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Loki was sprawled on Hugo’s couch, a kebab sandwich from his favorite spot held in his hand, the glow of some french trashy reality TV washing over the room. For the first time in weeks he felt no urge to be anywhere else.
He took the last bite of his sandwich and leaned his head back against the cushions. “Remind me,” he said, voice too tired to be anything but sincere, “to never leave Paris for more than a week ever again.”
“Are you not going to give me my gift?” Hugo replied through a mouthful of food, completely ignoring Loki’s dramatic statement.
Loki rolled his eyes. “Finish your food first.” Ever since Loki had so much as hinted at bringing something back from Japan, Hugo had been relentless about it. He had pestered him daily, speculating wildly, and had made no attempt to hide his disappointment when Loki confirmed it wasn’t a katana.
Well, not in the literal sense.
Loki wasn't entirely sure why he had been dragging it out. Maybe he just enjoyed the anticipation, maybe it was control. Or maybe he just enjoyed knowing that he had something Hugo wanted.
Hugo glanced down at what remained of his sandwich, weighing his options for all of half a second before shoving the rest of it into his mouth at once.
“You’re going to choke.” Loki’s eyes darted instinctively around the room, already taking a mental note of the nearest trash can in case this ended with Hugo gagging all over the couch.
Hugo ignored him, chewing with determination bordering on stubbornness. He swallowed hard, pounded his chest a couple of times for good measure, and finally breathed out of his nose.
“Was it worth it?”
“Yes.” Hugo said immediately. He wiped his hands, then held one out expectantly. “Now show me my gift.”
Loki sighed, accepting defeat, the corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.
There was only so long he could drag this out before Hugo’s impatience became unbearable. He reached for the coat tossed carelessly over the couch and dug into the inner pocket, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped box before holding it just out of reach.
Hugo squinted at it immediately. “That’s too small for a katana.”
Loki huffed. “We’ll see about that.”
The box barely made it into Hugo’s hands before he opened it, fingers quick and impatient. He froze for a moment, staring down at its contents, he looked up at Loki, then back at the box, and finally reached in.
He lifted the necklace from the box. A silver chain caught the light, and dangling from it was a large, detailed katana charm. It was weighty enough to feel symbolic rather than merely decorative.
“Turn it around.” Loki said quietly.
Hugo did, angling it so the back faced the light. Etched into the metal, filled with red, were characters he didn’t recognize. His breath hitched just slightly. “What does it say?” he asked, eyes wide in a way Loki didn't see often.
"Your name," Loki replied simply. "In Japanese."
Hugo nodded thoughtfully, clearly more affected than he was willing to show. He examined the necklace again, thumb brushing over the engraving with surprising care. Without another word, he slipped the chain over his head and settled the pendant against his chest, where it rested easily like it belonged there.
Hugo moved suddenly, as if the thought had struck him all at once. He reached for Loki’s hand and lifted it to his lips, the kiss he pressed there was almost too soft to be true, Loki even wondered if he had just imagined it. “Thank you,” he whispered against Loki’s fingers.
His heart fluttered in a way that startled him, a sensation so rare it left him momentarily unsteady. He was too much of a coward to name the feeling. It wasn’t pride or satisfaction, or even desire in its usual form.
“That’s an unusual way to accept gifts,” Loki said lightly, trying to reclaim his balance.
“It shouldn’t be,” Hugo replied. His eyes lifted and locked onto Loki’s, unreadable and open all at once. Loki drowned in that gaze for a second, the emptiness in it pulling him in, before Hugo’s voice anchored him back to the room. “At least not for you.”
Hugo gave another kiss to Loki’s hand, lingering just long enough to make the absence noticeable when he finally let go. He turned back toward the TV as if nothing had just happened.
Loki felt the loss of contact immediately, he reached out and hooked a finger beneath Hugo’s chin, guiding his face back toward him. A silent request for attention. He met Hugo’s eyes again, closer now, his thumb resting lightly against the line of his jaw. “You can’t just do something like that,” Loki said, voice steady despite the way his pulse had started to race, “unless you want me to expect it from you.”
For a moment, neither of them moved. The room felt smaller somehow, as if the entire world had narrowed down to the space between their bodies and the air they shared.
“Then I will keep doing it.” Hugo replied. He leaned into Loki’s touch until their faces were only inches apart. Loki barely had time to register it before the warmth of Hugo’s breath brushed against his lips.
“What if I want more?” Loki asked, the words slipping out on instinct alone. If he was less certain of himself, he might have faltered under the weight of his own honesty, but he held Hugo’s gaze instead, daring him to answer.
