bakerstreet | Aftercare Meme

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Aftercare Meme

THE AFTERCARE MEME

Sexual play can be intense. It can be emotional - it can be exhausting. It's essential to take time after to reaffirm, cuddle and comfort, apply any first aid, and relax.

PROMPTS:
1: ROUTINE. This is how you always do it; maybe it's complicated, maybe it's simple, but it has the comfort of ritual.
2: BROKEN. You're proud, you're confident, you're cocky, but this has cracked through the shell and left you open and needing.
3: SUB DROP. Withdrawal from the endorphins leaves you exhausted and unhappy. Someone needs to help with that.
4: DOM DROP. Dominating has really taken it out of you - maybe it's the submissive's turn to give some comfort.
5: SAFEWORD. You got interrupted in the middle: everything became too much, and someone used the safeword. Time to talk it out.
6: NONE. Your lover is cruel, and doesn't give you the aftercare you need.
7: WITH SOMEONE ELSE. You seek your comfort and your affirmation from someone besides your lover.
8: FIRST TIME. You've never done this before. The experience, the sensations - it's all new, and it leaves you all the more disoriented.
9: SECOND ROUND. Time for another go?
10: WILD CARD. For everything else!

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And honestly, Steve was right to worry about that, with the results of just that sort of behavior sitting with him right then.

His fingers twitched faintly at the initial protest, but when he felt Steve press against his fingers instead of retreating, he relaxed again, threading his fingers lightly through his hair again in response. Something about the situation just... driving a want to touch. Nothing sexual, not really, but a bit more intimate than the more casual sort of contact he used around Steve generally. More affection there too, not that he'd say as much except to chalk it up to his current state if called on it.

"Well I don't see why not, could be fun."

And, oh, that simple touch feels better than it should. Not in a sexual way, but in a subtle, reassuring way that makes him ache for a moment. He closes his eyes briefly, but probably long enough for Loki to read wistfulness in his expression. He should probably move, finish up the treatment of those bruises. He's almost done. He's extremely disinclined to move while he's being stroked, though.

"It might be a little boring, posing," he murmurs, "but we can play music or something so you're not too restless. I don't need a long sitting; just enough to get the lines right."

"Glad you don't mind. Some people get self-conscious."

Oh, Loki sees that. And he can relate, for all he likes to come across as the lone wolf. But in reality he craved the company of others, especially in moments like this, with contact, warm skin and quiet affection. So for the moment, his fingers kept moving, continued stroking through Steve's hair for the moment. Loki knew that he'd want to finish tending his back sooner than later, but it wasn't like he was bleeding. A few minutes pause for this was okay right?

"So long as I don't have to be quiet along with still, we'll be alright there's not going to be any need for you to rush things." A small amused curl to the smile he wore for the moment as he tilted his head thoughtfully. "Unless I decide you need some gesture practice and shift. You've drawn foxes before right?"

As long as he doesn't get Steve too distracted. His lips curl into a faint smile as Loki continues ruffling his hair. What the hell are they doing here, exactly? He wonders, and decides he doesn't care at the moment. They can figure it out later. The point is, Loki needs comfort and so does Steve, in maybe a lesser way, and they can both get a little of it in this moment, with one another.

He opens his eyes gradually as the other man continues speaking, giving him a calm, slightly-drowsy look before snapping out of it with a chuckle. Loki's smile seems wan still, but far less strained. That's a good sign. "You're going to turn into a fox while I'm drawing you? That sounds like a hell of a challenge."

He'd be lying if he pretended he wasn't curious, though. "I like foxes. Especially grey foxes. Do you actually completely change shape? It's not an illusion?"

Don't ask that question Steve. Clearly they both want and need affection. For their own reasons to be sure, but Loki sees nothing wrong with indulging in that desire here. Nothing big, nothing pushing too much, just... a light touch and that small smile. It was a start.

He wasn't back to normal, but Steve's efforts were paying off.

"Oh no illusions, not for that. I've a few forms I can actually shift into, things that are... me. If it's not me, I can't make it work, but then that's when illusion comes into play. But foxes? Those are easy."

