[ Somehow, in a peculiar dance of want and violence, they end up with Loki's back against the back of the truck. His lips are kiss-swollen, bitten, perhaps bleeding, or perhaps he's tasting Thor's blood from where he bit.
His fingers fumble and undo the twisted lock on the back of the trunk cover, knocking that open and pulling the back of the bed down. Hoists himself back on it and wraps his legs around Thor's hips. Soaked to the skin with rain, soaked to the bone with want for his brother.
Here, a moment of tenderness. He did not realize how badly he wanted this until it was too late, and now he presses his face in Thor's shoulder and wraps his arm around the back of Thor's neck and shivers, from the cold of the rain and from his own sentiment. ]
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His fingers fumble and undo the twisted lock on the back of the trunk cover, knocking that open and pulling the back of the bed down. Hoists himself back on it and wraps his legs around Thor's hips. Soaked to the skin with rain, soaked to the bone with want for his brother.
Here, a moment of tenderness. He did not realize how badly he wanted this until it was too late, and now he presses his face in Thor's shoulder and wraps his arm around the back of Thor's neck and shivers, from the cold of the rain and from his own sentiment. ]