Fic: where the rainbow hits the ground
Title: where the rainbow hits the ground
Summary: It means nothing, and something, and everything.
Fandom: Thor
Word Count: 1597
Rating/Contents: NC-17, pre-canon, wallsex, Loki being a dick (less than usual but still)
Pairing: Loki/Sif
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: This pairing, I swear to fucking god. It has sprung sui generis into my and
coffeesuperhero's life. And now it is TAKING OVER and BUILDING PLAYLISTS. IDEK, man.
There is another lavish feast in the hall of the king, a celebration of a plentiful year; it has been going on for some hours now, and it isn't that Sif is bored, just that drinking mead has lost some of its novelty.
She looks down the table, just taking stock of the other guests; she barely gets anywhere before her gaze ends up on Loki. He's looking back at her, and she knows exactly what that look in his eyes means. She gives him the barest hint of a symbol, and the game is on.
Loki slips away from the table, quickly and quietly enough that not even Sif sees when he goes, just that he is gone. It takes her longer to extract herself from the company of her friends, which is no surprise. Volstagg is in the middle of a story, and he puts a hand on her arm when she tries to leave, pulling her down into her seat and making her laugh again.
The tale of the vanquish of the drunken bilchsteim is finished, and Sif remembers her errand; she slips out quickly, into the maze of hallways behind the feasting hall.
It is only her hunter's intuition that allows her to sense Loki's approach; he steps out of a pool of darkness, his coat swirling around his feet as he walks. "You kept me waiting," he says; his voice is dangerous, hurt and anger underneath his light, careless tone.
"You can have secrecy or speed," she tells him, walking slowly towards him, not flinching under his gaze. "I would like to think that the anticipation is its own pleasure."
"Anticipation is only pleasurable for so long," he returns.
When they come together, she drapes her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. "Then why are we still anticipating?"
He really is upset with her, his kisses harsh; he walks her back towards the wall, pushing her hard against it and pinning her with his whole body. He's not as strong as she is, not nearly, and if she wanted she'd have him flat on his back in half an instant. There's something to that, though, the fact that she's doing it of her own free will, toying with him.
There's no disguising what he wants; he tugs the straps of her dress down her shoulders so that he can lean down and get his mouth onto her breasts, sucking hard at her nipples. It's not for her benefit, she knows, instead something that he's doing because he wants to be doing it, because it thrills him.
She hikes up her dress, drawing it up until it's past her waist, and he doesn't hesitate, reaching down to push his fingers inside of her. She's already wet, has been since he first looked at her invitation and challenge, and his long fingers are perfect inside of her; she grabs him by his hair, pulling him up so she can kiss him greedily.
Now they're just wasting time; she knows what she wants, but it's about five layers of fabric and leather away. They've neither of them figured out how to do this efficiently, to get only parts of him undressed; the coat's fine, but then there's the doublet and the tunic and the trousers, and it's all rather maddening at a time like this.
"Your wardrobe has always left something to be desired," she says, undoing the ties at the side of his doublet.
"If you desire to add anything, you are moving in the wrong direction, because I've got plenty here," he tells her, pushing it aside so that he can lift the hem of his tunic and tuck it into his belt. "But, as always, love will find a way."
She smirks. "Then how will we manage it?"
A grin spreads on his face. "Clever girl." He pushes his trousers down, and finally his cock is free, hard and waiting for her; she strokes it a few times, but that's the limit of her patience. She shifts, letting the wall take her weight, and brings her knees up level with his waist. He's inside her in an instant, deep inside of her, and she kisses him hard, just so that she can use his mouth to silence the moans that she wants so badly to make.
It's been a long while that they've been together like this; no one has ever known- or if anyone has, they have never said. Neither of them have any interest in being found out. It would mean things, things that neither of them are interested in, things that neither of them feel. She has never loved Loki and she suspects she never will; what she loves from him is exactly what she's getting from him right now, the hot slide of his cock inside of her, his body holding her down as he thrusts into her again and again.
She's losing herself to it, biting her lip in an attempt to stay quiet and only failing a little. It's so good, just right, and there seems to be very little use in being perfectly silent. He's not silent either, gasping, soundless pants that say nothing and everything. It has barely been any time but already she's getting close, wanting more and more.
And then suddenly there are footsteps, incredibly loud on the stone floor, and both of them freeze. Even though she knows Loki's skill, knows that no one can see unless he wants them to, the idea of anyone approaching is terrifying. Loki puts a hand over her mouth, giving her a significant look. The suggestion that she doesn't know how to be silent is ridiculous; that doesn't mean she isn't grateful for his hand when she sees Thor come around the corner.
"Loki?" he calls, and Sif's heart stops.
Stay calm, he mouths at her. She's seen Loki's favorite trick many times, but there's something very different than seeing it right then, a copy of Loki stepping away from the wall on the other side of the hallway and walking towards Thor.
"Brother," Thor says, with his typical cheer. "I was afraid you had retired."
Loki starts moving in her again, thrusting slowly, and her eyes widen in shock. This cannot possibly be happening; Loki is Loki, but this is a cruel trick even for him.
