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It had been a spectacularly dull few months when Loki felt the odd ping of a summoning, like a flick against a distant bell. Of course, dull was better than the months before that, between the incident with Thrym and the rest. Thor was still barely speaking to him - which was perfectly acceptable as far as Loki was concerned, even if it had not even been his fault and it was his idea that gave Thor his bloodbath.
Still, there was only so much idleness Loki could tolerate, and his summons were few and far enough between these days that he was at least interested enough to investigate. He closed the book he’d been attempting to decipher - damned Ljosalfar scrawl - tucked it under his arm, and exited the library.
As though summoned by the thought of his absence, Thor was there. Loki cocked an eyebrow at him. “Have you been standing out here for long? The door does not lock. Or does the prospect of walking into a library strike fear into the mighty Thor’s fearless breast?”
Thor’s nose pinched and his lips thinned. “The Warriors Three and I are riding this afternoon,” he announced. Loki did not pause, forcing Thor to follow him. Petty, perhaps, but he could accept that.
“Thank you for informing me,” he said dryly. Thor exhaled loudly.
“I am asking if you would join us, Loki.”
“I did not hear a question.” Loki glanced just briefly over his shoulder. “Besides, I thought you’d forsworn my company.”
Thor’s expression of annoyance was perhaps a little satisfying. “I was angry, brother. In a temper. I did not mean it.”
“Mm. Did you also not mean what you said about my sexual proclivities, or was that more sincere? Forgive me, I am simply seeking clarification.”
“Loki-” Thor made an exasperated noise. “Must you remember everything? I meant it no more than you meant it when you said I had the brains of a dead ox.”
“I did not mean that?” Loki said lightly, not slowing his step. Thor gripped his shoulder, then, whirling him around.
“Stop this,” he said. “I am trying to offer peace-”
“Conveniently without apology,” Loki snapped, his temper rising before he reigned it back in. “Besides, it does not matter.” He shook Thor’s hand off. “I will not be joining you. I’ve been summoned.”
Thor blinked. “You have?” He said. Loki raised his eyebrows, and at least Thor seemed to realize that he might have been ever so slightly offensive, because he added, “not that it is so surprising.”
“I’m sure,” Loki said. He turned and moved on. “Yes, I have. It happens, you know. And I am more interested in that than I am in tagging along on an afternoon ride with you and the Oafs Three.” Loki paused for an artful moment. “No offense meant.”
He could almost hear Thor frowning. “Mortals never ask for anything interesting.”
“Oh, but you still enjoy their offerings, don’t you?” Loki flashed a sharp smile over his shoulder. “Some of us cannot take such things for granted. When they call me, it is because they know I will answer. And I can ask whatever I like, with that kind of need as leverage.” Thor frowned, looking a little dubious.
“You are not cruel to them,” he said, a hint of chiding to his voice. Loki swallowed the urge to point out to Thor that he had left his share of weeping no-longer-maidens strewn across Midgard, and if that was not cruel...there would be no point. He just smiled, sharp edged.
“They keep calling me, don’t they?” He turned his back, resolutely. “Enjoy yourself, brother mine. I am sure you will have a diverting ride. The more so for my absence.”
“Loki,” he heard Thor start to object, but he simply stepped out of the hallway and into his room, not prepared to tolerate any more of his brother’s company at the moment.
Once alone, Loki reached for that small ping of feeling and solidified the link, like a hand reaching back to clasp one offered. It was easy, with that connection formed, to make the step from Asgard to Midgard without bothering with Heimdall or the Bifrost.
He recognized his surroundings at once. Glancing down the mountainside, he could see the outline of the village he remembered, though it seemed to have grown. There were a few places like this, that knew him better than others, and this one he remembered rather more clearly than most, not least because it was here he had been most recently. He turned toward the cave he had claimed, perfectly placed above a natural ley line. There were the traces of a fire in front of the opening, and Loki felt a peculiar flash of deja vu, familiarity that made him wish he had examined the summoning more closely.
