[ To avoid the impression of trying to peek behind the seller's bulky shoulder, Chris leans closer to Loki, draping his arm over the other man's shoulder and once again idly noticing how comfortable the motion is, like their bodies were engineered to fit into the same space.
That hadn't always been the case, right?
Regardless, it seems to be the case now, and whatever the reason, it puts Chris in the perfect position to murmur a quiet: ] Laying it on a little thick there, pal, [ into his ear.
Turning back to the seller, he hems and haws for a moment before deciding, careful to keep his awareness of the mirror relegated solely to his periphery. ]
At first I thought yellow, but now I'm thinking blue.
[ If laying it on thick means he gets to snuggle sideways into a handsome Starfleet captain, call him Cheddar McCheese. Loki slips an arm around Chris's waist and settles in cosily as his date hmms and ahhs about the bracelet colour, letting the mirror silently levitate back to the table once its purpose is achieved.
He pats Chris on the chest, moon-eyed for ditzy effect. ]
I do so love blue!
[ The minotaur huffs in annoyance and brings the blue bracelet around, her expression surprisingly flat for someone with a snout. She offers it over and Loki exclaims cheerfully how over the moon he is, how incredible the craftsmanship is ...
And she seems mollified when more passers-by take notice of her wares, thank the gods. ]
[ A little curl of tension loosens when the mirror settles back down where it was before; he can't lie and say there wasn't a part of him that was bracing for this escapade to be discovered, for the seller to bellow in outrage and for them to be chased through the market. It seems pretty par for the course for Chris' experience in alien markets, much to his chagrin.
He gives Loki a flat look of his own before curling his arm around his shoulders a little tighter, pasting on an appropriately appreciative look as the (admittedly) pretty bracelet is revealed.
At least the minotaur seems appeased with Loki's fawning praise, though Chris starts to try and steer them away anyway, unwilling to press their luck. He has his phaser on him, but he doesn't want to start firing anything in the throng of people around them, set to stun or not. ]
[ Loki's crowing draws attention to the stall even as they leave, putting a convenient barrier of potential sales between them and the minotaur. He wanders away with Chris, sliding the bracelet on to admire it, and when they pass by an alley he gives him a strong push with his Asgardian strength to steer him effectively into a wall.
All the dumbness is gone, replaced with a smirk and a certain mischief twinkling in his eyes. Appreciation too, flicking up and down from Chris's eyes to his mouth and back again. ]
[ Chris barely manages to flick a coin onto the table before they get pushed aside by sooner other curious market-goers, he has no idea if it was enough out to much for the bracelet, but it's the thought that counts.
When Loki pushes him into the alley and shoves him up against the wall, Chris's automatic defense response kicks in, though he does manage not to do something like pull his dads passer or trip them both to the horns. Who knows what's on this ground.
It only takes a second for his brain to catch up with hood body, to realize he's not in danger. Of being attacked, at least. ]
I equivocated. It's different.
Edited (am I gonna edit all of these it's more likely than you think) 2022-06-14 21:05 (UTC)
[ His grin widens, knifelike with a sharp look of approval, before it softens as Loki leans in, palms gliding their way around Chris's waist as he holds eye-contact. ]
I rather want to be nice to you, too ...
[ Black-nailed hands skim their way up Chris's chest as Loki leans in with every intent of begging a barely-there kiss, lips and breath as he lets his delight play out longer. ]
[ It would be the height of arrogance to say that Chris is used to people flinging themselves at him.
For one thing, he captains what is technically a military vessel, and most of the people who share it with him are his direct subordinates, so that's obviously not even remotely appropriate as far as intra-ship assignations. And despite the stereotype, most alien dignitaries aren't chomping at the bit to have a go at a Starfleet captain. Usually they eye him with distrust, still reluctant to let this weird fleshy little human have access to their worlds and their cultures.
And yet, he's comfortable enough with the proceedings that Loki's hands sliding over his waist and then up around his chest gets little more than a low, rumbled laugh vibrating in his chest.
It's nice to have someone be so delighted by him, alright, he's only human and having his ego stroked is certainly gratifying. So sue him. ]
I think you can be very nice when you put your mind to it, can't you?
[ Lips skate their way along Chris's jaw where Loki finds a home by his temple, nosing with easy affection. ]
They certainly don't call me Silvertongue for nothing.
