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Loki likes how Thor smells after he’s been fucked during his heat – debauched, pheromones leaking out of him just like the semen slick down the inside of his thigh as he breathes, sweat cooling in the curve of his elbow and the dip of his clavicle, the musk of satisfaction as the negative feedback loop of hormones in Thor’s body begins and cuts off the leaking and ever-present blood flow to the crotch.

He drinks it in as he pulls his softened cock out and runs a hand down Thor’s spine just to make the man curl and shiver from overstimulation on every part of his body. It’s dark in the room and they both need to shower, but Loki can’t help but bury his nose into the crook of Thor’s shoulder and inhale the sex-good smell of a sated omega. He pauses, considers – his sated omega.

It’s an idea – one that Loki has no qualms answering favourably towards, but maybe that’s the three days of sex that’s talking. Sex of Thor knotted up in his lap, flushed, bright-eyed, babbling on about the difficulty of getting a fucking phone call from – oh shit – t-the mayor’s office when in the middle of an investigation because – ah ah ah – the campaign trail is starting and oh fuck I’m so full of fucking come right now Loki Loki Loki

Loki licks his lips and pulls away, ignoring the twitch of his cock. Talk of work when in constant presence with someone for three days is inevitable, and Thor probably knows more about his personal and professional life than most of his coworkers by now, though whether he remembers it in the delirious sex haze is another question. Still, Loki is warm around the edges where Thor brushes up against him – whether it’s post-sex haze or not.

-

The morning after has all the windows of the apartment open, airing out the cramped up pheromones and multiple showers. Once Thor is clean and ready to make an appearance at his workplace, Loki takes one whiff of omega scent and frowns.

‘You smell different,’ he remarks.

‘Suppressants – gets rid of all my pheromones,’ explains Thor with an offhand grin, ‘so I don’t reek up the workplace and stuff, y’know?’

Loki frowns. ‘I liked you better before.’ It comes off sulky and a little bit petty, but if Thor catches it, he only shrugs.

‘They’re supposed to suppress my heat as well – you just caught me during the streak where I’d forgotten to go home and take them.’

Thor in heat – Thor sweat slick, mouth open, saliva streaked over his pink, swollen mouth, just as wet as his hole fluttering around Loki’s cock. ‘You should stop taking them,’ says Loki without thinking and stops himself there, waiting with tense shoulders at how Thor will react. They’ve only known each other for four days and Loki has been more forward with Thor than anyone else in years.

‘Why? So you can knot me up next month too?’ Thor is watching him, grinning, a flush to his cheeks, blonde hair pulled from his face so Loki can see every delighted part of it. ‘That a promise?’

Lazily, Loki shrugs. ‘If the drugs stay out of it.’

‘Gonna be a bit awkward to explain to my friends why I’m suddenly smelling sweet, but alright, you have a deal.’ He tilts his head. ‘And dinner tonight.’

Loki blinks. ‘Dinner?’

‘Yeah, shit, I’ve been asking you since the first day, thought you were smart.’ He’s teasing – laughter caught in the lilt of his voice and the glint in the blue of his eyes – and Loki is torn between flushing horribly and smiling back in turn.

He picks apathy and slides on his customary mask of appeased coolness. ‘Tonight. I’ll call and reserve.’ They part ways soon after.

-

Much to Loki’s disappointment, they don’t fuck after the first date.

-

They do after the fourth. It’s hot – everything with Thor is hot, really, with that body arched off the bed, his fingers tangled in the sheets, his ass on display, wanting to be filled with hot, thick cock and the dazed look of post-orgasm, the loose lines of muscle of his shoulders that heave as he tries to catch his breath once Loki fucks him through one orgasm then another.

This time, there’s no heat pheromones to arouse Loki’s knot and they have the equivalent of beta sex, which is so vastly different than the pinned, writhing, come-filled occurrence of a heat that it takes a moment for Loki to realize he can withdraw his cock after the initial minute of post-orgasm in his veins.

