[With a sharp breath of relief at the permission, Loki's left hand reaches up to grab desperately at Paul's arm like it was an anchor to reality. Pretty wasn't something Loki ascribed to himself but that didn't stop the flush of heat at the praise or the way Loki watched from under his lashes as Paul removes the glove.
His free hand drifts down Paul's shirt covered stomach, fingertips dreaming of the gentle washboard underneath and dares to reach further down so he could wrap his fingers around Paul's cock, more than pleased with what he found. He knew he was going to have to shift - arching a back doesn't do great things for access to his ass, but he had no doubts Paul would correct that too.]
All yours baby, [He murmurs, lips pulling in a passing little smirk.] All yours.
[Maybe he always had been. Maybe he was okay with that as long as Paul was around to remind him.]
[ Loki grabs his arm and touches his cock and Paul's breath hitches, the rise and fall of his chest picking up rapidly as Loki touches his cock. He's always been eerily quiet but it's almost impossible not to murmur his approval, stoic features softening in spite of himself. It's been too long, and it's Loki that's doing the touching, and fuck.
He can't quite feel the hand on his arm, just like he's purposefully keeping his shirt on, partially because he gets a personal thrill out of this sort of control and partly because it means Loki cant see his steel healing injuries. But Loki is grabbing at him and Loki is smirking at him and Paul can't help but match his facial expression.
He lets go of Loki entirely to grab at his hips and shove, roughly positioning him by the waist. There's just enough room for Loki to shift, as cramped as it is, and Paul has no problems lifting his non gloved hand to Loki's lips, pressing them open and forcing Loki to take them obediently. He knows how to suck. He's always been good at it, In Paul's experience. ]
[Paul was fucking stunning. Loki felt like his breath was hooked on those eases in his friend's face, the cave to pleasure, the murmur of approval that sent a whole new thrill through him, the submission to the fact that fuck this feels fantastic, that they feel better than good together. There was some part of him that would always be 16 years old and desperately in love with Paul without really knowing what that meant.
Paul shoves and pulls and Loki shifts with him, even if means begrudgingly pulling his hands from Paul's cock, and he's feeling breathless and whore-y and just as needy as he's been accused of being. His hands scramble out to help support the shift in his weight, legs spreading and also lightly hooking around the back of Paul's thighs as he prepares himself for what's coming.
Which didn't exactly include the fingers, but there was no hesitation in the way Loki opened his mouth and sucked on those fingers like it was Paul's cock, almost drunk on the taste of salt and skin sinking into his mouth. Whatever Paul wanted; let Loki show him what he wanted to do.]
[ Probably he shouldn't be so fascinated with this, with the way Loki's driven to pure supplication, the way the other turns Paul on more than is probably healthy. There's a temptation to remove his fingers immediately and kiss him that he manages to holds in check, instead murmuring his approval as Loki knows exactly what to do.
Paul waits until the other finds his balance--it doesn't take long, but it gives Paul the chance to nuzzle the other's shoulder, graze his teeth along the other's ink--before he removes that hand from the other's mouth and lowers it.
Loki looks incredible as Paul slides a finger into him, working him only long enough to make sure he won't tear anything. He pulls out and hastily spits at an attempt at lube, making a mental note to purchase some for the next time, if there will be a next time, because fuck, as he guides and slides himself into Loki for the first time in over a decade feels spiritually divine and he doesn't want to let this go.
He finally kisses Loki, moaning softly into the kiss as he buries himself inside the other and gives them both enough time to adjust. ]
[Loki loved the way Paul was invading his space, humming around the fingers he was dedicatedly sucking and wetting at the scrape of teeth against him, hips shifting a little for what he hoped knew was coming. Loki gasps a little as the fingers are removed, letting the breath out with a soft growl, head rolling back as Paul starts stretching him out.
How long had it been? How long had it been since Loki let anyone touch him, much less felt Paul between his legs? It was hard to say. Years at the very least, years of Loki masturbating in the shower, chasing the physical release with none of the mental stimulation that drove those needs so well.]
Fuck- [He groans out the word as Paul replaces his finger with his cock, body shifting a little more to align them, eyes a stormy blue as they lock on Paul's face long enough to see the kiss coming and lean into it. Loki kisses Paul like he needs it to breath, the thought of it all having taken over his brain since breakfast, one hand coming up to grab and fist into his shirt as he hooks a leg around Paul's waist.
It hurt a little but Loki had always been a masochist, so it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Paul was touching him. That Paul was kissing him. That Paul was back where he belonged, for a moment.]
[ they're both lonely people at their core but Paul is finding that Loki's equal desperation, lips crushing against lips, is something euphoric to him.
It's never been just Paul when Loki's around. There's a sense of belonging, a sense of mutual understanding brought on by isolation and abuse and God knows what else, because with Loki he's not lonely, and kissing Loki like this makes him feel wanted and loved in a way he can't verbally describe. From how Loki's clinging to his shirt, needy and insistent and how that leg hooks around him, Paul knows Loki feels the same way.