[ This might be a dusty alley, might be semi-public, and he might be risking making a fool of himself, but that is really par for the course no matter what Loki gets up to. Said infamous tongue traces the shell of an ear, nipping sharply at a lobe to gauge what Chris likes. Loki's weight sinks forward until he rests against him, hands absently kneading their way down Chris's front like a cat.
Chris doesn't want a captain's responsibilities today, so he can let Loki take care of him if he likes. ]
[ He clearly has quite a long list of monikers; which makes sense, probably, if he'd managed to stay alive for thousands of years, Chris is sure he'd get a fair number of aliases too. As it is, he's going to get about fifty years max, but that's enough for him. Probably.
Number One is going to absolutely eviscerate him if this goes south.
Is it bad that Chris is starting to think it's probably worth it?
He lets his hands settle on Loki's sides beneath his cloak, petting him absently through the thick fabric of his sweatshirt, feeling out the long and lean shape of him hidden beneath his clothes. Already, he's proven to Chris that he can manipulate reality, shapeshift — that picture of a dark-haired woman on his communicator is making more and more sense now — so it shouldn't be surprising that the body beneath his hands feels so nice to touch, but it does, and Chris lets his pleasure be known with a long, pleased sigh. ]
Are you going to prove it to me?
[ Is he really going to do this in a fucking alley? ]
[ There you go. His smile can be felt as kisses mark their way down to a pulse, open-mouthed with a scrape of teeth that pinches, light before the pass of every soothing, sucking lick. Is he allowed to mark up Chris? Maybe a little, if he works his way down to the curve of his neck where he's deliciously hot ... ]
I'll reassure you of it.
[ Collars of clothes are stupid, Loki decides. The ambience of white noise coming from the mouth of the alley and the embrace reeling him in is a pleasant buzz in his blood, reminding him to keep this to light teasing for now. ]
[ He probably shouldn't mark him up, because while his jacket is collared, the shirt beneath it is not, and Chris doesn't make a habit of carrying around a medical tricorder to fix up bruises before returning back to his ship.
Will he care about that in a few minutes? Unlikely.
Since sliding his palms slowly over Loki's sides seemed to be received so well, Chris does it again, one hand slipping up to cup the back of his head as he nibbles his way down the column of Chris's throat, his fingers sifting into impossibly soft black hair as he lets himself tip his head back a little against the dusty brick behind them. ]
You. [ That part's probably obvious, considering he didn't even put up a token fight when Loki cornered him in this alley, didn't pull away when he slipped his arm around his waist, didn't back down when their arms linked right at the very beginning. ] Less clothing would be nice.
[ Sadly, they're still (ostensibly) in public. But Loki's cloak is cumbersome and keeps catching on Chris's hands; he's not going to push it away, though, because he's already got a sense that Loki takes great pride in his appearance, and he's pretty sure getting that cloak dirty with whatever's on the ground is not going to go over very well. ]
[ If he had a vulpine tail right now it would be fluffier as he shivers, arching into those hands with a happy hum against Chris's skin. Amid the folds of Loki's cloak he slips one hand down a stomach and abs, past a belt to lightly pet between Chris's legs, a promise of more, and he nudges his head into the fingers combing through his hair. Hedonism is easy to fall into and he encourages him by being very reactive. ]
How about a bed?
[ Chris doesn't think Loki isn't prepared, does he? For shame. ]
[ Having grown up in the Federation, on the planet upon which Starfleet Academy is housed, Chris is used to alien species and their subtle (or not so subtle) differences from humans. That is to say, the tail would get a raised eyebrow and that's about it.
He'd certainly be too distracted right now to care about a tail of any kind, what with Loki's hand slipping over his hip to slide between his thighs, prompting a low noise to rumble up from his chest as he pushes down the urge to push up into that touch.
Curling his fingers obligingly in Loki's hair, Chris uses his grip to gently coax him to lift his head, pulling just enough to be felt but not enough to hurt, all so he can lift one eyebrow in a move he probably picked up from Spock. ]
Are you going to conjure us a bed right here in this alley? I think that might be more noticeable than not...
