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.

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That isn't actually the answer he was expecting. He breathes it in slow. Back out again. Nods. There's no reason for Loki to lie to him, now, like this. (Loki, who has his cum inside him and his blood under perfectly painted nails, who holds this connection with a certain tenderness that Clint rails against.)

"Sorry about the belt thing," is what then comes out of his mouth, not knowing what else to say. "But you seemed to like that well enough."

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Loki frowns, rolling back over onto his back. The sudden openness makes him itchy. Worse than the actual itching from the drying sweat and cum.

"Feels odd having you apologize to me. Not sure I like it."

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"Then I won't do it again." He frowns in return, still staring at Loki. Apologizing to the god is not in his nature, but he thought it might at least be not unwelcome.

When he sits up at last, the sheet under him sticks to him for a moment. "I'll go. And we'll see how long this all...lasts."

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Loki watches him, only now realizing the blood he'd have to try to get out of those sheets.

"Only time will tell, I suppose. I'll-" he groans, "I'll contact the wizard in the next few days, see if he's found anything else." He should probably do it before then, but he really really doesn't want to.

"Feel free to use the shower and such. There are towels and wash cloths in the hall closet."

[brandingproblem]

He wants to turn down the offer. Wants to just pull his clothes on and leave and get on a plane and leave and shove this all in a locked drawer and never have to deal with it or look at it ever again. He almost says as much.

But he has blood on him, and Loki on him. Clint shivers and pretends it's just a chill. "Okay." And, because maybe manners won't kill him: "Thanks."

He doesn't bother in gathering up his clothes. He'll get them later. There's no embarrassment here walking around the flat naked now that they've fucked. He keeps the shower cold. It feels more cleansing. And punishing. Tries to be quick but thorough about it, like after a mission, and when he comes out again, mostly dry but a towel around his waist, he still can't quite look Loki in the eye.

"Free for you to use. You've still got plenty of hot water." He shifts a little. "Also, I wouldn't mind if you gave me a hand with-" He motions a hand up to his shoulders. They aren't bleeding anymore, but still should probably slap something over the little wounds. "Could probably do it myself, but it'd go faster with help." And then, "You don't have to." Just so Loki is aware.

[cuttingremark]

While Clint showers, Loki goes to the guest bath and washes up as well. He will take his own shower later, but for now it's enough to wipe off the sweat and cum wit a soapy cloth. He changes back to a dick, not bothering to put a towel around his waist as he goes back to the bedroom to strip down the bed.

He looks up with Clint addresses him, mildly surprised the man didn't sneak out when his back was turned. But he figures the other doesn't want to muck up his shirt as he had when he pressed his back into the sheets.

"Of course. I have bandages in the bathroom." Loki gestures back to the room Clint just came from, stepping forward to follow him should he re-enter it. "I do apologize for that. I didn't realize...my strength in the moment."

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"I dunno, I think you would've managed it with human strength. It wasn't..." He trails off, unsure what to say, really. How to describe it. That it's not bad. That he's had worse during sex, honestly. That it felt good in the moment.

That he wishes it was bad, that it didn't feel good.

He settles himself on the edge of the bathtub. Only glances at Loki's state of undress. Maybe next time--god. If there's a next time. Maybe there won't be a next time. Don't think about a next time.

"Pain's just a flip side of pleasure," he settles on, uneasily.

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Loki catches the glance, but interprets it as more a curiosity than any real fervor. The heat under his own skin has soothed, and he can only assume the same for the human.

"Hard to get pregnant if you don't have the right organs for it," he says casually.

He begins to work, hands light as he runs an alcohol pad over each cut. Clint has just showered, but it never hurts to be careful. They start to ooze a bit, the tiny scabs coming away with the wipe, but it's nothing that impedes the bandages he has at the ready.

[brandingproblem]

"Didn't say anything about it," he mumbles. Hard not to look, okay.

He doesn't wince or hiss at any of it. Minor cuts. Not even really worth the effort, but better he doesn't start bleeding for it in the middle of just existing. More for the convenience of others if not for himself.

"Strange knows how to get in touch. If he finds anything or has questions, he's a big boy, he can talk to us instead of having to reach out to him."

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"He is technically doing us a favor, though." Cleaning done, he starts applying a thin layer of gauze and tape, the cuts being too long for normal bandaids. Just enough to catch any blood that might see through before it could stain Clint's shirts.

"At least the urge to jump you seems to have abated." Or kneel at his feet, begging to be used.

[brandingproblem]

Clint just grunts in response to the first point. Okay. Granted. Strange doesn't have to do anything, but he should know it's in everyone's best interest if this gets fixed. So. Fucking magic.

His shoulders stay still, but Loki might still get the sense of drooping them in a sigh. "For now. I'm not exactly looking forward to the idea of it coming back."

