[ The motion of Loki's hand does not stop, even as he waits for Mobius to present him with some desire he can fulfill, some better understanding of what Mobius has fantasized about. The hand not slowly working Mobius' cock rest first on Loki's thigh and then moves to the other man's, squeezing gently as he speaks.
Whatever answer he expected is not the one he receives. I want to blur our lines...I want to make sure that everything I do with you feels deserved feels like a knife twisting, causing his breath to catch in his chest and his eyes to shut, briefly.
It sounds like love, this thing Mobius describes in his voiced desires, and Loki is both intensely drawn to and terrified by the idea. That someone would love him; that this man, in particular, would. That he would be found worthy of that.
He opens his eyes to meet Mobius', just in time to catch that smirk. ]
It would not be difficult for you to elicit begging from me, [ he states, honestly, quietly. ] but you have to know that by now, how much I want to please you. [ He tilts his face to kiss Mobius' arm. ]
[Maybe, maybe it's what he meant. Because what's he been doing all this time with Loki if not trying to show him that he's worthy of love? Those aren't the words that he uses; it's not I want to love you and be loved in return. But is it, perhaps, close enough?
There is a part of him, still sensible and cognizant of deeper meaning and analysis, that is reeling from the enormity of the implications. The cliff sheer alteration of dynamics from words unbidden.
He's electing to ignore that part, for now.]
Loki.
[Hazy with lust and yet. A deep rumbling of his name, said still with so much affection. Meant with every ounce of affection he has. There's a tipping point between them, and maybe they've long since gone over while he wasn't looking, buried somewhere in the wanting/wanted, the pleasing/pleased. Between rough heavy frantic needing and gentle caring soft longing.
That's just too much thinking, and he's packing that away.]
Get your ass in bed, right now.
sorry I finally got home from traveling and then work hit me like a ton of bricks
In fact, Loki apparently decides that his best way onto the bed is to lean himself into Mobius' space, kissing the other man with his hands on Mobius' shoulders, practically straddling the man until his momentum pressing forward forces Mobius backward and both of them go tumbling onto the bed. He's laughing before he moves to kiss Mobius again, hands on the sides of his face this time. ]
My ass is in bed now, [ he announces, feeling very good about himself and everything in the immediately observable universe, ] and so is yours.
[It takes a moment for him to catch up to what's happening as it's happening, until he makes an undignified noise and topples over, and Loki on top of him, which...is just as nice a view as him down on his knees.
Loki's just a nice view all around. And a nice feel. He's pretty sure, if they really focused on it, he could probably get off just by kissing Loki alone. As it is, his hands travel down Loki's back until he's got said ass firmly in hand, and gives it another resounding slap.]
You think you're so clever. [And he is. He can feel Loki's cock pressed against him, too, which is just super distracting. Especially when paired with another smack.] Got me right where you want me, huh? [And one more, because good things come in threes, before kneading the skin and muscle. It's a good ass. Needs a little attention.] All at your mercy. [Not at all the case. Not the point. When he kisses Loki next, it's at equal measure to his hands, rough and biting and sharp and needing.] What clever trick are you gonna pull next?
[ Loki smirks a little wider each time Mobius slaps him on the ass, breathing heavily into his kisses. Those kisses? Delicious. Ass slaps? Wonderful. Even Mobius' taunting is appealing because they are mostly compliments and also because he can draw his hips across Mobius' and feel the lovely friction that movement causes. ] I know I'm oh-so-clever, thank you very much. [ He bites Mobius' bottom lip this time, flicking his tongue across it in the next moment. ] For my next trick I'm going to convince you to let me ride your cock until you come, unless you've got some better or more pressing idea.
[Mobius groans, flushed at the friction and the suggestion of something even better.] Someone's in a giving mood. Must be my birthday. [Regardless of the fact that he's not sure he technically has one, ignoring that detail.] Normally I'd be all for it, but you did forget one thing.
[Loki will be able to feel him bracing one moment, and then find himself flipped over the next, with Mobius grinning above him.] You asked me what I want, and I'm gonna get what I want. Give me your hands.
[It's hard to resist staying right here and get it all over with. He's thinking maybe less foreplay next time and straight to it, less savoring and more doing. But that's next time. This time is for exploring and learning and, yes, savoring.
The belt will come in handy. He winds it around Loki's wrists until it's snug in place enough not to fall off at a glance. Still hardly the most secure binding, easy enough for someone like Loki to get out of if he really wants to. There's no headboard to attach anything to, so Mobius just gently moves those wrists up above Loki's head with the implication that they should stay right there. He presses kisses the god's jaw, nips at an earlobe.] No touching.
[Which is truly a shame, given those hands, but that's also the point. Drive him absolutely wild. And then there can be all the riding he wants.
As it is, he can look at Loki all long and lean and muscled and his and admire the blend of form and function. Run his fingers lightly down Loki's body, first, and again back up, taking in the peaks and valleys of bone and muscle and skin. Reverent. The next time they traverse along that body, it's with the addition of nails scratching along. It has occurred to Mobius that Loki is very eager to please his partners, that while he has his desires, his focus is not on his own physical needs. When he kisses down the length of Loki's torso, nails making their way over hips and traversing down thighs, he thinks of how that kind of service feels like a desperate attempt to be liked, to do what is wanted for the chance that he'll be seen as useful and desired. It's the kind of thinking that can threaten to ruin a good time, the way he turns it over in his mind. When's the last time someone took time for Loki? When's the last time Loki let someone take the time for him?]