"Of course not," Loki's avatar says smoothly. "Why would I retire when the feast is still so lively? Tell me, what have I missed in my absence?"
Loki is looking her right in the eyes now; it troubles her, what she sees there, Loki's triumph mixed with trembling desperation. She's seen them grow together, Loki tagging along behind Thor, but they are all old enough now that childish divisions shouldn't matter- but they, of course, do.
Thor and the copy of Loki are still talking, discussing this and that, mostly Thor expounding and Loki listening, and the whole situation is bizarre, perplexing. Sif should care more, should probably even call a halt to the whole thing; her better judgement is, however, overrun by the baser fact that Loki is a very skillful lover, even in the context of a tryst like this one. He's thrusting up into her, short strokes that make her shake, and now he's grinning, the focused, eager, self-satisfied grin that he has when she's very close, when he knows he's got her in his clutches, that he reduced her to a creature of want and nothing else.
He reaches down to touch her, stroking her where she's most sensitive, and mouths now; she hits the wall, crying out, and even behind Loki's hand it is clearly audible.
"What was that?" she hears Thor ask.
"Hmm?" the other Loki says. "I didn't notice anything."
"Do not delay any further, brother," Thor says, ignoring the phantom noise. "The best is yet to come."
"I'll be along shortly," Loki promises, and Thor bounds off. The other Loki walks towards them, looking back over its shoulder to make sure that Thor is gone, and then it flickers out. Loki drops his hand away from her mouth, and Sif takes a deep breath when it's gone, glad that the danger has- for now- passed.
It seems secondary in light of what she just witnessed, the fact that Loki is still hard and wanting; the way he shoves her against the wall serves as a very pointed reminder. This isn't for her now, isn't anything but him using her body, giving himself a reward for a job well done. It doesn't take long; he puts his head down and sinks his teeth into the muscle of her shoulder, letting her skin stop the sound from escaping.
And then it's over. He holds her while she carefully regains her footing; nothing worse at this point than for her to fall and attract attention. Their clothing is set right, looking only a little clumsy and crumpled, and Loki smooths down his hair, combing out the places where she grabbed at it with his fingers.
She's about to go, but Loki grabs her by the waist, pulling her to him and kissing her hard. It isn't like him; she's aware something has changed, but she's not sure what it is, even less sure that she had any say in it at all.
"Go," he tells her. "I'll follow after you."
She nods, turning and walking away, back into the sound and light, where she will pretend that nothing is different or wrong at all.
She does not look back.
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/409508.html. Please comment at DW using OpenID.
comments over there.
Summary: It means nothing, and something, and everything.
Fandom: Thor
Word Count: 1597
Rating/Contents: NC-17, pre-canon, wallsex, Loki being a dick (less than usual but still)
Pairing: Loki/Sif
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: This pairing, I swear to fucking god. It has sprung sui generis into my and
coffeesuperhero's life. And now it is TAKING OVER and BUILDING PLAYLISTS. IDEK, man.
There is another lavish feast in the hall of the king, a celebration of a plentiful year; it has been going on for some hours now, and it isn't that Sif is bored, just that drinking mead has lost some of its novelty.
She looks down the table, just taking stock of the other guests; she barely gets anywhere before her gaze ends up on Loki. He's looking back at her, and she knows exactly what that look in his eyes means. She gives him the barest hint of a symbol, and the game is on.
Loki slips away from the table, quickly and quietly enough that not even Sif sees when he goes, just that he is gone. It takes her longer to extract herself from the company of her friends, which is no surprise. Volstagg is in the middle of a story, and he puts a hand on her arm when she tries to leave, pulling her down into her seat and making her laugh again.
The tale of the vanquish of the drunken bilchsteim is finished, and Sif remembers her errand; she slips out quickly, into the maze of hallways behind the feasting hall.
It is only her hunter's intuition that allows her to sense Loki's approach; he steps out of a pool of darkness, his coat swirling around his feet as he walks. "You kept me waiting," he says; his voice is dangerous, hurt and anger underneath his light, careless tone.
"You can have secrecy or speed," she tells him, walking slowly towards him, not flinching under his gaze. "I would like to think that the anticipation is its own pleasure."
"Anticipation is only pleasurable for so long," he returns.
When they come together, she drapes her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. "Then why are we still anticipating?"
He really is upset with her, his kisses harsh; he walks her back towards the wall, pushing her hard against it and pinning her with his whole body. He's not as strong as she is, not nearly, and if she wanted she'd have him flat on his back in half an instant. There's something to that, though, the fact that she's doing it of her own free will, toying with him.
There's no disguising what he wants; he tugs the straps of her dress down her shoulders so that he can lean down and get his mouth onto her breasts, sucking hard at her nipples. It's not for her benefit, she knows, instead something that he's doing because he wants to be doing it, because it thrills him.
She hikes up her dress, drawing it up until it's past her waist, and he doesn't hesitate, reaching down to push his fingers inside of her. She's already wet, has been since he first looked at her invitation and challenge, and his long fingers are perfect inside of her; she grabs him by his hair, pulling him up so she can kiss him greedily.