Still, the suppressants are left out and Thor smells so damn good without them – the sex bringing out that omega sweet scent that is present in his kind. Loki takes to tucking his face in the crook of Thor’s neck, licking the sweat from the man’s collarbone and pressing his fingers into Thor’s hole, curling them, making Thor shiver and pant – fuck, you can’t I can’t, I-I’m not this isn’t oh god oh god I can’t I can’t I – I – I –

You can, coos Loki, and you will.

Thor does.

-

One week before Thor’s heat, his pheromones spike and the alphas in the vicinity notice.

It happens in a piece of shit diner at one in the morning – Loki is finally done doing the paperwork of the client who had a drunken hit-and-run encounter with his neighbor and Thor is nursing his eighth coffee of the last two days because some kid is running around the neighborhood with a gun and a grudge. They’re talking about nothing in particular – a welcome distraction from the hectic events of reality – when Loki spots him.

The alpha is tall man with pale hair and paler skin and when he passes Thor’s seat to get to the rest room, Loki sees his nose flare to drink in Thor’s sweet, sweet omega pheromones that are a permanent part of him now.

Thor, oblivious except to dumping more sugar into his mug, jerks when Loki reaches forward and curls his hand around the man’s throat, pressing the sweat-slick alpha palm against Thor’s pulse point.

‘Yeah?’ says Thor, and Loki retreats his grip.

‘Your face was going to fall into your coffee,’ says Loki offhandedly, his voice crisp and cool, revealing nothing – not the roiling possessiveness that slinks into his stomach when the alpha reappears behind Thor, wiping his hands on his jacket sleeve before walking forward.

Pale eyes on Loki, the man grins and presses his hand against the back of Thor’s seat before he keeps moving forward.

‘You know him?’ asks Thor.

Loki jerks his head, brain catching up despite the red, seeping rage that pinpricks its way up his bloodstream. ‘What – no. I don’t.’

‘You look like you’re going to behead him, y’know,’ snorts Thor, propping his chin on the rim of his mug. ‘You’re already a lawyer. Don’t give me an actual excuse to lock you up.’

Loki takes a breath to cool his irritability and instead smells the alpha pheromones pressed on the back of the cheap plastic of Thor’s chair. ‘I’m going to kill him,’ he mutters.

‘What?’ Thor’s surprise as his head tilts has his cup tipping and the coffee spills over the table, dripping onto his lap and the ensuing cleaning up distracts Loki long enough for the alpha to slip out, much to Loki’s anger when he realizes it.

-

The second time it happens is three days before Thor’s heat. The omega in him rears up in preparation – the cycle of hormones beginning – no negative feedback loop to block off the glands and organs that make Thor the melting, slick bitch that he is and that Loki wants.

Perhaps Loki should’ve seen this one coming – bringing Thor out to lunch at the park behind Loki’s office on a weekday where the milling betas and alphas of downtown corporate take a breather and eat their meals as their noses flare when the breeze brings over Thor’s smell subtly, mingling with the flora and fauna of the park.

They split a sandwich because Loki has to go into court this afternoon and he likes being sharp and hungry rather than lazy and sated. Thor takes his half with a brilliant smile, causing that same warmth curl up in Loki’s stomach that he’s been intent on ignoring this past month.

‘Oh,’ says Thor as they take a stroll on one of the paths, passing benches with various people eating and chatting, a phone tucked against their ear, a spoonful of soup hung precariously between mouth and thermos, the hip tilt of the companion as they wait for their friends to finish – all of it is so usual and commonplace that Loki can’t help but be impressed when Thor notices it.

‘Yes, Thor?’

‘This has been happening all week hasn’t it?’ Thor rubs the back of his neck, eyebrows raised in silent laughter. ‘The three days, I was only with Hogun, and Hogun wouldn’t mention a word even if I was totally reeking up the car with… this.’ He gestures towards himself.

‘It’s noticeable cause you’re the only one,’ says Loki quietly. ‘There were omegas in the station and on your floor, on trains and buses and cars. But this park – I haven’t smelt an omega here in ages and you’re – ’ He cuts off, not trusting his voice.