There was always the chance this could be some kind of trap. Some villagers had tried that once, thinking to trap the god of evil in some hedgewitch woven snare and thereby gain the blessing of Thor. They would have been lucky to gain the blessing of a quick death if it had actually worked.
As it was, while the petty sorcery had managed to make Loki feel a bit ill, it did not prevent him from hexing the entire settlement. If they’d survived the plague, blight, and infestation of serpents, Loki was certain they would have realized by now that not a one of them was capable of bearing children. In another decade, any survivors would be gone.
Thor probably would have been kinder.
Still, Loki knew humans could be clever - one of the few things he respected about them - and so moved forward with some caution, reaching out with his magic to probe the cave. Only one heartbeat inside, and the taste of his essence was…
Loki fell still and blinked once, slowly. He remembered all of his sacrifices, to some extent, but some better than others. The young woman who had asked him to teach her magic. The boy who had wanted Loki to be his lover (and he had agreed, but then he was dead scarce a year later of a spear in his belly). Others, now and then. But this one had been the most interesting in some time. He’d come to Loki small, fragile, dying, and yet with a fire burning in his soul that far outstripped his body, and he’d asked for the ability to defend his people. Loki had wondered idly what might have become of him, but never enough to seek him out. And now here he was, summoning Loki.
Moving forward, still slow but no longer quite so cautious, Loki stepped into his cave. He saw his sacrifice at once - Steve, that was his name - but he was no longer the scrawny weakling he had been. Loki had known what the spell was meant to do, but seeing its results was something else: he was only a little shorter than Loki now, and broader, built more like Thor, wearing leather armor, a round shield discarded on the floor.
Steve was standing looking up at the infinite ceiling and Loki watched him, caught between fascination and strange unease. With the one exception, he had never encountered the same sacrifice twice. And never summoned by the same after the fact. He could give them bliss for a night for what he claimed from them, and their heart’s desire in the bargain, but most mortals were smart enough to run far away after.
Apparently not this one.
“This is a surprise,” Loki murmured. Steve turned, and even if the rest had changed, his eyes were the same: blue, expressive, vibrant. Loki cocked his head a deliberate fraction to the side. “More trouble in your village? And they’ve sent you again.”
Steve stared at him for a long moment, an odd expression on his face, and then seemed to shake himself, dropping his gaze to the ground and himself to his knees. “Loki,” he said, and there was a tone to his voice that made something odd shiver down Loki’s spine.
“You have been here before, ignorant,” he said, still mostly toneless, though he took a step forward, for now restraining the urge to lay a hand on the top of Steve’s head. “But now you know exactly what you call. And that did not send you running as far from me as you could go?”
“No,” Steve said, his voice firm and resolute for all Loki could see him shaking. Loki took a quiet step nearer but did not reach out, not just yet, studying the top of his head.
“Go on then,” he said after a moment, one corner of his lips curling slightly upwards. “What is it you come here to ask of me?”
“Not ask,” Steve said. He looked up, then, and the expression on his face was...Loki hesitated, shifting very slightly back. “I wanted to thank you.”
Loki jerked back before he could stop himself. “Thank me?” He said, and then recovered himself a moment too late. “You summoned me for that?”
There was a brief flicker of uncertainty on Steve’s face. “Yes?” He said, slowly. “I have...because of what you did, I’ve been able to help like I never could before. A band of raiders attacked and we beat them back with hardly any losses, and I could do something. I can help build, and harvest, and, and work. The other day Elsa fell into the river and I could save her instead of just watching because if I tried to swim I’d die.” Steve looked up at him, painfully earnest. “And that’s because of you.”
It had been more of an experiment than anything. Some part of Loki, even as he cast the working to coax Steve’s body to strengthen and grow, had thought I wonder how quickly he will get himself killed. He’d been fulfilling his end of a bargain, giving Steve what he wanted in exchange - in appreciation - for what Steve had given him.
