The first thing Steve had noticed about fighting Thor was that he hit like a freight train.
Steve had gone rounds with Tony before, with Clint, with Natasha--but never Bruce, for obvious reasons--and they’d all managed to land blows, sometimes even ones that left a bruise or stung for a while. But those injuries were never severe enough to ache for days, to knock Steve off his feet or jar him enough to distract him.
The first punch Thor delivered to Steve’s stomach, however, had him almost doubling over.
Upon seeing Steve’s reaction, Thor’s eyes had gone impossibly wide with concern. He’d declared the match over right then and there, and insisted on helping Steve walk back to the locker room. When he’d finally left his side, Steve heard him cursing under his breath, reminding himself that these people weren’t like his own.
Steve had been impressed with Thor’s strength, and a little frightened of it. He knew Thor would never willingly hurt him--his instant regret was proof enough of that. Thor, however, was the only team member stronger than Steve was (unless he counted Bruce as the Hulk), and there was something...exhilarating about fighting with someone that strong.
It had taken him a week to get Thor comfortable with the idea of going another round with Steve, and he had sworn he wouldn’t hit as hard as he had before. But there was still almost no competition between them--Thor was so powerful and fast, and he shrugged off Steve’s hardest hits like they were nothing.
He swung again, fist colliding with Thor’s jaw, but he just blinked and then ducked, pulling his shoulder close to his body and butting Steve with it. The blow was enough to get Steve to stumble back, and then Thor hooked his leg and knocked Steve’s out from under him. He fell to the mat with a loud thump, still startled, and before he could scramble away Thor was sitting on him, pinning Steve’s wrists above his head.
This was the same way their previous seven matches had ended.
Despite his bad record, Steve struggled, pulling at Thor’s grip and snarling and straining, but Thor didn’t even budge, his weight resting comfortably on Steve’s body. Steve, panting hard, gave up the struggle, looking up at Thor’s blue eyes.
“Do you yield?” Thor asked, craning his head down. His hair was pulled back, but a few strands had fallen free, dangling down and framing his face.
“I yield,” Steve said, resigned. The weight on his wrists disappeared, but Thor lingered where he was, staring down at him with respect and...a strange look in his eyes. After a second, he rose, Steve rolling over on the mats to watch him walk to the corner and stretch out.
Thor looked at him from over his shoulder. “You desire another round?”
“If you’re up for it, yeah.”
Thor smiled, not condescendingly, but genuinely. Nobody ever asked to fight with him, Steve knew. He was so strong and fast that there was no point--the others always ended up like him, pinned down under Thor’s bulk. Natasha did a bit better, because she was fast and small and it usually took Thor longer to catch her, but even she couldn’t run forever.
“All right,” Thor said, striding back over and holding his hand out to help Steve up. When Steve reached up, Thor hoisted him up like he weighed nothing.
To be made to feel so light and delicate and...weak was almost nostalgic to Steve. Before the serum, he’d hated it, hated every time he was made to feel less because of body, and after the procedure, he thought he’d never experience it again. But Thor made him feel fragile--not helpless, but fragile--and the only other person who had done that was Bucky.
Bucky, who had held Steve down like it was nothing, who had pinned his body and kept him still while they made love. Bucky, who had been able to hold Steve just how he wanted him while he toyed with him, teased him, touched him, and Steve could do nothing but struggle ineffectually against him. Steve had loved it then--it was the only time when his body, weaknesses and all, had felt right, felt like it was the one made for him.
Of course, it had all been kept secret back then. Bucky had been Steve’s first and only man, and would probably be his last. There had been Peggy, and since Steve had woken up, he’d been with a few girls, but no long, serious relationships.
And none of the encounters had given Steve any reason to think he’d feel that again, feel that sense of fragility. He was so strong and powerful after the serum--and that had felt right, too, except for certain times, late at night in Bucky’s arms--that he’d had to be careful that he didn’t hurt Bucky, or any of his friends nowadays. Too many times he had accidentally let loose and left Tony with a black eye or Clint with a bruise that showed for a week. Who could Steve possibly expect to be able to hold him down and restrain him when Steve himself was so powerful?
As Steve hit the mat again, he realized that Thor certainly could.
Thor was lying on him this time, having wrestled him to the ground and fallen rather ungracefully on top of him, holding Steve’s wrists at his sides with both hands, one leg pinning Steve’s thigh to the ground.
“Submit?” he asked, and Steve struggled against him. It was then he realized that this was why he kept coming back for more, for the sensation of Thor holding him down like Bucky had, for reminding Steve that even with all his strength and power, someone still outclassed him. He struggled harder and longer than usual, Thor snorting in amusement at Steve’s attempts to free himself, completely unaware of why Steve was struggling.