‘I’m?’ Thor is amused, head tilted; trying to pry the compliment he knows is lodged in Loki’s throat.

‘If any of them touch you, I’ll kill them,’ Loki says instead. For good measure, he presses the back of his palm against the small of Thor’s back.

Yet, it doesn’t abate the second glances or the sniffs, the careful looks as they follow Thor’s physique from his legs to his shoulders and everything in between. To the onlookers, all Loki amounts to is Thor’s walking alpha dildo in a tailored suit and it makes the man grit his teeth.

His grip goes tight, nails digging into Thor’s skin underneath the shirt.

‘You’re jealous,’ murmurs Thor, his voice deep and rumbling as he reads Loki’s face, the curve of tension in the shoulders, the vicious twist of the man’s hands. Reads Loki like an open book and finds amusement in it as if Loki is just a passing whim.

‘You’re mine,’ says Loki, vicious and sharp and final, enough to silence Thor for the time being. They continue out of the park in silence, drift out onto the busy downtown sidewalks where Thor’s scent dissipates within the medley of cigarette smoke and cologne and gasoline and sewage of the downtown core.

‘I should go. I’ll see you soon,’ says Thor, his voice oddly quiet and throaty, but he’s moving away before Loki can call him out on it.

It matters not – Loki knows what it is and what he wants.

-

On the eve of Thor’s heat, Loki smells him before he even knocks on the door.

It’s so heavy, good, musky – slinking underneath his door, permeating the air, the anticipation lining Loki’s nerves up until his fingers are twitching and curling, his mouth dry with need, his stomach warming up to match his skin. Everything is suddenly placed into focus – the grain on the hardwood floor, the gleam of metal of the lamp, the curve of the doorknob as Loki reaches out to turn it.

Without preamble, he swings open the door just as Thor is about to raise his hand and grabs the man’s collar before dragging him inside. Thor threatens to overwhelm just by being present, by fucking existing and Loki can’t place this reaction into context – he’s gripping tight onto Thor’s shoulders, his mouth on the man’s skin, lapping at the curve of Thor’s adam’s apple.

‘Waited for this,’ says Loki and Thor fucking whines when he smells the answering alpha pheromones in the air. This is it – he’s going to knot him up good, leave him sobbing for it, again and again. Loki has waited for a month to have Thor spread open and leaking again. If only he could make Thor leak all the time, his body begging to be fucked every week, answering only to Loki, only to him.

Thor kisses him messily – tongue curling around the front ridge of Loki’s teeth and chasing the taste of coffee until Loki’s fingers are fitting over Thor’s shoulders and he’s being manhandled into his living room and onto his couch – white and leather and he can’t wait to make it squeak when Thor rides his cock.

‘Fuck – don’t like beta sex?’ laughs Thor against his neck, fingers working the hem of Loki’s shirt to tug it off over his head and mussing the dark hair. Loki lifts his hips and grinds filthily against the back of Thor’s ass as the man straddles him.

‘Do you want my knot, Thor?’ he leers.

Predictably, Thor looks away and instead focuses on taking off his own shirt. Soon, there are fingers on the button of his jeans and Loki appreciates the view of Thor standing up – all golden skin and broad shoulders as he shimmies out of the denim, leaving him clad in boxer briefs with an obvious tent.

‘You smell,’ drawls Loki, palming his cock under his dress pants. Thor pins him with a stare that’s half omega-clawing-out-for-a-knot and half going-to-make-the-alpha-beg-for-it. Loki grins. He’s always loved a challenge and this one has a worthy prize.

Thor’s kneeling on either side of Loki’s hips, licking a trail up the man’s neck as he bats away Loki’s hands to get his own hands on the curve of cock that juts underneath the smooth material. Soon, the zipper’s being undone and the pants are sliding down the sharp hipbones and long legs. Loki doesn’t bother with underwear and sees Thor’s eyes go wide and his nose flare at the sudden leap of alpha pheromones that dissipate into the musky air. Loki basks in the sweet, sweet leaking omega scent on Thor’s skin, drifting from his pulse points and his ass.