(Strength. Power. Worship. Pleasure.)
In all his years performing this exchange, no one had ever called him back to thank him.
Loki found that he liked the feeling.
“It does seem to have worked well for you,” he said, cocking his head a fraction to the side and letting his eyes roam over Steve’s body. “And it sounds as though you have...used it well.” To become a hero, perhaps, and the idea made Loki want to laugh. That he, mischief-maker, trickster, sly one, should be responsible for a new Sigurd…
What a thought.
Steve’s blue eyes (so striking) were very bright. “I told them all that it was you,” he said, and Loki felt a peculiar shiver down his spine. “They thought-” He stopped, but Loki did not need to hear them say it. He half smiled.
“I know the names I am known by. None are inaccurate.”
“But they aren’t the whole truth either,” Steve said. He looked nervous, Loki realized, but not afraid, not like he had the first time. There was still respect, and a little bit of awe, but not the fear. Loki found he liked that as well.
“Perhaps,” he said after a moment, taking a small step forward. “So. You came to...thank me. That was all?”
Steve hesitated, and Loki thought with some amusement, ah, here it is. He wondered if he would grant whatever wish it was without asking for payment. It would not hurt to show some largesse. On the other hand, as he had told Thor, it was not as though he had an excess of worshippers to draw from. “No,” Steve said slowly. “Not exactly.”
Loki let the corner of his lips quirk upwards. “Speak.”
“You said,” Steve said slowly, dropping his eyes. “You said you needed...my life. And I...as thanks, if you wished, I wanted to offer myself again.”
Ah. Loki stilled. Not a request then, or not precisely. This was not even like the boy who had asked to be his lover. Not a request, and not a sacrifice. This was an offering.
An electric tingle ran down his spine, sudden intense warmth pooling in his belly. Loki half closed his eyes and breathed in, absorbing the feeling of it, the hum under his skin, the thirst that uncoiled and rose. The power of a sacrifice was enough to get drunk on. An offering was more. He had not even touched Steve and he could taste it. “Is that so,” he said, once he thought he could speak without simply saying yes and claiming everything Steve could give.
Steve’s throat bobbed, his eyes flicking up again, and dark, predatory hunger seemed to purr at the back of Loki’s mind. “Yes,” he said after a moment, and his voice sounded a little rougher. Loki wondered if he could feel it.
“How peculiar,” Loki murmured, slowly gliding to where he could reach out and tilt Steve’s head back with one finger. “Most seem to find one night with me enough.”
Steve swayed, his eyes sliding slightly out of focus for just a moment. Something leaped in Loki’s stomach, the prickling hum down his spine sharper, more intense, and he could feel his body responding to it. That was...new. That Steve should react so strongly to a touch - that he would…
The old magic was strange and fickle even to such as him.
“That’s them,” Steve said, sounding like he was trying very hard to keep his voice steady.
Loki ran his thumb lightly along Steve’s jaw to his throat. “Such a noble gift for you to give,” he murmured. “To offer up your very self, again…” Steve’s eyelids fluttered.
“I don’t. Hm. It’s - an honor.” His face was flushed a fetching shade of pink, his eyes faintly glazed, where they fixed on Loki’s face. Loki let go and he heard Steve exhale harshly.
“Stand,” he said. Steve obeyed, and Loki smiled. “Ask again.”
Steve’s breath caught. “Will you...accept my offering?”
Loki kissed him. Not gently, but not with everything in him, either, and let the old magic wrap around them both. Loki resonated with it like a rung bell and let it flood through him, the feeling like something unfurling. He could feel Steve like a blaze, his essence luminous and steady and bending toward him like it wanted claiming. And when he touched it-
His senses lit up all at once. A taste, not even that, and something of that inferno jumped to him. He felt Steve gasp, the ecstasy flooding through him only partially physical.
