foolish boy. It’s freezing.”

Thor gives him a grateful little smile as Loki steps aside to let him in.

“It’s not like I never thought about it before today, Lo,” he says softly. “I thought I was being pretty obvious.”

Loki swallows, shutting the door behind them. “How long?” he asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

“I don’t know,” Thor says, chewing at his lip. “Months? Mostly after you cleaned me up when I injured myself, you were so sweet to me. And funny. God, I sound like a fucking idiot; you know what I mean. Since then it just became — more.”

It’s clear from the way Thor looks at him, cautious and hopeful, that he wants to know the same of Loki but doesn’t dare ask.

“A while,” Loki offers reluctantly. He knows as soon as he says it that he ought to tell the truth in its entirety, however difficult. Thor deserves nothing less. “I was utterly besotted with you from the moment we met, I suppose. If I’m being honest.”

He feels like the fight’s gone out of him and he’s running out of reasons: he wants this, and Thor wants this, and Thor is right here in front of Loki looking at him like he’s the only thing that matters. The rest, they can figure out along the way.

“You thought I was hot the first time you saw me?” Thor says, light and teasing and looking terribly pleased with himself.

“God, shut up,” Loki says, on the verge of laughter.

Thor’s still grinning when Loki steps right up to him and kisses him, making for a laughably awkward but nevertheless enjoyable first few seconds. Thor then finally gets a hold of himself, backs Loki up against the wall quite firmly and proceeds to kiss him back with a fervent eagerness that makes Loki feel quite weak at the knees.

“You like giving me gifts,” Thor says breathlessly, momentarily getting distracted and sucking teasingly at Loki’s bottom lip. “Is it, like, a sugar daddy thing?”

Truthfully, Loki’s never thought to put a label on it. It’s also remarkably difficult to think in any kind of a logical fashion when Thor’s tongue is in his mouth.

“I’m not sure,” Loki says when Thor finally lets him up for air. “Yes? Unless you’re not into that, in which case it’s not. Whatever you want.”

“I’m into it,” Thor says, the words catching in his throat when Loki slips one hand up the front of his jumper to feel him up. “Really, really into it. I like it when you take care of me.”

“I want to spoil you and give you things and — fuck — tell you how good you’re being,” Loki gasps, struggling slightly with coherency now Thor’s kissing and sucking at the most tender part of his neck. He’ll surely leave a mark, and Loki can’t bring himself to care one bit. “Is that okay?”

“Yes,” Thor says a little wildly.

He leans his weight into Loki like he needs to be as close as possible, his hands at Loki’s waist and the insistent press of his erection against Loki’s hip like an electric current of arousal he can feel right down to his toes.

“There you go,” Loki murmurs against his mouth, one hand at the small of Thor’s back as he encourages him to roll their hips together. “Oh, sweetheart, you feel just perfect.”

Loki slides one hand into Thor’s hair, gives an experimental little tug and earns himself an undeniably positive sound in response. Pulls harder and Thor all but whines into the kiss, rubbing up against Loki like he can’t help himself.

Thor braces one hand on the wall, his breath hot against Loki’s over sensitised skin when he buries his face against Loki’s neck.

“God, you smell so good,” he groans. “I really need you to fuck me.”

Loki’s breath leaves him in a rush. God, what he wouldn’t give to be inside him already.

Thor sets his teeth to Loki’s neck and holds him firmly in place by the hips; fits his cock right up against Loki’s and thrusts up against him in one achingly slow movement that’s terribly unhelpful when Loki’s trying to make sensible adult decisions.

Every part of him wants to throw caution to the wind and take Thor to bed immediately, but some infuriatingly rational part of his brain tells him they still ought to spend the night apart to cool off and think things over. Equally, there’s something intoxicating about waiting for it. Prolonging the pleasure.

That, and seeing how obedient and willing Thor can be for him if asked.

“I know you do, darling,” Loki says when he finally finds the willpower, gently encouraging Thor back to put scant space between them and taking Thor’s face between his hands. He kisses him softly, easy and sweet, slowing things down. Waits until their breathing has slowed somewhat, some of the fire giving way to a simmering heat. “Tomorrow I have every intention of it, if that’s what you want. But for tonight I need you to wait and be patient. Can you do that for me?”

Thor looks thoroughly torn between disappointment at being denied what he wants so badly and the desire to earn Loki’s praise by doing as he’s told.

“Alright,” Thor agrees at last, the latter winning out. “I can wait.”

“Good boy,” Loki murmurs. He brushes their lips together one last time, the tiniest buzz of friction.

Thor makes a bitten-back whimper of a sound in response to that which almost has Loki ignoring everything he’s just said to fuck him anyway; it takes a monumental amount of effort just to keep himself from unzipping his jeans.

“Please go home,” Loki begs of him, very much amused. “Before I change my mind.”

Smiling, still a little dazed-looking, Thor does just as he’s asked and opens the door, only to stop in his tracks on the step outside like he’s only just processed Loki’s phrasing. “Wait, I can still change your mind?”