We could decide today is your birthday. [ A hum of consideration. ] Or mine, for that matter.
[ Loki is very pleased when Mobius flips them over, nostrils flaring and mouth breaking out into a grin. He likes these hidden shows of strength from his friend, likes it when things take an unexpected turn. His hands he gives over easily, remembering the earlier promise Mobius made about not allowing him to touch; his breath comes out a little sharp at the tightening of the belt around his wrists. ]
You know, I could teach you very good knots with some lengths of rope.
[ The kind that would be difficult even for him to break free of, should it be necessary, bereft of his magic as he is here. Besides, Mobius told him not to touch; as his arms go above his head he takes a settling breath, but he wasn't told not to speak. That would be more difficult anyway.
He laces his fingers together to remind himself to keep them still, green eyes watching Mobius darkly. The light touch is its own unique sort of hell, the reverence with which Mobius continues on a suffering. He is not a creature made for understanding gentleness, especially directed at himself, and yet... he can't be too upset that this is the way that Mobius continues onward.
Granted, he's thankful for the slight sting of his nails against Loki's skin at the next series of touches. He tries very hard to keep his hips still, to not rise his entire body off the bed to chase that sensation. It mostly works, but then Mobius has gone quiet in his contemplation and if there's something Loki's mind cannot abide by, it is silence.
(To answer the unasked question, it has been ages. Once Loki learned what pain could do for him, and what causing pain to someone as pretty as he is does for others, he never looked back.) ]
What are you thinking? [ He asks quietly, because he's not sure of what the answer will be. ]
[He's sure Loki could teach him a great many things. Part of it is just using what's on hand without getting fancy, sure. Another is the knowledge that he doesn't know where the boundaries are. For as mouthy as Loki is, he can't be sure the guy'll speak up if he's not a fan of something. Maybe there isn't something like going too far with Loki, but there's going too far for Mobius, and maybe erring on the side of caution is better.
Yes, fuck yes he wants to blur their lines together. It just might be prudent to know where all the lines are first. They trust each other, of course. To an extent. Maybe that's not actually wise.
Loki asks him a question, and he merely hums in response, at first. Contemplates returning the favor of Loki's mouth earlier as an answer, instead nips along the curve and dip of a hip. What's he thinking? How to start with that.] I'm thinking about you. [Spoken against hot skin, not a lie in any technical sense of the word.] About other people you've been with. [That's a little bit more honest. His hands are softer, skimming back up Loki's thighs. Until he pushes himself back up to sitting, observing. There's a method to his madness, fingers sliding further up, drifting along Loki's cock. Enough to feel, and not near enough to be satisfying.]
[ The bite is nice, but not enough; Loki knows that a lot of holding his control in check will be by virtue of being told he can't touch and wanting to be successful in that endeavor, but he does whine a little, shifting his hips down into the bed as if he's attempting to escape the warm wetness of Mobius' mouth, the startling softness of that bite.
I'm thinking about you rings true, and Loki finds he'd let his eyes close and opens them to witness Mobius watching him. He's not ashamed of the number of people he's been with, or what he's managed to get up to over the centuries, but he does wonder what this man thinks of the things he knows. It's terrifying, to have someone know you and your past so thoroughly, and to know so little about them in return. ]
Not particularly, [ he admits, and perhaps he shouldn't feel ashamed but he does, a little, because Mobius is trying to be nice and gentle and Loki near to can't stand it. ] It's very... [ He closes his eyes and hopes that will help him articulate his thoughts in a way that doesn't sound desperate for validation in his own ears, but that's probably a lost cause. Much like the wet tear that rolls down his cheek as Mobius touches his cock. It's maddening, is what it is; he's going to emotionally fall apart beneath this man's touch. ] It's not what I'm used to, and I don't know what to do with softness like this.
[Number of people doesn't matter. Matters a little more to him what they do, how they've treated Loki before. And sure, it's perfectly valid to find pain very erotic, no problem with masochism as a kink, not an ounce of judgement if it's genuine. But is it just because that's how others treated him, used him? Is it because it's a defense, because Loki's self-worth has historically been so low he caught the god with a shovel in hand down a hole, before helping him out, before Sylvie came into the picture?
Should he even be allowed to think these questions? To examine him from all these angles instead of taking his partner at his word and enjoying it all?
Mobius does not want to be like anyone else Loki's been with.
And maybe that's a problem, too. Maybe that's selfish, greedy, unrealistic. He's thinking too much. He's got a handsome man at his mercy, dick in hand, and he's thinking too much, what the fuck. And then there's that lone quiet tear glinting on Loki's face, and that's it. He can't not, can't stop himself and wouldn't if he could from leaning back in over him, kissing it away.]
Enjoy it, usually. But I'll be rough with you if you want. If you really want it. Bite your thighs like I'm starving, jerk you hard with no lube, dig in my nails until I draw blood, leave bruises on your bruises. [He's still touching Loki, the whole time, with the same tender rocking up and down. If Mobius were as clever as a trickster god, he'd claim all of this was deliberate, just part of the sexy torture.] I'll do whatever you want me to.
[ He lets out a breath, shaky and uncertain. What does he want? He wants Mobius to care about him, to care for him, to feel his touch and not feel like he's going to fall the fuck apart as a result, in a way that isn't just from orgasming.
