fucky feelings for cuttingremark

[brandingproblem]

(from here)

He keeps his word. He doesn't tell anyone where Loki's hiding out, powerless. Even though he should. At the very least, Thor deserves to know, and when he inevitably finds out, Clint is going to accept whatever anger the thunder god levels at him.

Steve's gone, Tony's dead, Nat's dead, Bruce is...happy and content with his life and doesn't deserve that dropped on him frankly. So. That's all the OG crew accounted for. The new crew would obviously have heard about Loki, but that's not the same as actually being present fighting him or his forces. That Scott guy doesn't count, either. Like, would they do something? Maybe not if he hasn't actually done anything and doesn't pose a threat.

NYPD might have a few choice words, but. Clint tries very hard not to get noticed by the local LEOs if he can help it. Loki isn't really their jurisdiction, and SHIELD is...more or less out of commission even though it still works in the shadows, where Fury and Hill are. Wherever they are.

Which doesn't mean Loki gets of scot free. If he is up to something, then it's up to Clint to suss it out. Clint's mess, as ever. If Loki really is as powerless as it seems, there are still plenty of other ways he could fuck around and cause trouble. So. His responsibility.

It's definitely not whatever lingering connection of magic that binds their minds, not telepathy, not even really empathy, but still. A connection. It might have been severed long ago, but it's as Loki implied: you don't come out of that, something that strong and strange and otherworldly, and not have there be something that remains behind. Therapy has been all well and good. He isn't angry about it, not really, and he doesn't get nightmares the way he used to, after. But also, he's not sure it prepared him for Loki being in his life again. Not just a passing glance, either.

It jumbles everything up. The same type of traitorous thought that had him pondering Loki's sleeping habits and the absurd thought of touching crops up whenever he's near. Something damn near affectionate, something starved. Something that's in Loki, too, and it makes him feel sick. Makes him feel wanting. Which makes him feel sicker.

His eyes might be clear, but his mind feels clouded. Not a great way to show up at the apartment, but he can't just let this pass by without checking in on Loki. That's most of the reason he takes these trips back to NYC in the first place. Occasionally check in on Avengers-y things, see how the cleanup of the compound is up north, catch up with a few people he actually knows. But. It's about Loki.

It's always been fucking about Loki, huh.

He raps on the door, drinks nestled in a holder. Hot tea for Loki, a spiced blend, cloves, cinnamon. Makes him think of wintertime. Makes him think of the spicy and complicated (former?) god. Coffee for himself. Peace offering.

Comments

[brandingproblem]

They probably won't kill each other in the couple minutes this will maybe possibly take. He wouldn't be too put out, really, if they did.

The call to Laura goes...about as well as can be expected. She is, of course, a very understanding woman. More than he could ever hope to ask for. Her history as an agent certainly helps, knowing that there is some Weird Inexplicable Shit out there. She was so good to him in that unsettled period after Loki's...after Loki. She understands that sometimes Shit Happens on the job.

That does not mean she has to understand this.

He explains it as best as he can. Which isn't great. But he tries. That there isn't any tangible method of fixing this, and that to be perfectly honest they don't even know if this will work until they try it, doesn't help.

Her worries are legitimate. She doesn't want to lose him to something he'd fended off years ago. And they practically just got back together. Running off to spend time with someone like that, sexually, does not feel good.

There is...an argument.

It takes her checking that he does, in fact, have a flight booked home and several promises that he would rather Loki choke on several dicks that are definitely not his and maybe re-die and go to whatever Asgardian hell there is (Hel?), but seeing as that's not going to be an option for several reasons...to get the argument to calm. Think of it as a mix of alternative therapy and a mission. It's the best he's got.

She knows he hasn't been sleeping the best for the last month anyway.

He meekly comes back, phone tucked away. "Still alive?"

[cuttingremark]

"Barely."

Loki stands when Clint re-enters the room, not making eye contact with him. He hadn't been eavesdropping, but it was impossible for either him or Strange to miss when the call got a bit heated.

"Unfortunatly Strange refuses to budge on the 'no sex in the Sanctum' rule, so I suppose we shall have to return to my apartment."

"Wait, you have an apartm-"

"Shall we?" Loki seamlessly shifts back to her less-recognizable form and holds an arm out for Clint to take.

[brandingproblem]

He sees the arm and the dashing lady and--

Shoves his hands in his pockets and makes for the nearest exit-looking door. "We shall. You know I have a hotel room, right?"

Strange rolls his eyes so hard they might strain, and with a touch of magic, they are suddenly in the foyer again, with him shooing them toward the door. "I do not want to hear it, out. But let me know if it works!"

"Hey, quick question, anyone ever puke after that?"

"Out!"

And they are out.

"...Like I said. Hotel room. I've got one. Just in case, uh." He furrows his brow, stares at the concrete under his feet for a moment. "Depending on how many neighbors are around." To hear. In case. Things get loud.

