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To Be Redeemed

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Steve steps into the elevator of his apartment building and presses the button for his floor. Just as the doors are closing, a figure in a dark suit and green tie darts in with him. “What floor?” Steve enquires.

“Yours,” says a vaguely familiar voice.

Steve looks up to see if it’s one of his neighbors and immediately tenses. “Loki? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in Asgard?”

“Good evening, Captain. I escaped,” he replies simply. “I disliked Asgard’s idea of justice, so I left.”

The soldier notices the small duffel bag the god is carrying. “Too difficult?” His eyes dart around to determine if anything might be useful in a fight. There’s nothing.

“Too boring,” the Trickster corrects. “Too lenient. And I am here, because I was hoping you might rectify that.”

“Me? How?”

The elevator doors open before Loki can answer. They step out into the corridor, but Steve makes no other move. “I want you to pass sentence on me and deliver my punishment,” the god replies as he leads the way to the soldier’s apartment.

“Why me?” The soldier has no choice but to follow.

“Because you are the only one I trust. I know you will be fair and that you will understand why I need this.” He stops at Steve’s door.

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand. Is this some kind of trick? Or a test?”

“No, Captain,” Loki says with slight impatience. “I wish to be punished so that I may be redeemed. I know what I did was wrong. I know I must pay. But I wish to do so in a manner that will wipe away the stain of my deeds…at least to myself,” the Liesmith tells him. “I believe you can do that for me. I believe you can give me the punishment I deserve.” He hands Captain America the bag he’s been carrying. “In here are various items you might find useful.” The soldier refuses to take it. “Please, let us go inside. I will explain further. I promise.”

Steve doesn’t trust the Trickster. “Open the bag. Show me the contents.”

Loki unzips the duffel and widens the opening so that the Captain can see inside. There appears to be various ropes and some handcuffs. Nothing seems particularly dangerous. Steve nods and unlocks the door. He takes the bag from Loki before they both step inside.

The apartment is comprised of three rooms. There’s a tiny kitchen, a tiny bathroom, and an only slightly larger space that contains a small bed, a nightstand, a tv, a card table, and two chairs. “How Spartan,” the Trickster says upon entering. “Does the government not pay for your housing?”

“New York is expensive,” is all the soldier says as he walks to the table. He puts the duffel bag on top and takes off the brown leather jacket he’s wearing over a white dress shirt. He offers one of the seats to the god before taking the other. “I’m sorry, I still don’t understand. Why me? Why not Thor or Stark or one of the others?”

“Quite simply because they are not you. Stark did not leave me with a good impression. He is a drunkard and too full of himself. Agent Romanoff would interrogate me or try to punish me psychologically. That is not what I seek. Dr. Banner is too meek, and the Hulk is too violent. Agent Barton…Agent Barton might be interesting, actually, but as he is one of my victims, I felt he would not be as controlled as you. I do not believe he can give me what I need, and quite simply I do not want it to be him. And Thor…Well, Thor would just take me back to Asgard. Does that help explain?”

Steve shrugs and begins pulling items out of the bag. There are two handcuffs and several pieces of rope as he had first seen. But then he pulls out a riding crop and a wooden paddle. There’s also a small whip, a black sleeping mask, and various handkerchiefs. He additionally finds a box of matches and a sheathed blade. And down in one of the corners is a package of condoms and a bottle of K-Y Jelly. He carefully puts those on the table and looks up at the god with questioning eyes.

“In case you…decide…desire…to…,” he licks his lips.

“And that’s punishment you’re okay with?”

“Well, to be honest, I wouldn’t exactly consider that punishment.”

“You wouldn’t?” The soldier slowly asks, “So you’d be okay with me…?”

Loki looks directly into the Captain’s blue eyes and confesses, “I would be more than okay with you entering me…should you feel the need. Now perhaps you understand why it has to be you.”

Steve can’t look into those green eyes anymore. If he were to do…that with the god…Loki wouldn’t be his first. Well, he would be the first guy. He’d also be the first one not paid by anyone. (Bucky paid for the first. Tony paid the second. Steve found out about both during the encounters but before the actual sex. He wouldn’t have slept with them if they had been nice girls.)

“But the primary purpose of all this is to punish me,” Loki explains, trying to bring the Captain back to the present, to bring the focus back to the bag’s other contents. “You may do that however you think best. You are in charge. You can do whatever you like to me.”

Steve looks at the objects in front of him. “Why would I want to hurt you with any of these things?”