Paul shifts, angling his hips a little better, breaking the kiss only out if nessecity. He keeps the gloved hand on the side of Loki's face, soft despite how he begins to move in a hard, needy rhythm, biting back a moan. He needs to see Loki, needs to see every micro expression as Paul begins to slip out of that practiced control. Loki is tight, hot, perfect, and Paul's silent and stoic demeanor is already starting to slip. It's what Loki does to him, what he's always done. Paul can't just take a little of his partner. He has to take all of Loki. ]
[This was the one thing that would have gotten them killed when they were kids. The one thing that no part of any of Loki's religion and belief condoned, and it was the only defiance against it that Loki wouldn't let go. Paul had been the only person, the only reason that Loki hadn't gone down a different path.
Time would tell how bad their decisions were, but that didn't matter either.
Loki hitches a note of pleasure as the kiss breaks, leans his head into that palm with an open mouthed moan of a breath, brow furrowing as he wants - more of this, more of Paul, more of Paul out of that perfectly maintained control. He can't stop the shift of his shirt gripping hand, letting go only long enough to try and scramble and push up under the shirt so he could feel even a palmful of Paul's skin as his mind rolled through all the lewd and perverted things he wanted Paul to do to him.]
[ It's the one thing they've both allowed themselves to have fully and completely, something that Paul had only felt was right to do: they carved a piece of themselves out of the rot of how they grew up in, found themselves together like this, Loki panting and grasping at him, Paul far too on the verge to stop him as the other's hand slides up and at his skin. He doesn't mind--he's not self conscious in the least, muscles toned from the hours he spends on cars--though there is the still healing stab wound, long since closed but still rough to the touch and painful at times, the only reason Paul's not picking Loki up and throwing him around. A hypocritical thing to hide from Loki when Loki's bare and naked and his skin is inked and scarred, but Paul thinks nothing of it. It's hard for him to concentrate when he's finally allowing himself so much pleasure.
Loki consumes him, always has: Paul's possessiveness bleeds into obsession, and this is one of those times. At long last, the only person who truly understands him is writhing underneath him and panting, looking so obscenely beautiful with that flushed face and those semi parted lips. ]
Fuck--[ He really can't control himself. The gloved hand moves from the side of Loki's face to slide down to his neck, not yet applying pressure as he begins to pound into the other with more purpose, far more animalistic than he had been moments before, a thin sheen of sweat already forming on his person. He knows Loki can stop him at any time, and that's part of the thrill: that Loki may not even want to. ]
[Paul doesn't stop him and there's a hitch of relief behind his next grunt as he feels that well built muscle, the faintest slick of skin under his hand. Of course he wanted Paul naked, but the rough scrape of denim against the back of his thighs was intoxicating and it made him feel like Paul couldn't wait. Like Paul needed him as much as he needed Paul. Even if his deepest pit of heart knew that wasn't really true.
They were Survivors. No matter how miserable they were, they would be 'okay'.
The 'Fuck' was a complete win - Paul had broken those tight lines he kept himself so securely inside of and rewards Loki with exactly one of the base images running through his mind. His pulse raced under Paul's fingers, his awareness of it sharp, eyes bright as he leans into it as much as he's able, using the cabniet as leverage to roll himself forward, off hand dedicated to holding his weight. No, he didn't want to stop it and he didn't care what it meant. Paul's pounding had dislodged that anchoring heel and there was no shame in the way Loki opened up wide for the abuse.]
I trust you- [He pants out the words as best he can, hand sliding off Paul's skin to fall and grab his cock, stroking it slow as he uses his precum to slick his movement.]
[ Paul's panting is ragged now, primal in its noise as he watches Loki curl those tattooed fingers around his own cock and arches up for more, eager for it like the whore he is. It's the best Loki's looked, those beautiful blue eyes clouded with lust. It's a miracle Paul doesn't come at that sight alone, how willing and supple Loki is, how it takes Paul's breath away even as he's buried inside him. ]
Good boy. [ The expensive leather of Paul's gloves are soft on Loki's skin as he presses his thumb and index down onto his friends' throat, applying pressure and slowing his hips down. ]
My perfect fucking whore.
[ he's accentuating each word by slamming himself into Loki up to the hilt, but Paul doesn't keep it up for long. Not when he can apply even more pressure like he is now, grip tight on Loki's windpipe. Caught up in euphoria and the heady rush, he resumes the hard and fast pace he'd set previously as he cuts off Loki's air altogether with a decisive squeeze. Paul keeps his free hand on the counter, ready to adjust and hold onto Loki if the other loses his balance in his ecstacy. He's only ever wanted this with Loki. No one else. ]
[Loki wasn't much for praise out in the wide world - either he did a good job or he didn't, and he didn't trust the lip service of his co-workers or the motivational praise of his bosses. It was about results, and Loki's standards were pretty black and white, cut and dry.