[cuttingremark]

"Aw, shy are you?" Loki gives him a dangerous smirk and tries very hard to not think about what he might do to make her scream. "Most of the apartments surrounding me are empty. If you prefer to wear protection, we should stop to purchase that."

[brandingproblem]

That. Is an annoyingly not bad idea. "What, not in the habit of bringing anyone home yet?" His feet start moving. There are shops all over, and better to be away from Strange's doorstep at this point.

"You thinking of staying like that, or back to your usual self? Out of curiosity."

[cuttingremark]

"That and I don't actually need it."

She thinks for a moment. Something about talking about the act takes a bit of the edge away, as if they were making it worse trying to ignore it.

"Whatever you would prefer. Things can also be a bit of a...mix and match, shall we say?"

[brandingproblem]

"...Well. If you don't need it. Then I probably don't need it. I'd ask if we're about to find the first case of cross-species STDs, but your brother has definitely slept with Jane, so pretty sure if there were some weird biological differences to know about, we'd know about it."

(Does he know for a certain fact that Thor and Jane did the do, no, but come on. It's Thor. You hit that. With a hammer. So to speak.)

"That not needing extend to, uh." He is not a teenager god. "Lubrication?"

Setting aside the mix'n'match for a hot second.

[cuttingremark]

"That entirely depends on your preferences. But I do have that in the bedroom."

[brandingproblem]

"...Noted."

Well. Seems like apartment is the real way to go here. Even if it's Loki's turf, Loki's territory. Does that make it worse, knowing that he'd be right in the midst of her home field as it were, or better, knowing he's wrapped around all things Loki?

He doesn't want to turn that question over too much in his mind.

"Whatever you prefer. It's your body. I'm not gonna make you be something you're not feeling."

[cuttingremark]

"There isn't anything I'm not feeling at the moment." She picks up the pace a bit.

"Come on, if we aren't stopping for anything, I'd rather get back as soon as possible." You know. For 'symptom relief.'

[brandingproblem]

Someone's a little eager. Not that there isn't a part of him that's also fully eager, but she seems to really enjoy engaging with this idea. He keeps up no problem, but eyes her up. There's a question on his mind, but it seems nebulous and complex (or just really stupid), and he doesn't know how to word it. It also...absolutely doesn't matter if Loki only has this desire because of the connection or if she actually perhaps somehow in there really does want him, apart from it all.

[cuttingremark]

The quicken pace gets them back to the building and into the elevator before the heat in Loki's body becomes a burning. As soon as the metal door slide shut, she's on him, pressing him into the wall of the elevator with a heated kiss.

It's dangerous. They don't exactly have a good history of stopping without serious interruption, but she can't help it. Not trying to deny it anymore feels good, like intentionally letting pressure out of a container rather than waiting for it to explode.

[brandingproblem]

To no one's surprise, least of all his own, he's an idiot. Of course Loki's going to do her damnedest to release some pressure instead of waiting, and Clint is--appreciative of the move, certainly. His need had felt much less present, even with holding hands, even with proximity. (Yeah, maybe an intense conversation with your wife will put just about anything on cooldown.)

He's been fighting this the whole way. Being given grudging permission hasn't helped any, because now he just feels more fucked up and weirdly guilty about the whole thing.

So Loki catches him off guard, and there's a moment where his mind just blanks. And when it boots back up, his body is certainly kissing her back. And then the burning want surges in. Still recognizes this body as Loki.

And still he fights. Puts hands on her--shoulders, not at her waist, her hips, the way he wants needs wants to, pushes. It feels...worse. It feels worse to push that heat and desire away, and it leaves him gasping for air. The elevator dings. He can't get out of that small space fast enough. Like that'll help instead of making his head spin.

[cuttingremark]

Loki lets out a growl of frustration at being pushed away. She would have gone in for another kiss had the doors not opened and the archer not raced out. All the better, though, lest they be caught rutting in the elevator like a couple of horny teenagers.

She follows, soon overtaking him to get to the door to 'her' apartment first. A single touch from her hand to the doorknob enough to open the unlocking rune inscribed there.

"Anything we need to discuss?" she asks, stepping inside and kicking her shoes off.

[brandingproblem]

He's very good at opening his mouth when he shouldn't, and keeping it shut when he should say something. 'We don't have to do this' is on the tip of his tongue, but then, if that were really true, he wouldn't be following her in, closing the door with some kind of sense of finality behind him. That kiss made things so much worse. Because he wants to do the wall pushing now, hike up her skirt, fuck her until they pass out from exhaustion. Wants her to tie him up tight and drive him right around the bend by touching him and riding him.

His hand hasn't left the doorknob, and it tightens hard around the metal.

"Dunno," he eventually says, like it's casual, "is there?" Plenty. What would they say? He isn't sure. "No choking, got that part."

[cuttingremark]

"A shame, but yes. No choking. Other than that..." Loki steps behind him, pressing her from chest into his back, looping her arms around his chest to trace up and down his torso with her fingers.