“Do you submit?” he repeated, once Steve’s efforts had died down.
“Yeah,” he answered. “I do.”
Thor rolled off of him, sitting up, and Steve bit back a disappointed sigh at the loss of Thor’s weight on him. “Good matches, Captain Rogers,” Thor said, pushing himself up to his feet, and then reaching down to help Steve up. He lay on his back for a few moments, still red-faced and frustrated, before reaching up to grab the proffered hand and letting Thor lift him like he weighed nothing more than a rag doll.
He patted Steve on the shoulder, the force of the gesture running through him. Steve stayed in the center of the ring, watching Thor as he lifted the ropes and ducked under before hopping down from the mats. Thor was graceful and powerful in the same measure, just how Bucky had been, moving with a practiced ease. They were both so in control of their movements, comfortable with their bodies and strength in a way Steve had only seen a handful of men like that, and in a way that he hadn’t quite mastered himself.
Steve waited in the center of the ring, panting slightly, until Thor had left the room.
Two days later, Steve asked Thor for more rounds in the ring.
Thor’s surprise that Steve kept coming back for more had been evident, but regardless of his bewilderment, he agreed. They settled on that afternoon, Steve packing his bag and heading down around three. He loosened up while waiting on Thor, throwing aimless punches at the air and using a speed bag for a few minutes.
At the sound of Thor’s footsteps creaking the wood floor, Steve stopped abruptly, dropping his arms and looking at the doorway. Thor stepped inside, pulling his duffel bag off his shoulder and setting it on the ground. It was always strange to see him in such casual clothes; Thor always carried himself with such an air of regality that the cape seemed to be a necessity.
“Did I keep you waiting?” he asked, nudging the bag with one gym-shoe-clad foot.
“No, no,” Steve said, shaking his head. He’d been down here less than five minutes, and for matches with Thor, he’d be willing to wait a lot more.
“Good.” Thor smiled, quickly stretching out his arms as he sauntered toward the ring. Steve watched his muscles flex, trying to ignore the eager fluttering in his chest at thinking about how easily that muscle could hold and restrain him.
Thor climbed up into the ring, ducking under the ropes, and Steve followed suit, Thor walking slowly in a circle around the ring. He and Steve exchanged nods, and waited a few more minutes, Steve rolling his shoulders while Thor sized him up.
“Are you ready?”
“Born ready,” Steve returned, holding his hands up.
Thor laughed, his posture shifting to mirror Steve’s--feet a bit wider than shoulder width, knees bent, half-crouched, arms raised. For a moment, neither of them moved, and then Steve struck, swinging his arm in an arc that was purposely wide. Thor caught him, sidestepped him, and swung at Steve, who raised his arm to block the blow.
This time he actually put up a fight, and managed to last a few minutes before Thor caught him off guard, flipped him and then pinned him on his stomach, one hand wrenching Steve’s arm up his back. Steve scrabbled on the floor, trying to push himself free with his remaining arm, but that one was quickly pressed down, too.
There it was, that delicious feeling, and pinned on his stomach made it all the easier to focus on the pleasure of being restrained, of being roughly handled. Steve grunted in order to hide the groan that threatened to escape his lips.
Thor didn’t notice his momentary lapse of concentration, however, instead tightening his grip on Steve’s wrists. “Submit?” he asked, panting lightly.
Thor let him up, Steve pulling his arm off his back and pushing himself up. They circled one another again, and as they rushed at one another, Steve wondered how long it would take before Thor caught on to this, caught on to the fact that Steve always lost. Would he let Steve win a match, just to boost his confidence, like Steve sometimes did with Tony (although he would never, ever admit it)?
When Steve was slammed into the mats again, Thor’s leg over his torso, keeping him down at the neck, his arm pinned into the floor, Steve thought not.
As he pulled and tugged, Steve realized that he liked it better when Thor was on him, was pressed close to him and not just pinning his wrists or pressing a knee into his back, and so the next few times he deliberately let Thor fall on him, being very careful to hide his arousal when it struck. He was already flushed and panting from the physical exertion of fighting; it was a small matter to cover up a groan or a moan.
The last time Thor pinned him, however, Steve gasped as Thor pressed his shoulders into the mat, the hold so reminiscent of how he’d spent to many nights being fucked that he was caught up in a memory, and the gasp had morphed into a small moan before Steve could stop it. Thor didn’t shy away, however, instead eyeing Steve with a predatory hunger.
Thor didn’t ask him that time if he submitted. He got up, silently, striding toward the corner of the ring, his back to Steve. “Are we done for today?”
“Yeah, I think we’re good.”