But to hear it from Paul sent a thrill through him, lips twitching towards a smile before they part as he pulls in a lungful of air, eyes slipping closed under the soft pressure. Fuck. He loved this so much and the punctuating slam of Paul's hips against him makes him moan a little with each thrust.
Then he couldn't breathe at all and the hand around his cock strokes furiously in time with Paul's hips, brain shorting out to nothing but the movement, the pleasure, the 'yeah, I'm your whore, fucking use me' that took him over.
It didn't take long at all - A bare note got out from behind Paul's grasp before Loki was cumming, mouth working with the breath he couldn't draw as his body tenses and bows, legs and stomach trembling under the sweet duress as he unloads and paints his stomach and fist.
He was absolutely going to need that help staying upright when he relaxes.]
[ They haven't been together in so long, have barely done anything like this but Paul, even wrapped in ecstasy and almost entirely losing control of himself, knows Loki well enough. Even before that grunt, even before the other lurches he knows--and there's something about the way the other spasms when he comes like this that goes straight to Paul's cock and sends him over the edge himself, a grunt from his lips as he he spills inside of Loki. Probably he shouldn't, just like he probably shouldn't choke his friend, though he eases pressure immediately once the other's cum splashes against the pale skin and his own henley. He does anyway.
Paul moves his hands almost immediately, still sheathed inside the brunet but more focused on making sure Loki's head doesn't hit the cramped kitchen cupboards: strong arms wrap around the other lighting quick, pulling him into a half-hug half-hold, and somewhere between the panting and the coming down from it all and the room spinning with sheer ecstasy Paul gently presses his lips against Loki's neck as a way of apologizing. Soft this time, as if combating the roughness will help. He's never soft. He tries to be, but it only ever works with Loki.
The smell of coffee is just as fragrant as the sex and sweat from the both of them. It's what finally pulls Paul out of it, content to just hold Loki as is for as long as he can. Eventually, though, and with an un-gloved hand swiping through Loki's half-shaved head, pushing his hair back for him, he breathes out and pulls out of the other entirely. He doesn't know what to say. It's morning, now. He can hear birds. Paul keeps his gaze lowered, grabbing paper towels to help clean his partner up, and says the only thing he really can think of. ]
Still want that coffee?
[ Loki's never looked more attractive than now, sex mussed in the afterglow. ]
[It was strange almost, to feel Paul unload in him, in the haze of his own orgasm and as soon as he starts to relax, his supporting arm gives out. If it weren't for Paul's swift hands, he would have absolutely banged his head against the bottom edge of the cabinet. Still, blind in the afterwash, Loki could only gasp in a soft surprise as he was scooped into Paul's arms, his own sliding up and around to grip onto his old friend like a life raft.
Paul had let go. He knew he would. The soft kiss at his neck made his already weak knees a little weaker, and he sighs out a note of contentment.
Loki could almost fall asleep here. He was already running short on sleep and the crawl of Morning was an unwelcome one. He had no delusions; he knew they weren't going to be going back to Paul's bedroom. He sounds softly, a grunt, an exhale as Paul pulls out and steps away, and runs his hand over the bangs that Paul had just pushed back. The papertowels are taken and Loki wipes himself down.]
Yeah. Yeah, pour me one, woulda ya?
[Meanwhile, Loki will hop off the counter, keeping a hand on it's edge as his legs regain their balance before going to get his pants, eyes moving back to Paul as often as he could get away with it so that he could enjoy the shape of the man moving in the mundane task. Fuck.
He didn't know what to fill the silence with, so he didn't, focusing on getting his pants back together.]
[ It's not normal--they're not normal--but Paul delights in the soft way Loki sighs, that little hum of happiness escaping from his throat. It sends a pleasant shiver down Paul's spine, mostly because he didn't expect to hear it ever again.
He wants desperately to move in, to close the gap between them once more and kiss Loki softly, gently, to pull him into a long hug and guide him over to the bed he hardly sleeps in, curling up next to him with a protective arm and sleeping the entire day. But he has work to do and Loki has work to do and Paul wouldn't be surprised if Loki still operated on 3 or 4 hours like Paul does.
So coffee it is, and the blond pushes down the sudden thought that this is going to be the last time they see each other, because that's the way the world seems to work. But Loki makes him feel right. He'd missed it, not realizing how that emptiness has gnawed at him for years. The kind of thing he thought Irene would help him with, before Standard and before Paul just couldn't help himself.
And there's something else, too, Paul realizes, perfectly content in the silence as Loki changes, he himself cleaning up a little as well and washing his hands. ]
Did the scars come first, or the tattoos?
[ It seems better than saying the obvious. 'how many times did the people supposed to protect you hurt you' seems trite. Paul pours the coffee, making it exactly Loki enjoys it. He'd memorized it the moment they had that breakfast together. ]
[He struggled to pretend that they fit well in such easy domesticity, as much as the fractional daydreaming side of him wished, too used to the harsh reality of loneliness that his life that he was smart enough to not question. Better this way, considering how he worked. Safer; he wouldn't hang any hopes and then get disappointed.