“Go.” Loki says, and Thor does so, laughing and flushed, his clothes rumpled from the sex they very nearly had but didn’t.

Loki resists the urge to take him by the wrist and pull him back inside to finish what they started, albeit only just; knows without a doubt that this of all things is worth waiting for.

-❅-

Chapter Text

Loki makes it only as far as the sofa once Thor has driven away, undoing his jeans enough to draw his cock out and not bothering to undress any further. The lingering memory of Thor’s body against his has him more worked up than he can remember being in a long time, left hard and wanting from the moment Thor first pressed him up against the wall and kissed him so keenly.

Still, Loki has never been one to enjoy rushing things needlessly: the desperation and slow build of pleasure feels almost as good as the eventual relief. He’s still teasing himself, lost in the heady, intoxicating sensation of it, when his phone vibrates against his thigh. It startles him for a moment before he fumbles it from his pocket to open the message.

It’s from Thor, predictably, though the photo Thor has sent him is rather more surprising. He’s lying on his bed and naked but for his boxer briefs, which realistically might as well be absent for all the modesty they’re granting and yet somehow only serve to make the image hotter.

Thor’s cock strains at the sheer fabric, the head visible above the waistband. The full length of him is too much to be contained now that he’s fully hard. It’s so thick and heavy-looking, rosy and wet-glossed at the tip, and Loki’s mouth waters at the sight of him.

Can I come yet reads the accompanying message.

Please

The fact Thor has chosen to put the decision in Loki’s hands, as it were, makes his pulse race and his body flush hotter all over. The idea of it is unexpected and mind-blowingly arousing.

Not yet darling Loki replies, his thumb hovering over the buttons on his phone as his mind races with possibilities.

Soon. You’re doing ever so well

Send me a video? Just a few seconds, if you want to

Show me how you like to stroke that gorgeous cock of yours

Thor immediately sends a smiling emoji and a winking emoji in response, which Loki takes for assent. The minute or so of silence that follows, however, borders on torturous.

When Loki’s phone finally buzzes his stomach leaps in anticipation, cock twitching in his hand where he’s still idly stroking it. He gives it a squeeze as he opens the video to watch.

The camerawork is somewhat shaky, endearingly so, a fact that’s not exactly surprising since the hand that isn’t holding Thor’s phone is firmly wrapped around his erection. The briefs have gone, giving Loki an unobstructed view of Thor’s cock and the cut of his hipbones. Loki watches, captivated, as Thor slowly strokes his hand up the length of his cock. The audio picks up Thor panting softly, his breath catching as he slides his foreskin up over the head and rubs teasing little circles with the pad of his thumb. Precome pools and dribbles over onto his belly as he draws his hand back down.

Thor swears softly under his breath when his cock flexes in his grip, some unspoken thought or unexpected sensation sending blood rushing south. He repeats the motion again, even slower this time and gripping a little harder, before the video cuts out.

Loki can’t resist watching it again immediately, pulling his hand over his cock in an unfocused rhythm. He can feel his orgasm beginning to build with purpose after teasing himself for so long and eases off again before he reaches the point of no return.

Lovely Loki replies.

My gorgeous boy

Thank you

The messages show up as read almost immediately. Loki has a brief moment of indecision before he decides to send Thor a photo of himself to even the score, wanting to show him just how much of an effect he’s having. He tugs his shirt up to show a sliver of skin, his fingers teasing along the length of his cock where it curves stiffly against his belly. He sends the photo before he can change his mind and receives a series of messages in response.

Lo!

God I want to suck you off so fucking much

Use my mouth to get off

I promise I’ll be good

Loki reads his way through each one as they arrive, so turned on he’s lightheaded with it. God, the number of times Loki has thought about it, imagined doing just that: the feeling of Thor’s hair like silk between his fingers, the slick heat of his mouth as Loki feeds him his cock and gives gentle encouragement until Thor is sweet and pliant enough for Loki to fuck his throat.

Normally the fantasy is accompanied by a glimmer of guilt and the persistent voice in the back of his mind that tells him they can never, ever have this. Now, though, he allows his thoughts to linger in ways he’s never allowed them to before. It’s so within reach now, everything he’s wanted and tried to avoid wanting, that it he feels as if he could shake apart with how badly he needs it.

I know you will, Loki assures him.

Always so good for me Thor

Is that what you were thinking about during the video?

Getting on your knees for me and letting me have your pretty mouth

Thor takes his time coming up with a response, going back and forth between typing and not. Loki hopes he hasn’t lost his nerve.

It was actually something else, Thor replies eventually.

I imagined after we kissed earlier you took me through to the kitchen

Fucked me hard bent over the table

I’d let you have me however you want

Dear god, Loki thinks: Thor is certain to be the death of him. He draws his fingers teasingly over his stomach and doesn’t dare touch his cock for fear of coming within seconds of doing so. His hips twitch in response to Thor’s words regardless, seeking stimulation.

How I adore your imagination, Loki says in return.