"The floor is yours."

[brandingproblem]

He shivers under the touch. It's a fixation, from that very first night, the idea of touching, of being touched and caressed and held and hurt and molded and formed by Loki. Possessed, treated with such reverence.

"Pretty sure the floor's not gonna cut it this time." Which is not what she meant and yet.

[cuttingremark]

Still behind him, Loki shifts, gaining the height he'd long on Clint in his other form.

"I whole heartedly agree," he says, bending down to nibble lightly on his ear. "Lead the way?"

[brandingproblem]

"Fuck."

The resolve, or really the fight in him, finally gives way. That there's still just enough of himself present to be angry at himself means, yeah, okay, those little incidents through yesterday really did help in small measures. Is it better if they are both somewhat more conscious and aware of all they're doing rather than submerging under the pull of this otherworldly gemstone? (Or, better question, will even this fade away when they give in entirely?)

He wants Loki's hands all over him, to pick him apart, to sink into his chest and take hold of his very heart.

Well. They can take hold of something else soon enough if they really want to. He presses back against Loki, adding a bit of friction, and takes one of those roving hands, brings fingers to his lips, takes a few into his mouth to suck on. Ignores an impulse to bite.

...Right, he was supposed to lead the way. Bit distracted from that.

[cuttingremark]

"That's the general idea," Loki mutters into his ear, grinding right back. No hardness meets Clint, but not for lack of arousal. After all this buildup, Loki finds he doesn't want to worry about prolonged prep work to get where they're going.

They aren't moving, and he isn't doing much to help that as he moves his lips down Clints neck, kissing and nipping and sucking. He's gripped with the urge to mark, to claim. To let everyone know that this is his. His to devour, his to see.

There's the sudden urge to slam Clint against the wall, to ravish him right here in the entrance hall. Loki suddenly detaches and takes a step back, pupils blown wide.

"Bedroom. Or couch, fuck, I don't care."

[brandingproblem]

Ah--well, that sure is an example of what Loki was suggesting earlier about preferences. Clint has zero problem with any arrangement of bits and bobs, but clearly Loki has a limit to his patience.

Which, maybe he hasn't quite reached, since he actually pulls away. Couch is tempting. It's closer.

But a bed will give them more space. And somehow, it seems fitting. A month ago when he'd laid out on that bed fighting what he thought was a sickness with that sense-memory of Loki's touch that had never touched him in the ways lying there wanted him to be touched. It's more intimate that way, for better or for worse.

Clint takes a step closer, strips off his shirt as he goes, tossing to the floor, baring chest and tattoo sleeve and all. And he closes the distance, pushing into Loki, pressing him back. He remembers where the bedroom is, after all. Kisses, nips at him. Slides hands up under that skirt to grab handfuls of ass none too gently.

[cuttingremark]

Loki watches as Clint removes his shirt, but doesn't get much time to dwell on the tattoo as the archer is on him only a moment later. He walks backwards where Clint directs, doing everything he can to stay in constant contact with him.

It's a miracle neither of them trip on the way to the bedroom. Loki doesn't even realize they're there until his legs hit the edge of the bed.

[brandingproblem]

Clint pushes, actually shoves him with a hand to his chest, and wastes no time climbing after Loki, over him, above him. He could, perhaps, help Loki out of his clothes. Or he could just keep a hand under that skirt, hiking it higher and higher, flipping the material up.

His mouth travels down, rough kisses and little bites over his jaw and neck, following down the dip of the V of his top. And one of his hands occupies itself running up one of Loki's thighs, over stockings and over skin, and then along the hem of panties, and further still until he runs his thumb over a particular bit of soft, wet, warm patch of fabric and starts to rub.

[cuttingremark]

The skirt isn't a tight one, so it moves and flips easily around Loki's body and Clint's hands. He stretches his neck, giving more access for more bites and rough kisses, as his hands push up and under the archer's shirt. Nails run over the same paths as the previous day, digging in almost hard enough to break the skin when Clint finds his sweet spot.

"There!" Loki's hips grind up into his hand, doing everything he can to increase the pressure and friction. It's been a while since he sought pleasure in this form, the sensations similar, yet so different.

[brandingproblem]

The scratching, well, it scratches some kind of itch in him, something he probably shouldn't indulge. The idea of mixing in pain, that it might be a reminder of what Loki did to him. Something that can ache and sting and hurt, even if the pain is enjoyable at the very same time.

As ever, it's a confused jumble of feelings and sensations, and so much easier to focus on someone else's pleasure. The way Loki keens under him. He indulges for a short time before the impatience, the insistence, rumbles a growl out of him, and he pulls away long enough to once more shuck his shirt. There's no plan to retrieve it this time. His hands push down on Loki's hips, fingers worked under fabric, pulling down roughly. Nails catch on stockings without care, a pull here, a run there, until he flings the panties off Loki's legs entirely and to somewhere on the floor.