He'd had quite enough of that.
He bends, picking his shirt up with two fingers, already pleasantly sore. He was going to feel it all day. The shirt is tugged back over his shoulders, sleeves tugged up to his elbow.]
The tattoos. Quite a few of 'em hurt more than the scars did, and some of the scars there were put there myself.. [He takes the cup and gives Paul a little warm smile.]
[ Loki smiles at the coffee and Paul can't help but smile back, mirroring the other's own boyish smile with one of his own. Coffee. Common ground. They can start to learn about each other again.
Can they catch up? They're capable of doing so physically, at least. Loki knows where Paul lives. Paul knows where Loki works. Loki has to swing by the garage in a week anyway, though Paul is already planning on spending the day taking care of Loki's car. It's the last he can do after he wrecked it, even if he's not sorry about it. He motions to the small couch and coffee table: they can sit, and Paul can watch Loki like if he looks away the other is going to disappear like Orpheus's lover. He smiles again, decides maybe he and Loki should shove drinks and dinner in their faces sometime. Re-learn everything. ]
What's your favourite?
[ It doesn't matter what tattoo it is--it does, but not to Paul. It matters that Loki thinks it matters. Paul wants to ask about the scars, ask about the ones he put on himself--and he will. But right now he just wants to hear Loki talk. He missed it. ]
[Paul gestures and Loki heads that way but stays standing, worried that if he sits on that comfortable looking couch - a blanket on concrete looked comfortable right now - he'd end up dozing off. No, better that he get some of the coffee down his gullet. He didn't pace though, picking a spot where it was comfortable to watch Paul, to study him softly like he was taking notes to remember everything clearly when it was all over.]
The scripting along my thighs and hips.
[He pauses and turns out his right forearm.]
These here. Proofs of dedication. Proof of self definition.
[His hand drops back down, tucking into his pocket.]
[ The exception is in the room. Loki stands and Paul doesn't take it personally. He's unhuried and unbothered as he sits, motion fluid but stiff, back perfectly straight. He watches Loki with a calm expression, though his eyes and the light twitch of his brow denotes interest. Paul inwardly chides himself for not getting a good look at the words.
Dedication. Self definition. It's fitting for Loki: transformed through his actions, rising above unparalleled, a phoenix. There's always been a bit of fire in both of them, Loki moreso, fueled by so, so much in his life.
Where did he go, when Paul aged out and ran? Paul's gaze moves to the still bloodshot eye, the scar on the other's skull. That's proof of dedication and self definition too, he thinks. Just a different kind. ]
You've changed, but you haven't.
[ Paul smiles, a sudden proud feeling fluttering into his stomach. ]
[Paul never really had. They were almost feral when they weren't under the watchful eye of the Priest, a pack of wild, unloved and angry boys eating each other alive, and anyone getting close was a threat. Because of course they'd strike if they were there, right?
Loki had been hoping for a little more. Why Paul was here. (No, he wasn't going to let go of it. He couldn't. Not when Trouble liked following them sometimes.) What happened during any of their in between time, what Paul had been doing with himself. Still, he wasn't disappointed. Six words were better than none.
He smiles back, stomach twisting with the pure hungry joy of getting to see Paul like this. Smiling. At ease. Basically, anyway. Enough.]
I could say the same thing about you. Suppose time does that to a person though... And it's been what, a decade?
[The word, the audacity of time having moved that much was given a huff and a pull of his lips that sat half empty on his face.]
Tell me about someplace else you ended up. [He just wants to hear Paul talk and he moves around to the open seat next to him, parking himself comfortably on it's edge, their knees almost but not quite touching.] Or maybe a warm place you've been. Winters been long as hell and I miss sunshine.
[ there's something beautiful in the way that Loki's profile looks in the morning light. He looks tired as all hell, one eye still red, that long, new scar visible, but beautiful like this. Calm. When had he twitched last? The facial tic that happens when he's stressed. It had been frequent, but Paul doesn't remember it much since he picked Loki up and they went for a drive.
Maybe they do balance each other out. Paul's certainly more relaxed. Enough that he's talking without large pauses, enough that he's moving an arm around Loki's waist as he's perched on the corner of the couch. The blonde sidles up to him, gently pressing his face against the other's side, taking in Loki's scent. He smells the same. It's been a decade, but Loki's still the one person Paul would do anything for. ]
I've been in LA, working in a garage. Met someone who took a chance on me, got me in a car. Stunt driving.
[ a beat. He misses Shannon. He misses him a lot, the sight of him dead in the garage still vivid, still fresh. His grip around Loki tightens until he forces himself to stop. ]
Paid shit, but it felt like i was free.
[He pauses. Mumbles the last bit, suddenly shy but wanting to change the subject ] Great food in LA. Do you like mexican?
[He felt it, the slack in his normally tight muscles, in the lack of just under the skin electricity that drove him into action again and again. The way that the longer he spends next to Paul, the easier it is to relax, to be someone he hasn't been in a long time.