But darling, if I hadn’t sent you home we’d never have made it to the kitchen

I’d have had you on your hands and knees right there in the hallway

Mere seconds after Loki presses send, Thor fires back a response, lightning-quick this time.

Fuck Loki please

How lovely Thor is when he’s begging: so good and so desperate not to be at the same time, balancing on the brink. Eager to please even when he wants to come so badly it hurts.

Loki can only imagine how much more exquisite it will be to experience in person. Nevertheless, as good as it feels right now, there’s only so long that he can keep himself from giving Thor what he wants.

You can come for me sweetheart. You’ve done so well

But send a photo, I want to see the mess you’ve made

The picture that arrives a short time later certainly doesn’t disappoint. Thor’s cock shines obscenely where he’s run a come-slick hand over it, his fingers now idly trailing through the streaks of white painting his stomach and chest as he shows himself off for the camera.

Taking himself in hand again, Loki takes one look at him, quickens the movement of his wrist and comes all over himself so hard it leaves him gasping, vision blurring as he rides out each exquisite pulse of pleasure. Chest heaving, feeling utterly wrung out, he wipes his hand on his stained shirt and picks up his phone again where he’s dropped it.

Perfect he types with a still-trembling hand when he finally finds himself able to.

So gorgeous. I’ll see you tomorrow darling

Thor sends him a two-word response — can't wait — followed by a heart, followed by an emoji that’s smiling just as much as Loki is.

-❅-

Chapter Text

Thor’s flat is warm, charmingly small and utterly brimming with flowers. The living room is a stunning array of colour, vases and pots and trailing leaves aplenty, and the air smells beautifully sweet when Loki steps inside.

“It’s not much,” Thor says hesitantly, looking around the room. He’s wearing the t-shirt Loki bought for him all those months ago, and Loki adores him all the more for it. “Or a bit much, depending on how you look at it,” he adds. “I have a habit of bringing flowers up from the shop when they’re on their way out or need a bit of TLC.”

Setting Thor’s birthday gift down on the table by the door, Loki shrugs out of his coat and takes off his shoes, trying his utmost not to laugh at the way Thor is clearly eyeing up his present but trying so very earnestly to pretend he hasn’t seen it yet.

“I think it’s absolutely wonderful,” Loki assures him. “You have a beautiful home, Thor. Though I must say I’m surprised — all these flowers yet no mistletoe in sight? Such a lack of festive clichés, darling.”

Thor shrugs, casually leaning up against the wall with a cocksure grin Loki wants to kiss from his mouth. “I didn’t think you’d need any encouragement.”

It’s a bold assumption, and all too accurate. Chuckling, Loki takes Thor by the hips and brushes their mouths together with a teasing lightness that quickly turns into more. When he licks delicately at the swell of Thor’s bottom lip Thor opens up for him with a groan, practically melting into him as he lets Loki claim his mouth as he sees fit.

Loki not only has Thor but he also has time, a marvellous combination. They kiss for long minutes, each unwilling to be the first to pull away from this gentle exploration. Eventually, his thoughts turning to the rest of the evening and everything else they might enjoy, Loki slows things down and presses a final kiss to Thor’s reddened mouth.

“Happy birthday,” Loki murmurs as they part, besotted with him and unable to stop smiling about it.

“Thanks,” Thor says, one strong arm wrapped around Loki’s waist to keep him close. He slips his other hand under the front of Loki’s shirt and hooks the tips of his fingers into the waistband of Loki’s trousers; flicks his thumb idly back and forth over the button there, already angling for more despite his innocent expression.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” Loki says, arching one eyebrow as he loops his arms around Thor’s neck. “But darling, I’d appreciate it if you could hold off on being such a dreadfully distracting cock tease until I’ve at least had the opportunity to give you your birthday present.”

Thor begins trailing kisses up Loki’s neck with an amused little hum, his breath hot against Loki’s ear.

“Is my present that I finally get to suck you off? Because that’s what I want more than anything.”

Loki shivers, his stomach flipping over with excitement despite himself. He has plans for their evening should Thor be willing, and he intends on sticking to them even if Thor is doing his very best to lead him astray. Plans which do in fact include Thor’s mouth on his cock, just — not yet.

“Have patience,” Loki admonishes, somewhat breathier than he’d aimed for. “Or you’ll be getting nothing at all.”

It’s a lie so blatant he’s sure Thor will call him out on it, laugh it off and find some further way to tease him. Instead, Thor takes a step back to put space between them and very deliberately places both of his hands behind his back, looking intently at Loki for further instruction. He’s so sweetly submissive to Loki’s whims, even if there is a hint of a smirk on his lips — certain, Loki’s sure, of the effect he’s having — that Loki quite fancies laying him out on the floor where they are, sucking Thor’s cock until his jaw aches as a well-deserved reward before letting Thor see to him in return.

“Well aren’t you being good?” Loki says thoughtfully, not wavering from his plans despite the temptation to do so. “Deserving of being spoiled, no doubt.”

