[ The sounds they're making are positively obscene. The squelching, the slurping, Loki's muffled moans, Chris's un-muffled grunts... As if the sight of Loki on his knees with his eyes watering and his lips stretched wide wasn't pornographic enough, the soundtrack they're providing would make even the most seasoned Orion pleasure-girl blush.
Chris can't help himself; he wants to drag this out forever, but he knows they're on a time crunch, and he's already so close to the edge that this little bit extra is really all it takes for his balls to draw up, tension coiling in his belly that tells him he's close. ]
Ah, I'm — close, baby, I'm gonna —!
[ Any chivalrous ideas he might have had about pulling back and letting Loki decide if he wants Chris to come in his mouth or somewhere else evaporates the moment his eyes lock with Loki's teary green eyes, the desire and acceptance and primal sort of satisfaction in them like a punch to the gut that has his hips jerking as his body tries its damndest to get as deep down Loki's throat as possible. ]
[ He pets the bare skin of thighs as Chris starts to lose himself and urges him closer, a brief glance up taking in the sight of desire unlacing the bonds of duty Chris lays upon himself. Loki's whine as he is dragged in muffles abruptly and he swallows in repeated bursts, the harsh burn of salty come down a frost giant's throat a worthwhile trade-off for being the one to get Chris to such a point.
He's beautiful.
Only once Chris is finished and his quaking hips finish their last needy buck does Loki pull off, resting his forehead against a bare hip. He closes his eyes, cheeks wet and lips swollen, as he catches his breath. ]
[ It feels like it takes forever for him to come back to himself, and when he finally feels like he can manage to draw an unfettered breath and his head is attached to his body, Loki has pulled himself away and nestled his face against Chris's hip, his breath a steady hot puff against his leg and his softening cock.
Stroking his hair with a trembling hand, Chris lets out a lusty huff of a sigh, grateful for the edge of the counter behind him to help him stay standing so he doesn't just slide to the floor. ]
[ Chris ignores the communicator. If it's important, they can try to reach him again in a minute. If it's really important, they can page him directly.
Right now, he has other things on his mind. Things like the shaky way Loki staggers upright, the tent in his pants, the absolute wrecked timbre of his voice. ]
Come here. [ He reaches out to snag that blue shirt, hauling Loki back towards him, one arm snaking around his middle to hold him against his front while the other drops to palm his groin. ]
[ Erk is the super dignified noise that leaves him when yanked back, closely followed by a bitten back whimper with the pressure of Chris's hand. Loki shoves him back against the counter and kisses him by way of an answer, nodding along. Four minutes? He'll be lucky to last that long.
[ That four minutes has to do for Loki to come and for them to clean up and get to their respective shifts, so they really are on a bit of a tight schedule. Luckily, Chris is highly motivated and Loki appears to be highly turned-on, so he thinks they can manage.
Snapping open his pants, Chris unceremoniously slides one hand down the front to curl his hand around Loki's blood-hot cock, already wet and straining, and slips the other down the back to rub a dry fingertip over his hole with just enough pressure to be a promise but not enough to actually do more than catch and drag. ]
If we had the time, I'd bend you over this counter and fuck you right here, [ he rumbles, despite the very obvious fact that he won't be doing much fucking with a soft cock. Whatever. Fantasies don't have to be rooted in reality, it's fine. ] Send you off to your shift all wet and messy, leave you standing at your station trying not to let my come leak down your leg.
[ With any luck whoever keeps chiming the comms won't come looking for them because Loki is unable to manage the volume of his cries, unable to do more than hang onto Chris and ride out his pleasure in competent hands, caught between rocking back onto the promising press of a finger and fucking the circle of a fist. His own precome helps a lot and he can picture the scene being painted for him, pushing his face into the curve of a hot neck as Chris works him toward orgasm. It feels frantic and dirty and so good. ]
You're going to ... ahh, regret saying that l-later.
