A/N: Well I'm back at it, after writing Dirty Little Secret I felt the need to write something from Loki's view point and thus this fic was spawned. This is pure smut, not gonna lie one bit about it, and while it is in fact a campanion fic for DLS, it is not a sequel, more a prequel. It details just how they started this little game of theirs, I haven't decided yet but I might write more to this 'verse.

hope you enjoy this fic as much as DLS, and as always...

Reviews=LOVE

I'll Keep Your Secret

Do you remember when we started this little game of ours? I bet you do; I'm certain even.

You probably have the moment memorized, down to the very minute, that our bantering gave way to something more.

I know I do; the very second even. And why not, it's not every day I find myself thrown for a loop.

You have that kind of effect on me, but don't let it go to your head; you're narcissistic enough as it is.

I had a plan you know, simple and cut dry. It would be easy to put it in action; your reputation would ensure everything worked out.

It was too easy really to get your attention, to catch you off guard and muddle your thinking.

But then you turned the tables on me.

Lust I could deal with, revel in it actually. This however, this was different, new, and all too strange.

Calloused fingertips trace lightly along my brow as another hand moves to my waist pulling me closer.

It's all too soft and careful; not at all what I'd been expecting.

And before I can comment some snide remark, chapped lips are pressed against mine and I can feel the scruff of your goatee rubbing against my chin.

There are no teeth involved, just the feel of a warm mouth moving tenderly against my own.

A hand winds itself through my hair, fingers gripping tightly, and I can't help the gasp that falls from my lips.

Your tongue moves in, exploratory in action, tracing the confines of my mouth.

This is wrong, not at all how this was supposed to play out, and yet, as your tongue swirls against mine while you rub soothing circles along the back of my neck, I can't bring myself to care.

It feels good to lose myself, to relinquish the need to control everything and just be taken care of.

Your left hand moves from my hip to begin working on the clasps of my jacket and the prospect of more skin on skin contact seems like a great idea.

I need this; now.

A snap of my fingers and we're both void of these troublesome garments.

You quirk an eyebrow at the break in my calm facade and I remember why I'm here.

But then your mouth latches on my neck as your fingers run across my nipples teasingly and my mind draws a blank again.

I'm vaguely aware of being hoisted up to sit atop your workbench, but the way your tongue flicks across my earlobe is making everything hazy.

You part my legs moving to stand in the space provided, hands moving up along my thighs rubbing lightly at the skin below.

Your mouth is back on mine and its distraction enough for what happens next.

I inhale sharply, my hips bucking upward when you drive two fingers up to the second knuckle in my entrance.

You grin then, at how my eyelashes flutter on their own accord, my breath hitching when you begin to scissor your digits.

You add a third finger and my head drops back revealing my neck which you eagerly attack, nipping at my skin before kissing the irritated flesh.

I'm rocking back on your fingers needing more, no longer caring how my hair falls haphazardly in my eyes or how I've been reduced to half coherent mumbling amidst wanton moans.

You pull out and I whimper slightly before gasping in delight when you ram in to me in one fluid motion. The sensation is all too much and I need a moment to adjust to the new feeling of being filled.

After a shaky breath I experimentally wriggle my hips, grinning broadly at the sound that falls past your lips.

Your hands tighten at my hips and you pull out only to slam back in with vigor.

My legs wrap around your waist pulling you closer as my arms move to loop behind your neck.

Your rhythm is brutal, but I can deal with that, it suits me even. My fingers claw at your back needing more, and you seem more than happy to indulge my needs.

I drop a hand to grip myself, stroking in time with your thrusts. But you surprise me when your fingers wrap around mine as you move to take control of my strokes.

My hips buck upwards into your hand with reckless abandon as you speed up the strokes to match each thrust.

I come first with a choked off gasp of your name falling past my lips.

You follow suit dropping your head to rest on my shoulder as you slump forward breathing heavily.

Were both content to stay in that position, as our breathing returns to normal. Absently you place kisses to my fevered skin mumbling softly.

'Shit,' you whisper when the reality of your actions finally catch up with you.

You look up at me, dark eyes wide with worry. I imagine this is the part where you begin to babble about super villains and mistakes, but those excuses never come. Instead what falls past your lips almost makes me laugh.

'Thor's gonna kill me.'

Messing with my oaf of a brother has always been a source of entertainment for me. Yes, this I can work with. This trumps my original plan, because in all honesty the thought of getting under Thor's skin is far more amusing to me.

So I lean forward kissing you soundly, then lips still against yours I whisper:

'can you keep a secret?'