“I will give it to you.”
They were so close now that their lips brushed as the words left Hugo’s mouth, the fleeting contact sending a shiver straight through Loki’s spine.
That was all it took for Loki to close the distance and kiss him properly. Hugo responded without a second of hesitation, meeting him with the same urgency, mouths moving together like it mattered who could draw the sharper breath, who could make the other feel it deeper.
Loki’s hand slid into Hugo’s hair, fingers threading through the soft curls he knew Hugo guarded so carefully. He half expected resistance, a sharp comment about messing it up that he gave everyone else. Instead, Hugo melted into the touch, tilting his head to give Loki better access.
Many boundaries seemed to bend for Loki alone, the realization was dizzying.
Hugo eventually pulled back just far enough to breathe, forehead resting against Loki’s. “I missed you so much,” his lips were flushed, and his eyes softer than Loki had ever seen them. “I watched every single episode of that stupid Blue Lock show hoping you would show up”
Loki smiled, of course he had.
Hugo didn’t wait for a response, he leaned down, lips brushing hot against Loki's neck, planting open-mouthed kisses that trailed fire down the sensitive skin. Each press of his mouth nudged Loki backward, easing him down until his back sank into the plush cushions
“I knew you would.” Loki breathed, his fingers still knotted in Hugo's thick hair. Hugo lifted his head, hovering inches away, eyes locked with predatory intensity.
“Loki,” Hugo murmured, the name rumbling from his chest, “I want to give you more.” His gaze burned, raw hunger stripping away any pretense, it thrilled Loki like nothing else could.
Loki met that stare, chin lifting defiantly. “You already know my limit is the sky.”
A satisfied smile curved Hugo’s lips, approval flickering unmistakably in his eyes. He dipped down and captured Loki’s mouth, tongue sweeping in as if to steal one last taste before pulling away. Then he stood up and held out a hand.
“Then let's take this to the bed.”
He grabbed Hugo's hand, letting himself be pulled up, legs shaky as they headed to the bedroom, every step fueling the ache in his pants.
They reached the bedroom from that video call, the space suddenly real instead of distant and framed by a screen. Loki stopped just by the bed, his gaze drawn to the soft white sheets smoothed tight like they were waiting for him. His breath caught despite himself, chest rising sharply as the weight of what was about to happen settled in.
This wasn’t some fleeting indulgence, not a careless night he could shrug off later. This was Hugo. The man he would be training beside in a matter of weeks, the one meant to stand with him on the world’s biggest stage.
If this fractured into something ugly, there would be no avoiding it. He would have to bury it, even if it meant burying Hugo, and keep moving.
He barely had time to follow that thought before warmth brushed his neck. Hugo stood behind him, close enough that Loki could feel his presence without seeing it.
A gentle kiss brushed the side of his neck, disarming in its simplicity. Then Hugo pulled his own shirt over his head, letting it fall away before reaching for Loki’s. Fabric slid up and over his shoulders, fingers lingering just long enough to make his skin prickle.
Before Loki could turn on his own, Hugo did it for him, firm hands on his sides, guiding him around as if he already knew exactly where Loki belonged. The strength in the movement stole the breath from his lungs.
Hugo looked at him just once, and then pushed him onto the bed. The mattress dipped beneath his weight, sheets creasing under his palms as he caught himself. Loki stared up at him, heart pounding, whatever doubts he had carried in with him scattered under the weight of that look.
Hugo climbed onto the bed with him, hands immediately moving to Loki’s waist, thumbs hooking into the fabric and tugging his pants down in one motion. Loki’s cock sprang free, already half-hard from the anticipation.
Loki’s muscles tightened as Hugo lifted one of his legs effortlessly, settling it over his broad shoulder. His fingers trailed lightly along the inner thigh, tracing lazy circles that sent shivers up his spine, inching closer to his groin but never quite reaching his exposed cock.
Leaning in, Hugo pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the arch of Loki's foot, his lips hot and wet against the slightly callused sole. Loki's whole body jerked involuntarily, a sharp gasp escaping his lips as the sensation hit. A mix of ticklish sparks and deep, throbbing arousal made his toes curl instinctively, brushing against Hugo's cheek.
“What are you—” Loki got immediately interrupted as Hugo's tongue flicked out, dragging a slow lick along the curve of his instep.
“They ran so many miles,” he said fondly, voice warm with admiration. “And scored so many incredible goals.” As if to emphasize the praise, he grabbed Loki's other leg, hoisting it over his opposite shoulder and mirroring the position so both feet were now cradled close to his face. Loki was splayed open, his cock twitching visibly as it hardened further under the intensity of Hugo's attention.