He picks up Thor’s gift from the side table and hands it to him with a knowing look. Smiling, Thor leads him further into the living room and has Loki take a seat in the armchair. Thor sinks to his knees by Loki’s feet, tucking his legs beneath himself and getting comfortable.

“Can I sit here while I open it?” Thor asks, uncertain in a way Loki rarely sees him. It is, like everything else about him, terribly endearing.

“Of course,” Loki says, indulgent and full of warmth as he runs his fingers through Thor’s hair and gently strokes his cheek. All the better to dote on him from here.

Satisfied, Thor turns his attention to the package on his knee, tearing the wrapping from it to reveal a garment and a small rectangular box within. He gives the box a curious look before setting it aside, first unfolding the bundle of soft grey cashmere.

“It’s not half so lovely as the one your grandmother gave you, I’m afraid, but I’d already bought this one,” Loki says as Thor spreads the jumper out across his lap and strokes his palm appreciatively over the luxurious fabric. “One can never have too many though, surely? Not at this time of year.”

“Definitely not,” Thor agrees, looking as delighted with his gift as Loki had hoped. “I love it, thank you.”

Neatly folding the jumper back up, Thor sets it down atop the remnants of the wrapping paper and picks up the small box instead. Opening it reveals a key, which he regards thoughtfully before looking up at Loki with a curious little smile.

“I know it’s early days,” Loki says carefully, “but you’re at the house often and I want you to feel welcome there even if I’m otherwise engaged. Did you know I’ve somehow acquired a ridiculous number of plants in recent months? I was hoping you’d keep me on your books if that’s alright with you; I assure you I can pay you quite handsomely, amongst other rewards.”

“You do have a lot more houseplants than the average person,” Thor agrees, turning the key over in his palm.

“And I do adore them, don’t get me wrong,” Loki says. “They’re absolutely lovely, of course, but — I must confess, I bought most of them merely so I could keep you around as often as I could.”

“I know,” Thor laughs, slipping the key back inside its box. “I worked that one out pretty quickly.”

“Did you?” Loki says, his voice low and amused as he touches gentle fingertips to Thor’s chin, tipping it towards him so he might admire his lovely face. Thor blinks up at him, passive and sweet. “Clever boy.”

The mood shifts again somewhat, Thor’s eyes on his going darker, a little hazy. Thor moves to kneel directly in front of him, his hands sliding up over Loki’s knees to rest on his thighs.

“I want to thank you properly,” Thor says, quiet and deliberate. “For my presents.”

“Is that so?” Loki muses. He’s careful to keep his tone even, nonchalant despite the way his body reacts and his heart pounds against his ribcage. “Take your t-shirt off, darling, and put your hands behind your back again. No touching for now, me or yourself.”

Thor exhales unsteadily, his breathing picking up noticeably. Eye contact unwavering, he tugs the t-shirt off over his head and tosses it to one side before clasping his hands at the small of his back and awaiting further instruction.

Loki takes his time just looking, drinking in the sight of him the way he’s wanted to for so long and yet always denied himself. Thor shifts in place, impatient even as he’s trying not to be.

“Look at you,” Loki says lightly, dragging his gaze down to where Thor is very clearly hard in his jeans and then back up to his face. “So worked up already and I’m not even touching you yet. What’s gotten you so excited, darling?”

Thor swallows, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. There’s a gorgeous flush of arousal in his cheeks, creeping down his neck.

“You,” Thor says, his tone heated. “Looking at me like you want to fuck me. The thought of sucking your cock and swallowing your come. Imagining how good it’s going to feel when you fuck me later.”

“Mm, that’s quite the list,” Loki agrees, enjoying his candidness. “We’ll get to the last part. For now, I believe you wanted to thank me?”

He almost goes to unfasten his trousers but changes his mind at the last moment, relaxing back into the armchair with his hands on the armrests instead. He gives Thor a look to prompt him into action, no words needed.

Thor looks up at him, all too eager, and runs his palms further along Loki’s thighs until his fingers almost reach his hips. He doesn’t go straight for the fastenings on Loki’s trousers, as Loki expects, instead laying his cheek on Loki’s lap with a content little sigh. Loki plays with Thor’s hair, gently entwining it around his fingers, and Thor moves higher; rubs his cheek against Loki’s cock where he’s half hard, a delicious tug of sensation.

“Back to teasing, are we?” Loki asks softly, his voice tight in his throat, running the tip of his thumb around the edge of Thor’s ear.

Thor drags his cheek against him again before turning to mouth at Loki’s erection through his trousers. His breath comes in hot gusts through the fabric, dampening it until it clings to his cockhead.

“Fuck,” Loki breathes. “Good boy.”

Thor pulls back then to unbutton Loki’s trousers, exhaling softly when he realises Loki isn’t wearing anything underneath; Loki had, after all, planned on this. He draws Loki’s cock out with a look of longing, his breath ruffling the tails of Loki’s shirt and creating an unexpected flutter of sensation against Loki’s cock that has him biting back a groan.

“Go slowly, darling,” Loki says gently. “I want to enjoy you properly. And if it’s too much — you must tell me, understood?”

