Fic: Push and Pull (Thor, Volstagg/Loki)
Title: Push and Pull
Fandom: Thor
Pairing: Volstagg/Loki
Rating: NC17 for sex and some bad language
Word Count: 1135
Summary: Loki didn't have much of a choice about being trapped under Volstagg; thankfully, that was exactly where he wanted to be.
Author's Note: Written for the prompt on norsekink, Volstagg/Loki, fat admiration. Unbetaed.
Taking a partner to bed was a curious act where one was expected to follow rules and regulations that nobody had ever written down or discussed before, and Loki was hesitant to involve himself in the overcomplicated ordeal. He had an appetite for the act itself, but social politics were only entertaining when used to embarrass or expose others - getting personally involved in the affairs was too messy for his tastes under most circumstances.
It did not help that one of his earliest conquests had ended when his partner accused him of being like a fish, cold and passive, as if there were something wrong with his choosing not to fight between the sheets. He had no desire to wrestle for dominance or buck like some wild beast, and resented his passivity being taken for disinterest. After that particular incident he had been hesitant involving himself with others, overcautious, even, and quickly rejected all those who made the slightest protest about his preferences.
He had been drunk when he propositioned Volstagg the first time. He had to be; sleeping with any of the Warriors Three risked damage to something he liked to consider a friendship. Moreover, Loki loathed acting on impulse - his strengths lay in planning and manipulating others like game pieces. Even in battle he chose weapons that were light and quick to allow him more time for thought between strikes.
As one of the few Asgardians who chose not to act on impulse, Loki could not say he was surprised when Volstagg initially rejected his advances, thinking them mockery or a means to further deception. He had tried to convince Volstagg with his lips and his touch, but Volstagg had refused him at every turn, finally getting angry and shoving Loki off him roughly before storming away.
Loki expected the headache he woke up to, and was not too surprised when it was encouraged by hammering on his bedroom door - Thor was not known for missing the chance to torment anyone who had overindulged - but he had been a little puzzled to find Volstagg the one who had woken him.
"Now that you have your senses, do you have anything to say about last night?"
Loki grit his teeth, angry at himself for the loss of control. "I meant you no harm."
"I believe you intended none," Volstagg said, expression difficult to read; Loki sometimes wondered if others would find his own lies harder to spot if he had a beard to disguise his lips, resented his inability to grow one. "But I find myself wondering what you did intend."
Loki would not take the risk of exposing himself in words before knowing the odds, shrugged to let one shoulder slip free from his tunic, and watched Volstagg's eyes track the movement. Perhaps his mistake that previous night had not been a lost cause after all. "I meant my offer. As I recall, you did not accept it."
Volstagg nodded, licked his lips, and Loki caught himself tracking the movement in turn. "Might I consider your offer again?"
Loki loosened his belt, gripped the bottom of his tunic, and pulled it up over his head, casting it aside.
Volstagg accepted the offer this time.
Volstagg was enormous with both muscle and fat, both of which he was proud, and both of which he wielded easily. Loki had rarely felt slight before - he was tall, even amongst Asgardians - and there was something freeing in being with someone who was both larger than him and comfortable with it. It was hard not to feel comfortable around him in turn, and it was good to be with someone who had both the strength to pin him down and the padding to make such pinning pleasant.
Loki learned soon enough that Volstagg's bulk meant his own passivity in bed was virtually a necessity, the weight of the man above and inside him crushing him into the sheets, though they had to take it slowly the first time; Loki's bed creaked in protest a few too many times throughout, having been built with Loki in mind rather than his lovers.
In the times since then, in Volstagg's quarters and after he had the base of his bed significantly reinforced, he had also come to learn that his fondness for being manhandled did not require him to lie on his stomach every time he was fucked. Volstagg had some experience of smaller lovers and had the strength of one who had been fat for many, many years; Loki found himself with his legs pushed back against his chest, or slung over Volstagg's shoulders, sometimes spread wide around Volstagg's waist to test his flexibility. With Volstagg's assistance, he had started to understand why fucking was something people did not just do to sate their appetites, it was something they did for entertainment.
Loki had also not known laughter could be acceptable during sex, but he had found himself breathless with it when Volstagg had pushed him onto hands and knees and fucked him like a dog. Volstagg had been fast and enthusiastic and roared his orgasm, and Loki had found himself crying out as much with laughter as with release when he came.
With Volstagg, sex was not a means to an end, and an orgasm was not considered an end. Loki had ended up, on one memorable evening, begging Volstagg to stop not because he was sore but because he was exhausted, Volstagg having kept him open on thick fingers between one orgasm and the next. He had been sweating and shaking, damn close to outright crying, and when Volstagg had pulled out his fingers and rolled Loki onto his side before drawing him into a hug, Loki had accepted it without a word.
Volstagg taught Loki a great many things about physicality, about enjoying his own skin, and it only seemed fair to repay such a favour with another favour. Volstagg liked eating, drinking, fighting and fucking, and had yet to try combining any of the four while Loki was around. Fighting remained out of the question as far as Loki was concerned, and three options were more than enough to work with.
Loki did not wait for others often and did not intend to make a habit of it - his limited patience did not allow for it. He had been hesitant to do this much, sitting in Volstagg's chambers with his clothes already put aside and a jar resting in his lap, wondering all the while if he would look a fool in Volstagg's eyes for it.
It was worth every moment of doubt to see the look on Volstagg's face as Loki poured the contents of the jar over his skin, mead splashing out quickly and followed by the slower drip of honey.
