There’s a soft creak of the floorboards behind him and Tom’s eyes slide open, trying to adjust to the dark room, the moon outside the open window casts eerie shadows along his walls. He turns his head slightly, old childhood phobias that he never quite lost. He’s expecting to see the vacant shape of his open door, what he doesn’t expect is the silhouette of a tall, lean, man standing on the opposite side of his bed.
Tom’s heart stops as a split second of blind panic threatens to overtake him, and flight or fight has him bolting upright. He barely manages to pull his covers off when the man’s arm rises in a clear sign for him to desist. Tom’s wide eyes take in the stranger’s appearance, and his hand stutters momentarily in their scrabble.
He stops. It’s absurd, his body going lax like a command, and he wonders for a brief moment if that’s possible, and he knows rationally it’s not, but then neither is the undeniable truth that the man standing before him is Loki Laufeyson.
When Tom stills, Loki smiles and he lowers his hand to his side, his right gripping his scepter. He starts to move slowly around the bed and Tom disentangles himself from his covers and stands.
“This…is not possible,” Tom stutters, his eyes darting over every inch of the other man. “I’m dreaming…”he says, desperately, and he’s always side-eyed that line in films, so over used, so obvious, and yet, there was no other explanation.
“Oh, the explanation is a bit more complicated, than even your stories could conceive,” Loki says, with a frightening smile, he nods his head to the flat screen on the other side of the room.
“I don’t understand,” Tom says, he steps closer to Loki, determined to make certain he was real, though his heart hammered against his chest in an erratic staccato. Loki makes no move to dissuade him, so Tom moves across the room to stand before…himself.
Except, it wasn’t him it was Loki, and there were subtle differences that even Tom could see in the other man.
“But…” Tom breathes.
“I come from another world…another universe to be more precise. I came, accidentally of course, some time ago. It was rather…a surprise when I discovered that all of my hardships and foils were nothing more than a mere charade, a few hours of cheap entertainment.” Tom doesn’t know what to say, just stares bemused.
“Though I have to say, I do find my counterpart’s popularity rather intriguing,” Loki replies with an upward quirk of his lips. He steps closer to Tom, who backs away a bit slowly. “I have noticed,” he says, dropping his voice and moving closer. “You do seem…awfully, fond of me.”
Tom’s back bumps the wall by his bed, his arms dropping down to his sides to steady himself, palms sliding against the cold surface of the wall.
“I…” Tom tries, but his breathe hitches, his heart pounding in his chest as Loki presses closer. He doesn’t deny the accusation; he knows assuredly Loki wouldn’t believe him anyway. Loki shifts in front of him, and Tom sees the glint of moonlight catching on the sharp points of Loki’s scepter. He grins before raising it up to Tom’s throat slowly. Tom lets his head fall back against the wall behind him, cocking his head to the side instinctively, trying to put as much space between his bare skin and the blade edge, but it only serves to expose the long pale line of his neck to Loki and the scepter he’s using to trace the contours of Tom’s throat.
Tom’s breath hitches as Loki watches, moving the scepter down, over his clavicle, to curve dangerously around a nipple, down his abdomen, his muscles tightening beneath the sharpened point, to finally rest against the waistband of his cotton boxer briefs.
Loki lets his gaze settle where the blade dips just beneath the edge of Tom’s underwear, and Tom spares a glance down, his stomach still tensed, waiting. Loki gives a breathy laugh before he moves and in one swift motion he hooks Tom’s boxer briefs in the curved edge of his scepter and sweeps downward, hard and fast.
Tom lets out a strangled gasp as the material rips loudly, and he watches as the tattered fabric falls away from his groin to wrap uselessly around his right leg. It sends a shot of arousal straight to his already half-hard cock, the cool air, being exposed to the watchful, predatory eyes of Loki Laufeyson.
Loki leans in close, one hand coming up to press against the wall beside Tom’s head. “Shall we see…if your fondness grows?” Loki whispers harshly, and lets a hand slide between their bodies, so close together. His hand wraps roughly around Tom’s cock and he tugs, once, twice, before pulling away. Tom lets out a soft noise of protest, but it only makes Loki laugh as he pulls him forcefully away from the wall.
Tom gasps as Loki manhandles him, the trickster at least an inch taller than him, with his regal boots and Tom barefoot. He pushes Tom against the bed, and he falls ungracefully down. Tom scrambles to sit up and Loki moves to settle between his open legs. He lifts Tom’s head up with a gentle press of his hand beneath Tom’s chin.