Now they're just wasting time; she knows what she wants, but it's about five layers of fabric and leather away. They've neither of them figured out how to do this efficiently, to get only parts of him undressed; the coat's fine, but then there's the doublet and the tunic and the trousers, and it's all rather maddening at a time like this.
"Your wardrobe has always left something to be desired," she says, undoing the ties at the side of his doublet.
"If you desire to add anything, you are moving in the wrong direction, because I've got plenty here," he tells her, pushing it aside so that he can lift the hem of his tunic and tuck it into his belt. "But, as always, love will find a way."
She smirks. "Then how will we manage it?"
A grin spreads on his face. "Clever girl." He pushes his trousers down, and finally his cock is free, hard and waiting for her; she strokes it a few times, but that's the limit of her patience. She shifts, letting the wall take her weight, and brings her knees up level with his waist. He's inside her in an instant, deep inside of her, and she kisses him hard, just so that she can use his mouth to silence the moans that she wants so badly to make.
It's been a long while that they've been together like this; no one has ever known- or if anyone has, they have never said. Neither of them have any interest in being found out. It would mean things, things that neither of them are interested in, things that neither of them feel. She has never loved Loki and she suspects she never will; what she loves from him is exactly what she's getting from him right now, the hot slide of his cock inside of her, his body holding her down as he thrusts into her again and again.
She's losing herself to it, biting her lip in an attempt to stay quiet and only failing a little. It's so good, just right, and there seems to be very little use in being perfectly silent. He's not silent either, gasping, soundless pants that say nothing and everything. It has barely been any time but already she's getting close, wanting more and more.
And then suddenly there are footsteps, incredibly loud on the stone floor, and both of them freeze. Even though she knows Loki's skill, knows that no one can see unless he wants them to, the idea of anyone approaching is terrifying. Loki puts a hand over her mouth, giving her a significant look. The suggestion that she doesn't know how to be silent is ridiculous; that doesn't mean she isn't grateful for his hand when she sees Thor come around the corner.
"Loki?" he calls, and Sif's heart stops.
Stay calm, he mouths at her. She's seen Loki's favorite trick many times, but there's something very different than seeing it right then, a copy of Loki stepping away from the wall on the other side of the hallway and walking towards Thor.
"Brother," Thor says, with his typical cheer. "I was afraid you had retired."
Loki starts moving in her again, thrusting slowly, and her eyes widen in shock. This cannot possibly be happening; Loki is Loki, but this is a cruel trick even for him.
"Of course not," Loki's avatar says smoothly. "Why would I retire when the feast is still so lively? Tell me, what have I missed in my absence?"
Loki is looking her right in the eyes now; it troubles her, what she sees there, Loki's triumph mixed with trembling desperation. She's seen them grow together, Loki tagging along behind Thor, but they are all old enough now that childish divisions shouldn't matter- but they, of course, do.
Thor and the copy of Loki are still talking, discussing this and that, mostly Thor expounding and Loki listening, and the whole situation is bizarre, perplexing. Sif should care more, should probably even call a halt to the whole thing; her better judgement is, however, overrun by the baser fact that Loki is a very skillful lover, even in the context of a tryst like this one. He's thrusting up into her, short strokes that make her shake, and now he's grinning, the focused, eager, self-satisfied grin that he has when she's very close, when he knows he's got her in his clutches, that he reduced her to a creature of want and nothing else.
He reaches down to touch her, stroking her where she's most sensitive, and mouths now; she hits the wall, crying out, and even behind Loki's hand it is clearly audible.
"What was that?" she hears Thor ask.
"Hmm?" the other Loki says. "I didn't notice anything."
"Do not delay any further, brother," Thor says, ignoring the phantom noise. "The best is yet to come."
"I'll be along shortly," Loki promises, and Thor bounds off. The other Loki walks towards them, looking back over its shoulder to make sure that Thor is gone, and then it flickers out. Loki drops his hand away from her mouth, and Sif takes a deep breath when it's gone, glad that the danger has- for now- passed.
It seems secondary in light of what she just witnessed, the fact that Loki is still hard and wanting; the way he shoves her against the wall serves as a very pointed reminder. This isn't for her now, isn't anything but him using her body, giving himself a reward for a job well done. It doesn't take long; he puts his head down and sinks his teeth into the muscle of her shoulder, letting her skin stop the sound from escaping.
And then it's over. He holds her while she carefully regains her footing; nothing worse at this point than for her to fall and attract attention. Their clothing is set right, looking only a little clumsy and crumpled, and Loki smooths down his hair, combing out the places where she grabbed at it with his fingers.
She's about to go, but Loki grabs her by the waist, pulling her to him and kissing her hard. It isn't like him; she's aware something has changed, but she's not sure what it is, even less sure that she had any say in it at all.
"Go," he tells her. "I'll follow after you."
She nods, turning and walking away, back into the sound and light, where she will pretend that nothing is different or wrong at all.
She does not look back.
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/409508.html. Please comment at DW using OpenID.
comments over there.