He feels weak. Weak and exposed in a way that he'd have sworn he was years, centuries removed from. He wants to curl up in Mobius' arms and hide. ]
Can we... [ He breathes out, opens his eyes, focuses on the ceiling, frowns. Refocuses on Mobius' face just as his hand shifts on Loki's cock from an upward stroke to a downward one and lets out a thin, high whine as his nervous system reminds him that there is more than just his emotional turbulence going on at the moment. ] Can we meet somewhere in the middle? [ He thinks that's what he wants. To experience Mobius' softness directed at him but still have the bruises and marks he's so familiar with. To go between both until he can't tolerate either anymore. ]
Yeah. I think we can do that, easy. [In a way, it's the go ahead to keep doing as he's been doing, the flashes of pain and the gentle come down from it. Mobius reaches over Loki to a bedside stand, rummaging until he's got lube in hand.] And you can be as mouthy as you always are. You haven't been shy about letting me know how you feel, and now's not the time to start.
[Permission, in a way. If it becomes too much, or if his ministrations are not enough, if the wants on the table change. Loki's used to pleasing, and Mobius wants to make sure he gets used to being pleased, too. There are a handful of moments where Mobius stops touching him entirely, to shift position, to warm slickness on his fingers. Funny, he thinks, that he has considered Loki on several occasions with the idea of I want to wreck the old you and build up something better, and he had never considered that it might apply to the bedroom, too.
The hand returns to Loki's cock, more eager to touch him just how he needs. His other hand takes Loki by a knee, presses his leg wide open. Kisses along the inside of his thigh a few times before sinking his teeth in hard, suckling the skin between and aiming to give him some of those marks he wants so much. Treading down the middle, gentle and rough.]
That's easy enough for you to say; you're not the one feeling like he's being pulled apart by kindness, [ Loki huffs in response, but, he knows it's fair. If he says nothing at all then how will Mobius know what he wants? What he likes and what he can't tolerate?
There's an exhalation of breath and a slight whine when Mobius isn't touching him at all; it takes a lot of control not to move his hands in those moments, craving the return of Mobius' touch so badly it makes him shake a little. ]
Not being able to touch you is some new kind of Hel, [ comes the announcement just as Mobius touches him again. He just wants to grip the other man, to have something to do other than just lay there and take it, when 'taking it' doesn't involve completely burying himself in overwhelming sensation. Not that what Mobius is doing isn't overwhelming, exactly, but Loki is very present for this in a way that he isn't, usually, by the time someone else is touching him.
A strange realization for almost the exact moment that Mobius sinks his teeth into Loki's flesh but it's so good, has him lifting his hips and letting out a high, needy noise, hands reaching for nothing above his head. ] But I suppose that's at least half the point.
[There. That's so much more expected, so much more normal, rather than the titanic shift in their dynamic. Loki will get pulled apart by whatever Mobius gives him, that's fine, so long as Loki keeps talking through it (and failing that, making those noises that make his own cock jump). It makes him feel more at ease, settling into this pain/pleasure rough/soft that they're playing with.
Enough that he laughs against a newly forming bruise.] Call it three-quarters of the point, yeah. You're gonna be here, and you're gonna take it, until you can't take it anymore.
[He flits his thumb over the head of Loki's cock as he sets to work making several more of that same kind of bruise. It'll be prettier in sets, he thinks. Symmetry. Order out of chaos.]
What's the remaining quarter, then? Am I to guess? [ Loki tries to hum through his consideration but it comes out more like a moan by the time Mobius has worked another bruise into his skin. That brief touch to the head of his cock did not go unnoticed, either; he's hard enough that even something as light as that causes him to ache. ]
You like me, for some reason, [ as if he isn't desperate to keep this friendship and the new sexual aspect that he desperately hopes will continue after tonight. ] You said that you wanted everything you do... to me? With me? To feel like it was deserved. [ Even the gentleness. What a terrifying prospect. His breath hitches, a little ahahha escaping from between his mouth as Loki presses his fingers tight against one another.
He bites down on his lower lip, frowning. Mobius likes him enough that he would lavish him with kindness as a method of driving him insane.
[He lets Loki keep talking as he methodically works in those bruises, a bright and angry color that he knows will resolve itself into deeply satisfying blues and purples. Hums pleasantly against one just to let him know he's listening.
When he pulls back enough to look at his work, and to just look at Loki (and maybe it will invite him to question again, that pondering about what Mobius is thinking, it's a risk he'll have to take), he changes things up just to catch the god off guard. The steady and languorous pace of his hand ramps up with no warning into something frenetic, with a little twist to his wrist. Less a kindness, now, but that's the point. Get him worked up and overwhelmed, and then back down, like the drops and climbs of a rollercoaster. His other hand holds him down by the hip, hard, hard enough he wonders if that, too, might leave a few faint bruises.
Has to wonder a lot of things. He can give all the rough handling Loki needs, he's pretty sure. Might have it in him to draw blood, if that's really necessary. Could put a hand around his neck and simply press his thumb into the divot of his throat. (Could but...no, he's going to discard that idea entirely. He's seen too much of Loki's life, and the end of it, to get any enjoyment out such a thing.) This, right here, is perhaps just enough torture for them both right now. If Mobius seems calm and steady, then the way his breath comes in heavy puffs betrays it. Loki is so god damn handsome that it's still dizzying to him that he's the one Loki chose.]
Those are the words I said, yeah. [And he meant it. If Loki's got a question about it, he's free to attempt to articulate it, if he can. Mobius might like to see him try.]
[ He had a question. It was a well-thought-out one, couched in some turn of phrase that would make him sound (and perhaps feel, but that part is doubtful) less desperate for an answer. Or at least he thought so before Mobius changed the way he was touching him, and then he didn't think anything for a series of concurrent moments.