“Undress me,” he whispers, and his voice is soft but there is no mistaking the command in it. Tom doesn’t disobey. He moves his fingers to stutter over every belt, every button, every clasp and heavy piece of leather. Tom’s fingers tremble slightly as he works, but he’s not entirely sure if it’s from his steadily growing need, throbbing heavy between his legs or the undercurrent of fear prowling at the edges of his mind. The moments pass agonizingly slow as Tom works, and it strikes him as suddenly funny, how often he has been on the other side of this, day after day of shooting with hoards of wardrobe staff forcing him in and out of his costume. It’s so familiar, the feel of it beneath his fingertips but it’s so different, from this side.
When Tom has rid Loki of all but his the leather trousers his hands are grasped roughly in Loki’s, stilling his movements effectively.
“Do you treat your own possessions with such carelessness?” Loki asks, motioning to the discarded clothing scatter at his feet. Tom is unsure of how to respond, but Loki doesn’t bother waiting before he cuts,
“Pick them up, and fold them carefully,” he commands. Tom pushes himself onto unsteady feet, and the sight of his trepidation makes Loki smirk once more as he steps aside to watch Tom bend and gather up the fallen clothing. He lays everything carefully at the end of the bed, glancing nervously over his shoulder as though expecting to be scolded. Loki merely watches him. When he’s finished Loki steps forward slowly and caresses Tom’s face in a gentle hand. The feel of Loki’s hand on him sends a shiver up Tom’s spine and a spark of arousal straight to his leaking cock.
Without waiting to be told Tom’s hands find the clasps on Loki’s leather trousers and he unhooks them carefully. Loki smiles and nods his approval. Tom pushes them down around Loki’s strong thighs and notes with a soft whimper that he’s wearing nothing underneath. Loki leans forward just slightly, until his mouth is against the curve of Tom’s ear and whispers,
“Kneel.” Tom starts to obey, his knees bending just slightly before he gives it a moment’s consideration and stops. Loki pulls back and looks at him curiously, sees the aborted movement and questions him with a steady gaze. Tom stares back a bit defiantly, a thrill shoots through him, making his cock jump and Loki watches with a grin.
“I underestimated you,” Loki says with a smirk. “If you want to play, I’d be more than happy to oblige,” he tells Tom. “Now I said,” Loki growls, “kneel!” and he brings the blunt edge of the scepter down against Tom’s shoulder, Tom gives a shout of protest and drops to his knees.
The hardwood floor is rough against Tom’s knees and he’s fairly certain his shoulder will be bruised in the morning, but now there is little to distract him from the intensity of Loki’s gaze and the unspoken command to finish his job and Tom obeys, silently, gripping Loki’s leather trousers in steady hands and sliding them down his legs and off his bare feet.
He folds these too, from his position on the floor, but Loki grabs them roughly from him and tosses them atop the other discarded clothing, impatient. Tom has a chance then, to lean back slightly, to take in the other man.
Finally Loki is naked, and Tom’s unsure if it makes him a narcissist or not, but Loki is a bit breathtaking, the moonlight falling over him like it’s caressing every sharp angle of his lithe form.
“Do I please you?” Loki asks, curiously. Tom pulls his eyes away from the rest of him to stare into Loki’s face. He nods, a little bashfully and looks away,
“yes,” he whispers. Loki smirks. He widens his stance in front of Tom, and drags Tom forward with a hand to the back of the head, tangling in the curls there.
“So quiet now, yet so loquacious behind the camera,” Loki observes, voice betraying his fascination. “You have a gifted tongue, I’d like to test its other uses,” Loki whispers, roughly. Tom is pulled forward, he doesn’t resist.
Loki positions Tom’s head just in front of his erection. The almost shy way Tom looks up at Loki, makes Loki’s cock jump, the head brushing against Tom’s slightly parted lips. Tom’s eyes slip shut, but there’s only a moment of nervous hesitation before his tongue darts out, to swirl across the head before he takes Loki into his mouth.
Tom can’t say that he doesn’t have any experience in this field, but it’s been a long time, and he wonders if Loki’s preferences mirror his own. Tom brings his right hand up, to wrap around the base of Loki’s erection, jerking him in messy, uneven strokes as he sucks him off, his left hand ghosting across Loki’s hip like Tom’s unsure of what to do with it.
Loki is silent above him, and Tom opens his eyes stare up, nervously. Loki is watching him, with heavy lidded eyes, his hand coming up to rest in Tom’s hair, just to feel the movement of his head as he bobs down on Loki’s erection.
