Thor tries to be a big sweetie, and it actually doesn't backfire on him.
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Marvel, right down to the characters.
"Do not touch me, you insufferable boar! Keep your coarse hands to yourself!" Loki spit like a snake, recoiling and dripping venom from his silvered tongue. Though at the moment, it seemed far less like silver and more akin to tar, sticking to Thor's skin with a wretched burn that couldn't be soothed. He knew not to take the insults personally; that didn't eradicate their initial sting. Loki had warned him about this. He was in pain, and irritable because of it. The heat in the room certainly couldn't be helping either. Thor had already opened the window, letting in a cool night breeze, and he'd offered to mop the Jotun's skin with a damp cloth as well, if the warmth grew too much for him to bear. But there was more Thor could do to help. If only Loki would calm down, and allow the thunderer within a foot of him…
"Loki. Please. My only wish is to help you." Thor showed him the pot of oil in his hand, its scent fragrant, though not overbearing. "This will make the pain less of a trouble for you. Do you understand? We need only apply it to your skin, and the ache will recede, at least for a short while." He dipped his fingers into the substance and showed it to his consort to be, slowly inching his hand forward in hopes of encouraging him, if only a little. The moment he was within reach though, Loki backed against the headboard and hissed wildly, glaring at him through his lashes. It reminded Thor of a feral animal, desperate and foul tempered. How he wanted to calm him. To make everything all better. "….I know this is a burden to you, but if you would only-"
"A burden? Is that how you would describe my agony?!"
Damn. He'd clearly said the wrong thing. It wasn't a surprise, to be honest. Thor had a nasty habit of doing that. Loki could just be so…..irate. And things were worse now, when his consort was so sensitive not only to the touch, but with his emotions. Any little thing could set him off. And so it had. "You monstrous wretch! Shall I allow you to manhandle me then, to soothe my pain? Or do you plan on holding me down and forcing your fingers inside me, like the brute that you are!" The last was less a question, and more of a shout.
By the Norns, he was a spitfire. Thor had handled many a furious beast in the past, but this was Loki. His queen to be. His consort, and the one for whom he felt more than he'd ever thought possible. Thor couldn't treat him like a beast, nor any animal for that matter. "I would never force you." He looked upon the blue skinned male quivering-no, cowering against the mound of pillows at the farthest end of the bed, curled into himself so that no limb might stray and be idly touched. Loki was angry, aye. But he was also afraid.
It was such fear that made Thor determined not to stray from his task. Loki needed help, and the god was going to ensure that he received it, no matter how difficult that might prove to be. "Loki. I can make the pain better." Oil coated fingers flexed, then reached out to him again. But this time, he didn't waver from his task. Thor wasn't going to let Loki continue to idly suffer, when he could make things better. "Let me help you."
"No! Stay away from me," Loki snarled, frightfully looking at his hand. Thor only moved closer, both palms raised in a placating gesture to ward off his slaps and black nails, sharp enough to be considered claws. Their threat mattered little. Whatever damage was inflicted on him, he could handle. Loki was worth more than his fair share of bruises and scratches. "Thor! You wouldn't dare. Touch me without permission and I-I'll burn you! I'll remove the seidr protecting your skin from my own!"
"Then do it. But I'll not leave you to suffer, Loki, when I can stop it." The last thing he wanted was to frighten him, but there was little helping the fear in those crimson eyes as Thor laid a hand upon his blue shoulder, using the softest touch he could muster. He had not a single doubt in his mind that Loki might actually burn him, were he to think himself threatened. His mental state was erratic, fitful. Thor wouldn't hold it against him. None of this was Loki's fault. It was his nature that gave him grief now, the pain all Jotun experienced, in preparation of what children their bodies might future house. Months ago Loki had described it to him, knowing one day it would come to pass. Senseless agony, for days, perhaps even a week. After that, once things were settled, and his body ready, he could bear children. His small form meant that any child they created together wouldn't strain him overly much, for which Thor was eternally grateful. But first, they had to suffer through this. These moments of misery. He wished he could take the pain in his consort's place, spare him these hateful memories. Aiding him would have to be enough though.