“Yes,” Loki said, when he had his voice, though it sounded like a growl. “I accept.” Steve looked at him, pupils large and eyes wide. Loki pulled his head back and set his teeth to the skin of Steve’s throat as he had imagined, felt him quiver, his hands leaping to Loki’s sides. Loki bit down and Steve cried out, his back arching, body brushing against Loki’s so he could feel what the act of linking energies alone had done. Loki licked his lips and began pushing him back toward the cave.
“Loki,” Steve said, or gasped, and the use of his name, the invocation of it, made Loki shudder. He gave up on making it so far as the altar and backed Steve against a wall, grabbed his wrists and fixed them over his head with a flick of magic, barely noticing the effort. He pressed against Steve, thigh grinding against his groin as Loki claimed his mouth.
He could feel Steve shaking, and despite the new muscle and height it still felt the same when he came. So quickly, the force of the magic pushing him hard. When Loki pulled back Steve’s face was flushed. “Sorry-” he said, embarrassment creeping into his voice. “I didn’t mean-”
A low rumble of a laugh vibrated in Loki’s chest and he slid one of his hands from Steve’s hair to cup his throat, very lightly, running his tongue over the sharp line of his jaw. “Don’t apologize.” He could taste salt-sweat and something subtler. It took him a moment to realize what it was, and when he had it, a shiver ran through his whole body.
It was his claim. His mark, still lingering, etched in Steve’s soul. Loki would have purred, if he were able. “You have not had anyone else,” he said. “Since me. Lain with no other.”
He felt Steve’s shaky inhale, the way his throat bobbed against Loki’s palm. “No,” he said after a moment. “I...haven’t.”
“Good,” Loki said. Steve’s eyes closed, for just a fraction of a second, his lips parted, face already flushed. Looking at him, heat swept through Loki’s body and he pressed forward, kissing Steve roughly, teeth in his lip.
“Can I-” Steve’s voice was rough when he broke away. “Can I touch you?”
His hands. Loki laughed a little and released the spell holding them bound. Almost immediately Steve’s hands were on his hips, the same bold touch that had thrilled him before, and while he had expected more force, more weight as Steve made use of his new strength, instead it was light - not cautious, or fearful. Reverent, maybe, as he nudged Loki back and knelt again, looking up.
His eyes really were so very blue, Loki thought, one of his hands falling to run through Steve’s hair, smile curving the corners of his mouth. He let Steve undo the laces and expose him, the soft whisper of his breath making his body clench taut. He dragged his fingernails over Steve’s scalp and heard him gasp. Loki could feel the link between them humming and drank it in thirstily, old power with all its savage potency.
Steve’s tongue licked delicately at his very tip and it sang through Loki like the vibration of a tuning fork. He threw his head back with a low sound and felt Steve inhale sharply as the motion tugged Loki’s hand in his hair. “Ah-”
He closed his eyes when Steve took him in his mouth, soft and warm and wet, the pressure of his tongue and the deep tug when he sucked, and he might be broad shoulders and strong muscle now but he still gave to Loki with the same fervent near desperation of before. An eager, almost greedy worshipper, kneeling, his breathing heavy.
Steve shifted his head, his eyes closed, and moved his hand from Loki’s cock to his hip, working his way down slowly. Loki felt his cock nudge the back of Steve’s throat and the vibration of Steve’s faint, strained sound; his stomach burned, his blood searing in his veins.
“Yes,” he said, voice ragged. “Give me everything, I will, I will-”
How had he ever made do, Loki wondered vaguely, with a sacrificial bargain, when this was what an offering freely given felt like? When he could feel his own pleasure echoing back to Steve, and the same in reverse, a glorious feedback loop of sensation and pleasure.
When he came, some of his seed spilling out of the corner of Steve’s mouth, he caught it with his thumb and sucked the finger clean, eyes locked on Steve to make sure he saw. Steve shuddered, eyes all pupil, half drunk on it already. Loki reached down and pulled Steve up, dragging him into a hungry, devouring kiss, his heart pounding against his ribs.
