milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Enter Loki.

Actually, please don't. Especially if it involves a chainsaw. Just...stare at him, since he's pretty. Or, you know, talk to him. That would work too. Because he just came into the bar and he's sitting just at the end of it nursing a cup of tea.

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"Arf," he responds with a wicked little smile before he's pulling Loki down to him, hot mouth on hot mouth.

Love you more than I've ever loved anyone.

Hot and deep and perfect, slow and sweet and everything. Everything.

I have nothing to say, David. You've stolen my line.

He breaks off the kiss before he loses himself in it completely, looking at Loki with nothing but love in his eyes.

"Sorry," he says, grinning only a little. "Don't mean to take your words. Just your heart."

"You're a little late for that. You've had it for a while. So unless you're stealing from yourself, that's rather silly."

He places his hand over Loki's heart, palm soft and warm, and kisses the back of his hand, drawing it into a fist a moment later.

""

And then he's pulling David closer to claim his lips in a kiss that says louder than any words, even red ones, that David is his.

Always and forever, my love, my Loki.

The kiss, deep and hot and perfect, is broken as David's hand strokes Loki's hip, kisses changing to soft, hard, fast ones stolen from Loki's lips.

Love you.

And then he gives up, and just nuzzles into Loki, his head on his God's chest, eyes closed, arms around him.

"Tired, pet?"

He strokes David's hair.

"Not one bit," comes the contented reply, David turning to press a kiss to Loki's chest. "Just... happy. Happier than I remember being in a long time."

"I live to serve..." You.

And he curls his arms around David.

"I spoke to Charlie today."

His heart skips a beat. And then flutters, and he smiles - a sappier smile, one's never seen.

And then, only a moment's stiffening as he mentions Charlie.

"Oh?"

"Told him everything was all right. That he shouldn't expect any smiting."

A look down to David.

"He's rather sweet, actually. I like him."

He looks up to Loki with a wry smile on his face.

"Don't you be getting any ideas, Love," he says, and beeps Loki's nose.

He looks mock-horrified.

"I'm not! Well...maybe conversion ideas. I like having people."

A small laugh and a bright smile. "I know you do. But... Charlie's still very... Catholic. For all of his blaspheming and 'sinning'."

He shakes his head with another laugh.

"I'm sure he'll love you when he gets to know you. Did he mention how I just gush about you like a lovesick teenager?"

He grins.

"Maybe."

A kiss.

"That's a 'yes, my love, he said you make him nauseous with all the lovey doveyness', then?"

He grins.

"That's a 'I'm not telling you'll have to get it out of me somehow' then."

Another kiss, this one a little heated.

"Mmm...you know, I wonder how many people really don't recognize that little version of me."

David slips his hand under Loki's shirt, tracing the water rune gently, a single drip of water running perfectly down Loki's spine in a cold, wet path to soak into the waistband of his trousers.

"Tell me what he said!" he says almost petulantly, but he's smiling.

"I don't understand it at all, really. Other than the lack of wings for the most part, you're mostly the same. Just as pretty-" a kiss, "and cute-" and another, "and Godlike. Only smaller."

He gets a slightly strangled look on his face as the water slides down his spine, but after a minute, that goes away.

"He said 'mreep' and poked my nose."

A kiss...with a nip to David's lips.

"And it's all in the image, really. Loki is...this. The little boy is...that. The manners are different, the voice is different. It's a little more understandable than, say, Clark Kent."

"Who only has to take his glasses off for no one to recognise him?"

He kisses Loki back, sucking his lip.

"Be glad you don't wear glases, then."

A blink.

"Well, sometimes I do. When I think you'll like it."

Like now.

He bites his own lip, taking in the form appreciatively. "Oh, you do know how to spoil me."

His hands reach gently for the glasses perched on Loki's nose, and he puts them on himself before kissing him quite thoroughly.

"I don't spoil you, David. You'll never go bad with me."

But he's kissing him back then and there's really no room for words between them.

You'd need a crowbar.

He has Loki pressed against the back of the couch, kissing him deeply, holding Loki's jaw in the curve of his thumb. The angle is slightly sloppy. The kiss is not.