[ Revenge will be sweet! How long do they have left? Three minutes and thirty seconds? Damn. ]
[ Loki wants so badly to have Chris thinking about him all day, it's really only fair for him to return the favor. Maybe Chris can't shape-shift his ears or make his tongue an extra six inches longer, but what he can do is press his lips to the shell of Loki's ear and let all the filthy, impossible fantasies that have sprung fully-formed into his imagination spill out of his mouth.
The way Loki clings to him and whimpers into his neck just emboldens him, and he twists his wrist on every upward stroke, his fingers tight and sure. ]
Next time I'll paint your face with it, pretty baby. [ He nips at Loki's ear, blunt human teeth catching at the lobe, and soothes it away with a little kiss. ] Would you like that? You swallowed me so well, but I bet you'd look gorgeous dripping.
[ His shift is going to be so long, he already knows, and it's only going to be longer with all this lingering in his memory, but it'll all be worth it. ]
[ It's really not fair that Chris is going to leave for the bridge soon, that's Loki's last thought before he comes bucking wildly into that hand, gasping hard as he ruins the vest Chris is wearing. His high-pitched whine turns into a sob against Chris's neck with a full-bodied shudder to follow, Loki looping his arm around him to stay nestled close.
This is where he wants to be all day, duty and Starfleet be damned. He's overheated and sticky, only okay with it because of who did it to him.
[ The clock is ticking. They don't have time to linger, and yet when Loki bucks in his arms and spurts all over Chris's hand, he does nothing to encourage him to pull away. Instead, he dots light little kisses over what bits of Loki's skin he can reach, leaving his hand tucked down the front of Loki's pants for now.
Just a minute longer. That's all he needs. ]
There you go. Well done, sweet thing. You're so good.
[ With his head resting on Chris's shoulder Loki pets down that broad chest and smears his come over his shirt a little more, only a bit regretful he didn't mess up the gold one. ]
[ Thankfully, Chris has other shirts. He's not really thinking much about that right now, thought, preoccupied by the way Loki cuddles up against him, the arm flung around his shoulders, the head nestled in against his shoulder. ]
I know, baby. I know.
[ Next to no time left. He still doesn't pull away. ]
[ The agreeable grumble he gives comes with a nuzzle, then a kiss to Chris's cheek once he raises his head. The blue shirt is similarly ruined which he's also quite proud of, all the sweet things and babys keep his mood buoyant no matter how annoyed he is. ]
Shall I make us decent? It'll be faster than wasting time moving.
[ He cranes his head back just a little so he can see Lokis face when he lifts his own off of Chris's shoulder, smiling and quirking an eyebrow at him. ]
If you wouldn't mind.
[ He finally pulls his hand free of Loki's pants after giving him a tender little squeeze goodbye. ]
[ The answering shiver that touch gets is the reason Loki clears his throat, visibly shaking his head to focus. He snaps his fingers and his magic races over them like water, green shimmering away the mess and dishevelled clothes to leave them looking prim and proper in their full uniforms.
... Except for Chris's hair. Loki bites his lip as he tries not to laugh, reaching up to brush the tussled strands back. ]
Apparently I can't override just how good you look like this.
[ A small shiver races down his spine in the wake of Loki's magic, his undershirt disappearing and a new one replacing it, overlayed with his gold tunic. He can even feel the film of sweat that had cropped up all over his skiing being wiped away, leaving him feeling as fresh as if he's just stepped out of the sonic shower.
He gives Loki a small, clearly joking frown. ]
Hardly regulation, having my hair like this.
[ He can probably comb it in the turbolift up to the bridge, but there's really no way for him to get it to look as normal without help or at least five minutes in the bathroom. Oh well. The bridge will just have to survive seeing him with flat hair. ]
[ Meanwhile, all the sweat has vanished from Loki's hair which bounces around to frame his face. He steps back to brush imaginary dust off Chris's shoulders, appraising his handiwork; the faint scent of ozone permeates the kitchen, clean and sharp.