Thor nods, his eyes briefly flitting up to meet Loki’s and then fluttering closed as he returns to the task at hand. He’s gentle to start, taking Loki into his mouth and giving gentle, rhythmic sucks as Loki hardens further. His hands stay on Loki’s knees, the velvet heat of his mouth the only thing Loki can focus on.

“Perfect,” Loki says, his fingers still toying with Thor’s hair. “You’re so good at this, Thor.”

Emboldened by Loki’s praise Thor resettles his weight on his knees and wraps his fingers around the base of Loki’s cock, pulling him off slowly as he takes it increasingly deeper. He’s deliberately a bit sloppy with it, reacting to Loki’s evident desire for it, his chin wet with saliva that runs down over his hand where he’s stroking Loki’s cock.

For all Thor takes his time over each leisurely pull of his mouth, letting Loki enjoy him slowly just as requested, he’s nevertheless eager to swallow more than he ought to and chokes wetly when he tries to take too much too soon.

“Careful, darling,” Loki admonishes. “Don’t rush yourself.”

Glancing up, Thor gives him a look that’s somehow as filthy as it is contrite, playing at innocence while knowing he’s no such thing. When he licks over the head of Loki’s cock, flicking over the slit with his tongue before sinking down on him fully, Loki gives Thor’s hair a tug in reward and Thor moans so gorgeously Loki feels his cock twitch in response.

Thor relaxes further, letting Loki nudge deeper without being able to quite take it all, and then suddenly Loki is sinking all the way into the back of his throat with a groan. Thor’s throat contracts around him as he gags slightly and yet he makes no move to pull away, the pressure unbearably good. Finally able to take Loki’s cock fully without choking and evidently pleased with this achievement, Thor gives a content little hum, the subtle vibrations making Loki’s toes curl.

Thor lets Loki guide the pace with gentle fingers, rocking his hips up to meet each downward slide of Thor’s lips. Positioned as they are Loki can’t thrust into him quite as much as he could otherwise — an endevour for another day, no doubt — but Thor meets every roll of his hips without fail, an endless back and forth of pleasure until Thor finally has to sit back on his heels to catch his breath.

Utterly smitten with him, Loki carefully wipes away the tears from Thor’s cheeks where his eyes are watering. Thor gives him a look of absolute devotion, flushed with pleasure and unsteady on his knees. He sways a little into Loki’s touch when he cups his cheek and brushes his thumb over Thor’s lips, quiet as Thor takes a moment to rest.

“You’re getting me very close,” Loki says approvingly, feeling achingly tender as he looks over Thor. He slips two fingers gently into Thor’s mouth to rest on his tongue. “Darling, will you let me come here?”

Thor nods eagerly, teasing around Loki’s fingers with his tongue and sucking on them. Withdrawing, Loki sits back and lets Thor swallow his cock down without hesitation; he sucks him off now with single-minded focus, keen to take everything Loki can offer and giving relentlessly until he gets it. He’s the loveliest thing Loki’s ever set eyes on, and so, so good.

“Darling,” Loki murmurs with urgency, “don’t stop.”

Thor redoubles his efforts until Loki thickens and pulses in his mouth, pressed deep enough to come down his throat. Groaning, Thor takes it readily, patient as Loki finishes.

After, Loki dazedly tucks himself back into his trousers for the sake of propriety, Thor watching him as he does so. Thor looks beautifully wrecked, and must surely be hard enough to hurt.

“Did you enjoy that?” Loki asks him, stroking his cheek. He looks about as overwhelmed as Loki feels.

“God yes,” Thor says, blinking up at him. “Loki, please.”

It might be lacking in the specifics, but it’s all too obvious what Thor needs. Loki nudges Thor’s knees further apart with his toes, Thor’s jeans pulling tight across the crotch and making the bulge of his cock even more prominent.

“Get that out,” Loki says with a meaningful glance downward. “Let me see you, sweetheart.”

Thor is so hard he can barely get his zip down, whimpering as his fingers brush over the clothed swell of his erection before he’s finally able to get a hand around himself and draw his cock out fully.

“Hands off,” Loki says gently. “I want to get a good look at you.”

Thor reluctantly removes his hand from his cock, resting his palms on his thighs instead. His fingers fidget and clench, his nails digging into denim as he tries to calm himself down. His prick is even more beautiful in reality than it appeared in the photos Thor sent him, standing untouched and drooling into his lap.

Loki sits forward in his chair, sliding a hand around the back of Thor’s neck; leans in for a kiss, languid and luxurious. Thor accepts it readily, allowing Loki to set the pace.

Sitting back and regarding Thor coolly, Loki begins to unbutton his shirt, taking his time over it. Absent-mindedly works each button from its hole as he looks over every bit of Thor he can. He never imagined he could feel so powerful and yet so thoroughly in someone’s thrall as he does in this moment: for all that Thor submits so sweetly, finding satisfaction in instruction as he dotes on Loki on bended knee, he could ask Loki for the moon and the stars and Loki would find a way to give them to him.