Hunger came in many forms, and Volstagg was swift to satisfy all of them.
The End
Fandom: Thor
Pairing: Volstagg/Loki
Rating: NC17 for sex and some bad language
Word Count: 1135
Summary: Loki didn't have much of a choice about being trapped under Volstagg; thankfully, that was exactly where he wanted to be.
Author's Note: Written for the prompt on norsekink, Volstagg/Loki, fat admiration. Unbetaed.
Taking a partner to bed was a curious act where one was expected to follow rules and regulations that nobody had ever written down or discussed before, and Loki was hesitant to involve himself in the overcomplicated ordeal. He had an appetite for the act itself, but social politics were only entertaining when used to embarrass or expose others - getting personally involved in the affairs was too messy for his tastes under most circumstances.
It did not help that one of his earliest conquests had ended when his partner accused him of being like a fish, cold and passive, as if there were something wrong with his choosing not to fight between the sheets. He had no desire to wrestle for dominance or buck like some wild beast, and resented his passivity being taken for disinterest. After that particular incident he had been hesitant involving himself with others, overcautious, even, and quickly rejected all those who made the slightest protest about his preferences.
He had been drunk when he propositioned Volstagg the first time. He had to be; sleeping with any of the Warriors Three risked damage to something he liked to consider a friendship. Moreover, Loki loathed acting on impulse - his strengths lay in planning and manipulating others like game pieces. Even in battle he chose weapons that were light and quick to allow him more time for thought between strikes.
As one of the few Asgardians who chose not to act on impulse, Loki could not say he was surprised when Volstagg initially rejected his advances, thinking them mockery or a means to further deception. He had tried to convince Volstagg with his lips and his touch, but Volstagg had refused him at every turn, finally getting angry and shoving Loki off him roughly before storming away.
Loki expected the headache he woke up to, and was not too surprised when it was encouraged by hammering on his bedroom door - Thor was not known for missing the chance to torment anyone who had overindulged - but he had been a little puzzled to find Volstagg the one who had woken him.
"Now that you have your senses, do you have anything to say about last night?"
Loki grit his teeth, angry at himself for the loss of control. "I meant you no harm."
"I believe you intended none," Volstagg said, expression difficult to read; Loki sometimes wondered if others would find his own lies harder to spot if he had a beard to disguise his lips, resented his inability to grow one. "But I find myself wondering what you did intend."
Loki would not take the risk of exposing himself in words before knowing the odds, shrugged to let one shoulder slip free from his tunic, and watched Volstagg's eyes track the movement. Perhaps his mistake that previous night had not been a lost cause after all. "I meant my offer. As I recall, you did not accept it."
Volstagg nodded, licked his lips, and Loki caught himself tracking the movement in turn. "Might I consider your offer again?"
Loki loosened his belt, gripped the bottom of his tunic, and pulled it up over his head, casting it aside.
Volstagg accepted the offer this time.
Volstagg was enormous with both muscle and fat, both of which he was proud, and both of which he wielded easily. Loki had rarely felt slight before - he was tall, even amongst Asgardians - and there was something freeing in being with someone who was both larger than him and comfortable with it. It was hard not to feel comfortable around him in turn, and it was good to be with someone who had both the strength to pin him down and the padding to make such pinning pleasant.
Loki learned soon enough that Volstagg's bulk meant his own passivity in bed was virtually a necessity, the weight of the man above and inside him crushing him into the sheets, though they had to take it slowly the first time; Loki's bed creaked in protest a few too many times throughout, having been built with Loki in mind rather than his lovers.
In the times since then, in Volstagg's quarters and after he had the base of his bed significantly reinforced, he had also come to learn that his fondness for being manhandled did not require him to lie on his stomach every time he was fucked. Volstagg had some experience of smaller lovers and had the strength of one who had been fat for many, many years; Loki found himself with his legs pushed back against his chest, or slung over Volstagg's shoulders, sometimes spread wide around Volstagg's waist to test his flexibility. With Volstagg's assistance, he had started to understand why fucking was something people did not just do to sate their appetites, it was something they did for entertainment.
Loki had also not known laughter could be acceptable during sex, but he had found himself breathless with it when Volstagg had pushed him onto hands and knees and fucked him like a dog. Volstagg had been fast and enthusiastic and roared his orgasm, and Loki had found himself crying out as much with laughter as with release when he came.
With Volstagg, sex was not a means to an end, and an orgasm was not considered an end. Loki had ended up, on one memorable evening, begging Volstagg to stop not because he was sore but because he was exhausted, Volstagg having kept him open on thick fingers between one orgasm and the next. He had been sweating and shaking, damn close to outright crying, and when Volstagg had pulled out his fingers and rolled Loki onto his side before drawing him into a hug, Loki had accepted it without a word.
Volstagg taught Loki a great many things about physicality, about enjoying his own skin, and it only seemed fair to repay such a favour with another favour. Volstagg liked eating, drinking, fighting and fucking, and had yet to try combining any of the four while Loki was around. Fighting remained out of the question as far as Loki was concerned, and three options were more than enough to work with.
Loki did not wait for others often and did not intend to make a habit of it - his limited patience did not allow for it. He had been hesitant to do this much, sitting in Volstagg's chambers with his clothes already put aside and a jar resting in his lap, wondering all the while if he would look a fool in Volstagg's eyes for it.
It was worth every moment of doubt to see the look on Volstagg's face as Loki poured the contents of the jar over his skin, mead splashing out quickly and followed by the slower drip of honey.
Hunger came in many forms, and Volstagg was swift to satisfy all of them.
The End