Later, oh, later he'll have to tell this man just how good at this he is. How he drives Loki mad, uncertain if he wants more or less of what he's receiving. Wrap his arms around him and bury his face in Mobius' neck and stay there for a while. For now, there's no such recourse; he can't hide his face or busy his hands, so all he can do is gasp and writhe, shutting his eyes and wondering if Mobius intends to make him orgasm just like this.
Probably, yeah? That seems like a reasonable expectation, but Mobius keeps surprising him, so perhaps he should just let expectations go. ]
Why? [ Eventually is wrung out of him, and it could mean so many things, he knows, and so Loki takes a breath and opens his eyes (which is a mistake, kind of β the way Mobius is watching him threatens to unmake him on the spot). His voice comes out shaky and uncertain as he rapidly approaches an edge and isn't sure if he should brace for impact or an abrupt change. ] Why do you like me?
[There's a special kind of torture in this for Loki, he knows. Why Mobius wanted him laid so bare and with nothing to busy his hands with. He gets to see Loki. Drink in his every reaction. Hide nothing.
He wasn't necessarily planning on letting Loki go right off the edge, but he's learning so much like this. Easy to derail his thoughts, not so easy to keep them derailed.
The question arrives, and it's definitely abrupt change to brace for. Wholly unintended, in fact, because it's so blunt and earnest and nearly choking and, and, Mobius is not sure why he didn't expect it. But he didn't see it coming, blindsiding him, and his hand just stops. Like his whole being is suspended for several moments, his own train of thought not just derailing but bodily shoved off a steep cliff into angry waters. And exploding halfway down. On fire. Why?
He has to ask that now?
And how does he even being to answer that?
His brows furrow as he sits back on his heels, hands lightly settling lightly along Loki's legs. A tongue darts out to wet his lips, looks like he's about to say something, doesn't.
It's a fair question. Damned inconvenient timing, but it's not a question he can just brush off or give a joke answer to. It isn't even fair of Mobius to return the question. Sex (and maybe more) is a bit of a surprise when a former prince of Asgard could have anyone he wanted, but he could see why Loki likes him. The way he challenges the thinking of a god, to get him to reevaluate himself. Giving him a chance where no one else would. The rapport was easy once they were over the hurdles of trying to escape.
He's had a certain fascination with Lokis since his first Loki variant came across his desk. This one is different from all the others in a way that's difficult to define.]
You're not the person you make yourself out to be. [There, he'll start there.] You're not even the person you've got everyone else convinced you are. People look at you, and they see a cold-hearted, ruthless killer. They see madness and hate and endless ambition.
I don't. And yeah, I've got the benefit of having seen the events of the sacred version of your life play out a hundred times, and you don't deserve any of the awful shit that's supposed to happen to you. I see someone who got hurt and then built up so many defenses so he wouldn't get hurt again. And you know who I see beyond that? Someone charming, funny, smart--though not nearly as smart as he thinks he is. Too clever by way more than half. Someone with a heart. Who just needs to be given a chance to dig that heart out from all the ice and rubble and pain and hurt.
Can you be an infuriating little asshole, sure, but...I like having you around. You push me in ways I didn't think I could be pushed; you add...chaos into my life that I didn't realize I could actually enjoy. You care, even when you think you're hiding it from people, and when you do, you light up a room. Loki, when you're at your best, you're incandescent, and I don't know how everyone else isn't blinded by you.
It's not even framed in a way he expects; Mobius talks about the various things he sees within Loki and Loki suddenly wonders if it all isn't too much. What he'll do, if he fails to meet Mobius' expectations of him in the future, before he remembers that he actually has a sense of what will happen. More or less. Mobius will be disappointed (rightfully, perhaps) and will say something that cuts Loki to the quick and Loki will be disappointed with himself (somewhat) but probably non-apologetic and will say something back to Mobius that is meant to hurt and distance himself from his friend because he's feeling particularly hurt and distanced from Mobius to begin with and... and... and...
And Mobius will continue being his friend. He won't abandon him because it became messy or complicated. He won't turn his back just because Loki did something more common, more comfortable, than what Mobius thinks was the right thing to do. They'll talk, they'll text, and they'll talk again, and they'll end up in bed together if Loki is fortunate.
It's a lot to realize in conjunction with Mobius' description of who he is, of what his friend sees in him. He looks at Mobius until he can't stand it anymore, screwing his eyes shut and pressing his face to the inside of his arm.
Still not touching, fingers still interlaced with each other. His face is starting to grow wet with tears he can't control, and Loki takes another shaky breath before opening his eyes again. ]
I would like a kiss, [ he announces to the room, perhaps a little petulant before refocusing his eyes and his attention on Mobius. He feels like he deserves at least one at this rate.
But if Mobius were to touch him and not kiss him immediately, he wouldn't exactly mind that either. ]
[It's funny for the fact that Mobius is worried he's not enough. That his little impromptu speech isn't going to cut it, that he needs to dig deeper and find just the right words. That in this state maybe he can't articulate it properly. It's a tricky thing, breaking someone down and building them back up. More so when in the middle of bedroom activities. It hasn't ruined the mood by any means, just altered the feeling of it.
The request makes him huff out a low chuckle.] Okay. You can have a kiss.
[Loki can have as many kisses as he wants. Mobius starts slow and low, leaving a trail of gentle kisses up Loki's body, leaving behind all unkindness at least for the moment. Braces an arm up by Loki's head when he works his way up to neck, jaw, and by the time he reaches Loki's mouth, his other arm reaches up to the belt, tugs to get it undone, to slide it from Loki's wrists. Touching is on the menu again. This has been a fun experiment, if emotionally turbulent, but he thinks it's about time they be back on a more even level.]