All the expectations of what was going to happen that he'd set up in his mind were getting proven wrong -
An arm shifts without thought, Loki's heart skipping a beat at the new and also familiar contact as his hand settles on the curve of Paul's shoulders as he listens. A shop. Sounds about right. The stunt driving makes him smile. It was dangerous, sure, but a good application of the skill.
The tight squeeze has Loki shifting his hand to hug Paul's head against him, like a silent promise that he wasn't going anywhere.]
Free is good. [The best, actually.] And only assholes don't like mexican. Best thing we have here is a Chinese restaurant and a burger place. Gotta go out a half hour or so to hit anything Mexican.
[ Paul wonders if Loki has any idea just how reassuring that hand gentle hug motion is to Paul, who closes his eyes and does nothing but try to etch the moment into his mind.
It's nice, he thinks. It's like it's them against the world again. Just Loki and Paul, the orphan and the delinquent, pushing against everything that forced them down.
Paul pulls away for a fraction of an inch to look directly at Loki from below, voice soft and sincere. ]
I could drive us. Whenever you're free. I'm available.
[Loki worries that it will have been taken poorly for a second, the grip just as easily interpreted as something closer to the start of boyish play instead of the secure promise of security it was. After years of not touching anyone, and he assumed that it was much the same way for Paul, Loki found himself hungry for the closeness now, hungry for the contact.
Mismatched blue eyes shift to Paul's face as the man shifts and he can't help the crooked pull of his smile at all the hope and love he saw there. His hand shifts, combing back a few errant pieces of blonde hair that could have been left alone before settling his hand back where it was around Paul's head.]
Starting to sound like a date. [His smile spreads. A date was more than perfectly okay for him.] It'll have to be in a few days though. Once I get somewhere in this case I'm working.
[A case that made him blink that hard, ticish blink even thinking about it. A case he still felt he should be doing right now, but he hadn't taken a break and jesus, he had needed one. It was to the point somedays where Loki felt like shit about sleeping because of the wasted hours not searching for the answer, where the need to solve the life or death riddle held even his most basic human needs at bay.]
[ a date. Paul can't think of the last time he had a date, proper and official. Driving with Irene, maybe, but that wasn't real, that was something Paul thought he could have. A glimpse of normalcy.
He doesn't want normalcy. He wants Loki. He's always wanted Loki. And as Loki brushes his hair away from his face he knows it'd reciprocated. ]
No. [ it doesn't ruin it at all. Paul will just spend more time with Loki's car, will call Loki when he knows the other isn't sleeping. ]
You're doing the right thing.
[ a reminder. Paul exhales. That twitch is back. ]
[You can talk about it if you want. Loki stayed silent, blinking that hard full face blink again as he looks over Paul's face. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to dredge up the memories of them, post belting. Of them being thrown into those isolation rooms that Loki had always sworn were haunted by the boys that the Priest had undoubtedly killed - more like than not, those boys were actually moved out of the home, into the foster system much in the same way that Loki and Paul were but that thought never managed to beat the ideas he'd gotten when he was small.
His grip tightens against the back of Paul's head briefly, a reassurance.]
What I want is four hours of sleep and a shower. Maybe I'll see something in everything that I haven't seen before. Only question is if I'm doing those things here, or alone back at my apartment.
[He'd rather do them here. Rather talk Paul into joining him on the bed, being horizontal, relaxing properly - they could probably both use a little shut eye.]
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His free hand drifts down Paul's shirt covered stomach, fingertips dreaming of the gentle washboard underneath and dares to reach further down so he could wrap his fingers around Paul's cock, more than pleased with what he found. He knew he was going to have to shift - arching a back doesn't do great things for access to his ass, but he had no doubts Paul would correct that too.]
All yours baby, [He murmurs, lips pulling in a passing little smirk.] All yours.
[Maybe he always had been. Maybe he was okay with that as long as Paul was around to remind him.]
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He can't quite feel the hand on his arm, just like he's purposefully keeping his shirt on, partially because he gets a personal thrill out of this sort of control and partly because it means Loki cant see his steel healing injuries. But Loki is grabbing at him and Loki is smirking at him and Paul can't help but match his facial expression.
He lets go of Loki entirely to grab at his hips and shove, roughly positioning him by the waist. There's just enough room for Loki to shift, as cramped as it is, and Paul has no problems lifting his non gloved hand to Loki's lips, pressing them open and forcing Loki to take them obediently. He knows how to suck. He's always been good at it, In Paul's experience. ]
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Paul shoves and pulls and Loki shifts with him, even if means begrudgingly pulling his hands from Paul's cock, and he's feeling breathless and whore-y and just as needy as he's been accused of being. His hands scramble out to help support the shift in his weight, legs spreading and also lightly hooking around the back of Paul's thighs as he prepares himself for what's coming.
Which didn't exactly include the fingers, but there was no hesitation in the way Loki opened his mouth and sucked on those fingers like it was Paul's cock, almost drunk on the taste of salt and skin sinking into his mouth. Whatever Paul wanted; let Loki show him what he wanted to do.]
