[ His touch remains light, arm crooked up to let his fingers brush under the curl of Stephen's if that's easier for now. ]
... Alright, I'm usually the one doing the busting, [ shut up, wow, calling him out on it, ] but the point is they can't just waddle up with meaty green fists or a shield and bonk you on the head. Anyway, it's fun to watch sorcerers get wasted.
[ Again, while he can absolutely relate on the Keep Out Avengers mood, it's not him who has to worry about being bonked on the head by shields or meaty green fists. But he won't rub that in. ]
Which explains the ale.
[ He's already starting to feel it, the pleasant hum of impending intoxication. But it's a ways off yet. Far enough to take another sip in quick succession. ]
They didn't want me going there anymore. [ He drains a big swig of his drink, biting his lip. Wrinkling his nose. Loki laughs, the sound bubbling up as if he can't contain how funny the mischief was. ] So I made sure there wasn't a "there" for them to keep me out of!
[ Head tipping back on a cackle, he shudders with it and shrinks back into Stephen's arm, bringing his glass up to half-cover his face. ]
They were suddenly in the middle of the street at their tables, they were so mad.
[ What was he expecting? Some kind of dramatic, destructive anecdote full of fraught character dynamics and deadly revenge, probably. Instead... an oversized, presumably permanent prank. It takes him a second or two of Loki's shuddering laughter for the punchline to land, expression travelling from frown through smile through— snort.
Stephen's chuckle runs low and rich, thumping Loki lightly once on the chest in perfunctory reprimand on behalf of another self he's never met and with any luck never will. ]
Idiot.
[ Spoken with enough warmth and enjoyment of the revelation that it might as well be a compliment. Nice job. ]
[ Oh, look at that, it's a peck on the cheek! Stephen tilts his head to look down at Loki, smile small and wry— and takes the moment of distraction to steal Loki's drink, leaning just enough out of the way to sneak a sip. ]
[ The Surprised Pikachu face as his drink is stolen is testament to how tipsy he is already (shouldn't have sipped Asgardian ale and an appletini before Stephen's brew). ]
It is? Just as well the Avengers can't bust in and take me away for my crimes.
[ Here you go, Loki, your glass. Within reach but still resting in Stephen's hand, like a ten-dollar bill on the sidewalk that may or may not be connected to somebody's clear twine. ]
[ The most sus look ever is shot the short distance Stephen's way as Loki eyes the innocent hold he has on Loki's drink. A nervous giggle bubbles up and he curls his hand by his lips, shaking his head. ]
[ He's making a serious face, the picture of innocence! But it stretches a little, play peeking out from the frown he pulls on with Loki's announcement. He may only be a few sips and a hearty gulp into his ale, but for better or worse he's still mortal. ]
You're one of the most powerful sorcerers on any planet and I am nowhere near that stupid, you've done something to my drink.
[ But he takes it anyway, and because he does in fact trust him, he knocks it back and makes a show of downing it in a few gulps, Adam's apple bobbing. ]
[ A smug tuck of his mouth and Stephen leans back, watching Loki with an impressive mock-up of an actual professional sorcerer man surveying his well done work. ]
[ Loki squirms around smoothly as a snake under that encircling arm and inclines his body alongside Stephen's, draping an arm across a lap to rest his glass on the other man's far hip. ]
Can't you, Stephen?
[ Arching a brow, a green gaze flickers under long inky lashes to Stephen's mouth. ]
[ A brief flutter of lashes as Loki deftly changes the state of play. There's an argument to say he should've seen it coming, another to say he did. Whatever the case Stephen's caught for a held-breath moment somewhere between sobering quickly and... not.
Then the forefingers of the arm draped about Loki's shoulders press their tips lightly to the exposed skin of his throat. It's a brief leak. A bright flex of the magic that had once played between their palms on a crowded dancefloor shared instead with the closest bare skin he can find. A warning jolt or a met challenge, kept in the realm of play with the signature of a familiar game. ]
[ The way he startles a little and his lips part says enough about how unexpected that was, pupils dilating as his smile widens with a breathless chuckle. ]
I see how it is ...