He repeated the ritual on the other foot, starting with a series of soft, sucking kisses along the heel, then running his tongue broadly over the ball of the foot.
Loki bit his lip, trying to stifle the tremors that shook his limbs, but it was useless. The sensitivity was overwhelming, like electric currents firing straight to his core. His head fell back against the pillows, eyes squeezing shut as heat flooded his face, his mind reeling from the intimate worship.
“Fuck, Hugo,” Loki whispered, his voice cracking as Hugo's teeth grazed the sensitive skin near his toes, nipping lightly before soothing it with a swirl of his tongue.
“Don't they deserve some love too?” he continued, his words muffled as he sucked Loki's big toe into his mouth, tongue swirling around it like he was savoring a treat, the wet suction pulled a moan deep from Loki's throat.
Hugo must have noticed how close Loki was to unraveling, the desperate tension in his thighs, the way his cock wept a steady, clear bead of pre-cum onto his stomach. Without a word, he eased back from the intense focus on Loki’s feet. He shifted his position, sliding down the bed as he began to trail a series of deep, worshipful kisses along Loki’s leg.
Starting from the curve of his calf, each kiss was firm as if Hugo was imprinting his admiration into the very skin and muscle. The warmth of his breath ghosted over the flesh, raising faint goosebumps as he moved up.
When he reached the soft skin of Loki’s inner thigh, Hugo parted his lips wider. His teeth grazed the tender flesh, before he sank in with a bite, the sharp sting made Loki cry out. Hugo soothed the mark immediately with the strokes of his tongue, lapping at the imprint of his teeth and leaving a darkening bruise.
Loki gave up on stifling his moans; the pleasure controlled him completely. His hand fisted in Hugo’s hair again, pulling so hard the roots must have screamed, but Hugo only groaned against his thigh.
Hugo moved upwards with agonizing slowness, his hot mouth a breath away from Loki’s aching cock, but he completely ignored it. Instead, he dragged the flat of his tongue slowly across the defined ridges of Loki’s abs, making the muscles flex and jump involuntarily beneath the attention. “Show off.” Hugo commented, his voice rough but affectionate.
He reached Loki’s chest, then his mouth found Loki’s nipple. Hugo’s tongue circled the tight bud once, then twice, before he closed his lips over it and sucked hard.
“Fuck!” Loki shouted, the curse ripped from him. Hugo’s free hand reached for his other pec, kneading the firm muscle before pinching the nipple between thumb and forefinger, twisting it roughly. The dual sensation made Loki see stars, his back arching off the mattress.
“This is my favorite part of you, you know?”
As a football player whose primary skill was speed, most of his training focused on his legs. But he spent almost as much time on his chest, purely for aesthetic reasons and the satisfying burn of the bench press. He never expected it to take Hugo’s attention, to become the focal point of such intense pleasure.
Hugo alternated between each pec with devoted attention. He licked one with his tongue, a slow stripe from the swell of muscle up to the peak, before sucking the other deep into the scorching heat of his mouth. His teeth scraped lightly, then not so lightly, biting down just enough to make Loki gasp and his cock jump violently against his stomach.
He was reduced to a writhing mess beneath him, his mouth hanging open, drool running in a slick trail down his cheek and onto the pillow. His moans devolved into a continuous, mindless stream of Hugo’s name. His hips bucked upward in a frantic, jerky rhythm, his cock seeking any friction, but Hugo held him down with the solid weight of his own body, denying him any kind of release.
Hugo’s mouth moved from Loki’s heaving chest, his lips trailing a wet path across the smooth skin to the hard ridge of his collarbone. His hand reached for Loki’s arm, his fingers wrapping firmly around his bicep, and guided it up and back, pinning it to the pillow above his head, revealing the hollow of his armpit.
Loki looked down at him, confusion knitting his brows together. The sensation was strange, it was a place touched only by soap and water, never by a lover. Before he could process it, his head jerked back as Hugo’s tongue lashed out, a slow lick all the way down to the tender skin where arm met torso.
A shocked gasp tore from Loki’s throat. He tried to resist, a feeble attempt to lower his arm, but Hugo’s mouth wouldn’t leave his skin. He nuzzled into the space, inhaling deeply, before his lips closed over a patch of skin and suckled hard.
“What are you doing?” Loki stuttered, his voice tight with a mixture of arousal and bewildered vulnerability.
Hugo pulled back just enough to speak, his breath hot against the wet, sensitized skin. “I want to know you.”