[ The low laughter that paints Chris's cheek in a fond kiss comes with smiling eyes. Eyes that glow a faint green as Loki extracts his busy hand to gesture at the other end of the alleyway, verdant sparks igniting in a circle. ]
You're cute when you're bossy.
[ The sparks coalesce into a portal, a doorway to a bedroom that looks like it belongs somewhere much fancier than the district they have met up in. It bisects reality into two places, steps apart. ]
I cased out this planet ... a little. Alas, I don't slum it when I'm potentially fucking. Sorry to disappoint.
[ Chris mouths the word bossy incredulously as Loki laughs at him, too amused by the reaction to even consider getting offended, and loosens his fingers in Loki's hair so he can pet him idly again instead of just gripping at the dark strands that slip through his fingers.
His other eyebrow raises to join the first when a portal fizzles into the air beside them, bright green and glowing, looking both like a transporter beam and also decidedly not.
He shouldn't go into it. He knows he shouldn't. And yet...
It's not so much that he's being led around by his dick as it is that... Well. He knows how he's going to die, and this isn't it. If it's not going to kill him, then the risk is negligible, and he might as well let himself have fun in the last decade of his life, so what the hell.
Lifting his free hand from Loki's waist, he cups the young man's cheek and brushes his thumb gently under the thin skin beneath one bright green eye, his expression fond and impressed in equal measure. ]
Disappointed is the last word I'd choose for how I'm feeling right now.
[ It's the honesty that has him in a chokehold, not the gentle touch to his face or warm body pressed close. He tries to cover up his increasing fondness for Chris by dragging him down for a real kiss, all tongue and lips as Loki grows more aggressive in his flirting. The way he coaxes him off the wall and along to the portal comes in the way Loki runs his hands over Chris from wrist to elbow to neck, pawing him in close whenever his hips slip away.
The room beyond the portal is sleek and white, a world away from dust and dry air. Loki wraps his arms around Chris's neck once they're inside and the magic drops, revealing a seaside balcony view where once there was a filthy alley. Much better. ]
Fewer clothes would work, I agree.
[ That involves not touching Chris, however, and Loki loves how he's allowed to boldly stroke him through his pants to feel his desire growing, eyes on his face for a reaction. ]
[ If there's one thing Chris is good at spotting after all these years in Starfleet, it's the signs of someone who's grown up with a bit of a dearth of positive reinforcement. For some reason, people who lacked caring father figures tend to flock to the institution in droves — some might say Chris himself included, though he refuses to talk about it, thanks — and so seeing the way Loki's expression twists before he drags him in for a kiss is like seeing a neon sign illuminate.
He doesn't need to know the details, he won't even ask for clarification, but it does help paint a more complete picture about who Loki is than he'd previously known.
There's time to focus on that another day.
It's difficult to tear himself away from Loki's wandering hands to take in the room he's been all but dragged into, but some habits are hard to break, and casing the exits is one of them. The balcony is beautiful, with stunning scenery beyond, but he doesn't know who might be able to come in through that open space, let alone where they are in general. The gleaming white room is almost inconsequential after that. ]
Where have you taken me?
[ It's clear he doesn't seem to be all that angry about it, though, if the way his cock is filling out is any indication, or the half-lidded eyes that watch Loki watch him back, his hands never stilling while Chris stands in the middle of the room and lets himself be pawed at. ]
Somewhere we won't be interrupted.[ He might be addicted to the salt-sweat taste of Chris's neck, a rumble of an answer all Chris gets before Loki leans back and tugs him toward the bed by his waistband. He can instinctually sense that enigmatic explanation won't be enough, so he concedes a little more since Chris already proved he's okay with a few bent rules. ] A continent away, in a house belonging to people who are on holiday. I checked for cameras, there are none.
[ If allowed, he's going to steer Chris to sit down on the large, pristine bed. It's not exactly a safe place to do this but it's got Loki's approval, and he likes to fit himself into places he shouldn't be, so breaking and entering is peanuts when the house is perfect for what he wants. He'll be sure to leave it as he found it!
He bites his lip, nimble fingers at work on Chris's fly in no hurry to stop stroking him at every opportunity. ]
So petty thievery isn't enough, we're graduating to breaking and entering?