Thor nodded, casting a glance back at Steve before he ducked under the ropes. Steve sat up in the center of the ring, watching him go, Thor dipping to snag his duffel on the way out. He knew Thor hadn’t asked if Steve submitted because Thor knew. Maybe not the full picture, but Steve was certain he was beginning to suspect.
If Thor knew, however, it didn’t change his behavior toward Steve.
They continued sparring on and off for two weeks, and Steve was much more careful to restrain his behavior around him. In private, though, his thoughts were free to roam. On a few occasions, he had indulged himself, entertaining fantasies of Thor using him roughly, holding him down and manhandling him, while he pleasured himself. There was always the momentary rush of shame afterwards, one that would inevitably flare up again when he saw Thor the next time, but it always passed and Steve didn’t stop thinking about him. After all, Thor didn’t know what he was doing, and if he did, it apparently didn’t bother him.
Or so Steve thought.
He collided with the mat again, on his back this time, Thor’s hand wrapped lightly around his throat. In another second, the rest of Thor was on him, his other hand joining the first on Steve’s neck as Thor straddled him. Steve tried to shift, tried to keep Thor from sitting directly on his groin, because he hadn’t been as careful today, and he knew that with Thor sitting on him like that, holding him down, it would simply be too much.
Thor took it as an act of defiance, snarling, which made Steve suck in a quick breath and try to think of the unsexiest things he could, but the pressing image of Thor, brows furrowed in anger, lips curled in a sneer, pervaded his mind’s eye.
And then all of Thor’s weight was resting on him and Steve tried to keep still, so very still, but Thor shifted on him, leaning forward, and that was it. Steve could feel his half-hard cock pressing into Thor’s thigh, and he turned away in shame as the snarl vanished from Thor’s face, his eyes going wide as his hands slackened on Steve’s throat.
Thor looked confused and embarrassed, and he released Steve, standing up without a word and walking to the corner of the ring. Steve remained on his back, drawing his knees up and putting his hands over his face.
“Jesus, fuck, Thor, I’m sorry,” he ground out.
“Think nothing of it,” Thor said, but Steve could hear the humiliation in his voice. “I did not think our sessions...affected you so.”
Steve sat up just before Thor ducked under the ropes. “Wait,” he said, and to his surprise, Thor stopped, standing outside the ropes but still on the mat. “Will you let me...explain?”
Thor seemed bewildered by Steve’s claim of an explanation, but he stopped, one hand still resting on the ropes.
“I...back when I was younger, before I had the serum, Bucky and I would sometimes...” his voice trailed off, hand moving in a little circle, hoping that Thor would just get the picture. “And he was so much bigger than me, and he’d treat me rough sometimes, and...I liked it.” Steve sighed. God, this was so embarrassing. “And after the serum it just wasn’t the same, because I knew I was so much stronger than him. And I didn’t think I’d ever find anybody who could...use me the same way.”
Thor nodded in acknowledgment.
“And then I started fighting you, because you were a good match and I realized just how much stronger you were me. And it was so much like it was before that I just got...carried away.” He paused, searching Thor’s face for any kind of understanding, but finding it impassive. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...used you like that.”
There was a long, uncomfortable silence between them, and Steve wondered if he should have just let Thor go, just let him leave and never talk about this. Just when he was ready to get up and leave himself, Thor spoke.
“Did you ever...purposely lose a match?”
“No, never,” Steve answered. It wasn’t a lie. “I knew I’d lose eventually anyway, and you’re the only person on this team who’s stronger than me. There’d be no point to throw it.”
Thor blinked, and gave a slow nod.
“I...Regardless, I’m sorry for all this,” Steve said, pushing himself to his feet. Thor gave him a sad look, not pitying but was mournful, and as Thor ducked under the ropes and walked out of the room, snagging his bag on the way out, Steve wondered if he’d just lost a friend.
“Fuck,” he whispered to the empty room.
Steve didn’t see Thor the next morning.
For the most part, he was grateful that he’d avoided his teammate, unsure of how he would handle any conversation with Thor. There was also the humiliating possibility that Thor would use his revelations against him or throw them back in his face, although Steve didn’t think that was likely. It was more likely that Thor would just avoid him, would function well on the team and continue to socialize with everyone else, but keep his distance from Steve.
After breakfast, some time spent lounging around sketching and nibbling PowerBars, and hassling Tony in his workshop, Steve meandered back to his room, to put his sketchbook away and perhaps find some lunch. He was absorbed in his thoughts, planning out the rest of his afternoon, when he rounded a corner and nearly walked into Thor.
Instead of some condescending or condemning look, Thor regarded him with a small smile, his eyes turning up at the corners. “Captain Rogers,” he said, nodding in acknowledgment.
“Thor.” Steve stared down at the floor, putting his arms behind his back.