"How do you know...what is and isn't you?" Steve's brow creases, because it has, thus far tonight, sounded like Loki is having something of an existential crisis to begin with. Maybe he shouldn't ask it that way, though.

"I mean, do you just know, or do you try things and stick with what feels right? Maybe you can't even answer that in a way I can understand, I don't know." He gives him a sheepish smile and disentangles himself gently to finish up with treating his wounds. Now he's on his lower back and moving around to the whip marks (he assumes those are whip marks) along his flank. He's starting to want to just wrap this guy in cotton wool and give him tea until he's all better.

"Foxes are cute, though," he adds. "What else is in your repertoire?"

Pausing at the small of his back, Steve notes some of the ends of the bruises seem to go further down still, vanishing beneath the fabric of his clothes. He rests his hand on his hip pensively, trying to decide how to ask if Loki needs further tending. It'd make sense to focus blows on the rear and upper thighs, too, but Steve's not sure he has the chutzpah required to insist that a god drop trou for him.

Oh, if only Steve knew the whole of it. But as it was, Loki didn't seem bothered.

"Some of it is... instinct. A draw, kind of like how a compass points north, my body knows the shape it should be." He considered what he was saying, trying to explain it in ways that someone who had no basis in magic could understand. "Beyond that, it's like... well, trying on clothing. Some will fit, but it doesn't look good, or it just doesn't suit you. Some is too big, some too small. Some things fit just right though, and when you take a look you know that it's right. Feels comfortable."

A faint noise of amusement, brows lifting slightly as he gestured idly with a hand. "The clothes thing works further. Things that used to fit you might not anymore. Scorpions don't fit as well anymore for one. Snakes do though. The most common shapes that work for me as I am though... would be me as you see, me as a woman, a fox, a horse and a snake. Other things tend to... depend on a lot of variables."

Like the magpie. Or his Jotun form. Both fit, both fit well, and in both cases the baggage attached made him... uneasy to be them.

"For example I don't do insects."

It was unlikely that the flexible marks had been from a whip- the force used would guarantee he was left bleeding if that were the case, instead of the angry-looking welts and bruising. And he certainly could feel the shift in Steve's touch, the pause of fingers on his back. Pretending he didn't know why he'd paused, just peering over his shoulder with an innocently curious expression.

"Everything alright back there?"

Oddly, that makes some sense to him, although Steve is inclined to interpret it more in terms of training and muscle memory. Once you've practiced a punch or another move long enough, your body remembers how it's meant to feel. Although, he has a little lingering disconnect with the shape of his body now versus the shape it naturally was before the super-serum. Sometimes he still feels a mild shock when he looks in the mirror and sees a reflection far taller and broader than he expects. Maybe that's why he's wondering how Loki manages it. With multiple shapes and the ability to switch between them rapidly, how does he still feel like himself all the time? Steve's not sure he wouldn't go crazy.

He realizes the questions coming up have a lot more to do with him than Loki. Steve can't shapeshift; someone else did that for him. It just didn't occur to him there would be this many side effects.

"I don't like scorpions anyway," he says lightly. "Too much like spiders. The others sound okay."

Granted, he's a little unsure what to make of the idea of Loki as a woman. He has a very distinct mental image already and has to shake his head to push it to the back of his brain, particularly under the circumstances. And when he glances up, he finds he's not 100% convinced by that innocent expression. His lips quirk briefly, but then he sobers.

"How much further down are you banged up? At the risk of sounding like a creep, I think you better let me take care of the rest, too. I'll get you a cup of cocoa or something first, if you want."

Oh Steve. There were plenty who would argue that Loki was insane, and there were times when he honestly couldn't say if he didn't disagree.

And if he wanted to see Loki as a woman, all he had to do was ask. Or wait until Loki thought the shift would get the most fun reaction. Or just felt more herself one day.