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Paul waits until the other finds his balance--it doesn't take long, but it gives Paul the chance to nuzzle the other's shoulder, graze his teeth along the other's ink--before he removes that hand from the other's mouth and lowers it.
Loki looks incredible as Paul slides a finger into him, working him only long enough to make sure he won't tear anything. He pulls out and hastily spits at an attempt at lube, making a mental note to purchase some for the next time, if there will be a next time, because fuck, as he guides and slides himself into Loki for the first time in over a decade feels spiritually divine and he doesn't want to let this go.
He finally kisses Loki, moaning softly into the kiss as he buries himself inside the other and gives them both enough time to adjust. ]
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knewwas coming. Loki gasps a little as the fingers are removed, letting the breath out with a soft growl, head rolling back as Paul starts stretching him out.How long had it been? How long had it been since Loki let anyone touch him, much less felt Paul between his legs? It was hard to say. Years at the very least, years of Loki masturbating in the shower, chasing the physical release with none of the mental stimulation that drove those needs so well.]
Fuck- [He groans out the word as Paul replaces his finger with his cock, body shifting a little more to align them, eyes a stormy blue as they lock on Paul's face long enough to see the kiss coming and lean into it. Loki kisses Paul like he needs it to breath, the thought of it all having taken over his brain since breakfast, one hand coming up to grab and fist into his shirt as he hooks a leg around Paul's waist.
It hurt a little but Loki had always been a masochist, so it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Paul was touching him. That Paul was kissing him. That Paul was back where he belonged, for a moment.]
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It's never been just Paul when Loki's around. There's a sense of belonging, a sense of mutual understanding brought on by isolation and abuse and God knows what else, because with Loki he's not lonely, and kissing Loki like this makes him feel wanted and loved in a way he can't verbally describe. From how Loki's clinging to his shirt, needy and insistent and how that leg hooks around him, Paul knows Loki feels the same way.
Paul shifts, angling his hips a little better, breaking the kiss only out if nessecity. He keeps the gloved hand on the side of Loki's face, soft despite how he begins to move in a hard, needy rhythm, biting back a moan. He needs to see Loki, needs to see every micro expression as Paul begins to slip out of that practiced control. Loki is tight, hot, perfect, and Paul's silent and stoic demeanor is already starting to slip. It's what Loki does to him, what he's always done. Paul can't just take a little of his partner. He has to take all of Loki. ]
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Time would tell how bad their decisions were, but that didn't matter either.
Loki hitches a note of pleasure as the kiss breaks, leans his head into that palm with an open mouthed moan of a breath, brow furrowing as he wants - more of this, more of Paul, more of Paul out of that perfectly maintained control. He can't stop the shift of his shirt gripping hand, letting go only long enough to try and scramble and push up under the shirt so he could feel even a palmful of Paul's skin as his mind rolled through all the lewd and perverted things he wanted Paul to do to him.]
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Loki consumes him, always has: Paul's possessiveness bleeds into obsession, and this is one of those times. At long last, the only person who truly understands him is writhing underneath him and panting, looking so obscenely beautiful with that flushed face and those semi parted lips. ]
Fuck--[ He really can't control himself. The gloved hand moves from the side of Loki's face to slide down to his neck, not yet applying pressure as he begins to pound into the other with more purpose, far more animalistic than he had been moments before, a thin sheen of sweat already forming on his person. He knows Loki can stop him at any time, and that's part of the thrill: that Loki may not even want to. ]
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They were Survivors. No matter how miserable they were, they would be 'okay'.
The 'Fuck' was a complete win - Paul had broken those tight lines he kept himself so securely inside of and rewards Loki with exactly one of the base images running through his mind. His pulse raced under Paul's fingers, his awareness of it sharp, eyes bright as he leans into it as much as he's able, using the cabniet as leverage to roll himself forward, off hand dedicated to holding his weight. No, he didn't want to stop it and he didn't care what it meant. Paul's pounding had dislodged that anchoring heel and there was no shame in the way Loki opened up wide for the abuse.]
I trust you- [He pants out the words as best he can, hand sliding off Paul's skin to fall and grab his cock, stroking it slow as he uses his precum to slick his movement.]
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Good boy. [ The expensive leather of Paul's gloves are soft on Loki's skin as he presses his thumb and index down onto his friends' throat, applying pressure and slowing his hips down. ]
My perfect fucking whore.
[ he's accentuating each word by slamming himself into Loki up to the hilt, but Paul doesn't keep it up for long. Not when he can apply even more pressure like he is now, grip tight on Loki's windpipe. Caught up in euphoria and the heady rush, he resumes the hard and fast pace he'd set previously as he cuts off Loki's air altogether with a decisive squeeze. Paul keeps his free hand on the counter, ready to adjust and hold onto Loki if the other loses his balance in his ecstacy. He's only ever wanted this with Loki. No one else. ]
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But to hear it from Paul sent a thrill through him, lips twitching towards a smile before they part as he pulls in a lungful of air, eyes slipping closed under the soft pressure. Fuck. He loved this so much and the punctuating slam of Paul's hips against him makes him moan a little with each thrust.