They stood in awkward silence for a moment, Steve digging his nails into his skin and wondering why he hadn’t simply continued on his way and gone around Thor to disappear around the corner. Finally, Thor patted him on the shoulder. Steve, startled by the gesture, looked up in confusion and bewilderment.
“Are you busy?”
“Then we should spar.” Thor smiled again, just like yesterday hadn’t happened, just like Steve hadn’t rubbed his hard-on right into his crotch after their match.
“Are we still on for that?” Steve asked, not wanting to look ungrateful for Thor apparently overlooking that incident, but still trying to be certain that this wasn’t some kind of a cruel joke.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Thor shrugged, tilting his head slightly, and Steve blinked. He patted Steve again, Steve’s arms falling to his sides now, and strode off. “I’ll meet you downstairs, Captain.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said, watching Thor stride off. He shook his head in mild disbelief and went to change.
Strangely, Steve somehow expected Thor to go easier on him, now that he knew about Steve’s ulterior motives. But Thor didn’t, instead manhandling Steve rougher, to the point of genuine pain at some times (although he instantly let up if Steve yelped in shock or asked him to). That predatory, domineering attitude was back, Thor snarling and growling at several points when he wrestled Steve to the ground.
With a loud, disgruntled “Oof!” Steve hit the mats once more, this time on his back, the wind instantly knocked out of him. Thor had flipped him over and slammed him into the mats, and as Steve lay there, dazed, Thor pounced on him. Steve’s wrists were pinned up near his head, Thor’s weight resting on his body, straddling him again, and Steve found it an uncomfortable repeat of their incident yesterday.
Before Thor could even ask him, Steve said, “I submit. Let me up.”
But Thor remained where he was, licking his lips. A few strands of his hair had fallen loose from his ponytail, and they dangled dangerously close to Steve’s face as Thor leaned forward.
“Thor, I submit,” Steve repeated, his voice cracking midway through.
Steve froze, and they locked eyes for a moment, Thor’s gaze predatory. For a second, neither moved, Thor’s body a warm weight on Steve’s, and then, ever so slowly, Thor leaned forward the rest of the way and pressed his lips to Steve.
He was so different from Bucky, and that that helped Steve to separate the two in his mind. Thor smelled like musk and sweat and vaguely like shampoo. His beard scratched against Steve’s face softly, and his body was warm and solid along every inch that they touched. They just laid there for a moment, lips locked, until Thor groaned against him and Steve let his mouth go slack in pleasure.
After a moment, Thor pulled away, resting his hand on the side of Steve’s face. “I find you very handsome, Steve Rogers, and if you would be willing, I would—”
“God, yes,” Steve said, not letting Thor finish and grabbing a fistful of his hair, pulling him back for another embrace. Thor was handsome, there wasn’t any denying it; he’d seen the way Natasha sometimes looked at him, or the way Maria did. Steve didn’t normally pay attention to men, but Thor had caught his eye once or twice even before their sparring had ramped up his desires.
Their kiss turned frantic, Thor’s hands roaming boldly up and down Steve’s body, squeezing and dragging roughly, groping him wherever they could, and Steve tangled his fingers in Thor’s hair, pulling it free of the little elastic band he’d used to secure it. They were kissing and Steve’s body was on fire and Thor seemed to want all of him, hands kneading his ass, his shoulders, knotting in his hair, pulling him close, grinding their hips together.
Steve retaliated by licking a stripe on Thor’s throat and kissing his collarbone. When Thor settled his weight on him, a flash of pleasure arced through Steve as he realized just how big Thor was, just how strong and heavy he could be even without trying to hold him down.
As Thor started to grind their hips together, his mouth pressing into the junction of Steve’s neck and shoulder while Steve frotted with him, he realized where they were. “Thor,” he hissed, “we can’t do this here.”
The groan of disappointment Thor made was utterly delicious. Regardless, he sat back after a moment, staring at Steve expectantly, eyes wide, lips red and slick.
“My room,” Steve said, running one hand down the outside of Thor’s thigh, feeling the hard muscle beneath his skin and thin blue gym shorts. Thor nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he rose, picking up the little elastic band on his way out of the ring.
He waited for Steve by the doorway, pulling his hair back as Steve grabbed their things and joined him. It was a short, tense walk to the elevator, and a slightly longer one to Steve’s room. They both paused for a moment, making sure that no one was around, and then Steve shoved the door open and yanked Thor inside, locking the door before Thor shoved him up against the wall.
Steve’s wrists were pinned to the drywall in another second, Thor pressing close to him, shoving one of his thighs between Steve’s. Their hips collided, Thor pressing against him in a delicious fit of friction, and Steve gasped until Thor covered his mouth in a kiss. He arched his back, pressing his chest to Thor’s and pulling against the restraints at his wrists. Thor tightened his hold, squeezing harder as his lips moving off his to kiss and bite down Steve’s throat.