The communicator on the other end of the breakfast bar goes off for perhaps the millionth time. ]
Have a good day at work. [ Smooch! ] Don't worry about me, I'll keep myself entertained and busy.
[ Chuckling, Chris shakes his head at Loki's antics, well aware all he's really doing is just encouraging him but being unable to stop himself. He's not fooled: he knows Loki could have fixed his hair, especially considering what his own hair looks like now, but belaboring the point seems rather pointless. He'll let Loki have his fun for now.
Scooping up his communicator and dropping it in his pocket, he runs his fingers through his hair and snags an arm around Loki's waist for another quick kiss and a flat look delivered at point-blank range. ]
[ There's not much else Chris can do or say right now, so with one last lingering look, he turns towards the door and heads out into the corridor, not looking back over his shoulder to see Loki disappearing behind the automatic does even though he wants to. They'll see each other later.
Whatever mischief Loki might get up to — and he's not dumb enough to think there won't be any mischief — it probably won't be too bad, and there are four hundred something other souls on this ship who can deal with it before Chris. It'll be fine.
Looking at his reflection in the turbolift doors, he chuckles and flattens down his hair as best he can, taking a bracing breath and striding out on to the bridge as soon as the doors slide open. ]
Good morning, everyone. [ He gives a little wave and a sheepish kind of smile to his helmsmen, who both turn to look at him, their eyebrows rising at the state of his hair. At least his uniform is tidy. ] Overslept.
[ The first odd thing that reaches the bridge is a report of several admittances to sickbay sharing the same symptoms: hallucinations of a black horse running through the corridors only to disappear at the end, a fox walking over the consoles in engineering (and being petted before it ran away), and a bear roaring in a mess hall over the replicator. All the reports are confident these visions were false, everyone is perfectly fine and M'Benga shoots Spock the report simply so he can relay it to the captain.
It dies down for a couple of hours, after the morning, and most of the crew wonder if they didn't eat something from a dodgy replicator the night before.
Then around three in the afternoon, a space-shark (literally, a shark radiating cosmic energy) starts following the Enterprise. Then another, and more, until around twenty of the great white monsters of the spaceways are trailing in the Enterprise's wake and they work themselves into a frenzy trying to bite at the hull. That ... is a rather more serious issue until shields are turned on and the beasts occasionally ding themselves off it, instead. ]
Chris was in a good mood, jovial and relaxed, cracking jokes with the other members of staff who were nearby, catching up on reports. Perhaps foolishly, he had allowed himself to think that it was going to be a relaxing day and nothing bad would happen — it was ironic that Spock, of all people, kept being the one to remind him not to jinx anything — and then the first report of hallucinations was sent along to his padd.
On its face, there could be any explanations for that. The Enterprise sees many odd things out in space, a horse or a bear might be strange, but was probably ultimately harmless. (The fox he was suspicious about, especially if it allowed people to pet it. He wasn't going to say anything just yet, though, preferring to bide his time until he had more data.)
The space sharks came later. At first, he had thought perhaps it was a gormagander, mistaken by a crewmember who wasn't familiar with the giant cosmozoan on account of how rare they have become, but once the creature that was following them was put up on the view screen, Chris's hopes died. ]
What the hell is that thing?
[ That thing, apparently, is just the first in a whole flock of them, and it isn't long before they have to put shields up to protect the nacelles from being devoured by fucking space sharks.
[ The sharks swarm from one area of the ship to the other, attacking along the route they follow. Loki is there, wandering the ship, oblivious to the sharks having caught his scent, and in the guise of Lieutenant Lukas having a fun day faffing about with a far less focused work ethic than in previous days.