[ Chris laughs, appreciating a slightly more robust explanation than any he's ever gotten before, reassuring himself that as long as they're still on the same planet, the Enterprise should be able to grab him within seconds if the worst comes to pass. This planet doesn't appear to be plagued by ion storms, one of the only sure-fire ways to mess up the transporters.
Beaming up without his pants wouldn't be the most dignified of entrances he's ever made on his ship, but he'll survive.
He is allowed, but Chris makes it difficult by taking full advantage of their relative privacy by letting his hands do a little exploring of their own, slipping up beneath Loki's green sweatshirt to drag neatly-manicured fingers down his flanks, an effort to keep him close so Chris can mouth along the cut of Loki's jaw as he tries to focus. ]
At least tell me they won't come back before we skedaddle. [ Christopher, you're ruining your cool and suave image by opening your mouth, shut up.
Well. Maybe he'll shut up after he lets out a low groan prompted by Loki's murmured instruction, his cock twitching in his pants at the image. ]
Would you rather waste time finding lodgings while I'm holding your cock?
[ Loki arches a brow to rival Spock's and takes a moment once Chris is sat to shift his own cumbersome outfit. Magic shimmers over him, limning his clothes, and the cloak vanishes as if scoured from existence along with his hoodie beneath. The Seven-League boots vanish too, leaving him in his jeans when he finally climbs onto Chris's lap and drapes his arms around his captain's neck, hips giving a luxuriously slow roll as he settles in, smooth-skinned and pale, cool all over as if having stood outside in a snowstorm instead of wandering under the hot sun of an arid marketplace. Verity used to call him walking air-con and hang off him in the streets in summer.
A kiss drifts just out of reach of Chris's lips as Loki teases him, raking his nails through salt-and-pepper locks. Seeing how a mortal has aged is lovely, like reading the label on a fine wine, especially when he looks like Loki only met his twenties last week. Then there's cute phrases like skedaddle and he loves how accidentally charming that is, too. ]
You don't have to be gentle, you won't hurt me. [ Even if Chris tried, he thinks he wouldn't take it personally. ] You're welcome to warm me up, dear.
[ Chris is about to make some kind of quip, or at least try to, when Loki vanishes his clothes and he gets distracted. ]
Now that's a neat trick.
[ He'd known about meeting Loki today, and he'd had a vague impression that something like this could possibly be in the cards, but if he'd been asked even just a few hours ago if Chris thought he'd spend today being shoved down on a stranger's bed so a lithe twenty-something could climb into his lap like an Orion showgirl, he'd have laughed.
He's not laughing now. Instead, he's settling his hands on the bare skin of Loki's sides, marveling at the cool softness of his skin, of that evergreen scent much more noticeable now that he's not wrapped up in all those layers. ]
Why would I want to hurt you? [ Warming him up, though, that's something he's happy to do. Or at least try to do. In that vein, he drags his hands down, over the gentle swell of his ass, and gets a good grip on his thighs so he can hoist his companion closer, coaxing him to bend his neck a little more so Chris can kiss him properly. ]
[ Orion showgirls sound like they know what's up, his type of people.
Loki melts with the movements Chris wants, arching under his hands and rocking down to let him feel his own hardening erection trapped between their bodies. He can't stop fussing with that bouncy hair and tangles his fingers in it as he chuckles at the question, kissing him deeply like he wanted to in the alleyway and didn't. Warmth rushes through up his spine and he lets loose a soft moan, plans of getting Chris's pants off delayed by how pleasantly Loki fits squirming in his lap. ]
I meant, you won't. I'm three times denser than a human.
[ He bites Chris's lip and kisses it better, hips working him below in a lazy grind. ]
Not that I don't enjoy the idea of you trying to make your mark.
[ At the denser comment, Chris squeezes Loki's thighs as if testing his give through his jeans, his grip surprisingly strong for someone's whose job is, at its core, just to sit in a chair and give orders to his subordinates.
He likes to look after himself, alright. You never know when you're going to need to run from a firefight, or keep up with a pretty young thing slithering into your lap.
Loki's fingers in his hair and the way he's undulating in his lap makes it very difficult to focus on anything beyond the press of his lips, but Chris valiantly tries to rally his attention so that he's not just setting there basking in affection without giving any in return. That's just bad manners, isn't it. Sliding his hand up the smooth curve of Loki's spine, he tangles his fingers in his hair once more and pulls gently, an echo of the move he tried in the alley that had Loki laughing at him. ]
Sweetheart, if you wanted me to bite you, all you had to do was ask.