Without even a pause, Thor’s down on Loki’s cock, swallowing it down, getting it messy and sloppy. His saliva trickles out of the corner of his mouth as he licks trails along the veins underside Loki’s cock. It’s so hot, so fucking hot – the perfect goddamn suction, the man’s fingers cupping Loki’s balls to roll them between his palm, the press of the pad of his middle finger against his perineum.

‘Shit,’ says Loki, voice cracked. ‘Shit, gonna fuck your mouth.’ Thor doesn’t seem like he’s going to go anywhere – he hums his acquiesce, backing off the thick piece till he’s lapping at the cockhead and the ridge underneath, drinking in the precome.

Sliding a hand into the long, blonde hair, Loki loses any threadbare control he ever had when Thor walked in here – leaking and wanton. His hips shove forward and Thor is prepared – his mouth loose and hot and inviting, saliva making everything slick, as Loki moves desperate into the heat. The back of his cock hits Thor’s throat, feels it flutter around the head and Loki is keening, wanting it more, again and again. He brings Thor’s hot mouth down again, bringing the delirious heat until the man’s nose is buried in the thatch of dark hair between his thighs and Loki is shivering, grinding, jerking minutely as his cock twitches inside of Thor’s mouth, fitted into his throat – as hot and wet as his ass.

He lets go before he can come – scrabbling backwards and Thor leans up, coughing, his face red, cheeks flushed and mouth swollen and smeared with precome and spit. He’s fucking beautiful. Loki’s mouth is dry.

‘Fuck, I’m wet,’ laughs Thor weakly, his expression just a little pained.

‘You want my knot so fucking bad,’ murmurs Loki, reaching forward, catching Thor’s mouth in a kiss, both of them on their knees, pawing at each other like goddamn teenagers. Eventually, Loki’s fingers are caught in the waistband of the other’s boxer briefs and he’s tugging at them, down down down – fucking get off

‘One sec, shit, just – ’ says Thor in a rush of breath, standing, kicking them off before his mouth is back on Loki’s and he’s arching up into the man as Loki’s fingers skitter over his nipple, down his side and slide down between his ass to press the pad of his index against Thor’s leaking, fluttering hole. ‘Oh god, oh god, yes.’

It’s as close to coherent permission as he’s going get – Thor’s leaking cock nudging at Loki’s hip as he tries to fuck back on the sole finger pressed up against him. Loki places his free hand against Thor’s chest, pushing him back, ‘against the arm of the couch, Thor, do it, gonna make this good for you.’

Thor obeys – needy, sweating, leaking fucking mess that he is, because the alpha fucking tells him so, and he’s up with his spine against the arm of the couch, one leg hanging off the edge and the other propped up against the back of the couch. There’s slick all over the leather. Loki doesn’t fucking care.

‘Want to taste you come,’ smiles Loki, voice pitched low, and Thor makes a strangled noise when his brain catches up with what Loki intends. It’s fast – Loki on his knees before Thor, a hand on the inside of Thor’s thigh to balance himself as he licks the tip of the man’s cock as languidly as one can while his other hand has a finger sliding two knuckles into the slick, wet heat of Thor’s ass.

‘Knew you loved it,’ gasps out Thor, with that good cheer infused in his voice that makes this even hotter, because there’s still something like innocence pressed against Thor’s skin that makes Loki want to bite down and make fucking bleed in order to corrupt. Instead he occupies himself with the queer taste of omega come. Perhaps he has a fascination with it – who gives a shit – as long as he gets to drink deep from the thick, hot piece of cock in his mouth, sucking as he is so it’s as slick and sloppy as Thor’s leaking ass.

It feels bigger in his mouth, makes his jaw ache as he tries to deepthroat Thor, press his nose against the trail of blonde hair at the base of the man’s dick. He pulls off, snapping the trail of saliva between his bottom lip and the cockhead with his tongue and occupies himself by burying his nose into the heat of Thor’s balls, scrape his teeth gently over the skin and fucking feel the flutter of Thor’s hole around his fingers as he slides two of them inside now.