“Take your pick: Attempted fratricide, taking over Agent Barton’s mind, killing over 60 Midgardians, destroying the government’s air base, opening the doorway for the Chitari invasion, escaping Asgard. There are many things I need to atone for. Choose one or two or all of them. Then tie me to your bed and punish me. And no matter what I say or what I do, do not stop until you are satisfied…completely satisfied.”

“I’m not comfortable with this. What if I go too far?”

“Then I’ll say a word…Yggdrasil. If I say Yggdrasil, that will be my way of telling you to stop.”

“Why don’t you just tell me to stop?” The question is sincere and open and innocent.

The God of Mischief swallows and tries to explain with that same mixture. “If I tell you to stop, it may be the Trickster in me, the one who doesn’t wish to be redeemed. I need to feel as though I am truly paying for my crimes. It is the only way I can put them behind me, to move forward guilt-free and ready to make amends. If I tell you to stop, it is the old me saying it. The me trying to change does want you to go on,” the Liesmith gently tells him. “Though, to be honest, it’s highly doubtful that word will escape my lips, not when I have so much for which to pay.”

Loki waits for a reaction but gets none. Steve is thinking it over, looking at the various items on the table.

“Do you think you can do this for me, Captain Rogers? Do you think you can help purge away my sins?”

Steve looks at the god whose green eyes are pleading for deliverance. “You really think it will help?”

“I know it will.”

Steve nods his acquiescence. Loki, a relieved smile on his lips, takes off his jacket and tie and carefully places them on the back of his chair. Next, he removes his shoes and socks. He looks at the soldier who stares back and slowly unbuttons his shirt. He removes that, too, as well as the white a-shirt beneath. The Trickster notes with relish how the Captain’s breath catches ever so slightly as soon as his chest is bare. Then he rises and unfastens his trousers.

“What are you doing?” Steve asks, a hint of panic in his voice.

“I do not wish to get my suit dirty,” he responds innocently as he lets the trousers drop to the floor. He steps out of them then picks them up. He folds them neatly and lays them across the back of the chair. Now only his dark green boxers remain. With one swift motion, he pushes them down.

Steve stares at Loki’s dick for moment, long enough to note it’s length and how pale it looks against the nest of dark hair, then quickly looks guiltily up into the green eyes before averting his gaze entirely.

“It’s quite all right to look,” the God of Mischief assures him. “I don’t mind.” He walks to the bed, feeling the soldier’s eyes on his body. He smiles confidently but quickly drops it before turning back to his host. He re-adopts the innocent attitude. “Should I remove the covers, or are you fine with me lying on top of them?”

“Um..I, uh, I guess remove them.”

Loki knows his own body, knows how to make it enticing. He bends and stretches in his most seductive manner as he removes the cover and top sheet from the bed. Then he lies face down, stretching out his arms and legs to the four corners of the bed, waiting for the Captain to tie him up. The anticipation now that he is so close is sweeter than he imagined.

The soldier brings the ropes. Handcuffs seem too dangerous. At least ropes can be easily cut free. He ties the god’s wrists to the bed first then he does the same with the ankles. Loki tugs at them to ensure the knots are strong enough. He is satisfied that they are. Steve returns to the table. “Which one should I use?”

“That decision is yours, Captain. Choose whichever one speaks to you.”

Steve looks over the various items. Immediately he rules out the knife and the matches. That leaves essentially the riding crop, the whip, and the paddle. He bites his bottom lip as he considers the options. His hand reaches for the whip. It has a six-inch handle with about 20 individual foot-long strands of black-suede leather. The leather is soft, supple, but it will sting when slapped down on someone’s skin.

Whip in hand, he walks slowly back to the naked form tied to his bed. The Captain licks his lips nervously then brings the leather down onto Loki’s ass. The god doesn’t react. He brings it down again.

“Why are you hitting me, Captain?”

“Because you want me to,” he answers honestly.

“You are hitting me, because you are punishing me. Why am I being punished?”

“Because you’re a bad guy. You tried to take over the Earth. You brought the Chitari. You hurt people.”

“And how does that make you feel, knowing that I did those things?”

“Upset. Angry, I guess.”

“Don’t you want me to pay for that?”

“Yes.”

“Then please make me pay.”

Steve looks at the pale back and buttocks on the bed in front of him. This man, this alien is responsible for so much destruction. So many lives were lost because of him. He brings the whip down again, harder this time.

“Better,” Loki admits. “But I need more. Please, Captain. Make it hurt more.”