[ He's always in control, whether with women or men, his reputation affords him the opportunity to dictate how everything will go during a liaison owing to those expectations. It feels like that rug is being tugged out from beneath him as Chris pulls his hair back so Loki has to met his gaze, calling him soft petnames like he thinks Loki really is sweet. Part of him wishes he was, of course. He has tried to be good for what feels like his entire reincarnated life, ever since the Old Man killed himself, if not for the reasons said lunatic would have wanted.
The rarity of this treatment has Loki shivering in Chris's lap, eager to give him the escape from work that the captain so keenly craves. So, he arches his neck to be more alluring, sliding his hands around to push lightly on his lover's chest, but tries to cover up the resulting blush that spreads down from his cheeks with a haughty tone out of sync with it. ]
I think I want you on your back with your legs spread for me. [ It feels like a flight or fight response, but thrilling instead of galling. He kisses Chris again, showing him what he can expect from that Silvertongue title. ] I think I want you naked and lost with me in this bed, Chris, you and me and no world beyond the blankets. Nothing but your body and mine.
[ Not to say that Loki isn't clearly a consummate actor — Chris will probably never forget the coquettish display in the market as Loki draped himself over Chris's side and all but fluttered his eyelashes at the jewelry seller to fully embody the illusion of the ditzy, harmless ingenue — but it's nearly impossible to hide that kind of shiver and blush, and if Chris wasn't feeling fond and indulgent to the apparent godling perched in his lap before, he sure is now.
It's been a long time since Chris considered himself even remotely religious, and he's certainly not superstitious (no more so than any other sailor might be, at least), and he's never heard of Loki or his myriad titles, but based on the evidence of his ability to manipulate reality, the lifting of the mirror, the creation of the portal, the banishment of his clothes, it doesn't feel completely off-base to accept that maybe, just maybe, there is something going on here that all of Chris's state-of-the-art science can't quite explain.
Oh, and there's the "thousands of years old" and "traveled through dimensions" thing to consider, too.
Thinking about it makes his brain hurt, so he's going to give that up immediately and instead focus on the here and now, namely, the look Loki gives him as he shoves at his chest with hands sporting the same kind of varnish that Una favors, the prim cadence to his voice wildly out of sync with the heat in his eyes.
Chris grins at him. ] I'm starting to get it, yeah. [ He lets himself be pushed, but not before stealing another heady kiss, as well as bussing one to the soft warmth in Loki's cheek — it's cute! — before collapsing back onto the bed beneath him so he can fully admire the sight that is Loki perched on his hips, shirtless and tousled from Chris's wandering hands, that blue shimmering bracelet on his wrist the only hint of color in an otherwise stark palette. ] I want that too.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
That hadn't always been the case, right?
Regardless, it seems to be the case now, and whatever the reason, it puts Chris in the perfect position to murmur a quiet: ] Laying it on a little thick there, pal, [ into his ear.
Turning back to the seller, he hems and haws for a moment before deciding, careful to keep his awareness of the mirror relegated solely to his periphery. ]
At first I thought yellow, but now I'm thinking blue.
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He pats Chris on the chest, moon-eyed for ditzy effect. ]
I do so love blue!
[ The minotaur huffs in annoyance and brings the blue bracelet around, her expression surprisingly flat for someone with a snout. She offers it over and Loki exclaims cheerfully how over the moon he is, how incredible the craftsmanship is ...
And she seems mollified when more passers-by take notice of her wares, thank the gods. ]
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He gives Loki a flat look of his own before curling his arm around his shoulders a little tighter, pasting on an appropriately appreciative look as the (admittedly) pretty bracelet is revealed.
At least the minotaur seems appeased with Loki's fawning praise, though Chris starts to try and steer them away anyway, unwilling to press their luck. He has his phaser on him, but he doesn't want to start firing anything in the throng of people around them, set to stun or not. ]
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All the dumbness is gone, replaced with a smirk and a certain mischief twinkling in his eyes. Appreciation too, flicking up and down from Chris's eyes to his mouth and back again. ]
You lied for me.