[ He wrinkles his nose playfully and brings Stephen's index finger around, a little higher, pausing to give him time to draw it away if he wants to before Loki draws it into his mouth with a lick. Magic sparkles on his lips and the tongue Stephen's finger rests upon, seiðr simmering to life. ]
[ There's no resistance, not even as Loki leaves him ample time to ease back. Instead Stephen watches, knowing, waiting, and although it's inevitable his inhale still shudders as Loki's tongue guides his finger into his mouth.
Warning, warning. You're flying a little too close to the sun here, Stephen Strange. Warm, wet muscle and magic settled under your fingerpad where the nerves are still working just fine, lips an infused promise.
Stephen's finger turns in Loki's mouth as he reaches his thumb to catch at his bottom lip, ease it gently down, the rest of his hand a careful frame for Loki's jaw. ]
Good tactic. Can't get you drunk with your mouth full.
[ There's a distraction in his expression, like he's forgotten to shift it, the ghost of a wry smile not quite making its way into anything that counts. His gaze, seeking Loki's, is heavy with the urge to drop again. But that thumb, at least, remains. A counterpoint. Pin in the notion that he should cycle this back. ]
[ Loki watches him like a hawk under his lashes, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he holds position with Stephen's thumb on his lower lip. He reads the pause, blinks slowly as if to promise he might stop, chastened.
When he licks at that thumb again his tongue is a little longer than a human's for the half-second he flicks it out for a taste, magic sparkling. ]
It's enough to earn a sharp, startled inward hiss of breath— and the chill of that in his own mouth jogs his primed resolve. Thumb draws away and with no small exertion of will Stephen slips his finger free... though not far. It curls to rest against Loki's lips where magic can still flirt against damp skin.
His eyes are closed now, laughter ghosting out on a shallow breath. ]
[ It's permission, as far as Loki is concerned when Stephen eases his grip. He huffs a cool breath of his own over that hand and nips at that finger and thumb, trying to curl his dextrous tongue around a digit and draw it back into the soft wetness of his mouth. Come here, you. Magic twinkles over his lips, chaos swirling and magnetic as added encouragement. ]
Stephen. [ It sounds lewd out loud which is exactly why he says in an undertone, ] Let me suck your fingers.
[ The mottled orange-red of the backs of his eyelids makes a good viewing platform for sensation, teeth and cool air and tongue and the ever-present thrill of magic. But finally his recently caught finger escapes the lure of Loki's mouth, hand shifting to a cradle for jaw and chin so he can place a firmer thumb this time just below the god's mouth.
It's still in the danger zone, but what can you do? Baby steps. ]
I don't think I will.
[ His eyes open again, blue darkened by the blow of his pupils but clear enough at least to speak of resolve. The twist of his expression still leans toward the soft: a sparring partner bested quickly and calling time. ]
[ Loki grins, eyes crinkling, and pokes his tongue out with his jaw held firm. I win, is the sentiment there, delighted and brimming with mischief. He would push his luck as far as it could go, but he settles for the trophy of seeing desire in those blue eyes. ]
Make me another drink to keep my mouth busy, then.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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... Alright, I'm usually the one doing the busting, [ shut up, wow, calling him out on it, ] but the point is they can't just waddle up with meaty green fists or a shield and bonk you on the head. Anyway, it's fun to watch sorcerers get wasted.
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Which explains the ale.
[ He's already starting to feel it, the pleasant hum of impending intoxication. But it's a ways off yet. Far enough to take another sip in quick succession. ]
Any bar fights yet?
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[ That's not technically a bar-fight ... but he's going to look at Stephen and bat his lashes like he could never do anything wrong on purpose. ]
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No, it does not. [ Consider him, as the mildness in his voice would indicate, entirely unsurprised. ] Are you going to regale me?