“I want to taste your spit, your cum, your sweat.” He looked up, his eyes locking with Loki’s, the intensity in them stealing the air from his lungs. “Every sacred drop of you.” He held that gaze, letting the weight of his words hang in the air between them. “And even your blood, if you’re willing.”
Loki’s caught in his throat. Such absolute, consuming devotion. It was a level of desire that bordered on madness, and it didn’t just appeal to his body—it played directly into the deepest chambers of his ego. To be wanted not just for his skill, his speed, his form, but for his very essence… it was the most full he had ever felt. Not only did he not have it in him to turn him down, he also had to reward such terrifying honesty.
Mustering what little strength he had left, he lifted his free hand and cupped Hugo’s jaw, lifting his head from its devoted work. He brought their faces together until their noses brushed, their breath mingling.
“I am willing.” Loki said, the words a solemn vow, a granting of total access.
Hugo looked at him for a second, his eyes swimming with so much raw adoration that Loki’s heart fluttered painfully against his ribs. It was the look of a man who had found his religion, and Loki was the altar.
He leaned in and took Loki’s lips, it was soft and sweet at first, a tender contrast to the intensity of the moment. Then Hugo’s mouth grew demanding, his tongue plunging deep, and he bit down on Loki’s bottom lip. Not a playful nip, but an intentional clamp of his teeth, hard enough to pierce the soft flesh.
The sharp pain made Loki groan into the kiss. The coppery, metallic tang of his own blood flooded his mouth. Hugo sucked, drawing the blood into his own mouth, swallowing it with a satisfied hum that vibrated through both of them. The kiss became a dark communion, flavored with salt, sweat, and iron.
Loki panted when Hugo finally pulled away, his own lip throbbing, already swelling. “Satisfied?”
Hugo only nodded, his lips stained a faint, rosy pink. He didn’t speak. The time for words was over. He moved away for a moment, reaching over to the bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle of lube.
The silence was thick, broken only by their ragged breathing. Hugo popped the cap, and the sound was obscenely loud. He poured a generous amount onto his fingers, the fluid coating his digits.
With his clean hand, he hooked his fingers under Loki’s knees, spreading his thighs wide, exposing him completely. The cool air of the room kissed Loki’s heated skin, making him shiver. Hugo settled between his legs, his gaze dropping to where Loki was most vulnerable, most eager.
Hugo’s lubed fingers didn’t go to his cock. Instead, they trailed lower and pressed firmly against his tight hole.
He leaned forward, kissing Loki’s swollen lip again, tasting the blood once more. “I told you,” he whispered against his mouth, his finger applying insistent pressure. “I want to know all of you.”
And with that, as he kissed him deeply, his slick finger began to press inward, breaching that final, intimate barrier, claiming him inside and out.
A soft gasp escaped Loki as Hugo’s slick fingers began working through him. He arched his back, a raw, guttural moan tearing from his throat. The stretch felt searingly good, a burning sensation that bordered on unbearable, yet his muscles instinctively tightened around Hugo’s knuckles, feeling the distinct ridges of bone inside him.
Hugo’s fingers moved with a precise, almost clinical purpose, ruthlessly widening him. They pushed and rotated, testing the limits of his tightness, never getting too deep, never fully satisfying the aching void they created.
Each rotation, each slow, insistent push, was a calculated torture, designed to make him yearn for more, for the fullness he was being denied. Just as his muscles began to adjust to the rhythmic movement, Hugo pulled out. Loki’s ass ached, a throbbing emptiness that cried out for the return of pressure.
Hugo didn’t waste a second, he wiped his fingers on the sheets before grabbing both of Loki’s thighs. His grip was bruising as he pulled Loki’s legs up, positioning him on his crotch. Hugo was looking at him with an intense, almost feral focus. His gaze was locked on his ass, his brows furrowed in concentration as he aligned the head of his cock with Loki’s hole. The first contact, the brush of hard flesh against tender skin, sent a jolt through Loki, his hips jerking involuntarily against the mattress.
Loki wasn't ready to surrender completely to the sensation. He reached down, his hand covering Hugo’s on his thigh, a silent demand. He squeezed, urging Hugo to look him in the eyes. He wanted to look into those dark, hungry eyes, to see the adoration, the raw, possessive hunger twist into something primal and consuming as Hugo finally claimed him.
Just as Loki anticipated, Hugo’s grip on his thigh tightened further, his knuckles stark white. Their eyes locked, a profound, wordless exchange of yearning and power. Then, Hugo slammed forward. His fingers had been nothing—barely preparation for how his cock felt.