Steve sets the whip down on the nightstand then removes his dress shirt. Loki can't help but notice how the white cotton undershirt accentuates the super soldier's physique. The god licks his lips in anticipation as the weapon is taken up once again.

The whip leaves red marks this time, and the god grunts a little when he’s hit. Steve uses even more force with the next lash. The red marks look like a blush against the pale skin. The Captain finds it oddly beautiful. The whip comes down again and again. His heart rate is increasing. His breaths are as deep and quick as Loki’s. He runs the strands of the whip lightly across the god’s back, watching the body’s reaction to the soft leather.

“Again. Please.” There is a hint of desperation in his voice.

“No,” Steve says quietly as he uses the whip to trace each limb of the body below him. “Not yet.” He watches the strands of leather as they glide over Loki’s arms and back and ass and legs. The Captain lifts the whip then brings it sharply down over the god’s left thigh. Loki yelps as red marks blossom over his skin.

“I’ve been so bad, Captain. I’ve been so very bad.”

“I know.” He brings the whip down over Loki’s right shoulder. “But you’re sorry now, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes?” That earns the god another smack, this time across his ass. “Yes,” he says more emphatically. He wonders if the soldier realizes he’s voicing his pleasure with the sweet sting as much if not more than repenting his prior actions. “More,” he begs. “Give me more.”

“More? You mean like this?” It’s the hardest hit yet, and he can’t tell if the groan emanating from Loki’s mouth is one of pain or pleasure. “Is that what you want? This?” Another strike. Another moan.

“Yes. That’s what I want. Give it to me. Please.”

Steve brings the whip down over the god’s thighs, ass, back, and arms. Each time, the Trickster asks for more. “Quiet,” the Captain finally commands before whipping him again. To his amazement, the god says nothing. “Good boy.”

Loki sees the bulge beginning at the front of the Captain’s trousers. He had a feeling the Avenger would enjoy this. He hopes it’s enough to get one of those condoms used.

The whip comes down again. Loki whimpers quietly. Another lash is given, and the god’s body begins to undulate slightly on the bed as his own erection begs for attention.

“Stop moving,” Steve orders.

The god again complies without a word. He can hear the soldier walk away, stop, then return. There’s a slight pressure on his back that he recognizes as the end of the riding crop. It travels down his spine to the small of his back and does not stop until it brushes against his anus. Then it’s gone. The Trickster wonders if Steve knows what a wonderful tease he’s being.

The Captain brings the riding crop down hard across that beautiful ass, leaving a dark red stripe.

“Thank you,” Loki breathes.

It comes down again, this time across the god’s right calf. There’s another across the right thigh. Steve gazes down at his work. The Trickster looks like a canvass with pink and red watercolors painting an abstract picture. The artist wants to touch the flesh, to feel it against him. He places his left hand on the form’s lower spine, causing the god to flinch slightly. The palm travels slowly up the cool back to the neck. Then the Captain grabs a chunk of the dark hair and pulls the god’s head back. He bends over and whispers in Loki’s ear, “Is this what you wanted? Is this exciting you?”

The Trickster can’t help but note how large the bulge in the soldier’s trousers is now. “Yes. About as much as it’s exciting you.”

“Are you saying I like this?”

“No, your body is.” Steve lets Loki go then brings the riding crop down on the god’s back. “That’s right! Make me pay for that remark.” It comes down again on his ass, causing the god to choke out a grunt.

That sound, that one little sound brings the walls of propriety crashing down around the soldier. He finds himself biting into Loki’s ass, relishing the taste of the firm flesh. That produces another primal sound from the god. Steve rushes away, his erection tight against his pants. He rips off his shirt, his shoes, his socks, and every other piece of clothing covering his body.

The sound of the condom wrapper fills Loki with anticipation. He licks his lips, hoping the soldier shows no mercy. The squishy sound of the jelly makes him want it more. Finally, he feels the Captain’s weight on the bed, the contact of a chest against his back.

“This is what you wanted the whole time, isn’t it?” Steve’s voice is gruff with desire, and his breath tickles the god’s ear.

“Yes.”

He begins to finger Loki’s anus. “How much do you want it?”

“More than you can imagine.” The god lifts his ass, trying to get the contact he desperately desires. “Please. Please, Captain. I want you. I need you. Fuck me. Fuck my sins away.”

The finger leaves as the soldier’s hands spread the god wider. A single, forceful thrust and Steve is buried within Loki, producing another one of those cries that could be either pleasure or pain or both. The soldier pulls almost completely out and thrusts in again. He does that once more before leaving the god completely.