[ Presumably Loki didn't bring it up just to bury it immediately a moment later. ]
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[ Head tipping back on a cackle, he shudders with it and shrinks back into Stephen's arm, bringing his glass up to half-cover his face. ]
They were suddenly in the middle of the street at their tables, they were so mad.
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Stephen's chuckle runs low and rich, thumping Loki lightly once on the chest in perfunctory reprimand on behalf of another self he's never met and with any luck never will. ]
Idiot.
[ Spoken with enough warmth and enjoyment of the revelation that it might as well be a compliment. Nice job. ]
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I promise not to vanish this one unless absolutely necessary.
[ Look out, Stephen, a peck on the cheek is incoming! ]
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[ Oh, look at that, it's a peck on the cheek! Stephen tilts his head to look down at Loki, smile small and wry— and takes the moment of distraction to steal Loki's drink, leaning just enough out of the way to sneak a sip. ]
... Mhmm. Still got it.
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That's called stealing.
[ - said with great gravitas! ]
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It is? Just as well the Avengers can't bust in and take me away for my crimes.
[ Here you go, Loki, your glass. Within reach but still resting in Stephen's hand, like a ten-dollar bill on the sidewalk that may or may not be connected to somebody's clear twine. ]
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I don't trust you!
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That's mean. I'm just sitting here.
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[ But he takes it anyway, and because he does in fact trust him, he knocks it back and makes a show of downing it in a few gulps, Adam's apple bobbing. ]
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Well? Any guesses?
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You're getting me drunk.
[ Safe bet!! ]
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That's what you get for ordering me Asgardian ale.
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[ Loki squirms around smoothly as a snake under that encircling arm and inclines his body alongside Stephen's, draping an arm across a lap to rest his glass on the other man's far hip. ]
Can't you, Stephen?
[ Arching a brow, a green gaze flickers under long inky lashes to Stephen's mouth. ]
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Then the forefingers of the arm draped about Loki's shoulders press their tips lightly to the exposed skin of his throat. It's a brief leak. A bright flex of the magic that had once played between their palms on a crowded dancefloor shared instead with the closest bare skin he can find. A warning jolt or a met challenge, kept in the realm of play with the signature of a familiar game. ]
I can.
[ So watch your step. ]
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I see how it is ...
[ He wrinkles his nose playfully and brings Stephen's index finger around, a little higher, pausing to give him time to draw it away if he wants to before Loki draws it into his mouth with a lick. Magic sparkles on his lips and the tongue Stephen's finger rests upon, seiðr simmering to life. ]
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Warning, warning. You're flying a little too close to the sun here, Stephen Strange. Warm, wet muscle and magic settled under your fingerpad where the nerves are still working just fine, lips an infused promise.
Stephen's finger turns in Loki's mouth as he reaches his thumb to catch at his bottom lip, ease it gently down, the rest of his hand a careful frame for Loki's jaw. ]
Good tactic. Can't get you drunk with your mouth full.
[ There's a distraction in his expression, like he's forgotten to shift it, the ghost of a wry smile not quite making its way into anything that counts. His gaze, seeking Loki's, is heavy with the urge to drop again. But that thumb, at least, remains. A counterpoint. Pin in the notion that he should cycle this back. ]
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When he licks at that thumb again his tongue is a little longer than a human's for the half-second he flicks it out for a taste, magic sparkling. ]
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It's enough to earn a sharp, startled inward hiss of breath— and the chill of that in his own mouth jogs his primed resolve. Thumb draws away and with no small exertion of will Stephen slips his finger free... though not far. It curls to rest against Loki's lips where magic can still flirt against damp skin.
His eyes are closed now, laughter ghosting out on a shallow breath. ]
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Stephen. [ It sounds lewd out loud which is exactly why he says in an undertone, ] Let me suck your fingers.
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It's still in the danger zone, but what can you do? Baby steps. ]
I don't think I will.
[ His eyes open again, blue darkened by the blow of his pupils but clear enough at least to speak of resolve. The twist of his expression still leans toward the soft: a sparring partner bested quickly and calling time. ]
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Make me another drink to keep my mouth busy, then.
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