[ When Mobius unfastens his wrists, Loki revels in reaching out, wrapping his arms around the other man's neck and holding him close. He kisses back with abandon, sighing into it, biting at Mobius' lips and pushing his fingers through Mobius' hair from the base of his neck upwards.
Mobius could stand to look a little mussed after all of that.
His legs shift to allow Mobius to lay between them, gasping gently at the friction this provides. ]
Thank you. [ Because he does have manners, at times. ] Are you going to fuck me now? [ He asks, smirking into Mobius' kisses. ]
[Somehow this is just all the better. After all that. Get all the heavy emotional baggage stowed somewhere, and then so much touching, enthusiastic kissing, yeah, yeah sometimes patience pays off big time.]
Seem to recall you had a certain desire to ride the hell out of me. [There is very little that sounds better right now, honestly.] Still up for that? I'm up for that. I'm very up for that. [See, because he's still definitely hard, he's up--
A hand gropes for the lube. There you are...] I mean, I didn't get the begging I was hoping for, but I'll just have to work harder for it next time.
[Next time. There'd better be a next time. There better be several next times.]
Still up for that, [ Loki nods enthusiastically. ] Definitely, still up for that, yes. [ He leans up, into Mobius' space, keeping his arms around the other man's neck and grinning. ]
Next time. I like the sound of that.
[ Is he going to keep leaning in and flip Mobius over? Yes, apparently, and without much by way of warning. ]
[That's fair, that's very fair of him to turn the flipping tables (flip the tables?) like that. He laughs, a little breathless, at the sheer shared enthusiasm to maybe finally get the weird emotions they can talk further about later out of the way and really just have the kind of fun they've been craving for--all evening, for one thing, but longer in actuality. A while longer. Quite a while longer, at least for Mobius, if he's honest, if he's really truly honest with himself.]
Me too. Hey, I'm gonna try to not be too gentle, okay? [Normally he might go about this slow and steady and sure as ever, but the mix of need and Loki's general desire for...not-gentle means he's willing to play it fast and loose when he makes to work a slicked up finger in, two. His other hand trails up Loki's neck, back for a fistful of hair, to keep him close, to keep him right here. For a second all he can think of is work your Loki, puffing another laugh against Loki's skin.]
Good, [ is Loki's response to that, more than ready to allow his brain the space to create some white noise instead of spiraling out and worrying that Mobius doesn't like him or something else similar and possibly equally ridiculous. He wants his body to remember this, wants it to be sore in the morning from the shape and weight of Mobius inside of him. His back arches as he kneels above Mobius, reveling in being held fast by his hair.
It's perfect, really, and there's still more to come. ]
Tell me, [ He gasps out, pulling against Mobius' hold just to test it a little, rocks his hips back into the fingers inside of him. ]Please, Mobius.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Just keep fucking Loki up why don't you
Whatever answer he expected is not the one he receives. I want to blur our lines...I want to make sure that everything I do with you feels deserved feels like a knife twisting, causing his breath to catch in his chest and his eyes to shut, briefly.
It sounds like love, this thing Mobius describes in his voiced desires, and Loki is both intensely drawn to and terrified by the idea. That someone would love him; that this man, in particular, would. That he would be found worthy of that.
He opens his eyes to meet Mobius', just in time to catch that smirk. ]
It would not be difficult for you to elicit begging from me, [ he states, honestly, quietly. ] but you have to know that by now, how much I want to please you. [ He tilts his face to kiss Mobius' arm. ]
no subject
There is a part of him, still sensible and cognizant of deeper meaning and analysis, that is reeling from the enormity of the implications. The cliff sheer alteration of dynamics from words unbidden.
He's electing to ignore that part, for now.]
Loki.
[Hazy with lust and yet. A deep rumbling of his name, said still with so much affection. Meant with every ounce of affection he has. There's a tipping point between them, and maybe they've long since gone over while he wasn't looking, buried somewhere in the wanting/wanted, the pleasing/pleased. Between rough heavy frantic needing and gentle caring soft longing.
That's just too much thinking, and he's packing that away.]
Get your ass in bed, right now.
sorry I finally got home from traveling and then work hit me like a ton of bricks
In fact, Loki apparently decides that his best way onto the bed is to lean himself into Mobius' space, kissing the other man with his hands on Mobius' shoulders, practically straddling the man until his momentum pressing forward forces Mobius backward and both of them go tumbling onto the bed. He's laughing before he moves to kiss Mobius again, hands on the sides of his face this time. ]
My ass is in bed now, [ he announces, feeling very good about himself and everything in the immediately observable universe, ] and so is yours.
np! life happens
Loki's just a nice view all around. And a nice feel. He's pretty sure, if they really focused on it, he could probably get off just by kissing Loki alone. As it is, his hands travel down Loki's back until he's got said ass firmly in hand, and gives it another resounding slap.]
You think you're so clever. [And he is. He can feel Loki's cock pressed against him, too, which is just super distracting. Especially when paired with another smack.] Got me right where you want me, huh? [And one more, because good things come in threes, before kneading the skin and muscle. It's a good ass. Needs a little attention.] All at your mercy. [Not at all the case. Not the point. When he kisses Loki next, it's at equal measure to his hands, rough and biting and sharp and needing.] What clever trick are you gonna pull next?
no subject
no subject
[Loki will be able to feel him bracing one moment, and then find himself flipped over the next, with Mobius grinning above him.] You asked me what I want, and I'm gonna get what I want. Give me your hands.