Lucky for him, this might be an easier task than he'd originally thought. Loki seemed too shocked to focus on his spell weaving, and Thor was left free of any frostbite, his tan fingers gliding up trembling skin to stroke under his jaw, tilt his face up to the light. "Loki. Please. You must know I could never harm you. Will you not have faith in me, as I do you?" He stroked the natural arch of that elegant jaw line, oil smearing, leaving what he prayed was a wet and lulling trail. If he could only prove to him that he was trying to help….
"Spare me your sentimentality. You only offer this kindness for the sake of your future spawn!" Loki hissed, bucking his head away from the touch. Far too late, as it were. The oil was there, glistening against his skin, and Thor could see the effects already taking hold; it was only a small shudder, the flutter of black as sin lashes, but that was enough for the thunderer. So the healers had been right after all. The balm would help, were Loki to use it copiously.
"Soothing your pain matters more to me now than any future possibilities. You have expressed your disinterest in children at this time, and I respect your choice." Thor no more wanted their lives interrupted by a needful child any more than Loki did. Not at this time. They had decades, perhaps even a century before such things needed to be considered, and until then his only thoughts were of ensuring his consort's health and safety as he suffered through this difficult time.
"Loki, you can feel for yourself that my claims are true. This can be a balm, if you allow it," he held up the small pot, and was pleased to see how those scarlet eyes followed it with a raw sort of desperation. It nearly eradicated their agonized glaze. "Will you have me beg? If I must, I'll drop to bended knee this very moment and plead for your welfare, but do not shun me out of spite! At the very least, take my offering for yourself." Thor pushed the oil into Loki's hand, clasping those quivering fingers around it. "I only want what's best for you. Take it, Loki. Use it. Please."
One horrifying moment of silence had him fearing the worst; Loki could shun his gift, throw it aside. Were he to do so, the god wasn't certain what he'd do. For no longer could he stand back and watch this happen. Nature or not, this was undeserved. Thor grimaced, nervously waiting for Loki's silvered tongue to start wagging and banish him from the room, strike him down for being a fool.
It never happened. "Thor…" with a tentativeness that was unlike him, Loki sniffed the opaque substance and frowned, dabbing at his cheekbone. The golden residue that came off on his fingertips was eyed suspiciously. "I-I've no reason to trust this! Your healers understand little about Jotun physiology. This substance could harm me-"
"They tested it, multiple times. It won't do you any damage." Loki couldn't deny what it was doing for him, even on a part of his body from which the pain didn't spawn. There was hope, and Thor latched onto it, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the Jotun's cool knuckles and leaning in close. With hardly a gap between them, he could all but taste Loki's fear, his nervousness. It was bitter and cold, like soot tainted ice. "Loki. Beloved. Never would I subject you to harm, nor anything that might cause you grief. If I had even the smallest suspicion that this would hurt you, do you believe I'd press the issue so?" Thor kissed his brow, the pale blue lines arching into his hairline. Never had he been pleased to hear Loki's whimpers until this day. "Have my oath, if you will trust in nothing else. No harm will come to you at my hands. If I lie, then let my body be thrown to Midgard's deep seas, and halved in two by Jörmungandr's mighty jaws."
His declaration was truth. Thor preferred death over a world where he'd made his consort suffer. What he thought didn't matter though. It was his oath that finally coaxed Loki's belief, muting the suspicion within his garnet eyes to a tolerable level. "Bold words. You may yet regret them." One nervous look was directed at the little pot he held before it was being pushed back into Thor's hand, and Loki relaxed his limbs from their hunched positions against the headboard, allowing his lithe legs to sprawl out, knees ever so slightly parting. "One wrong move, Thor. If you dare touch me in a manner that's unwarranted…"
"Never, Loki. I would never." Looking at his thighs, the green silk wound between them damp and clinging to his sore flesh, Thor felt his first twinges of anxiety. He wasn't a gentle creature by nature. He was rough, coarse, a warrior through and through. As was expected of an Aesir prince. But no matter how much self control he was forced to muster, he was going to do this right. Loki wouldn't suffer at his hands.
