“Is this what you wanted, Fandral?” Loki whispers in his ear, and Fandral whimpers, pressing back against his chest and shuddering where he is placed in Loki’s lap, his legs spread wide and his arse speared open by the length of Loki’s cock. The other Lokis are working most admirably: the second is laying kiss after kiss on Fandral’s neck, his jaw, his fingers playing over Fandral’s nipples; and the third, oh, the third!
“Loki–” Fandral moans, and the third Loki smiles from where he kneels between Fandral’s legs, sliding two fingers against the cock already buried within him, and Norns, it is glorious. Fandral can feel the burn, feel himself stretch, and it is unbearable - it is perfect.
“Which one?” asks the first Loki, and he punctuates his question with a roll of his hips, making Fandral whimper and allowing the third Loki to press another finger inside him. Fandral wails most pitifiully.
“Please,” Fandral begs, “please, if you are to split me in two, I implore you–”
“Eager, isn’t he?” the second Loki murmurs, and he bites at Fandral’s earlobe.
“Positively filthy,” agrees the third, nipping at the inside of Fandral’s thigh, and then he scissors his fingers, making Fandral choke. But then he is standing, oh, yes, oh yes, oh yes–
Fandral nearly screams when the third Loki lines himself up, slowly lowering Fandral down onto his and the first Loki’s cocks as one, and he will die. He will die, he will die, and so honourable will his death be, speared upon these two weapons, that he shall go to Valhalla–
The second Loki catches him in a kiss, and Fandral spends too early.
They are all laughing at him, all three, and then there is only Loki, clutching Fandral close to him and chuckling against his neck. Fandral’s head lolls back, and he moans.
Loki kisses his neck, and begins to roll his hips within him once more.