Thor looks at him with unchecked hunger in his expression — desperate for Loki, desperate for relief. Seeking neither until Loki allows it.

“You can come in just a moment, darling, I know how badly you want it,” Loki informs him quietly, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees, looking Thor directly in the eye. He clasps his hands together to keep from touching him, wanting Thor to focus on his words alone. It feels so intense he almost wants to look away. “But just know that after this, the next time you do so you’ll be coming on my cock and I’ll have fucked you for so long that you can’t remember what it feels like not to have me inside you.”

Thor makes a choked little sound, whining in his throat as his cock twitches and smears wetly against his belly. His stomach tenses and relaxes, his fingers digging into his thighs again to keep from touching himself.

Loki finally slips his shirt from his shoulders, moving from the chair to kneel between Thor’s spread thighs; kisses him briefly and holds him close, one hand on Thor’s hip as Thor winds his arms around Loki’s neck and nuzzles into him with a quiet, desperate sound. Loki’s other hand finds Thor’s cock between them, his fingers encircling it. Thor’s hips jump when he squeezes it gently.

“Come on, darling,” Loki says, beginning to pull him off with firm strokes. “Come for me, there we go.”

“Oh fuck,” Thor grits out, panting against Loki’s neck as his cock flexes in his grip and he begins to spend himself in thick spurts over Loki’s stomach and lap. “Loki.”

Loki keeps up the rhythmic motion of his hand as he works Thor through each throbbing pulse, gradually slowing until Thor spills one final trickle into Loki’s palm and begins to tremble against him.

“Thor,” Loki murmurs, pressing a kiss to Thor’s temple. “Oh, my gorgeous boy. You did so well, I’m so proud of you.”

He strokes his hands — still rather sticky, but Thor doesn’t appear to mind — down over the strong muscles of Thor’s back, rubbing in soothing motions over his bare skin. Still slumped against Loki, Thor remains silent for a while, happy and docile under Loki’s touch.

“Your trousers are ruined,” Thor eventually mumbles against Loki’s shoulder with a shaky laugh.

“They’ll wash,” Loki assures him, pressing his cheek to the top of Thor’s head. “Probably. It was worth it regardless and, if you recall, as much my fault as yours. I very much enjoyed it.”

Smiling, Thor draws Loki into a kiss, his hands gentle where they cup Loki’s face. Loki returns it lazily, in no rush to move things in another direction. Apparently having other ideas and now in the mood to take matters into his own hands and do something about it, Thor pushes Loki back onto the carpet with a smug look and sets about licking his own come from Loki’s stomach as Loki shudders underneath him.

“God, you’re filthy,” Loki sighs approvingly. This wasn’t in the plan, but he finds it’s a rather inspired addition regardless. Clever boy, indeed.

“Mm. Fuck, you’re so fucking hot,” Thor says distractedly, mouthing at Loki’s hipbone and then tracing along it with his tongue.

His voice is still thick with arousal, roughened by the way Loki fucked his throat raw until he came. The notion along with the compliment has warmth blooming in Loki’s belly all over again.

“What now?” Thor asks once he’s satisfied Loki is clean again, rolling onto his back and tugging Loki up on top of him.

“Firstly,” Loki says, his fingertips dancing over Thor’s throat, “I’m going to get you a glass of water, darling. I don’t want you losing your voice or feeling too sore later because I didn’t take proper care of you. After that — you’re going to take me to your bedroom.”

-❅-

Thor’s bedroom is just as flower-filled as the rest of the flat, the walls and furnishings decorated in shades of blue. Twinkling fairy lights draped over the curtain rail add a cosy glow to the small space.

Thor sprawls back on the bed, wriggling out of his jeans and impatiently kicking them off over the side of the bed when they tangle around one ankle. Loki finds himself standing awestruck for a moment as he takes in the sight of Thor lounging on the sheets, gloriously naked and comfortable in his own skin.

“You don’t have to take your time getting me ready,” Thor says, propped up on his hands. “I fingered myself before you came over.”

He lets his knees fall apart a little wider in a way that has Loki’s train of thought stuttering to a halt, refocusing on the all-encompassing want to settle into the cradle of Thor’s hips and fuck him senseless. For all Loki had every intention of taking things just as slowly as he’d promised he wastes no time in getting himself naked too, his clothing joining Thor’s in a heap on the floor.

Thor lies back as Loki crawls atop him and kisses him soundly. Reaching between Thor’s legs, Loki rubs at Thor’s hole; dips the tip of his index finger inside him and finds he’s still slick with lube. Thor’s cock, half hard, twitches against his thigh as it thickens further in response to Loki’s teasing. Loki lowers his hips down to meet him, rubs against Thor’s prick with his own.

“You’ve been like this the entire time we were in the other room?” says Loki. “Wet between your thighs, ready to be fucked? My dear, darling, impatient boy. Whatever will I do with you?”

Loki eases two fingers halfway inside him, watching for any sign of discomfort; he’s so hot inside, and it makes Loki’s pulse race. He crooks them experimentally, a tease of sensation that has Thor shifting his hips and groaning. The deep, guttural sound of it goes straight to Loki’s cock.

