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A Role to Play

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The Odinson's hand is gentle on his head, cradling the back of his skull and fingers twining through his hair, as Loki worships his cock with lips and tongue and quick, clever fingers. If only that were the most galling part of it, perhaps it would be tolerable then. If it were only that Thor's guidance was gentle and that Loki simmered in hate for that gentleness, he would not be so miserable here.

But, no. The truly most appaling thing was that Loki enjoyed it. He enjoyed the heavy lidded look on the prince's face, the patient expression he wore as Loki licked a long, slow stripe up his length, that they both knew full well they were only beginning, that this night would be long. That it was Loki who ached to hurry things along, to have that large cock inside him, to spear him open and push everything else out of him, no thoughts of the role he must play here, no thoughts of what waited for him if he failed, no thoughts of what cunning thing he could say to twist Thor to his will, always wondering just how far he could step before it was too far. Not even any thoughts of what he could do or who he could be, if he were free of these chains that held him.

It was glorious for a short time and Loki was almost thankful for those moments. Just as he almost truly loathed Thor, who had surprised him with honesty and directness, rather than using him and discarding him, as a prince of Asgard could have.

Thor's fingers slide from his hair along the length of his jaw as Loki takes the head in his mouth and swirls his tongue over the tip. He's only beginning to bob his head over Thor's cock, when he's carefully pulled up, tugged up the length of Thor's body, who is apparently not in the mood for Loki's clever tongue tonight. At least not there, Loki realizes, as Thor kisses him softly and settles him neatly against the larger body. Loki's knees slide easily to either side of Thor's hips and their cocks brush against each other, Loki grinding against him more eagerly than he intended.

There is a smile against his mouth and Loki knows he's been seen through, but he can use that to his advantage as well. Let Thor think that he's merely pretending to be eager for this, that he is the Jotunheim whore who shows no honesty in word or deed, not even unintentionally.

He is not as successful as he might have hoped, or perhaps Thor is more insightful than he had first assumed, because there is no retaliatory painful grip on him or a fistful of hair used to bend his head back and bare his throat in a show of submission, only another gentle hand along his spine. The fingers are spread out, such power in only one hand, never mind when both of them are suddenly on Loki's body, fitting neatly over his hips to raise him up and then settle him back down, Thor's cock now pressed up against the curve of his ass. And, oh, it's so close to what he wants, his own cock twitching against Thor's stomach.

When Thor laughs, low and faint, felt more than heard, he knows he's been caught again. He turns his face away, his cheek settling against Thor's shoulder, thankful that he's so much cooler than Thor naturally that his heated face won't be noticed. Not that it matters, he'll sob out Thor's name before the night is through, Thor will not rest until he's wrung that from Loki. But he is stubborn and cannot make himself give everything over just yet.

He is allowed at least that much, Thor doesn't pull him back just yet, even if there is more abhorrent tenderness from Thor as he strokes Loki's sides and then cups Loki's ass to thrust shallowly against it. It's not much yet, not when Thor is still reclined back against the headboard and Loki is sprawled across him. But it will be soon. Thor's fingers are already seeking him out, gliding along the seam of his ass, across his entrance and further down, brushing against his balls. Loki shivers at being touched so intimately, still not used to it after hardly being able to lay with anyone else before, and the only way it could be more intimate is if Thor's fingers were inside him.

It's a bitter loss when Thor moves again, Loki viciously hating him for feeling any loss at all, that he's been reduced to this, but he knows they'll be back soon, slick and probing and insistent. He wants to bite at the tender skin of Thor's neck, sink his teeth in and tear him apart for what he's doing to Loki, for the humiliation of wanting that touch back. He hates Thor for knowing it and using it to his advantage, cruel only in the way that he's slowly coaxing Loki to him. Which is the cruelest thing of all.

As expected, they return, warm and well oiled, not wasting any time as two fingers press into him. It's uncomfortable only for a moment, swifter than he expected, but the burn of the stretch is a welcome distraction. Thor twists his fingers hard enough inside Loki that he's forced to gasp softly, his own hands turned to claws against Thor's shoulders to hold on, and the way Thor radiates amusement is most certainly not his imagination. Ah, if only he could retaliate properly, he would smash his fist straight into Thor's face, would wipe that smirk right off his face. Thor may think he treats Loki fairly and not like a fragile treasure, but one day Loki will make him do it truly--so that he will not have to endure this fond, caring touch that makes him ache so.

A third finger soon joins them, either Thor is as eager as he is or is giving Loki what he wants tonight, and it's almost enough, for Loki opens easily for him. They press deep into him, not as deep as Thor's cock will go, but far more flexible and mobile. The tips of his fingers rub against Loki's insides, stroking as far as they can go in such a tight space, until they graze against the bundle of nerves that sends a sharp jolt of sensation up Loki's spine. He clamps down tightly and breathes harshly against Thor's skin, praying that he has just a moment to compose himself. But, no, he is not granted such.

Thor hums against the side of Loki's head, clearly pleased with himself, and flexes his fingers, easily finding that same spot again and again, until Loki is rocking back against that hand and then harshly forward against Thor's stomach. Thor's thumb circles around the stretched skin of his entrance, the blunt nail occasionally scraping across the too sensitive muscle, and it's nearly enough. If he could just get a bit more friction on his cock, if Thor would just be a little more consistent when working his fingers inside Loki--

By the time he's just moments away from release, that's when Thor pulls away and grasps his hips to keep him still, no chance for anything now, and Loki truly hates him. Wants to hate him openly and hates him even more for knowing that Thor would only find it amusing, that Loki would lose this dangerous game if he gave something so real to the prince of Asgard.

