shieldborne | For magpiemythos

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For magpiemythos

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After a confusing, worrisome evening spent together, Steve seems to feel he and Loki have hit some kind of new level in their friendship. He's less wry and cagey, a little more overly solicitous and warm; still, in the cold light of day he's a lot more awkward about both physical and emotional intimacy, and if Loki reverts to his usual teasing banter, Steve will fall into the same comfort zone.

He thinks about him often when he's not there, though. Hoping he's found a safer, kinder way to fight his demons. Fearing he hasn't, and feeling helpless to do anything more about that than he already has. At least now, Loki won't have to initiate all their contacts. He'll get occasional texts and calls from Steve, asking if he wants something at a store, if he's seen x or y movie, whether he's all right.

The others are a little bemused about Steve's increasingly less subtle interest in their otherworldly acquaintance. Some of them are openly skeptical, afraid he could be being played, but since no one has anything against Loki, it remains a topic of quiet, civil debate.

It's early in the evening this time when Steve texts Loki. Just a brief note, and he doesn't entirely expect a response: They're trying to convince me to get a tattoo of a bald eagle with a tear running down its face. It's a conspiracy, they're all in on it.

I doubt it would last long with my healing factor even if I did.

How's your evening going?

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Loki has no patience for sharper dealings tonight. He's tapped emotionally, and would like nothing more but to sink into the affection that Steve was lavishing upon him. It's not his usual preference, but with his mood as it was, Steve's sweet behavior was just what he needed.

"Do you?" Murmured around a soft sigh for the attention to his ear, hands sliding down his back again when Steve moved over him, nails trailing lightly down his spine. "Might not be able to bounce a quarter off it, but when winter rolls around all these blankets are amazing."

He knows Steve's more about the neat and in it's place aesthetic, whereas Loki is in for casual chaos. Nothing too undone or messy, but more in the realm of... cheerfully hectic. Between that, and him being a hedonistic thing at best, it was little surprise his idea of the norm was a king sized bed with ungodly amounts of blankets and pillows.

Loki has discovered a sensitive spot. Steve breathes in another hiss of delight and his back arches as the nails move down his spine. On some level, his body remembers where the weak points used to be. The heart--the chest--and the spine that was once crooked and aching all the time. Now those places are sensitive, and the right touch sends heat sparking all the way down to his toes.

"Geez...mnnh. That's...that felt pretty great," he murmurs vaguely against Loki's neck, sliding down a little to get at his collarbones and the upper part of his shoulder.

"Sounds like heaven," he adds. "How about next time it snows I come over with cocoa and donuts and we'll do this again? The nice parts, at least."

"Yeah?" Loki couldn't help the lazy grin scrawling over his features, maybe not as sharp as usual, something a bit more relaxed. Hands moving still, touch lightly running along Steve's waist, fingers playing over the tops of his hips. "Guess I'll have to find all those nice little spots, hm?"

Steve wasn't doing too bad himself, if the soft noise of approval was any hint, the way Loki squirmed lightly under him.

"Sounds amazing. You can always come and help me set up my Christmas tree too. Make an evening of it." It was a silly thing to be sure, but Loki did like all the wintertime holidays and certainly didn't mind indulging in getting himself a tree to decorate.

"By all means," Steve says, sliding down and tangling their legs together. "Please, keep looking."

Hell, he may find some spots Steve didn't even know he had.

He kisses along his collarbone and gives him a gentle scrape of teeth there, not quite a bite so much as an open-mouthed kiss with a twist. Then he gives a happy little chuckle. "Christmas tree. I would love that."

They have one at the tower, too, but it's very posh by Steve's standards, funded largely by Tony. Which is nice, but there's a lot to be said for little and handmade and intimate, too.

"You're not doing too bad yourself." It took trust, to let someone near him, to bare his throat to anyone even if it was just for kisses. But with Steve he was discovering that trust came easily, that he didn't mind letting him in as much as others. And if he thought on why that was, he'd likely panic because of the emotion it suggested, but for now he was swept up in the moment and content to stay that way, hooking an ankle around Steve's when he tangled them in a bit more securely.

"Mhm. We can go pick one out and everything, the whole nine yards."

Steve may not realize quite how much trust he's getting at the moment. Throat kisses are one of his favorites, and sharing them is instinctive. He seems to be settling into what he's doing now, satisfied he's not going to be told off any time soon. He's intent on peppering soft kisses all across Loki's skin, leaving no spot untouched as he works his way down to his chest.

"You mean that?" He sounds eager, excited by the idea although it's a long time between now and Christmas. "That would be amazing. I'll bake you mediocre Christmas cookies."

For all he'd rarely accept the affection from many others, Loki does like the feel of that attention. The mouth against his throat, soft and warm. And he enjoys the way it feels as Steve's attention shifts, starting to trail down, one of his hands shifting up again to trail fingers through his hair in response with a soft noise of pleasure.

"I do." And the excitement Steve showed at that idea was... it was sweet. "We can bake cookies and watch Christmas movies. The whole kit and kaboodle."

Steve gives a little chuckle against his skin, kissing and nuzzling his sternum. "I like Die Hard. Die Hard counts as a Christmas movie, right?"