Then Loki is pulling away, and Tom lets his hands drop, confused, as Loki backs away. He doesn’t move far though, just collapses against the desk chair a few feet away, going lax in the seat, his legs spread wide, cock jutting up red and full, and Tom knows he has a propensity to sit in such a way, and he wonders if this is the effect it normally has on others, it makes his own cock jump, and he tugs at before Loki is shaking his head in the negative and motioning him forward.
Tom moves on his knees the few feet to the other man, and rests in the ‘V’ of his outstretched legs, settling between them, eager to have his mouth back on the other man’s dripping cock. Loki smirks, Tom’s desire obvious. Tom leans forward and draws Loki’s erection back into his mouth, this time hollowing out his cheeks and swallowing him down, a hand circling the base tightly, palming at Loki’s balls at the same time. When he moans around the mouthful Loki’s hips thrust forward and he lets out a low groan.
Tom bobs up and down on Loki’s cock, whimpering and groaning, pleasure wrapped in the pain, the ache of his own arousal almost unbearable and he wants desperately to touch his own cock, but he doesn’t, moves his own hips trying to seek friction on nothing but air, the movement just enough to send spikes of arousal through him, mirroring the movements of Loki’s own hips as they thrust up, forcing his cock deeper down Tom’s throat.
Tom groans, half in pleasure, half in protest at the force of Loki’s erection down his throat. Loki grasps Tom’s head suddenly, forcing him away and Tom lets out a whimper, breathing heavily, lips red and spit slicked.
“Get on the bed,” Loki commands and Tom pulls himself to his feet, barely able to stand, Loki offers a steadying grip on his elbow, and Tom looks up at him, surprise etched into his features. Tom crosses the room and collapses against the bed, moving across it on all fours to lie on his back, expectantly. When Loki approaches him, Tom sees the glint of metal, but it’s not the scepter this time, it’s a pair of chains and the gag Tom recognizes from the final scene of the Avengers, his cock jumps and it surprises Tom a little, but he’d be lying if he said being chained and manhandled by Chris Hemsworth hadn’t planted the seed of this idea in his mind so many months before.
Loki must see it too because he’s grinning again as he moves over Tom, kneeling on the bed over him. Loki reaches down and tears the already frayed fabric of Tom’s ruined boxer briefs off his thigh, before he picks up the long chain and entwines it around the headboard securely before cuffing Tom’s wrists. Tom watches as he next picks up the mouthpiece and fits it around Tom’s face, clasping it closed, and Tom tests it, much stronger than the prop one of course, and nothing but muffled noises escape. Loki smirks.
Tom thinks that’s it, but then he sees something else shine in the dark and as Loki moves to fit it around Tom’s erection he realizes it’s a cock ring. He’s never used one before, and he’s unsure, and he lets out a note of slight trepidation at it, but of course, it’s nothing more than a stifled moan, and Loki ignores it anyway.
He’s nervous now, really, for the first time, but it’s buried beneath a layer of agonizing arousal that has him practical thrashing against the sheets, more turned on than he can ever remember being, and the restraints only serve to fuel that mad desire, not diminish it.
He thinks it must be obvious to Loki, who’s looking down at him with amusement, his own erection jumping and twitching where it stands, flushed and hard against his taut stomach. Loki lowers himself over Tom then, experimentally drags his hard cock over Tom’s and they both moan low, eyes slipping closed at the friction.
Loki lets out a pleased sigh as he does it two, three, four more times, each time Tom’s legs spreading wider, needing more contact, tugging at his bonds, the cock ring keeping him from tipping over the edge. Loki pulls back suddenly, and settles himself onto the bed, dragging Tom’s legs around him. He leans over and teases Tom with the press of his tongue, dragging his teeth over his chest, licking across his nipples and sucking on them. Tom is writhing against the sheets, moaning through the metal gag around his face, his eyes closed, head thrown back, trying to find more friction against Loki, but he’s avoiding touching Tom’s cock.
Loki kneels over him on all fours, leaning down to lick a stripe up Tom’s neck, to bite at his pulse point, sucking bruises into his skin Tom thinks management will absolutely destroy him for later if he isn’t broken down at the molecular level from Loki before then. When Loki’s tongue dips into Tom’s ear he nearly loses it, trying to move away from the feel of Loki against him, it’s too much, he needs to come, so badly, but the ring is too tight around his cock and he can’t, so he whimpers instead and twitches against the mattress. Loki’s laugh in his ear should be eerie but it only serves turns him on more.