Instead, he suppresses the shivers that have taken hold of him, forces himself languid in Thor's arms and wraps arms loosely about his neck. When he's sure of himself, Loki pulls back to smile at Thor, all soft focus and faint upturning of lips and gentle touch to broad shoulders to steady himself. Thor looks straight on at him with a measuring look and Loki finds himself unsure of just how well his mask is in place. It's difficult to feign casualness when his cock is still hard and leaking against his belly and he aches to simply lift up and press that hard length into himself and ride Thor until he's wrung them both dry. Just the thought makes his nerves twinge.

It's never so easy for him, though. Thor's fingers return after a moment, circling around his hole twice before pushing back in and he can't grind down onto them, he can't, he can't. Then Thor's other hand his gentle on the side of his face, thumb stroking across Loki's lower lip, and he thinks about nipping at it or sucking the thumb into his mouth, laving at it and worshipping it as he did Thor's cock earlier, to gain back some of this ground he's lost.

"And how would you like me to have you tonight?" Thor asks him and it should be an easy question to answer. It shouldn't matter, he can suggest any number of ways to be had, and none of them will give anything of himself away.

Except that Thor is more strategic than he would like--not clever, because this is insight that was hard won through many nights of trying to prise anything true away from Loki--and he's being spread open on that hand in a way that's hard to think around. Any answer he gives will be nearly breathless as his body greedily takes what Thor is giving it and yearns for more, any answer will be thought about while Thor's fingers are buried to the last knuckle in his ass and he has little hope of not giving himself away then.

"Anything my lord prefers would be most welcome," Loki breathes. "I am not particular on this night."

Thor quickly presses a fourth finger inside him and, oh, he's back on the edge again, but not daring to move this time, not even to sink down just a little further onto them. If only he could, he would be satisfied with riding Thor's hand to his completion, rising and falling on it as furiously as he could, his hand on his own cock in a matching brutal pace.

But this is Thor's response to his lack of a real answer and so he presses Loki further, "No, you will tell me your preference and exactly what you would like this evening, clearly and thoroughly."

So much hate he has for Thor in this moment, to pry the words from him and spread him open in spirit as he does to Loki's body. He is never satisfied with what he takes from Loki and now he wishes to take this as well. And, as ever, Loki has no choice.

"Ah--" Thor presses deeper into him and Loki cannot help the sharp sound he makes or the way his hips buck upwards of their own accord. He cannot think in such conditions, it is asking that which is impossible from him. "On my back."

There is no reason, it is merely the first thing he thought of, the easiest to say. But now that he has said it, now that Thor has forced it from him to be said aloud, he cannot help the images that tumble through his thoughts.

"And how shall I have you on your back?"

Another sharp twist of Thor's fingers, the stroking inside him sending pure heat through his veins, and Loki must continue. "With my ankles over your shoulders as you move within me, my lord." Thor's pace evens out, a reward for giving what was asked, but only a temporary one. He is not finished yet. "And my hips tilted up so that the angle is best for being fully impaled on your cock, so that it cannot be driven any further into me each time you thrust forward, and I feel the full strength of how hard you will fuck me."

"Until when?"

Despite Thor's even rhythm now, this is torturous. Loki cannot hold out for much longer, not when he must detail such things and finds himself pulled along with the picture he is painting. He aches so terribly.

"Until my back is arched off the bed in pleasure, until I am screaming for all of Asgard to hear how well fucked I am by your ministrations, until I can no longer think of anything but your cock inside me taking me apart."

Oh, he's almost too far gone to see it, but the way Thor's cock twitches against his ass, distant to the feeling of the digits working within him as they push in and out of him, but still there, it catches his attention and then he notices the way Thor watches him. Loki's breath hitches, thankfully lost in the way Thor is nearing him closer and closer to the edge, but he sees it.

Underneath the power and control he has here, Thor yearns for him. Not just to have his body, but something more. Maybe his true servitude, maybe loyalty, maybe even Loki's heart. And, oh, he will use this to wrap the Odinson's will around his fingers, he will have this powerful king-to-be under his spell, will drag him down into the depths with Loki.

And so he lets go and gives Thor what he wants. It does not matter if this consumes him, for he will come out of it with a powerful tool in his hands, and he will not go home the same unwanted prince that he left it as. He will no longer be a dog to be sent to whatever master others choose for him.

Loki leans forward, lips nearly brushing Thor's, letting the heat blaze in his eyes. "You will fuck me until I am exhausted from it, my voice gone from the shouting I will do, until my hole is swollen and raw from the heat of your cock, and I cannot stand for my legs giving out underneath me. You will fuck me until even your strength is spent and I am filled with your seed, as it drips down the back of my legs, and you can see the way you have marked me. I will be so thoroughly had by you that I will never even think of another, that I shall never be satisfied by anything other than your cock."

Thor's gaze is hotter than the fires of Muspelheim, throwing them both over with a growl that sounds more animal than god, and it is a single moment before his back is flat against the bed and his legs are thrown over Thor's shoulders, and that large cock is slamming into him. And, as he promised, Loki's back arches off the bed with a cry, but he cares not.

He will have Thor Odinson and then he will have Asgard and then he will have everything. If he must give everything of himself to Thor in exchange, that is a bargain he will strike.