"Perhaps you should lie back," he murmured, carefully laying a hand on one of the Jotun's trembling legs, the other gathering oil into his palm. It was warm, and smeared easily across his fingers. Hopefully Loki would appreciate it. As of yet, he hadn't made any sign of moving, much less relaxing. "Loki. It will be easier for us both if you give me more room with which to work. There is little I can do for you at this angle, and I want to be sure that the oil is correctly applied."
There was suspicion written all over those angular features, the stretch of his spine rod straight and unflinching like Uru metal. Thor feared that nothing could get Loki to relax. He didn't blame him. This was uncomfortable for them both, and Loki had to suffer not only his embarrassment, but the pain thriving still within his chilled form. For a prince, foundling or not, this had to be mortifying.
"...I'll not spread my legs for you like a common trollop. You can apply the oil without having to stare my misery in its face, Thor. Let me lean against you. It will be more comfortable to me." He honed in on the thunderer's uncertainty like a hungry beast sniffing out its prey, lashes shrouding his gaze until it was little more than a thin line of bloody red. "Unless you didn't mean what you said. Was that your plan all along? Butter me up with your flimsy promises, when they were only meant to be forgotten the moment you had your way?"
"Nay! Loki, I'd never-" Thor sighed, scrubbing his face. "I meant every word. If you'd be more comfortable that way, then that's how we'll do this. It may be a little more difficult though.."
"I'm sure you'll make do."
There wasn't going to be any more debate. What Loki wanted, Loki would get. Thor didn't have the willpower to deny him, when it was such a simple thing he was asking for. Sighing, he made quick work of anything that would cause the trickster discomfort; his armor, gauntlets, the heavy cape still lying in wefts down his back. When he was left with soft leather trousers and a tunic of royal crimson and fur, Thor crawled past Loki and settled himself against the headboard, padding his thighs and hips with a silken sheet, lest the oil drip. "Come here and settle yourself, Loki. I want to be certain of your comfort before we...begin."
To his credit, Loki only took but a few moments to do as asked. He shifted his body so that it fell between the gap of Thor's thighs and reclined against his chest, rustling about to accommodate himself. The god waited, patient, and only after it seemed that the man was truly ready did he pull Loki a little closer and spread his legs open again. "I cannot promise that this won't feel unsettling at first," Thor kissed beneath Loki's ear and placed the pot of oil within sight, so as to not frighten him. Better its presence be known. "But once you grow accustomed to it, everything will be fine." Fingers prepped, slippery with the golden substance, he lowered them to the Jotun's flesh and then waited, drawing in a bated breath. "Do you trust me, Loki?"
"In this, I have little choice. Yours are the only hands I'd allow near me, save my own." That wasn't the answer he wanted, and they both knew it. Loki knew it. Sharing Thor's sigh, he turned his head away and rested his cheek against a muscled pectoral, the beat of thunder in Thor's heart. "Yes, you fool. Did I not, would I be here?"
"You might, if only to torture me later." Thor took his laughter as a somewhat positive sign, and he reached between Loki's splayed legs.
The first touch hurt. The sudden tension in Loki's face and hands gave it away, though not a sound came from his cobalt lips. Despite it all, Thor tilted them up to his own and kissed away any noises that might otherwise make themselves known, their presence already aware within Loki's chest and straining for freedom. He bit down on them, accidentally, or maybe even on purpose, nicking Thor's lower lip in the process. He barely felt it. "Pay it no attention. Focus only on me." Thor's digits continued rubbing the oil into Loki's skin, the sensitive underside of his cock that hid his cunt from sight. Loki flinched, hissing a curse. "Loki...don't fixate on it. Soon the oil will take away the pain."
"Not soon enough!" Though muffled by their kiss, he perfectly heard his pained whimper. The sound of it nearly broke Thor's heart. "Thor, remove your fingers! This isn't working. The pain-it," Loki flushed his cheek entirely flat against crimson fabric and shuddered violently. "It isn't getting better. It hurts, so much.."