Loki’s breath hitched, a sharp, broken sound that was swallowed by the relentless rhythm of Hugo’s hips. The initial stretch had melted into deep fullness, every brutal thrust sent a corresponding jolt of electric pleasure straight to his untouched, weeping cock. The pleasure was a clarifying fire, and the pain was the oil that fed it, making it burn hotter.
Hugo’s body caged him as he leaned down and caught the tear on Loki’s cheekbone with his tongue, the act was so intimate it felt more invasive than the cock spearing him open.
Pinned between Hugo’s arms, surrounded by the heat and scent of him, Loki wrapped his legs tightly around his waist, pulling him closer. The new angle made Hugo groan low in his throat, hips rolling instead of snapping.
“I know what you were doing when you called.” The words cut through the symphony of skin slapping skin and Loki’s ragged moans.
His mind, fogged with lust and pain, scrambled. The pretense, the careful facade of casual need, was shattered. Hugo had seen right through him. He had known Loki was sprawled in his own bed, hand working frantically over his cock, imagining it was Hugo’s.
He tried to speak, tried to form an explanation, but all that came out were broken moans and half-swallowed breaths as Hugo thrust again, grinding against that spot inside him with pinpoint accuracy.
Hugo’s mouth brushed along Loki’s throat, teeth grazing sensitive skin before he pressed a kiss just below his ear. “I didn’t care,” he continued, voice terrifyingly sincere. “I just wished I could be there with you.”
“I think I’m in love with you.”
The pronouncement was so quiet, a breath against his skin, yet it struck Loki like a physical blow. It vibrated on his neck, a deep, unsettling hum that seemed to echo through every bone in his body. Loki couldn't think, his mind a haze of pleasure and an unfamiliar fear.
He didn't know how he felt about it, not exactly. The only thing he did know, the only thing he wanted as Hugo continued to fuck him raw, deep and relentless, was to hear it again.
He moved with what little strength remained, his hips bucking weakly into Hugo's powerful thrusts, his hand tangling in the damp strands of Hugo's hair. His fingers tightened, urging Hugo to lift his head, to face him.
"Look at me," he practically moaned every word, the sounds dragging out of his throat, hoarse and desperate. "When you say it."
Hugo paused, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded, meeting Loki's. “I love you." It was like music, a dark, dangerous melody that wrapped around Loki's heart and squeezed.
The ache from being left untouched for so long had become maddening. It pulsed through him in sharp, insistent waves, each movement of Hugo’s body intensifying it. The contrast was cruel, Hugo showered him with overwhelming sensations on every inch of his body, while his erection was ignored, the swollen head hypersensitive and aching for the simplest graze.
“Touch me.” he managed, the words barely more than a strained whisper. It wasn’t commanding the way he intended.
Hugo obliged immediately, his hand closing around the straining length of his cock. His thumb stroked the sensitive head with the same primal rhythm as his thrusts deep inside. Loki arched into the sensation, a gasping moan tearing from his lips.
But then Hugo's rhythm suddenly faltered, his brows knitting tight, a guttural groan ripping from his throat as his hips jerked erratically. Loki felt the hot rush of Hugo's release flooding him, the warmth spreading deep as Hugo's cock twitched and emptied inside him.
Loki's own orgasm crashed over him moments later, his body seizing as cum erupted from his tip, splattering across Hugo's knuckles and dripping down his hand. Waves of pleasure ripped through him, his ass tightening around Hugo’s softening cock, milking every last drop from him while his vision blurred with the intensity.
If he wasn’t so utterly fucked out, so completely boneless and spent, he would’ve laughed. Laughed at the sheer absurdity of Hugo coming before him, even when Loki had been denied touch for far, far longer. Loki found himself strangely amused by it.
They panted in unison, their breaths ragged and heavy in the humid air. Hugo stayed there for a long moment, his weight a comforting pressure, staring down at their joint bodies before he pulled out. Hugo’s cum was warm as it dripped down Loki’s inner thighs, a trail that he certainly knew he would never forget.
Hugo collapsed next to him, his strong body heavy and spent, hair messed up and plastered to his forehead, every inch of his skin gleaming with sweat. The man was beautiful. Loki couldn’t look away, his gaze tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the pulse beating frantically at his throat.
“I love you too,” he whispered, the words barely audible, it was a response he didn’t know he was capable of giving.
Hugo shifted, turning his head to look at Loki, his dark eyes still hazy with lingering pleasure. “I know.” Hugo murmured back, a faint smile curving his lips as he reached out, fingers tracing lazy patterns on Loki's hip, pulling him closer into the tangle of limbs and shared warmth.