“I have some ideas,” Thor says, breathless and needy.

“So do I,” Loki tells him as he withdraws. “Turn over.”

-❅-

Thor, as it turns out, can be rendered speechless and pliant with some well-applied, enthusiastic rimming and an abundance of praise. Holding Thor down by the hips, Loki proceeds to thoroughly take him apart with his mouth, taking the time every so often to lavish attention on other equally wonderful parts of Thor’s body or otherwise tell him how brilliant he is in every way.

By the time Loki gets to rolling a condom onto himself, he’s half out of his mind with the want to bury himself inside him, his cock throbbing with need.

“Are you ready for me, darling?” he asks, encouraging Thor up onto his hands and knees.

Thor moves easily, lets Loki position him however he pleases; a pliant doll, eager for Loki’s use. Loki feels lightheaded at the thought of it.

“I’ve been ready forever,” Thor complains with a soft huff of laughter. Loki reaches around to give Thor’s cock a couple of sturdy strokes, enough to tease and leave him wanting more.

“You’ve been so patient,” Loki says, full of praise. The tip of his cock snags against Thor’s rim when he positions himself, making his breath hitch. “You’re doing perfectly.”

Thor’s hole gives a little when Loki pushes against it, soft and well-slicked. Thor makes a low sound of mingled surprise and relief when the head pops inside, his breath quickening. Loki eases in slowly, inch by inch until he’s almost all the way inside him; stills his hips and holds himself there unmoving.

“Goodness, look at you,” Loki says admiringly. He pulls out halfway and palms at Thor’s arse, spreading him open to get a better look at the tender place where they’re joined. Rubs his thumb teasingly where Thor’s stretched around him, making Thor swear softly, tightening around Loki’s cock before relaxing again. “Sweetheart, you’re taking it so well.”

“Fuck,” Thor murmurs, arching his back, greedily pushing back against Loki to take him to the hilt again. “Oh, god, fuck, you feel so fucking good, Lo.”

Something within Loki’s carefully maintained self-control finally breaks apart at that. Gripping at Thor’s waist he keeps Thor in place while he gives him a few good, strong, bed-shaking thrusts to really make him beg for it — fast and brutal on the instroke and achingly slow on the withdrawal, pausing between each one — before easing off and settling into a slower, smoother rhythm.

It’s so easy to lose himself in the intoxicating pleasure of it, the sultry heat of Thor’s body addictive. Every plunge inside feels like relief when Loki bottoms out, satisfied only when he’s deep enough that he has nothing more to give. The breathy sounds Thor makes are maddeningly arousing, and Loki soon discovers that if he angles his hips just right and gives a few pulsing little thrusts right where Thor is most sensitive, Thor gets delightfully loud about it.

Loki runs his hands over Thor’s body, his broad shoulders and tapered waist, luxuriating in the feel of him as he showers him with praise. He disregards Thor’s cock for now, still hanging hard and heavy between his thighs. They’ll get to that later.

He sees to him at such length that he’s forced to stop halfway through to reapply more lube. Carefully withdrawing with a quiet apology to Thor, he reaches for the bottle and squirts a generous amount onto his fingers. Slips them inside Thor’s hole with ease now he’s fucked open, a little loose from Loki’s cock. He curls his fingers down to rub at Thor right where he wants it most and Thor gives a low, rumbling groan, spreading his knees further apart as his cock spills a glut of fluid onto the bedsheets below.

“There, darling?” Loki says, firmly pressing into him with the pads of his fingers. “Oh, sweetheart, is that what you need?”

Thor trembles, clenching and pushing back against him seeking more. Oh, he’s so much fun to play with: so sweet and responsive. Loki gives him what he wants, enchanted at the sight of him.

“Fuck,” Thor breathes, his cock dripping steadily now. “Fuck, Lo, you’re going to make me come.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Loki teases lightly, easing his fingers back out and wiping the excess lube on the sheets. He grabs a pillow and shoves it directly under Thor’s hips. “Down,” Loki says, and Thor goes down onto his belly with a satisfied hum.

Loki knees Thor’s thighs apart into an enticing sprawl and takes a moment to admire just how golden and gorgeous he is under the room’s soft lighting. He sinks once again into the welcoming heat of his body in one smooth stroke and proceeds to fuck him until Thor’s begging for more and begging to finish in equal measure, apparently unable to make up his mind. For now, Loki elects to ignores him.

Each thrust feels maddeningly good and so Loki goes slower rather than faster until every outward stroke takes an age and each inward push leaves him gasping when he finally bottoms out. Every few thrusts he pulls out entirely, dragging the length of his cock teasingly over Thor’s gaping, blushing hole before pushing inside again. Sweat pricks down his spine, the warmth of the room and the combined heat of their skin incendiary.

“I need to come,” Thor groans, shifting his hips against the pillow beneath him in an attempt to find relief.

“Do you need to, sweetheart? Or do you just want to?” Loki asks him kindly, gently brushing Thor’s hair from his neck to press his lips to the nape of it.