Thor’s hand shifted down, gripping his upper thighs now, and Steve found himself roughly shoved against the wall again as Thor picked him up, supporting him at the hips and allowing Steve to wrap his legs around him. Thor never broke their kiss as he stepped back from the wall, but he did once as he carried Steve to the bathroom, setting him down gently on the counter beside the sink.
Steve dropped his legs and panted for breath while Thor reached to his right and turned on the shower, turning the dial and drawing the door closed to keep the floor dry while the water warmed up. With his legs free, Steve kicked off his shoes and socks, Thor smothering him in another kiss as he started to pull up Steve’s shirt. Steve obliged him, raising his arms so Thor could pull it off easily, tossing it beside his shoes and socks.
Steve reached out to try and touch Thor, to pull him back as Thor fell to his knees, but Thor batted his arms away like they were nothing. Instead, he focused on pulling down Steve’s gym shorts, Steve bracing himself and lifting his hips to help, tugging them and his jockstrap off and dropping them to the floor before pushing Steve’s legs open.
Steve always had the urge to shut his legs and hide his body, an instinct that had been ingrained in him back before the serum, when he was still sickly, when his body had been something to be ashamed of instead of something to be respected. But Thor’s hands, planted firmly just above Steve’s knees, kept his legs open, and Steve looked down at Thor hesitantly. His eyes were dark, hungry, and Thor flicked his gaze up at Steve while one hand crept from his thigh to grasp Steve’s half-hard cock.
He shivered when Thor lightly squeezed and pumped, and then sucked in a breath as Thor’s head dipped forward. As Thor took him into his mouth, flicking his tongue across the slit before sliding his lips down, Steve gasped, trying to buck his hips forward, but Thor’s hands shifted up, holding him in place. He was left helplessly staring down at Thor, whose lips were stretched wide around his cock, eyes lowered in concentration. Watching Thor bob his head, Steve’s cock sliding in and out of his mouth, had to be one of the most erotic things Steve had ever seen, and he reached down, placing one hand on the back of Thor’s head and squeezing a fistful of blond hair.
Steve let his head loll back against the mirror as Thor continued to work him, hollowing his cheeks and sucking, swirling and teasing the head of Steve’s cock with his tongue. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a half formed question about just how Thor had gotten so good at fellatio drifted forth, but Steve realized he didn’t really care, not right now when Thor was sucking Steve with such urgency. One of the hands on his hip slid forward, to work the base of Steve’s cock that Thor couldn’t fit into his mouth, but the other held him in place, prevented him from thrusting into Thor’s mouth, a not-so-subtle reminder that Thor was in charge, even if he might be on his knees.
A few times Thor leaned all the way forward, his nose brushing the soft curls at the base of Steve’s cock as he took all of him in, and Steve nearly came twice at the sight of Thor moaning and gagging on his erection. Thor could tell that Steve was close, backing off both times, Steve whimpering as the urgency and need started to fade.
He could see the fog clouding the shower door, could feel how hot and humid the room had become, and Steve tugged languidly on Thor’s hair as he continued to work him, trying to give him the hint that they should move to the shower. This time, however, Thor didn’t let up, swallowing Steve down despite his protesting whimpers.
“Thor, stop,” he murmured, trying to tug him off. “I’m gonna--”
Thor looked up at him, his eyes glinting with what Steve could only describe as mischief, and smiled around his cock. Steve tilted his head back and shuddered through his orgasm, his skin prickling, thighs trembling, hips rocking as much as Thor would allow, Thor never pulling off him, groaning around Steve’s erection as he finished.
Only when Steve was weakly pushing him away, his skin too oversensitive to handle Thor’s continued ministrations, did Thor let up, Steve’s wet cock slipping from his lips. Thor’s hair was mussed, his face ruddy and flushed, red lips swollen and glossed with saliva and semen, a tiny trail of the fluids leaking down his chin. Steve reached down, beckoning Thor to stand back up. As he did, Steve pulled him close for a kiss again, reaching down to grasp the hem of Thor’s shirt and pull it over his head.
His shorts were discarded as well, kicked off with his shoes, and then Thor stood there for a moment, letting Steve’s eyes run up and down his body. His cock was stiff between his legs, not fully hard but certainly aroused, and Steve found himself admiring all of the muscles shifting beneath Thor’s skin as he stepped forward and helped Steve off the counter. A careful nudge got Steve inside the shower, and then Thor was closing in on him, pulling the door shut behind him and pushing him back up against the wall.