‘You’re so good, so good,’ encourages Loki, the words vibrating up Thor’s skin, and he laves the underside of the omega cock with a hot tongue, letting the dick slide over his cheeks, the side of his nose, leave trails of shining precome over his face. Thor’s whining right about now – ‘suck me, god, Loki, or fuck me, I don’t – fuck fuck fu-uck – ’ as Loki scrapes his teeth over the cock’s leaking slit.

Three fingers, all close to three knuckles deep in Thor means Loki can make the man come now. Without hesitation, he’s sucking the head of Thor’s cock, playing special attention to teasing the slit with the tip of his tongue, and Thor’s thashing – fucking back onto Loki’s fingers and bucking up shallowly into Loki’s mouth.

‘Gonna – shit – just a little bit more, Loki you fucking assho – ’ Loki would grin if there wasn’t thick cock in his mouth and he cuts off Thor’s frustrated rambling by deepthroating him hot and fast, humming low within his sternum until Thor voice is a just a breathless keen and his cock twitches once, twice, and he’s coming hard in Loki’s mouth.

It fills it up, threatens to spill around the corners of Loki’s lip and Loki fucking loves it, drinks it down – this odd, semi-sweet omega come that he’s only ever tasted from Thor. His throat flutters as he tries to take it all in, feeling how Thor flutters and clenches desperately around his fingers that stuffed deep within his ass.

Eventually, Loki pulls off, licking the cock clean, slow and good and careful even when Thor’s oversensitivity has him hissing and fucking back onto the fingers and away from Loki’s questing mouth. ‘How do you want it, Thor?’ asks Loki, his voice hoarse and rough from the blowjob but it doesn’t stop him in the slightest, ‘how do you want my fucking knot, you bitch?’

Thor is too busy attempting to catch his breath to shoot back a snarky response. His heat has the room filled up with just his scent and Loki’s alpha hormones reacting at the leaking, whining alpha on his couch and god, Loki doesn’t want to crack a window open for the next week in order to bask in this. Withdrawing his fingers from the clenched heat of Thor’s ass, he sniffs the slick and then licks – yes, so fucking good.

Belatedly, Thor is flipping himself over the arm of the couch, clutching to the leather in a death grip as he arches his back and exposes his ass in full view in front of Loki’s face. ‘Just fucking do it before one of us dies,’ groans out Thor, and Loki can’t argue with that logic.

Slowly, he feeds the tip of his cock into the relentless wet heat of Thor’s ass – loose post-orgasm but no less good. It’s just as enveloping as the first time – as consuming and breathless even with the cold floor of the interrogation room against his feet and Thor cursing him to kingdom come as he took that cock inside of him, letting himself be stretched full until every stray thought is knocked out of him.

This time, there’s no pause, no careful deliberation over the perfect fucking grip of Thor’s ass around his cock. This time, Loki curves his hands into the arch of Thor’s hipbones, takes a grip, and fucks.

Thor’s breath is punched out of him as his fingers scrabble over the leather when Loki rails into him, over and over again – as brutal and primal as these fucking heat cycles make them. Loki fucks with the determination of the damned – intent on ruining Thor inside out with his cock working him till he’s sobbing for it.

‘So fucking hot for it,’ praises Loki into Thor’s ear as he drapes his front over Thor’s back, hips pulling back and slamming in as Thor chokes on his breath. ‘So fucking good too, Thor.’ And Thor can’t reply because his face is pressed against the arm of the couch, panting as his hips work back on Loki’s cock, fucking himself on it to get it deeper, harder, c’mon c’mon fuck me don’t stop yeah yeah yeah –

‘You reek,’ continues Loki, each pause between words punctuated by a sharp tilt of his hips on the backstroke, sliding filthily along Thor’s rim where each sound of the man’s slick against Loki’s cock is loud. ‘You fucking smell. So so good – fuck, Thor, all those alphas watching you.’ His voice cuts, his hips stutter and he grinds deep – so fucking deep into the pressing heat that Thor’s chest heaves and he presses just as insistently back. ‘And the betas too – you just smell so good.’