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When Loki pushes him into the alley and shoves him up against the wall, Chris's automatic defense response kicks in, though he does manage not to do something like pull his dads passer or trip them both to the horns. Who knows what's on this ground.
It only takes a second for his brain to catch up with hood body, to realize he's not in danger. Of being attacked, at least. ]
I equivocated. It's different.
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[ His grin widens, knifelike with a sharp look of approval, before it softens as Loki leans in, palms gliding their way around Chris's waist as he holds eye-contact. ]
I rather want to be nice to you, too ...
[ Black-nailed hands skim their way up Chris's chest as Loki leans in with every intent of begging a barely-there kiss, lips and breath as he lets his delight play out longer. ]
no subject
For one thing, he captains what is technically a military vessel, and most of the people who share it with him are his direct subordinates, so that's obviously not even remotely appropriate as far as intra-ship assignations. And despite the stereotype, most alien dignitaries aren't chomping at the bit to have a go at a Starfleet captain. Usually they eye him with distrust, still reluctant to let this weird fleshy little human have access to their worlds and their cultures.
And yet, he's comfortable enough with the proceedings that Loki's hands sliding over his waist and then up around his chest gets little more than a low, rumbled laugh vibrating in his chest.
It's nice to have someone be so delighted by him, alright, he's only human and having his ego stroked is certainly gratifying. So sue him. ]
I think you can be very nice when you put your mind to it, can't you?
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They certainly don't call me Silvertongue for nothing.
[ This might be a dusty alley, might be semi-public, and he might be risking making a fool of himself, but that is really par for the course no matter what Loki gets up to. Said infamous tongue traces the shell of an ear, nipping sharply at a lobe to gauge what Chris likes. Loki's weight sinks forward until he rests against him, hands absently kneading their way down Chris's front like a cat.
Chris doesn't want a captain's responsibilities today, so he can let Loki take care of him if he likes. ]
no subject
Number One is going to absolutely eviscerate him if this goes south.
Is it bad that Chris is starting to think it's probably worth it?
He lets his hands settle on Loki's sides beneath his cloak, petting him absently through the thick fabric of his sweatshirt, feeling out the long and lean shape of him hidden beneath his clothes. Already, he's proven to Chris that he can manipulate reality, shapeshift — that picture of a dark-haired woman on his communicator is making more and more sense now — so it shouldn't be surprising that the body beneath his hands feels so nice to touch, but it does, and Chris lets his pleasure be known with a long, pleased sigh. ]
Are you going to prove it to me?
[ Is he really going to do this in a fucking alley? ]
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I'll reassure you of it.
[ Collars of clothes are stupid, Loki decides. The ambience of white noise coming from the mouth of the alley and the embrace reeling him in is a pleasant buzz in his blood, reminding him to keep this to light teasing
for now. ]Relax, Chris, I've got you. What do you want?
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Will he care about that in a few minutes? Unlikely.
Since sliding his palms slowly over Loki's sides seemed to be received so well, Chris does it again, one hand slipping up to cup the back of his head as he nibbles his way down the column of Chris's throat, his fingers sifting into impossibly soft black hair as he lets himself tip his head back a little against the dusty brick behind them. ]
You. [ That part's probably obvious, considering he didn't even put up a token fight when Loki cornered him in this alley, didn't pull away when he slipped his arm around his waist, didn't back down when their arms linked right at the very beginning. ] Less clothing would be nice.
[ Sadly, they're still (ostensibly) in public. But Loki's cloak is cumbersome and keeps catching on Chris's hands; he's not going to push it away, though, because he's already got a sense that Loki takes great pride in his appearance, and he's pretty sure getting that cloak dirty with whatever's on the ground is not going to go over very well. ]
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How about a bed?
[ Chris doesn't think Loki isn't prepared, does he? For shame. ]
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He'd certainly be too distracted right now to care about a tail of any kind, what with Loki's hand slipping over his hip to slide between his thighs, prompting a low noise to rumble up from his chest as he pushes down the urge to push up into that touch.
Curling his fingers obligingly in Loki's hair, Chris uses his grip to gently coax him to lift his head, pulling just enough to be felt but not enough to hurt, all so he can lift one eyebrow in a move he probably picked up from Spock. ]
Are you going to conjure us a bed right here in this alley? I think that might be more noticeable than not...