"Honestly, I don't think you could sound like a creep if you tried. You'd start apologizing and try making amends before you finished even one unsettling stare." And no matter Steve's worries, Loki wasn't too shy or modest. Just offering a small, careful shrug as he shifted himself up a bit so he could get jeans unfastened and with a small bit of struggle when he had to lean a bit more, got them pulled off and dropped with his shirt.

Nothing there looked good either, though whoever it had been administering the beating had given up on whatever had delivered the straight, steady blows and gone exclusively with the other implement judging from the way all of the stripes from hips to the backs of knees seemed to curl around. With a faint huff of breath, Loki carefully set the sketchbook to one side before easing himself down again, on his front this time before shooting Steve a small, almost coy smile.

"But if this was all a ploy to get into my pants, there are easier ways." Was someone pretending he was better off than he really was? Maybe.

Okay, without a doubt.

Steve wouldn't know how to gauge sanity in a being like Loki, ultimately. He seems unhealthy at the moment, for certain, but real madness is something more than this quiet self-destruction. Isn't it?

He gives a soft huff of amusement. "Maybe I sound like a creep to myself before I sound like a creep to anyone else, and I'm just good at correcting course." (Asking to see Loki's female form, he thinks, would absolutely be creepy).

He moves back a little to give him space, adding more witch hazel to the gauze. He also casts about for a pillow for him, setting it by the couch so he can rest it under his head if he wants. And he finds, despite the awareness that he's got a mostly-naked person on his couch, it's easy to focus on the wounds. They seem no worse than the ones on his back, but no lighter, either, and he meets Loki's little smile with a look of open concern.

...which immediately gets derailed by that comment. He turns from pink to red over the course of about twenty seconds, opens his mouth to protest, then realizes he's got nothing to say. He manages to scrounge up enough aplomb to give Loki a dry glare that he doesn't entirely mean, and goes about tending the injuries at knee level, with the intention of working his way up once he's less flustered.

Loki could tell Steve with good authority that true madness, at least for him? Was absolutely more. So much more. Terrifying instead of sad.

"Somehow I highly doubt it." Steve just admit you're too nice to be creepy. Loki doubts he could even make asking to see his female form creepy that's how anti-creep Steve is.

And Loki is trying to pretend not to notice that concern. He knows full well why Steve's looking at him like that, knows that the backs of thighs and knees are infinitely more sensitive than his back, that the lack of any variation in intensity didn't bode well. (In fact it looked like whoever it was really put his back into it at that point. Not that Loki would confirm or deny that, not when he knew Steve was already so concerned.)

Which meant he was glad to see the flustered response that his commentary got, the slight distraction from Steve's focus and concern. And the way he reddened had his smile widening a bit, only to barely hold back a huff of laughter at the glare turned his way.

"Well it's true..."

If he allowed his mind to wonder on the topic, Steve might start drawing parallels between the Loki of this world and the Red Skull, and maybe to the potential future of this Loki before him. Burning...? That train of thought would go nowhere good.

Instead, he applies the witch hazel carefully and attempts to get his blushing under control. "You must be feeling better if you're teasing me," he manages after a moment.

He thinks he knows why he's doing it, too. It's a handy way to deflect Steve's worry. He can't entirely blame him. "But if you're gonna be that way...look, promise you'll keep coming to me for aftercare if you end up doing this again? This is...I want to fix it and I know I can't, but at least don't suffer alone, okay?"

It was... a frightening future to be sure. He was nothing if not terrified of the future, of what it held for him, but here and now he didn't feel he was even remotely ready to try and handle any of it.

"It doesn't hurt that you fluster so easily." Pretending like they both didn't know the underlying reason for the teasing this time, the way he was trying to avoid that concern, the worry he didn't feel worthy of.

But of course, Steve was too stubborn to let up on something like that, wasn't he?

"I suppose I can do that." Mumbled against an arm more than anything, trying to pretend like he wasn't confused by Steve's stubborn insistence on helping him through this.

"Yeah, yeah," he says in a long-suffering tone that isn't entirely faked. "Everyone wants to embarrass the guy with the early-20th-century sensibilities. I understand."