Thor buried his face in Steve’s neck, kissing him softly while Steve let his arms roam up and down Thor’s body, clutching at his shoulders and moaning when Thor’s stiffening cock pressed into his thigh. A jolt of pleasure hit him when Thor sank his teeth into the junction of Steve’s neck and shoulder, hard, so hard that Steve worried for a moment that he had broken the skin. It was a carnal, primal mark, and Steve writhed against him, gasping in surprise.
With concern in his eyes, Thor pulled back to stare at Steve, obviously wondering if he’d actually hurt him, but Steve shook his head no. He hadn’t broken the skin, and being bitten and marked was something he liked, recalling the bruises Bucky had often left on his hips and arms.
He wondered what it would take for Thor to leave the same.
The thought blanked his mind for a moment, and another hard bite drew him back to reality. When he gasped in shock, Thor stopped, resorting to just kissing and touching Steve. They continued to exchange embraces while they washed off, Steve finding his shampoo and soap and cleaning both of them. He liked how Thor’s hair stuck to his face and shoulders, how it looked when it was wet and pushed back, how it felt to run his fingers through it as he rinsed it out.
Thor stood behind him, getting the last few suds out of Steve’s hair, his fingers scratching his scalp in a way that Steve found oddly arousing, with his other hand loosely placed around Steve’s stomach, holding him in place. When he finished, Steve’s clean hair plastered to his forehead, Thor pushed him into the wall, rough but not hard enough to make him slip or hurt himself, pinning Steve’s arms above his head. Hot lips were on the back of his neck, moving to kiss and bite his shoulder, and the hand that had been on his hips drifted around to Steve’s backside.
He fidgeted in anticipation as Thor’s hand cupped one of his buttocks, squeezing it roughly, and he felt Thor’s forehead come to rest on his shoulder. “Thor,” he pleaded as Thor’s hand slid up, delving between the cheeks of Steve’s ass, his fingers seeking out Steve’s entrance and lightly pressing against it. Steve pushed back insistently, aware that Thor’s fingers didn’t have any slick on them, but wanting to be penetrated regardless. Yet all Thor did was press and tease and rub, much to Steve’s chagrin.
“Thor, please, just--”
“No,” he replied, squeezing Steve’s wrists and biting him again.
Steve mumbled something incoherent and then arched his back, rolling his hips up in one last, vain effort to get Thor to indulge him. Thor growled, his beard scraping lightly against Steve’s shoulder, and then the hand was pulled away. Steve was about to mourn the loss when that same hand cracked across his backside in a hard spank, one that jarred Steve’s hips forward in surprise and sent a stab of pleasure through him.
He gasped, pushing back, and Thor slapped him again, his hand shifting down to rake up Steve’s thigh, leaving a small set of red scratches on his leg.
“Bed, now,” Thor ordered. Steve nodded, rubbing his face against the tiles. He couldn’t think straight, and Thor was the one who turned the water off and gently led Steve out of the shower. Steve stood there, dripping, while Thor snagged a fluffy towel off the bar, smothering Steve’s head and briskly rubbing it around before going over the rest of his body. The friction was rough and good, Thor scratching and groping various parts of him while he dried Steve off.
The towel was finally slung over his shoulder, and so was Steve, like a captive maiden, one of Thor’s strong arms wrapped around his hips to hold him securely in place as he walked back into the bedroom. Steve was too shocked by the action and overwhelmed by the sensation; this was something Bucky had never done for him, because Bucky had never been quite this strong or this dominant. It should have been humiliating, really, being carried around like a spoil of war, but Steve could feel all the strong muscles of Thor’s arm squeezing his thighs, could feel the hard planes of his shoulders and back, and he comforted himself with the justification that Thor was the only person he would ever allow to carry him like this.
He didn’t expect Thor to set him down gracefully, perhaps just tossing him down like he’d seen depicted in movies and stories, and when Thor half-dropped, half-guided him down onto the bed, Steve figured that had gone just about as well as it could have. He parted his legs as Thor laid down on top of him again, Thor resting himself on his elbows, one placed on either side of Steve’s head. They kissed and nuzzled for a few minutes, Thor grinding his half-hard cock against Steve, who responded eagerly.
And then Thor, without warning, sat back, spreading the towel out on the bed, smoothing it out over the sheets as Steve watched curiously. Thor’s brow was furrowed in concentration, his damp hair clinging to his face in patches before he impatiently raked it back. Steve let his eyes wander further down, taking in Thor’s broad shoulders, his narrow hips, the soft trail of hair that led from his navel to his cock, which was again hard and red, just begging to be touched. When Thor noticed him quietly observing, he grabbed one of Steve’s knees, flipped him over, and then hauled him so that his hips rested on the towel. A hand was placed at the small of his back, the other lightly skimming over Steve’s backside again, and he fidgeted in anticipation.