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You're cute when you're bossy.
[ The sparks coalesce into a portal, a doorway to a bedroom that looks like it belongs somewhere much fancier than the district they have met up in. It bisects reality into two places, steps apart. ]
I cased out this planet ... a little. Alas, I don't slum it when I'm potentially fucking. Sorry to disappoint.
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His other eyebrow raises to join the first when a portal fizzles into the air beside them, bright green and glowing, looking both like a transporter beam and also decidedly not.
He shouldn't go into it. He knows he shouldn't. And yet...
It's not so much that he's being led around by his dick as it is that... Well. He knows how he's going to die, and this isn't it. If it's not going to kill him, then the risk is negligible, and he might as well let himself have fun in the last decade of his life, so what the hell.
Lifting his free hand from Loki's waist, he cups the young man's cheek and brushes his thumb gently under the thin skin beneath one bright green eye, his expression fond and impressed in equal measure. ]
Disappointed is the last word I'd choose for how I'm feeling right now.
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The room beyond the portal is sleek and white, a world away from dust and dry air. Loki wraps his arms around Chris's neck once they're inside and the magic drops, revealing a seaside balcony view where once there was a filthy alley. Much better. ]
Fewer clothes would work, I agree.
[ That involves not touching Chris, however, and Loki loves how he's allowed to boldly stroke him through his pants to feel his desire growing, eyes on his face for a reaction. ]
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He doesn't need to know the details, he won't even ask for clarification, but it does help paint a more complete picture about who Loki is than he'd previously known.
There's time to focus on that another day.
It's difficult to tear himself away from Loki's wandering hands to take in the room he's been all but dragged into, but some habits are hard to break, and casing the exits is one of them. The balcony is beautiful, with stunning scenery beyond, but he doesn't know who might be able to come in through that open space, let alone where they are in general. The gleaming white room is almost inconsequential after that. ]
Where have you taken me?
[ It's clear he doesn't seem to be all that angry about it, though, if the way his cock is filling out is any indication, or the half-lidded eyes that watch Loki watch him back, his hands never stilling while Chris stands in the middle of the room and lets himself be pawed at. ]
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[ If allowed, he's going to steer Chris to sit down on the large, pristine bed. It's not exactly a safe place to do this but it's got Loki's approval, and he likes to fit himself into places he shouldn't be, so breaking and entering is peanuts when the house is perfect for what he wants. He'll be sure to leave it as he found it!
He bites his lip, nimble fingers at work on Chris's fly in no hurry to stop stroking him at every opportunity. ]
Sit down for me, I want to taste you.
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[ Chris laughs, appreciating a slightly more robust explanation than any he's ever gotten before, reassuring himself that as long as they're still on the same planet, the Enterprise should be able to grab him within seconds if the worst comes to pass. This planet doesn't appear to be plagued by ion storms, one of the only sure-fire ways to mess up the transporters.
Beaming up without his pants wouldn't be the most dignified of entrances he's ever made on his ship, but he'll survive.
He is allowed, but Chris makes it difficult by taking full advantage of their relative privacy by letting his hands do a little exploring of their own, slipping up beneath Loki's green sweatshirt to drag neatly-manicured fingers down his flanks, an effort to keep him close so Chris can mouth along the cut of Loki's jaw as he tries to focus. ]
At least tell me they won't come back before we skedaddle. [ Christopher, you're ruining your cool and suave image by opening your mouth, shut up.
Well. Maybe he'll shut up after he lets out a low groan prompted by Loki's murmured instruction, his cock twitching in his pants at the image. ]
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[ Loki arches a brow
to rival Spock'sand takes a moment once Chris is sat to shift his own cumbersome outfit. Magic shimmers over him, limning his clothes, and the cloak vanishes as if scoured from existence along with his hoodie beneath. The Seven-League boots vanish too, leaving him in his jeans when he finally climbs onto Chris's lap and drapes his arms around his captain's neck, hips giving a luxuriously slow roll as he settles in, smooth-skinned and pale, cool all over as if having stood outside in a snowstorm instead of wandering under the hot sun of an arid marketplace. Verity used to call him walking air-con and hang off him in the streets in summer.A kiss drifts just out of reach of Chris's lips as Loki teases him, raking his nails through salt-and-pepper locks. Seeing how a mortal has aged is lovely, like reading the label on a fine wine, especially when he looks like Loki only met his twenties last week. Then there's cute phrases like skedaddle and he loves how accidentally charming that is, too. ]
You don't have to be gentle, you won't hurt me. [ Even if Chris tried, he thinks he wouldn't take it personally. ] You're welcome to warm me up, dear.