That might not be entirely true, but he doesn't want to acknowledge any part of him that actually might have fun with this.

[cuttingremark]

"I could always come to you," Loki says nonchalantly, like he's suggesting coming over for dinner rather than a wild booty call.

"Not your home, obviously," he amends quickly. "Somewhere nearby, so you don't have to travel so far."

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And he can't even rail against the idea. Clint was the one who had suggested the ludicrous idea of Loki coming to the homestead, staying, like in the fucking barn. Loki's amendment does not necessarily make it better.

It's all so damn wrong.

"If it comes back," grit out, just a bit, "then we'll figure it out then."

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"That sounds like waiting until you're hungry to decide what to cook for dinner," Loki says as he places the last of the bandages.

"There, now you won't bleed through your shirt."

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"Isn't that how most people do it?"

He only kind of jokes. Laura does most of the planning for cooking. It's usually easier that way. Given Clint does indeed tend to wait last minute until he's hungry, or the kids are, to figure out what a meal should be.

"It's probably not gonna kill us."

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"I think we both know there are states far worse than death." Loki stands, walking back into the bedroom to fetch a pair of comfortable black sweatpants. Why he didn't put them on earlier is a mystery to him. Perhaps he wanted Barton to see, perhaps he wanted to test the wizard's hypothesis a bite more thoroughly. Perhaps he was just feeling lazy.

Yeah, probably mostly the last one.

"And for the record, I did enjoy what you did with the belt. Wouldn't mind it being used in other ways, should we have to do this again."

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Clint doesn't move when Loki does, doesn't make to stand immediately, if only because the words seem like such a slap in the face. To invoke what they are both keenly aware of. To compare a possible occasional romp in the sheets with--

He breathes out slow and finally gets the hell up. Surprised to see Loki bothered to put anything on, but makes no comment on it. Honestly, Clint is being very good right now about trying not to put his whole entire foot in his mouth. Even if Loki is making that very difficult.

He discards the towel and starts to gather up his clothes. "You really wanna plan out the next encounter, huh. Agree on some motel to meet at, any fun toys to bring, plot out what we'll do?"

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"Well it certainly sounds more responsible than waiting until we're so horny we can't think straight." If he were in a better mood the pun would have been intentional.

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"I don't think thinking straight has ever been a problem for you." Clint doesn't mind making a pun/joke/light of it. He doesn't comment on whether it's ever been a problem for himself.

"You complaining about how this went down? You had fun. Or do you want to draw it out longer?"

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The joke does get a small snort out of Loki. He really should have seen that one coming.

"The only complaints I have are of the circumstances, which would not have been helped by us attempting to 'draw it out.'" He sighs, sitting on the now stripped mattress.

"Neither will us sitting here bickering. Go home, stay for dinner, got get drunk; whatever it is that will make you feel better about bedding a monster."

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It's fucking annoying, because making a plan of action for if/when this happens again is a really good idea. Loki pulling the monster card when it's clear he is not now, currently, anything quite like a monster sticks with him, dares him to argue in Loki's favor. There's no good reply for Clint, especially when Clint doesn't know how to feel about any of it.

"You know I'm only trying to be contrary," he grumbles/admits, starting to pull his clothes on. "Piss you off and not have to think about it. Should have a plan. And a backup plan, in case. Maybe a list of don'ts, you know, red flag no gos, like you and choking."

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"And now you're trying to take my job." Loki smirks, a bit of the tension he was feeling easing out of him when Clint admits they should probably have a plan. Normally he's all for spontaneity and chaos, but his situation is too delicate right now.

"Would you rather do this now while our minds are apparently as clear as they're going to get, or later?"

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"Well, we're sure as hell not gonna do any planning when we're ripping clothes off each other."

He sits, tentatively, on the bed next to Loki. Deliberately does not apologize for bleeding on the sheets. Hasn't bothered with his shirt, but he's got underwear and pants on. Good enough for now.

"You planning on sticking around, or you gonna bolt?" Given how Loki was very convinced he needed to Leave, Immediately before.

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"I will remind you this is my apartment -sort of. If anyone is bolting, it would have to be you."

Well, at least they're both wearing pants now. And Loki doesn't even feel the need to rip them off! Progress!

"No goes...other than choking, don't bring up my family? Though I feel that's rather obvious."

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"I meant are you going to leave this place and find somewhere else, worried I'm gonna sic someone on you, but fair enough."

He huffs out a laugh at Loki's second point. "Pretty obvious, yeah. I can promise when we're together, I am not thinking about Thor." Which, he's never really thought about Thor that way, but he can see the appeal...

"I-" He starts, he stops. Like he's choking on his thoughts, struggling with what he wants to say, how he wants to say it. "Think I want you to hurt me," he starts again, fingers curling along the edge of the bed, line of his neck, his shoulders, tight and taut. "But I don't know that you should."