Loki moves down Tom’s body, licking and biting his way down towards his angry red erection, trapped in its metal confines. Tom watches as Loki sucks on the head, moaning around it before pulling off with a filthy pop. He leans over Tom, braced on strong arms, and asks,
“Have you ever been taken?” His smile is Cheshire cat wide, and it’s familiar, the way his mouth carefully enunciates every word, the flash of white teeth in the dimly lit room. Tom doesn’t respond but to moan, whimper helplessly.
“I asked a question, Thomas, I demand an answer,” Loki says, leaning down again to take Tom into his mouth. Tom throws his head back, writhing against the sheets, hips thrusting up into the wet heat of Loki’s mouth, finally he nods, fervently, burying his arm in the crook of his outstretched elbow. Loki looks down at him speculatively, before forcing Tom’s legs wider apart and lifting him up just slightly, exposing his entrance, he’s on display for Loki’s eyes only, and it has Tom moaning again.
Tom watches as Loki slicks himself up, and Tom wonders briefly about Asgardian magic because his cock is glistening wet as he lines himself up with Tom’s hole. It’s been a long time since Tom has bottomed, but he’s aching for it now, rotating his hips trying to seek out Loki’s cock as the trickster drags it slowly across Tom’s entrance, teasing. Tom moans in frustration and Loki, with a grin, takes pity on him, sliding inside Tom, finally. Tom stills his movements, trying to get used to the feeling of being penetrated. Loki doesn’t give him much time to acclimate before he’s moving, thrusting his hips in a hard rhythm.
Tom lets out a litany of unheard expletives, and Loki shifts slightly to reach his arm up and undo the gag, it falls away onto the mattress as Tom’s mouth is freed. There’s nothing now to muffle the sound of his pleasure, low breathy moans interlaced with loud, stuttered screams, filthy groans and helpless whimpering, he can barely control himself, as he tries to pull away and get closer all at the same time. Loki all the while never letting up his hard thrusts, changing angles every so often to find Tom’s prostate, letting out a satisfied sound when Tom stills his movements, completely unable to do anything but let Loki fuck him into the mattress, the bed banging out a rhythm against the walls, Loki forcing Tom’s legs wider and wider, watching Tom’s cock twitch in its metal rings.
“Please,” Tom begs, head thrown back against the pillow, tears forming in his blue eyes, “I need…” he stutters, out of breath. Loki grins down at him, and moans low, his own orgasm ripped from him with one more violent thrust of his hips, spilling into Tom, and groaning low and satisfied. He pulls out, away from Tom, who’s left lying listless and unmoving on the bed, eyes closed and panting heavily. Loki makes to move away and Tom whines, and begs, croaking into the darkness,
“please.” Loki laughs then, smile wide and a little terrifying.
“Because you beg so pretty,” he says, and he leans forward to lick a strip up Tom’s cock, reaches up to tweak his nipples as he works him over. But the cock ring is still tightened around his aching erection, and he can’t come, and Tom is whimpering into the room, still begging. Loki crawls up Tom’s body, gently lowering himself down on top of him, bare chest to bare chest, his spent cock nestled beside Tom’s leaking own. He cradles Tom’s head in his left hand, elbow braced on the bed beside him, and slides his right down to undo the cock ring and pull it off. Tom’s breath hitches as Loki grasps his erection in a firm hand, it takes just a single jerk to bring Tom off, he makes no noise, is beyond it, incapable of doing anything but tensing, head thrown back, eyes wide, and Loki leans down and sinks his teeth into Tom’s neck as he comes, hard, long jets of come stripping both their chests, as he pulses in Loki’s hand.
Finally coming down Tom whimpers, breathless, and sated, his body sinking into the bed, unable to move. Loki clasps a hand around Tom’s face, and neck and forces his head towards his own, Tom just stares up at him, open mouthed and panting. Loki leans forward and captures Tom’s lips in a kiss that Tom is surprised to find is gentle, Loki’s tongue licking over his lips before darting into his pliant mouth. Their tongues grapple, it’s sensual in a way that contrasts with the rough press of Loki’s fingers against the skin of his neck and cheek.
Loki pulls away then, reaches up to undo the cuffs that bind Tom’s hands to the headboard, and his arms fall, muscles protesting, too painful now that the pleasure and the aching need of his arousal has gone. Loki moves off of him then, pulls away entirely, and Tom finds his naked skin exposed to the too cool air of the room, he also finds he makes an involuntary noise of protest at the loss of contact. Loki smirks at him as he moves to stand beside the bed.
Loki redresses himself slowly as Tom watches from the bed, and when he’s finally right himself he moves to the doorway, Tom in a disbelieving heap on his rumpled sheets. Loki gives him one, final smirk, and whispers “Till next time, Mr. Hiddleston.”