[It's hard to resist staying right here and get it all over with. He's thinking maybe less foreplay next time and straight to it, less savoring and more doing. But that's next time. This time is for exploring and learning and, yes, savoring.
The belt will come in handy. He winds it around Loki's wrists until it's snug in place enough not to fall off at a glance. Still hardly the most secure binding, easy enough for someone like Loki to get out of if he really wants to. There's no headboard to attach anything to, so Mobius just gently moves those wrists up above Loki's head with the implication that they should stay right there. He presses kisses the god's jaw, nips at an earlobe.] No touching.
[Which is truly a shame, given those hands, but that's also the point. Drive him absolutely wild. And then there can be all the riding he wants.
As it is, he can look at Loki all long and lean and muscled and his and admire the blend of form and function. Run his fingers lightly down Loki's body, first, and again back up, taking in the peaks and valleys of bone and muscle and skin. Reverent. The next time they traverse along that body, it's with the addition of nails scratching along. It has occurred to Mobius that Loki is very eager to please his partners, that while he has his desires, his focus is not on his own physical needs. When he kisses down the length of Loki's torso, nails making their way over hips and traversing down thighs, he thinks of how that kind of service feels like a desperate attempt to be liked, to do what is wanted for the chance that he'll be seen as useful and desired. It's the kind of thinking that can threaten to ruin a good time, the way he turns it over in his mind. When's the last time someone took time for Loki? When's the last time Loki let someone take the time for him?]
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[ Loki is very pleased when Mobius flips them over, nostrils flaring and mouth breaking out into a grin. He likes these hidden shows of strength from his friend, likes it when things take an unexpected turn. His hands he gives over easily, remembering the earlier promise Mobius made about not allowing him to touch; his breath comes out a little sharp at the tightening of the belt around his wrists. ]
You know, I could teach you very good knots with some lengths of rope.
[ The kind that would be difficult even for him to break free of, should it be necessary, bereft of his magic as he is here. Besides, Mobius told him not to touch; as his arms go above his head he takes a settling breath, but he wasn't told not to speak. That would be more difficult anyway.
He laces his fingers together to remind himself to keep them still, green eyes watching Mobius darkly. The light touch is its own unique sort of hell, the reverence with which Mobius continues on a suffering. He is not a creature made for understanding gentleness, especially directed at himself, and yet... he can't be too upset that this is the way that Mobius continues onward.
Granted, he's thankful for the slight sting of his nails against Loki's skin at the next series of touches. He tries very hard to keep his hips still, to not rise his entire body off the bed to chase that sensation. It mostly works, but then Mobius has gone quiet in his contemplation and if there's something Loki's mind cannot abide by, it is silence.
(To answer the unasked question, it has been ages. Once Loki learned what pain could do for him, and what causing pain to someone as pretty as he is does for others, he never looked back.) ]
What are you thinking? [ He asks quietly, because he's not sure of what the answer will be. ]
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Yes, fuck yes he wants to blur their lines together. It just might be prudent to know where all the lines are first. They trust each other, of course. To an extent. Maybe that's not actually wise.
Loki asks him a question, and he merely hums in response, at first. Contemplates returning the favor of Loki's mouth earlier as an answer, instead nips along the curve and dip of a hip. What's he thinking? How to start with that.] I'm thinking about you. [Spoken against hot skin, not a lie in any technical sense of the word.] About other people you've been with. [That's a little bit more honest. His hands are softer, skimming back up Loki's thighs. Until he pushes himself back up to sitting, observing. There's a method to his madness, fingers sliding further up, drifting along Loki's cock. Enough to feel, and not near enough to be satisfying.]
You don't want me to be gentle, do you?
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I'm thinking about you rings true, and Loki finds he'd let his eyes close and opens them to witness Mobius watching him. He's not ashamed of the number of people he's been with, or what he's managed to get up to over the centuries, but he does wonder what this man thinks of the things he knows. It's terrifying, to have someone know you and your past so thoroughly, and to know so little about them in return. ]
Not particularly, [ he admits, and perhaps he shouldn't feel ashamed but he does, a little, because Mobius is trying to be nice and gentle and Loki near to can't stand it. ] It's very... [ He closes his eyes and hopes that will help him articulate his thoughts in a way that doesn't sound desperate for validation in his own ears, but that's probably a lost cause. Much like the wet tear that rolls down his cheek as Mobius touches his cock. It's maddening, is what it is; he's going to emotionally fall apart beneath this man's touch. ] It's not what I'm used to, and I don't know what to do with softness like this.
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Should he even be allowed to think these questions? To examine him from all these angles instead of taking his partner at his word and enjoying it all?
Mobius does not want to be like anyone else Loki's been with.
And maybe that's a problem, too. Maybe that's selfish, greedy, unrealistic. He's thinking too much. He's got a handsome man at his mercy, dick in hand, and he's thinking too much, what the fuck. And then there's that lone quiet tear glinting on Loki's face, and that's it. He can't not, can't stop himself and wouldn't if he could from leaning back in over him, kissing it away.]
Enjoy it, usually. But I'll be rough with you if you want. If you really want it. Bite your thighs like I'm starving, jerk you hard with no lube, dig in my nails until I draw blood, leave bruises on your bruises. [He's still touching Loki, the whole time, with the same tender rocking up and down. If Mobius were as clever as a trickster god, he'd claim all of this was deliberate, just part of the sexy torture.] I'll do whatever you want me to.