Either the first or the second works. It was Natasha's idea to introduce these to Steve, and he was fascinated in spite of the body count, which is funny considering he's a little ambivalent about violent movies (but he does like movies with explosions). He kisses and mouths one of his nipples lightly, gentle and almost tentative, then looks back up at him. "I can just about handle gingerbread cookies, I think."

Little gingerbread men with machine guns. Ho ho ho.

"Die Hard absolutely counts." Those movies were... a bizarre sort of spectacle to be sure, one that Loki had no trouble enjoying just for how ridiculous they tended to be.

His fingers carded through Steve's hair, curling against the strands as he hummed a pleased sort of approval, his other hand moving up his spine again in a firm, caressing sort of touch. When Loki felt his gaze, he peered down at Steve with a smile, brows lifting a bit at the thought.

"Gingerbread? We can frost little sunglasses on them and everything."

"Sounds like a plan," he murmurs and nibbles gently at his left pec, right over his heartbeat. "Gonna hold you to that promise."

His back arches again when Loki hits a sensitive spot, pressing their bodies more firmly together. Steve shivers and makes a low groan, lashes fluttering. "I'll make the frosting an' we can decorate them together."

He's rambling a little now, more focused on his bodily reactions than whatever they're talking about.

"Are you now?" Purred more than said; and truth be told Loki didn't mind it in the least. He meant it when he said he'd like to spend a day together like that, just enjoying holiday traditions. And Steve would likely be able to feel the tremor that zipped through the lithe body under him when he arched in like that, hand slowing to focus his touch a bit more when he got a reaction like that.

"Should save a bit of that frosting and decorate you." Was he being serious? Probably not, though he had to admit the idea of getting his mouth on the other man was one that he rather enjoyed.

Oh, he can feel that. He actually gives an aborted whimper; between the motion beneath him and the stroking to his back, his libido is suddenly in overdrive. "Absolutely," he says, although he's lost track of what he's agreeing to for the moment.

His head drops back down to nuzzle into Loki's neck and shoulder again. "Should I let you do that?" He jokes breathlessly, licking. "Wouldn't you draw frosting dicks on my face or something?"

To feel that, to know that he holds that sort of power even with what little he was doing? It was intoxicating in a way. He liked being the source of such reactions, especially in Steve.

"Frosting dicks?" He laughed, a little breathlessly to be sure himself, definitely not unaffected by the sweet sort of affections shared. "Hardly. Maybe I'd draw out some stories. They can get very long and... involved."

And that just meant more to lick clean after which was a big part of the fun.

Steve's eyes widen, because that gives him an insanely vivid mental image. Little, delicate lines of color traced over his skin, and Loki leaning over him smirking and teasing and telling him not to move or he'll mess up the design...

And licking later sounds even better.

At this point, his physical reaction to this kind of contact and talk could not be more obvious, pressed against Loki's thigh. "I could be talked into that," he says, voice a little higher pitched than normal.

Evidently, he's into this idea.

"Could you now?" Not like Loki was surprised, not with the implications his words had all but yelled. Certainly something to remember for later. Right now he had more important things to worry about.

Like how his not-so-innocent moment of stretching had his leg shifting under Steve, nails scraping over skin at the same time. Clearly he wasn't doing this on purpose... right? Surely it was just a coincidence.

Not that the amused glimmer to his gaze agreed with that assumption though.

Steve is blushing deeply now, having displayed a glaring weakness. But this is clearly the night for that kind of thing, and he can't spare much attention to being embarrassed. Not when Loki is going to be doing things like that to him.

He gasps and groans softly, squirming against him like he can't quite help himself. "Are we...unh, god. Are we going further with this? Because if you're gonna do that, I really need to know."

Before Loki can answer, he kisses him on the mouth again, then adds, "I want to give you what you want, though. Whatever you need."

"That's the plan." Loki hummed out in a pleased reply, the hand on Steve's back slipping down again, sliding over the small dimples that muscle made at the small of his back, nails playing against the waistband of his boxers in a considering manner.

The kiss was welcomed, chased after even with the trickster catching Steve's bottom lip in a light nip before releasing him with a grin. "When I said I want you, I wasn't talking about for a rousing round of Scrabble."

His hips jolt against him at the little bite, and Steve makes a little noise of pleasure, grinning back. "...I'm not great at Scrabble, so that's probably for the best."

"Although," he admits, rolling his hips against him more deliberately, "I may be a little out of practice here. Don't worry, I'll catch on quick enough."

He shifts up on one elbow to give himself room to touch him better, stroking down his side with the backs of his fingers. "You're gorgeous, you know that?"

"I have faith that you'll be up to speed in no time." And he also thought that maybe, some other night? Strip Scrabble should somehow be a thing.

But for now he was more than happy to be swept up in the sweet, affectionate sort of pleasure that Steve was offering, squirming languidly under the slide of fingers over skin, a bit of a flush creeping over his cheeks at the compliment. He'd been called as much before, but something about it being Steve paying him that compliment just had it accompanied by a warm wash of delight.

"Flatterer." For all the reply was playfully chiding, he seemed pleased more than anything, fingertips slipping idly under the band of Steve's boxers to play along the skin still hidden under fabric.

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