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Now that's a neat trick.
[ He'd known about meeting Loki today, and he'd had a vague impression that something like this could possibly be in the cards, but if he'd been asked even just a few hours ago if Chris thought he'd spend today being shoved down on a stranger's bed so a lithe twenty-something could climb into his lap like an Orion showgirl, he'd have laughed.
He's not laughing now. Instead, he's settling his hands on the bare skin of Loki's sides, marveling at the cool softness of his skin, of that evergreen scent much more noticeable now that he's not wrapped up in all those layers. ]
Why would I want to hurt you? [ Warming him up, though, that's something he's happy to do. Or at least try to do. In that vein, he drags his hands down, over the gentle swell of his ass, and gets a good grip on his thighs so he can hoist his companion closer, coaxing him to bend his neck a little more so Chris can kiss him properly. ]
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Loki melts with the movements Chris wants, arching under his hands and rocking down to let him feel his own hardening erection trapped between their bodies. He can't stop fussing with that bouncy hair and tangles his fingers in it as he chuckles at the question, kissing him deeply like he wanted to in the alleyway and didn't. Warmth rushes through up his spine and he lets loose a soft moan, plans of getting Chris's pants off delayed by how pleasantly Loki fits squirming in his lap. ]
I meant, you won't. I'm three times denser than a human.
[ He bites Chris's lip and kisses it better, hips working him below in a lazy grind. ]
Not that I don't enjoy the idea of you trying to make your mark.
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He likes to look after himself, alright. You never know when you're going to need to run from a firefight, or keep up with a pretty young thing slithering into your lap.
Loki's fingers in his hair and the way he's undulating in his lap makes it very difficult to focus on anything beyond the press of his lips, but Chris valiantly tries to rally his attention so that he's not just setting there basking in affection without giving any in return. That's just bad manners, isn't it. Sliding his hand up the smooth curve of Loki's spine, he tangles his fingers in his hair once more and pulls gently, an echo of the move he tried in the alley that had Loki laughing at him. ]
Sweetheart, if you wanted me to bite you, all you had to do was ask.
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The rarity of this treatment has Loki shivering in Chris's lap, eager to give him the escape from work that the captain so keenly craves. So, he arches his neck to be more alluring, sliding his hands around to push lightly on his lover's chest, but tries to cover up the resulting blush that spreads down from his cheeks with a haughty tone out of sync with it. ]
I think I want you on your back with your legs spread for me. [ It feels like a flight or fight response, but thrilling instead of galling. He kisses Chris again, showing him what he can expect from that Silvertongue title. ] I think I want you naked and lost with me in this bed, Chris, you and me and no world beyond the blankets. Nothing but your body and mine.
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It's been a long time since Chris considered himself even remotely religious, and he's certainly not superstitious (no more so than any other sailor might be, at least), and he's never heard of Loki or his myriad titles, but based on the evidence of his ability to manipulate reality, the lifting of the mirror, the creation of the portal, the banishment of his clothes, it doesn't feel completely off-base to accept that maybe, just maybe, there is something going on here that all of Chris's state-of-the-art science can't quite explain.
Oh, and there's the "thousands of years old" and "traveled through dimensions" thing to consider, too.
Thinking about it makes his brain hurt, so he's going to give that up immediately and instead focus on the here and now, namely, the look Loki gives him as he shoves at his chest with hands sporting the same kind of varnish that Una favors, the prim cadence to his voice wildly out of sync with the heat in his eyes.
Chris grins at him. ] I'm starting to get it, yeah. [ He lets himself be pushed, but not before stealing another heady kiss, as well as bussing one to the soft warmth in Loki's cheek — it's cute! — before collapsing back onto the bed beneath him so he can fully admire the sight that is Loki perched on his hips, shirtless and tousled from Chris's wandering hands, that blue shimmering bracelet on his wrist the only hint of color in an otherwise stark palette. ] I want that too.
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