“Lube’s in the nightstand,” he rushed. “Condoms are there, too.”
Thor patted his thigh in acknowledgment, and then Steve felt his weight leave the bed. He dropped his head onto the sheets, closing his eyes briefly while Thor rustled through his drawers. Steve’s bed creaked when Thor crawled back on it, sliding up against Steve and kissing his shoulder blade. Wanting to see Thor, Steve tried to turn on his back, but a strong forearm pushed him back on his stomach, holding him on the sheets. Steve heard the plastic snap of Thor undoing the cap on the bottle of lube, and he tried to get Thor to let him up, to struggle just for the sake of struggling, but Thor just pushed harder, reminding Steve that Thor was and always would be stronger than him.
He couldn’t help but gasp when Thor’s hand settled between the cheeks of his ass once more, thick fingers gently teasing his entrance, which twitched eagerly in anticipation. There was the urge to push back, like he had done in the shower, but before Steve could even act on that desire Thor had hooked a leg over his thigh, pinning him down and preventing even that, leaving Steve’s ass exposed and at Thor’s mercy.
As Thor’s finger breached him, Steve groaned, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets and squirming. It was both frustrating and arousing to be held down like this, to be rendered helpless, and Steve continued to test Thor, trying to push himself up or free his legs. Thor just growled in his ear and slid his finger deeper, slowly fucking Steve on it, giving him a few minutes to adjust before he roughly shoved another slick digit in.
Moans and soft curses were tumbling from Steve’s mouth as Thor scissored his fingers, pushing down on Steve’s prostate and sending flashes of pleasure straight to his cock. Through his squirming, Steve had discovered that he could push his hips down into the towel and sheets to get some friction. It wasn’t as rewarding as struggling against Thor’s holds, however, but Steve did it anyway, just for the annoyed hiss Thor would make when he caught him.
At three fingers, Steve didn’t think he’d be able to take much more. He could feel just how stretched he was, pleasure nearly bordering on pain, and Thor sensed the change in Steve’s demeanor, stilling his fingers for a few moments to give Steve time to adjust. When Steve relaxed again, Thor went back to fucking him, to sliding his fingers in as deep as they would go and twisting them, his breathing ragged and desperate in Steve’s ear. Steve hadn’t done this in years, and Bucky was the only man that Steve had ever been with before Thor.
Steve was ready to beg for Thor’s cock by the time he slid his fingers out, and if Thor hadn’t stopped soon Steve would have. He didn’t care how wanton or whorish he would’ve looked--he was hot and desperate, his cock aching between his legs, and he knew that Thor must have been getting impatient, too.
He was released for a moment while Thor tore the foil wrapper on the condom open, and Steve reached for the lube, handing it back to him just as Thor finished rolling the condom down over his erection. He took the lube from Steve, and then grabbed Steve by the hips, flipping him over and spreading his legs before Steve could protest. The cap of the lube was swiftly undone and a fair amount poured in Thor’s hand, Steve watching as Thor fisted his cock a few times to coat it in slick.
Thor settled himself, sitting back on his heels, and then reached for Steve, dragging him forward and pulling his hips into his lap, Steve’s legs falling open around Thor. Thor’s hands clutched at Steve’s hips, squeezing hard, and then Steve felt his cock slide between the cheeks of his ass, hard and slick, his entrance twitching as Thor’s cock brushed it.
“Stop me if it hurts,” Thor said, and there was genuine care in his voice. Steve craned his neck to look down and nodded.
One of Thor’s hands left his hip, and then Steve felt the blunt head of Thor’s cock pressing against his hole. He inhaled sharply as Thor began to push forward, the head stretching him, but wasn’t until Thor was midway in that the stretch almost became too much. With Steve gasping and panting beneath him, Thor stilled to let him adjust.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m okay,” Steve murmured. “Keep going.”
By the time Thor bottomed out in him, Steve was half-convinced he’d be feeling this tomorrow, his hole clenching down on the base of Thor’s erection. Thor was bigger than Bucky had been, and Steve hadn’t done this in so long. He’d forgotten how to make his body go pliant, how to just relax and take it.
When Thor slid back out and then pushed back in in his first tentative, shaky thrust, moving Steve’s entire body via the hands on his hips, Steve moaned and arched his back. His hands grasped at the sheets on either side of his head, seeking anything to hold on to as Thor pulled back and thrust in again, this time more vigorously, Steve’s entire body moving with the force of the thrust.
From this position, Steve was almost helpless. Thor was setting their pace, in charge of how deep and how fast he penetrated Steve, and all Steve could do was wrap his legs around Thor and vainly try to pull him deeper. Thor held Steve still while he slammed into him, two hands digging bruises into Steve’s hips as he kept him stationery.