He seems to relax a little at the acquiescence to his suggestion, and goes quiet while working up the backs of his thighs. The blush is fading, but not by a whole lot, and it's slow going because Steve is old, not dead. He doesn't know what to do with so many feelings, and sometimes his hero complex gets in the way of him recognizing a genuine attachment to someone.

But probably, he thinks after a good two minutes of quiet, Loki deserves better than to think Steve just wants him around so he can fix him. It takes him a moment to steel himself, resting a palm on his mid-back in the least-bruised place he can find. "Just in case you're not just harassing me..."

Yeah, no, this is probably a bad moment for a serious 'wait, do you actually like me, like me?' discussion. He tries to start over, "I don't get much time to socialize outside work. It's kind of a safety risk, for anyone I might get close to, so I guess you're my social life. Congratulations? Just don't stop coming around, whatever else you want with me. You drive me up the wall in the best way possible."

"Oh don't worry, I like embarrassing you more because you get extra cute when you blush, not because of your old-school sensibilities." But those were fun to poke at sometimes too.

For the moment though he seems willing to let up, both to let Steve focus on what he's doing, and to try and settle some himself. He knew it would take a bit to feel more himself at this point, but with the other's help it was... not as unpleasant a thing as it normally tended to be.

"So my prize for having next to no semblance of propriety when it comes to bothering others is free reign to bother you in the future?" He let out a quiet hum as if pondering the idea, but honestly it did please him. He... didn't have friends. He used to have a friend back home, used to have Thor, but then... well, if neither wanted him around anymore he couldn't blame him. "Given you're about the long and short of my social life too, you don't have to worry about getting too much peace and quiet."

Steve actually grins a little at being told he's cute when he blushes. That's actually not the first time he's heard it, although usually it's women who tell him that. In the emotionally charged atmosphere, it's a pretty safe quip.

As he finishes up the last of the application of witch hazel, he tugs the throw blanket closer and drapes it carefully over Loki, covering him up from knees to just below his shoulders. "Well," he says sheepishly, pushing his own hair out of his face, "If any of the Avengers' enemies come after you, you ought to be able to hold your own or at least dodge them neatly, so that's a load off my mind. So as long as you don't stroll nonchalantly into the middle of a battle and give me a heart attack, we're probably good."

Feeling like he's on slightly firmer ground now, he rests his hand on Loki's elbow and squeezes gently. "Hungry at all? You should probably eat or drink something. I can make tea or cocoa, and we always have fruit and cookies around."

Loki offered a faint smile as he drew the blanket in a bit more to burrow under it, letting out a quiet huff of amusement at Steve's comment. "I promise, if I wanted to give you a heart attack there are much more enjoyable ways for me to accomplish that, for the both of us."

He considered Steve's offer, brows lifting slightly as he lifted a finger.

"I do believe I was already promised cocoa." Sure he hadn't said yes or no, but now? It did sound good, and he knew that Steve was right, that getting something into him would help. "If you would be so kind."

That quip, he wasn't quite prepared for, and he makes a small, startled noise, then shakes his head, ears pink. He's willing to put up with this level of teasing for the moment; it's a clear indication Loki's feeling better. That, and it's a little flattering, even if he's not convinced he means a word of it. "Well. We can, uh, discuss that later."

He stands, nodding. "I'll have to run to the kitchen for it. Will you be okay for a few minutes? You should rest some more."

"...and do you want marshmallows in it?" That's almost a rhetorical question. Who doesn't want marshmallows in their cocoa?

Oh Steve, someday he'll learn how to tell when Loki is being serious even through irreverent teasing. As it was, Loki was at least able to act like he was feeling better, which was an important step, at least in his mind. "Of course Steve."

Absolutely a rhetorical question, Rogers. Marshmallows and cocoa are just meant to go together. It's fate.

"I absolutely want marshmallows in it." Said with a sage nod as he shifted to relax a bit further, seeming willing for the moment to stay put and rest. It was just questionable if that would last long.