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He feels weak. Weak and exposed in a way that he'd have sworn he was years, centuries removed from. He wants to curl up in Mobius' arms and hide. ]
Can we... [ He breathes out, opens his eyes, focuses on the ceiling, frowns. Refocuses on Mobius' face just as his hand shifts on Loki's cock from an upward stroke to a downward one and lets out a thin, high whine as his nervous system reminds him that there is more than just his emotional turbulence going on at the moment. ] Can we meet somewhere in the middle? [ He thinks that's what he wants. To experience Mobius' softness directed at him but still have the bruises and marks he's so familiar with. To go between both until he can't tolerate either anymore. ]
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[Permission, in a way. If it becomes too much, or if his ministrations are not enough, if the wants on the table change. Loki's used to pleasing, and Mobius wants to make sure he gets used to being pleased, too. There are a handful of moments where Mobius stops touching him entirely, to shift position, to warm slickness on his fingers. Funny, he thinks, that he has considered Loki on several occasions with the idea of I want to wreck the old you and build up something better, and he had never considered that it might apply to the bedroom, too.
The hand returns to Loki's cock, more eager to touch him just how he needs. His other hand takes Loki by a knee, presses his leg wide open. Kisses along the inside of his thigh a few times before sinking his teeth in hard, suckling the skin between and aiming to give him some of those marks he wants so much. Treading down the middle, gentle and rough.]
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There's an exhalation of breath and a slight whine when Mobius isn't touching him at all; it takes a lot of control not to move his hands in those moments, craving the return of Mobius' touch so badly it makes him shake a little. ]
Not being able to touch you is some new kind of Hel, [ comes the announcement just as Mobius touches him again. He just wants to grip the other man, to have something to do other than just lay there and take it, when 'taking it' doesn't involve completely burying himself in overwhelming sensation. Not that what Mobius is doing isn't overwhelming, exactly, but Loki is very present for this in a way that he isn't, usually, by the time someone else is touching him.
A strange realization for almost the exact moment that Mobius sinks his teeth into Loki's flesh but it's so good, has him lifting his hips and letting out a high, needy noise, hands reaching for nothing above his head. ] But I suppose that's at least half the point.
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Enough that he laughs against a newly forming bruise.] Call it three-quarters of the point, yeah. You're gonna be here, and you're gonna take it, until you can't take it anymore.
[He flits his thumb over the head of Loki's cock as he sets to work making several more of that same kind of bruise. It'll be prettier in sets, he thinks. Symmetry. Order out of chaos.]
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You like me, for some reason, [ as if he isn't desperate to keep this friendship and the new sexual aspect that he desperately hopes will continue after tonight. ] You said that you wanted everything you do... to me? With me? To feel like it was deserved. [ Even the gentleness. What a terrifying prospect. His breath hitches, a little ahahha escaping from between his mouth as Loki presses his fingers tight against one another.
He bites down on his lower lip, frowning. Mobius likes him enough that he would lavish him with kindness as a method of driving him insane.
That's it's own sort of crazy. ]
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When he pulls back enough to look at his work, and to just look at Loki (and maybe it will invite him to question again, that pondering about what Mobius is thinking, it's a risk he'll have to take), he changes things up just to catch the god off guard. The steady and languorous pace of his hand ramps up with no warning into something frenetic, with a little twist to his wrist. Less a kindness, now, but that's the point. Get him worked up and overwhelmed, and then back down, like the drops and climbs of a rollercoaster. His other hand holds him down by the hip, hard, hard enough he wonders if that, too, might leave a few faint bruises.
Has to wonder a lot of things. He can give all the rough handling Loki needs, he's pretty sure. Might have it in him to draw blood, if that's really necessary. Could put a hand around his neck and simply press his thumb into the divot of his throat. (Could but...no, he's going to discard that idea entirely. He's seen too much of Loki's life, and the end of it, to get any enjoyment out such a thing.) This, right here, is perhaps just enough torture for them both right now. If Mobius seems calm and steady, then the way his breath comes in heavy puffs betrays it. Loki is so god damn handsome that it's still dizzying to him that he's the one Loki chose.]
Those are the words I said, yeah. [And he meant it. If Loki's got a question about it, he's free to attempt to articulate it, if he can. Mobius might like to see him try.]
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Later, oh, later he'll have to tell this man just how good at this he is. How he drives Loki mad, uncertain if he wants more or less of what he's receiving. Wrap his arms around him and bury his face in Mobius' neck and stay there for a while. For now, there's no such recourse; he can't hide his face or busy his hands, so all he can do is gasp and writhe, shutting his eyes and wondering if Mobius intends to make him orgasm just like this.
Probably, yeah? That seems like a reasonable expectation, but Mobius keeps surprising him, so perhaps he should just let expectations go. ]
Why? [ Eventually is wrung out of him, and it could mean so many things, he knows, and so Loki takes a breath and opens his eyes (which is a mistake, kind of β the way Mobius is watching him threatens to unmake him on the spot). His voice comes out shaky and uncertain as he rapidly approaches an edge and isn't sure if he should brace for impact or an abrupt change. ] Why do you like me?
[ Ah. The crux of the matter. ]
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He wasn't necessarily planning on letting Loki go right off the edge, but he's learning so much like this. Easy to derail his thoughts, not so easy to keep them derailed.