"I know." What more could Thor say? He wouldn't stop. The oil needed time for its effects to take place. Only a minute more, and Loki would be feeling that much better. Were he not in such agony, he'd realize this. But Thor wasn't heartless. Holding his Jotun bride in his arms as he anguished away was fodder for his nightmares, which would haunt him for days, nay, weeks to come. He's suffer them in silence, as recompense for his slights.
Slowly, by which he meant at a pathetic snail's pace, he retracted his fingers and dipped them into the pot anew. More oil, for what he was about to do. It was in preparation. "Loki," Thor kissed his consort's neck, for his face was hidden from sight. "I have to spread the oil to your innermost flesh. Otherwise, the pain will only return, and this time stronger than ever. Do you understand?"
Loki's whine made it clear that he did, nearly swaying Thor's intentions away from the task. He couldn't though. "Slap at me. Hit me, if it will assuage you. I don't want to do this to you, Loki." His fingers slipped easily enough into the tight sheath of Loki's quim, earning a shout and-Odin's beard, tears. Thor wanted to work quickly, see this done, but he spread the oil with gentle, paced strokes across the clenching walls, taking his time despite it all. "Go ahead," he soothed. "Cry, if you must. I'll not see you as weaker for it. But the pain will fade, Loki, you know it will. It only takes"
"Time," Loki moaned, tears flowing freely down his whorled cheeks. Thor almost mistook it for another miserable noise. It really was a blessing in disguise. He had only to wait another second or so before the taut line of Loki's spine cracked, melding seamlessly against his chest as he moaned again. And this time, the prince understood exactly what it was.
"Finally."
No more whimpers. No more aches and inner burns that couldn't be helped. Thor breathed out and clutched the Jotun tightly against him, listening to his relieved mewls. These were the sounds he'd craved to hear. This is what he wanted. Norns be praised, he was going to deliver a casket of gold to each of the healers, after he had their promise that more of this oil would be concocted. He wanted it on hand, in case another situation arose akin to this one, and Loki had need of its usage. For now though, it was enough for Thor to bask in Loki's comfort.
"The oil should be well spread now. I'll apply more, if you need it, but this should be enough."
Loki muttered something at him in a low voice. Whether it was a thank you or not, he accepted it as such, helping the trickster shift around and get better situated, his fingers ever so lightly withdrawing from their warm, wet perch. Loki keened, curling up against him with the sated nature of a kitten. He was truly relaxed. Despite the fact that he was still crying too, they were tears of relief. He wasn't in pain anymore.
That was all Thor wanted. All he'd needed. Loki had fought him tooth and nail, rebelled against his helpful advances, but that didn't matter. Thor was just relieved that he'd been given a chance, when Loki could have thrown it back in his face.
"Thank you for allowing me to give you this, Loki. It's all I wanted." His lips found Loki's jaw and laved it entirely with hot kisses, encouraging Loki to respond, tilt his head back and give himself over fully to his strength, his hold. Which he did with a tired sigh, crimson swallowed up by the heavy dusk of his lashes.
"Don't thank me yet. If the oil has unforeseen consequences, yours shall be the first neck on the line."
"Which I'll accept without complaint." Wandering away from the cool skin, he simply deemed to hold Loki to him and swathe him in silk, tucking the fabric around his shoulders, covering every inch of that lush body with gauzy scarlet. "Rest now. It will help."
Amazingly, Loki nodded, pressing himself better into the cradle of Thor's arms. He must have been exhausted. Never had Thor seen this much compliance from his normally stubborn consort. He rather thought it cute, until blue fingers wrapped around his wrist and clamped down, nervousness making them shiver. "You'll stay?" Loki corrected himself, offering a fleeting glance upward. "Stay, Thor. ...Please."
"Oh Loki." He brought them to his lips for a kiss, warmth spreading through his heart like the petals of a flower, finally unfurled to show its true beauty. Through it all, Thor looked into those brilliant, sleepy eyes and felt himself smile. "You needn't worry. I've no intentions of going anywhere."