"That's what I meant, asshole. Your hands are a little fucked right now. I'm not gonna make you sign if it's--whatever." This is. so dumb. This is very dumb, and Loki is still taking all of this very well, and the fact that Clint isn't just annoys him further.
There are a lot of ways Loki could touch, too. Hand. Leg. Arm. Cheek. Back of the neck and stroking lovingly into his hair seemed like such a deliberately intimate thing to do, where he cannot see. Like, what, now that they had a fucked up dream full of dream sex, now they're boyfriends?
(He doesn't know how dream magic works, and he wonders if Loki does either.)
"You want to touch me." Repeated. Stated. Okay. A light huff. "You usually stop yourself." Because of course Loki wants to touch. And they have, sometimes, touched. Deliberately, with silent permission, or inadvertently, accidentally brushing together. Sometimes Loki did it to stoke the embers of anger and get a reaction, to provoke. Sometimes softer. Sometimes harder. Sometimes not at all, the desire hanging there heavy between them.
He's touched Loki, in a world of unreality. Fairness means allowing him to touch back in some way. Hand on his side, sliding down to grab him, dig in nails-- Thinks of hands running up his back, down his spine, gripping short hair, stroking thighs. Thinks of arms holding him.
It makes him feel dizzy, and he thinks instead about the taste of good beer and the warmth of a cat. Shifts the little sentient void so that he can move, swinging his legs up and stretching out along the couch, calves neatly resting on Loki's lap, back propped up by the corner of the seat. Now he's looking at Loki. Now Loki gets to touch him. In a way that Clint can see and approve of. For the moment.
It is small and childish. And he does not give a fuck.
"I guess nothing about us is really 'appropriate' anyway. Sorry. I'm trying to be a little more careful with my words, and I'm not great at it."
He swallows. Tastes blood. Reaches for his drink and swallows away that taste.
"Do you want me to apologize for what I did? I know the answer is no, but I want to hear you say it." ...Hm. "You know what I mean." He'll still hear it, in a sense!
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There are a lot of ways Loki could touch, too. Hand. Leg. Arm. Cheek. Back of the neck and stroking lovingly into his hair seemed like such a deliberately intimate thing to do, where he cannot see. Like, what, now that they had a fucked up dream full of dream sex, now they're boyfriends?
(He doesn't know how dream magic works, and he wonders if Loki does either.)
"You want to touch me." Repeated. Stated. Okay. A light huff. "You usually stop yourself." Because of course Loki wants to touch. And they have, sometimes, touched. Deliberately, with silent permission, or inadvertently, accidentally brushing together. Sometimes Loki did it to stoke the embers of anger and get a reaction, to provoke. Sometimes softer. Sometimes harder. Sometimes not at all, the desire hanging there heavy between them.
He's touched Loki, in a world of unreality. Fairness means allowing him to touch back in some way. Hand on his side, sliding down to grab him, dig in nails-- Thinks of hands running up his back, down his spine, gripping short hair, stroking thighs. Thinks of arms holding him.
It makes him feel dizzy, and he thinks instead about the taste of good beer and the warmth of a cat. Shifts the little sentient void so that he can move, swinging his legs up and stretching out along the couch, calves neatly resting on Loki's lap, back propped up by the corner of the seat. Now he's looking at Loki. Now Loki gets to touch him. In a way that Clint can see and approve of. For the moment.
It is small and childish. And he does not give a fuck.
"I guess nothing about us is really 'appropriate' anyway. Sorry. I'm trying to be a little more careful with my words, and I'm not great at it."
He swallows. Tastes blood. Reaches for his drink and swallows away that taste.
"Do you want me to apologize for what I did? I know the answer is no, but I want to hear you say it." ...Hm. "You know what I mean." He'll still hear it, in a sense!