‘Loki,’ pants Thor, his face dazed and his body shivering to each brutal slam of hips. Loki loves the clench and flutter of the man’s hole around his cock, loves how tight it gets – so much friction that Loki just wants to fuck Thor every fucking day and never leave. Mark him with Loki’s come, plug it all up with Loki’s knot, cover the man in his fucking alpha scent until Thor can’t leave the house before being tagged a goddamn alpha with how well he’s been fucked.

‘You’re mine,’ says Loki, mouth against the crook of Thor’s shoulder and neck, his fingers leaving ten patterned bruises over Thor’s golden skin, watching Thor clench his teeth, nose flaring. The man’s cock is dripping a puddle of precome over the couch seat underneath him and Loki’s going to make him blow his load one more time – the strained, flushed head coming hard and coating the leather with omega spunk.

‘Loki,’ repeats Thor, his voice strangled and quiet, infused with a low moan, ‘do it.’

‘You’re my bitch,’ says Loki, voice a promise. He fucks into Thor hard, leaves the man’s knees slip-slide in their own sweat by the force, and licks at the skin on Thor’s shoulder as his hips continue the brutal, unrelenting pace. Thor’s hole is clenching, unclenching, sucking Loki’s cock in and giving delicious friction as Loki drags it back out, and Thor himself has the couch arm in a white-knuckled grip, shoulders tense to give Loki the perfect space.

‘Fucking do it.’ It’s an order from an omega, but Loki hasn’t heard sweeter words. He curves his back, lays his lips over Thor’s shoulder and bites. Sinks his teeth right into the skin, blood streaming into his mouth, coating his tongue with copper taste and the tang of omega hormones, and Thor is coming – loud, hoarse, his cock twitching as he blows his load, each strip of come laid out in a haphazard pattern on the leather as his knees buckle.

Loki can barely keep it together from the sinfully good taste of Thor’s blood and the fact that there is a whole slew of hormones that erupt within him – marking rituals grained within his primal psyche that he can’t avoid. Hitching his hips right tight against Thor’s fluttering asshole, Loki only bites harder as Thor rides out his orgasm, voice ruined as he shivers violently against the front of Loki’s chest.

‘Keep fucking me, c’mon, fuck,’ pants out Thor, and Loki, teeth still sunk into the other’s shoulder, obeys without hesitation, resuming the brutality of his fucking as he controls Thor’s hips to make the man work himself over Loki’s thick, hot cock. He pulls forward and back, Thor just a post-orgasmic puppet in his arms as he sinks himself deep, deep, deep into the all-consuming heat again and again.

‘Oh shit, yes, Loki, yeah,’ keens Thor desperately once the beginnings of the knot begin to form inside of him. Loki is gonna flood Thor’s hole with come, gonna have him plugged up with only Loki’s scent, has him marked and writhing for it as he pumps each burst into him. The thought is enough to send him hurtling forward – screwing once, twice, thrice right into Thor, fucking him until the knot is too big to be able to pop in and out past the flushed rim of Thor’s asshole.

Loki can only groan loudly as he grinds his hips against Thor’s ass, his cock finally letting out its load of warm, alpha come, striping Thor’s insides with white as he bucks shallowly against the man’s behind, each post-orgasmic twitch of his hips letting loose another stream of spunk inside of Thor. In turn, Thor has his forehead pressed against the couch arm, taking deep breath as he rocks his hips to take it all in.

Once the initial shivers cease, Loki unhooks his teeth from the other’s shoulder, licking off the blood from his teeth as he tries to catch his breath. The mark is a swollen, red wet wound, bleeding only sluggishly. Loki leans over and licks the rest of the copper off the golden skin, aware of how each press of his tongue has Thor keening.