The largest shark is over a hundred feet long and bullies the smaller ones aside, looming over the ship where it glides with a dead-eyed gaze. ]
[ No one on the bridge has ever seen anything like this before, and once scans definitely indicated that the creatures were not, in fact, endangered space whales, suggestions were lobbied back and forth as to what to do about it. It was hard to argue that they should indiscriminately fire to kill...whatever those things are, considering that most of them were just tailing them more or less harmlessly, but the fact that Chris had followed La'an's suggestion for yellow alert with alacrity sort of undercut that assessment. ]
Ortegas. [ Erica's dark eyes snap back to him, waiting to hear what he wants her to do. ] See if you can disable that big one. I'd rather not kill any of them if we don't have to, but I'd also prefer them not take a bite out of my ship.
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Chris can't help himself; he wants to drag this out forever, but he knows they're on a time crunch, and he's already so close to the edge that this little bit extra is really all it takes for his balls to draw up, tension coiling in his belly that tells him he's close. ]
Ah, I'm — close, baby, I'm gonna —!
[ Any chivalrous ideas he might have had about pulling back and letting Loki decide if he wants Chris to come in his mouth or somewhere else evaporates the moment his eyes lock with Loki's teary green eyes, the desire and acceptance and primal sort of satisfaction in them like a punch to the gut that has his hips jerking as his body tries its damndest to get as deep down Loki's throat as possible. ]
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He's beautiful.
Only once Chris is finished and his quaking hips finish their last needy buck does Loki pull off, resting his forehead against a bare hip. He closes his eyes, cheeks wet and lips swollen, as he catches his breath. ]
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Stroking his hair with a trembling hand, Chris lets out a lusty huff of a sigh, grateful for the edge of the counter behind him to help him stay standing so he doesn't just slide to the floor. ]
Loki.
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[ The beep of a communicator makes Loki groan and not in any lustful manner, lightly thumping his head against Chris's side. ]
I'm ... I can't be hard right now, not where people can see.
[ Yikes, his voice. Loki creakily gets to his feet, obviously hard and flustered. He pulls away and turns around, shaking out his hands. ]
I need to, uh ... oh, boy.
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Right now, he has other things on his mind. Things like the shaky way Loki staggers upright, the tent in his pants, the absolute wrecked timbre of his voice. ]
Come here. [ He reaches out to snag that blue shirt, hauling Loki back towards him, one arm snaking around his middle to hold him against his front while the other drops to palm his groin. ]
We have... four minutes. Think you can do it?
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Chris's hair is the first casualty. ]
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Snapping open his pants, Chris unceremoniously slides one hand down the front to curl his hand around Loki's blood-hot cock, already wet and straining, and slips the other down the back to rub a dry fingertip over his hole with just enough pressure to be a promise but not enough to actually do more than catch and drag. ]
If we had the time, I'd bend you over this counter and fuck you right here, [ he rumbles, despite the very obvious fact that he won't be doing much fucking with a soft cock. Whatever. Fantasies don't have to be rooted in reality, it's fine. ] Send you off to your shift all wet and messy, leave you standing at your station trying not to let my come leak down your leg.
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You're going to ... ahh, regret saying that l-later.
[ Revenge will be sweet! How long do they have left? Three minutes and thirty seconds? Damn. ]
Promise to fuck me tonight.
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The way Loki clings to him and whimpers into his neck just emboldens him, and he twists his wrist on every upward stroke, his fingers tight and sure. ]
Next time I'll paint your face with it, pretty baby. [ He nips at Loki's ear, blunt human teeth catching at the lobe, and soothes it away with a little kiss. ] Would you like that? You swallowed me so well, but I bet you'd look gorgeous dripping.
[ His shift is going to be so long, he already knows, and it's only going to be longer with all this lingering in his memory, but it'll all be worth it. ]
I promise. As soon as you come home.
[ Home, like he lives here. ]
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This is where he wants to be all day, duty and Starfleet be damned. He's overheated and sticky, only okay with it because of who did it to him.
Home, Chris says, and Loki nods in exhaustion. ]
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Just a minute longer. That's all he needs. ]
There you go. Well done, sweet thing. You're so good.
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I don't want you to go ...