Then he couldn't breathe at all and the hand around his cock strokes furiously in time with Paul's hips, brain shorting out to nothing but the movement, the pleasure, the 'yeah, I'm your whore, fucking use me' that took him over.
It didn't take long at all - A bare note got out from behind Paul's grasp before Loki was cumming, mouth working with the breath he couldn't draw as his body tenses and bows, legs and stomach trembling under the sweet duress as he unloads and paints his stomach and fist.
He was absolutely going to need that help staying upright when he relaxes.]
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Paul moves his hands almost immediately, still sheathed inside the brunet but more focused on making sure Loki's head doesn't hit the cramped kitchen cupboards: strong arms wrap around the other lighting quick, pulling him into a half-hug half-hold, and somewhere between the panting and the coming down from it all and the room spinning with sheer ecstasy Paul gently presses his lips against Loki's neck as a way of apologizing. Soft this time, as if combating the roughness will help. He's never soft. He tries to be, but it only ever works with Loki.
The smell of coffee is just as fragrant as the sex and sweat from the both of them. It's what finally pulls Paul out of it, content to just hold Loki as is for as long as he can. Eventually, though, and with an un-gloved hand swiping through Loki's half-shaved head, pushing his hair back for him, he breathes out and pulls out of the other entirely. He doesn't know what to say. It's morning, now. He can hear birds. Paul keeps his gaze lowered, grabbing paper towels to help clean his partner up, and says the only thing he really can think of. ]
Still want that coffee?
[ Loki's never looked more attractive than now, sex mussed in the afterglow. ]
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Paul had let go. He knew he would. The soft kiss at his neck made his already weak knees a little weaker, and he sighs out a note of contentment.
Loki could almost fall asleep here. He was already running short on sleep and the crawl of Morning was an unwelcome one. He had no delusions; he knew they weren't going to be going back to Paul's bedroom. He sounds softly, a grunt, an exhale as Paul pulls out and steps away, and runs his hand over the bangs that Paul had just pushed back. The papertowels are taken and Loki wipes himself down.]
Yeah. Yeah, pour me one, woulda ya?
[Meanwhile, Loki will hop off the counter, keeping a hand on it's edge as his legs regain their balance before going to get his pants, eyes moving back to Paul as often as he could get away with it so that he could enjoy the shape of the man moving in the mundane task. Fuck.
He didn't know what to fill the silence with, so he didn't, focusing on getting his pants back together.]
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He wants desperately to move in, to close the gap between them once more and kiss Loki softly, gently, to pull him into a long hug and guide him over to the bed he hardly sleeps in, curling up next to him with a protective arm and sleeping the entire day. But he has work to do and Loki has work to do and Paul wouldn't be surprised if Loki still operated on 3 or 4 hours like Paul does.
So coffee it is, and the blond pushes down the sudden thought that this is going to be the last time they see each other, because that's the way the world seems to work. But Loki makes him feel right. He'd missed it, not realizing how that emptiness has gnawed at him for years. The kind of thing he thought Irene would help him with, before Standard and before Paul just couldn't help himself.
And there's something else, too, Paul realizes, perfectly content in the silence as Loki changes, he himself cleaning up a little as well and washing his hands. ]
Did the scars come first, or the tattoos?
[ It seems better than saying the obvious. 'how many times did the people supposed to protect you hurt you' seems trite. Paul pours the coffee, making it exactly Loki enjoys it. He'd memorized it the moment they had that breakfast together. ]
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He'd had quite enough of that.
He bends, picking his shirt up with two fingers, already pleasantly sore. He was going to feel it all day. The shirt is tugged back over his shoulders, sleeves tugged up to his elbow.]
The tattoos. Quite a few of 'em hurt more than the scars did, and some of the scars there were put there myself.. [He takes the cup and gives Paul a little warm smile.]
Hellva lotta money, too.
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Can they catch up? They're capable of doing so physically, at least. Loki knows where Paul lives. Paul knows where Loki works. Loki has to swing by the garage in a week anyway, though Paul is already planning on spending the day taking care of Loki's car. It's the last he can do after he wrecked it, even if he's not sorry about it. He motions to the small couch and coffee table: they can sit, and Paul can watch Loki like if he looks away the other is going to disappear like Orpheus's lover. He smiles again, decides maybe he and Loki should shove drinks and dinner in their faces sometime. Re-learn everything. ]
What's your favourite?
[ It doesn't matter what tattoo it is--it does, but not to Paul. It matters that Loki thinks it matters. Paul wants to ask about the scars, ask about the ones he put on himself--and he will. But right now he just wants to hear Loki talk. He missed it. ]
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The scripting along my thighs and hips.
[He pauses and turns out his right forearm.]
These here. Proofs of dedication. Proof of self definition.