Loki whimpers at the loss. He feels hands on the rope restraining one of his ankles. It loosens and is gone. Then the rope around his other ankle is also removed. Steve pushes the god’s legs in, raising the pale ass higher, allowing him to kneel on the bed as he grabs the Trickster’s hips and enters him again. He can get more momentum this way, and he begins to pound into Loki. The bed beats against the wall with every forward movement of Steve’s hips. The Trickster’s moans and the Captain’s grunts mingle with the rhythm.

It’s unlike anything either of them have experienced. Steve’s previous encounters were full of timidity. The first was due to inexperience. The second was to ensure he didn’t hurt the woman beneath him. But this..To be able to let his body go, to use his full force, to drive himself into another being and not worry about their feelings, it’s intoxicating.

And Loki wants it, wants more. No one has ever taken him to such heights, hitting his prostrate so hard he’s seeing stars. He comes loudly, straining against the ropes around his wrists, drenching the sheet below him with semen. And the Captain is right there with him, jerking against him, crying out in pleasure.

They stay connected, waiting for their heart rates to slow down, taking deep breaths. Steve’s hands are still on the god’s hips, but now they are holding on to keep himself steady.

It takes a few moments for his brain to begin working again. But when it does, a wave of guilt fills the Captain. He backs away slowly then gently removes the restraints from the god’s hands. “Loki. I’m so sorry.”

Loki sits up and rubs his newly freed wrists. “Why? That was perfect,” he tells the soldier before kissing him on the cheek. “It’s exactly what I wanted, what I needed. And I thank you for it.” He removes the used condom from his lover’s penis and throws it away, then he begins to remove the semen-soaked sheet from the bed. “Clean sheets?” he asks conversationally.

“Those are the only ones I have.”

“Ah, well, we’ll have to use magic then.” He returns the bottom sheet to its original placement. “Could you hand me a napkin or a towel you won’t be using till laundry day?” Steve retrieves an old dishtowel and takes it to the god. Loki places the towel on top of the bed and places his hand above it. It dampens. When the towel is removed, the bottom sheet is completely clean. The Trickster then uses the towel to clean himself up a bit. “Where should I put this?”

“Bathroom.”

“Excellent.”

Loki walks unsteadily to the tiny room. Steve follows to the door. There is no way both of them can be in there at the same time. The soldier watches as the Trickster puts the rag in the hamper, pisses into the toilet, and uses water to clean himself up a bit more. The soldier can’t believe everything that’s just happened, everything that is happening. Then Loki is standing right in front of him waiting to leave the bathroom. Steve steps aside suddenly realizing they are still both naked.

“Would you mind terribly if I stayed here for a few hours? I’m a bit knackered.”

“Um, no. I guess that’s fine.”

Loki lies down on the small bed. He’s lying on his side and waiting for the soldier to join him, which he eventually does.

“We can’t do this again,” Steve decides as he lies down on his back.

“Do you want to do this again?” Loki asks, running his fingers over the soldier’s broad chest. After a moment of looking into those green eyes, the soldier admits that he does. “Then we shall. You’re in charge, Captain. We only do what you want to do. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

“But it’s wrong.”

“Is it? You pour your sins into me and then beat them away, cleansing us both, redeeming me. It’s like…Confession, only more fun. And no one ever has to know. It’ll be our little secret.”

Steve cups the Trickster’s face with his hand. “Kiss me.” Loki gives him a forceful but chaste kiss. The Captain is unsatisfied, can taste the deception. “Now kiss me the way you’re wanting to.”

The God of Mischief smiles widely. This kiss is full of tongues and teeth, an untamed exploration of each other’s mouths, a physical manifestation of desire. This kiss holds the truth. Loki pulls away slowly. “Anything else, Captain?”

He swallows, struggles between asking for what he should versus what he desires. Head, heart, and body fight for control as he looks into accepting green eyes. When Steve finally speaks, it is with a strong, clear voice. “I’ll want oral sex later.”

“Do you wish to give or receive?”

“Receive.”

“And should I swallow or spit afterwards?”

Steve considers the two options then chooses the one that gives him the more visceral reaction. “Swallow.” He likes the thought of having a piece of himself within the god. It’s what he wants.

“You’ve only to let me know when,” the God of Mischief replies before draping half of his body around Steve and nestling his head in the crook of the soldier’s neck. He can’t help but wonder what the Captain will taste like, how forceful his seed will be. By the time he falls asleep, Loki is practically salivating.