‘Not gonna h-heal if you keep fuckin’ li-licking it,’ shudders Thor weakly. Loki laughs and draws back, sliding his hands from the man’s hips to his side and pulling him back against Loki so they can sit against the back of the couch. It takes a minimal amount of maneuvering, which Loki supposes is good as Thor is so oversensitized there’s no telling when one touch is too much.

With Thor in his lap, knotted and plugged full of alpha come, Loki tucks his chin between the man’s neck and shoulder, avoiding the mark on the other shoulder altogether. ‘You should come again to finalize the deal.’

Thor groans, tilting his head back, hips still moving without his conscious effort to milk the come that Loki pumps into him every few minutes. ‘You were the one latched onto my shoulder as I fucking came. That’s pretty final.’

‘That’s ritual,’ argues Loki, ‘we should make it more personal.’

‘I can’t do it,’ says Thor, breathless, ‘fuck, I can’t, I’m so strung out – shit.’

‘Can’t or won’t?’

‘Loki.’

Loki pulls his head back, kissing the first vertebrae of Thor’s spine, his nose buried in the sweaty, matted blonde hair. He gently scrapes his teeth over the knob as he fits his hands onto Thor’s sides, skittering his fingertips up and down the man’s sides.

Thor’s breath already quickens from the gentle ministrations and he turns his head as if to scold Loki only to cut off when Loki slides his mouth from the man’s vertebrae to the mark on his shoulder. He kisses it – all gentle and breathy, tongue slipping out to trace the outer ridges of unmarked skin.

‘Oh god, you can’t, fuck,’ stutters Thor, whose cock rises without his volition at the stimulation of his mark.

‘Thor,’ murmurs Loki against the skin and the man is throwing a hand over his face, breathing harshly.

‘Fine, oh god – do it, I don’t know how – Loki – ’

The rambling is more of a turn on than anything else – Thor’s loss of control as he moves his hips and lets his cock flush upwards, already leaking clear precome as Loki blows over the mark, the resulting chill as his saliva dries coldly over Thor’s skin.

Loki’s hands dance upwards, skimming over Thor’s nipples, tugging gently and carefully as Thor sobs. Slowly, he scrapes his thumbnail over one peaked nipple, tracing the aureole, then the other, one at a time so as not to overwhelm Thor completely. It takes a minute of Loki’s teasing before he sees that Thor’s cock is ready, finally standing at full-mast.

His fingers play up the underside of Thor’s dick before he gently grasps it, feeling Thor’s head loll from side to side as his entire body stiffens then relaxes from the nerve-endings all firing. He strokes it once, twice, until Thor’s hands are in fists and he’s panting, ‘fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me, you – shit – ’

‘Come, my bitch,’ murmurs Loki into the man’s ear, possession clear in his voice, ‘come all over my cock,’ and he nips at the mark on Thor’s shoulder. Instantaneously, Thor’s body seizes and his dick twitches out one last weak orgasm, dribbling clear spunk over Loki’s fingers, begging for him to taste it again.

‘Fuck,’ says Thor weakly. Loki laughs into the man’s back and surreptitiously licks off the come from his hand. They laze against the couch, catching their breaths and Loki’s cock still pumping weak spurts of come into Thor’s ass.

‘We’re going to do this over and over again,’ Loki says, nuzzling once against Thor’s cheek as the man’s head tilts back and rests on Loki’s shoulder.

‘Yeah?’ mumbles Thor, half-asleep. ‘Next month too?’

‘Yes. And when you go out, they’re all gonna smell me on you,’ hums Loki happily.

‘Cause you’re my mate,’ clarifies Thor drowsily.

‘Yeah,’ says Loki, letting it settle in, feeling the fact warm his belly with something very much different from lust. He’s been feeling it more often with Thor. It feels right. Good. ‘Yeah. Cause I’m yours.’ The words feel foreign on his tongue and he almost scrambles to take them back in fear of becoming some sappy shit like Thor.

But Thor presses his cheek to Loki’s, once, an affectionate nudge that has Loki’s stomach fucking blooming with warmth. ‘And I’m yours, yeah.’

The phrase sticks with him for the rest of Thor’s heat, and the next, and the next, and the –

-