“I will make you mine,” Loki said. Steve’s head fell back, baring his throat.
“Already am,” he exhaled, shivering. Loki heard himself inhale, raggedly, and bent his head to take that invitation, sucking until he knew it would bruise. Yes, he thought. Yes.
This time, Loki pushed Steve down on his back, peeling away his leggings and taking a moment to consider him before bending down and licking him clean. Steve quivered under him and Loki’s body warmed, feeling him stir again at the brush of his tongue. He laughed, lowly. “Eager,” he murmured.
“Y-yes,” Steve said, his voice unsteady. Loki pressed his nose into the crease of Steve’s hip and hummed, inhaling the musky sex smell of him, laced with that intoxicating undercurrent of his claim, his mark. “Oh - oh…”
Loki laughed but it was slightly breathless, deep warmth coalescing in his stomach in a sweet, hot burn. He dragged himself up Steve’s body and kissed him, slow and savage, sucking on his tongue, thigh pushing his legs apart so when Loki raised himself up he could look down and see his offering laid out, flushed and breathing hard. His eyes were bright, lust-darkened and fixed on Loki; his skin was sheened with sweat and Loki could see his muscles ripple as he tried to stay still.
“You certainly are a splendid thing,” Loki murmured, and Steve’s eyes closed with a shuddering inhale.
“You’re - beautiful,” he said, tongue stumbling over the words, but Loki still felt them like a soft caress down his spine. Steve raised his hands slowly, fingers spreading out across his shoulder blades. Loki threw his head back and smiled. “There’s something-” Steve trailed off, apparently at a loss, but when his eyes opened the expression of awe there was enough.
Loki lowered himself over him and rocked against him slowly, cock rubbing against Steve’s hip. Steve shifted, though, and for a moment Loki lost the friction but then Steve’s thighs pressed with his cock between them. He gasped softly and Steve looked at him with wide, wide eyes.
“Good?” He asked breathlessly, almost desperate for praise.
“Yes.” Not as good as the hot wet of his mouth or the squeeze of his ass, but certainly good, and Loki moved his hips in slow thrusts, Steve’s slowly reawakening cock rubbing against him with every stroke. The connection between them hummed, burned, growing ever more intense until Loki spilled again, shockingly quickly, painting Steve’s thighs with his seed.
He didn’t pause, lifting his hips and slicking his hand with his own come before he gripped Steve’s cock and tugged, twisting his wrist. Steve threw his head back with a strangled cry and Loki drank in the sound, drank in the way Steve’s body went rigid, one of his hands flying up to grip Loki’s shoulder seemingly without thinking.
As when he’d touched Loki’s hips it was bold, almost testing a boundary Loki had never had to set out in words. But something thrilled through him, sharp and electric, from the point of contact – a shuddering kind of near ecstasy that he couldn’t push away.
He passed his thumb over the head of Steve’s cock, pushing at the slit; traced the nerve-filled ridge under the head and stroked back down to squeeze the base. Steve’s mouth opened wide but the only sound he made was an airless sort of “ah!”, and Loki bent his head to thrust his tongue languidly into Steve’s mouth as he worked him up to the edge only to stop.
“No-!” Steve burst out, and then swallowed, torn between desperate arousal and sudden fear. Loki almost swayed, intoxicated.
“No?” He purred. Steve shivered.
“Please,” he amended. “I want – please.”
Loki squeezed lightly and the sound Steve made went straight to his loins. “What will you do for it,” he teased. Steve twisted, squirming.
“I’d – I’d – what do you want?”
“What more do you have?” Loki asked, mostly curious. He wouldn’t refuse, wouldn’t leave him unfinished. Never.
“I don’t…I’m not…”
Loki recommenced his strokes and Steve shouted, arching off the altar as his hips pumped into Loki’s hand. He imagined doing this with his mouth: later. When he’d finished taking, he could be generous. Do things to Steve with his tongue that no mortal could replicate. Though it wouldn’t all be generosity.
