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Interlude I

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The bass pounds through the ground to reverberate up Loki’s chest, guiding his hips into a smooth, undulating rhythm while his head tilts up and his eyes close in bliss.


There is nothing so soothing as the press of unfamiliar bodies against his own, sweat dampening his hair into curls and a quiet lull in his brain that usually only follows on the heels of really great sex.


The latter, of course, is on his agenda as well.


And as if summoned by the thought, strong, broad hands are running along his sides and pulling him flush against a hot, hard body. Back to chest, Loki feels the rough scrape of stubble against the skin of his neck, and his breath catches while his hips stutter in their motion and the body behind him stills.


“Why did you stop?” The voice is deep and rough, enough to send shivers down Loki’s spine, familiar in a way that sparks anticipation in the pit of his belly.


But that’s not how this game is played.


Loki starts again, slower, rocking back and tangling his hands through fine golden strands. He moves with purpose, in a way he knows looks and feels good, and soon enough he can feel the half-hard outline of a thickening cock pressed against the seam of his ass.


His movements don’t exactly align with the harsh, steady beats of the club anymore, but that’s neither here nor there.


Thor is his, even if he doesn’t know it yet.



An embarrassingly short amount of time later finds them both locked in the men’s bathroom, Loki on his knees and Thor scrabbling the wall for support as he fights the urge to simply grab Loki’s hair and thrust


The sight of one of Loki’s hands disappearing between his legs doesn’t help, either, and bare minutes pass before Thor gives in to his urges.


He doesn’t even have the decency to let Loki swallow; instead, Thor comes all over Loki’s face and hair, and rubs it in with a smug satisfaction that simply will not do.



Somehow, they make it back to Loki’s flat with all their clothes intact.


Clothes that are quickly shed upon arrival as Thor pushes Loki onto the bed and enthusiastically returns the favour.



Even later, Loki pulls out his kit and ties Thor to the bed, slides a cock ring onto Thor’s rather impressive girth, and rides until his legs give out.


When he is able, Loki unties the bonds that hold Thor in place, and lies limp and pliant as Thor takes his pleasure.



They fall asleep amidst sheets stained with sweat and semen, holding each other tight as if it were their last embrace. 



The morning after, of course, is less than pleasant; they’re both sticky and grimy and have the bright idea of showering together to conserve water


Which, as expected, turns into Thor holding Loki up and fucking him against the shower wall because Loki’s legs gave out halfway through.


But then Thor’s smugness is tempered by no small amount of affection, and he offers to make breakfast, so Loki decides to forgive him.


This time.