[ One clingy god: that's Chris's problem now. ]
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I know, baby. I know.
[ Next to no time left. He still doesn't pull away. ]
I have to.
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Shall I make us decent? It'll be faster than wasting time moving.
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If you wouldn't mind.
[ He finally pulls his hand free of Loki's pants after giving him a tender little squeeze goodbye. ]
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... Except for Chris's hair. Loki bites his lip as he tries not to laugh, reaching up to brush the tussled strands back. ]
Apparently I can't override just how good you look like this.
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He gives Loki a small, clearly joking frown. ]
Hardly regulation, having my hair like this.
[ He can probably comb it in the turbolift up to the bridge, but there's really no way for him to get it to look as normal without help or at least five minutes in the bathroom. Oh well. The bridge will just have to survive seeing him with flat hair. ]
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The communicator on the other end of the breakfast bar goes off for perhaps the millionth time. ]
Have a good day at work. [ Smooch! ] Don't worry about me, I'll keep myself entertained and busy.
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Scooping up his communicator and dropping it in his pocket, he runs his fingers through his hair and snags an arm around Loki's waist for another quick kiss and a flat look delivered at point-blank range. ]
Be good.
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Of course. I'm a lieutenant with responsibilities, didn't you know?
[ The biggest green eyes bat their lashes innocently. He pats Chris on the chest and gives him a gentle push. ]
Go, be gallant and heroic. I'll meet you later!
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Whatever mischief Loki might get up to — and he's not dumb enough to think there won't be any mischief — it probably won't be too bad, and there are four hundred something other souls on this ship who can deal with it before Chris. It'll be fine.
Looking at his reflection in the turbolift doors, he chuckles and flattens down his hair as best he can, taking a bracing breath and striding out on to the bridge as soon as the doors slide open. ]
Good morning, everyone. [ He gives a little wave and a sheepish kind of smile to his helmsmen, who both turn to look at him, their eyebrows rising at the state of his hair. At least his uniform is tidy. ] Overslept.
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It dies down for a couple of hours, after the morning, and most of the crew wonder if they didn't eat something from a dodgy replicator the night before.
Then around three in the afternoon, a space-shark (literally, a shark radiating cosmic energy) starts following the Enterprise. Then another, and more, until around twenty of the great white monsters of the spaceways are trailing in the Enterprise's wake and they work themselves into a frenzy trying to bite at the hull. That ... is a rather more serious issue until shields are turned on and the beasts occasionally ding themselves off it, instead. ]
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Chris was in a good mood, jovial and relaxed, cracking jokes with the other members of staff who were nearby, catching up on reports. Perhaps foolishly, he had allowed himself to think that it was going to be a relaxing day and nothing bad would happen — it was ironic that Spock, of all people, kept being the one to remind him not to jinx anything — and then the first report of hallucinations was sent along to his padd.
On its face, there could be any explanations for that. The Enterprise sees many odd things out in space, a horse or a bear might be strange, but was probably ultimately harmless. (The fox he was suspicious about, especially if it allowed people to pet it. He wasn't going to say anything just yet, though, preferring to bide his time until he had more data.)
The space sharks came later. At first, he had thought perhaps it was a gormagander, mistaken by a crewmember who wasn't familiar with the giant cosmozoan on account of how rare they have become, but once the creature that was following them was put up on the view screen, Chris's hopes died. ]
What the hell is that thing?
[ That thing, apparently, is just the first in a whole flock of them, and it isn't long before they have to put shields up to protect the nacelles from being devoured by fucking space sharks.
Space sharks. ]
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The largest shark is over a hundred feet long and bullies the smaller ones aside, looming over the ship where it glides with a dead-eyed gaze. ]
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Ortegas. [ Erica's dark eyes snap back to him, waiting to hear what he wants her to do. ] See if you can disable that big one. I'd rather not kill any of them if we don't have to, but I'd also prefer them not take a bite out of my ship.
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