He brought Steve even closer this time. The sound he made when Loki stopped was one of near pain, his eyes squeezed closed. “Loki,” he nearly sobbed. “Loki, please.”
Swear yourself to me, he almost said. Give yourself to me, alone, forever.
He dropped his head to bite Steve’s throat and finished him in two strokes. He brought his hand up to Steve’s mouth and pressed his fingers to his lips. “Lick them clean,” he commanded softly, and Steve let out a soft moan and opened his mouth, sucking his own come off of Loki’s fingers.
“Good,” Loki praised, running his fingers into Steve’s hair. The way he quivered, eyes floating closed, was infinitely satisfying.
Steve’s stamina, Loki learned, was improved. He could last longer, now, even without the magic binding them assisting. He required shorter pauses, less often. And as intoxicating as fear could be, the eagerness with which Steve approached him now was better.
“Oh-“ Steve said, startled as Loki tipped him back, catching one of his legs and throwing it over his shoulder, but it turned quickly to, “ohhh,” when Loki wrapped his lips around his cock and sucked, almost ruthless.
It wasn’t necessary, even for this. The come he’d already taken, licked off Steve’s skin, would be enough. Essence willingly given that he could draw power from for months, if he was careful. But Loki took a certain pleasure in this – the directness of it, the act itself. And the gratitude didn’t hurt.
Besides, Loki thought idly as he slid his lips an inch further down, it would help Steve relax for his fingers.
He hummed, swirling his tongue as he slid his fingers between Steve’s buttocks, let his finger-tips drift over the tight furl of muscle and felt Steve gasp quietly. He rubbed his fingers slowly back and forth, finding sensitive places to press, summoned lubricant for his index finger and drew slow circles. Loki waited until he’d swallowed half Steve’s length and let just his fingertip slip inside. Steve jerked but Loki sucked noisily and he subsided with a shudder and a moan.
He worked his finger in slowly as he took Steve’s cock, and when he started to move his head he started moving his finger as well, twisting, pressing as Steve’s heels pressed into his back and each touch of Loki’s tongue drew strangled, animal sounds from Steve’s throat.
He opened even easier for Loki’s second finger, both fingers sliding in and out as smoothly as the thick weight on Loki’s tongue. He could feel Steve nearing the edge and slowed down, lifting his head to release his cock entirely. He looked up, waiting for Steve to look down and knowing how it would look – his lips red and swollen, connected by a thin string of saliva to Steve’s glistening, aching cock.
The expression on Steve’s face, when he did look, made Loki’s body almost cramp with arousal, and he lifted Steve’s cock with his tongue and slid down again, this time teasing with his throat, offering, promising but not giving.
The sound of his offering panting, gasping, desperate, sang through Loki’s blood. He brought a third finger into line and opened his throat at the same time as he thrust his fingers inside.
Steve shouted, his body seizing up as he came, ass clenching around Loki’s fingers inside him. He still managed to find the right spot, curling his fingers and rubbing until every last drop had spilled and Steve was gasping like he couldn’t breathe.
Loki lifted his head slowly, gasping a little himself for the rush, erect again and hungry. He lowered Steve’s legs from his shoulders to the altar and pushed himself up. Steve’s cheeks were bright red, his chest heaving and skin damp with sweat. Naked and glorious, used.
Loki took himself in hand and brought himself to climax onto his quivering stomach, his pulse pounding in his ears. Perfect, he thought, and dropped down to stretch out next to Steve and whisper it in his ear, “perfect.”
Steve shivered, turning a little toward him and opening his glazed blue eyes. “I am?”
“Oh, yes,” Loki told him. “Oh yes.”
Steve’s head lolled wearily to the side and Loki leaned in to suck marks into his neck, bright red bruises that would not fade for days.
Mine, he thought. And let me brand my name into you so deep and so well that it will never be otherwise.