The question arrives, and it's definitely abrupt change to brace for. Wholly unintended, in fact, because it's so blunt and earnest and nearly choking and, and, Mobius is not sure why he didn't expect it. But he didn't see it coming, blindsiding him, and his hand just stops. Like his whole being is suspended for several moments, his own train of thought not just derailing but bodily shoved off a steep cliff into angry waters. And exploding halfway down. On fire. Why?
He has to ask that now?
And how does he even being to answer that?
His brows furrow as he sits back on his heels, hands lightly settling lightly along Loki's legs. A tongue darts out to wet his lips, looks like he's about to say something, doesn't.
It's a fair question. Damned inconvenient timing, but it's not a question he can just brush off or give a joke answer to. It isn't even fair of Mobius to return the question. Sex (and maybe more) is a bit of a surprise when a former prince of Asgard could have anyone he wanted, but he could see why Loki likes him. The way he challenges the thinking of a god, to get him to reevaluate himself. Giving him a chance where no one else would. The rapport was easy once they were over the hurdles of trying to escape.
He's had a certain fascination with Lokis since his first Loki variant came across his desk. This one is different from all the others in a way that's difficult to define.]
You're not the person you make yourself out to be. [There, he'll start there.] You're not even the person you've got everyone else convinced you are. People look at you, and they see a cold-hearted, ruthless killer. They see madness and hate and endless ambition.
I don't. And yeah, I've got the benefit of having seen the events of the sacred version of your life play out a hundred times, and you don't deserve any of the awful shit that's supposed to happen to you. I see someone who got hurt and then built up so many defenses so he wouldn't get hurt again. And you know who I see beyond that? Someone charming, funny, smart--though not nearly as smart as he thinks he is. Too clever by way more than half. Someone with a heart. Who just needs to be given a chance to dig that heart out from all the ice and rubble and pain and hurt.
Can you be an infuriating little asshole, sure, but...I like having you around. You push me in ways I didn't think I could be pushed; you add...chaos into my life that I didn't realize I could actually enjoy. You care, even when you think you're hiding it from people, and when you do, you light up a room. Loki, when you're at your best, you're incandescent, and I don't know how everyone else isn't blinded by you.
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It's not even framed in a way he expects; Mobius talks about the various things he sees within Loki and Loki suddenly wonders if it all isn't too much. What he'll do, if he fails to meet Mobius' expectations of him in the future, before he remembers that he actually has a sense of what will happen. More or less. Mobius will be disappointed (rightfully, perhaps) and will say something that cuts Loki to the quick and Loki will be disappointed with himself (somewhat) but probably non-apologetic and will say something back to Mobius that is meant to hurt and distance himself from his friend because he's feeling particularly hurt and distanced from Mobius to begin with and... and... and...
And Mobius will continue being his friend. He won't abandon him because it became messy or complicated. He won't turn his back just because Loki did something more common, more comfortable, than what Mobius thinks was the right thing to do. They'll talk, they'll text, and they'll talk again, and they'll end up in bed together if Loki is fortunate.
It's a lot to realize in conjunction with Mobius' description of who he is, of what his friend sees in him. He looks at Mobius until he can't stand it anymore, screwing his eyes shut and pressing his face to the inside of his arm.
Still not touching, fingers still interlaced with each other. His face is starting to grow wet with tears he can't control, and Loki takes another shaky breath before opening his eyes again. ]
I would like a kiss, [ he announces to the room, perhaps a little petulant before refocusing his eyes and his attention on Mobius. He feels like he deserves at least one at this rate.
But if Mobius were to touch him and not kiss him immediately, he wouldn't exactly mind that either. ]
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The request makes him huff out a low chuckle.] Okay. You can have a kiss.
[Loki can have as many kisses as he wants. Mobius starts slow and low, leaving a trail of gentle kisses up Loki's body, leaving behind all unkindness at least for the moment. Braces an arm up by Loki's head when he works his way up to neck, jaw, and by the time he reaches Loki's mouth, his other arm reaches up to the belt, tugs to get it undone, to slide it from Loki's wrists. Touching is on the menu again. This has been a fun experiment, if emotionally turbulent, but he thinks it's about time they be back on a more even level.]
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Mobius could stand to look a little mussed after all of that.
His legs shift to allow Mobius to lay between them, gasping gently at the friction this provides. ]
Thank you. [ Because he does have manners, at times. ] Are you going to fuck me now? [ He asks, smirking into Mobius' kisses. ]
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Seem to recall you had a certain desire to ride the hell out of me. [There is very little that sounds better right now, honestly.] Still up for that? I'm up for that. I'm very up for that. [See, because he's still definitely hard, he's up--
A hand gropes for the lube. There you are...] I mean, I didn't get the begging I was hoping for, but I'll just have to work harder for it next time.
[Next time. There'd better be a next time. There better be several next times.]
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Next time. I like the sound of that.
[ Is he going to keep leaning in and flip Mobius over? Yes, apparently, and without much by way of warning. ]
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Me too. Hey, I'm gonna try to not be too gentle, okay? [Normally he might go about this slow and steady and sure as ever, but the mix of need and Loki's general desire for...not-gentle means he's willing to play it fast and loose when he makes to work a slicked up finger in, two. His other hand trails up Loki's neck, back for a fistful of hair, to keep him close, to keep him right here. For a second all he can think of is work your Loki, puffing another laugh against Loki's skin.]
God, I've wanted you so badly.
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It's perfect, really, and there's still more to come. ]
Tell me, [ He gasps out, pulling against Mobius' hold just to test it a little, rocks his hips back into the fingers inside of him. ] Please, Mobius.
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