Thor thinks on it for a moment while Loki ceases all movement, keeping Thor speared open on the length of his cock. Thor rocks his hips in the scant space he’s able to do so, letting out a soft whine when he finds the sensation too much to bear.

“Want to,” Thor mumbles, his fingers clenching tightly in the sheets as Loki pulls all the way out; lets the tip of his cock kiss wetly at Thor’s entrance before pushing back inside again. “I can wait.”

“Good boy,” Loki murmurs, pressing Thor down into the bed with his bodyweight and fucking into him in languorous strokes.

When Loki can’t stand it any longer and Thor is reduced to incoherence, Loki pulls out and puts Thor on his back instead. Slipping smoothly back inside him, Loki kisses him deeply, hips stuttering as Thor spreads his legs wider for him and rakes blunt nails over Loki’s back.

“Please,” Thor begs him with each thrust, “please, oh, please, please, Lo, fuck, I’m so close.”

“I know,” Loki says, panting, “I know, darling, let’s get you seen to. You’ve been so good at waiting.”

He leaves Thor’s cock untouched, gently cupping his balls instead where they’re drawn up tight. Massages them with careful strokes, delicately rolling them in his palm as he encourages Thor to let go. Thor tenses as he empties himself with an emphatic groan, chest heaving as he comes, tightening around Loki’s cock so hard that Loki’s vision swims.

“Beautiful,” Loki breathes, blinking back into focus, hauling Thor’s legs up onto his shoulders so he can fuck down into him harder.

Thor bites back a whimper, clearly over-sensitive, but nevertheless runs his hands down Loki’s sides and encourages him deeper; he’s all lax from orgasm, soft in the aftermath. Loki presses kisses along Thor’s jaw and his heat-flushed neck, a little clumsy with desperation.

“Are you going to come inside me?” Thor asks, barely more than a whisper like it’s a secret just for them. He lifts his chin to brush their mouths together as Loki moves forward to meet him and Loki feels, rather than sees, his smile. “I want to pretend you’re fucking me bare and filling me up.”

He’s barely finished the sentence before Loki’s tipped over the edge, his fingers gripping at Thor’s thigh as he buries his cock inside him with a tight groan and comes hard into the condom. Thor murmurs Loki’s name, looking up at him in wonder, and tilts his hips with a satisfied little hum as Loki gives a couple more gentle thrusts.

Loki imagines fucking him with nothing between them, marking him up on the inside and pushing it deeper with his cock; the mere thought of it has him shivering with an aftershock of pleasure as his balls throb one final time. He feels completely and utterly drained.

Laughing softly, Thor strokes Loki’s hair back where it falls between them and tucks it behind his ear. Loki kisses him and kisses him, sweet, chaste presses of mouths as he finally pulls out as carefully as he can manage.

“Oh, darling boy,” Loki murmurs, breathless, pulling Thor close to him despite the mess and stroking his hands over Thor’s body in soothing motions to bring them both down gently. “You were perfect, just wonderful, Thor.”

He’s forced to leave Thor for just a moment to dispose of the condom in the bin by the bed, reluctant to part from him at all, but Thor merely stretches out on his back with a sigh. He’s unabashed, completely relaxed, and looks so well-fucked he’s positively glowing with it.

Smiling, Loki returns to him, smoothing Thor’s tousled hair down and pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head. Thor hums a sleepy, satisfied sound; presses closer, as close as he can be, and Loki takes the time to just — breathe.

-❅-

After eventually cleaning up they end up back in bed, facing one another under the cosy warmth of the duvet as they drift somewhere between sleep and waking. Loki drapes his arm over Thor’s waist and tangles their legs together, keeping him close, protected and safe. He cannot recall the last time he felt so content.

“I’ve been wanting to try that new restaurant in town,” Loki says at length, each word coming thick and slow like honey from a spoon. He’s so relaxed that speaking at all feels like an effort. “The rather grand one overlooking the river. Will you go out for dinner with me this weekend? My treat.”

Thor’s eyes widen, and he pushes up onto one elbow to look at him properly.

“Loki,” Thor says, stunned. “Yeah, course I will but — fuck, I don’t think I even own anything smart enough to wear to a place like that.”

Loki gives him a suitably dismayed look, tamping down a smile. “Well that won’t do at all,” he says gently, taking Thor’s hand in his own and lacing their fingers together. “I simply must take you shopping, darling, I won’t hear a word against it.”

Clearly amused, Thor studies him for a moment before shaking his head.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Thor says, apparently getting the measure of him. He rolls over to lie his chin upon Loki’s stomach, blinking up at him with a broad grin. The weight of him is comforting, a perfect thing. “Alright. Buy me something nice and I might even let you take it off me afterwards.”

Loki looks at him, hopelessly fond, and traces the edge of Thor’s jawline with the tip of one finger. How exquisite he is, every part of him.

“Promises, promises,” Loki says softly.

He draws Thor up into a kiss, just as soft; dares let himself dream of the days, months and years to follow.