beworthy: (39)
Thor Odinson ([personal profile] beworthy) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet 2012-11-26 12:37 am (UTC)

[ Then let mortals and gods alike know that life, that joy and generosity and love, are as precious as they are fleeting; that the dark valleys of sorrow make the bright peaks of happiness all the more golden and beautiful. The winter sang to him of this, the first night they lay together, and Thor did not understand it then. He did not understand it in the years they passed together, in summer first and then in winter; he learned it at last the night he kissed Loki farewell and walked away from his realm heavy with his children. Then he knew what grief was, and a pain so piercing that only the memory of his greatest love could sustain him.

And if it is selfishness to love his lord of winter more than he does anything else--if, when the chance to have him again is put within his reach, it is selfishness to grasp him with both hands and vow never to let go, then let him be selfish. Let all the world be bound by the love between them.

He hushes Loki with his mouth, strength and tenderness in the hands which hold him, and a swelling of desire in all his body which holds his beloved pinned to the wall of this hut which has been his only solace for long seasons. He will not take him back to the greenwood palace, not yet. Let them have this small hidden place all to themselves, let them live in the unspoiled joy of reunion for as long as they might before the rest of the world intrudes; only then will Thor go back with him, hand in hand, not merely as lovers this time but as consorts, as sovereigns together. ]


Does this warm you? [ A kiss and a kiss again, his voice murmuring and rough with wanting. ] My mouth upon you? My touch?

[ He pulls open the plain fur shift which hides Loki's body from him, lets it slip to the ground to be discarded and forgotten; only his hands, his body, the sheets of his bed to cover Loki's nakedness now. Oh, pale and thin and hungry, his beloved lord of winter: how he has starved and suffered, how cruelly he has used himself in the years since their parting; Thor's hands are warm upon him, smoothing over his skin as though his touch might heal all pain.

Then he goes to his knees before him, kissing his hip, taking his cock in hand and bringing it to his mouth to taste. His lips and tongue play at the tip, soft and teasing, flirting, stroking, slow wetness and heat lathed at the crown of sweet arousal. ]

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