Steve looked down their bodies, watching as Thor fucked him, eyes half-closed in pleasure, shivering and groaning when Thor brushed his prostate on every thrust. His whole body was shifted when Thor began pulling him down further on his cock with each thrust, adding a vulgar little squelch to the slap of flesh against flesh. Thor was concentrated on his task, holding Steve’s hips tightly while he pistoned into him, grunting softly to punctuate each stroke, and Steve reveled in the sight of Thor’s hips snapping into him, muscles flexing as his hard cock slid in and out.
As he watched his own erection bob against his belly, Steve wanted to reach down and touch himself, wanted to fist his erection in time with Thor’s thrusts. One hand dared to venture there, sliding over his belly to reach for himself, but Thor scoffed and jostled him with an extra deep stroke. Steve yelped, plan momentarily forgotten and then Thor’s hands left his hips, sliding down the backs of his thighs to find Steve’s knees.
Thor pushed his arms forward, bringing Steve’s knees to his shoulders, bending him in half as Thor bore down on him and trapped Steve’s cock between them. Steve twisted and struggled testingly under Thor’s weight, finding that no matter how hard he pushed, Thor didn’t even budge.
The realization that he was basically helpless sent a stab of pleasure through him, one that nestled in his lower belly and made his cock twitch. Thor began to thrust again, hard, hard enough that the springs in the bed creaked, Steve’s lower legs draped over his shoulders, bobbing with each one. When Steve whimpered, longing for some attention for his straining cock, Thor braced himself on one hand, slipping the other between them. The loss of support caused him to pitch forward a bit more onto Steve, squishing him a bit more, but the discomfort was more than bearable.
Thor’s lube-slicked hand closed around Steve’s cock, and began to work him in time with Thor’s thrusts, since Steve couldn’t move of his own accord. It was all too much--the friction on his length, Thor’s hard, deep strokes, the fact that he was squeezed and folded into two with no chance of reprieve--and Steve knew he wouldn’t last much longer, especially not after Thor’s earlier ministrations.
Steve could feel how warm Thor was, reveling in the heat aginst him and the rapid snap of his hips on each thrust. Thor was grunting with each stroke, his thrusts faster and harder, and Steve tilted his head back, panting. His skin was tingling, his body hot trapped under Thor, and he reached up, fumbling until he grasped a fistful of Thor’s hair and dragged him down for a kiss.
He groaned as Thor squeezed his cock, twisting his hand and thumbing the head, and then Steve gave in, pleasure wracking his body in a series of convulsions, Steve arching his back and pushing against Thor in desperation. No matter how hard he strained, Thor didn’t budge, didn’t break his rhythm, and Steve cried out, thrashing underneath Thor.
“Fuck, Thor,” he gasped, thighs quivering. He spilled between them, covering Thor’s hand and their stomachs, shuddering and panting as his body clenched down on Thor. Startled, Thor inhaled sharply in his ear, coupled with a few quick, harsh thrusts, ones that meant that Thor was close, and Steve gripped his shoulders as Thor finally groaned, his thrusts slowing to a few long, drawn out strokes before he finally stilled in Steve.
For a few minutes, neither moved, Thor still lying on him, Steve’s legs still dangling off his shoulders, both of them trying to catch their breath. Thor pressed his forehead to Steve’s, letting Steve’s legs slide off his shoulders as he nuzzled and kissed him. Steve wrapped his legs around Thor’s waist, wanting to prolong this moment, lazily kissing back.
This was different from what he had done with Bucky. Bucky had never held him after, never planted slow, messy kisses on him after they were done fucking, and Steve had sometimes felt like a convenient body to fuck. He knew that hadn’t been true, knew that Bucky loved him in his own way, but he supposed it had been too intimate for Bucky--for both of them, really--back then, but Thor was content to sigh into Steve’s skin and lay there.
When Thor finally withdrew from him, pulling the condom off and tossing it in the trash, Steve realized just how messy his current state was, and he glanced in the direction of the bathroom, knowing that he’d have to get cleaned up before he could sleep and wondering if Thor wanted to take another shower before he left the room. If he wanted to leave the room. Steve didn’t want him to, but didn’t Thor to feel obligated to stay. So he turned away, trying to not to influence his decision, but Thor reached one large hand over and pulled Steve’s face back to look at his, pressing their lips together once more.
“I will stay.” It wasn’t quite a command, but Steve heard the undertone in Thor’s voice, the unspoken question that told Steve that Thor wanted to stay as much as he wanted him to. He settled back down across Thor, letting the other man pull him closer.
“Okay.” Steve draped his arm around Thor’s shoulders as Thor laid his head on his chest. “What time are we sparring tomorrow, then?”