What They Do.

Disadvantage

Loki does enjoy it. Bodily he does. And how could he not? What they do is a most penetrating
and forceful push into his very inborn lusts. How could anyone not enjoy or even resist it? It isn't
his fault. Thor hustles him into it and doesn't really leave him any choice.
But still there is that guilty shame. He keeps telling himself this was the last time. But it never is.
Loki is not to move an inch when they do it. Which is extremely exhausting. This is one point
which always forbids him to give in completely. But Thor doesn't like him bucking his hips into
his face. Once he got really angry and bit him. Loki lost a yell at this so loud that Fandral made
jokes of him the morning after. What in All Nine he did would he ask. Would everyone ask.
"I got hurt in a kind of accident“, Loki said. And when he didn't want to show the wound which
had made him squeal like a stabbed swine they assumed that it must sit in a pretty explicit place
and laughed at him. Thor laughed, too.
Loki didn't want to let Thor suck him ever again then. But he found that he wasn't able to reject
his brother. He wanted so bad to make at least a point, though: "You want me not to move. Good.
Then don't make me beg for it." But he remained silent. He'd have to admit then how needy he
melted in Thors touch. And when he remembered that what they do was a sexual experience for
him alone he felt the shame again. So he started to push himself to severe self control and tried to
learn how to bear his brothers agonizingly slow tongue without losing his mind.
However, total self-control is a lesson Loki has not yet perfectly mastered.
Thor is in his lap again. Loki sits in his armchair like he did the first time, his back relaxed but his
hands cramping into the armrests. Thor doesn't kneel on the floor now. He's got himself a stool.
Bent forward and neck stretched the left side of his face weighs upon his brothers upper leg. Lokis
head is leaning back, facing the ceiling. For midday is bright he could beautifully watch. But he
never does. This time he wants to come silently. No sound shall make its way out of his throat. All unaffected
and above it. Only once Loki wants to be the one who doesn't need this. When they got used to it
Loki knew that he would always be at a disadvantage. Thor may want it but he could stop at any
point. Loki could not.
He tries so bad to kill off even tiniest sighs with slugging them down that he doesn't realize when
he starts to hold his breath. As his head gets heavy he closes his eyes and doesn't notice how dizzy
he really feels. That fire crawling up his stomach makes him dim with sweat. He pulses angrily in
his brothers mouth. But he knows he'll be done soon, he'll be done all quiet and dignified.
And then Thors teeth brush hard across that cursed vein Loki always knew as one of his softest
spots. A flash of whitehot appetite jerks through his loins and up his spine. He cannot keep his
chest from rearing up. Abruptly he feels his lungs ache so bad that he needs to pant for air. That
sweetly painful gasp breaking out of him ruins every torturing second of reservation he managed
to pull through so far.
Failed.
As he looks down into the peaceful face of his brother he wants to slap it. Thor doesn't even seem
to notice how he struggles under his touch.
Suddenly he feels the heavy urge to vomit as his eyes focus on the point where his sore hard
length disappears in Thors red and swollen lips. They glisten with spittle as they cozily slip around
his overstrained skin. Up. Down. So very slightly up and down. One time he glimpses the tip of
Thors tongue slip out from under his lower lip. And that sight shoots his pulse up to race in his
temples. The sounds are suddenly too much.
Loki lets his head fall back again, his neck too weak to support it. He gives up trying to be still
and soughs in fierce resignation, every breath a liberated sound. This letting go is finally enough.
It is as it always is with Thor; Loki will never be the stronger one.