That day may be a while coming, but it sounds like he's willing to give them both the opportunity. He fusses with the blanket a little before he goes, more or less tucking Loki in. He may be a super-soldier, but he can mother hen with the best of them.

He leaves the door slightly ajar when he goes; he's not worried about anyone wandering into his room and freaking out about a mostly-naked godling on his couch. The only person who'd enter without knocking is Vision, and Vision doesn't freak out about anything. He's just as glad not to encounter anyone in the kitchen, though. He doesn't want to have to tell them any details about what's going on, for Loki's sake more than his own, and he's not completely sure he trusts his own poker face right now.

He returns within fifteen minutes, carrying two cups of cocoa, made the right way. Steve heats milk on the stove and then adds the cocoa powder and sugar as it heats, stirring until it's nicely blended. It's one of the few things he can cook well enough that people ask him to make it for them. He's a little dangerous in the kitchen otherwise.

He's also brought a couple shortbread cookies and a little bowl of strawberries, just in case Loki needs more solid nourishment. There's a thick layer of marshmallow on the top of both cups.

He was having fun, and besides, he didn't want to break his friend. Just... tease the hell out of him. It was all in good fun though.

And there wasn't a pleased little noise at the extra care being taken in making sure he was comfortable on Steve's part, that was just nonsense. Except it was, and he really did like the fussing, at least for the moment. Luckily it seemed that he was left to his own devices, that no one was coming looking for Steve, so instead Loki was able to just curl up a bit, the warmth of the blanket tucked over him starting to sink in a bit, leaving things... a bit fuzzy around the edges, much better than the sharp contrasts he'd started with.

Giving Steve a crooked grin when he returned, somehow not surprised that he'd brought more than cocoa, and at the same time pleased by the care it suggested.

"My hero."

Steve nudges the door closed behind him with his foot, relieved to see Loki right where he left him. He wouldn't have put it past him to slip away in the interim, for whatever reason, but here he is, and looking pretty comfortable. If you ignore the bruises, it's almost a domestic scene, almost bordering on romantic.

He laughs a little at the greeting, shaking his head, but the smile he gives Loki suggests he's legitimately pleased. It would be a nice world to live in if all it took to get credit for heroism was making a snack for a friend.

He sets the tray on the floor, within reach, and takes up station by it, sitting with his back against the couch near Loki's shoulder and stretching his legs out in front of him. "You may as well stay the night," he says. "It's half over anyway."

It wasn't like he hadn't considered it. He always considered the contrary move, even if it wasn't what he would actually want to do, even if it was a bad choice. It came with being who he was. But he'd rather stay.

And don't mind him Steve, but that'll be one arm absently slinging around your front fingers hooking against his shoulders. Loki just... needs the contact still.

"A sleepover? I think your hair's a bit short to have a braiding party, but we'll make it work."

"Your hair might be long enough to braid," he fires back easily, and settles a little further back to give him space to hold onto him better. Steve is more than willing to be an oversized Midgardian teddy bear for his guest. "Are we supposed to gossip about boys or something?"

"Actually, do you want to sleep, or should I fire up the laptop and put something on to watch or listen to?" For whatever reason, Steve does not own a television. He has a radio and an ipod, but any visual media he wants he obtains on the computer, and if he wants news, he'll get himself a newspaper.

And hopefully Loki didn't think he wasn't going to have to share a little of his snack, because Steve can't resist stealing a strawberry.

"It is indeed, but if you're that desperate to play with it all you had to do was say so Steve." Said in a mildly amused tone as he settled a bit more comfortably hanging onto the man when he'd leaned closer. Yes, this here was good. "Gossip about boys and paint each other's nails."

For the moment Loki is okay with sharing the snacks, if only because he was more focused on snagging one of the cookies. When he starts in on the fruit, then there might be some squabbling.

"Go ahead and start up a movie. Dealer's choice." He felt wide awake, but at the same time he knew that he probably wouldn't last long once he'd settled for long enough. And this was miles better than finally crashing while sitting on the bathroom floor or something.

Aftercare Meme

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