[His hand drops back down, tucking into his pocket.]
Little surprised I don't see more of 'em on you.
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[ The exception is in the room. Loki stands and Paul doesn't take it personally. He's unhuried and unbothered as he sits, motion fluid but stiff, back perfectly straight. He watches Loki with a calm expression, though his eyes and the light twitch of his brow denotes interest. Paul inwardly chides himself for not getting a good look at the words.
Dedication. Self definition. It's fitting for Loki: transformed through his actions, rising above unparalleled, a phoenix. There's always been a bit of fire in both of them, Loki moreso, fueled by so, so much in his life.
Where did he go, when Paul aged out and ran? Paul's gaze moves to the still bloodshot eye, the scar on the other's skull. That's proof of dedication and self definition too, he thinks. Just a different kind. ]
You've changed, but you haven't.
[ Paul smiles, a sudden proud feeling fluttering into his stomach. ]
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Loki had been hoping for a little more. Why Paul was here. (No, he wasn't going to let go of it. He couldn't. Not when Trouble liked following them sometimes.) What happened during any of their in between time, what Paul had been doing with himself. Still, he wasn't disappointed. Six words were better than none.
He smiles back, stomach twisting with the pure hungry joy of getting to see Paul like this. Smiling. At ease. Basically, anyway. Enough.]
I could say the same thing about you. Suppose time does that to a person though... And it's been what, a decade?
[The word, the audacity of time having moved that much was given a huff and a pull of his lips that sat half empty on his face.]
Tell me about someplace else you ended up. [He just wants to hear Paul talk and he moves around to the open seat next to him, parking himself comfortably on it's edge, their knees almost but not quite touching.] Or maybe a warm place you've been. Winters been long as hell and I miss sunshine.
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Maybe they do balance each other out. Paul's certainly more relaxed. Enough that he's talking without large pauses, enough that he's moving an arm around Loki's waist as he's perched on the corner of the couch. The blonde sidles up to him, gently pressing his face against the other's side, taking in Loki's scent. He smells the same. It's been a decade, but Loki's still the one person Paul would do anything for. ]
I've been in LA, working in a garage. Met someone who took a chance on me, got me in a car. Stunt driving.
[ a beat. He misses Shannon. He misses him a lot, the sight of him dead in the garage still vivid, still fresh. His grip around Loki tightens until he forces himself to stop. ]
Paid shit, but it felt like i was free.
[He pauses. Mumbles the last bit, suddenly shy but wanting to change the subject ] Great food in LA. Do you like mexican?
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All the expectations of what was going to happen that he'd set up in his mind were getting proven wrong -
An arm shifts without thought, Loki's heart skipping a beat at the new and also familiar contact as his hand settles on the curve of Paul's shoulders as he listens. A shop. Sounds about right. The stunt driving makes him smile. It was dangerous, sure, but a good application of the skill.
The tight squeeze has Loki shifting his hand to hug Paul's head against him, like a silent promise that he wasn't going anywhere.]
Free is good. [The best, actually.] And only assholes don't like mexican. Best thing we have here is a Chinese restaurant and a burger place. Gotta go out a half hour or so to hit anything Mexican.
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It's nice, he thinks. It's like it's them against the world again. Just Loki and Paul, the orphan and the delinquent, pushing against everything that forced them down.
Paul pulls away for a fraction of an inch to look directly at Loki from below, voice soft and sincere. ]
I could drive us. Whenever you're free. I'm available.
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Mismatched blue eyes shift to Paul's face as the man shifts and he can't help the crooked pull of his smile at all the hope and love he saw there. His hand shifts, combing back a few errant pieces of blonde hair that could have been left alone before settling his hand back where it was around Paul's head.]
Starting to sound like a date. [His smile spreads. A date was more than perfectly okay for him.] It'll have to be in a few days though. Once I get somewhere in this case I'm working.
[A case that made him blink that hard, ticish blink even thinking about it. A case he still felt he should be doing right now, but he hadn't taken a break and jesus, he had needed one. It was to the point somedays where Loki felt like shit about sleeping because of the wasted hours not searching for the answer, where the need to solve the life or death riddle held even his most basic human needs at bay.]
If that doesn't ruin the offer. [If it was okay.]
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He doesn't want normalcy. He wants Loki. He's always wanted Loki. And as Loki brushes his hair away from his face he knows it'd reciprocated. ]
No. [ it doesn't ruin it at all. Paul will just spend more time with Loki's car, will call Loki when he knows the other isn't sleeping. ]
You're doing the right thing.
[ a reminder. Paul exhales. That twitch is back. ]
You can talk about it if you want.
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His grip tightens against the back of Paul's head briefly, a reassurance.]
What I want is four hours of sleep and a shower. Maybe I'll see something in everything that I haven't seen before. Only question is if I'm doing those things here, or alone back at my apartment.
[He'd rather do them here. Rather talk Paul into joining him on the bed, being horizontal, relaxing properly - they could probably both use a little shut eye.]
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