To his surprise, it was Steve who moved first. Who got up and rolled over, straddling Loki’s hips, and Loki raised his eyebrows but didn’t object. He swallowed.
“Can I…do you want to fuck me?”
“Haven’t I been doing just that?” Loki said lazily. He moved his hands to Steve’s hips, fingers resting lightly on his skin.
“I mean – like you did last time. Inside.”
Loki let his lips curve in a smile. “Do you want me to?” Offer it to me. A gift. He already felt nearly incandescent with power, half drunk on it, his body singing as he’d never known it was capable. He could conquer worlds, feeling like this.
But more? Oh, he wouldn’t say no.
“Yes,” Steve said, his voice cracking a little, and Loki reached up to pull him down into a kiss. Offering him back just a little of the strength he’d taken.
“Like this,” he whispered on Steve’s lips. “You riding me. I want to see you come. Want to see the look on your face when I come inside you.”
Steve’s eyes closed and he shivered, nodding. Loki stroked his thighs and watched him move slowly, lifting his body and moving to where he could take Loki’s cock and stroke him back to stiffness, licking his palm to smooth the motion of his hand. Loki leaned back, eyes half closed, as Steve moved himself into position and pushed down.
He let out a sharp gasp at the first press of Loki’s cock into him and Loki himself echoed it, his eyes fluttering closed. Hot and tight and close, slicked by his earlier attentions and Steve’s own preparations. He resisted the urge to snap his hips upward seeking more, holding himself still as Steve quivered and took a deep breath and pushed down, and the rest of Loki’s cock slid smoothly in like Steve’s body was made for him.
“Oh,” Loki heard himself exhale, and Steve made a small sound, almost a whimper, his hands fluttering on Loki’s stomach. It was as good as, better than Loki remembered, all of him engulfed in sweet clenching warmth, an offering just for him.
And when Steve began to move – exquisite, almost too intense friction, the roll of his hips agonizingly slow and Loki was tempted to flip them over and plough Steve like a field but he held back, threw his head back and rode the wave of cresting pleasure.
“Loki,” Steve said, voice hushed, awed, and then “my god,” and Loki inhaled, every nerve humming, vibrating. Everything in him blazing up like when they’d first connected, glorious and intense and overwhelming, building in him alongside his orgasm.
“I would – ah-“ The motion of Steve’s hips was quickening; maybe he could feel it too. “I would have you, Steve. For my own. If you called on me – I would answer. And if I needed – you would give. You could praise – praise whatever other gods you wish, but me – first, always first-”
Steve let out an explosive breath. “Yes,” he said, seemingly without hesitation. “Yes,” and Loki came, grabbing Steve’s hips and slamming him down onto his cock, rocking up against him as though he could drive himself deeper. He grabbed Steve’s chin and dragged him down with his other hand, kissing him savagely, biting his lip until blood was drawn and then lapping it away.
Then he went limp. Dizzy, drunk, swimming in ecstasy and glory, Steve slumped on his chest wrung out and drained. Loki touched him lightly and Steve turned his face into Loki’s hand with a soft sound.
Loki could not keep himself from smiling.
“Did you mean it,” Steve said eventually, his voice blurry.
“Did I mean what?”
“What you said, about…about wanting me.”
Loki laughed, back in his throat. “It would be a problem if I hadn’t, as it is already done.”
He felt Steve shiver. “Could I feel it?”
Loki reached for the link between them. Reforged and shimmering. Instead of pulling on it, though, he pushed – offering some of what he felt now. Steve gasped softly, his skin flashing warmer than it already was before it cooled again. “Oh,” he breathed, and turned just slightly toward Loki as though to press into him. As though Loki was lover and not god.
Well, Loki thought, what was the trouble with blurring the distinction? Steve was warm, and for the moment he was comfortable. Soon he would leave. But for the moment…
Steve smelled like him. Livid marks marred his neck, across his chest.
No, Loki thought lazily. He was in no hurry.